“Love Eternal” carries on from where the last record left off, but at the same time, progressing and adding new elements to make for a compelling listen. On this release, Aelter have expanded their sonic palette further; instead of atmospheric choral vocals that coloured the previous releases, Blake channels the baritone of Michael Gira of Swans fame pretty impressively here. The songs are less linear and more straightforward than before, even borderline catchy. The chord structures and brooding, delicate and meandering guitars remind me of 90’s slowcore legends Red House Painters. The title track of this record is the most impressive, but to be honest the best way to experience these five tracks is to listen to them back-to-back and let them wash over you.

Aelter may be indulging in a little less envelope-pushing Wolvserpent, but they are nonetheless well worth a listen. Even though I prefer the earlier works by the group, fans of the aforementioned bands as well as Nick Cave will be interested in checking out this release.

From the resigned, tragic nature of the opening introduction track, to the apocalyptic yet also uplifting closer, “Orphan”, the album tells a story of the last family on earth and their attempts to leave, covering a gamut of emotions along the way. The stuff in between this short record isn’t half bad either; “I am the Flail of the Lord” covers a huge amount of ground in little more than four minutes, from the latter day Altar of Plagues to more traditional but none the less enthralling and pummelling riffage. Throbbing, foreboding keyboards underpin these six tracks; the cosmic swirling behind the closing riffs of “Vowbound” is particularly inventive and inspiring; perhaps Curtis-Brignell has been influenced by Chicago titans of mindbending music Locrian.

Yet the best is left until last; the aforementioned “Orphan”. At first, the music is a huge departure from the avant-blackened rage of the first side; graceful yet cavernous melodies courtesy of a guest singer that weirdly have me thinking of Ozzy Osbourne.  Yet in the course of the song all the good ingredients of traditional black metal are thrown in, and it’s a thrilling yet morose plus-fifteen minute ride. The lyrical content is even more poignant when Curtis-Brignell’s battle for depression is taken into consideration.

The real tragedy here is that this could well be Caïna’s final album; with mainman Curtis-Brignell alluding in interviews that perhaps he wants a change of direction in his life. If it turns out to be so, then what a way to bow out; I’m sure that come the end of 2015 I’ll be looking back at this album as one of the best black metal releases of this year.

I guess one criticism that could be levelled at Goatwhore is the same of Slayer or AC/DC – they have an instantly recognizable sound, that to casual listeners might sound like it rarely deviates from the same path from the one the forged fourteen years ago. Yet they have evolved considerably – they tightened and polished themselves up for 2006’s A Haunting Curse with some sprinkings of (shock) progressive influences and 2009’s Carving out the Eyes of God showcased some of Sammy Duet’s most dexterous guitar playing of his life.

However, while I’d argue that like 2012’s Blood for the Master, Constricting Rage of the Merciless isn’t as great a jump as the two previously mentioned, it still has some interesting new ideas, as well as more of the signature blackened/death metal we know and love.

The punky, old-school feel of “Baring Teeth for Revolt” shows the bands more catchy side, with fist-pumping lyrical refrains and a great chorus, with the kind of pedal point riff that wouldn’t be out of place on a Judas Priest record. “Cold Earth Consumed in Dying Flesh” is a great slab of doom that is a decent tempo changer, and has a neat little acoustic intro, again something Goatwhore had yet to utilize extensively on previous records. However, my highlight would be “Unravelling Paradise”, which is the reason I fell for this band – relentlessly angry, intense as hell, and cleverly written music. If those three things appeal to you, then I suggest you check this out.

Although there had been a gradual shift in the sound of Wolves in the Throne Room from more to-the-point black metal to increasingly ambient and textured tones, this stylistic change in Celestite is their most radical step yet. This is maybe as close to an unplugged album as they’ll come – by stripping back the ghastly, monolithic walls of guitars and furious blastbeats, they have thrown themselves out of their comfort zone and into a synth-drenched abyss.

The result is as impeccable as you’d expect from the two geniuses behind the band – brothers Aaron and Nathan Weaver. Unlike what Neurosis did with Times of Grace and Grace back in the 90’s, the album isn’t meant as a complimentary, play alongside piece, but as a standalone album in it’s own right. The other difference is that the musical foundations of Celestite are much the same as Celestial Lineage. This means that it’s already on to a winner – songs such as “Thuja Magus Imperium” from the latter has some incredible melodies, which “Turning Ever Towards the Sun” from the former uses.

In addition to the synths and guitars played by the Weaver brothers, there is some gorgeous French horn, trombone and flute playing on this album courtesy of guest musicians, which adds further layers to the ethereal soundscapes. The centerpiece to the album, “Celestite Mirror”, is one of the most ambitious songs the band has attempted, as it manages to sustain an incredible, dreamy, trippy, at times sinister atmosphere – a whole gamut of emotions for nearly fifteen minutes without dropping in quality once.

This record will of course appeal to all fans of WITTR, but it unintentionally has created a possible gateway to black metal for fans of dark ambient bands such as Amber Asylum. Listeners of dark ambient who may have been put off by the caustic nature of WITTR/black metal in the past may well be sucked in by this record and may well want to peruse through this bands back catalogue as a result.

The album starts with a hateful, straightforward sludge riff – clearly these guys are massive fans of the great music that came out of Louisiana in the 1990’s – Eyehategod, Acid Bath and Crowbar can be heard here, yet the band showcase more progressive influences as well. The twin guitar harmonies reminded me of Arkansas’s Rwake, and indeed the whole album shares a similar vibe to their phenomenal 2011 album, Rest. We have a fine example of this towards the end of “Caged Bird”, with some sinister tritone work at play. Punishing vocal tradeoffs are the order of the day, and jackhammer stop-start riffs pummel you but also contain a certain level of finesse.

My personal highlight of the album would be the exquisite clean guitar work in Pale New Eyes, and the utterly psychedelic buildup of the first half of the song.

The track “You Are The Worst” is one of the more unrefined and unspectacular moments of the album, but the seventeen-minute closer just about lays waste to everything before, during and after it. An excellent progressive-sludge release – it’s not easy listening, but great music frequently isn’t.

Much has happened since the release of Confederacy of Ruined Lives, their last studio album was released in 2000. Singer Mike Williams suffered legal and drug problems, the devastating storm of Katrina disrupted and displaced band members, guitarists Jimmy Bower and Brian Patton involved themselves with their other bands (namely Down and Soilent Green respectively), and most recently and tragically founding member and drummer Joey LaCaze passed away.

They’ve had several years on the road to hone these new songs – I saw them in Leeds, England in 2010 and it was about as erratic and authentic as this kind of music gets – Mike Williams handed me the microphone for the chorus of “Sisterfucker” and a few minutes later a shard of glass from a bottle he smashed nearly took my eye out.

On to the new album – so, sonically it’s pretty similar to the ones which made the band one of the most influential in the NOLA sludge scene in the early 90’s – however in no way does it sound forced or dated. Williams has appeared to make a conscious effort to make his lyrics more intelligible – trying to decipher words from albums such as Dopesick was a challenge to say the least. This change is welcome in my eyes, as the man’s neo-Bukowski/Burrows rants are something to be savoured. Songs like “Trying to Crack the Hard Dollar” are bona fide classics that are sure to remain on the setlist for years, and “Parish Motel Sickness” has one of the best choruses the band has written.

The release of Eyehategod is sure to open up the band to a whole new audience, and as well as being a fantastic album in its own right it will serve as a gateway for not only the band’s formidable back catalogue, but may turn people onto other excellent Louisiana bands such as Acid Bath and Crowbar.

Opener “Aarnivalkea” puts all of Kuolemanlaakso’s proverbial cards on the table – what is featured in this song is a fair summary of the following seven tracks. This Finnish troupe ooze plenty of contemporary metal influences, but the most obvious point of comparison would be with Irish doom metal legends Mourning Beloveth with their sorrowful twin guitar melodies and the combination of clean and harsh vocals. The sinewey, saturated doom tones are fantastic, although it has to be said the connection between the guitars and the drums sometimes leaves something to be desired. There’s always a fine line between production styles, and it appears at times that Kuolemanlaakso tread on the wrong side of polished.

“Verihaaksi” is a strong track, with a hell of a lot of Cathedral and Candlemass tribute going on. Featuring a sinister clean guitar and crushing Sabbath-esque riffs, this track is compelling, but the following “Me vaellamme yössä” is arguably the highlight of the album, with the most impressive guitar playing and song structure. Again, it’s nothing we haven’t heard before but the Celtic/folk lead melodies are succulent and catchy as hell.

The folky, incongruous “Glastonburyn Lehto” a welcome break from the relentless subterranean chugging (in a good way) –  but is nothing that will have you on the edge of your seat. We have some decent female vocals towards the end of the album, which soar above the doom with epic repose, and there is enough quality riffage to keep your interest ’till the end.

It’s clear that  Kuolemanlaakso are not breaking any new ground here on the well trodden path of melodic doom/death metal, but it’s still a good listen regardless.

If it’s variety you’re looking for you may want to search elsewhere, but chances are that if you’ve clicked on this review based on prior knowledge to the band or the name itself, you will be expecting some kind of antediluvian assault to the senses. You won’t be disappointed – for me, the exact appeal of Conan is their style of proto-music, songs that seem to reject conventional devices of music, and that seem that they could have been written by the humans that first walked this planet.

Conan make music that’s often so rudimentary that it is paradoxically ambitious. They take simplicity to extreme levels – listen to the savage beating of the guitar strings and drum skins at the end of “Crown of Talons”, hammering away on one note like it’s the last note they’ll play. The vocals are something else too – closer to the wails of Jus Oborn from Electric Wizard than to the traditional throaty doom roar, they frequently crack which adds to the music in a magnificently chaotic, arcane manner. Like the seminal NYC doom metal band Winter, the drums are often the lead instrument that give the colour to the music – check out the first two minutes of “Total Conquest” for an awesome example of this. It’s not all funeral dirge paced though – “Gravity Chasm” bounces along like classic Cathedral.

It is clear that these guys have spent long hours twiddling the settings on their amps and guitars to get one of the most primitive, subterranean tones imaginable. When listening to the riffs seeping out of your speakers, it seems that they are played with a stone club rather than a guitar pick. As a trio they create a thicker sound than bands with twice the number of members.

I didn’t expect to enjoy Blood Eagle as much as I do, but its primal infectiousness means that I’ll be spinning this record for the rest of the year and beyond. Highly recommended.

Unlike fellow countrymen Negura Bunget, who create music that isn’t just unique but that also pays tribute to their Eastern European origins, it is sad to see Kultika producing a body of work that is far too Isis-worshipping for its own good. The first opener, “Rising from the Sea”, is undoubtedly enjoyable and well written, but there is no envelope-pushing whatsoever. The atmospheric passages are sweeping and luscious, the riffage is both technical and savage, but nothing that Mouth of the Architect, Cult of Luna or any band since Neurosis and Isis changed the face of the metal forever in the late 1990’s haven’t already done.

Like the at times excellent blackened thrashers Woe, Kultika shoot themselves in the foot with some of their clean vocals. These first rear their ugly head just short of the halfway point in the aforementioned song. Coupled with the guitar playing at this moment, it is a painful reminder of the worst things about metal ten years ago. We see the other side of the coin soon after, a beautiful, trippy post metal passage, this time with softly delivered vocals, which work a great deal better. At times the longer songs drag without really achieving anything – “Cries of Eiram” is a case in point, feeling laboured under its own underwhelming weight. It’s not bad, but you never really feel that this is a song that you’ll be listening to beyond this month.

You can’t deny that these Romanians know how to write a fairly good song, it’s just it is sorely lacking an edge-of-the-seat factor, something that separates them from the rest of the pack. Reinventing Oceanic half a decade ago might have been more interesting than it is now; it’s time to move on.

Those who may have bothered to visit Google Translate may be jumping to conclusions already regarding the name of the band and the album – which translate as “Whispers” and “Dreamers” respectively. Although this might have readers thinking Fluisteraars would be more of the Agalloch or Alcest ilk than the brutal Scandanavian Black Metal of the early 90’s, this is by no means an indication of what is to follow. The result is a more than decent mix of the two. The other piece of information I was able to garner from a quick search is that the band share their name with a book by British Historian Orlando Figes about the grimness of life in Russia under Stalin, but I doubt there is a real connection there.

Much in the same tradition as 21^st century luminaries such as Wolves in the Throne Room and Altar of Plagues, Dromers has only a few songs but each one is of considerable length. Fluisteraars provide a barrage of riffs yet still employ dynamic sensibilities. Opener “De Doornen” jumps out of the speakers confidently, a storming mid-tempo riff, before breaking down into gorgeous sweeping passages of melodic leads and eldritch acoustic guitars, echoing the finer moments of Opeth and Primordial. Particularly impressive is the interplay between the bass and the twin guitar harmonies – for example, the riff halfway through “Kuddedier” features the bass leading the exquisite melody beneath the two guitars. The closer is a solid collage of windswept riffs and savage blastbeats that ties of the album nicely, if unspectacularly.

Dromers will undoubtedly be the first of a myriad of Post Black-Metal releases this year, given the en vogue nature of the genre at present. I’ll certainly be giving this a spin for months to come, as it is compelling enough to warrant repeated listens which in turn reveal more facets of the sound of Fluisteraars.

Upon examining the CD sleeve of Last City Zero these words stood out for me – “lyrical themes taken from and inspired by “Cancer as a Social Activity” by Mike Williams”. This collection of bizarre, caustic and bitter Bukowski/Burrows inspired ramblings was released in 2005 and is now out of print, fetching prices of over $100 a copy. I bought this book at the time of release and marvelled at its words, and the prospect of seeing them come to life in musical form excited me greatly. Indeed, the E.P. Hoax the System had already shown the great promise of the band. The auspicious combination of Williams’s prophet of doom sermons, Kelly’s trademark scything guitar work, and the unpredictable inventiveness of fellow audio abusers Parker and Lamont meant that the anticipation was at fever pitch when I pressed play for the first time.

The band set their stall out with the opener ‘Serve or Survive’, beginning with a typically simple but effective Scott Kelly riff and a softly sung passage. This explodes into a flurry of electronics courtesy of Parker and a vocal tradeoff between Lamont and Williams, the whole band in full flow. The riffage on the record isn’t exactly something you’ve heard before (and in the case of the title track, directly taken from ‘Figures’ on his 2008 solo album, The Wake), but still does a stellar job at piecing the music together. A great start to the record – and a fair indicator of what follows.

When Corrections House hit the spot, they really, really hit it. ‘Dirt Poor and Mentally Ill’ is a pulvarising, to-the-throat post-industrial attack, with Williams most iconic of rants, and the album closer, ‘Drapes Hung by Jesus’ is about as apocalyptic and terrifying as metal gets. Beginning with a funeral sludge-trude lasting for a good few minutes which matches Godflesh for mechanical grimness, the song climaxes amazingly. We get to hear the first and only of Scott Kelly’s atavistic roars, backed by terrifying, transcendental sax and synth, and then Williams comes in and finishes the job off.

The weak point of the album is what could probably pass for a ballad, ‘Run Through the Night’. The vocals and guitar work fail to inspire, and it is telling of how great Williams’s contribution is that the one track where he doesn’t feature is also the most anonymous. Indeed, the Eyehategod frontman is probably the star of the show here. Alternating between spoken word and a cut-throat howl (actually intelligible, unlike his vocals with his main band), his words evoke ambiguous images of destruction and deprivation, being an ideal spearhead for the attack of the rest of the band.

Bruce Lamont is the least known of all musicians here, his band Yakuza being confined to lesser heights that his fellow musicians projects. His saxophone work in ‘Hallows of the Stream’ and ‘Drapes Hung by Jesus’ is excellent – subtle, atmospheric and devastatingly effective, moving beyond simple drone work at times, it really brings out another flavour to and is just another small  piece to the jigsaw that is the sound of Corrections House.

Surprisingly for me, given Sanford Parker’s amazing track record of producing and mixing albums (the best example surely being Run Thick in the Night by U.S. Christmas), Last City Zero sometimes sounds on the wrong side of claustrophobic. The programmed drums are mostly excellent, but at times, such as ‘Bullets and Graves’, the sound is underwhelming and disappointing.

The obvious question with so-called supergroups is whether the members can step out of the shadows of their main band and create their own collective identity. Despite the few ordinary moments that are on the album, there is no doubt that Corrections House manage to achieve this. Last City Zero is one of the most compelling releases of 2013, worth a listen for all fans of ambitious, aggressive and heavy music.

We begin with an intro track, ‘Divination’, a morose, foreboding start to the album, before leading seamlessly into the savage ‘Matriarch’, a wonderful slab of technical, intricate yet catchy metal. Think early Disincarnate, Death and Immolation. Marcelo provides both the soaring, clean vocals and the guttural growls, sometimes layered with each other. The song achieves a lot within six minutes, and indeed feels longer than just that.

‘Auto-da-fé’ would make the Hoffman brothers proud with its Deicide-esque low-end riffage, yet evolves into something more melodic. The short spoken word section towards the end may put those off who turned their nose up at Morbid Angel’s David Vincent when he used a similar delivery on Domination, but it’s an excellent track undoubtedly. ‘Purified by Fire’ is one of the more straightforward tracks on the album; razor-sharp rhythm guitars that don’t mess around, and blistering fretboard pyrotechnics towards the end.

The title track, which is the centrepiece of the album, channels the sinister, funeral-pyre energy of early Celtic Frost. Again, the guitar playing is highly intricate and ambitious, but without bewildering the listener – Despot do not forget when and where a straightforward thrash riff is necessary.

‘Le Roi Nu’ abandons the more traditional death/black riffage of the earlier songs and comes across as almost neo-classical – a beautifully melodic piece, but also doomy in nature, like Ireland’s Mourning Beloveth at times. Equally impressive is the following track, ‘Egregious’, with a classic thrash riff, and solos which Chuck Schuldiner would be proud of.

Satan in the Death Row is an album which keeps the listener interested throughout; particularly with the double edged salvo of ‘Le Roi Nu’ and ‘Egregious’ towards the end, arguably the best two songs on the album. Despot’s take on black and death metal with a cinematic, symphonic edge is well worth a listen for fans of all previously mentioned bands, and anyone looking for extreme metal with an edge.

One of the more extreme bands that Anselmo has been involved in was Superjoint Ritual, and during one’s first listen to Walk Through Exits Only it is an easy, inevitable parallel to draw between the two groups. Although that said band released their second and final record pretty much ten years ago, Anselmo appears to have lost none of the vitriolic energy which made listening to Superjoint such a cathartic, fun listen to.

It has to be said, this album is definitely a grower. The opener, ‘Music Media is My Whore’ is one of the less remarkable songs you’ll hear this year, but ‘Batallion of Zero’ hits hard; chainsaw guitars and savage drum beats with Anselmo’s iconic yet aged roar at the forefront of things. What is immediately apparent is that this is some of the most technically demanding music Anselmo has written in years; a simple way of putting it would be the straightforward blackened hardcore thrash of Superjoint Ritual meeting the shreddier aspects of Pantera. Think of the more extreme moments of The Great Southern Trendkill and you’ll get the picture. ‘Betrayed’ has some wonderfully catchy, hectic and demanding riffage, although the arrangements might bewilder some; it has to be said that some of the songs don’t flow as well as as you’d want them to. The same positives and negatives are shared with the song ‘Usurpers Bastard Rant’, the latter having an awesome Slayer-esque solo tradeoff towards the end. The production is in-your-face and suffocating, yet the one criticism that I’d level towards it would be the mixing of the guitars; sometimes the rhythm is buried beneath the crashing snares and cymbals. Anselmo never minces his words, howling anthemic, sing along, at times amusing lyrics , such as “I walk through exits only…because I can!”, “I’ve…been…betrayed…Revolt! Revolt!“ and “Does one and one make three?…that’s the question!”

The centrepiece of the album and the title track is arguably the finest cut here, unbelievably punishing and angry even by Anselmo’s standards. Ebbing and flowing between Napalm Death-esque passages and sludgy riffs reminiscent of Eyehategod, it is a fantastic five and a half minutes of music.

The album closer, ‘Irrelevent Walls and Computer Screens’ is one of the more experimental pieces of music released by Anselmo; after a typically atavistic, brutal five minutes, the song becomes an awesome kalaedescope of droney guitars, jamming away into a fadeout. Certainly, the fourty five year old isn’t resting on his laurels and is trying things here that he hasn’t attempted before.

Judging Walk Through Exits Only against the other various musical guises Phil Anselmo has performed under is a pointless task, although I’m sure the majority of listeners will readily accept that records such as NOLA and Vulgar Display of Power are never going to be matched, and will be able to enjoy this, thoroughly, with an open mind. It is a very solid release; great for having a beer and letting off steam to, and a follow up is eagerly anticipated by myself and many others.

A Plague of Knowing, like many rarities/live compilations, is for people who already know and love Horseback, and serves as a great showcase for the scope of the band’s sound. It features some of the most ambitious songs the band have ever attempted, testing the listeners patience and ears to extreme levels, as well as some of their most straightforward, accessible material

The first disc is the most typically Horseback (if such a thing were possible), with Jenks Miller’s harsh, buried vocals behind the fuzzy, miasmic guitar. The band have an incredible gift at producing beautiful, droney and ambiguous sound collages – ‘Another World’, ‘MILH’, ‘IHVH’ and ‘Oblivion Eaters’ are good examples of this, but the best is the almost classical sounding ‘Broken Orb’. ‘Heathen Earth’ starts with an innocuous, very ordinary bass/drum combination, however additional instruments soon make their presence known, and eventually you are sucked into its insidious power. The first half of ‘Thee Cult of Henry Flynt’ is as straightforward black metal as the band have ever produced, and consequently one of the less interesting moments of the album, but ends with a typical Horseback soundscape. Another curveball is thrown in the shape of ‘TV Eye’, a bluesy tune more typical of 70’s hard rock than anything else.

Disc two is more electronic in nature; featuring weird processed vocals by Jenks and programmed drums, yet avoiding the kind of sound created by co-conspiritors of the underground Locrian. It’s still richly melodic, yet said melodies are more up front and immediate than those on the first disc. Songs like ‘North Star Stuck’ and ‘Murdered Again’ are long winded yet interesting dronescapes. The last song (not including demos/alternate versions) is ‘Recite’, yet another example of the sheer versatility of this band – acoustic guitars, glorious soloing and dreamy vocals.

If you found it hard to stomach the first two discs, the third will challenge you even further. Consisting of two songs stretched over an hour, this is drone at its most intricate and demanding. Approach with an extremely open mind!

The opener, ‘Ondan’, wouldn’t sound out of place on a Deftones record, with its hazy atmosphere, melodies buried within the almighty fuzz. This dies in a swirl of claustrophobic electronics to conclude the track, before savage but rather rudimentary blastbeats fill the air as the following piece, ‘Lost Numbers’, kicks in. Beneath the crude 90’s Black Metal drums lie some soaring melodies that ebb and flow beneath the mire. Indeed, Sujo are one of those bands like Skullflower whose subtle melodies and enjoyability have to be unraveled slowly over a period of time, as there are so many layers to the band’s compositions. We reach the three-minute mark of ‘Lost Numbers’, and some rather ominous reverby keys take the precedent. This continues for a while in a kaleidoscope of ambiguous noise to conclude the track.

Track 3, ‘Repose’, begins with a catchy drumbeat, and conventional, melodic guitar work. This is at odds with anything we’ve heard so far, and reminds me strongly of Devin Townsend’s solo work from the early 2000s. Glorious post-rock melodies pervade the middle of this song, and the intrigue never lets up, before another twisted, synth-driven blur breaks it down into nothingness. This act of building up and destroying appears to be the main theme of Ondan, obviously typical within the realm of post-rock/metal, but Sujo provide enough intrigue to reward repeated plays.

Stormcrow failed to capture my imagination, sadly. At times it is painfully similar to the aforementioned Saint Vitus, and although the obvious lyrical borrowings from “Born Too Late” are meant in good faith (you said that I was dying inside/there is nothing I can do), it just doesn’t work and comes across as tired. The E.P.’s opener, “Death March”, is the best track on here, and admittedly is well written, with sumptuous fuzzy guitar riffage and howling yet melodic vocals. Karl Simon, the band’s lead guitarist shows off his chops with a tidy, well-written solo towards the end.

The second track, “(Devil’s Grip) Driven Insane”, is also full of the same qualities. “Son of Hades” falls a bit short though, it’s rather grating chorus and generic guitar playing lets it down; “Dragon Caravan” fails to ignite any real interest either. The E.P. is rounded off with “Of That Which Can Never Be”, stronger than the previous two tracks, with decent vocal melodies (yet clichéd and dry lyrics) and quality doom riffage. The extended outro is one of the high points of the E.P; and ends the music on a good note.

All in all, this release by The Gates of Slumber will keep obsessives of the band and genre happy, but as for providing something groundbreaking it falls short. Had these very songs been written by Saint Vitus and included on their excellent comeback album, Lille F:65 last year, people would not have batted an eyelid – which says as much for originality of The Gates of Slumber as it does for the quality of their songs.

The album begins with a wall of feedback, before the dirtiest chord imaginable is clubbed out of the guitar, and the drums begin their wrenched tortured crawl, to last for the next eleven minutes. I thought dirge-merchants such as Khanate and Moss were the best at wringing every last drop of agony out of their chords, but Conan prove to be fine contenders. The strings used by guitarist Jon Davis must be as thick as treetrunks to be able to support this kind of ultra-subsonic tones that he beats forth from his instrument; it is a guitar tone which has to be heard to be believed. It’s not until the 4:30 mark that the vocals enter; feral, wounded, echoed cries that swirl around the miasma. It’s at this point when you fully understand why the title of Caveman Metal is so aptly chosen for this band; and I mean that as a sincere compliment. It carries on like this until just before the end of the song, where the BPM increases roughly 100 fold into a stompy outro, and the sepulchral opener “Krull” is over.

The following track “Satsumo” starts off with a mid-paced groove, more stoner rock than doom, with a surprisingly catchy chorus. The album continues in a similar vein, simple entrancing grooves underpinned by thudding drums. Conan utilise two vocalists, that at times provide twisted harmonies which may have some listeners reminiscing over Enemy of the Sun-era Neurosis. If by this stage you aren’t enjoying the music then you might as well give up, as the rest is more of the same, which will of course please long-term fans; album closer “Sea Lord” rounds things off in a suitably bleak manner.

The music isn’t for the faint-hearted; bleak, sparse and primeval, with song lengths that will put off the casual listener. Definitely worth a try if you enjoy acts such as the previously mentioned Moss and Khanate, and serves as a great “best-of” for this promising Doom act.

The album opener ‘Exhale’ could be criticized as being Kylesa-by-numbers, which at the same time is a backhanded compliment to the fact that the band have forged their own unique stylings that set themselves apart from the rest. Phillip Cope’s trademark bark is still there, but welcomingly, his more melodic side comes to the fore in the sublime ‘Low Tide’. Those who, like this writer, thought that ‘Dust’, the album closer off their last effort Spiral Shadow was one of the records high points will enjoy this track immensely.

The other main creative force in Kylesa is Laura Pleasants, who shines equally on this album as all the previous efforts. She is just as at home unleashing throat shredding screams in ‘We’re Taking This’ whilst grinding out a chugging riff on her guitar resembling ’90s-era Neurosis, as she is showing off her more tuneful pipes in ‘Long Gone’ and ‘Unspoken’, and her fretboard dexterity in the aforementioned track.

While Kylesa may lack the wow factor of their Static Tensions days, they still have as much to offer musically. The third track has a wonderful bluesy Clutch-esque riff at the start, whilst the riffage in ‘Steady Breakdown’ and ‘Vulture’s Landing’ is just as impressive as their earlier days. It’s not a faultless record; ‘What Does it Take’ is a bit of a throwaway number, resembling ‘Back and Forth’ from the last album to a detrimental degree, and Cope’s harsh vocals do start to grate, but an impressive record nonetheless, and fans of the bands current trajectory will be sure to lap this up.