The Steve Rathbone (7000 Dying Rats) led project, joined at times by the likes of Larry Herwig (Pelican), Chris Wozniak (Serpent Crown), Nate Olp (Demiricous), and others, kicked out 3 kickass albums and 1 DVD of pure metal that mixed thrash, sludge, black, and death metal into a battle vest-clad, testosterone-fueled ball of metal fuckery. They even found one of their songs (“Warlord” from 2010s Evil Power on a Tony Hawk video game.

But after Evil Power, the band broke up and took an extended hiatus until 2026, where Rathbone and Wozniak, now joined by Sanford Parker (Buried at Sea, ex- Minsk, ex-Nachtmystium) on bass, re-entered the fray to bring some no frills, no gimmick, no trends, no bullshit metal back into the scene.

The 30 direct as fuck minutes on I Hail I, as with the band’s back catalog, does not fuck about. It’s a burly, tumbling mix of styles that just encompasses all types of metal from grindcore, hardcore, to Celtic Frost, to Entombed’s Wolverine Blues, to fellow Chicago vets Cianide or Jungle Rot, Crowbar, Neurosis, and everything in between.

Rathbone’s gruff shout and the filthy guitars keep things extreme as the trio kicks out 9 tracks (and a sort of spoken word interlude) of unpolished, untriggered, unabashed chaos. It’s dirty, it has blast beats, it has slow churning grooves, it does everything a grizzled old metal head would want. Oh, and it’s all about Greek mythology, too. Fuck yeah! (*throws the horns up*).

You get the urgent gallop and stomp of the opener “Emperor of Dis”, the rumbling title track,  the massive groove of “Saturnus Reign”, the more blackened “Family Tree”, and the pure doom/sludge crawl of 7-minute closer “Tartarus Apocalypse”, and like there infleucnces- everything in between.

Dad’s? – You really wanna show your burgeoning metalhead offspring what real fucking metal was really like 16 years ago, not the metalcore/deathcore explosion at the time? This is fucking it.

Yeah, this is real Dadcore.™

With only a 4-year wait, this time, but the same lineup as Ritual Violence, Armed For Apocalypse delivers the goods once again with another massive slab of sludgy doomy metal that will shake your bones.

Whereas the recent sludge effort by Stalemate of Wills missed the mark a little, Highgate who are a litle more black metal sludge, or Tarlung, who leaned a little more into the death/doom side of things, AFA, is straight-up, nasty, crawling, loping sludge metal with nods to Crowbar (albeit less soulful/southern), High on Fire, Conjurer,  and of course, other bands they came up with, like Beaten Back to Pure, The Abominable Iron Sloth, and Black Cobra.

I’d venture to say they have a little hardcore in here as well, with some slightly faster gallops here and there, as heard on “Spellbound”, “Lost Without a Light”, “Keep Up Appearances”, and “Lurk”, which even has a blastbeat.

The eleven songs veer away from longer, sometimes atmospheric, sludgy tropes, often getting right the fuck to it, with a couple of tunes barely over 2 minutes, and the longest song being the 6-minute closing title track. But man, they all contain some fucking beefy moments, aided by the crumbling Kurt Ballou production,

Whether it’s the feedback on the opener “Drown”, the absolute beatdown of one of those short tracks, “Spellbound”, sickly lurch and haunting acoustics of “Immortal”, the disgustingly dirgey instrumental “Bathed in a Tepid Pool of My Own Filth”, or even the slightly more introspective closing title track, the whole album drips with grimy menace and heft, making it yet another standout addition to the band’s solid discography.

Then a promo came across my desk that touted Statement of Wills as ‘for fans of Doom metal, hardcore, 90s death metal and the New Orleans sludge sound‘. So I grabbed it, and then, as a bonus, found out the band was founded by Derek Kovacs, who founded one of my very favorite 00s hardcore bands, Built Upon Frustration. He’s joined by Bob McSherry on drums and Jake Morris on bass.

The promotional description is pretty spot on, except I’m not getting much 90s death metal. This is a sort of doomy, sludgy hardcore that does have some Crowbar-ism, but you can also hear Kovacs’ hardcore roots, with the riffs and his bellow that are reminiscent of his Built Upon Frustation days. 

The guitars are nice and beefy, delivering simple, stout riffs that come across as a slightly moody, doom-ish version of Kovac’s hardcore days. But that said, none of it really sticks or hits hard, lacking some of the emotional and actual sonic heft of a Crowbar, etc.

There are some decent riffs like opener “Visibility”, ‘Two Worlds” or the closer “Light The Way”. They try to get a little more draining on “Existence Denied” and “High Above”, where there are some cleaner croons, but it doesn’t quite land. And that sums up the album. It’s decent and something I’ll listen to as background music, but there’s nothing here that pulls me back, demanding I listen to it again, beyond reviewing purposes.

Occasionally, I need a break from deathcore and symphonic black metal, and a couple of doom and doom-ish releases have my ear; Last Light Fades from Aussies, Graves For Gods, Galvanist’s The Silence Between Stars from last year, and this hefty little release.

This album resides a little more in the sludge/stoner realm, with its down-tuned, groovy, smoky hues, but also features some more death-metal-ish vocals, which appeal to me. It should also appeal to fans who like Crowbar, and to these ears, the 2010’s Finnish act Lurk. I also feel like some of these riffs could have been on the later, pre-reunion Gorefest (Soul Survivor, Chapter 13) albums.

The deeper, gravelly vocals of Philipp Seiler keep things heavy, as does the earthy guitar tone, which delivers a nice blend of pure doom/sludge (“Valley of Nowhere”, “Full Circle”, “Between Earth and Moon”, “Axis Mundi”) or smoky, hazy lopes (“Burning Out”, “Sea of Drowned Souls”, “Swans”).

With that, it stays away from the more traditional/epic doom (there are just a couple of very small clean vocal segments) or more psychedelic sides of stoner doom, and feels a little more like death metal on barbiturates, chilling on the couch with a bong and a bag of Doritos.

Axis Mundi has been an album I’ve been giving a surprising amount of listening time, especially on weekends, with headphones and a…. little medicinal assistance. I suggest you do the same and give it a go.

Deprecipice is the band’s 4th album, and is a brutal, nasty,no frills 10 song punch in the face that continues and develops from the last album Leave Me the Ashes of the Earth, with a heavier denser, chainsaw-sounding tone (from long-time producer Joe Clayton), and it’s a killer ride.

This is one of those releases that long-winded hyperbole and creative analogy just seem kinda of wasted on. This is one of those releases that you just need to go listen to and let it beat you about the head and neck for its bruising 34-minute run time, then go take some Advil (oh sorry this is a UK band… take some paracetamol).

This Iron Monkey/Gatecreeper love child spares no women or children from the opener “Bite Radius” to closer “Thorn Trauma”  with meaty riffs deserving of their massive canine moniker, lumbering fetid grooves sludgy crawls, and snarling blasts like appropriately named “Skin Stripper” and “Thorn Trauma” (where I really got Trap Them vibes).

A few moments of discordant programmed noise arise here and there like in “Cut Throat” or “The Shape”, but mostly there are just caustic, menacing, loping riffs like standouts “Everything is Ending”, “Void”,”Worship” and thunderous Xibalba-ish “Pitiful” (the breakdown after the shout of “Fuck this world, let it burn!” is fucking savage).

The vocals from Jim Hodge and Lee Ross are a perfect mix of gruff bellows and feral screams and it all comes together for a surprise album that kind of grabbed me by the throat outta nowhere and shook me around here in early 2024 and is certainly (and literally)  going to leave its mark for the rest of the year.

I guess the band has dropped 2 other albums since then in 2007s ..in the Weak and the Wounded and 2010s The Guilt of Feeling Alive. Neither of which I have heard, but here they are 14 years after their last effort with a new, 4-song 38-minute affair. Now, I can’t compare Maze to the last 2 albums, but as expected, Maze does not quite hit as hard as their debut all that time ago, which really did illicit a strong reaction from me (and still does as I’ve listed to it again to prep for this review).

It appears the band, which is still a sort of black sludge band, especially vocally with more black metal screeches, also dipped their toes in the post-rock/post-metal sound with a more lumbering, mountainous sound that builds and ebbs in line with bands like Neurosis, Minsk and such, and the production is a little cleaner and palatable than the debut.

Still, at times, especially with Ilias Apostolakis’s gnarly rasps and shrieks (and occasional low crocodilian growl) the band does imbue some of their debut work, with some black metal expulsions buried in the songs which all fall in the 6-8 ish minute range.  This makes for a short album, and it sort of feels like an EP.

As I said, Maze isn’t as nausea-inducing as the debut, but moments in all 5 tracks “Liars in Wait”, “After the Fall”, “Ghost”, “Voidhanger” and “Buried Endeavors” deliver some pretty vicious blackened sludge with rusty, bristling tremolo-picked blasts (i.e. “Liars in Wait”) among the more brooding, hacking post metal rumbles (“Ghost”).

A solid return after a 14-year wait, but likely to get overshadowed by the new Iron Monkey album after an eight-year wait.

Opener “Japan is Sacred” creates that atmosphere right out of the box and it isn’t until track two “Thunder. Fire. Blood” that the band actually plays music and holy shit it’s HEAVY. Mudshow play Ultra-Violent Sludge Metal and yeah, it’s pretty sludgy as shown on the next actual track “Purpose & Mercy” with it’s vicious, tortured vocals ‘put me out of my misery!’ is the blood-curdling chorus. The track is proceeded by two short instrumentals “A Symphony of Hells” and the haunting as fuck “Against the Sky Itself.”

“Destiny Awaits” has this flow to it, like watching a landslide, or maybe an avalanche; some more creepy as fuck recitation is added at the end. Anyway, “Onita Theater” is two minutes of menace with some discordant chanting going on in the background. This might have something to do with the wrestling theme of the album that I’m still not quite understanding.

“Burning Idol” is hands down my favorite song on Destiny. It reminds me of Rollins Bands “Liar”. The press release mentions Three 6 Mafia and I guess this song is where that comes from. It also has that little China cymbal ting-ting before the ‘rapping’ part comes out. The album closes with the somber “Last November”, a track as gloomy as a cloudy day. Discordant guitars doing clean picking over the drenched-in battery acid vocal delivery. It’s a super slow-crawler of a song.

So, I’m torn with this album. I tried to understand the concept of the poem integration which is a killer idea but then there’s the wrestling theme of this great rivalry that I don’t really care about one bit. It’s a goddamn ridiculously heavy album, as each song gets progressively more intense as the album plows forward and that’s no joke. This motherfucker had my head moving numerous times, especially “Purpose & Mercy” which is my second favorite track. However it’s not something that I really would go to often, it’s more of a mood setter I guess. Maybe like background music for a massacre when you have nothing to lose, but in wrestling garb… anyway.

This is for you fans of: Eyehategod, Neurosis, and I would even dare to add Sleep. If you’re into that then Mudshow is definitely right up your tree. Nevertheless, a solid debut that will shake your eardrums.

12 songs in just under an hour, so pull up your suspenders and get ready.  “The Universe Is Weeping” begins with some atmospheric parts and then picks up with the speed, almost having a NWOBHM tinge to it with the galloping moments.  Erik Olson is one of the guitarists and is the singer – with a throaty gravelly voice.  He sounds great and the guitar melodies on this song remind me of the excellent Ian Blurton’s Future Now, since there are some tinges of 70’s metal.  The clean vocals come in at the 4 minute mark and they work well.

The song is over before you know it and “I Am Nothing I Am Everything” comes smashing through with Kevin Swartz showcasing some excellent drum skills.  Great drum rolls and the song has excellent melodies and then some of the deeper register vocals have a bit of a death metal flair to them.  Alyssa Mocere provides the bass guitar and you can hear the bass strumming and Chris Evans adds creative guitar riffing as the second guitarist.  I imagine the vocalist in a long black cape singing these lyrics, for some odd reason.  The mid-section has a build-up that you think is going to end, but that pattern keeps going on, not used to hearing something like that, but at the 4.08 section the scorching guitar solo comes rip roaring in and the excellent drums continue.  A short while later we are greeted to blast beats – I was not expecting that, but they are extreme and getting into gravity blasting even.

“Unto Becoming” has a lot of clean vocals and the more I listen closer to these guys they have an eclectic sound that is kinda all over the place, like Hammers of Misfortune, whom I really enjoy.  Lord Dying one minute are playing some stoner 70’s riff, then blasting away, then some death metally growls, then more eclectic metal with the clean vocals and this song has a lot of progressive elements, with some Lamb of God styled growly vocals.  This is a super fun song with some excellent double bass moments as well.

“Dancing on the Emptiness” is the longest song at over 8 minutes it starts with jumpy drums, clean vocals, excellent bass guitar lines and epic guitar melodies.  The vocals are rather excellent and much of these parts are poly-rhythmic in nature with how they are crafted.  The music seems pretty complicated to play, however, it is seamless and beyond catchy.  There are so many soaring vocal moments and killer double bass sections.  There are atmospheric and softer sections and some elements on this song remind me of Dream Theatre as well.  The vocals are extraordinary on this song.  “Soul Metamorphosis” has some fun guitar melodies going on in the beginning and the drums over these moments are neat, and then the growly vocals come in and the song thrashes along, very thrashy indeed with the punishing drums and the guitar riffing getting heavier, then the song slows down – ethereal in nature and nice creative drum work.  Some heavy sludge comes forward and the vicious Lamb of God-styled growly vocals return and this is yet another song with so many parts crammed into 5 and a half minutes and never once boring.

Lord Dying’s Clandestine Transcendence is a fantastic metal album. With elements of Hammers of Misfortune, Manilla Road, Cirith Ungol, Lamb of God just to give you an idea of what to expect, still Lord Dying are fresh, and original.  The production on this album allows for all the instruments to be heard without overtaking another section and it sounds organic too.  The varied vocal arrangements and tones are a true highlight for me and I am definitely going to check out their prior albums.  I love this damn album – killer stuff!

One of the standout tracks (honestly, they all are, but I digress…) is the third one, “The Mirror.” The vocals and keys take center stage, and the guitars are mostly in the background, but their presence is no less effective or essential. This track may have the best hook on the album, but there are so many more that it’s difficult to choose. The track is over 6 minutes but does not feel like it at all.

The next track, “Handless Maiden,” is no less exciting, but this time it’s mainly because of the unhinged-sounding vocals. It’s much shorter than the rest at less than 4 minutes but fits in quite well with the rest.

“Regenerate,” which is track 6 of 7, is another 7-plus minute emotional rollercoaster. The vocals are more of a whisper in the verses, but the chorus is the best part. Those vocals also contribute to more of a post-metal track, and give it a haunting, almost ethereal beauty. In the last few minutes, the guitars are still relegated to the background, bringing the sludgy riffs while the vocals descend back into maniacal territory. It goes without saying, or maybe it doesn’t, that this is my favorite track on the album.

However, that doesn’t damper the impact of the closer, which follows immediately after. It’s over 10 minutes, so strap in (or on if you’re nasty). I’m not quite sure if that’s a xylophone at the beginning, but it’s a nice touch regardless. This is certainly a sludgy number with the presence of sludgy, slow, distorted, heavy guitars carrying most of the weight. There are also some black metal-sounding, tremolo-picked melodies, which make their presence known here, as well as on other parts of the album. Slightly over halfway, the keys, sludgy guitars, and some brutal, melodic screeching all combine for the heaviest section on the album. It does slow down eventually after bringing it all to a close. Somehow, 7 tracks and 45 minutes do not seem enough.

Fuck, this is great. In my opinion (obviously), this is the first true, unquestionable album of the year contender I’ve heard in 2024. Sure, the year is young, but the mix of haunting melodies, expansive post-metal, and dirty sludge, makes up this unique, emotional, and dare I say, seminal record. You may not think you need this, but you do. I can’t stop listening to it and can’t remark enough how much I enjoy it, although that may not be the point. It’s desperately cathartic, woefully therapeutic, and you should own it.

So late in 2022, they retuned with a new length album, and frankly, I didn’t know they were still around, but boy do they let you know they are the fuck around with an absolutely crushing album of sludge metal.

Still in the High on Fire, The Abominable Iron Sloth (with whom AFA share guitarist Cayle Hunter) and Crowbar wheelhouse, but with a nastier edge, without any sort of ‘stonery’, blackened or swampy backdrop, just pure lean, mean fuzzed-out riff after riff of either plodding, stomping dirges or more urgent fiercely feral blasts.

With a tweaked lineup (notably new bassit Charlie Fischer and vocalist/guitarist Nate Burman) Ritual Violence is better than The Road Will End, itself a solid album. It matches Defeat’s levels of sheer, sludgy, filthy intensity. Burman brings a nastier sneer and bellow, the production is more lethal and everything is slightly less commercial than The Road Will End, which saw the band get a little softer.

Starting with “Under My Shame” through the ickily named “Full of Phlegm”,  and crumbling grooves of “Hourglass” and more urgent “Lifeless”  and ending with the album’s longest cut “Eternally Broken”, Ritual Violence delivers bite-sized but massive slabs of filthiness. The production is absolutely nasty, as are Nate Burman’s feral screams and shouts. There are a few atmospheric bridges here and there (i.e. “Live Through the Storm”, “Eternally Broken”) or some more punky faster numbers (“Flesh and Blood”, killer track “Foredoomed”- which also has the album’s only real “Southern” or “Swamp” stomp) to break up the feedback-drenched, tumbling, heaving heft but otherwise, this is a fucking shit storm of downturned slopes and sickly grooves.

The end result is a comeback album that’s worth the 9-year wait, and while not as high profile as other comebacks this year, is absolutely worth your time, and arguably one of heaviest sludge albums of the last few years.

It’s been 6 years since we last heard from New Orleans’ Favorite heavy metal sons, Crowbar, when they released The Serpent Only Lies back in 2016, another sturdy, predictable Crowbar release. And that is exactly what we get with album number 12.

Even with a change in the bass player from Todd Strange to Shane Wesley, the recipe remains the same; a spicy, meaty gumbo of sludgy, downtrodden riffs, hefty grooves and gravelly vocals. And even if the quantity of more uptempo groove has been upped, as well as a slight decrease in doomy mopes and the production is as clean as it ever been, you still know you are listening to a Crowbar record. You are still eating gumbo, but instead of being served to you in a rusty hub cap by a hobo with a prosthetic arm as a serving ladle, in the 9th ward, you are eating it from a polystyrene bowl and plastic spoon from a well respected, but still greasy diner in the French quarter.

Opener “The Fear That Binds You” sums up this slightly more accessible gruel, with a nifty, groovy little stomp that again highlights Kirk Windstein’s time spent with Jamey Jasta over the years. And even though the song takes a moody turn at the end, its still not as hefty as we’ve come to expect from Crowbar. And that feeling sort of permeates most of the songs on Zero and Below; a little groove, a little sludge, just in slightly different amounts per song. For example, the second track “Her Evil is Sacred” is a little more sludgy and nasty, while “Confess to Nothing” is one of those doomier, depressive numbers where Windstein uses his grizzled, semi croon. Three bites in, and you’ve tasted everything the album has to offer. But, you keep eating, ‘cos it’s tasty even if your stomach churns a bit.

Want more bites of spicy andouille sausage-y groove? “Chemical Godz” and “Bleeding From Every Hole” (and its bonkers video above). Want more, thick, filé powder stock of fuzzed-out, hefty despondency? Go for “Denial of the Truth” and the album’s most ‘classic’ Crowbar sounding number,  “Crush Negativity”. Then finish up the dark shellfish roux with some icky, slower, soul-crushing doom with the album-closing, killer title track.

As with the last few albums before it, The Serpent Only Lies, Symmetry in Black, and Sever the Wicked Hand, Zero and Below is, of course, another quality Crowbar album, if, like Windstein, a little less hefty these days, but like those albums, I don’t see myself coming back to it as much as I do with Lifesblood of the Downtrodden, or still my go-to album, Odd Fellow’s Rest.

Describing Yellowtooth is difficult as they shift around quite a bit on this album, both from track to track and within each track. What’s clear is that while the band is geographically located in Michigan City, Indiana, their heart and soul is in the deep south of Louisiana, as the mood and tone of The Burning Illusion, is a swampy, gingivitis- mouthed sludgy-ness that’s part Down, part Crowbar, part Floodgate ( the Exhorder side project). Throw in a healthy dose of death ‘n’ roll (think late Gorefest or Entombed), some stoner metal haze, and somehow, some 90s era grunge (think Alice in Chains or Soundgarden), and you get a uniquely enjoyable sound and record.

The fourth track, the standout, “Astronaut’s Journey” exemplifies Yellowtooth’s sound perfectly if you are having a hard time visualizing the above description. It’s a slow groover, as is the opener “From Faith to Flames” and hazy “Scattered to the Wind”. However, there are a few more uptempo numbers, but they still reek of moonshine and tooth decay as heard on ” The Illusion” or another killer track, “Void” and closer “Lazarus Syndrome” which almost has a melodic death metal melody and canter at times.

Clemens keeps things gruff with his vocals, (that, with the guitar tone is the death ‘n’ roll part to these ears), with a  few hazy croons here and there and they never get quite too stoner-y or fuzzed-out, but deftly straddle multiple genres with confidence and Ill be lookig forward to more albums. Now Pete, how about another Invasion album?

That’s a name I can get behind, if’n ya know what I mean. I can also get behind a band’s evolution. While I must confess I have never heard their first album, Shame On Us All, I can definitely understand the sentiment it portrays. The first one I heard was the next one, Existence is Horror, which was a decent, heavy, blackened sludge affair. The next one, Future Cult, is where shit got weird. They added some synth work into the proceedings, which honestly made it a lot more interesting than their previous work, despite not having much staying power for me.

The new one, the previously mentioned Skin Show, brings those synths back, so if you were looking for them to think it was mistake and go back to basics, well, jog on, friend. The good news is that the synths on this album play a significant role, don’t feel forced, and give some of the material a downright poppy feeling. Maybe even danceable. Uh oh.

Luckily, that “danceable” feeling comes in the form of a vibe sounding a lot like Assassins-era Nachtmystium, if you’re into that sort of thing. If you’re not, then you won’t enjoy the first track, “Become the Night.” It has a catchy chorus built around that vibe and I really dig it. The vocals may have an effect on them to accentuate frontman Scott Fogelbach’s growls and it… works.

The next one I’ll mention, the third track, “Neon Teeth,” begins with an eerie synth line which sounds similar to the main theme from the original “Halloween,” but different enough that it sounds inspired by without copying it. That’s not a knock because the sound of the synths overall, by design, have that 70s feel, which works well, and in places remind me a lot of Goblin, who provided the soundtrack for Dario Argento’s works, except there’s a heavier backbone.

Shortly after, two great song titles in a row come in the form of “Werewolf Hospital,” which sounds like a great idea for a B horror movie I would definitely watch (although does that mean the hospital treats werewolves or is ran by them?) and “Sex Trap,” which is what I would have to set for any female to pay attention to me (this is probably close to 100% true). Other than great song titles, what’s endearing about these two is that they each have recognizable hooks, but are also more straightforward metal songs with only a small synth presence.

At the end of the album, there’s the title track, “Skin Show,” and the closer “The Chemist.” Where I’m from, they call the latter a “cooker.” Both of these formidably continue the narrative laid out by the rest of the album, but the former definitely has more of a guitar presence than the other tracks. “The Chemist” is the longest track, which almost always irks me being at the end, but this is 10 songs in 42 minutes, so it doesn’t overstay its welcome.

With all I’ve said here, you can probably guess that I dig this record. I do. Yes, the synths are very prevalent, but this band is still metal to the core (not metalcore). The album’s description tells of a 70’s New York atmosphere and it makes sense. This is the band’s finest hour so far. It’s their most cohesive, well written, confident work. It’s endlessly addicting with catchy choruses everywhere you look. If you’re asking yourself if you’ll like it, just check out one track. If you like that, you’ll like the rest of the album. That doesn’t mean that it all sounds the same, but if you like the overall feel of one, you’ll enjoy the rest. Pick this up. Do yourself a friggin’ service!

In 1984 Trouble hit the scene with, yes their self-titled album.  The self-titled name was something the band went back and changed in first 1988 to Psalm 9:9 and then again, finally in 1991 as Psalm 9.  This was due to the band changing their image, going big time with their new album, Trouble, on Def Jam Recordings and Rick Rubin’s marketing genius behind the band, in 1990.  Regardless, the Trouble debut album is one of the heaviest doom albums of all time.  They essentially took the classic Sabbath sound and bastardized it more, even throwing in some speedy, almost thrashy moments in songs like “Assassin” and the amazing “Bastards Will Pay”.  The opening song “The Tempter”, still sends chills down my spine.  The band singing about good vs evil throughout the album.  The bonus song – “Tales of Brave Ulysses” is such a great cover from Cream and Trouble really made it their own and it’s still one of the best songs the band has ever done.  For me this album is the best doom metal album ever released and goes perfectly with the doomy album cover.  A year later Trouble released The Skull, more heavy doom with the same type of lyrical themes and “Pray for the Dead” is depressive and chilling still close to 4 decades later.  The band had some speedier songs, such as “Fear No Evil” and the outstanding “Gideon”.  “The Wish” at over 11 minutes was one of the longest metal songs ever released.  An amazing follow-up to their scorching debut, with an excellent album cover bringing forth more of their religious themes of good vs evil, light vs dark.

After the band’s third and monstrous album in 1987, Run to the Light, the band were poached from Metal Blade Records signing to bigwigs, Def American Recordings with Rick Rubin having the band reimage themselves, releasing the fourth album, as a self-titled album and as mentioned above going back to their debut and changing that to Psalm 9, once and for all.  For me, then and now the album cover on the 1990 Trouble album is still lame AF.  The band group photo, surrounded by foliage, in front of some structure, while the members were all clad in black shirts well…it certainly screamed sell-out rather than doom metal, right?  The album cover was meant to sell records and bring in a wider fanbase, to include female fans – and gosh darn dolly it sure did, however, the music was far from a sell-out.  This self-titled album I always enjoyed but was urged more recently, by a friend, Kat from Thronehammer and Bob from Asphyx fame to go back to this and their fifth album – so thank you both.  The songs on this, while still retaining the classic Trouble sound, had catchier guitar hooks and choruses and this was all the influence of Rick “The Genius” Rubin.  The opening track “At the End of My Daze”, with its catchy guitar riffs and chorus is an amazing song.  “Psychotic Reaction” was made into a video and you could not blow your nose for more than 2 seconds without MTV’s Headbanger’s Ball playing this super catchy song around the clock – this helped the band reach international stardom and is the song which put Trouble on the metal map. “The Misery Shows (Act II)” at over 7 minutes is the sequel to “The Misery Shows” on Run to the Light.  “Act II” with it’s catchy vocal melodies, doomy and depressive moody song structure is one of the elite songs in all of doom metal – still to this very day.  This album was more streamlined and had more hooks than the previous Trouble albums, now, while it was not as doomy, still retained their doom metal sound, just with a greater audience appeal. This album is outstanding.

In 1992 the band went into the psychedelic doom/stoner metal with their 5^th album Manic Frustration.  Awesome mind-tripping album cover, exuding the stoner edge with the logo and album logo.  Highlights are definitely “Come Touch the Sky”, “’Scuse Me”, “The Sleeper”, the title track and “Memory’s Garden”.  The doomy guitar sound is still there, but the songs have more of a rockin’ feel to them with that stoner edge.  Eric Wagner continuing to have one of the best and most original metal voices, on this album.

In 2006 Escapi Music reissued and remastered both the debut and The Skull in deluxe cd/dvd editions.  I have them both and those are top-shelf reissues of the highest order.  The Skull featuring a full live show to boot, which was ripped right from a VHS tape – such a killer performance – I need to go re-watch, since there are no shows being played now.

Hammerheart has polished up these 4 albums quite nicely.  Regarding bonus content – unfortunately, there are none, which is a shame.  The remastering, on the other hand, is perfection.  Beautiful sound.  Crisp, clear, the heaviness of the dense guitars, especially on the first 2 albums, smack the living hell out of you.  The remastering for all of these was done by Toneshed Studio.  If you do not have any of these albums or reissues, you will want to dip into these, for the upgraded sound and beautiful restoration of the album covers.  Now c’mon Hammerheart go out and get the licensing to remaster Run to the Light!!!

Over the years the band have crafted their sound, becoming better musicians along the way, as seen on the excellent Point of View and Blind Follower demos in 1995 and 1997.  The 1999 debut album, Plague is monstrously heavy and was given a nice remix/remaster a few years ago and then in 2015 the Bow Down to Extinction sophomore album shredded the world into a bajillion pieces.  Well welcome 2020 with the third and arguably most vicious sounding TON album to date Ashes Where They Stood.  8 songs in a brisk 31 minutes that contain easy enough, mainly one word song titles, so you all can remember them in this informational overload day and age.

“Provocateur” starts with a nice isolated guitar riff, before bursting into a blast with Jeff leading the vocal fray, but the other gents lends some screams and grunts as well. The 54 second part has a monster groove, before a killer early 90’s era death metal beat comes in and then rips right into a faster segment. This is the tightest TON have sounded and the song is heavy and check out that rhythm section at the 1:45 part.  All the instruments coming together in a swelling groove which I can see a bunch of Lysol cleaning wipes hoarders just being devoured alive in a vat of boiling oil.  Some double pounding drums nearing the end and the song is ferocious with a capital F.  “Manzanar” is up next, having been a single  and has a nice little opening bass solo, right before the killer blast and alternating vocal styles.  I notice some technical aspects, which really never reared themselves on prior releases.  The technical and somewhat melodic riffing mixed in on this track, breaks some things up among the monster brutality.  This really is a more mature sounding TON and is a welcome addition.  Jeff eventually lets out an excellent growl and this song rips.

A few years ago Jeff approached me and asked if I would ever do guest vocals on a TON release and I told him I would be honored.  The Ohio death metal scene is near n dear to me and Jeff is a great friend who has always shown me hospitality and when on tour in the 90’s allowed us to stay at his place and he and his wife made us an awesome Italian mean.  I still remember the pasta and their homemade cheesy garlic bread.  Jeff hatched a really cool idea.  TON wrote an original song called “Defect” and the singer from Fully Consumed and myself would be doing the singing for the entire song.  Super wild.  I did all the lows, louder power-violence vocals and super long growls.  They paired nicely with the other singer, who has a higher register with his raspy vocals.  The song is terrifically heavy and it came out killer.  “Defect” was the 2019 single and is featured in the middle of this album.  Plenty of blasts, grooves and vocal patterns to land you in the rubber room.  I experimented a little with my vocals in some sections and overall super great to be able to collaborate with one of my favorite bands, still all these years later.  “Human War Machine” is the perfect title of a death metal song.  Immediately the song erupts into a monster heavy hitting blast beat and the drums are chest collapsing on this song.  Tumultuous grooves and the hard hitting rhythm section igniting fires, just like this album cover.  A little dissonant riffing at the 2.25 mid-paced part and again, a little something new TON throwing at us – keep doing it fellas.

The production on Ashes Where They Stood is loud and in your face.  The drums are pummeling and the instruments and Jeff’s bass is prominent.  Everything sounds great.  It’s also great to see the band throw in a little melody every so often, some different types of riffing and the album features their strongest rhythm section to date.  This has to do with TON playing so long together that they probably can write each other’s parts by now.  TON backs up their recordings live as well, putting on equally heavy shows and quite honestly this is true heaviness, at a fraction of the cost, of what some bigger bands pay on productions, still sounding not even a fraction like TON.  Please like their FB page, they’re also on Bandcamp, buy their merch and music.  They are one of the hardest working and longest underground death metal acts to this day.  Ashes Where They Stood is one of this years true heavy and best death metal albums.  Buy or Die!!

What does this have to do with the new album by Mountaineer, called Bloodletting? Well, a little. This band, featuring former members of Secrets of the Sky, have been genre tagged in multiple different ways. I have seen them listed as post-metal, sludge, doom, and pop. I made that last one up. Post metal used to be one of my favorite sub genres and I would be happy to give any new release with the tag at least a cursory glance. However, over the last year or two, I can’t recall any landmark releases. I enjoyed Cult of Luna’s latest, but it is quite long for my attention span. I’m not sure if I’ve grown out of it or maybe the sub-genre itself has gone stagnant. Either way, I am more than willing to see if Mountaineer has what it takes to pull me back in.

The very first track, “Blood of the Book,” takes a few minutes to get moving. It’s a nearly 7-minute song with a somber intro that includes choral vocals and a beautifully strummed guitar. The vocals get going about two minutes in. It’s at this point the music changes as well into a heavy, lurching doom riff. So far, 3 minutes into the first track, and we have choral vocals, screams, and passionate cleans. This track constantly evolves. It also gets this album off to a hell of a start. I hope Mountaineer can keep up this momentum.

Track 2 does its best to keep the momentum going. It does so by continuing the same type of riffing from its predecessor and mostly screamed vocals. A lead pops up near the end, which is somewhat buried beneath the vocals and the rest of the heavy instrumentation. When compared to the first song, it’s nowhere close, but gives one an idea where their head is.

When I continue to listen to the album, I keep picking standout songs. On the promo copy, there are 9 tracks, including “Still,” which is listed as a CD and digital bonus. I will say that track 8, “Ghost Story,” feels like the last song on the album. The music stops with about 30 seconds left in the song. During the first few listens, after a few moments of silence, I would check to see if the album was over, then “Still” kicks in. Of course, one can see “Ghost Story” was intended to be the closer. I do keep going back to thinking that, perhaps, the album could be a bit shorter. Perhaps a track could be cut. However, the last two tracks are fantastic (including the bonus), so what track would be removed? Honestly, the truth is none.

I will sum this up by saying that there are typically two types of “post metal.” There’s the more introspective variety, also known as the less heavy type. Although I will not claim to be an expert, I usually put Alcest in this category. Then, there’s the heavier end of the spectrum, which is where I would typically place Cult of Luna. This album is in the more introspective, less heavy side. That’s not an insult because it kills. In a time like this, we could all use an album with which we can relax. Will Bloodletting re-ignite my passion for post metal? Time will tell, but I have fallen under this album’s spell and if this type of deep, introspective post metal with mostly clean vocals is your type of thing, give it a chance, and I am willing to bet it will hypnotize you as well.

Firebride thrives in its rather straightforward and simplistic song-writing approach. Make no mistake, these are well crafted and tightly executed tunes, but Black Royal keep things uncomplicated, building each song upon massively heft and insanely infectious riffs and oodles of headbang-friendly grooves. There’s a lively death n’ roll feel to some of the songs and despite the eyebrow raising that tag may induce, here it’s a positive thing for listeners that are craving stomping, addictive metal without the need for flashy embellishments, technical overkill, or endless blasting. After all, there’s ample death metal out there catering for these attributes. It’s the rather simple, destructive and focused delivery that sings to me throughout Firebride.

Firebride opens with one of the stronger bursts I’ve heard in some time, setting the album in pummelling motion. Opening with delicate strings and calming melodies, “Coven” quickly unfurls in all its addictive, riff-driven glory, unveiling the clever and dramatic orchestral elements and Satanic themes prevalent throughout the album. Equally impactful duo of follow-up tunes, “Hail Yourself” and Pagan Saviour,” bring imposing heft and earworm hooks aplenty, forged with ironclad riffage, hoarse growls and rumbling grooves. At a compact 38 minutes, there’s little time wasted. Only short instrumental “313” could be considered filler, though it’s a decent acoustic breather which doesn’t overstay its welcome.

Performances are solid and inspired across the board. The urgent, feral growls of vocalist Riku Niemelä unleash rabidly addictive and largely decipherable vocal hooks. Meanwhile the rhythm section excels and holds down a rugged, groovy platform for guitarist Toni Majores to punch out A-grade, Stockholm-styled buzzsaw riffage, riddled with emotive sludge and doom influences, stirring melodies and bluesy swagger.  And if my earlier mention of an outstanding opening stretch indicated the album is frontloaded, the middle and back half stacks up remarkably well. The bluesy riffs and swagger of “The Reverend” is lively and crushing, “Firebride” is a riveting tune featuring seismic riffs and seething aggression, while closer “For the Dead Travel Fast” unfolds into a rumbling, doomy delight, beautifully adorned with an inspired female vocal. These little variables are what keeps Firebride from stagnating or becoming too predictable. The individuality of each song also holds the album in good stead regarding longevity and replay value.

Firebride is an outstanding early year highlight that is likely to stay in regular rotation. Don’t be fooled by the straightforward structures and riffs, Black Royal crafted an album with substance and character, delivering a ripping collection of bruising and infectious songs, which will not soon be forgotten. Putting their own creative and highly addictive stamp on tried and true old school death and doom values, Black Royal have honed their craft to release an album oozing with an abundance of sledgehammer grooves, killer riffs, and ridiculously catchy hooks.

Horn of the Rhino mixed with Pallbearer is a good reference point for Nixa, as its got a little more heft within the fuzzy moping tones, thought its not quite as depressive and has some buzzed out, sludgy- Deadbird elements as well. For me to enjoy this sort of doom, the vocals have to be spot on (i.e Horn of the Rhino’s Javier Gálvez), and the focal point of Nixa is Swedish vocalist, Valentin Mellström who nails the vocals. Powerful and emotional,  soaring but not to falsetto, and giving the material a wide array of moods, offsetting the more basic sludge throes.

The only thing really missing from the record is those intense moments of soul crushing music that truly moves you, as from the opening title track, the album’s 7 song, 38 minute run time plods by with ample, dreary fuzz ‘n’ lope, but never really tugs on the heartstrings like say, Pallbearer’s debut (i.e “An Offering of Grief”). “Destroyer” has a more mournful gait a couple of minutes in, “Heart of Serpents” has a nice melancholy lead solo and  closer “Restless Seer” comes close with a nice vocal melody in the verse, but it never comes close to truly making you open your wrists, but I’m not sure they are that kind of ‘true’ doom band.

Tracks like “Seed” and “The Mound” are more apt, with a steady slow pace that delivers the stout, doomy goods, but never gets too depressive. In all a solid record.

“Devoured” spews into existence in an airless vacuum of feedback and samples that sets the stage for a punk-blasted romp through a dead tree forest haunted by shrieking Norwegian demons.  It’s a runaway carriage led by skeletal horses with buzzing, subsonic riffs breaking their axles atop of plague-bitten d-beats and bass that festers beneath its own ugly blanket of distortion.  Despite the recently thawed flavor of the icy, no frills production both an unholy swell of loudness and frigid textures seep to the forefront of the music.  Devastating snares crest on distant blast beats while the rancid vocal debauchery wails in all of its shrill, epidermis scraping glory.  A breath-stealing, low-hung dirge riff brings in a begotten tinge of Celtic Frost and Winter as the song steamrolls any appearance of sunlight on the way to its hypothermic finale.  The triumphant mid-tempo guitar thrashings, steady rhythmic shuck and the brief melodic soloing that intros “Live Fast and Die” lends a powerful, chest-beating bravado to the rotten in the soul, screaming madness of the vocal/instrumental shakedowns.  It’s sludgy but so over-the-top in its delivery and instrumentation that I could feel my blood boiling with a pleasurable lust throughout each subsequent listen.  They keep the pacing deliberate on this one and never speed things up; the track’s second half is a slab of lardy, weighted blackness led by some front n’ center bass plunges that are so fat they’re like stapling a Christmas ham to a stuffed Thanksgiving turkey and trying to eat the whole fuckin’ mess inside of the song’s 3:32 runtime (without puking on your mother’s commemorative dinner plates, of course).

Harried, pulse-pounding blasts throw the early moments of “No Choice” off of a cliff into a bed of broken glass and ice-hewn stalagmites.  Riffs aren’t so much riffs as they are the sound of chainsaws felling huge oaks with basic rhythm strewn amongst the ear-bleeding saw noises.  A torrent of double-bass, blasts and punk-leaned smashing keeps the percussive presence constantly on the move with sheer speed reaching a nervous breakdown of stop/start feedback squalor.  “The Only Cure’s” noxious acapella sneer-a-thon lead-off gives way to another quickened swath cutter of a song that runs Hear Nothing, See Nothing, Say Nothing through the bone-chilling meatgrinder that is A Blaze in the Northern Sky.  The difference split is 50/50 down the line with blizzard blown tones freezing cold the frenetic, thrash-y hardcore lunges.  An ethereal, pulsating electronic loop and a singular droning synth back a truly haunting sample on “Quiet,” an intermission track with a surprising amount of worth and ghostly ambience.  Pieces such as this can often end up as throwaway material but there’s something about this one that makes it stick in the mind.  Ending composition “Hope is a Mistake” switches gears completely by unleashing a crumbling, plummeting swing riff that really tips the hat to Pale Misery’s great Louisiana lineage.  Clean guitars set the stage with a whopper of a melodic red herring; the calm thusly traded for a dipping, plodding wall of smoggy guitar-work that lumbers through and plunders the muddy bayou swamps for corpses, only surfacing for air when some harmonized licks quickly appear and then disappear.  Hammering, busy drumming that greases numerous throttling snare fills and heaving downer beats keeps the insanity lively while the bass flattens everything in its path with additional depravity lent by those accursed, cutthroat screams.

Pale Misery fuckin’ trampled me into dust with the abrasive quality of Black Candles and Gutter Scum.  Quantity is replaced by quality violence as the 6 tracks don’t overstay their welcome while providing enough variety to have me anxiously awaiting each one’s successive set of musical snakelike curves and swerves.  Though wretched black metal and oily crust punk are the main course, the utilization of doom-y downshifts, vile sludge muck and roaring thrash help this release stick out from a crowded pack…well-worth a few dedicated listens in my book.

The ripping, tearing tones and over the top riffing n’ screams of kick-off jam, “Quietus” is a fully loaded blast of audio shotgun shells straight to the spinal column.  Twin guitars dish out thrash-y, slow motion death rattles on one hand and scraggly noise signatures on the other while the drumming possesses enough power to crack railroad ties in half with a flick of its pinky finger.  Bass lines thicker and heavier than Satan’s thigh bone keep the chording simple; wrapping around the nihilistic anti-grooves with a suffocating squeeze that never allows for a moment’s breath.  From start to finish the concrete thick density never lets up as Gale treats every passage like a climax, with deafening impact achieved throughout each well-measured riff and bottomless vibration.  Detuned downer sludge, with some catchier elements and blistering post-punk melodicism, oozes from the open wound abandon of “We could have been gods” and its jagged, brute force, plate tectonic movements.  Saliva drips n’ sprays from the violent higher-pitched screams and mid-range roars as the Staph-infected distortion chews and gnaws its way to a rippling, watery, surprisingly musical infection that takes a second to indulge in some clean Floyidian psychedelic meditation.  Enjoy the spaciousness because the grimy walls close in and crush your head when the sludge gavel drops for a final sentence of life in prison riffage during the song’s tense finish.

Cities fall into sinkholes on the canyon creating quake of “The Great Gorge,” perhaps my favorite track on the release.  Booming toms lead in a druggy death march of hazy, phase-y free-form chord repetitions.  Harmonized, Eastern-tinged drudges give way to capsized open melodies whose vague prettiness is a biting juxtaposition to the criminally heavy rhythmic dirges and heathen verbal abuse.  Scab tickling minor key guitar work provides some tonal differentiation from all of the low slung, bottom-leaned bludgeon with a few of the licks having this warped, 70s prog sound pouring out of their demented demeanors.  The lavish, quick-handed tom/snare fill whooshes and slappin’ cymbal sprinkles bolster the track and its doom groovin’, dual guitar interplay into the next stratosphere for a song that truly ends with a bang.   At 3:41 in length the confrontational attitude and pushy sludge eruptions of the volcanic “Of Growth & Insignificance” conjure up one of the album’s most straightforward rumblers.  The riffing never goes full on Sabbath but couples the brass-knuckle, punk sludge battery of bands like 16 and Ringwurm’s Domesticate It to the girders of the as far as the eye can see ethereal doom expansion of YOB and Deadbird.

It’s on “Kingdom Come” that Gale finally says fuck the cosmos and go off into the kind of big, blues-burnt riffs and Sabbathisms that can be identified as pure sludge/doom and nothing else.  There’s still some inventive intertwining of the crystalline twin guitars that adds progressive, spacey flair to the mostly human slaying, swine slopping power chords, vile and sometimes doubled-up vocal carnage and putrid rhythmic toxicity.  An extensive, droning solo trades in complexity for pared down melody in the song’s second half with some undistorted guitar/bass melodies adding further little tricks and offshoots to the band’s unique desert half pipe.  The rolling snare entrance and gleaming, nearly King Crimson/Rush toned guitars that entrance “Harvest” conjure a 70s thinking cap journey that’s paint-peeled into oblivion when burly, roid-pumped riffs and whale munching vocal hollers bring the heaviness and nothing but.  Trembling, paranoia-packed, blackened noise guitar interludes and gracious melodic trip-outs interject musicality and variety into the outfit’s frequent brushes with death’s finality in this tune, as the band ups the acerbic fury on their way to a lengthy instrumental/outro jamfest that head nods its way into the sun via a hypnotic riff/rhythm shakedown that rides all the way past Hell’s horizon line.

It’s a shame Gale are calling it quits with this album but they say if you’re going to go out with one last statement, make it a masterpiece.  This Self-Titled is truly a modern sludge masterpiece that manages to merge the genre’s necessary filth with more tuneful aspects while somehow avoiding the sometimes cheesy, same-y “We all sound exactly like Baroness/Mastodon” sludge/prog traits of every similar minded band since the aforementioned pair’s respective inceptions.  I actually don’t dislike either band but if you’re going to call yourself a sludge band, go for the fuckin’ gusto somewhere at least.  I’m thoroughly fucking thrilled with this record and I think fans of early Neurosis, Rwake, Deadbird, YOB, Brainoil, Samothrace, Asunder, The Iron Tongue, Shitfire and Black Hell’s Deformers of the Universe will get more than their money’s worth here.

Opener “Roidhead Swindler” offers up illegally juiced muscle in the form of dissonant, airplane glue doom guitar figures and wormy mid-tempo grooves that ram Grief’s bipolar escapades into Clagg and Molehill’s forceful, more infectious than the clap downer blues.  They never remain in one mode for long as the song catches air on Marty’s highspeed but minimally chorded hardcore punk damage.  The rhythm section lays down an audio minefield comprised of Jason’s taut, dry drumming full of lightning fast snare fills and d-beat thrashing as bassist Gary maintains a limber, audible stack of his own caustic riff detonations (sending the tune collapsing into a double-bass doom death curmudgeon at the 2:52 mark).  Raw, dirty dealing dual vocals from Marty and Gary run an apocalyptic gamut between bloody red screams caught somewhere in the midst of classic crust punk and black metal sneering with some clogged commode death-y growls completing the rest of the sewage smeared picture.  Throughout I’m reminded of the most lauded and nasty sludge bands the genre has seen in addition to twitchier outfits like Goatsblood, Dystopia, Leechmilk, His Hero is Gone, Cruevo and Tragedy.  “Hexagon” unloads a squelching mash-up of feedback and ruthless hardcore punk riffing in its early going that derails into a trainwreck of workmanlike blasts and sawblade guitars with the double-team vocals going off at the same time.  Old school UK crust is all over this one until bulldozing bluesy elements take over the entire trio of musicians with some brief bits of classic rockin’ licks even making an appearance before frantic grindcore trauma returns for the final lights out.

Bloated, overdriven sleaze grooves make up the meat of “Dios Mios’” molten romp.  There’s a crunchy, Texas-bred shuffle beat happening on the snare at all times as the riffing dips heavily into the 4/4 boogie trough.  Scathing vocal screeches permeate the verses, saving most of the deathier stuff for the choruses and the chugging, palm-muted bridge section.  Even the crustier punk bursts are drenched in hard rock’s anchoring weight.  “Punk Rock Ruined my Life’s” bashing grind action is peppered by rabid cymbal clinks and teetering blasts that consistently swerve into Swedish/UK d-beat rampage.  Even the guitar work has a penchant for vintage power-chord charges that were very much the tools utilized by the thrash and hardcore punk elders since the beginning of time.  This tune is paired well with the equally brief chaos of “Bad Times’” renegade ascending/descending riffs that revolve around a simple but effective set of chord changes as the rhythm section provides a galloping second half full of choppy double-bass lurches and ocean deep bass lines.  Closer “Uncouth” is far and away the record’s longest jam at over 7 minutes in length.  Unbridled sludge disgust is laced from front to back cover but breaks off free-form into feedback and Human Remains-esque jazzy blasting that intersperses the vomiting heaviness with playful freak outs that ratchet-up to mincing, crust heavy circle pit surgery.  It will get your neck working so hard you’ll be in danger of unhinging it from your spine.  Ritualistic tom-tom pounding and sparse atmospheric guitar melodies jangle out the track’s second half with some effective use of shade and texture for a mountainous piece of fully formed metallurgy.

Upside of Sick should be a delight to all crust, grind and sludge heads out there.  It adheres to tradition in all of the right places then jettisons standard procedure whenever it damn well pleases.  I’ve enjoyed all of Musket Hawk’s previous releases but this one is hitting me harder and heavier than the rest of the discography by elevating the band’s sound to a genre apex full of treacherous twists and turns.  This is really worth a pick-up if this type of terror is your personal cup of Datura tea.

Fuzzy, hard-charging and drooling equal amounts of blood n’ beer on its breath opener “Sons of Belial” plows ahead like Lemmy and the gang run through Kyuss’ ample fuzz-scorched bass amps for guitars motifs and lots of catchy, punk-y churns and clattering drums.  It’s got some Precambrian metal influences for certain and the smoke-burnt, soaring vocal melodies of guitarist/singer Craig Peura glide and wail in all of the right places.  He keeps lofty and wavering on his big melodic pipes as the music keeps energetic and focused all around him.  A barrage of sloth-y, sharper than glass shards riffing sends this track out on a huge downtempo downshift.  The gnarly, ground pounding grooves of “Death March” are a lot sludgier than a lot of the hard rockers going these days as Paul Gaughran wraps around the guitars like a python and Patrick Queenan sinks into a head-nodding hypno-beat.  Weird twinges of 70s melody cut through cleanly but always stay ragged n’ raw…that Blue Cheer power trio, louder than the lord feel coming on strong with catchy and crystalline songwriting maintaining equal footing alongside sheer volume.  The solos are sonic signals caught from alien space ships with shrill, high-end notes bubbling to the forefront of this burly brew.

“Lightworker” is an uptempo favorite with some gutsy, melody-heavy blues’ styled vocals exercising a hard handslap across the face as the guitar kicks into a greasy, easy ridin’ swing that practically never stops or lets up from the very first note.  There’s plenty of killer fills and tricky cymbal flash cropping up all over the place as these three cowboys ride the groove across the galaxy.  It rolls, rocks and hits every curve like a tuned up vintage Mustang.  Spaciously gracious clean instrumentation permeates the mystical psyche outs of “Targeted.”  An effortless emphasis on propulsion is delivered by the rhythm section even when working within a quiet template and those hearty vocal lamentations lend meat to musicality as heavy, grinding guitar damage is practically waiting in the wings the entire time.  Despite the sprawling intentions, they pack all of these nuances into an under 5 minute track that never overstays its welcome with a special nod given to the slick cymbal ghosting and acrobatic fill-work of Queenan.  There’s some slavering spit and snarl to the guitar figures on “Till you come down’s” ratty riff squalor.  Peura keeps dirt under his nails for every axe part, so that the sheer amount of catchy power chords always retains a primal power as his howling singing towers above the band’s Earthy landscapes.  Everyone is playing as hard and with as much gut and grit as humanly possible.  “Hammerburn” has a filthy bass line and staccato drum intro that’s got more than a few whiffs of punk and Motörhead polluting its air.  Tonally it’s completely in those realms though the weird shifting tempos sound like something off of the first Queens of the Stone Age record.

Of all the good tunes on this record “Sky People’s Son” is probably my favorite.  It’s got an exotic guitar arrangement enriched by the deep diving bass lines and as hooky n’ infectious as the tune is there’s an aggressive bent to the way the track unfolds.  The vocals start out low and boiling but soon rise to a levitating wail that’s certainly coming from the tip of the toes.  I could see Spirit Caravan fans getting behind this one.  Though an overused word like most words out there; soulful is certainly on the right track of describing this monster of a jam.  A distorted, white-washed bass/guitar noise drone and pounding, circular drum patterns in the key of Neurosis give the grumbling n’ rumbling “Fire in the Sky” a feeling of immeasurable head trauma impact.  There’s some of that sludgy, bigger than life hardcore feel on display here.  I’d say Sam Black Church channeled through a busted transistor of heaving, city stomping doom.  The scraping minor-key interjections peel both skin and pavement with their squealing, ear-squelching, noised-out insanity as solos get close to emerging but never fully formulate.  Closer “I Want to Leave” is the album’s only purely quiet jam and it’s touching near falsetto vocalizations and sparse, ethereal instrumental accoutrements play very well with the elements of Pink Floyd and Hawkwind used as the raw materials.

An excellent second album is what Sundrifter delivers here and one that I feel improves on the debut in every possible way.  Fans of hard rock that gets as stomping as some good classic metal or flies to far-off mental vistas is what’s on offer and they are easily at the top of the pack of bands playing this kind of material.  Not only is the music great but I really dug Craig’s vocals throughout and you can tell there’s a lot of thought and passion going into every melody without eschewing some pure, roughhewn lung power along the way.  Visitations is also even more enjoyable as a front to back listen, so definitely set aside some time and let the arc unfold.

The mechanical machinations of the title-track bring a lockstep, imploding set of bass tones that bare resemblance to a sonic sliming of Godflesh writing in the key of Bauhaus.  It’s a vast expanse of regular bass, synthetic bass and the bass VI creeping like fog across a city left ruined by glacial drum bombs and mournful vocals that have plenty of presence and power behind ‘em.  You can feel this music slowly making rotations that mimic the Earth’s axis.  Singer/dual bassman Chvasta whips up some of his best singing to date with those quicksand sunk lows rising into some howls that go a few more ratchets up his register than usual.  Lots of bubbling tom/kick deviance on the drumfront gives the song a forward hypnotic progression that might be slow and decaying but is always driving forth towards a summit and never hanging out completely in the valley.  Avril Che’s baroque texture applications through keys and synthetic manipulations provide a lot of thick gristle to the music though she’s rising up just when needed into a scalding, minor-side of moon melody.  It’s almost as if the band put the album’s centerpiece at the front of the EP and decided to really kick some shifty sand in your eyes later down the line.

That first oddball kick in the snoot comes with “Ender’s” creation of a damn near groovy riff gargantuan.  This could be their punk rock tune.  It shakes up some dust-storm tempos and hooks your head in a noose of melodic majesty akin to Hum, Shiner, Menthol and other 90s greats.  Gorgeous keyboard hymnals weld themselves to steel constructed towers of big, bendy riffage sportin’ a spliff in the side of its mouth for decoration.  It needs be noted that Dan Dixon did an absolutely fabulous job on the recording here (he’s worked on records by Whores and Allen Epley’s post Shiner magic wielders The Life and Times).  I’m diggin’ hearing Dead Register work in a succinct, semi-uptempo format such as this.  They really pull it off without losing any of their deliciously bleak textures.  “Heresy” is a bit longer but full of glistening guitar sounding fugues, a loping bass line, touching back-up vocals by Che and Danny Ryann’s thunderclap drum patterns.  There’s a bone-crunching slowdown later in the track with some of Chvasta’s most harrowing vocal melodies on the record found in their natural habitat.  The whole thing is a mix of classic 80s deathrock standards, 90s space heavies, good n’ crunching English thunder and some of the reflective melodies of Katatonia or Vantage-era Fall of the Leafe.  A cover of the Dead and Gone classic “Blood from a Ghost” transplants the scrappy anger of the original for a darker, dread induced vibe that’s certainly a few more shades bottom heavy than the higher-end original.  The anger’s still there but cooked in a frying pan of brooding, rumbly weight that’s a product of that unique Dead Register multi-bass sound.  Closer “Monochrome” is also a surprise ‘cause it has some nasty Am-Rep screech-pain mixed with Godflesh tonalities as covered by The Cure.  There is also some sweeping Norwegian ballast happening and rhythmic rushes that also fly out of left field like a silver bullet on a holy mission.  Black metal is talkin’ turkey at the table for certain.  It’s a great track and one of the most diverse pieces in the band’s roster thus far.

Captive continues to set a very high bar for Dead Register.  Anyone into these types of sounds should grab this one and its full-length predecessor Fiber, IMMEDIATELY.  You get great songwriting, killer instrumental layering/arrangements, deeply moving vocals and some nightblack heaviness with a pop aesthetic that actually works towards the music’s advantage and never takes away from it.  This is a one a kind EP by a one of a kind band…give it a dedicated ear.

“Invoking the Demigod” is a rancid 10+ minute lead-off that summons some wispy, gallows bound atmosphere in the form of humming amps, flame-scorched drones and soundtrack-weened textures that soak up an S & M dungeon floor with a sponge.  The double-guitar terror puts these guys in the red from the get-go; dueling axemen Varun Patil and Ashish Dharkar erecting a vague groove into a temple of Grief-stricken sickness.  Vineet Nair’s drum strikes come from way, way back as he unleashes frustration beyond his years upon the toms that creates a lusty interplay with Harshad Bagwat’s Lyme-infected bass plods.  Everything is the sound of a Cronenberg flesh terror film set to the violently abscessed, tooth spittin’ of sludge played as it should be.  Tabish Khidir’s screams are hostile to say the fuckin’ least and he’s joined by two of the members providing backing shouts and screams.  The song tries to pick up and run into some shambling hardcore surges propelled by a sternum-shattering kick drum and neck-snapping snare fills but the tune’s prosthetic leg comes off and the boys double back into a filthy doom life/death struggle.  For being a 10 minute opener the band switches things up a decent amount, adding some molasses mired guitar harmonies and even a couple overly engorged thrash riffs towards the track’s labyrinth lost ending charge. 

I hope “Montezuma’s Revenge” was named for severe stomach illness.  My grandfolks passed on that howler at a young age and it’s a great sludge song title.  An acrobatic, polyrhythmic shuffle beat comprised of steady double-bass and caustic snares give the song a sprint runner with a smoker’s lung onslaught that is juxtaposed nicely by chunking, palm-muted sludgy thrash riffs that sound as if Slayer got a snoot full from dad’s liquor cabinet.  Mystic doom grooves enter the fray and thanks to the dual guitars the end result sounds like Crowbar wandering the Sahara in search of an oasis that doesn’t exist.  The classic reverse-time tempo setting by the rhythm section is pure sludge through and through while the vocals never waver from their sneering conviction.  I hate coming off as cheesy but you can really feel the Eastern influence in this.  Even when the band is launching grooves like a submarine torpedoing the shit out of a battleship’s hull, there’s a distinctly different feel here that gives Dirge a unique identity when stacked up against a crowded pack of peers.  This classiness even seeps out of the extensive lead and solo bits as they sound distinctly different from say American or UK based sludge lords. “Swamp of Blood” embellishes its title with NOLA-fried Eyehategod carnage pumping its veins to the popping point on a fatal mixture of downers and anabolic steroids.  This is the most blatantly blues-bloodied jam on the record as it devilishly repeats its main riffs.  Slobbering screams narrate this septic sermon; the whole affair greased in grime via barrel-chested bass grooves applying tectonic pressure while the drumming throws in some tricky fill/roll flashes that keep things busy even when the music is at its most belligerently dogged.  The grooves change-up just when you need it most and beyond the 5 minute marker washes of feedback-addled, heavily treated guitars emit signals from the deepest cavern that wind around in a Blood Farmers’ 70s psychedelic, FX-pedal saturated fashion     

“The Dilemma” is a melancholic mood break of acoustic guitars that conjures a multi-faceted instrumental respite overflowing with baroquely classical beauty.  There couldn’t be a better set-up for the malignant, rat-mouthed reproach of “La Malinche” with its hallucinatory, God dwarfing riffs, and transcendental yet brief harmony guitars (think Rwake circa Hell is a Door to the Sun when they’d hit those fucked up Maiden/Priest dashes).  The biggest slug slop guitars are turned into far more than just basic “groove” or “swing” as they construct their own private Tower of Babel to the heavens made entirely from human bones.  Back-breaking stops/starts on the drums know when to keep a beat and know when to lay into the hot stuff; stepping out of the slime pocket with reckless fills as the bass sews every unsavory piece together.  It feels as if there’s a harrowing keyboard hum lingering in the distance here and whether or not it’s another track of guitar hidden deep in the background or the genuine article it enhances the hammering combination of forked-tongue vocal screams, mesmerizing leads/solos (especially see the fireball lick at 5:50 for some real deal metal mayhem) and ironclad riffs to an entirely higher consciousness.  The album ends on an incendiary note thanks to the scurrying rush of “Corpse of Cortez.”  Most sludge bands would place a crawling monster at the end of a record but Dirge surprises with their fastest thrasher yet.  Don’t get me wrong, this song does plenty of crawlin’ but it isn’t afraid to chainsaw your ass in two with its cutting speed-ups.  A tsunami of sledgehammer thrash riffs, crusty punk attitude (especially coming out in the bass lines and vocals) and dizzying double-bass patterns kick your soul into a pit of human waste before the music twists into a writhing mass of slow decay guitars that once again harness those astral harmony licks to great effect.  Showcasing their impressive range the music sinks off into a placid pasture of clean spacious guitar-work, restrained leads that slowly rise in distortion/intensity and cautious rhythm work.  The guitars eventually reach a peak of soaring majesty hellbent on taking you to the top of the tallest mountain, then throwing you mercilessly to the ground with a death rattle ending of sheer sludgy, thrashin’ might. 

Ah Puch is a must have for diehard sludge/doom mavens and the exciting, innovative touches stitched into the music might have some appeal to extreme metal fans all over the map as well.  I came for the sludgy heaviness and got more than I bargained for but I didn’t expect my journey to have segments that reminded me of Ride the Lightning alongside some serious texture/tempo shifts in general.  I can say that if you’re a fan of this kind of stuff and can get your jollies wrapped around on the experimental side of the style, Dirge is going to be a really welcome band to add to your archives.           

“Boston Jugular” rips into a seething pure punk guitar blast set atop a NY style hardcore drum attack that merges with the Swedish d-beat.  Merkle’s wailing holler steamrolls into a strangulated battle cry as the midsection of the song shifts into a stop/start sludgy chug that ends up spilling over into a rumbling n’ grinding, thrash-y finale.  Scott’s bass is yet another secret weapon in the mix; being clearly audible the entire track and providing low slung burst fire throughout.  His viscous, mucous-thick tone violently shoves forward the pissed-off gang vocal trades heard during “Progression Aggression” when the guitars drop out noticeably.  Guitarists Mike and Gerry then kick back into overdrive with a rocked-out “Fast” Eddie bent before the music goes tumbling down into a gutterball of crushing, teeth-gnashed sludge.  John’s lightning fast lil’ rolls on the toms and steady beats keep this thing from unhinging, as his smacks are always right on the mark; crashing into your chin with pure brass.

One of my favorite tracks on the EP, “Lie where you stand” frequently balances knuckle-dragging, slow n’ sleazy hatred with faster adrenaline-soaked riffs that eventually culminate in some noisy lead guitar bits.  The ripping, punching vocal insanity and high-speed riff rape of “Closer to the Grave” is also a real smasher that engages in some noisy breaks that bring in a tinge of Am-Rep atmosphere that mix up the action nicely but doesn’t linger as the music erupts in raging hardcore punk fury thereafter.  Musical auras keep swapping at will until an eerie, white-noise squall of guitars appears that furthers the noise-rock visages alongside some bass grooves pumped full of hogfat.  Manic drumming keeps heavy on the taut snare fills in order to maintain plenty of catchy abrasion.  Closer “Do More, Say Less” is a classic piece of crusty hardcore punk if there ever was one, right down to its grumbling lead bass part, multi-headed vocal madness and infectious paint peeler riffs.

The Great Lie loves you up fast and leaves you wet on this EP.  Each of the 5 tracks has plenty of individual strengths that congeal into a dense and impactful whole.  The songwriting is memorable and I love the strained, pained yelling vocals from Kerry (it’s definitely towards the more extreme end of his work in JWB).  Crusty punk and hardcore nuts should certainly give this one a try…I know I dug it plenty.