So, rather than waste any more time talking about the checkered history of supergroups, the weight of expectations and the perils that come with trying to meet them – let’s get right to the chase.

Is this any good?

Well, the short answer is – sure. Of course there’s good to be found here. That’s too stacked a lineup of quality artists and musicians for the outcome to have turned completely sour. So, does this meet *DUN DUN DUN* expectations?

Well, the answer is, again, sure – inasmuch as, when you look at that collection of musicians and their combined resumes, the product they’ve put out here pretty much sounds about right. Indeed, you really do hear bits and pieces of all the different pieces coming together in a generally death metal-ish manner – the chaotic and tech-y “core” elements of The Red Chord and Job For A Cowboy, the brutal and hefty crunch of a Hatebreed attack, the creative, oddball quirks of Uncle Acid and Converge, and woven together with Jacob Bannon’s signature artistic lyricism.

There are a few truly inspired moments to be found here, for sure. After a brief intro “Decadence Dissolves” launches into a really neat, wobbly, almost surf-like riff over some death metal blasting that just sounds really cool. The all-out burst on “Return to Zero” really throttles you with brute-force trauma that would make any self-respecting metalhead grin. Everything here is certainly pulled off with the upmost competence…

… But, I’m struggling to love this thing, and part of it is just that nothing truly gets up there and stands out. I was listening to this album on my phone, and for the fun of it, I decided to just, at random, start skipping through tracks and skipping ahead to different parts of the songs, and it was a weirdly fluid experience. It never felt like I was for sure jumping from one song to the next. It’s not that the songwriting is lazy by any stretch, there just isn’t anything that necessarily has the spark you can find so easily on any of these guys’ past creative outputs.

I’m not calling this a flop by any means – there’s enough convincingly pulled off  Death or Malevolent Creation-inspired Floridian death metal sprinkled throughout to please the purists, and there’s certainly enough combined elements here to give any metalhead who lived through the various American “core” scenes of the mid-2000s a dose of warm nostalgia. And it’s not like these guys take advantage of their pedigree to overstay their welcome – this record comes in, hits you in the mouth, and gets out again just as quickly, and without a fuss. So in that regard, you could say this record pulled off what it was intended to… I guess? It’s fine.

Three years on and 18.61 comes into being. Conceived in just a weekend, every riff, scream, beat and moment sounds utterly painful, frantic and perversely unsettling. The seething, monstrous metallic hardcore they are known for is completely shelved in favour of a dryer, rawer sound, drawing more eclectic, alien influencing forces (particularly from the noise made by Steve Albini with Big Black).

Initially, the brevity and the twisted nature of the songs were a bit of a disappointment, especially in light of the recent efforts of fellow 90s legends Integrity and Starkweather. However, the frantic energy, gutsy humane honesty and seething venom that dripped from every second kept me having to hit play another time, trying to decipher the madness. It lead me (be it with patience) to realise that if a listener can understand one thing from this album, it’s that man, not machine should be the focal point of musical catharsis.

That alone, doesn’t guarantee great albums though.

To put it simply, 18.61 is not an easy album to approach, the twisted, broken riffs that form each piece seem to lack cohesion, groove, but more so, purpose, as if they are flailing about wildly without any real intent. To subscribe to this perception though would be a gross misunderstanding, as this is often not the case and because of the burning essence of the four humans that make this twenty three minute mantra nigh on impossible to simply dismiss and label the album as a failure. Take a piece like “Reduced,” which forces the players to take control of the contorting madness, pushing them to surge furiously with a gritty Black Flag vigour and locking into a thrashing, relentless rhythm. Its perfection, is its mangled way of playing, seemingly out of sync, it is anything but, and is rather a clever, deceiving construction.

“Fallen Angel,” has a similar modus operandi, but is colored with haunting, almost bluesy breaks and shimmering stabs of feedback before coalescing to drive it into the introductory syrupy crawl of “Mannequins.”Drummer Mike Justin (formerly of Unearth and then The Red Chord) then takes lead here, beating his kit savagely to pick up the pace sporadically before it reverts back to its drawling, soulful grind.

Somewhat expectedly, 108 shift the gears again, with the album’s closer “Early Funeral,” a ghosting dirge that feels akin to what Converge were doing on You Fail Me,  with “In Her Shadow,” and the overall atmosphere of that album as a whole. Unveiling itself slowly, it’s lead by vocalist Robert Fish’s solemn utterances, whilst being backed by gentle, folk like strumming. Joni Mitchell it isn’t, but rather a final humane raise of the middle finger from the band to the world.

As Deathwish have continued to show over the past seven to eight years, great music doesn’t need to follow tradition, and it doesn’t need to conform to genre limitations to be recognized and revered. 108 embody this spirit emphatically and whilst at first 18.61 can pass you by as a mangled mess of jumbled noise, seemingly unworthy of repeat spins, it does with time not only make more sense but becomes a potent reminder that the essence of the human spirit should not be buried in layers and layers of studio trickery.

Describing Starkweather is a tall task. While falling under the hardcore umbrella, their sound isn’t within the realms of any typical hardcore, though there are ties to the likes of Converge and Earth Crisis, with a darker, disturbing take on the genre. The seared heart of Starkweather is vocalist Rennie Resmini; his schizophrenic voice ranges from feral snarls, pained screams and a truly demented clean wails and croons. Throw in those vocals with some equally seething, lurching and off kilter riffs, and the result is truly disturbing and sickly.

Much like “Slither” opened Croatoan with a filthy fetid crawl, “Epiphany” delivers the same retching gait and oppressive, feedback laden lurch, setting the grim tone for the rest of the album. Where This Sheltering Night differs a little from Croatoan is the inclusion of several little ambient interludes between the full tracks; “Swarm”, “Transmit”, “Receive” and “Proliferate” provide haunting, delicate atmospherics between the long songs. And its good there are some breathers because songs like the almost 10 minute “Broken From Inside”, “All Creatures Damned and Divine (Inducing Motion Sickness)”, and “Martyring” are utterly draining. The festering riffs and psychotic vocal shifts make for an uneasy, nervous almost structure-less listen that has a tangible sense of dread and dementia that many bands, hardcore or otherwise simply can’t render.

Also on rare occasion (less than Croatoan), Starkweather deliver some clean but creepy moments of hideous beauty as highlighted in the otherwise gnarly lope of “One With Vermin” and “Bustari” where there’s injections of an almost flamenco undercurrent and some shimmery melodics beneath the bile hacking, fetid discordance.

As the album collapses with “Martyring” and aptly titled closing atmospheric “The End of All Things”, the listener will finally remember to breath and inhale deeply as if coming up for air after being submersed in water or being deep in a breathless dream. And not many bands can invoke that kind of physical reaction. Starkweather do it effortlessly and artistically.

That all changed when I pressed ‘play’.

Man, I haven’t enjoyed a non death/black metal, straight forward rock/metal album like this since SosoHuman’s Twenty Six back in 2007. I when I mean rock, I don’t mean commercial, poppy radio rock, this is still somewhat hardcore based and gritty, angry metal, but Doomriders have a sense of riff based prose that gives them a wider appeal, even with Newton’s gravelly Steve Von Till meets Glenn Danzig vocals. In truth, to me, Doomriders sound like what I imagined Mastodon to sound like after they signed with Warner Bros (just listen to opener “Heavy Lies the Crown” or “Mercy”) – twisting, moody alternative rock with a metal undercurrent – just without the weirdness and ego.

While alternative or rock is a broad brush stroke to describe the band, the 17 tracks that comprise Darkness Come Alive run the whole spectrum of genres and never settle into any sort of safe format or structure. From the aforementioned Mastodon-ish lurch of “Heavy Lies the Crown” through the rumbling acidity of “Bear Witness”, burly hardcore sneer of “Knife Wound”, the radio friendly, Foo Fighters-ish “Come Alive” (with just an epic climax), gruff catchiness of “Crooked Path” and personal favorite the rousing “Lions”, Darkness Comes Alive bristles and bursts with a balance of surly Stoner rock haze and groove, brooding metal, hardcore angst and a smart, mainstream affinity. Throw in Kurt Ballou’s expectedly gritty but clear production and you have a truly complete album.

A few rather needless interludes litter the album (“Fade From Black”, “Night Howler”, “Night Beckons”, and one untitled number) but they are so brief they serve as intros to the following songs rather than full fledged, but the album brims with so many great riffs and moments they pass by relatively unnoticed. Also, Ive heard/read Entombed/Death ‘n’ roll comparisons all over the internet, and while that may apply to the debut Black Thunder (which I have not heard), I can safely say I dont hear it here at all.

Darkness Come Alive is one of the more pleasant surprises of 2009 and as I search out 2005s Black Thunder debut, I can only hope I am as entertained.

More addictive.

That’s the aim for Pulling Teeth. Every time they come back they are that much more ugly, that much more putrid but, that much more intoxicating and tempting. Furthermore, with each release, everything just gets better, doomier, faster, of course uglier but paramount of course is the quality which is unsurprisingly high on their latest opus. Matching previous work Martyr Immortal in length, it exceeds in quality, in twists and surprises, utilizing the base elements that has founded their unholy racket since Vicious Skin.

Unfolding with the hellish “Ritual”, instantly it’s familiar yet unnerving as its never openly clear which way they are heading, you are not just a listener therefore but a helpless, vulnerable spectator, that’s unable to look away and quite frankly, doesn’t really desire to. The initial minutes of “Ritual” remind of prime Length of Time, all bludgeoning beats, eerie dirges and mangled, mumbling snippets of dialogue. Then they pull out a slowed down Slayer meets Sabbath monster riff that gently plods and pokes before the caustic holy terror mayhem kicks in.

Then you are back in familiar territory, express elevator straight to hell.

That’s how it remains until arriving at the closer, the turbulent, the traumatic “Paradise illusions”, equally parts folk nightmare massacre as it is again Sabbath doom dirge yet its all distinctly Pulling Teeth. Whatever they do, however they do it, it seems simple unthinkable that this band can secrete a bad note of music, conceive a half baked idea and perform with nothing less then 200% guts.

Much like label brethren Trap Them (oft believed to be of Swedish origin), Victim’s power lays in their earthy roar and their direct, fat free apocalyptic barrage that is built on the simplest of elements, i.e. rattling beats, pounding bass, stabbing riffs and, most importantly, raw, raw vox, frantically bellowed without respite. Unlike Trap Them, there appears to be no urge to push their sound forward into the 21st century, no, no, no, Victims seem content on raging as if it was 1989 against everything and everyone.

Prime evidence of Victims intent to not progress and implement more modern instruments to their barrage comes in the length of their compositions. Nothing tops three minutes on Killer, and why the hell should it? The point is to inflict as much destruction in as little time as possible and those crusty punks in the 80s did that sublimely in even less time. At first the minimalist approach can appear to wear thin and cause tracks to bleed into each other, but the more listens reveal a lot more depth, thought and construct then on those initial listens. Sly trickles of melody seep in throughout and again, only become apparent as familiarity grows with Killer, a particularly potent example being the smooth chords and breaks that breathe (or break out in fact) during “Breaking Out.”For the majority though, it’s about rage and pretty much any piece on the record will fulfil that need.

Victims may not be the most brutal, heavy, progressive or whatever adjective you want to tag to an artist but they are certainly one of the most honest stalking around these days, and that alone is something to admire.

Featuring Brian Izzi of US underrated black metal pioneers December Wolves (Completely Dehumanized remains a landmark album for me) and Ryan McKenney of hardcore stalwarts Backstabbers Inc, Trap Them, in their short but productive career (2 albums, 3 splits/Eps) have evolved into a simply punishing act that has evolved from their more crust and grindcore roots to a more developed and restrained act with a truly potent sound and delivery.

Continuing the “days” (though out of sequence) from their prior releases, Barren Praise tells ten fictional tales of the town Barren Praise and delivers them in mostly short bursts of crusty, virulent fury (“Day Twenty Eight: Targets”, “Day Twenty Nine: Reincarnation Of Lost Lones”, “Day Twenty Five: Guignol Serene”, blistering “Day Twenty Three: Invertopia/Day Thirty: Class Warmth” and “Day Twenty One: Roam/Day Twenty Two: Absent Civilian”) and moments of grooving, utterly pummeling lurches (“Day Nineteen: Fucking Viva”, mid section of “Day Twenty Six: Angles Anonymous In Transit”, “Day Twenty: Flesh & Below”, “Day Twenty Four: Gutterbomb Heaven On The Grid” and heaving, seven-minute closer “Day Thirtyone: Mission Convincers”), which cement the Entombed reference. Both styles rendered with a face ripping Kurt Ballou sound that comes across like Mieszko Talarczyk’s best work sent through Sunlight Studios, a gravel filter and 5 vials of meth. It reeks of the kind of energy, ferocity and mix of styles that The Red Chord once had on Fused Together in Revolving Doors.

I’m really glad Deathwish Inc. picked this band up and has released 2 efforts, though both leave me craving more. This is an American band kids and the media should be paying attention to rather than pandering to the likes of Job For a Cowboy and Suicide Silence and other such wigger metal bands.

Support real American noise-get this

The way they do it though is not blatant, in fact, its very, very subtle and its only with continued listens that the layers leads not only to the revealing of the band’s core influences but to how well they have harnessed and melded them together. In fact, melding isn’t the due word; this isn’t simply a case of taking two musical styles and crudely bludgeoning them together to create an ugly hybrid that gives away the foundations to their sound.

Take the storming title track, driven by an absolute rollicking groove, sumptuous lyrics and vocal phrasings it is accompanied here and there by an obtuse, alien element. A distorted, strangled voice that sounds as though its been processed through a broken turntable hollers ‘My life, my life, my life,’ before the band launches back into one of those crunching, floor clearing grooves.

Don’t worry, its not the kind of groove that was so prominent to the absolute horrible hordes of bands that crudely mixed rock (not metal or hardcore) and rap in the late 90s and early 2000s, nor is it the overly pumped, bottom ended destruction to be found by such floor clearers as Recon, Liferuiner and the Acacia Strain. No, it’s a classic crunch in the classic New York style, with just the right amount of bite and power to hit you right in the stomach and make you crave for more and more and more and which the band duly oblige to supply, tenfold in fact.

There have been a number of outstanding hardcore releases this year but none as bravely ambitious or as risqué as this one which attests that there is not only life in the rawest form of hardcore, but that there are plenty of unexplored plains to move forward into.

At one time featuring members of deathcore bruisers Embrace the End (there has been quite a line up shift since In Place Apart), Killing the Dream are a searing, contemporary hardcore act full of passion and emotion, rife with melody but also deliver their harmonic power chords with bite and spite that few modern hardcore acts can match. With a primal intensity matching their sense of rending harmony, as well as a grittier, denser J Robbins production, Killing the Dream deliver 12 short, sharp bursts of feral modern hardcore, that while could be compared to the likes of Comeback Kid and Bane, just comes across as so much more intense and visceral.

Part of that is vocalist Elijah Horner who screams like the bottom of his feet are on fire for the album’s shamefully brief, 23 minute duration. His vitriolic, passionate presence mixed with the frantic, chaotic yet somehow melodic guitars and virtually constant pressure and relentless pace and fury of the material make for a draining but rewarding hardcore album-you almost feel yourself finally taking a deep breath when closer “Resolution” comes to and end.

Tracks like “Part II (Motel Art)”, “Consequence (What Comes Next)”, “Everything But Everything”, “Hang The Jury”, “We Were”, “You’re All Welcome” careen out of the speakers with melodically blistering, tangible rage, while a few slower tracks like the title track, “Thirty Four Seconds”, “Holding the Claws” and the aforementioned closer, show a intensely introspective Killing the Dream who should now be regarded one of contemporary hardcore’s very top acts.

Shipwreck AD are pretty much perfect fit for the Deathwish roster. Their dirty, pounding hardcore is soaked in a plethora of influences (much like label mates Pulling teeth) but they manage to deftly organize these into a seamless wall of sound that is as emotional as it is visceral. ‘Lotus,’ duly demonstrates this unison of contrasting elements, weaving slithery riffs that twist and turn into seismic chugs and then back again.

‘Thaw,’ is another example of this, as the withered ghost of the Holy Terror hardcore sound (Integrity, Ringworm) is duly reinvigorated with crusty, driving riffs but is then rounded out with a slim melodic pulse. ‘Ascent’ is pulled in by a Neurosian intro before giving way to more howling vocals and apocalyptic chugs. Closer ‘Zenith,’ is as creepy as it is crushing with yet more Neurosis style atmospheric riffing brushing comfortably with those Holy Terror tendencies. It’s a fine ender to a gratifying record, and whilst it’s not the album’s highpoint it shows that there are plenty of unexplored waters for the band to charter.

‘Sick and tired,’ sees them grind it down a few notches and really focusing on the riffs they are devoutly peeling from their guitars. Once over, they swiftly revert back to speed for the next pair of tracks before hitting the awesome title track. Introduced by a classy riff, its smoky atmosphere ameliorates rather than asphyxiates as they grind, blast and swing seamlessly through almost 4 minutes of concentrated music. They leave the biggest surprise till last though with ‘Dismissed in time,’ a nightmarish, hellish trudge that is narrated by a grovely voice that echoes Tom Waits but more so the performance Andy Cairns of Therapy? pulled out on their horrible, horrible track from 1999 ‘God Kicks.’

Pulling teeth have made an excellent record here, that is formidably demonstrating their growth as musicians and song writers as there are so many twists, turns and surprises that simply wouldn’t have been possible with the band that wrote ‘Vicious Skin.’ If one nagging request was to be lodged (and this is above all, a personal preference and thus, can’t be called a criticism), I would like to see them flesh out more their faster material and bring more of their Integrity and Cleveland influences to the forefront.

However, that’s me being greedy for that classic hardcore sound that in spite of the number of bands now doing it, never seems to satisfy my appetite, so disregard that request Pulling teeth and keep following your own blackened, twisted path to oblivion.

Taking up where the debut LP left off, the 5 tracks that comprise their Deathwish debut, Seance Prime initially shows a groovier, more restrained side with the lengthier, lumbering dirty death and roll of opener “The Protest Hour” and “Pulse Mavens” (which could have come from Wolverine Blues). However, the third track, “Citizenihilist” reverts to the sudden, mid range ferocity of the debut with a ripping pace and guitar tone that would make Mieszko Talarczyk smile down on them. “Iconflict” slows things down again with an ominous, doomy crawl that lets the mid range buzz and hum with resonating menace. Again though, “Wafers and Wine of Sandblast Times” blows it all away in a sub two minute blast of seething Nasum worship. Vocalist Ryan Mckenny keeps things more modern with his pained shouts and screams more akin to their newer influences (Converge/ Pig Destroyer etc), but when backed by the killer guitar tone, there’s nothing core or modern about it.

This is essential, untapped US ferocity right here folks, not the pseudo kiddie caterwauling screamo-grind that the scene is spewing up in spades. Get this (and their debut).

Nice going Deathwish….

Trust me kids, this is good. Damn good, and it should elevate Killing The Dream into the hardcore elite as it does everything perfectly; The razor sharp production of Kurt Ballou, the truly rabid screams of vocalist Elijah Horner (Horner never lets up as his shredded larynx delivers spiteful and often meaningful diatribes of triumph and failure and loss), the blisteringly paced, soaring harmonies that verge on metalcore with Tourettes, the violent yet vibrant nature of the song structures. It all just comes together for a truly emotional record. This is what the painfully playful With Honor should sound like.

The start of “Rough Draft (An Explanation)” is almost a misleading lull compared to rest of the album’s continual intensity. Each of the 12 tracks is a short sharp, tear inducing jab to the face with no respite other than the eventual album ending comedown off “Four Years Too Late”. Free from forced hardcore machismo or overt metalcore woe, Killing the Dream’s riotous sound is of unbridled, old school hardcore intensity with just a pinch of metalcore’s sense of somber harmony. No fucking emo, no clean segues, no acoustics, no poppy structures, and no simplistic breakdowns; Just sheer fucking sonic wreckage. Of course, most of the tracks bleed into each other with a seamless sense of purpose but the restrained vigor of “Where the Heart Is” and the vitriolic chorus of “We’re All Dead Ends”, the dramatic opening of “Ante Up”, the sheer force of “Writer’s Block” stand out amid the sonorous chaos. All the tracks though, no matter how short and visceral contain delicate strums of harmony that give the abrasion some silver lining (esp. “Post Script”, “Sick of Sleeping”, “Past The Stars” and “39th % Glisan”). That being said, it’s too fucking short.

This is such a good, vein bursting hardcore record, it hurts and if Bane’s The Note let you down, this is the album to pick you back up. And then kick you in the balls.

Hailing from Connecticut and with one album, In the Eyes of the Lord under their belt courtesy of Goodlife Recordings, 100 Demons should not surprise with their style; angry, chugging, metallic hardcore. Hardly original, but done well enough to be in your collection if you are a fan of the style. The steely thrash tinged edge to their hardcore musings often reminded me of early Pro-Pain or Shadows Fall, controlled yet seething with under the skin rage and their veins bulging in their neck in self restraint ready to explode.

Not nearly as harsh as some of the genres harder acts (Built Upon Frustration, Premonitions of War), and with just a slight hint of melody, 100 Demons sound is finely crafted to appeal to all metal ilk, so long as they are pissed off. Of course, as with most fits of rage, it’s short lived, as the nine anthems clock in at around 3 minutes or under, that left this listener wanting more. The entire production is earthy and robust from the crunchy guitars to the Bruce LePage’s throaty roar, its all in line with anything you’ve come to expect from East Coat hardcore. However, Lepage’s vocals don’t seem to quite match the intensity of his scathing lyrics, and his few clean attempts don’t fit in with the general rage of the music (“Repeat Process”).

Guitarist Rick Brayall’s prior death metal experience is heard throughout the riffs, although prettied up with hardcore’s more commercial pacing, the general chug and soloing is rooted in early 90s death metal. My only gripe with the material its general ‘sameyness’, although a trait of the genre. I would like to have heard 100 Demons crank out a real pulse quickening stopping show stopper or complete behemoth of crushing noise. As it stands, “Dying In My Own Arms” treads Sick of it All/ Agnostic Front punk realms and potential gargantuan closer “Never Surrender Virtue” is too short lived despite its promising march. Other wise, the album treads the safe line with mid paced weightiness that lacks a real impact despite being enjoyable. “His Fathers Son” injects some promising melody and the aforementioned “Repeat Process” attempts some clean vocals, but overall the album’s deep religious theme is never quite conveyed by the standard chugga-chugga music. Not that it doesn’t make it enjoyable, the short burst of 100 Demons is perfect for that late night Taco Bell and beer run that requires some pounding, meaty tunes to get your head bobbing for a short period of time.

 I only wish the music itself fulfilled the promise of depth that the artwork and lyrical themes promises, rather than a standard hardcore fare. Well, there’s not much I can say about a 25 minute album. Short album, short review, rock on.