So, color me pleasantly surprised. Know How To Carry A Whip is fabulous. This shows correction’s house go from “side project” status to a bona fide band that can stand on it’s own merits. There’s no point in comparing this to Eyehategod, Neurosis, Minsk, or Yakuza, because it sounds unlike any of those bands in any way or form.

Washed away is any remnant residue of the “sludge” genre tag that all of these musicians are generally labeled with, and really was the element that marred the initial Corrections House recordings for me. This isn’t a “doomy, experimental-industrial-ambient with sludgy-stoner-tribal-drone-influences” album. None of the usual buzzwords that these guys get hyped with are applicable here.

Corrections House bypass the methods of execution from their first album nearly entirely. A heavy metal element to the music simply isn’t there. Really, Know How To Carry A Whip is more a kin to 80’s deathrock and industrial. A lot of this stuff could have been off of The Cure‘s Pornography. Or Skinny Puppy’sRemission. Or an album that Ministry put out between Twitch and The Land of Rape and Honey.

Know How To Carry A Whip is just by far a more nuanced album than Last City Zero was. Its’ touch is softer, its’ pallet is more subtle midtones than just all black on red.

The guitar tones are thin and wiry; the drums are distorted and glitchy. The vocals croak and moan, a lot like Christian Death’s Rozz Williams at his vampy best. Very goth/death rock with the song structures. The keyboards just seep through the very fabric of these songs, staining them in purple hues that won’t ever come out.

Elements of dance music are subverted by the heavy elements of Know How To Carry A Whip, or maybe the heavy elements are subverted by the dance music elements. I think it’s probably more of the latter. In fact, I think that is what makes this album so good. I’d even go as far as saying that at it’s very core, Know How To Carry A Whip is a dance album. I think the majority of these songs would have had all the goth bitches shaking their big, black leather mini-skirt and spiderweb-stocking-clad asses out on the dance floor at some industrial club in the early 90s.

I guess the biggest evidence to support my argument is that one of the biggest improvements Corrections House made is the drum programming. Before, they rigidly followed the guitar patterns too closely, and were entirely too mechanical and abrasive. What’s funny is I like rigid, abrasive, and mechanical drum programming; in the right context. But now they glitch, pop, oscillate, and sputter sparks all over the place; creating a core in-the-pocket groove not unlike “trap” drums from a modern hip-hop production.

Know How To Carry A Whip shows pioneers of a genre (that has really become played out to these ears) successfully branching out and doing something truly different from anything they’ve done before. It’s brave in ways I wouldn’t have expected, even for a group of musicians that have already left legacies for being innovators. I cannot recommend this one enough.

First thing, this isn’t purely a grindcore album; unless you are going by the law of mathematics known herein as “The Brutal Truth Maxim“. This rule dictates that “Brutal Truth = Grindcore“, and “Brutal Truth is What Brutal Truth Does“, so any music made by Brutal Truth is grindcore. Even if that is just a recording of Hoak farting on a snare drum; it’s grindcore. Sorry dude. It’s the law.

So, going by that, Blurring’s self-titled is grindcore; but that’s pretty a superficial reading. While the album sounds completely relentlessly chaotic, there is a very structured approach going on underneath the surface. In a lot of ways that were surprising to me, Blurring’s approach to deathgrind is more akin to second wave black metal; the guitarwork is primarily made up of hyperstrummed tremolo melodies overflowing and spilling down illogical pathways; pushed forward with the anti-syncopated drumming so characteristic of Scandinavia’s most infamous cultural export. Add to that some unobtrusive keyboard washes throughout the proceedings, and you can see why I’m going on and on about the black metal elements.

Blurring’s guitarists Matt Colbert and Scott D’Agostino where both involved with Burke in various incarnations of another lethal Rochester killing crew, Kalibas. Those guys had a slew of state-of-the-art deathgrind releases that are definitely worth your time hunting up. For some reason that little burg has always had a disproportionate share of worldclass extreme metal guitarists, and these two guys are in top form. They hardly let up with their relentless salvos of hi-velocity, spinning sharp-things that splinter off into shards of even more smaller spinning sharp-things, which would hurt really bad if they were to hit you.

Blurring’s vocalist Mark Welden is an unknown to me; but he makes an inspired showing on Blurring’s debut. He has this wet, phlemy, authoritative black metal style rasp, reminiscent of Maniac from Mayhem, and Henri Sattler of God Dethroned. It works well with what Blurring is doing.

A Burke/Lilker rhythm section held no surprises for me; expectations were met as usual. On Burke’s side of things; for such a killer guitar player, he’s an extremely skilled drummer. He keeps the timekeeping fluid and in pocket, in service to the songs being his only concern. Lilker is Lilker; as always bringing weight to anything he is involved in with his clattering and muscular bass playing. The dude truly is the Chris Squire of extreme music.

Blurring’s eponymous album is a well-executed distillation of it’s parts; it is a good example as any if you wanted to give a novice a sense of what the regional flavor of Rochester deathgrind is all about.

Meatwound is all about blunt force trauma, pummeling you into submission with their hyper-masculine, pile-driven rhythms. The bass and drums are typically in lockstep, like the hypnotic battery of a industrial hammer press. Relentless machines, stamping out steel plates all day, every day. Other times, the bass and drums play each others foil, going onto these sort of jazzy/funk/punk tangents, in this tight framework of metallic hardcore.

The guitars are textural color a biggest part of the time that slither and weave around the drums and bass, utilizing a lot of fucked up arpeggios and droney, discordant Devil’s chords. Where the drums and bass are metal pressing against metal, the guitars are skin scraping off onto concrete, bringing forth an organic, “living” element to Addio; even if that element is all infected and scabbed over. At times, there is a dash of black metal tremolo-picked blurr, which is a pretty nifty contrast to the bass-heavy punishment which is Meatwound’s default mode.

One of the coolest things they do on this record, is on “Hand of God”. This song has this huge, completely blown out riff, which is just 3 notes – distorted and sustained for a full bar of 4/4.  They basically appropriated a Hellhammer riff; which if you’re gonna steal, steal from the best, right? Then it goes into this part reminiscent of Napalm Death’s catchy-as-fuck verse riff off “Greed Killing”.

The vocals are really good; comparable to the burly hardcore bellow of someone like Neurosis’s Scott Kelly, or that dude from Coalesce. The provide a lot of forward momentum to a band that is obsessed with forward momentum.

Compared to a lot of stuff I’ve reviewed here lately, Addio is satisfyingly immediate and visceral. What you hear on the first note, is what you hear on the last note. Every element of this band is all hammers, all the time. From the opening riff cycle of album opener “In Toilet”, you can tell you’re in for a beating.

Expect to be hit hard, and hit often, for the next 30 minutes or so.

Behold! the Monolith was a band on their way to doing great things; so when Kevin died, a lot of us sadly shook our heads and said “Well, that’s that. These guys are done”. I mean, how could they recover from the loss of someone who was such a commanding and integral presence in their band?

Yes they can. And pretty well, actually.

Instead of trying to find one guy to fill Kevin’s roll as vocalist and bass player, Behold! the Monolith found two guys to handle those duties solely. This has added a whole new level of versatility to Behold! the Monolith’s sound. Basically, it’s like replacing a frontman like Lemmy, who does his thing well, but has to compensate for some musical diversity with a lot of charisma. Change out a guy like that with a couple of extremely competent musicians that cover their respective roles well. It adds a whole new dimension to Behold! the Monolith that wasn’t there before.

It’s an understatement to say that the new Behold! the Monolith album is really fucking good. On several fronts, Architects of the Void pulls ahead of their prior albums with some needed improvements. The production is better. The songwriting is more cohesive. The new vocalist is more dynamic and versatile. A lot of stars aligned here, that hadn’t on past releases.

There are some stylistic changes in songwriting that have to be pointed out here, which has to be due to the addition of fresh blood. The core nature of the rhythmic drive and interplay between the drums and bass is the most jarringly apparent. The difference is that they have shed a big portion of the “highonfire by-way-of Motorhead” rhythmically ramshackle clatter, for a (slightly) more refined, classic metal galloping drive. It’s not necessarily better; I enjoy both. But it is noticeably different.

On albums past, the more doom driven elements of this band always were the weakest part of what Behold! the Monolith does, in my opinion. That may be that they didn’t write stuff I found compelling as much as when they were sloppily thrashing the fuck out; or it could be I suffer from ear fatigue from the ubiquitous stranglehold doom/sludge/stoner metal has had on the underground metal scene for over a decade.

On the first two albums, these guys frustrated me by unnecessarily downshifting from galloping hard on the plains, into these go-nowhere chug…..chug…..chug…. riffs that had Behold! the Monolith tripping over their shoestrings and losing momentum before moving onto something good again. It was something that bugged me in the past enough to downgrade Behold! the Monolith from a “Great Band”, to a band that was merely good.

So, it comes as a bit of a surprise to me that the doom elements on Architects of the Void are what rung my bell the hardest. And what an improvement. More of the gothic, elegant gloom of classic doom metal bands like Trouble or Candlemass, and less the abrasive, grating nihilism of sludge bands like Grief. It is most welcome to these ears.

The Billy Anderson production is surprisingly dynamic and clear, especially in light of a guy that his made his career as a merchant of mud; who often trading out dynamic range for oppressive heaviness. It’s good to hear an old dog learn new tricks.

Across the board, Architects of the Void is replete with improvements and upgrades, adding a lot of light and shade; to a sound that was a lot of times a bit monochromatic. If you were a bit underwhelmed at past Behold! the Monolith releases, give this a listen. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Snorre Ruch’s highly influential band Thorns finally had a proper release out; lesser known bands like December Wolves(USA), Aborym(Hungary), Cadaver INC(Norway), and Anaal Nathrakh(UK) all made their bones by putting out harsh, industrial/ambient/electronic-infused black metal albums around this time that were making very compelling arguments that the future was now, and it wasn’t looking too good for any of us.

In a relatively short period of time, this sound fell out of vogue. This was due to a glut of pale imitators diluting the style by missing the point entirely, significant only in their total banality. Eventually only a few standard bearers continued on this path. Anaal Nathrakh continues to release consistently strong albums, progressing by expanding on the core themes laid out on The Codex Necro. Mayhem pushed far beyond their polarizing Grand Declaration of War with three nearly unfathomable albums in their scope of pure nihilism and hostility to all life.

So we find a band like Throes plowing a field left fallow for the last decade. I guess the question is, how does it measure up against what came before it? Respectably. While you couldn’t say that Throes takes this style to places it hasn’t been before, they more than capably create a compelling album in the borders already defined by those who came before them.

The mood of this album cold and clinical, without being sterile. Then at times Disassociation is more alive than you expect; like heat given off by fever from an infection. Tremolo picked guitar lines are all gleaming razorwire, spidery riffing thread around minimalist song structures.

Those Akercocke droney chords are a constant throughout Disassociation, which lends an air of paranoia of some sort of approaching malevolent menace, that you hear long before you are unfortunate enough to meet after you can no longer find a place to hide. The end credits roll with an ambient sound collage, a panoramic view of an empty world with noting left to kill.

Throes shift gears through a myriad of moods and sounds effortlessly throughout Disassociation, while staying on point thematically. Every moment of music is measured and controlled, devoid of passion and inhuman. Just efficient, killing machinery, carrying on after the end of the world.

A lot of Arkansas bands draw creatively from the usual suspects that you would expect; Black Sabbath the most readily apparent. Auric are much more modern in scope.

Auric are fluent in the vocabulary of the more arty/weirder elements of extreme metal and hardcore from the last 15 years or so. In one song, these guys can convincingly utilize those skronky, jazz-by-way-of-death metal chords of Gorguts and Ulcerate, the “after the end of the world, roll credits” doom passages of Rune’s seminal End of Nothing, to those circuitous, tribal/trance passages that Neurosis first brought to metal on albums like Souls at Zero, and Enemy of the Sun. I also hear shades of Converge, and to some lesser extent, Mastodon. The Mastodon influence in particular is heavily apparent in the drumming, reminiscent of Brann Dailor’s fluent “drumfills-as-backbeat” style.

Unlike a lot of bands of their ilk, Auric are always tuneful. Some of the better examples of this are the prosaic, melodic instrumental excursions into the post-metal idiom. You know what I’m talking about; shimmering arpeggios meander, threading and weaving through and around the craggy rumble of the drums and bass. ceaselessly climbs towards a seemingly perpetual crescendo; finally to break upon a wall of blood and thunder.

Vocals are emotive enough, sort of a hoarse bellow, not quite venturing into death metal territory. But like so much of extreme music, atonal vocals are there as another instrumental texture. Rarely do they push forward to carry the narrative; as opposed to how they are utilized in most other forms of western music. Though at other times, they do really pop through, and are a welcome delineation between longer instrumental passages.

A minor complaint would be that the drums have an odd, processed sound. I have no problem with drum machines, or triggered drums in general; whatever works, when it works. But everything else on this album sounds organic and integrated, which just makes the weird drum sound that much more noticeable. But it really doesn’t effect the drum performance, which is actually quite good.

I took quite a bit of time to immerse myself in the material, which proved to be worthwhile. While In Empty Seas has a lot of qualities that lend to instant gratification; but the nature of the layered compositions really become apparent and grab you several listens in. In Empty Seas is an album full of many faceted emotions. Auric skilfully navigates from anguish to nihilistic resignation, on to hope and serenity; and a lot of other places in between.

Definitely worth picking up.

Osso make very tactile music. Imagine solid state transistors being alternately over-amped, then under-watt’d until they hum in key, like changing the pitch of a vibrating coiled spring by stretching and contracting it. Roland 808’s and MiniMoogs are being fed into industrial machinery, which are doing the work of machines; which is to grind, hammer, drill, and press.

Then, pile on layer upon layer of burly, bulldozer bass, and tribal, jazzy drums; whose constantly permuting rhythms shuffle and shamble along. Thread angular guitar textures through it for added color.

Now, neglect to tell the vocalist that we’re cutting the record this evening. Instead set up an old tv in the background, which is tuned between two UHF channels; one is showing a nature documentary about whales making sweet, sweet love, and the other is showing an old episode of the PTL Club, and Tammy Faye Baker is going on about Satanists setting up baby farms so that to meet the constant demand for children to sacrifice.

The production is very immediate; loud and confrontational, instruments clipping and woofer cones tearing under the pressure of all of the air moving from them. I imagined some sort of cartoon machine with pressure gauges being pushed into the red, finally to explode with springs, sprockets, and gears flying all over the place.

Since this is a review, not to mention a review on a metal website; I guess I should give you mopes some sort of “genre relevant stylistic check-points” so you can decide if this would be something you’d even be into. Think Zeni Geva, early today is the day, Painkiller, Big Black, Scorn, Unsane, Candiria, first album Swans, Throbbing Gristle, noisy hip hop, or Napalm Death in their experimental/alternative phase. If any of those things are your jams, this is worth a couple of spins.

Like the legions of demo death metal bands that exploded into every corner of the world between 1988-1991, young Supuration proudly wore their influences on their sleeves; but had enough of their own muse to not be completely derivative. Over time, they would move beyond their embrionic influences, evolving into their own thing entirely.

So, in familiarizing myself with the original material after listening to Reveries a few times, I realized these aren’t just straight re-recordings. Apparently most of these are new arrangements of old songs; a key difference is they replaced a lot of blurry early grind parts with a very staccato, mechanical riffing style that is closer in line with their modern material. Also, they’ve done a lot of cool melodic lead fills that bring to mind what Sepultura were doing on songs like “Dead Embrionic Cells”, or Dan Swano’s Pan-Thy-Monium.

I was really impressed by how stylistically literate this band is in classic death metal, which they speak fluently and flawlessly.  This is even more notable in light of how long it’s been since they diverged from their original sound to follow a more proggy/experimental path.

Black Queen make use of a lot of the ingredients of traditional American power metal exemplified by a band like Hammers of Misfortune or early (Lord Weird)Slough Feg, and a touch of primordial black thrash ala Celtic Frost, Venom, or Aura Noir. Add some measured black metal elements, utilized in a similar manner to bands like Weakling and Ludicra.

Ironically I mention a lot of bands on the Northwest coast, because that was my impression prior to learning that Black Queen are somewhat peripheral to that whole scene of musicians. So in light of that, their sound makes sense all the more. Not saying that Black Queen are derivative; moreso that there seems like Black Queen draws from the same well of influences as those other bands.

Keyboards are used to great effect on The Directress. Dig the John Carpenter-esque Creepy Crawl leading into the very aggro and atmospheric “3rd Key”, the whirling of phantasmic blades on “The Name of Snakes”, or how the bouncy and jubilant Hammond organ takes some of the grim po’face out of the proceedings on “Forever Daggers”. Add to that some less readily recognizable samples, and the “Gaillo/Grindhouse horror” vibe Black Queen strives for is a success. Think Necrophagia or Deceased’s Blueprints of Madness levels of creepy.

One of my favorite elements of The Directress are the layered choral melodies, which again bring to mind Ludicra; who were a huge favorite of mine. Just in general, the vocal performances on The Directress are rad as fuck, and add a ton of color and character to this album. I hear there is a whole slew of guest vocalists on this; I couldn’t tell you who did what on what track, but I’d put money Wrest is the dude on final track “The Directress” doing his impression of Garm doing his best Gregorian Monk impression.

(And then he does an impression of an ogre vomiting up his lungs. Good Times!)

Black Queen succeeds on so many levels by taking the narrow path; strong songwriting over flash, and sidestepping the whole “extremity for extremity’s sake” arms race, to direct their energy to playing towards their strengths and personal development of their own sound.

Like so much of what I review on here, I hardly will write a lick about it before I’ve listened enough to be able to hum it in the shower. That’s really the only way I’m able to give an album a fair shot. And a lot of times something will surprise me; albums that flash bright and immediately grab me are the easiest to forget, and the ones that initially underwhelm are the ones that become the most meaningful.

That was definitely the case with The Directress. I went to “meh…” to “huh…”, to “this album is pretty phenomenal” over the space of a month. The Directress might even be a top ten pick for this year.

Hail Horror Hail was a masterful culmination of what Sigh had created up to that point; a kaleidoscopic beast of illogical excess and nightmare that Dario Argento would have had a hard time dreaming up. Hail Horror Hail just took all of the air out of any room it entered. Everyone that I ever played it for had the same reaction; “What the fuck did I just listen to?”. I still consider it Sigh’s masterpiece.

Scenario IV: Dread Dreams played From Wisdom to Hate to Hail Horror Hail‘s Obscura; a slightly more subdued and tuneful sibling to it’s brilliant older brother. In some ways, Scenario IV was even more enjoyable because of it’s restraint and focus on songcraft.

Imaginary Sonicscapes went psychedelic-carnival-funk-pop, with it’s “Chick Corea electric piano plinking, guitars gently weeping, Channel 10’s SportsCenter theme-songing, G-funk Synth whistles” vibe. I loved that album, but it was the beginning of the end of my infatuation with this band. Sigh had walked right up to this invisible line that demarcated my threshold for excess; apparently one I hadn’t even realized was there.

At some point, I just wasn’t into it. By the time Gallows Gallery came out, I was emotionally unplugged, and Hangman’s Hymns, I was filing for divorce.

It wasn’t just Sigh. It was me as well. My musical tastes were changing. It was a part of me that was bewildered that I had ever owned an Arcturus or Marillion album.  It was the same allergic reaction I had when I came into contact with bands like Bal Sagoth, overly technical death metal, and 99% of power metal that didn’t come out of the 1980s. Too much everything, too much of the time. A total lack of subtlety. All pomp and bombast, with no sense of the necessity for tonal shades that create dynamics and emotional resonance.

So here is my coming around full circle; again ready to try to wrap my head-space around Sigh, all these years later. To be honest, I seriously had to shut this off in frustration about three songs in, the first time I put it on. But with grimfaced determination, I pushed through to see if there was anything about this band I could find to be redeemable at all anymore.

This album is every shade of ridiculous. Dig that Glockenspiel. Those Guitar Hero power metal guitars. If the first decade of Sigh was Jodorowsky and Argento, then Graveward is a Michael Bay film. It’s like if Lucasfilm took a shot at simultaneously making a movie and theme park based on whatever the Insane Clown Posse are going on about. Carnivals and magnets and shit.

Ok, I won’t be that harsh. It is all of those things, but Graveward is also immaculately composed, executed, and recorded. It flows well thematically, and where it works, it’s fucking brilliant. Whenever I wasn’t cringing, I was enthralled. Things I absolutely hated at first, became essential as a component of the whole several listens in.

The album opens with “Kaedit Nos Pestis”; which sets the tone for the first half of the album. It’s all sweep picks and J-Pop vocals. I never heard Babymetal, but I would imagine something like this. Very cartoonish. Still not crazy about that song, but again, parts of a whole.  “Graveward” is pretty much a continuation of the first song. They are still using that J-Pop vocal, which still gets on my nerves, but the guitar work is fucking killer. Very Slayer-ish at times. The new guitarist is a beast. Not too crazy about “Tombfiller”, which probably has the most obnoxious vocals of the whole album.

“Forlorn” was the first song I started to really dig. It’s probably the most aligned with old-school Sigh; with it’s viciously sinister headbanger riff, and harpsichords segueing into Hammond organ tones. Mirai sounds unhinged! Rad.

A thing that I did appreciate, and was sort of the one point of I could cling to throughout Graveward, was the core Sigh METAL elements that go all the way back to Scorn Defeat, were still intact. From the sloppy, frenetic, venom worshiping black thrash by way of the NWOBHM riffs, to Mirai’s maniacal screeching, which is the same as it ever was. In some ways, Graveward has some of the most straight up metal out of their whole catalogue.

The second half of Graveward, starting with “Out of the Grave”, shares a lot of the same sonic headspace with Martin Schirenc’s Hollenthon; especially their 2001 oddity With Vilest of Worms to Dwell, with the big Ian Fleming 007 inspired brass orchestration, layered choral vocals, and huge sounding production.

By the end of the album, I couldn’t even imagine it being recorded in some studio; all I could envision was Sigh just jamming this out from start to finish in this huge theater, with a full orchestra, choir, power metal guitar players flying around on mythological beasts; everyone all dressed up like anime characters, 17th century aristocrats, and vikings.

Maybe that’s just the meth talking.

Okay, I’ll admit it. I’ve been an asshole. This album is tacky as fuck, but a lot of fun. If Darkthrone can take off the clown makeup and rock the fuck out, I can remove my stick and enjoy this for what it is. Not an album I would visit on a regular basis, but there was a lot to like about Graveward. It definitely left me intrigued about the last couple of albums between Gallows Gallery and this one.

Family Tomb inhabits the same badlands that the final three Emperor albums did; a place where the progressive, high-brow bombastic pomp of symphonic black metal met and made alliance with vicious and visceral barbarity of death metal. Rory has always sited Emperor as a major influence, and I don’t think it has ever been more blatantly apparent than on this release.

For what was readily admitted by the band to be a DIY, no budget, “recorded on busted up old crap”, affair; I love the sound of Family Tomb. The raw recording of these fairly complex compositions lends it an immediacy and intimate vibe that that made me feel like I’m getting to hear something only meant for a select few, warts and all. Besides, with songs this strong, studio bells and whistles would only get in the way.

The recording is truly in service to the songs; Rory’s penchant for polyphonic composition and instrumental counterpoint lay bare and blatant for those knowing what to look for. Ponderous, walking bass carry throbbing melody lines, which is a technique that was utilized early on in Shroud of Despondency’s career, and I was stoked to see a return of that style. Layers and layers of guitars morph and shift harmonically in perpetual motion, swirling and dense like a poisonous fog full of wasps.

The only holdover from the final Shroud of Despondency line-up is longtime cohort Ron Blemberg, who also sung on the prior two full lengths, various splits, and odds and ends that this band always seem to generate between proper releases. Ron sounds amazing on this, both complementary to the music, and confrontational to the listener.

Range isn’t really the right word when describing atonal extreme metal vocals, but Ron has a few different styles that he switches to and from to great effect. From a caustic “gargling draino” rasp comparative to Grutle Kjellson of Enslaved, to a hoarse, sorrowful bellow characteristic of early Katatonia or Bethlehem. On the track “In View of Birth”, there is a double tracked vocal part with a deeper, semi-guttural death metal roar sung in tandem with Ron’s higher register shriek that added a cool dimension to this song.

The real MVP of Family Tomb are the keyboards; which is sort of surprising to me. It seemed like on the past few albums, a significant amount of the beautiful acoustic sections characteristic of early Shroud were forsaken in lieu of adding more keyboards. I assumed this was a concession to the logistics of performing as a live band, than being a strictly recording project. I was always sort of “meh” about them, because the acoustic parts where a defining characteristic of this band for me. Yet here, the symphonic synth strings really tied everything together, and is the lightning rod that channels the spark that truly brings Family Tomb to life.

I’m assuming the drums are programmed, given the bedroom black metal nature of the recording of Family Tomb.  In light of this, the drums sounds alive and responsive. The patterns are perfectly integrated into the compositions, and the triggered samples sound real as shit.

I felt like with Family Tomb, Rory really got in touch with what compelled him to play black metal in the first place; which at times I felt was missing from the Shroud albums done with a complete band. Not to say that albums like Pine, or  Tied to a Dying Animal  weren’t great albums, because they are, and if you haven’t heard them, do so. But there’s a minor paradigm shift that happens when you hash out songs in a band room situation that is quite different from being a sole composer. I always had more of an emotional connection to SOD when Rory wrote in that format.

Family Tomb really brought me back in time to what sparked my initial love of the genre back in the mid 90s; and I would definitely consider it a worthy last caress from this band.

One thing that surprised me from the get-go, was this defied the stereotype of the “supergroup”. This wasn’t a group of famous musicians that sounds good on paper, but have the musical chemistry of oil on water. This is a cohesive unit, pulling in the same direction.

The band really are there to build a solid foundation for Miller’s vocals. a lot of stuff just chugs along typical Amebix style; clattering volleys of metallic shards that hammer lockstep with the drums one moment, then gallops heroically along Iron Maiden-style triplets the next.

This is a real mixed bag, with a lot going on here. Typically I wouldn’t do a track-by-track style review, but it’s not like there was a stylistic theme to give a general impression of.  So here goes.

“Lazarus” starts off with a big shitkicker industrial metal riff, reminisent of ΚΕΦΑΛΗΞΘ era Ministry. Oscillating synths shift from left to right speaker, and postpunk/deathrock arpeggios add color, setting the tone of the subtle interplay between the two guitarists for the whole album.

“Fire in the Sky” is one of my favorite songs on the album, and would have made a better album opener than “Lazarus”. It hit so many nails right on the head, with it’s quirky little gothic by-way-of “Baba O’Riley” organ, and this wonderfully expansive opening riff that reminds me of “Possession” off of Danzig I. Miller’s vocal phrasing reminds me of Jaz Coleman at his most quirky and acerbic.

“Stonecracker” is just a up-tempo punky thrasher in the motorhead/celtic frost/sodom tradition. Delivers unlike anything else on the album for just being a straight-up asskicker. Enough said.

“Midsummer” – A didgeridoo opens the song, segueing into not so much a riff, but more like heavily strummed, generic grunge chords. My initial impression was this song sounds like Collective soul. Puke.

It picks up about halfway through with another shitkicker riff and oscillating keyboard part.  I would totally hate it, but for Miller’s vocals; like a lot of other things that would be suspect to my own personal tastes on this record, his vocal delivery more than compensates for it.

“Hangman’s Hyll” segues an atmospheric opening into a droney/Kyuss-esque riff, before shifting into the main motiff of this tune. Rob Miller sounds awesome on this, and thematically the closest thing we get to an Amebix song on the whole album. Very European, apocalyptic, and folky. A great example of how amazing Rob Miller is as a lyricist. Really, the showpiece of the whole album.

“We Control the Fear” is a martial, protest-folk-punk song that shapeshifts between symphonic bombast and accoustic, intimate sounds, like Roger Waters‘ masterful use of these same dynamics on The Wall.

“You People” is dark and nihilistic, the chord progression and tonal qualities remind me of Bruce Dickinson’s Chemical Wedding for some odd reason.

“Prison” is a juxtaposition of one of the heavier riffs on the album, with a very jubilant and optimistic sounding chorus, which contrasts a pretty cynical lyric, which was a very characteristic thing that Amebix often did.

“Sons of the Soul” is another song utilizing Roger Waters vocal phrasing and songwriting dynamics parts, then goes into this nasally, apocalyptic streetpreacher raving, with martial drums propelling it forward.

“The Lie” – very similar in style to “Midsummer”, with the 90s altrock/grunge vibe to it, but much more integrated. A better song by far.

“Our Day”- Another very British tune, more roger waters vocal phrasing in the quieter parts, dirgy in others- perfectly integrating the metal with the singer/songwriter stuff. It climaxes with a very typically Amebix metallic gallup, and probably the best display of Away’s tribal inflected drumming on the whole album.

“The Devil Knows His Own” is our folky, epic closer. Could have been on alternative rock radio in 1995. Probably Miller’s most powerful vocal performance on this whole thing. End credits.

Really, this album is more of a Rob Miller solo album, the sort of thing an artist does once they want to branch out and explore sounds outside their (and their fanbases) comfort zone. This album definitely took me outside of my own comfort zone several times, to be honest. It took me a solid month to decide if I even liked it. But having spent this much time with this release was an investment made that allowed me time to appreciate it’s multiple facets, and I see it being in steady rotation for me for the foreseeable future.

If you are familiar with former Angelcorpse guitarist Gene Palubicki in the slightest, you know he’s a dude that does his thing and does it well, regardless of what band moniker he’s currently doing business under; and Blasphemic Cruelty is no different. What we have is about 20 minutes of chaotic and serpentine labyrinths constructed from piles and piles of teutonic thrash riffs (think Sodom by-way-of Coroner), with all of the feral Morbid Angel-isms that Palubicki is known for.

Excellently caustic and vehement vocals and adequate bass playing from Alex Blume; maybe a minor complaint would be that his bass could have been a bit more in the mix. He’s a good player; for a better idea of his playing, check out his muscular and growly tone he gets on Ares Kingdom’s Incendiary.

A truly relentless drumming performance from Gina Ambrosio, who’s only other credit that I’m aware of was that she was slated to play on the last Angelcorpse record, before they got John Longstreth involved – however that came about. She plays extremely well for an unknown player, and I think she could more than hold her own against any drummer playing this style of death metal.

To be quite honest, I don’t understand why Gene has two different bands; the stylistic differences between Blasphemic Cruelty and Perdition Temple are minor to the point of being negligible. Maybe the key difference being that Blasphemic Cruelty is a tad more 80’s style OTT and thrashy, where Perdition Temple is more of a straightforward, hi-octane, speedy death metal, which I’ve always considered a vehicle for Gene to carry the Angelcorpse sound forward. I just think both bands are similar enough that one could absorb the other and make a very nice stew.

All that being said, these aren’t really criticisms; I’m a fan. This EP is a vicious little animal, frothing at the mouth, ready to make you dinner.

Or have you for dinner, rather.

My next experience with Drudkh was 2010’s Handful of Stars, which I thought was amazing. I liked the trancey plod of it; the steady 4/4 backbeat and the huge chords. It put me in the same mood as Brave Murder Day era Katatonia; lush, dark. Seductively simple, yet subtle and sophisticated.

In fact, I was surprised by how divisive it was to all of you. Oh well; pearls amongst swine.

So, when I first put this on, and it wasn’t a Handful of Stars Pt 2, I was sort of disappointed. To say the least, my first play-through was underwhelming. Generic – where are the riffs? Not quite gayer than Wolves in the Throneroom. However, my second play-through had my rapt attention. Rad. Very audible bass. There’s those riffs. Everything is as it ought to be.My third time through, and only this existed.

Swirling, lush, beautifully pastural melodies, with just slithering veins of discordant menace, drifting through the air like a fleeting scent of distant death amongst an orchard in bloom.

I haven’t enjoyed a folk/pagan/nature-worshipping black metal album this much in a while, and I think A Furrow Cut Short can hold it’s own against Titans of the genre such as Ulver’sBergtatt, Borknagar’s Olden Domain, or Blut Aus Nord’s Memoria Vetusta III.

Truly beautiful music.