Where the traditional metal Black Sites plays needs to shine is in the guitar playing/solos and catchy refrains. There’s rarely innovation, so you must write quality songs. Fortunately, For Eternity kicks off with “When It Calls,” Martin employs cleans exclusively, and it’s not long before a catchy chorus hits. The dissonant picking on top of the chugging main riff gives the song a brooding feel, which becomes common throughout the rest of the album.

Honestly, it’s very difficult to pick out tracks to highlight because there are many remarkable ones. The last one, “Unanswered for Eternity,” would not be out of place in the “hair metal” heyday. The main riff is far from what I’d call heavy, at least in the traditional sense, but it allows the vocals to carry the track. It’s basically a ballad, although a seven-minute one. The instrumental section that ends near the five-minute mark is as brutal as it gets here, but it does lead the way into a darker guitar solo section. At over 40 minutes, it’s right at the sweet spot before I get bored.

Luckily, there are even better tracks before the end. I would rarely call an album “middle heavy,” but when the best tracks tend to be there, I think it applies. Take, for instance, tracks four and five: “Giving Up the Ghost,” and “Blades (For the Chosen Ones),” respectively. The former has a bass-heavy, driving riff. Of course it has a good hook, but so does the latter. This tune has far more of a bounce to it than “Giving Up the Ghost,” and one could argue that the chorus is better, but almost every one is a fist-pumper.

If you’ve been following along, congratulations, you’re literate, but you’ve also probably figured out this is the album that finally made Black Sites click for me. This is without a doubt the pinnacle of their recorded output. In my eyes, their previous work doesn’t measure up. When I heard those albums, I wasn’t quite over the loss of Trials, so it’s probably not a bad idea to go back and listen to them again. Maybe time has forgotten, or For Eternity just hit me at the right moment, but if they keep releasing heavy hitters, then I’ll continue to pay attention.

You should, too, especially because the new album is self-released. That’s always a strong indication of being in it for the right reasons, including their own artistic expression.

Last year’s A Dark Poem Part 1: The Shores of Melancholia was, in itself, an emotional roller-coaster, and on A Dark Poem Part 2: Sanguis, they take that somber pace and crank the depression to eleven.

From the get-go, we’re dropped into a relationship that’s falling or has already fallen apart. Anger and emotional distress take hold with “Sanguis (Blood Ties)” and the music perfectly matches. Punching the sky with some killer Hammond organ cranked out of its comfort zone. The opening lyrics “A house not a home, a heart made of stone… I survived you” fucking hell, that’s quite a statement, and it sets the tone quickly and succinctly. This is not a happy album.

A Dark Poem Part 2: Sanguis is a shorter album than Part 1. Clocking in at 37:14, it’s about ten minutes shorter. That’s not a bad thing, I’m just mentioning it in passing. I do think that the shorter run time lets the album stay focused and more to the point. So there’s that.

“Loneliness Untold, Loneliness Unfold” is depressing as fuck. Like, I’ve been in some shitty relationships, but the one happening within the barriers of A Dark Poem Part 2: Sanguis is imploding like the Titan submarine. The music is slow-burning and malicious, the lyrics drip with vitriol and resentment. A heartbreaking track if there ever was one.

“Sweet to the Point of Bitter” has an Arcturus vibe to it, interspersed with some epic Enslaved harmonies. The slow build at the 4:16 mark takes the song in a whole different direction; it takes on a life of its own. There’s not much in the way of blasting on this release like the last album. These are more restrained, more precise, and, dare I say, more brutal in terms of message.

“I am Time” gets up to some Enslaved-style melodies; it’s uplifting and gets the job done. “Fire in Ice” literally almost brought me to tears, and I’m not even ashamed about it. This is such a somber yet forceful attack. The music touches the soul in ways that few albums are able to hold a candle to. It’s a revelation of life after unbearable trauma. The worst break-up in musical history is played out with this killer track.

“Lunar Tale” is such a beautiful song. It’s a track about closures and regrets. The music is like a warm, comforting blanket. Unless some band puts out an album with nothing but people crying, it might be as impactful as A Dark Poem Part 2: Sanguis. Around 4:00 minutes in, the harmonies take your breath away.

Sporting a glorious production that makes you feel like you’re in the studio with the band, Green Carnation has achieved a masterpiece in the world of Metal, an incredibly emotional album that stays with you even after it has ended.

At the end of the day, Green Carnation has fully surpassed their previous albums in every way, shape, and form. This review has taken longer to write than I expected. Although I love this album, it’s so emotionally heavy-handed that it brought back memories for me that weren’t pleasant to think about. This is a DEPRESSING album. But maybe that’s what they were intending all along, and if so, they have most definitely succeeded because A Dark Poem Part 2: Sanguis is probably the most depressing album I’ve heard in a long time. Like, even DSBM is more uplifting than this… It’s where Green Carnation excel, though, and that’s why you need this album. We live in an apathetic society these days, maybe music such as this will remind us that we all share the same place when it comes to matters of the heart.

So yeah, this album sticks with you. I can still hear those riffs in my head while I sit here writing this. I’m not even sure of a ‘for fans of’ section because this is in a league of its own as far as I’m concerned. It doesn’t sound like anything I’ve heard before (at least that I can remember). My advice is that you go out and get this album post haste. Long live love!

As I was listening to A Dark Poem Part I: The Shores of Melancholia, I started to wonder why I never listened to Green Carnation before… this album is amazing. I don’t want to be premature (I mean, the year is almost over, yeah, no shit) but this might be AOTY material. I can feel confident in saying that; now anyway. That may change over the course of the rest of the year. But for now… this is the shit.

Keeping in mind that I listened to this record on continuous repeat, the songs washed over me like a rain storm lashing a verdant forest into a frenzy. Opening with the power of Black fucking Sabbath is “As Silence Took You” the lyrics carry significant emotion, and at the mid-track point, this fat assed riff just comes stomping in like it owns the place, with the rising keys behind it all… Jesus fucking Christ, this is how you open an album.

But that’s not it, that’s only seven minutes and eleven seconds of this 42:43-minute-long epic. There’s the huge Amorphis vibe throughout “In Your Paradise” and it’s just a jaw-dropping Nordic rock anthem; big and beautiful like a massive troll swinging trees at random shit.

So much great production went into A Dark Poem Part I: The Shores of Melancholia. Recorded at DUB Studios in Norway, this is epic in every sense of the word. “Me My Enemy” starts off deceptively mellow, sort of Opeth-ish, but then the chorus kicks in and it’s hitting you right in the feels. This is awesome. Pure bloody awesomeness.

“The Slave That You Are” is by far my favorite track on this crazy beast. It features Grutle Kjellson (Enslaved) on guest vocals, and it rips headlong into the blasting right away. Slowing down briefly before it erupts again into a flurry of blasts.

“The Shores of Melancholia” is another epic, ships on the horizon of a churning sea type of song. Soaring, triumphant; reaching the blackest heavens and beyond. It’s followed by the closing track “Too Close to the Flame” has this troll-sized chorus that makes me think of Einherjer and Enslaved, I fucking swear, Season of Mist is a label on fire lately, pumping out some killer releases this year.

It ends, and then you hit play again or just have it on repeat like this guy. A Dark Poem Part I: The Shores of Melancholia is a wonderful album experience. I highly recommend this for you lovers of Enslaved, Einherjer, and early Ulver (think Bergtatt and Nattens madrigal – Aatte hymne til ulven I manden era). A magical album of Norwegian power. So what are you waiting for? Go get it!

Which brings me to Agropelter. A multi-instrumentalist by the name of Kay Olsen grabbed a bunch of super talented musicians and formed a Prog-rock collective called Agropelter, and they are unleashing The Book of Hours to a salivating public.

Maybe not salivating, I could be exaggerating a tad, but people are always looking for something dynamic and brand new, and Agropelter is the band to bring that dynamic to the world.

First track “Flute of Peril” sets the stage with some isolated flute (shocker) before it gets going on a small Classical rumination, it starts to rise up on some soaring guitars and then “Levitator” takes control with the most 80s guitar tone ever, and it starts to swing like a stoned monkey on a jungle gym. It reminds me of Zombi and something Steve Vai would’ve written circa 1990. It’s spacey as fuck, and it starts off The Book of Hours with a bang.

“Burial Mound” has gorgeous classical guitar and an ethereal atmosphere that is absolutely reverential during it’s 3:23 minute existence.

It’s the four-part title track “The Book of Hours part 1”, “The Book of Hours part 2”, “The Book of Hours part 3”, and “The Book of Hours part 4″ where they shine. This is the real fucking deal right here. Part 1 is a mind-bending trip into overdrive, it’s warp speed without blasting and pinched harmonies for days. The first part runs at 11:07 minutes, veering into bombastic solo piano territory. Near the end it heads in this cosmic Jazz direction with some beautiful fretless bass. It ends on huge notes, millions of them.

“… Part 2” is a bit more mellow, the keyboards are more prevalent, and here is where the Harpsichord, synthesizers, and church organ (!) take center stage. There’s a sense of impending time and the persistence of memory, the instruments mimicking ticking clocks throughout.

Parts 3 & 4 are both somber and swinging. Agropelter pours it on with these last two tracks, soaring guitars and keyboards battle with Minimoogs for dominance.

It’s taken me some time to write this. I absorbed this album, and when I said that I needed this album, I sincerely mean that shit. I think I’ve covered more instrumental albums this year than in the past. I could attribute that to anything, but maybe it’s the climate of fear and uncertainty that we are living with.

Discourse aside, I wholeheartedly recommend The Book of Hours. Its complexity will undoubtedly appeal to you, fans of Hawkwind, Rush, Zombi, and King Crimson. Get it and be amazed.

OWDWYR is a technical death metal/grind/djent experimental metal trio (aided by a literal army of guest drummers for almost every track- including Kevin Paradis of Benighted and Kenny Grohowski of Imperial Triumphant) that utilizes classical and orchestral elements into its barrage of chaos. And not just piecemeal orchestration, but pulls actual arrangements from other artists and influences such Estonian composer Arvo Pärt, Brazillian composer Heitor Villa Lobos, 60s/70s British composer/guitarist Allan Holdsworth, and modern artists like New Jersey composer Brian Lawlor and even Radiohead.

Add those odd influences and arrangements into a spazzy early 00s grindcore/mathcore scene that imbues the likes of The Dillinger Escape Plan, Human Remains, Gaza, Ed Gein, The Red Chord, Between The Buried and Me, and newer bands like The Summoned, Journal and such. It is equal part genius, especially when the classical other influences are in play and equal parts utter chaos, that’s often a bit head-ache-inducing.

43 minutes, 15 songs, and only 5 feature the above outside arrangements, meaning the remaining 10 are much more pure spastic grinding chaos, which is done well and will appease fans of the aforementioned bands. Tracks like “Ripped From the Bog”, “Stench of Indemnity”,” “Writhe”, “Cower” (with its chaotic sax break)  and “Not Afraid” (with slightly out-of-place NYHC injections) are skronky, stammering, noisy, discordant and very ‘squeal-y’, but certainly technically proficient and skillfully played.

But tracks like “The Liminal Carapace”, “Lagos”, “Supplicant”, “Reverie” or the little piano ditty that starts “Ein” where those other oddball influences mentioned above or the addition of some homegrown, chaotic orchestration arise where OWDWYR border on something far more special and memorable.

My personal favorites (along with “The Liminal Carapace”) “A Vessel Emerges” (with Hath‘s Frank Albanes on vocals) and “Pitchtongue Vesper” could have come from any latter BTBAM album, and closer ‘The Sputtering Torch” is a further sign that bands flirtation with more movie score inspired and classical arrangements are their best element by far and hopefully further explored in future releases.

But here’s the thing – all my prior experience was working in the kitchen, on the line. To prepare for that, it felt totally appropriate to psych myself up with the most balls-to-the-wall shit I could throw on my car stereo on the way to work. For me, it was a steady rotation including the likes of Anaal Nathrakh, City-era Strapping Young Lad and Mike DiSalvo-era Cryptopsy (don’t come after me, DiSalvo’s Mack truck delivery was exactly what I needed for these occasions). But now? I’m working front-of-house, baby. I have to talk to and serve actual people, and not just the typical miscreant psychopaths that work in a kitchen (I say that with every bit of love and respect). I can’t come barreling in hopped up on Cephalic Carnage like a fucking lunatic. I can’t come across like an unhinged creep in the middle of his villain origin story. I have to smile! The problem is, I still need something to help give me that extra juice, while keeping me in a more positive, even tranquil and measured headspace. Something with the right focused energy to generate both adrenaline and serotonin.

As I’m sure you imagined, this all brings me here to this international amalgamation, Helga, and their brand of progressive, folk-inspired and (at the risk of generating automatic jeers) often post-pop-minded metal not totally unfamiliar to fans of acts like Sylvaine, Darkher, or even dark pop sirens like Kate Bush or Weyes Blood. Led by the extremely talented, charismatic voice of Swedish front woman Helga Gabriel, Wrapped in Mist offers the sort of thoughtful, engaging journey that dances the fine line between aggression and serenity, the earth-bound and ethereal with the balance and grace of a ballerina.

And it takes every bit of the ballerina’s flexibility and equilibrium to pull off an album as varied and adventurous as Wrapped in Mist plays out over its 10 tracks. No one song really fully encapsulates everything Helga are throwing at the listener, every passage seeming to possess its own distinct character. One the one hand, you have tracks like opener “Skogen mumlar” and “Mountain Song” that really lean in to Neofolk territory, the first culling directly from Helga Gabriel’s Swedish heritage (she being from a culturally distinct region known as Dalarna) – deploying everything from Swedish language lyrics and heavily folk-based vocal patterns, to the use of vaguely tribal hand-clapped rhythms and violin melodies to paint an epic, building picture of remote beauty and mysticism. You can absolutely picture the snow-capped mountains and pine-blanketed forests at the heart of the rhythmic drums and riffs that are majestic, and yet carry a palpable, surging energy that practically swells in your chest.

But with those more uplifting moments also come the more haunting. The mournful “If Death Comes Now” could be a B-side offering from Ethel Cain‘s Preacher’s Daughter, filled with the same sort of intoxicating beauty that intrigues, but plagued with the same feeling of inevitable doom that keeps you grounded and introspective. Perhaps a bit oddly, “Alive Again” carries the same sort of weight, choosing again to let the listener wallow in a darkened corner alone with their thoughts, building to a bit of a lighter crescendo, but nonetheless erring on the lighter side of mystery and wonderment. On the flip side – you have the bright and airy “Vast and Wild,” which somehow culls both from the schools of Alcest and Les Discretes, with the much greater pop sensibilities of Sinead O’Conner and Tori Amos, Somehow both ProgPower and Lilith Fair all wrapped up into one. It’s a breath of fresh air that will have you picturing lush forests sunshine on a warm summer’s day, which is – frankly, pretty invigorating! I feel me mood becoming lighter by the second. It’s nice.

But while all of this ought to be more than enough to intrigue any music fan, I understand the average headbanger might need something a little closer to their comfort zone, and while Helga isn’t likely to over-work your neck muscles, they aren’t without a bit of venom. The band, and in particular Gabriel herself, flash their teeth on more blackened stretches like on the tortured screams of “Farväl” and  “Som en trumma,” which lean into the sort of Post-Blackened attack you may not be terribly surprised to find in an offering such as this. They hardly carry the day, but they do a nice job of keeping the listener on edge, ready for whatever other evil may still be lurking around the bend if you’re not too careful.

There’s a refreshing quality about the Wrapped in Mist experience that may not necessarily bowl you over like listening to Cryptopsy’s “We Bleed” on your second chugged Red Bull, but for an album not shy about  taking some meandering paths along the way, it’s delivered with clarity, focus and purpose – an inexplicable drive capable of boosting your internal batteries while helping you stay lucid and in-the-moment. Sure, you could make an argument that Helga could benefit from straightening out some of the gnarled paths en route to their end goal, but for a debut effort, I’m left wholly impressed and eager to see where this young act journeys next. I’ll tell you one thing, if you come to my restaurant and I haven’t thrown your food in your face or shown utter disdain for your food ordering decisions, you can thank the likes of Helga for keeping me in line.

Of course, the hunt was on, and I found myself soon owning the albums they had at the time and enjoying them thoroughly. What I didn’t at first know is that they’re labeled Christian progressive power metal. Sometimes it’s overt, and most of the time it isn’t, but it’s creator Matt Smith’s music and his focus is on making brilliant songs.

Maybe it’s because I just (unashamedly) saw Bullet for My Valentine live recently, but the beginning of the first track, “Flicker,”  sounds like something a screamo/metalcore band like them would do in the intro. There’s nothing wrong with it, but it doesn’t properly set the stage. This is one of the shorter songs, but has a killer hook and power metal gallop. Of course, the solo is also majestic.

Matt is quite the riff… Smith. He proves it with the heavier opening to “Sinsidious (The Dogs of War). It’s not death metal, but that might only be because of the cleaner tone. Power metal thrives on choruses and battle scenes ending in triumph, but also the ability to make a statement. In the lyrics, Theocracy does exactly that and I’m happy they have. Slightly over 4 minutes into the track, a groove, calling back to the opening riff comes in, which segues into an epic solo.

If you want your ballad, it comes in the form of “The Greatest Hope.” Some may call it a palate cleanser as it serves very little purpose other than a reprieve, but it’s certainly no throwaway.

The last track is what makes this album’s runtime so long, as it’s over 19 minutes.  Is it a good song? Yes. Should it be 19 minutes? You know that answer. While there are some excellent moments, it often comes off as meandering. It must be said. It doesn’t take away from the overall, but I would expect some to skip it.

As soon as I saw the runtime on this at over 1 hour, I knew I’d probably complain. However, I have no issue. As someone who jokingly refers to himself as a writer, it pleases me to be able to bring new music to others or show some bands about which I’ve known and think the rest of the community should. Theocracy is one of those bands, and I would say Mosaic is a great place to start if you’re into the style. This is another stellar entry into their catalog, which deserves to be held in much higher esteem when the best current power metal bands are ranked.

In truth, it’s all-too-easy for me to use any number of outside excuses to explain my growing resentment towards the world in general (one that seems hellbent on making existence for almost everyone harder and harder by the day) but ultimately, I also have to keep myself accountable. What am I doing to bring more joy to my life? How can I create a future self that I don’t already loathe?

Well, to start – maybe take a cue from Montreal’s Sanguine Glacialis, who seem to be having a blast defying norms and setting their own course in the world of metal.

This is my first foray into the world of Sanguine Glacialis, but straight-away a few things become clear. First, the band’s roots in Montreal’s unique Epic Metal scene show themselves almost immediately. This isn’t meant to draw exact comparisons, but their mix of soaring Melodic Death Metal, epic symphonic orchestrations and sprawling, picture-painting progressive tendencies certainly fall in line with the likes of Blackguard, Karkaos, and the technical weirdness of Quo Vadis. This is all mixed with the drama and pantomime of Fleshgod Apocalypse, Nekrogoblikon or Carach Angren that make Maladaptive Daydreaming a thoroughly engaging, highly entertaining listen. Tracks like “Immuration” or the especially playful “Resilience” make you feel as though you’ve stumbled into the world’s most demented, mind-bending circus after downing a few shots of ayahuasca, where every step further feels like another connection severed from the grips of sense and sanity.

Second, while every member of this outfit deserves their fair share of credit for creating this magnum opus, you can’t help but be especially in awe of vocalist and keyboardist Maude Théberge, whose angelic soprano is at constant battle with her demonic alter-ego, unleashing an impressive array of hell-born shrieks, screams and growls at a moment’s notice. Her ability to deftly bounce back and forth between moments of grace, grandeur and ghastly horror only further paint a picture of onset madness and inner quarreling. If you’re like me, unfamiliar with the band’s prior work, prepare to be hit square in the chest with her first terrifying screams on “Welcome,” which catch you totally off guard after a beautiful, soaring intro sets you up for a much different kind of experience. Follow-up “Immuration” only further cements her depth of talent, particularly in the song’s final 30 seconds where, after impressing with complex, operatic singing through most of the song’s duration, she unleashes some truly breath-taking screams that feel as though she’s reached even further into the nine circles of hell to create. I’m not just impressed, I’m a little scared! In the best way.

My fear only grows deeper with “Paracusia,” which sees Théberge storming out the gate with full-fledged ferocity, taking an extremely aggressive approach with her vocals that match the intensity of the song’s first movement beautifully. After a brief break, the band returns with more Parisian, circus-like music mixed with her serene cleans, as if she’s finally snapped and finds herself lost in a maelstrom of lunacy, fully embracing her own manic state as she deploys a dual-vocal attack of cleans and screams that all but tear the fabric of reality apart. There’s an undeniable darkness always bubbling underneath the surface, and yet the vibrancy in the band’s delivery still manages to inspire joy, putting a grin on your face with every hairpin turn.

As if her vocals weren’t enough to demand your attention, it’s also her well-balanced synth/piano work that really sets the entire scene of Maladaptive Daydreaming. It pulls off a clever trick of not being overbearing, while also making it difficult to image what this album might sound like without them – a perfect compliment to the chaos that help make what is a very emotionally-charged record, somehow bright and vibrant. That’s certainly not to suggest this record would be lost without that element – the rest of the band, including guitarists Jonathan Fontaine and Alexandre Lépine, along with bassist Marc Gervais and drummer Jérémy Racine, all turn in performances that would please fans hungry for the sheer technicality of Ne Obliviscaris or Cynic, or the earworm melodic brilliance of Be’Lakor or Kalmah. They can get downright brutal, too – with “Ars Moriendi,” closer “Resignation,” and plenty of others showcasing moments of utter heft ready to put your stank face on full display. The band’s ability to perfectly balance all the ideas bouncing around in their collective hive mind has the sort of artists’ touch that create a wholly cohesive, yet incredibly layered picture, not unlike the best works of art that can inspire different thoughts and emotions every time you see them.

I really, really dig what Sanguine Glacialis is offering with Maladaptive Daydreaming. The sense of whimsy and wonder, coupled with a very real sense of dread and foreboding under the surface, it all feels like the sort of balance I’d really like to find in my own life, because if I’m being truly honest with myself – the darkness in my life probably ain’t ever going away. Not completely. It’s as much a part of me as any physical trait. That said, it doesn’t have to be the definition of me, or some inescapable conclusion I’m fated to reach, and discovering an album like this only helps to steel my resolve not to let misery become my destiny. Life is short, and it seems Sanguine Glacialis isn’t wasting any of their time trying to follow anyone’s idea of what metal can or should be, and the end result on Maladaptive Daydreaming should carry them to brand new heights. Make this album part of your life pronto.

Luckily, being spring in the North, reality snapped back into place and it’s been rainy and in the 40s all week since. But I know that heat won’t stay away forever – soon enough stretches of 80… 90… 100 degree days will be the rule, and I’m already sweating just thinking about it. So thank the gods, ever-dependable Finland has sent me exactly what I need to stay in the kind of cold, barren headspace I need to keep my cool when mother nature is trying to murder me – the kind of Doom-drenched, moody and atmospheric Melodeath/Folk that only the Finns can pull off with this kind of perfection and flair. Vorna doesn’t know it, but they may have just staved off my inevitable “death by summer,” even if only for one more year.

That said, Vorna does seem to continuing an effort to add more light to their sound. For one, the band has continued to make vocalist Vesa Salovaara’s excellent clean vocals a more prominent feature – a trend started on 2019’s criminally under-the-rader Sateet Palata Saavat. Even despite my complete ignorance of the Finnish language, the vocal melodies he weaves on tracks like opener “Hiljaisuus ei Kesta” or the really well-balanced “Aika Pakenee”  are no less effective at getting stitched right into your brain until you’re absently humming along youself. The effect gives the band an overall much more grandiose, progressive feel not unlike that of a modern-era Borknagar or Enslaved record, though delivered in a tighter, more concise way (unlike their Norse counterparts, a Vorna track rarely ever breaks the 6-minute mark). Also like those two bands, Vorna continues to move a bit further away from their formerly more blackened-selves and, again, really is settling into that nice Viking/Progressive groove that balances beauty and brutality so well – and in fact after listening to this album through, it’s not difficult to assume they’re real big fans of just about everything in the Borkna-verse, with plenty of moments bringing to mind the likes of Arcturus, Vintersorg, ICS Vortex, etc. etc, though all still wrapped in a distinctly sort of gloomy, doomy Finnish quality that makes the band sound all their own.

Despite what I’d describe as the band having a very pretty and evocative sound, they’re still more than capable of getting your head banging, too. The previously-mentioned “Aika Pakenee” (if you can’t tell, this is one of my favorite tracks on the record) has a brilliant stretch on the back-half of the song where guitarists Arttu Jarvisalo and Henri Lammintausta really lay down a hefty, chugging riff paired with Salovaara’s harsh screams and drummer Mikael Vanninen’s almost militaristic drums that should have no problem giving your subwoofer a good rumble. The heft is made even more majestic with the pairing of keyboardist Saku Myyrylainen’s beautiful pianos and choir tone keys that just make the whole thing sound absolutely massive.

That’s only one of many such examples found throughout  Aamunkoi, with “Raja” providing yet another bruising sort of breakdown that sounds every bit as bombastic and heroic, before the band once again shows off their duality by following up with a delightful vocal line over rhythmic drums, bringing a sense of calm and serenity like the eerie silence after a storm.

I also really love how willing the band continues to be to push their own boundaries and experiment a bit, in particular I love some of the different tones used on the keys, like on “Harve Paattaa Hyvasteistaan,” that give the track an almost otherworldly sound, like some alien life is telepathically attempting communication (probably to make sure we don’t shoot them).  It almost feels like it’s bringing the album’s striking cover to life, bringing the weird, sprouting humanoid into the waking world to creep the ever loving fuck out of me for real.

Again, the keys give a real sense of unique atmosphere on follow-up “Valo,” using a nice mix of eerie tones, epic choirs and beautiful pianos to paint quite a vivid picture, and while every member of the band is delivering an impressive performance – it’s Myyrlainen’s work that really pushes Vorna onto another level here. But the band as a whole having pretty much all been together since the band’s inception really show in their overall cohesiveness. The keys elevate the whole product, but it’s only because they’re so in sync with everything else. This is a band obviously very confident and clear about who they are and how to play off one-another, and the results are clearly better for it.

So while Vorna aren’t exactly delivering the ice-cold, barren earth chill of a Scandinavian winter (in fact, the overall tone of Aamunkoi is quite, dare I say, hopeful?), there’s still a sort of undeniable chill in the air that makes this album a refreshing, and thoroughly enjoyable experience. It’s the kind of album that can endear itself to you, thrill you, make you contemplate your life and surroundings, and yes, it can make you puff out your chest and bang your head in it’s grandness. Enslaved may get the bulk of attention for this kind of product this year, but make no mistake, Vorna is more than deserving of your attention, and Aamunkoi is nothing short of superb.

when I first laid eyes on Zeke Sky‘s Intergalactic Demon King, I thought for sure I knew what I was getting into, and i was all about it. Looking at that logo, my mind immediately went to traditional, Manilla Road-loving Heavy Metal (yes, please!). Then I saw the whole album cover and… MY GOD that album cover! Keeping score, we’ve got a fire lion, we’ve got a herd of fire demon… skull goats? Gnarly. Then there’s our hero up top all swole-out and ripping away on his guitar. And there’s a burning grand piano? For, uh, reasons? Oh and it’s all in space, obviously. Duh. The point is, I thought I knew exactly what I was getting myself into, and I was all-in to take this puppy for a ride.

Friends, this is something else entirely. There is… SO MUCH going on here. And it’s all rad as hell.

So this being 2022, Zeke Sky (guitarist, vocalist and full composer of everything going on aside from drums on Intergalactic Space Demon) got his foot in the door of the music biz on, where else, Youtube. This is not to disparage him or Youtube musicians/entertainers in any way shape or form, it just means that inevitably, I haven’t heard of him until right now. As it turns out, he is the living version of the swole-as-hell dude on the album’s cover, which makes me wonder just when the hell he finds the time of day to hit the gym as religiously as he obviously does, while becoming such a damn virtuoso on the guitar and amazing composer. I can barely find the time to function as an adult.

In the interest of attempting to find a category to throw Zeke Sky into, I suppose you could call it… Progressive Power Djent? Or Progressive MeloDjent? Imagine Devin Townsend, Blackguard, Protest the Hero, Periphery and, like, a smidge of Unleash the Archers coming together in a sort intergalactic super force of all things epic and righteous. If I didn’t know any better I’d swear he was part of the epic Canadian Metal scene but, alas he’s from Philadelphia. Regardless, this dude can SHRED. After setting the table on the multilayered, picture-painting “Overture,” my dude immediately breaks out the big guns with “On the Tip of the Tongue,” starting with a fantastic, cascading piano intro that brings to mind everyone from Meatloaf, to Celine Dion (stop laughing THIS IS SERIOUS), to Yes. That sort of Prog-mindedness certainly takes center stage, with layers of guitars, vocals and overlaying synths taking you on a journey with a decidedly metal back bone that balances everything out with an appreciated dose of heft. And while at no point during the proceedings would one doubt the man’s musical chops, the minute he busts out his first epic solo, you know we’re dealing with something REAL serious here.

But before you think this is gonna be an all-out noodle fest, “Light the Sky” comes in guns blazing with a ferocious, breakneck riff that has you feeling like you’re in a shuttle launch getting ready for an atmospheric breach. Midway through though, everything shuts down and gives way to a neat little atmospheric break led by a… theremin, maybe? It’s a nice little reminder that this album is certainly going to continue taking you on a bit of a journey, even if Zeke Sky decides to bust out the heavy shit – such as in the case on the follow-up title track, which very much gives a whole lot of those Protest the Hero vibes right from the first note – intricate, busy fretwork on full display, backed by a bruiser of a riff and some pounding, bombastic drum work that balances it all out really nicely. Even on “Level the Heights,” perhaps the album’s heaviest track (it even boasts a nasty little Lamb of God-inspired breakdown halfway through), Zeke Sky keeps his progressive tendencies well in-play, deftly transitioning from the aforementioned LOG-like heft to bust out a lengthy, expertly tapped solo that’s more Satriani than Slayer.

After a stretch of heavier tracks lasting through “Light in the Hollow,” the album starts to turn back towards a more Progressive, Heavy Metal flavor. Intrumental “Firewitch Forever” features an incredibly fun riff that brings to mind everyone from Deep Purple to Iron Maiden, capped off with Sky’s most ostentatious, self-indulgent soloing on the album which may sound like a dig, but I assure you it’s epic and righteous and very much necessary. “Faith and Sorrow” may have a foundation built on a super crunchy riff, but it’s the extra accents that make the song special – the all-too-brief organ hits (I KEEP TELLING EVERYONE, USE MORE ORGANS), the brilliant leads, the spacey backing vocals, it all creates a vivid fever dream of a picture that I want to soak myself in and return to again and again.

Zeke Sky is a brilliant musician who has effectively made one hell of a proper entrance into the world of Heavy Metal. Hype has already begun to build in spades and, to these ears, it’s all well-deserved. Intergalactic Demon King is a joyous, twisting ride that should appeal to a wide range of metalheads, and I suspect its accolades are only just starting to pile up. Check this out pronto.

Last year I reviewed the reissue of the classic debut Hammers of Misfortune album – The Bastard.  I have enjoyed their progressive brand of metal that is quite eclectic, mixing in styles ranging from Manilla Road, Fates Warning, Omen, 70’s prog rock metal to more extreme forms of death and thrash metal.  Somehow their conglomeration of all these metal forms cohesively combine to create an interesting and fascinating listening experience.

The band has been on hiatus for quite some time and their last album was the excellent Dead Revolution from 2016.  This album seemingly dropped out of nowhere as it was not something I had read about until the promo dropped and plopped into my lap. Mainman, John Cobbett [guitar/vox] sees him revamping the line-up and I would imagine with members spread out around the country this was partially the reason for the delay in new material.  Sigrid Sheie returns on keys/vocals and Jamie Myers returns to the fold, after a 16 year hiatus from HOM.  Bring in former Vektor drummer Blake Anderson and well…since I love his work in Vektor I knew that HOM would probably increase the speed on the album, based on his skill set and they sure as shit did.  Frank Chin, formerly of Vektor lays bass guitar down as well.

The title track opens without warning into chaotic and fast drum beats and keyboards all over the place.  Having both female vocalists singing on the opening track, along the keys and faster paced material, mixed with space sounds brings full circle all the weirdness that is HOM, front and center.  The song is quite catchy and with the brutality increased and the massive amounts of keys, this has some Nocturnus influence, which I very much enjoy.

“Dark Brennius” starts with some ghoulish Transylvanian stylized keys before the isolated guitar riff erupts and the song gallops with John Cobbett’s unique and amazing vocal delivery.  The drum work is quite beastly with tremendous double bass, as well as some striking drum rolls, especially early on.  John whips into a frenzied guitar solo, and the ethereal slower key moments where just vocals and keys are heard, before the rest of the music ignites, is one of the many reasons why I find HOM so mesmerizing.

“Ghost Hearts” begins atmospherically with female vocals over the guitar soloing and then the song erupts into a super-fast thrashing metal madness speed with varied vocals.  The song is catchy and creative, as well as chaotic and yes- HOM are a non-linear band.  For some, they may require repeated listens, due to the sheer abundance of musical ideas smacking you upside the head, all at once.  This is a good song with tons of ideas, and some cool bass plucking, and guitar solos taking you by the throat and punishing you from one side of the planet to the next.

“Aggressive Perfection” closes out the album and at over six minutes is the longest track on the album.  The song opens with a direction where I am like, ok where is this going?  It’s slow and brooding, something the band is indeed known for.  It seems a bit disjointed, though.  The song picks up speed and there are some killer slow downs with a variety of vocals tones.  Interesting song, but this song is really out there, in space and beyond.

Overtaker is a good Hammers of Misfortune album, but some of the tracks do not resonate with me, for instance the last song.  There are a few other instances on the album where the songs are not really catchy and missing from the album are the unique and fantastical vocals of John Cobbett.  The vocals are pretty much left to Sigrid and Jamie and while both are great, John’s vocals are what helps create catchier vocal patterns and I really miss his vocals on this new album.  I wonder if his vocals had been more prevalent on this release how the album would have maybe resonated with me more?

The music has been recorded over a period of four years and I also wonder, had the album been recorded within a year, it may have gelled better.  The production is great – and captures the unique musical patterns of Hammers of Misfortune and the musicianship is pretty darn good to boot. The album cover, looks to me like an upside down dragon head??  I don’t know what the hell is going on.  Good album, I was just expecting more.

That same guy also just retired after a 35-year career with his company. So maybe he’s full of shit.

For their part, Amorphis has been around for 32 years now – though that 32 years could certainly be sliced up (like any band who’s been around that long) into different eras. A certain section of fans will tell you the band stopped existing after their first two records, The Karelian Isthmus and Tales from the Thousand Lakes, both featuring a more straightforward Death Metal approach than the more Progressive leanings the band would later become known for. From there, the band started integrating more clean vocals, taking more creative risks, doing the kinds of things that can tend to make lots of metal fans uncomfortable, and others giddy with joy. Depending on who you ask, the band may have either peaked with the more adventurous Elegy and Tuonela, or they marked the beginning of the band’s downward slide into weak-ass, noodling non-brutality (not my words, I’m just passing along others’ concerns).

For the sake of time, we’ll skip ahead to 2005, when long-time lead singer Pasi Koskinen was replaced by Tomi Joutsen, the man who still holds the position to this day, and one of my personal favorite metal vocalists of all-time. I guess that sorta gives away how I feel about Joutsen-era Amorphis, who since has grown into one of the world’s finest, most consistent metal acts. Their run of quality-to-incredible albums from 2006’s Eclipse, to 2018’s Queen of Time is a feat most fans could only dream of. That said, after 12 years featuring more-or-less the same lineup, it’s fair to say of late that the band has fallen into a little bit of a lane. An impeccably performed and composed lane, but let’s just say that by now you probably have a pretty clear idea of what new Amorphis material is gonna sound like – from Esa Holopainen’s gorgeous melodies to Joutsen’s signature mastery over beautiful crooning and bellowing gutturals alike, to Santeri Kallio’s whimsical keyboard interplay with the guitars, there’s a definite base recipe the band has been following for some time now.

Halo, to be frank, ain’t straying from the cookbook. Granted, that this is the final chapter in a trilogy of connected albums, maybe this shouldn’t be all that surprising – but Amorphis is hardly the first band to put together multiple interconnected albums, and many others have pulled off the feat while making each album have its own distinct character. Instead, Halo takes the same trends you found on Under the Red Cloud and Queen of Time and essentially turns them back around again with different arrangements; an expertly crafted blend of darkness and light, a continued emphasis on the progressive end of their sound while straying from the folkier elements found more prevalently on Skyforger and The Beginning of Times, and the band’s continued liberal use of Middle Eastern-inspired guitar and string elements and ethereal female vocal accents, making you feel as though you’re receiving sage guidance from a drugged-up oracle (look no further than first single “The Moon” to hear what I’m on about).

So was my colleague right after all? Is it time for a change?

There’s one major flaw to that line of thinking: Halo may not be especially unique or original in its overall presentation, but to call it “uninspired” seems terribly short-sighted. Its lack of new approaches can very easily be forgotten by the fact that this is a band still performing at an extremely high level. I apologize for making a sports reference to those of you smart, healthy individuals who find more useful ways to occupy their precious time (I am not one of those people), but at this point, Amorphis is very much like the Kansas City Chiefs: Immensely talented, let by two absolute geniuses at what they do (Tomi Joutsen is Patrick Mahomes and Esa Holopainen is Andy Reid in this comparison), but for 4 years now they’ve pretty much been doing the same shit. Does that make watching them any less exciting? Fuck no. They’re still one of the greatest shows on turf every time they hit the field, and while they may not be winning Super Bowls EVERY year, they’re always on the cusp of absolute greatness. Compare that with Amorphis and Halo; and the similarities become more clear.

The chugging verses or album opener “Northwoods” may indeed very similar to Queen… opener “The Bee,” but who cares? It still sounds frigging great. I still want the gorgeous leads and bouncy energy of “On the Dark Water”. I still want the endless stream of memorable, beautiful hooks and chorus like those of “The Wolf” and “War” that demand your attention and have you singing along in just a couple spins, the latter appropriately providing a level of seething aggression towards the end of the track that slaps with uncharacteristic venom. And is there room in my life for yet MORE of Esa Holopainen’s seemingly endless well of gorgeous guitar work?  Why yes, there is. Load up my plate with that familiar comfort and I’ll continue to go to town on it.

The band even manages to provide listeners with a track that is certainly among its best ever with “Where Seven Roads Come Together.” It’s a relentless, epic track that once again shows the seemingly symbiotic relationship this band has between its guitars and Santeri Kallio’s keys. The breakdown at the 4-minute mark that ushers in some of the band’s most cinematic vocal accents to date will put chills in your spine and raise the hairs on your arms with it’s grandiose glory. If it’s “inspiration” you’re looking for, you can’t find a finer example than this to prove the band isn’t sleepwalking through the process. Maybe I’m wrong – maybe Holopainen and fellow guitarist Tomi Koivusaari can just whip out dazzling leads and high energy riffs like these without even thinking about it – but one listen to the rousing “On the Dark Waters” or the ear worm of their first single “The Moon” makes it very hard for me to believe that this could be a mailed-in effort. They know what works, and they’re deploying every weapon at their disposal to continue their run of mastery at their craft.

Look, I applaud every band with longevity equal to Amorphis who are continuing to push their own boundaries and find new ways to add to their sound. It’s a noble pursuit. That said, there are some things, in their consistency, that just work. AC/DC have pretty much been playing the same beat since 1973, and most people aren’t raising a big stink about it. Similarly, the brand of progressive, melodic, high-quality metal that Amorphis have been delivering now for a truly impressive stretch of time continues to just feel right.

In 2022, they’re still pretty much the gold standard for what they do, and for a band that’s been at it for over 30 years, you can’t help but continue to admire the persistence. Amorphis are still Amorphis, and for me, that’s still plenty of reason to celebrate this latest offering.

“The Dragon is Summoned” starts with a power metally speed, nice double bass and powerful female vocals. At a little over 2 minutes, the song is epic. The speed, melodies. Incredible. “The Bastard Sapling” starts with great vocals. I’m not sure what dude is singing, but I’d imagine it’s the original member John Cobbett who also plays guitar. He begins the song with emotive vocals over acoustic guitars. Very catchy tones in his vocals. Then the metal comes in with great vocal harmonies. I’m still unsure how this band does epic songs in like 2 and a half minutes but they manage and pull it off with ease. Double bass comes thundering in and then the song slows down some more with a terrific lead guitar riff. Then female vocals, accompanying the acoustic moments, erupt without a break on the next track “On Wings of Vengeance”. Power metal speeds and then John starts to sing. His vocals do sound like vintage Mark Shelton (RIP) from Manilla Road. They’re weird, and original, and they just plain fucking rule.  This song gets into some speed metal moments as well.

The song seamlessly goes into “The Hunting Tyrant”. It’s a great song with John’s eclectic vocals and then I believe the other guitarist Mike comes in and he has raspy vox. A little black metally if you will. They took me by surprise.  “An Oath Sworn in Hell” breaks up all the 2-minute songs as this is close to 7 minutes and the dueling male and female vocal harmonies are emotive, catchy and I cannot get enough of this song. Excellent dual vocals over the speedy double bass moments. Metal is then mixed with acoustic guitars as the song settles down to an atmospheric show gazey part. Sounds like a flute in the background and this song is perfect. Epic, metal, heavy, progressive, atmospheric, and highly original.  Beast of a song.

“Sacrifice / The End” finishes the album at close to 9 minutes. Excellent thumping bass and rhythm section to open the song with the haunting female vocals then a speed metal moment. Nice and fast.  The song abruptly, and I mean abruptly, shifts gears slowing down in the process. Then female vocals, raspy vocals return and some killer guitar riffs. The 3.25 speed part rules. Throw up dem horns. The song gets into a vicious mid-paced moment with double bass and John’s vocals sounding killer and then a ripping speed part comes in that almost is blast beat speed, I kid you not! Excellent guitars continuing with phase shifter effects which transport you to the Crab Nebula fairly quickly.

The Bastard has a great remastered sound. Powerful and crisp.  Perfect sound. I’d never heard of this band before and after getting this reissue I proceeded to get the back catalog of all of Hammers of Misfortune. Each album is unique and terrific. This band is a rare gem due to their originality and unique variety of vocals and excellent song arrangements. This debut sounds like a seasoned band, not a band that was new at the time. Metal Archives lists the band as active but they’ve not posted on FB since 2018. I recently reached out to them because this is a terrific band. Regardless; a fantastic reissue, killer debut, and get all their releases.

When you listen to the first track, “Call Me a Symbol,” it sounds like Meshuggah adjacent groove metal. Immediately, the production stands out, as does frontwoman Tatiana Shmailyuk. This track sets the tone. It’s a straight pummeling for the first couple minutes, until her clean vocals kick in. Yes, there’s a small hook, but this sets the tone because the following tracks altogether are a lot heavier than you probably expected.

Track 2, “Colossus,” continues this. Yes, there’s more of a pronounced hook and chorus, but for the most part, it’s pretty heavy on the groove. The first two tracks are straightforward enough to lay the groundwork, but one has to wonder when the experimental side of Jinjer comes out to play.

However, one does not have to wait long, as track 3, “Vortex,” begins quietly with clean vocals, and a more subdued, almost lounge vibe. Ugh. I hate the word “vibe,” but it applies here. This track, however, gets heavy as well a little less than two minutes in. The groove in this track will get your head moving. This track, if one were to view it as such, is almost sort of an evolution of the first two, moving along into more progressive territory, but not totally abandoning the heaviness.

If you’re looking for something a little experimental, you have to move further along into the album to the title track, which is of course called “Wallflower.” It’s carried by Tatiana’s excellent cleans, and has some teases that it’s about to rip your heard from your flabby body, but only briefly enters that heavier territory. The chorus is one of the best on the album, instantly repeatable, and gives an insight into the band during these times you should definitely check out if you’re interested.

At the end of the album, the last two tracks are sort of companion pieces. “As I Boil Ice,” you know, to make water, is the first one, and it begins with the chorus, which is some solid songwriting. One can infer many things about that chorus. The last track and single “Mediator” begins with a literal “stop” and “go.” Listen and you’ll understand. The reason I say the last two tracks are companion pieces is because that chorus mentioned for “As I Boil Ice,” makes a brief appearance here, too. I’m really glad they chose this song to end the album on a high note. It’s a banger and probably the best track here, making the lead up to it well worth it.

I will be honest in saying I have only heard Jinjer’s last few recordings and I have become a fan. I may go see them when they play close to me later this year. I can see this one being on my year end list. I really have no negatives as it moves enough, is heavier than expected, and dynamic enough to keep my attention through its runtime. If you’ve never given this band a chance, I recommend you do. Yes, sometimes hype is justified.

The band broke up in the 90s and reformed in 2018 to release Deformation of Humanity, which I have not heard, (but snippets seem to indicate a more urgent melodeath direction) but considering my recent obsession with keyboards and orchestral laced metal, I thought it was time I listened to these guys.

So the parts I heard of Deformation of Humanity certainly seem to be the band’s new direction, with much less doom (though still around) on this new EP, though the heavy use of keyboards/strings are still here. I’m reminded of Garden of Shadows Oracle Moon album at times.

The 7 song, 25 minute EP follows the same sound as the last album, the highlight being the heavy use of keyboards and strings backing the deep death/ doom growls of Ben De Graaff. After the intro “It Will Pass”, the first song is the EPs title track, a short burst of At The Gates styled hack ‘n’ slash melo death backed with gregarious keyboards.

“No Surrender” gets back to a more mid-paced, gothic/doom metal trundle and some clean vocals. Then “Beheaded Identity” is a pure doom mope, with gorgeous synths backing the despondent riffs. “You Get the Idea” is another short sharp, aggressive burst before “Collusion Starts Here” enters the fray with a crunchy melodic stomp. Closer “GPS” ends the EP with a mix of surprisingly stern blast beats and big beefy grooves.

I’ve since gone back and grabbed the band’s discography after hearing this EP, as the symphonic elements are excellent, especially when mixed with the doom/death and melo-death and I’m looking forward to future releases from this ambitious and creative Dutch band.

But what if Symphonic Black Metal had a radically different, happier, Rennaisance era, classical influence such as Handel’s Messiah or Haydsn’s Seasons (spring in particular)? What if it was a happy, uplifting mood-enhancing form of classically inspired black metal? Such is the case with the debut 4 song, 30 minute, solo EP from one Christian Cosentino from Auckland, Australia, and my god, at times its breathtakingly gorgeous.

One just need to look at the artwork to see the bright and elegant, happy pastel hues as opposed to barren, windswept mountains and snowy vistas or Norway. And I seem to be saying “these are the best keyboards/synths I’ve ever heard” quite a bit recently, but Cosentino, who is clearly a maestro piano player, uses his considerable skill to enhance some mid-level atmospheric/post-black metal to whole new levels, on par with the likes of the recent Lamentari even. just listen to the opening bars of “Lawn” or “Lustre”…. just gorgeous.

Normally with this kind of music, I listen to see if the underlying music would still be enjoyable without the keys, but here it’s the opposite. The keys and particularly the piano work is front and center and the black metal is a bit of simplistic afterthought, as this is largely instrumental and focused on the keyboards. There are only a few moments where the guitars and raspy vocals all come together to form something akin to true symphonic black metal (end of “Lawn”, “Duality”, the midsection of 12-minute centerpiece “Psychogenic”- where he actually delivers a really impressive moment at  5:35).

The guitars are a bit tinny and the drums are clearly programmed and the vocals are either a distant rasp or post-black croon, but its all wrapped up in such warm, uplifting keyboard work that I’ve not anything quite like it. The nearest comparison I can think of is Ghostbound or the UKs Dawnwalker, but even then the keyboards here are far more prominent.

The amazing thing is, is that this was written between 2017-2o18 when Cosentino was barely out of high school, so he is definitely an act will be keeping an eye on as he fleshes out his unique take on symphonic music.

As for the band, the same rings true; They’re progressive, comprised entirely of Germans, and good for a release every couple of years (again, what).

Since we share so much in common, it only seems fair I review their new album Phanerozoic II: Mesozoic/Cenozoic. I’m blown away no one claimed this album first, especially following the masterpiece they released in 2018; Phanerozoic I: Paleozoic. Then again, everything I have ever heard from them can be called “great” at worst and “masterpiece” at best.

To say expectations were high for the new affair would be an understatement. The opening track, “Triassic” starts off very well with the guitar melody creeping its way into your brain amongst mostly subdued instrumentals. That bassadilla (patent pending) sounds brilliant, too. It’s an 8-and-a-half-minute opener which is essentially one big vocal hook. This isn’t an easy task to pull off without boring the listener, but nothing The Ocean does is easy (except your mom).

Possibly the best track on this entire album is the next one, which is called “Jurassic I Cretaceous.” It’s about 13 minutes and is basically two tracks in one. When it switches directions about halfway, I thought the vocals sounded a lot like Jonas Renske of Katatonia. Well, they actually sound exactly like him… because it is him. His vocals fit this track perfectly as it reminds me quite a bit of his band’s latter era work (which I criminally underrated earlier this year). Near the end, the vocals transition back to Loïc, who does his usual masterful job. The first two tracks are definitely standouts.

After those, there is a series of shorter tracks nestled in the middle, including an instrumental interlude called “Oligocene.” “Eocene” and “Miocene I Pliocene” surround that short interlude. While all of these tracks are important to the flow of the album, the others at the beginning and end of the track listing are far more important to the overall vibe, such as track 7, “Pleistocene.”

Speaking of; “Pleistocene” might be the most death metal The Ocean has ever been, at least to these ears. The track has an unhinged, about to fly off the rails, suffocating quality with harsh vocals and blast beats, specifically with about two minutes left. The build up to it is spellbinding. Dare I say it’s like drowning… in The Ocean (har har)?

The next track is the closer called “Holocene.” There’s a great chorus, but possibly the best part is that the refrain from the opening track is repeated near the end. It’s very well-done and it bookends the album beautifully.

The verdict is probably pretty clear. By the time this is posted, hopefully my bundle will have arrived. This is not their heaviest album. No, not by a long shot. In fact, it is possibly their least heavy. It’s more keyboard driven, but not to an overbearing degree. It’s catchy, passionate, and inventive all the way through. Album of the year material all the way through.

Scardust’s debut album, Sands of Time was originally self released in 2017, but has been picked up by M Theory Audio (Into Eternity, The Absence, Hecate Enthroned) to be available for the first time outside of Israel, and I’m thankful, as this is one of the more ambitious female fronted metal bands I’ve heard in some time.

The album plays like a  dramatic metal opera akin to Therion, and isn’t your  usual female fronted verse/chorus, gothic sugary bluster. Guitarist Yadin Moyal clearly loves Dream Theater, as there is lots and lots of noodling and proggy, shifty time changes and bassist Yanai Avnet delivers lots of twiddly bass runs and solos (just listen to “Sands of Time: Hourglass”). Of course, the star of the show is vocalist Noa Gruman, who delivers all ranges from full on operatics to ethereal croons  and powerful choruses to more sultry tones. And the orchestration and choral arrangements of gifted young newcomer Alex Nicloa is top notch, with sweeping bombastic themes, that actually stray from the expected, cliched  Middle eastern tones.

The first half of the album is five tracks “Sands if Time”:, Overture, Eyes of Agony, Dials, Hourglass and Sands of Time. And its downright epic. Even if the 4 minute instrumental intro is a bit much, notably, “Dials” and the conclusion “Sands of Time” are simply enthralling and captivating in their shifty, shimmery compositions.

The rest of the album is just as good, as the addictive, totally uplifting “Arrrowhead” (that little Broadway choral break towards the end is to die for), except the track “Out of Strong Came Sweetness”, featuring Kobi Farhi of Orphaned Land is the album’s weakest cut and seems a bit shoe horned in to feature Farhi.  However, the next track “Queen of Insanity” delivers a surprisingly stern and beefy proggy opening stanza (including death metal growls and screams from someone) and continues to show Gruman’s skill as she delivers sheer, soaring vocal crescendos. “Blades ” comes close to a ballad of sorts, but still has a heavy choppy, noodly,  Dream Theater backbone, before closer “Gift Divine” renders a true prog ballad, I just wish the album closed an more energetic note rather than 2 slower convoluted but still engaging songs.

Still, while bands like Jinjer seem to get a lion’s share of the attention, and certainly no disrespect to them, but Scardust is hemorrhaging  talent at every level and should be getting more media attention all over as they are burgeoning stars.

The major hurdle for bands plying their trade in the old school realms of metal, is the over-reliance on nostalgia and unwillingness to move with the times. This can be all good and well, but it isn’t exactly a sound blueprint for creating something with a bit of uniqueness and identity, pushing beyond the constricting boundaries of being a throwback blast from the past. Black Sites successfully navigate this pitfall, deftly crafting hook-laden, traditional metal anthems with vibrant old school metal riffs, oodles of headbanging groove, and a smidgen of doom and prog to flesh things out. Exile is also a darker, doomier beast compared to its predecessor, without eschewing the upbeat, glorious hooks embedded into the band’s sound. Yet through the layers of old school appreciation and nods to the past, Black Sites still possess a sound and vibe that plants them in the here and now, a freshness and exuberance that separates the band from the retro pack.

Songwriting variety is present in spades, making for a diverse, though cohesive experience. The opening trio of tunes kicks the album into high gear, creating an energetic, sprightly start to the album. From the epic chorus, soaring melodies and chunky riffs of “The Night They Came for You,” riff-driven rock crunch of “Into the Fire,” to the rousing hooks and classic metal vibe of “Feral Child,” Exile’s early tracks crank the album into barnstorming motion. Don’t be fooled however, as Exile is certainly not a front-loaded album. Quality is well dispersed and there are no real missteps or pacing issues. “Coal City” pushes vocal limits to breaking point during the slightly drawn out slow burn opening, before developing into an emotive, doomy slab of progressive rock. Meanwhile the infectious chorus, slick guitar work and hooky riffs of hard-hitting rocker “Focused Totality – The Psychic Knife” gets the adrenaline pumping. Epic closer “Dwell Upon the End” channels the mighty Sabbath, with a doomy swagger, powerhouse riffs and wonderful musicianship. It’s a truly imaginative and memorable composition to close out the album on a soaring high note.

Singer, guitarist and chief songwriter Mark Sugar (ex-Trials) has upped his game and is well supported by his band mates. The musicianship is excellent across the board, but the guitar work from Sugar and Ryan Bruchert (ex-Trials) forms a particularly potent combination. Whether ripping out sleek dual guitar harmonies, bruising riffage or more delicate melodic passages, the duo deliver ripping performances. Sugar’s clean vocals also sound more confident and assured. He knows his away around an infectious vocal hook and his emotive, no-frills style has a rougher edge that adds to the grittier feel of Exile. Not to be outdone, the combination of bassist José Salazar and drummer Garry Naples (Wolvhammer and Novembers Doom) hold their own, combining to create a crafty and cushioning rhythmic backbone. The production job, courtesy of the band and boosted by a stellar Sanford Parker mix, sounds great, featuring balance, clarity and punchy organic tones without ever sounding overly clean or polished.

Raising the stakes from their solid debut, Black Sites return with a triumphant platter of old school progressive and traditional metal bravado imbued with modern crunch and loaded with memorable hooks, killer riffs and tightly written and performed tunes. They’ve created a confident sophomore album that builds upon the solid platform of In Monochrome in fresh and exciting ways, resulting in an immensely addictive and accomplished album.

I loved 2011 Unlorja, and the 7 year wait has been worth while as the band continues the style of Dillenger Escape Plan spazziness, Brazen Bull  early The End tech overload and BTBAM’s proggy shred-tastic arpeggio  avalanche.

To say this is an ambitious release would be like saying Word War I was ‘a little bit of a kerfuffle’. This is next level ambitious, at times, exasperatingly so, as there are very few steady constant riffs or moments to recall or tap your feet to as its essentially a 50 minute solo and jam session, but holy fuck is it skilled. Jaw droppingly so in fact. Guitarists Joe Van Houten and Tony Juvinall, are simply stunning, taking center stage from drummer Justin Tvetan and the session vocalists TJ Joubert (With Wolves) Drew Winter  (Shadow of the Colussus) and Akoni Berman. Van Houten also provides vocals and wrote all the lyrics. How ambitious are the lyrics? There is a fucking novel that you can order as a companion to the CD!!! Not a few pages, a 143 page book!

Describing such a release is hard, it’s not about moments or riffs, but a …Journey of sorts.. the story being told by stammering drums, stop-start squealing riffs, shredding leads and complete and total controlled chaos. I can’t point to a song that jumps out at me, as the whole affair truly jumps out. That said, a few moments of sheer brilliant lucidity spring out a little further within the tracks, such as surprisingly brutal  “Calamity Smile”, BTBAM shimmer and shatter of”Tyrannical Enrapture”, dulcet kaleidoscopic chaos of “Duplicitous Moonlight”, breathtaking duality of “Polyentrophy” or the crystalline personal favorite “Forsake in Umbra”, the album’s shortest but most melodic track with a mind-melting bridge and lead that will cramp air guitarist’s fingers in a minute.

But when taken as a whole experience, the album is just simply a mind-boggling, brilliant, if a very niche release. But true musician and aficionados should appreciate what is going on here. Those wanting a quick song for a road trip should look elsewhere.

Instead, how about: “the overman… has organized the chaos of his passions, given style to his character, and become creative. Aware of life’s terrors, he affirms life without resentment.” Or “You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star.” And then there’s “The future influences the present just as much as the past.”

Interpret as you wish, but I’m easily able to link each piece of wisdom to Ihsahn’s remarkable career. Particularly that last one – four albums after Emperor, and the Wagnerian fury of his years in that timeless band is still there, but now it’s slashed across a carefully accrued post-black palette that blends stark atmosphere, lush clean vocals and lately, Jørgen Munkeby’s writhing, honking saxophone.

For the first two tracks on Eremita (Latin for ‘hermit,’ though you can also think of the album as After After), that collision of future, present and past is as triumphant as anything on any of his releases since Prometheus. “Arrival” is all blackened locomotive chug, with a minor classical melody cresting into a soulful clean chorus, courtesy of Leprous’ Einar Solberg. The track is bombastic and thoughtful, jagged and sleek, but it’s only the herald for the frenzied battering ram of “The Paranoid,” the latest hypercharged model of “Thorns on My Grave” or “A Grave Inversed.” Love the anthemic chorus – “and the shame feeds the anger feeds the shame feeds the anger” – as well as the saxophone that comes in at the end, disguised as a blatting warhorn (and if only we could send it back in time, Terminator-style, to kill its tootling ancestors on “Al Svartr.”)

After that, you may be caught off-guard by the slower, sensuous and well, introspective “Introspection,” which features guest vocals by Devin Townsend, but instead sounds to me like a chuggy mix of Ihsahn and Mastodon, most notably like something off of Crack the Skye. (Note to Troy Sanders, get us a Scott Kelly/Ihsahn duet on the next album). That’s a fun surprise, and a great track, but then the album gets a lot darker, more dour and experimental, and thus it’s not recommended for casual listening sessions.

“The Eagle and the Snake” is Ihsahn’s doomy skullcrusher, and here, the hook is that it’s the sax that provides the plodding percussion and melodic momentum. In fact, in a neat bit of metallic onomatopoeia, the sax takes on both of the titular roles – wild, jazzy screeches for the soaring eagle, and miserable honks and brays for the crawling snake. (A former raven makes an appearance as well; Jeff Loomis, with a blistering guitar solo). Then, two tracks later, “Something Out There” layers shrill, Anthems-era symphonics beneath a breakneck rumble, then smoothes out and glides into a crooned chorus. The “something borrowed, something blue” refrain made me think of a wedding rather than the rest of the album’s funeral mood, but it’s still a fast and melodic track, which is what I enjoy most from Ihsahn.

That’s in direct opposition to three of the other tracks, which you’ll either find daringly brilliant or momentum-shattering, depending on your mood. I’m still torn. I felt that “Catharsis,” an aimless tone-poem of warbling sax, mystical guitars and bass, trance-like drums and rasped exhortations, was sonically impressive, but aside from its lovely clean chorus, hardly earned its name. And then there’s “Grief/The Grave,” the album’s epic and monstrous climax. It’s Ihsahn’s most psychotic composition yet, all clattering, chaotic drums and manic-depressive sax, like the funeral-noir combo of Barry Adamson, Penderecki and ambient Leviathan. The lyric “He hammers,” chanted over and over, only makes it all the more disturbing. Like I said, if you’re in the right frame of mind and environment (buried alive would be my guess), you’ll find it overwhelming and spectacular, but it’s not going to be a frequent play for me.

I much preferred “Departure,” which struggles and spasms violently before setting off of the album’s most progressive and varied 7 minutes, from bizarre, chilled-out lounge to an ethereal and foreign aria of female vocals (courtesy of Ihsahn’s wife, formerly known as Ihriel when she sang with him in Peccatum). I can only hope that this variance of texture and mood will continue onto album number 5, as it felt to me like the most liberated and loosest of the album’s cuts (even compared to the aforementioned structure-light explorations).

Despite its less visceral, speedy or satisfying moments, Eremita is still a challenging work of art whereas other metal releases this year are merely entertainment. For me, Ihsahn’s most thrilling moments have been when new elements and alien influences batter and smash against the rigid black metal framework, so much so that I don’t even know if you can even describe his work as post-black anymore. As a longtime Emperor fan, the radical progression of his output means that I may never get the purely symphonic sequel to Anthems that I’ve always wanted, but, to return to our friend Friedrich, “extreme positions are not succeeded by moderate ones, but by contrary extreme positions.”

The opening track, “Android,” is also the longest on Mind is Key, at +16 minutes. That’s a lot of space to fill, but these guys have zeroed in on a hybrid, muscular sound, and they build it up smartly over time – though not without a few left-field surprises that take some time to process. It all starts with a bedrock layer of off-time, stuttery Meshuggah-like guitars and spattered, staccato percussion, and then a minute in, switches up to a fierce, spiraling groove that recalls nothing so much as the riffs off of Lamb of God’s Ashes of the Wake. I’ll be honest, djent rarely holds my attention for long, but this progressive melodic approach to the genre is a significant evolution to my ears.

Before long, another element joins the fray – post-hardcore styled shouts and cleans that trade off with the hoarse barks and roars. At first I found them too youthful and not genuinely aggressive enough, but they lend the band a unique character and I’ve come to like them. The chunky, spiraling and machine-gunned barrage continues throughout much of the first half, but by the song’s midsection, I started to hear two other major influences coming through. The more melodic, complex and brighter passages and solos reminded me strongly of Dream Theater, and the progressive death undulations that erupt towards the end of the song recall late-era Death/Chuck Schuldiner. Not bad company at all.

“Android” is an extremely ambitious track to start the album off with, and probably the track I had to listen to the most to ‘get it.’ The track never flags, but it is a lot to take in for your first taste of the band, especially since there are more focused songs on the album – I’ll get to those in a bit. At the very least, you should be impressed by the band’s skill and their melodic take on Meshuggah-style mathematical rage.

Unfortunately, Paradigm stumbles with the second track, “Atmosphere.” It’s a sodden Gojira clone, with none of that band’s strident, crackling aggression and only one interesting (and, not surprisingly) atmospheric passage. The sludgy mood doesn’t really do the album any favors, especially after such a strong opening.

Things pick up again with track 3, “Portals,” another longish odyssey that leans harder on thrash and metalcore in its opening minutes, and contains a thrilling melodic crescendo one minute in – one that, sadly, is never repeated again in the rest of the track, though it does reach other melodic peaks in its final third. The youthful shouts make a return here as well, though they’re a bit more shrill than before. However, everything else here is so great that I’ve just become accustomed to them.

All in all, a great, listenable track and from here, Mind is Key pretty much cooks – even with the addition of “Visions,” which is sure to be the one that throws most of you. Simply put, it’s the band’s Opeth/Porcupine Tree moment. It’s very well-played, with delicate, lilting clean guitars and folkish, vaguely Appalachian vocals, but given that none of the preceding songs incorporated any of these elements, “Visions” is a bit out of place in the whole. Still, I love the sound here, and I hope the band will be confident enough to weave it into some of their future work.

That leaves the final two tracks, “Wish Us Light” and “Written in Blood,” and as I said above, they’re the most focused pieces on the album – and also the best. “Wish Us Light” opens with a gorgeous, shimmering riff before tearing into propulsive, progressive thrash. The song doesn’t just flow – it hurtles, and that energy carries it all the way up to the triumphant melodic choruses, which reprise the shimmering melody from the opening minutes. This is the track I’ve played the most of off Mind is Key, sometimes restarting it as soon as it’s over. “Written in Blood” has a meaner attitude, starting with a more streamlined attack than probably anything else on the album. Over the course of its 12-minute running time, it grows choppier and more complex, and works in some fantastic and dizzying technical soloing. It’s also more accessible than a challenging behemoth like “Android.”

That brings me to my chief critique of the album – I would have paced and structured it differently. Start off with the two final tracks to grab listeners by the balls right away without any risk of losing them (although the rhapsodic final minutes of “Blood” really do belong at the end of the album), then switch to “Visions” for an interlude, then “Portals,” drop “Atmosphere” (or write something more adventurous and less sludgy), and finally end with “Android” as the big monstrous closer.

Regardless, I can do that myself in iTunes, and besides, the fact that I even care to geek and nitpick like this means I genuinely think there’s something special here. Once again, I love the progressive/melodic djent thing that Paradigm‘s got going on, some of their riffs sound more like Lamb of God used to than that band does now, and as a big Dream Theater fan, any kind of cogent, complex and melodic fireworks are bound to make me pay attention. And most importantly, I think I’ll still be playing Mind is Key throughout the rest of 2012, which is the highest compliment I can pay to any progressive album.