Connecticut’s Bedroom Rehab Corporation enter the fray as another two-piece drum and bass combo, combining the rambunctious flavor of Big Business’ Here Come the Waterworks with rockier stoner infused doom. Their debut full length, the nautically themed Red Over Red, is an excellent first outing, rich with hearty riffs and deep sinking hooks. The sea faring theme of the album dominates the lyrics while moments of gull-baiting noise and a bloopy aquatic bass tone add a bit of atmosphere to an otherwise straightforward affair. It’s a fine debut and one of the most infectious I’ve heard in some time.

Proper tone is absolutely crucial when you only have one instrument filling a role normally reserved for two or more musicians. Bassist/vocalist Adam Wujtewicz fills the void with an impeccable bass tone, stout and burly, excellently rendered by crisp production. Wujtewicz lays thick driving riffs and modulates his voice between a clean vocal style, something closer to a shout, and a hoarse scream. The arrangements are relatively simple and highlight the contrasting moments of heady grooves and sedate punctuation. Wujtewicz occasionally reaches in to a grab bag of pedal effects to fold in additional layers of noise, but for the most part is content to keep things simple and riff oriented. The other half of the equation is drummer Megan Killimade, who ably grounds the riffs and provides Red Over Red’s dynamic backbone. She locks her bass and snare to Wujtewicz’s rumbling swerve and uses quick tumbles across the snare and toms for transitions.

Though initial impressions ring the Big Business bell, Bedroom Rehab Corporation hew fairly close to the modern stoner rock milieu. There’s straightforward up-tempo stoner rock moments (“Basilosaurus” and “Captain Damnit”) and a few moodier pieces built on grooves (“Gone by the Boards”). The stock ingredients may be familiar but the two piece approach, the bass-forward production, and the obvious chemistry between Killimade and Wujtewicz put Red Over Red above much of the unwashed stoner rock masses. There’s a good deal of variety in their approach and they have some nice incorporations of noise here and there.

Bedroom Rehab Corporation have put together a solid piece of doom influenced stoner rock, one that I’ve enjoyed thoroughly. There’s not a whole lot that’s new here, but the two piece drum and bass approach and the overall racket they produce is different enough to be intriguing. There’s a lot of potential in Red Over Red, and perhaps with more expansive and integrated use of noise and effects they could be on to something genuinely unique.

Oblique… opens with the band’s longest, most ambitious song yet. “Brooding Hex” sprawls forth from a dark atmospheric opening before shifting in to the band’s established black/doom plod. Additional layers of synth and noise give the crawling guitar and distorted vocals a more typical black metal feel, before breaking off for the guitarists to churn out a dark groove. The synths and noise spring back several minutes later for more plodding doom and an extended droning coda to wrap up the final four minutes of the 19 minute monster.

It’s a fitting opening, one that sets the table for a feast of oppressive metal. They continue with some bleating riffing on “Illuminati” that would be home on any number of noisy hardcore albums, and drag an epic Candlemass-esque riff through the dirt on “March of the Wolves”, while copiously using drones, noise, and feedback to segue between songs. The use of drones and noise has been expanded far beyond that of their debut and the overall flow of the album is improved. Like the stellar III by Portland’s Hell, the quiet moments, the drones, the build ups turn what often sounded like slow black metal on Below… into genuinely crushing monuments of doom. Mastering the ebb and flow is a big part of what makes great doom great, and Culted have really improved on that front.

Culted have slapped a sizeable portion of flesh on the skeletal black/doom of their debut. The new meat is welcome, though the extended running time (at 62 minutes Oblique… is about 15 minutes longer than Below…) and droning segues make the last portions of the album an endurance test as the murky production starts to wear on the material. Some of the segues could be pared down and the noise and feedback more married to the music proper, but Oblique to All Paths is still a solid album on the merits and a nice improvement on the band’s take on doom.

Older Gods opens on a strange note, with an odd frog snore croaking away like an amphibious Rip van Winkle snoozing the years away nestled snugly in a dank cave.  The fragmented sample collage recalls the long gone Pica and Steve O’Donnell’s LSD-infused toy mash ups. “Offering” then changes tone from the oddly whimsical to a darker mood, with twinkling guitar and swarms of background feedback. “The Future Past” is a juddering mess of hammering rhythmic noise, shuddering epileptically with the odd cadence of particularly nasty breakcore.  “First Earth” and closer “Above Reason” settle in, evoking the chill of classic Cold Meat Industry death industrial, Gruntsplatter, and Lull.

“All Ends Revealed” stands out though as the most original and fresh sounding track here. Featuring guest appearances by Tuka Shahidi and Max Deneau of eyeswithoutaface, Szarejko takes a blistering live drum performance by Tuka and packs in layers of scalding noise and feedback. Max’s contribution, some surreal Burroughs-esque spoken word, preludes clatter drum taps and a brief blast beat before electronics and a shifting synthetic orchestral backing appear to build to a harsh noise and drum freak out. Calling to mind a more restrained Death Unit, the sprawling five minute long harsh noise jam concludes with howling vocals and crumples in an exhausted heap for a slow droning fade.

Ambient, drone, and noise are marginal genres even among the extreme music underground. They’re all love or hate propositions, split between the people who see them as boring, lacking any talent or skill in their creation, and the highly debatable proposition that they aren’t “real” music, and the people who identify with the genres’ atmosphere and subversive nature. There is very little in the way of middle ground and as someone who counts himself a fan of harsh and decidedly unconventional (or as some would say, unlistenable) forms of music, I have to say that Older Gods stands is one of the better recent examples of experimental music. It’s well paced and arranged, and captures the anything-goes mentality that informs the best work in the field.

Opener “Shifting Decay” is the highlight here and a promising show of the band’s talents. They tread the down tempo shifting chord work with rumbling elliptical percussion, and shift downhill to a dirty rhythmic section. Vocal roars wail above the head nodding bounce before the tone shifts to trudging sludge. They cut this off with a roiling piece of swarming drums ala High on Fire, broken periodically by gruff vocal exhortations. The maelstrom of aggression shifts to some down tempo chugging, wrapping up a solid opener that lays the groundwork for a devastating EP.

Unfortunately, the band never returns for another cathartic bout of aggression, instead opting for a more straightforward sludge sound echoing Neurosis and Amenra. The chord progressions and ambiance are similar as they touch upon the same emotional malaise and dour post-rock atmospheres currently touted by any number of modern sludge fans. This says nothing to the quality of the tracks, as “Hollowed”, the short shot “Colony of Machines”, and closer “Denisova”, are all effective pieces of heavy, somber music, but they never return to the cathartic boiling point of the closing portions of the opening song.

Mollusk is a band in the midst of an evolution. The shorter format of their debut with its linking songs and transitional ambient pieces has moved to longer song arrangements that allow them more room to gradually adjust tone, atmosphere, and tempo. And though the songwriting has matured and improved, the band would do well to incorporate more of the hard edged aggression they so aptly display in “Mirrored Sphere” from their debut and on “Shifting Decay” from Colony of Machines. The added diversity would make their post-rock influence sludge forays more impactful and the already brutal aggressive passages even more deadly.

Closely following in the visceral footsteps of 2009’s Houses of the Unholy, Church of Misery tackles their patented murder centric shtick with grotesquely merry exuberance. Though the band’s sound is firmly and heavily influenced by Black Sabbath, there’s also a massive dose of classic heavy rock (think Blue Oyster Cult and Grand Funk Railroad) that lifts them to a place few of their contemporaries can reach: music that’s as dark as it is just a good fuckin’ time. The tone of the lyrics, the permagrin inducing grooves and psychedelic freakouts should be as incongruous as nuts and gum. But founding member Tatsu and company turn the dark art of murder into a Technicolor blood orgy with all the glee of the Manson family blasted on tabs of blue sunshine. Thy Kingdom Scum is a snapshot of a band who have nailed their craft, and they roll around in the glorious rock and roll carnage like giggling school children.

Take “Cranley Gardens”, for example. Based on the works of Dennis Nilsen, it opens up with that familiar bloopy psyche rock tone, builds to a thick doomy riff, and breaks loose as a ball-breaking rocker that sounds like it should be accompanied by a gaggle of dancing bell-bottomed lovelies. Vocalist Hideki Fukasawa’s guttural exhortation “I’m gonna fuck you! I’m gonna kill you!” lays the sleaze on extra thick before the band effortlessly shifts into an intense cover of Quatermass’ “One Blind Mice”. The departure of longtime guitarist Tom Sutton (ex-Firebird) hasn’t diminished their ability to induce psychotropic visions, as newcomer Ikuma Kaawabe melts neurons with his effortless freakouts on “Brother Bishop”, “Cranley Gardens” and closer “Dusseldorf Monster”.

Grinning ear to ear while stabbing a stranger in the face… it’s a perverse combination and these guys have honed it to such a fine point that they really have no equal. Not even Electric Wizard capture the dark, trashy underbelly of hippie and stoner culture like Church of Misery. Crank up this shit up and let there be doom.

Probably the two most important aspects of classic/epic doom are the vocals and the riffs. Epicus Doomicus Metallicus wouldn’t be the benchmark it is without the operatic vocals of Johan Längquist or Leif Edling’s heavy and emotive songwriting. Demon Lung pull off both aspects well and add a few touches of their own to the classic script. Vocalist Shanda Fredrick has a majestic voice, carrying the songs and fully realizing the dark atmosphere of the riffs. Her voice is less operatic than Längquist or, to cite a more recent example, Iban Arrieta of Great Coven and Warchetype, but it is nonetheless wide ranging and soulful. She has a deeper register than many of her female contemporaries , similar in tone to Sharie Neyland’s work with The Wounded Kings, and her voice maintains a dark femininity fit for the album’s solemn theme.

The riff work and songwriting is mix of early Cathedral, Candlemass, and just a hint of stoner doom. Big languid riffs coupled with faster trad metal riffing accompanied by persistent double bass, effective background use of organ and tolling bells, and trudgy stomps and effective harmonies. Guitarist Philip Burns enjoys his pinch harmonics and he regularly accents his riffs with squealing vigor, sort of a Zakk Wylde by way of Gaz Jennings performance. Everything is very clean and tight without superfluous leads or solos. There are a handful of standout riffs, notably the openings of “Heathen Child” and “Eyes of Zamiel” that nail the trad doom spike with appropriate force, and some catchy lyrical lines writhing about, but not much truly pops. Solid and consistent, good but not great.

The foundation clearly exists, but despite the band’s obvious talents The Hundredth Name is lacking that little extra zezz to push it over the top. Shanda sounds like she’s holding back at times, perhaps in a bid to avoid the vocal excess that follows the style. Maybe it’s that I expect a certain amount of over-the-top hamminess with my classic doom (i.e. Saint Vitus with Scott Reagers, Cirith Ungol, and everyone who ever sang for Candlemass) and so would appreciate a more outrageous vocal performance, but the restraint is understandable and well executed. Nitpicking aside, there are few better ways to get your modern epic doom fix than Demon Lung, and their debut’s speaks to growing strengths that suggest their best is still on the horizon.

Devil hasn’t refined their approach as much as they’ve distilled it, spilling forth an album 100% riff centered doomy rock. The rough production that defined their demo and debut is still present, along with the simple verse-chorus song structure. Guitarists Kai and Stian have focused their Sabbath/Witchfinder General mash up, coughing up bluesy doom riffs with just a bit of garage rock spirit and edge. Joakim’s vocals have been turned down a bit, but his delivery is as straightforward as ever. The lyrics are similarly occult themed, something that’s become a prerequisite for the retro doom lot, but remain more ear catching than most.

Gather the Sinners is rich with a charm many of Devil’s peers lack. Like Clutch and Church of Misery, they have the power to get the old noggin nodding and instantly put you in a good mood. There’s a total lack of pretension and a certain level of cliché that makes their songs breeze by and worm their way through your ears. Tracks like “Southern Sun”, “Beyond the Gate” and “Demons on Wheels” scratch the doom and gloom itch nicely with their infectious choruses and Sabbathy riffs. “Darkest Days” is like a marriage between Pentagram and Witchfinder General, with its “Love on Smack” rhythmic rigidity giving way to a riff that channels Victor Griffin’s despondent warble. “Darkest Days” captures the light-hearted spirit that mitigates the all too serious occult imagery that surrounds this style of music.

Gather the Sinners is not as diverse as Time to Repent, but this is to the band’s advantage. It’s nearly 20 minutes longer than the debut with no recycled material to hold them back. Barring the doom forays and the sub two minute acoustic break in album’s middle, they maintain a mid paced stomp throughout. Of course, it’s the rough edges that set them apart from their musically polished peers. They’re not as technical on their instruments compared to Kadavar or Graveyard, and they don’t nail the Sabbath worship as well as Orchid, and that’s what makes them refreshing. They’re the Hell’s Angels among the bell bottomed hippies, bashing out simple, memorable songs perfect for pounding beers and drunken sing-alongs.

Hell has an outstanding grasp of the conventions of doom and black metal and how they complement each other. Blackened tremolo picked riffs are laid over slow, deliberate drums and evolve from a blasphemous cacophony to feverish psychedelia as the tempos shift. Big, spacious doom riffs morph into mid-paced black metal that shifts to a sprint before dropping mammoth waves of doom. They take their time building the atmosphere, shifting styles and delivering intensely satisfying payoffs at the end of each track. “Mourn” drops a series of chord concussions heavy enough to flatten a city block. “Decedere” ends with a big thick riff, burgeoned by an emergent thick bass tone.

The production is of the typically trebly black metal variety, but the filthy tone of the bass is prominent and adds just the right amount of thickness to the mix. It’s a grim marriage, one that provides heft and weight without sacrificing the ethereal analog fog. III was originally released on cassette last year and the production accurately reflects the intended format. Judging from the sounds of the digital promo, I’d wager this new LP run sounds even better.

Despite the fairly lame name, Hell manages a delicate stylistic balancing act that makes the moniker rather apt. It’s a tall task managing dark atmosphere, big riffs, and slicing bursts of violence and Hell does a better job of fusing doom and black metal than any of their peers. III trumps their excellent early material in scope and structure, and is possibly the best example of the style released in the past few years. Fans of both black metal and doom should get a great deal of satisfaction from this release and I highly recommend digging into their back catalog as well.

While the tone has largely stayed the same, Sofy Major’s self-described noise hardcore has shifted a bit toward the noise rock end of the spectrum. Idolize is nestled steadfast in their careening noise rock wheelhouse, it’s more stylistically tangled with the likes of Unsane and Helmet, but mediated by shades of Kyuss’ stoner rock. The songs are more kinetic, bouncier, and with more angular riffing, and even catchier. The wide emotional swath cut by Permission to Engage is fully shaded here. The pummeling is matched by a wealth of hooks and a variety of vocal styles. The songwriting is more mature and the songs are more cohesive and compelling.

“Aucune Importance” marries the familiar Keelhaul-style swing of Permission to Engage with Helmet’s clobbering staccato guitar. Unsane’s Dave Curran makes a guest vocal appearance on “Steven the Slow” to add extra heft to some already mountainous riffing. “UMPKK pt.2” nails a laid back bending groove bordering on grungy stoner rock. Sofy Major have sussed out a recipe, not unlike Torche or late period Cave In, to balance their noisy roots with ear catching punk and stoner rock. The album’s only hiccup is “Seb”, a track of drifting guitar and noise laid atop a rambling female voice that’s used as a segue to the last third of the album.

Idolize is an impeccable album of noisy rock. Full of grit and nuance, pissed off and catchy as hell, it’s a testament of the determination and hard work of the band and their producer. That the record was completed is an amazing feat in itself, and for them to come through in such excellent fashion… Well, gentlemen, that’s just balls.

The two LP tracks, “Chaoskampf” and “Brazen Bull of Phalaris”, travel the well worn slow mo doom path, but pull quite a few cues from death/doom, black metal, and sludge. Vocals alternate between a low death growl and a high throaty scream. There’s an emphasis on melody and harmonic interplay between the two guitars that lends an emotional weight to the music similar to recent releases from Pallbearer and 40 Watt Sun. “Chaoskampf” breaks the despondent harmonies with a blackened mid section before returning to the dirge to decay to a slow phasing droning conclusion. “Brazen Bull…” stays down tempo throughout, drops the distortion for a clean ambient break in the middle before the massive riffing returns for a transition to clean tones and a trickling conclusion.

The two downloadable tracks round off a full 55 minute runtime. “Monuments to Avarice” has some excellent Black Shape of Nexus style chugging drone mixed in, while “Empirical Evidence of a Deranged God” starts in more typical doom fashion. A brief sample introduces a choppy Sabbath riff and a broken homage to Sleep’s “Sonic Titan” before more massive dirge follows, closing with  lengthy bout of fast blackened guitar over lumbering drums and bass. Those opening moments are the only hints of stoner/doom cliché and area little out of place with the rest of the album.

All told, Usnea’s debut is excellent and brings back many happy memories of Ocean (RIP). The slow trickling harmonies, the monumental dirge, the slowly ebbing songs coalescing around a weighty melancholic atmosphere is a refreshing reprieve from drone/doom monotony and stoner Sabbath worship. This young band has delivered quite a sucker punch and sludge/doom aficionados and fans of Peaceville’s early catalog should take note.

From the opening notes of “Worthless” to the withering closure of “Masks”, Archon maintains a staid, meditative approach highlighted by the use of synth and noise. Synths and effects are laid atop the guitars, which now sport a tone comparable to s/t-era Saint Vitus, to great effect, producing a substantially ominous atmosphere. The songs are, for the most part, kept down-tempo with a few up ticks, notably the hobbled black metal pacing in “God’s Eye” and the muddled chaos of “Desert Throne”. Great use is made of the two vocalists, as deep death growls, throaty blackened rasps, and clean vocals slither alongside and atop one another.

The new vintage sounding production is good, but the emphasis on atmosphere comes at a price. The crests seem slower and smaller, and riffs don’t pop like they do on Ruins at Dusk.  Of course, they still manage to drop a handful of nasty doom bombs along the way. The way they build tension at the end of “Masks” to a glorious eruption in to a chugging riff that shifts to sustained doom notes as pitched noise drags in the background is marvelous. The psych solo toward the end of “Desert Throne” is excellent, and the interplay between the two vocalists in the middle of “Worthless” is just pure coldblooded darkness and a textbook example of how having multiple dedicated vocalists can enhance a song.

All of this brings me back to my initial statement. Expectations can put a damper on anything, no matter how good it is. A perfectly cooked burger will taste like bitter ash if you’re expecting a turkey club, but unlike ordering at a restaurant where it’s expected you get what you want, musicians are free to take whatever path they choose, regardless of what the audience wants. Is Ouroboros Collapsing a damn fine record? It sure as balls is. Is it really what I wanted to hear from them? No, it isn’t. But you know what? Fuck me. In the end, they produced another good album, one that holds up incredibly well to both their contemporaries in the doom scene and to their debut album. Ruins at Dusk will always be there for me to revisit, and until then I can enjoy the new stuff for what it is. A wonderfully atmospheric album of mammoth doom, the kind of stuff that conjures the scent of dead air drifting through an abandoned chapel, all darkness and omens, invoking all the apocalyptic dread this shithole earth can handle.

Fistula hearken back to the glory days of Grief, Buzzov*en, and Eyehategod, when sludge was synonymous with crime, misery, and substance abuse. They churn the classic influences through a grind/punk keef screen and come out sounding unhinged and surprisingly infectious. Corey Bing’s lacerated vocal cords exclaim “I’m gonna get fucked up today!” as the solidified three piece blasts through opener “Sobriety is Overrated”. Catchy like hep c on a dirty set of works, you’ll be screaming “Pills! Drink! Toke!” alongside him after a couple of listens. Nate Linehan’s ripping blast beats churn along some grinding riffs and some sharp shifts to down tempo sludge on “Lightbulb Smoker” and “Kanker Nose”. Meanwhile they throwback to their Idiopathic days of churning mid tempo riffs on “The Fang” and finish with some stomping punk.

The production is ensconced in a tomb of mud and is grimy as hell. Bing’s guitar tone is caked with dirt, the bass is a grind-like jarring tangle, and the chugging moments are swamped in a distorted buzz. The vocals are prominent in the mix and are barked out with conviction and a surprising clarity. This is quintessential sludge right here. It’s a perfect encapsulation of the classic metal low-life, all iron veins and raging criminality, nothing but contempt and hostility for anyone and everything. If you love your metal dirty and aggressive, it’s impossible to recommend this enough.

The quintet has restrained Sundown’s notable aggression and dialed back the squalling approach. Sky Burial is meditative and deliberate in composition. Riffs are repeated more often and the breakneck genre swings are subdued. They’ve ratcheted the psychedelia up, veering off in to the territory of Subarachnoid Space, while maintaining their trademark brutality. Grinding blasts, black metal inspired passages, crawling doom and sludge, and angular Spaceboy-style math riffing all make appearances, as each style folds in to the other.

This everything-and-the-kitchen-sink approach would be a disaster in less talented hands, but Inter Arma take the challenge and smoke it like fine Tibetan hash. “The Survival Fires” burns out on corrosive blasting and off kilter chugging only for them to rebuild the pyre over the course of the two track “The Long Road Home”. The first part is an emotional acoustic segue toward a towering spaced out psych monster second half. Floydian guitar drips build to a swirling, flowing lead, ultimately unfurling in a denouement of black metal blasting and throat shredding screams. “Destroyer” follows with a ten minute meditation on a single minimalist riff that stacks higher and higher as the drums build to a pounding conclusion.

“sblood” shares the minimalist approach of “Destroyer”, and serves as a roiling transition to “Westward”. Rolling toms tumble circuitously to a hard boil, building a smartly restrained tension that never breaks. The abrupt end makes the impact of the massive sludge groove a few minutes in to “Westward” all the more earth shaking. The stage is set for closing duo “Love Absolute” and the titular closing track. “Love Absolute” follows the template set by the first part of “The Long Road Home” laying a solemn memorial before the vultures arrive and the ravages of “Sky Burial” set in. Heady atmospheres and a slow burning plod ultimately devolve to a frenzy of angular math metal riffing, like Spaceboy swallowing Neurosis, for a suitably exhausting conclusion to an epic album.

Sky Burial is a genuine musical achievement. It’s an album of massive scope, a perfect marriage of image, art, concept, and musicality. Inter Arma has released a challenging, genre bending aural feast of metal that goes beyond doom, beyond sludge, and beyond the endless tagging efforts of subgenrephiles to land in that coveted spot of just fucking heavy. It’s not easy to stand out when you’re on label that hosts titans like Brutal Truth, Unearthly Trance, and Cough, but these boys from Richmond have carved out their own space and thrown down a serious fuckin’ gauntlet for the rest of the metal scene.

Similarly, Toronto’s eyeswithoutaface firmly established their industrial metal bona fides on their debut full length Monotoneoteny, a dynamic trip through psychedelic sludge and heavy electronics. These experimental sludge overlords kick the dreaded sophomore slump square in the balls on their newest album, Warguts. The scathing intensity of Monotoneoteny has been kicked up a couple notches to a blistering salvo of electronics, scalding vocals, and pummeling double bass. Top it off with some bursts of rapid fire snare and the big beats of Techno Animal and Scorn and it’s another ear searing release of industrial metal from this overlooked band.

If the art and title haven’t given it away, Warguts is thematically centered on war. Typical portrayals of valorized soldiers, martial imagery, and the horrors of war have been fodder for hundreds of albums by now, but there is very little of the human element in eyeswithoutaface’s take. Not much of Warguts sounds organic. From the distorted vocals and varied drum samples, to the heavy use of synths and noise, Warguts is less an exploration of human conflict than an audio representation of mechanized trench warfare, as down tempo sludge collides with stuttering programmed double bass, halting rhythms and big beats.

A large part of the albums success is how it unfolds in a series of battles and breaks. Shifting from cold industrial ambiance to harsh metallic sludge with the grace and subtly of a cloud of mustard gas sweeping through a trench, the band weaves an impressive mechanized tapestry. “Devachan” starts with a big, fat beat that abruptly shifts to a stuttering double bass break and guttural vocals. “Dead Friends” has a nasty drum break with bleating electronic, sheets of noise, warped guitar and erratic drum programming. “Beautiful and Cruel” utilizes haunting clean vocals over an array of echoing percussion, slow picked guitar, and grinding bass. “War Will Set You Free” opens with a sample from Stanley Kubrick’s classic Paths of Glory before the mechanized guitar kicks in, collapses to a roaring trudge, then short circuits into sputtering electronics and pounding bass kicks.

Warguts, like Monotoneoteny, is full of great moments but surpasses its predecessor in sheer intensity. The increased drum and bass influence has only made the band heavier and seemingly more focused. Eyeswithoutaface has once again delivered the goods for fans of heavy, fucked up industrial metal.

Regarde Les Hommes Tomber add a few wrinkles to the blackened sludge milieu with their self titled debut. Mining similar influences as country mates Celeste, they combine the wiry riffing of black metal with atmospheric sludge and a big dose of hardcore to create an album that doesn’t sit neatly within any of the aforementioned categories. Tastes of early Envy and Amenra ride along with the double bass fed grooves of a less angular A Life Once Lost and the sharp riffing of Craft. Though they lack the caustic noise addled vibe of Celeste, it’s a stew that works mighty well, with a nice blend of aggression, atmosphere, and a subtle melodic sense.

RLHT do a great job blending their influences into a cohesive whole. “Wanderer of Eternity” has the most identifiably hardcore influence, while the rest of the songs balance the metallic hardcore leanings with the buzzing riffs and familiar sprinting drums of black metal. “Of Flames, Flesh, and Sin” starts out with wiry guitars threading around each other before transitioning to a bouncy groove with a creeping guitar running in the background. The title track is a short atmospheric interlude of discordant bass and guitar feedback. “A Thousand Years of Servitude” opens with trudging flits of double bass and builds to full on blasting. Closing track “The Fall” is perhaps most representative of their influences, surging from chunky riffing to blasting and steady double bass, and finally breaking down to a slowly fading sludgy outro.

The production is decidedly unblack. Punchy and crisp, it’s thick enough to sound heavy while keeping the blackened riffing sharp. There’s a nice variety in vocal shifts, though they stick within the standard black metal/sludge range of raspy screams and roaring shouts, and the songs are tightly composed. If anything they are perhaps too controlled and they never really capture the caustic unhinged spirit of black metal that Celeste pulls off so nicely. At times the genre grafting may be a bit too straightforward, but, by the same token, the influences meld swimmingly and the combination is thoroughly enjoyable.

They may not satisfy the true kvlt black metal types and the hardcore influence may be off putting for some, but Regarde Les Hommes Tomber has produced a fine debut that’s worth a listen. Given the influences on hand, it should be interesting to see where they take their sound next. For now though, their self titled is impressive and fans of the aforementioned bands and black metal intoned heavy music should find something to enjoy here.

Maleficia Lamiah owes as much to Pink Floyd’s psychedelic implosions as it does to Sleep’s wall of fuzz and stoned repetitions. Guitarist/vocalist Pete ____ has spent many years and a small fortune cultivating a collection of amps to develop his guitar tone and it shows. The tone is big and lush, like amplified moss pulsing with a lively thrum, and is carried by Carolyn’s Hakius-like tumbling rhythms. The depth of sound they achieve with two instruments is remarkable, as the duo move from the crush of lumbering doom to paint tripped out water colored canvasses.

“Maleficia Lamiah” starts, like their other releases, firmly fixed in the stoner doom tradition of Dopesmoker-era Sleep. Pete’s vocals are smoothed out a bit, as he moves away from the hoarse groan to something more rock inspired. It’s not long though before the band takes an extended psych bath in the murky LSD tainted waters of Pink Floyd and the 13^th Floor Elevators characterized by reverberating tones, quiet drums, and soft vocals. They eventually build it back up, cranking the amp buzz and distortion to build layers of sound to carry the song out on a cascading melody buried in a wooly riff. “Grave Cardinal” similarly spends the middle third of its 22 minutes in mellow psych territory, adding in some organ while exploring the umbra connecting Om and “Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun”.

All told, this is an excellent new release and a definite step forward for this band. With doom becoming more and more saturated by the day, Pombagira have really started to define themselves among the cadre of Sleep/Electric Wizard/Sabbath soundalikes. Maleficia Lamiah is an excellent album, heavy and with a ton of depth, that will no doubt appear on the year end lists of many doom fans.

What’s this have to do with Rise Above Dead? Well, they could be lazily dumped in to the post-metal void like a billion other bands but my admittedly irrational hatred of the term prevents me from doing so. Rise Above Dead’s heavier bits are firmly rooted in the down tempo hardcore/sludge realm of Neurosis, and their frequent forays into trippier atmospheres journey to the borders of doom and psych rock. Stellar Filth is sort of a combination of Souls at Zero hardcore sludge and Thou’s quieter, more psychedelic moments. It’s not startlingly original, but a decent enough full length.

“Hide and Weeps” riffing begins like an ever so slightly faster Amenra, drops to some down struck sludge, before slowing down with cleaner tones to build to a billowing solo and crashing  with more down struck sludge. The largely instrumental title track starts slowly as tensions mount for some trudging heavy and a scrawling layer of noisy guitar. The instrumental track “End of a Kingdom” stands out with some good heavy riffage that emerges after a solid three and a half minutes of quietly building instrumentation. The ebbs and flows are what you would expect and they ride the waves of heavy and clean nicely. The execution is good, if not particularly moving or exciting.

The weak link is the vocals. Despite the music riding a disparate emotional flow, from raw to contemplative, the vocals are stuck on a roaring plateau regardless of the musical tone. They just aren’t as expressive as the music and feel out of place at times. The gruff vocal approach worked well enough on their debut EP Human Disintegration but Stellar Filth has more variety, is more exploratory, and has longer songs than that early taster. Rise Above Dead is clearly trying to stretch out a bit but are held back by vocals wedded to that earlier approach. Nevertheless, this is a promising start and, given the changes made in the time between EP and full length, they may still pull out something great in the coming years.

Primitive Man is at their best when putting teeth rattling mid-tempo sludge similar to the Abominable Iron Sloth or Black Sheep Wall. Clinging to the Trees of a Forest Fire’s Ethan McCarthy provides an abrasive throaty roar as the buzzing guitars seesaw between droning doom passages, crusty charges, and sludgy outbursts. Opening track “Scorn” provides their template, opening with punishing grind-sludge and a crusty hardcore blowout before they slide on down the doom ladder creeping slower and slower with a coda bathed in dead air and feedback. “Antietam” has a really excellent aggressive break in the middle of its second half droning doom and the opening of “Rags” is a bludgeoning bit of filthy sludge guaranteed to put a dent in your head.

The atmosphere they create is impressive. Dark, immense, and oppressive as hell, it’s accented and heightened by two rather excellent ambient/noise tracks; “Black Smoke and “I Can’t Forget”. The undulating rhythmic pulse of “Black Smoke” is coated in a haunting choir-like drift. “I Can’t Forget” builds on clattering percussion, processed vocals, and distant guitar tones, sounding like the soundtrack from the band’s underground torture chamber.

But with the good come the bad and I’m afraid Scorn suffers the doom. Droning doom passages dominate many of the songs and tend to drift on a little too long. Some of the slow riffs feel ill defined, as though the notes aren’t connected to each other. The doom/drone passages work better as accents, like on “Rags”, rather than as centerpieces, as on “Antietam” and the last half of “Scorn”. As such there’s a meandering tendency to the songs that undercuts the immediacy and violence of the aggressive portions. Still, for fans of aggressive sludge like Bowel and Black Sheep Wall, Scorn will hit the spot like a leaden brick, Primitive Man breaking your face as easily as they’ll drown you in feedback. It may not be perfect, but it’s a damn fine start.

Sole Creation’s four lengthy tracks sprawl out over 44 minutes, the shortest song running just a shade over nine. Right from the opening riffing and initial bombast of “Sole Creation” it’s easy to hear this is a changed band. David Johansson, who handled the recording of all the vocals, guitars, and bass, has shifted away from the one dimensional growls of Shadows and Counting Heartbeats to employ a variety of vocal styles. The growls are still here, shifting from low death metal to higher pitched shrieks and the familiar roar from earlier material, but they are tempered and balanced impressively by his clean vocals. There’s a little Ozzy, a little Layne Staley, and even a twinge of Steve Brooks in them.

The tracks reflect the new vocal dynamism.  “Sole Creation” opens with the familiar early Isis inflected sludgy doom, this time with a little more momentum. “Tamed Brute” builds on a low slung riff ala Floor with the vocals taking on a closer resemblance to the Floor/Torche frontman’s emotive croon before delving into doomy riffing and low vocal growls. The track peaks with a short burst of double bass and death metal riffing before fading out with some doom dirge. “The Portals” starts with more post-hardcore before the double bass kicks in, the riffing picks up and a nice section of black metal inspired rage emerges. “Skymning”, the final track, is a atmospheric sludge/doom song, reminiscent of Cult of Luna or Neurosis, slowly developing and building on one of the biggest riffs of the album.

The songs are long, but never feel dragged out. There’s no unnecessary repetition of riffs, a problem that cursed of Shadows of the Shapeless, and the restrained use of double bass and tremolo picked riffs is immensely effective. The songs feel compact and tight and everything is all ensconced in a robust production, mixed and mastered by Cult of Luna’s Magnus Lindberg. Sole Creation is Kongh’s best album yet and is the best thing I’ve heard thus far in 2013. Between Cult of Luna’s newest, Sole Creation, and the prospect of a new Pyramido album, Sweden may have a sludge triumvirate in 2013 to match 2012’s stoner rock trifecta Witchcraft, Graveyard, and the Graviators.

The Electric Wizard- Danzig mash-up is admittedly a little flip. The resemblance is undeniable but the band is more dynamic than the Wizard and they eschew the murky throwback production of Witchcult for something brighter and fuzzier. Moreover, despite vocalist Dorian Bones rather uncanny semblance to Danzig, his voice is a sight more theatrical, more informed by classic doom than punk. It’s a far cry from his work with black n’ roll maniacs Whiskey Ritual and he provides the band a unique voice.

“Leviathan” sets the pace, opening with a big, fuzzy stoner riff and Bones’ warbling vocals, eventually melding and unfolding via a walking Oborn-style wah laden lead. “Ode to Lucifer” continues the steady nodding pace with gut-busting balls of stoner doom fuzz and “Sons of Thelema” follows up with more chugging plod and fuzzed out grooves. By the time they trot out a lead similar to Leviathan’s about a minute in to “Horus Eye” you’ve heard everything they have to offer, the last half follows steadfastly from the first. No matter, Caronte roll on, content to stumble and lumber along in an expertly baked haze. They continue the steady doom pour and trudge on through the conclusion of Ascension’s 54 minutes.

Ascension isn’t very original, but it’s a solid listen. Dorian Bones’ unique vocal warbles and solid riffs (check out the dirty groove about 3:50 in to “Solstice of Blood”) make it easier to stomach what might otherwise be an average release. It’s no bullshit, no surprises stoner doom, for better and for worse. There’s definitely a bit of enjoyment to be had here so fans of Windhand and Pilgrim should give these Italian fellows a listen.

Mass V remains stylistically similar to Mass IIII (No, that’s not a typo). The four lengthy tracks plod along in a steady rhythmic gait, wrapped in slow, purposeful riffs and textures. Amenra are often lumped in with Neurosis, Cult of Luna, and Isis, but in reality they are simpler and not as musically busy as their more prominent peers. The riffs are more spacious and doomy, the shifts in tempo are slighter, and there’s less variation between the songs. Each track opens quietly before detonating into steady streams of riffs and shrieks, never progressing beyond a deliberate saunter, but each with moments of big sludgy riffs. The final track “Nowena 9.10” stands out in particular as it erupts from a quiet spoken intro to a shrill blast of blackened fury made all the more effective by the slow, trudging drums before it shifts quickly back to spacious notes and doom atmospheres.

Where Amenra nail it is in the oppressive atmosphere and the mountainous riffs. They keep the music spare where other bands seem intent on adding synth, piano, organ, and other instrumental detritus in the name of variety, or atmosphere, or possibly just plain old pretension. The straightforward approach has its downfalls, the songs are all rather similar and perhaps could use some more variation, but it’s also ultimately more satisfying. The riffs, highlighted by Billy Anderson’s production, get to shine and that’s what going to keep me coming back. Mass V provides a bludgeoning counterpoint to the ornate and progressive output of their highly lauded peers and a heavy handed reminder of the roots of the genre.

Nowhere Plans is the band’s first full length and was pieced together from four newly recorded songs and the previously released digital EP Forget English. Similar to Young Widows or a less spastic version of Swallow Your Teeth-era Catalyst, Ladder Devils take jangling bass-led noise rock and funnel it through the hardcore, indie rock and punk of their native scene. The bass grinds away driving the songs and the guitars are alternately used to throw a dissonant pall or a squalling sheen over the rhythm section that at times borders on psychedelic.

They pull off both approaches with aplomb and the darker, moodier tracks are notably excellent. The shouted vocals are performed in tandem by two members of the band, and despite the overt aggression in them, they capture a weariness that serves to enhance the wry lyrics and atmosphere of tracks like “Limited Too” and “Get OK”. Guitar noise is used to generously in subtle and aggressive ways, providing scorching abrasion on “I Have a Name” and ominous psychedelic clouds on “Limited Too” and “Pyramid”. At times they reach back and knock out some more straightforward and pounding noise rock, but the songs are more infectious and rocking and never match the violence of an Unsane or Fight Amp.

The record is a little uneven, which is understandable considering the way it was cobbled together. Only four songs are exclusive to this release and “Get OK” and “Leavers” were included in on both the 3-way split with Kowloon Walled City and Fight Amp and the Forget English EP. So if you’re already familiar with the band, it’s a fairly slim release. It’s a good introduction to the band though and an engaging take on noise rock in its own right.

Most of the album moves in that familiar nodding doom plod. “Aurora Atra” shambles along up til they break out a charging up tempo riff in the last half. “God Curse Us” moves about with a similar narcotic lurch that builds and breaks to a similar crescendo. “Masters of Nothing” breaks the doom doldrums in the latter half with a nasty groove that stands as the highlight of the album. After a short instrumental, they return with “Megiddo”, a track whose dynamics echo Electric Wizard’s “I, Witchfinder”. “Breaking the Lore” is the shortest song, coming in at just under five minutes, and gallops along like a mix of St Vitus’ “Angry Man” and Hymns of Blood and Thunderera Gates of Slumber. They close it out with “Den of Serpents”, which is another track of lumbering doom in the vein of “Megiddo”.

Before you know it its 56 minutes later and the album is over. It’s all very by-the-numbers, run-of-the-mill, by-the-book, what have you…  The break in the latter half of Masters of Nothing has a nice swinging groove but despite the nice burly production there’s not much else that catches the ear. It’s not bad and it’s good enough given the proper mood, but doom has become such a saturated genre that bands without a particular creative spark or energy are destined to be subsumed by the blob of bands with similar influences. Witchsorrow are a fundamentally talented bunch, but all God Curse Us leaves me with is a dull impression and a desire to hear them up their game.

This is a band that unashamedly wears their influences on their sleeve. Clutch, Cathedral, Trouble all get together for a jam along with the obvious Sabbath and southern rock influences and maybe a little Autopsy stirring in the background. While the music is primarily influenced by rough hewn heavy rock, the vocals of guitarist Henry McGinnis are firmly rooted in the grumbles of the death metal underground. He’s nearly a dead ringer for mid-nineties Chris Barnes. The production also takes a note from the murk of death metal and the band opts for a thin grimy guitar tone.

“Wizard Dust” opens with some nice grooves and McGinnis’ hoarse roar. The combination of roaring vocals and straight-up stoner riffs is a little strange at first, like listening to Clutch fronted by Chris Barnes, but after a few tunes it starts to click. The band mostly sticks to the Sabbath/Clutch/stoner jams (“John Wilkes Booth”, “75 Black Pontiac”, “On the Trail of Lewis Medlock”), but throw in some heavier doom riffs and death metal imagery. “Burning Daylight” lays down some particularly awesome crawly doom and “Decaying From Within” hews even closer to straight up death/doom.

The production is the weak link here though and may be the culprit behind the music clashing with the vocals. It’s a little thin overall and doesn’t have the booming depth these riffs are just asking for. The bass seems to be pushed back a little too far in the mix as well, but the music speaks for itself and Yellowtooth come up strong where it counts. Get the old heads together and crack a case of PBR for this one.

Fight Amp’s newest album of acerbic, gritty and seriously pissed noise rock in the classic mold of Unsane presents a powerful and singular vision of scorn and violence. Since paring down from four members to a three piece after the release of Manners and Praise, the remaining members have narrowed their musical focus. Relentless and uncompromising, this shit just drips contempt. The tone they strike, and hold for the duration of the album, is bleak and pessimistic, with all the driving intensity of a bulldozer. They throw in doses of the Melvins (“Creepy Kicks”), early Nirvana (“Fly Trap”), some sludge-style riff tweaking (“Should’ve Worn Black”), and a downright nasty riff that wouldn’t be out of place on a High on Fire record (the instrumental “Goner”). The resulting cocktail is a brusque and corrosive kick to the head.

This is some great stuff when the mood to clobber strikes and has become my go-to disc for angry driving and, alternately and much more safely, racing games. Fight Amp are proudly and unapologetically flying the flag of uncompromising noise rock grime. Between Birth Control, with its fist first aggression and compassion-free frontal assault, Ladder Devils full length, the insane new album from the Catalyst, and the upcoming Kowloon Walled City, 2012 has turned in to quite a year for good noisy rock.