Pyrrhon - Running Out of Skin (EP) [2016]

In an alternative universe, I could have actually enjoyed records like The Mother of Virtues or Vermiis, records by two bands which pop up on occasion in my reviews since I entertain the prospect of teasing their most avid followers and acolytes by readdressing how artificially elevated they seem to be, especially when compared the bee knee's of the technical/avantgarde death metal spectrum, Canada's masterful Gorguts. That said, Pyrrhon's Growth Without End EP which came out last year was a refreshing coat of paint that fractured their immensely busybody stream of waxed, alienating notes and chord fusions into something more in tune with my ears, even though it still retained its caustic freakishness. Come 2016, I was excited to get my hands on their latest opus, Running Out of Skin, which turned out to be something less of an opus and rather a flimsy filler that obeyed the law of its titular maxim more than anything. Crafty and deracinating as these gentleman are in their approach, there is a level of versatility on this EP that I simply found unnerving, spin after spin.

And unnerving not in the most positive sense. Firstly, Pyrrhon are beyond doubt inaccessible, a feat they've already proven wit 2014's Mother of Virtues, but while complexity is certainly a characteristic, the real asset of their craft the cauterizing, unfazed attack of the guitars, the insomniac lying wait behind the thickset of instruments. Nevertheless, one reason for me abjuring this 16-minute EP is not it's dense focus on intricacy and avowed inaccessibility; it's the band's inability to employ little else that cultivates captivating musical experience. Let's take a look. ''Statistic Singular'', the opener and longest track here, broils with tense, discordant chords that weave into each other in a seeming mess, a characteristic choppy, bass-driven rhythm guitar driving a grotesque sort of groove beat while the lead guitars mingles with the fringes of utter ear-razing frippery: the intended effect IS alienation, but I'm too busy either scratching my head over what the hell is happening or waiting for a hook to give a damn about their skill. I profess: I do enjoy the simpler, plainer things in life, but the track absolutely lacks any momentum to engross anyone to a satisfying degree. As the same rule sadly applies to the rest of the disc, the quartet has apparently invested more time in attempting to emulate the philosophy of their half-sober practice sessions that actually filing any sensible flourish into the music.

But hell, if you're still pleading 'that's the whole point of the music, to sound dissonant'', be my guest. The guitar tone is unruly and boring, not a major deviation from the industrial grind of their previous records but nonetheless a degree more downtrodden, sharp high-end notes cutting at your eardrums like tiny bacteria with rusted, nail-sized cleavers hacking away in unkempt bliss.I actually enjoyed the vocals on here, though, perhaps the only single attribute that preserved some of that vile, cantankerous timbre I so loved on their previous outings - thankfully some things never change. There's something to be understood here if the best song on the whole disc is a cover of Death's ''Crystal Mountain'', surprisingly well applied into the individual, splenetic science which Pyrrhon has constructed on its own, - complete with both thicker and raspier variations on Schuldiner's voice plus tingling, cyborgian lead sections - and that's Running Out of Skin feels more like a piece of audio commitment fit for donation to poverty-stricken heshers in need, and even then I imagine a good many people wouldn't waste much tine before dumping it into the CD heap. Certainly not a 'terrible' effort by any means, but I felt that in between the dense interplay of meaningless notes and riffs some more substance would have been added, something which I hope the band will seek out to improve on their next full-length. That ''Crystal Mountain'' though.

Highlights:
Statistic Singular

Rating: 52%

Pyrrhon - Growth Without End (EP) [2015]

I could never feign to hide my affliction with most bands nowadays practicing the more modern, and more some reason more enticing ordeals of death metal, like those of Ulcerate, most post-2000 Immolation, Wormed, Fleshgod Apocalypse, or even the New York quartet Pyrrhon until this point in their career (although I have enjoyed perhaps a handful of releases in the medium) simply because much of this technically-infused, dissonant death metal feels as gratifying and appealing to me as a basket full of camel dung, and not even the pasty kind of dung, at that. That Pyrrhon underwent some inexplicable epiphany after their lukewarm ''The Mother of Virtues'', which was likewise greeted with praise and hype, seems unreasonable to me, since their latest EP ''Growth Without End'' does not seem like a huge deviation from the cancerous and bowels-out jingle of its predecessor, yet it simultaneously surprises me that the four piece could jump so far in between two chronologically very close recordings, ripping open the entrails of quality and fastidiously backing down from the oversize proportions of the full-length into a sort of formulaic greatness that translates into memorability and good song-writing, not unlike the recent EP by Ketha which I enjoyed so much.

Granted, Pyrrhon still panders to the same audience as before, but if anything with this EP they've gained new listeners, myself included. For sure, I never thought ''The Mother of Virtues'' quite felt like a godawful abortion the same way some other albums in the field did, but it's also safe to assume it will never pique my attention the way this EP did. Imagine those placid, germ-ridden excesses of afterbirth trimmed and truncated carefully, refined and polished until the work at hand still resembles the fetid grotesqueness of the initial product, but far clearer around edges, sans the overloaded carton covering that was weighing both itself and the listener's attention span down: that's ''Growth Without End''. The EP unfolds with ''Cancer Mantra'' and the band wastes no time getting to the fucking point, exploding with bombastic, wacky chords and disjointed rhythmic sways that sound unlike anything I've quite heard before, laden with dark, chaotic deliciousness. This isn't exactly the industrial and eccentric parade I discovered on Ketha's latest EP, because each musician is keeping his instrument closely intact, with little room for experimentation. That said, so much is going on here that I find it difficult not to dub this experimental. The guitars are absolutely preposterous and monstrous, and giving them props would be insulting because they've loaded the EP with so many unhinged, jagged riffs within just 15 minutes that it's nothing short of outstanding, but their discordance and the odd harmonies produced are also excellent in shaping the atmosphere, so much, in fact, that I'd easily equate pretty much any of the 5 brief songs here to a Deathspell Omega under the influence of Gorguts or Ulcerate.

The drums are absolutely ballistic, unpredictable, but at the same time sporadic so you're getting more of a great jazzy vibe rather than a pointless clangor of cymbals, toms and snares. The vocals, of course, deserve a mention here, since they can seamlessly shift between deep Immolation-esque growls and more rampant punk/hardcore inflections, like on ''Cancer Mantra'', to a timbre that lies in between the two, some underlying inherent evil seeping through the clot of a complex, mercurial cellular expanse, which, like the unpredictable instrumentation keeps changing, resurfacing and morphing as though in a rehearsal. Seriously, ''Growth Without End'' is not for the weak. The strength of the songs lie in their brevity, with the longest track (''Turing's Revenge'') being about 4 and a half minutes, and the shortest two, at 2 minutes and 1 and a half  minute respectively, being so concise that I couldn't help filter them through my unsuspecting auditory system over and over until my ears were in tatters. Everything here is so damn acrobatic and yet muscular that it leaves nothing behind. Sure, I could have supplanted some of the completely disorganized chord swells like those toward the end of ''Turing's Revenge'' for something equally captivating and energized as the other songs on the EP, but I'm more than willing to forgive a few stains on a 15-minute listen that already struck home far and wide, destroying my expectations. So much, in fact, that now I'm willing to give their full-length a second chance. Even the lyrics are pure gold, concerning various subjects, from history to mental deterioration, and they help tie up ''Growth Without End'' into the perfect cradle of malice to which belongs, fostered by oozing depravity and cancerous carbuncles, until, I hope, they all implode and give birth to something of even greater stature. Well done.

Highlights:
Cancer Mantra
Forget Yourself
The Mass

Rating: 85%

Ketha - #​!​%​16​.​7 (Ep) [2015]

I've not ventured as far deep into this Ep as to understand the meaning behind its affably ungrammatical title, or the artistic nihilism behind the geometric anomaly of the cover art, a full-fledged banner of abstruse, almost kaleidoscopic triangles painted chrome-metal black, but judging by the nightmarish and unique penumbra offered by the music itself, I imagine there is some sort of vague, even philosophical statement about the conceptual preferences of these unfrazed Poles which have come to produce the second most inventive metal experience I've heard thus far in 2015 (first place goes to Solefald's latest). Certainly when you thought you couldn't devote another second to anything Meshuggah-related, these Poles come to seize the day with music more irrationally addictive than the title itself, a masterful performance straddling the straits of death, progressive, avatgarde, jazz, groove and 'math' metal for a price that's cheaper than a pack of cigarettes (€2, yo!) and a run-time that'll be over before you've even had your third fag.

Grooves. With a capital fucking 'G'. Ketha's got 'em, and they're not afraid to use the methodical precision of surgical math metal impetus is certainly immensely riveting, as they're played with spectacular staccato grooves during some of the more percussive moments of the Ep, something of a progressive metal fixation, or just on a more atmospheric basis when they're hoovering above the vocals. Songs like ''Multiverse'' or ''K-boom'' explode with such incendiary tempo patterns and hooking chords and mutes that they make comparisons to Meshuggah at once irresistible and equally difficult because the momentum here is something far more avantgarde in nature. The slugfest of rhythm guitars and bedecked with spiraling, dizzying segments of queer melody and effect-laden lead guitars, but there is an even more compelling feast of sounds and atmospherics manifested through the saxophones which blare vociferously throughout the Ep. The command of the sax over the groundwork is just huge; there is more to them than just arbitrary appearances like on a lot records as they display clear pungency for the majority of the disk, providing some of the best jazzy dissonance you'll hear anytime.

Guitar effects are certainly high in supply, with anything from the convulsive wah-wahs of ''Airdag'' to the fading, algebraic lead riff of the 36 second track ''3C 273'', but pianos, electronic influences, sheer industrialized punishment, saxes, rowdy radio voice-overs and trumpets are exerted at such rates of variety and unabashed playfulness that the Ep reaches Mr. Bungle levels of eccentricity, or CSSABA levels of tension, and that's no easy feat. The tracks are ridiculously short, the longest one being some two and a half minutes and the others ranging typically below the 1-minute mark, and they flow into each other like a meticulously adjoined potpourri of musical freakishness. And yet what a well-rounded offering it is... vocalist Maciej Janas appears occasionally, and harnesses the power of both deep death metal growls and some more distinguished, individual inflections that disperse themselves across the record at his will. And if you're asking about the drums; they're equally impressive, with enough fills and tenacity as any high-brow jazz performance.

12 tracks, each unique, and it's only fucking fault that it's too damn short. And like all other beautiful things, ''#​!​%​16​.​7'' ends up biting its tail much too prematurely. Forget any other musical reservation you've made in recent times and purchase this, since your planned purchases are likely to be dross anyway. Tension. Trauma. Unprecedented, wallowing Lovecraftian evil in the form of the architectural aberrations witnessed by Arctic explorers in At The Mountains of Madness. Ketha don't care if you like Meshuggah or not, and they care less about your lighthearted opinions. There is evil abound; our only reconciliation is to fight evil with evil.

Highlights:
K-boom
Multiverse
The Sounderiad
Crink Crank


Rating: 88%

Deus Ignotus - Procession of an Old Religion [2014] (EP)

In all its competition and tumultuous tussle I think the black metal market is having as much problem as that of death metal. It appears that the exact thing these bands want you to do is to lock yourself up in some dilapidated attic, click play, and let your headphones resonate until blood starts to come out of your fucking ears... not and entirely appealing idea. You'd think that, being from Greece, Deus Ignotus would actually have the slight dignity to keep true to the Helenic mysticism of its forefathers Rotting Christ, Necromantia and Varathron, but no - this is a group that would rather exploit a more worldly, better-recognized sound instead of interpreting traditional motives; offering a sound that's not necessarily boring and tread down countless time but failing in consistency and originality what its forebears previously achieved with their ambitious trademarks.

In all truth, it's hard to put Deus Ignotus strictly into one category of black metal. Most of the time I think the tropes of bestial, chaotic war metal a la Blasphemy, Proclamation and Archgoat, even with a little of bit of Inquisition and modern Rotting Christ here and there, but, as if to show how untrammeled their sound is, there's also a consequent worship of more simple black metal which should bring 90's Scandinavian sensibilities to mind. Sound like interesting? Well, I can't entirely agree if you do. Yes, Deus Ignotus does cram in enough dissonance and visceral ugliness to make black metal seem nearly as primordial as something out of its formative years, and yes, the sound is fairly well-produced if not wholly professional, but that's were the line comes to an end. It's just repetitive procedure of chords which work their through the filth of the guitars that sometimes seeps into doom-like paces and sometimes proceeds with the same unbridled vein. And the vocals, to my dismay, don't offer any sort of inexhaustible brilliance - just imagine your typical death metal growls sauntering through an icy Norwegian forest...

And yeah, I actually did have fairly high expectations for this EP, for no reason. I think it's one of those inexplicable fits of sudden expectancy that every avid music fan or reviewer has every now and then, that insurmountable - if momentary - hope that a random discovery will actually turn out to be good - no, great. And the fact that I found the excellent, terrifying intro more intriguing than anything else the EP had to offer makes my sudden apprehensiveness seem like a bitter tragedy. Hell, even the hackneyed, allegedly ''orthodox'' song titles like ''Seven Tongue Enrapturement'' or ''Blood of the Apostles'' managed to compel my attention by means of seducing a metalhead's 12-year-old self with the uncanny and perverse hyperbole jutting right out of the titles; and to think, a 12-year-old yet unexposed to ''Fallen Angel of Death'', ''Welcome To Hell'' or ''Reign In Blood'' might have been considerable enamored by this little snippet of blasphemous noise... Cutting it short on the poor assumptions, I definitely don't think ''Procession of an Old Religion'' is ''bad'', but, as its title might suggest with startling accuracy, it's pretty much nothing more than a dissection and reassessment of traditional black metal with a lot of black/death sentimentality. For a few spins, it's cool, but you'll start to feel as literal part of a procession once you start spinning it more than the recommended dosage.

Highlights:
Dogmatheist
Putrid Empire

Rating: 65%

Bloodway - Sunstone Voyager and the Clandestine Horizon (EP) [2014]

Over the last few years, I, Voidhanger Records has been the cultivator of a splendid array of underground releases; for a label so unknown to the majority of the metal communion, the gamut of their signings is incredibly extensive, ranging from proggy psychedelia, to doom, to atmospheric black metal and old school death metal - they've literally built up a pantheon of underground extremities which have both the sparsity and quality that would unquestionably attract more than just a few etherized listeners. And the great thing is that the wave does not stop in 2014 - far from it. What the ravenous underground metal enthusiast comes across in 2014 is yet another eclectic, dark oddity. Romania's Bloodway is, as it is to nearly every other listener, a fresh face as well as an unexpected propulsion of sorrow, grief, anger and spiritual dilemmas stretched out to an abstract and progressively enhanced degree. For the 26 minutes of lifespan it may have, ''Sunstone Voyager and the Clandestine Horizon'' is no easy pill to swallow, and packed with more material than other bands do in entire plus-1-hour offerings.

The rather graphic, surreal imagery on the cover should already provide some information on the density and richness of the dimensions explored on the EP. Putting Bloodway in one category is difficult; the group's sound pervades doom, sludge, black, death and progressive metal in eccentric proportions, but even that would not be able to do their unique sound proper justice. To put simply Bloodway possesses a characteristic rawness that sometimes morphs into tempered black metal chords, and sometimes to melody fests like on ''Free Ends'', and the EP never ceases to be suffused in the heart-wrenching agony that the vocalist, a kind of disillusioned madman strapped on a microphone, seems to suffer and lament. But unlike many raw or ''suicidal'' black metal acts that shower the listener with similar tides of catharsis, Bloodway's guitar work is collectively geared up and functions with fastidious efficiency: they've got a riff for nearly every moment, and each is no less technical than your average progressive black metal record. Point is, riff brewing is their job, and they can sure as hell do it. The guitars hold a subtle balance between dented and crisp, which is perhaps their secret delivery formula. I loved how they were seamlessly driving through the somber thickets of atmosphere in post-rock formations without actually barring the vocals or the drums, which, by any measure, were satisfying.

Fuck, even the vocals, reared on the edge of some imminent doom, delivered. Much like a black metal version of John Tardy or Van Drunnen, the vocalist barks and screams with utter pain and loss, a beautiful accompaniment to the cruising guitar assemblies. I did feel the atmospheric achievement of the album was somewhat dwarfed by the technical feats of the instruments, and there was no orchestral undertone to the album which I would definitely have preferred, (except, maybe, for the opiate intro track, which was something of an electronic track) but I suppose my gripes about the EP are confined only to that extent. The raw and visceral treatment of the EP is one that's more shocking than disappointing: I imagine certain listeners were waiting for a less refined, less abrupt piece, something more aural, but the moment the stupendous ''The Skeleton Key'' kicks in with its bustling rhythms and dark chord ballasts, the listener has no more false images about the EP's direction. The fact is, I am still in conflict with myself on how what I think about this album. I certainly enjoyed it, enough for it to compel a good many listens, but I'm still a bit lost in the hazy conglomeration of its riffs... Never mind me. If you want to enjoy some grieving, technically-oriented paranoia - stuff that has its place alongside many well-relished underground monarchs - you want to give this a go. If all else goes wrong, you have a man mummified with stars with a crescent moon for a crotch and a sun for a brain to contemplate.

Highlights:
The Skeleton Key
Free Ends
Sunstone Voyager and the Clandestine Horizon

Rating: 85%

Solstice - Death's Crown Is Victory [2013]

Needless to say I'm not the biggest doom fan out there. As a genre with the potential to exfoliate any sort of eloquence or panache with the simplest of banalities, I often found doom too ''slow'' to be such a wildly invigorating trip as any other genre, and that's, I think, one of the more commonplace scoldings it gets from listeners. Again, while that doesn't mean I neglect everything doom, I find myself at a loss of interest in most cases. That is the continual Grand Magus albums, the slower bits and pieces of Agalloch, almost any kind of sludge/stoner doom throwback, and even some of the classics. Of course the genre has witnessed quite a few climaxes lately, (or so it's been said) following an unimaginable upsurge in its popularity, most of which I haven't been able to visit. When we come to Solstice, I realize that my previous criticisms should equal an acidic assault on the band's redundancy, but strangely enough, that is not the case. These UK veterans are tough, seasoned, well-established, and even though I have no history with them, I was rather taken by their newest EP, ''Death's Crown Is Victory''.

What does Solstice hold for a seeker of eccentricities such as I? For one, it's consistent. In basic terms, the EP is just two booming 9 minute songs, with two lesser instrumentals clustered around them. What's essentially a concoction of Sabbath, Witchfinder General, Pentagram and newer Swedish trends is played with great, tight musicianship, and doesn't falter for one second. Solstice is defined as epic doom metal, which, though more fitting for other practitioners of the style, seems like a worthy tag. The half-dolorous, half-vainglorious vocals stretch and burden the album with clarity and the overall atmosphere is generally warm except for rare saunters into darker territory. And that's not just it. Who could not drool over the simplistic chug-complex of the huge, sun-wreathed guitar chords and progressions that etch across the album? Sometimes the Brits puncture a few technicalities into the mix, with melodies and even occasional arpeggio sequences, like on the title track, but the guitars generally retain a set of riffs more fitting for the baritone of the vocals; and the drums are always there, cymbal and snare, battering against the currents of mourn and triumph. While Solstice doesn't dabble with any of the 60's/70's psychedelic rock phenomena that new bands keep interpreting into their sound these days, they keep the more eclectic strata of listeners awake with melodious twists and turns here and there, so you know the album isn't all doom n' gloom.

And doesn't ''Death's Crown Is Victory'' feel redundant at times? You bet. There are more than just a few sequences where the riffs were rather dulling, where the vocals weren't saturated with enough epic tenor to shake me and cause goosebumps to pop up on my arm, and the overall sound is nothing if not original - but so what? It could have used a few tweaks in the production as well, because the guitars were to brassy at times that they were choking the vocals, but, again, there's no huge loss here. It just feels like a cogent, ass-kicking album. The big story was that they weren't travelling at a snail's face, like their funeral doom peers, and they certainly weren't fucking around with pointless poignant interludes here and there; I simply thought the pacing was damn close to optimum in terms of doom. And while the block-like patterns didn't stir anything close to maternal grief or irreparable woe, it is a moving experience. A nice potent formula to brew every now and then when you're taking a long walk across the English pastoral.

Highlights:
I Am The Hunter
Death's Crown is Victory

Rating: 78%

Skelethal - Deathmanicvs Revelation [2014] (EP)

As a duo who had previously contributed to the retro-thrash French obscure Infinite Translation, naturally I wasn't too enthralled to see Jon Whiplash and Gui Haunting performing in their revivalist schemes in the field of death metal with Skelethal. Now let's be clear here, folks. There's really very little to get excited about the ''Deathmanicvs Revelation'' EP that these two Frenchmen put out unless you're constantly in the mood to try out recycled riffs after recycled riffs from the 90's, pertaining to Entombed and Dismember in the highest degree possible. It's annoying enough the sound on many Swedeath revitalization attempts are so compressed and paper-thin in actual originality, but the matter doubles in banality when entire throngs of bands can't seem to free themselves of the verbosity of this situation. Not that Skelethal's capability lies solely in dialing back to '89-'93 - the Frenchmen have got more juice than a good few of their fellow aping machines - but even if the 22 minutes they presented was vigorous enough, I could never stop thinking how confined these younglings were to their style.

What I'm talking about here is, of course, loud bantering guitars with the atypical Swedish death metal toning, raw, fermenting and persistently dismissive of an eclectic listener's attempt to carve out more refined sounds; and one cannot forget the vocals either, which were, I'm afraid, by no stretch of the imagination particularly evocative in its pestering attempt to provoke horror and living fear. I suppose Skelethal channels back to the demo-stages of Grave, Entombed, Unleashed and Dismember (Nihilist, if you will), because they crave a thinner and more metallic abstraction of the guitars some of their counterparts, and I some of thrashy directions which the duo exhibited with their side project Infinite Translation certainly rubbed off on their death metal chord-playing, as the title track abundantly displayed. However, despite all my carping with the lack of innovation most of the guitar riffs and drum patterns, it goes without saying I felt a mild craving for the furious tempo and pacy edginess the Frenchmen created, and I even felt they were flirting with Napalm Death or Terrorizer on the unbridled ''Curse of the Neverending''.

Yet, for the sheer bliss of razing, chainsaw-ripping death metal out here, Skelethal doesn't have much to offer besides a few cans of grossly brewed beer. The sense of the necessity to break through and ponder a more intricately layered, worthwhile sounds shines through ''Death Returns''; it's pretty obvious that even these guys aren't really having an extremely fun time playing the stuff that's been blistering ears and headphones alike for over 20 years - but their failure at circumvention is inevitable. Thankfully, the atmospheric aspects of the EP weren't imposed with the mephetic dullness of a lot of bands in the same market, because the production was rather crisp, raw, and gave in for plenty of breathing space in the end. ''A Violation of Something Sacred'' was probably the band's dabble with death n' roll, and not a bad one, at that, but I felt the product was all the same. There might have been a moment or two here that the guitar actually stood out with sufficient memorability, but that's it... I won't demean the Frenchmen at such a preliminary effort - there have, after all, been copious bands before who took years to properly refine themselves - but let's just hope that the pastiche and creativity of the riffing is enlarged with future recordings. Till then, drink beer and hail death.

Highlights:
Putrefaction
Deathmanicvs Revelation

Rating: 68%

Heresiarch - Waelwulf (EP) [2014]

Despite having a career spanning no longer than a truncated twig, New Zealand's Heresiarch garnered more attention than other outfits with countless full-lengths up their belt with the single, meteoric arrival of their 2011 EP ''Hammer of Intransigence'', which was greeted with a rather mixed bevy of reviews. In all honesty, despite my appreciation for the the darker arts that death metal bands can manage to conjure, the EP was hardly a novelty, and I couldn't really help feel that it was being somewhat trod down by the real, indomitable masters of the genre. And to think, these guys weren't the best or the first to hail from New Zealand. The country continues to host a terrific circle of bestial black metal bands ranging from Witchrist and Diocletian, which have done quite a lot to promulgate the genre at large. When Heresiarch's dubious second EP arrived at my mail, I was half unwilling and half expecting the same dismay that diminished their premier EP, and I'm not about to vaunt this thing after I've listened to it, either.

''Waelwulf''' is almost entirely an unfaltering procession of the band's previous effort, with only three tracks jammed in for 13 minutes. If you're not familiar with them, I'll just say that it doesn't really need too much concentration to get to the center of the music. You'll hear the usual culprits Blasphemy, Archgoat, Beherit, and the aforementioned Diocletian, and these tracks are so similar to some of Diocletian's output that you could easily attach them to the end of any one of their albums. Fortunately, the banality of the beastly, warlike chaos that proceeds Heresiarch is mitigated by a somewhat unusual proclivity to sludge things up occasionally. That's not to say that these guys are direct progenitors of early 90's death/doom gods, but a current of slower, titular expansionism is prevalent in their music in certain focal points, denoting of an appreciation of Winter, disEMBOWELMENT, Autopsy or Cianide. Unfortunately, even with bantering, unorthodox drums fills and the doomy sequences forging abrupt tempo changes, there isn't much in the sense of intrigue in ''Waelwulf'''.

The guitar tone is nice, meaty and chubby, more real than that of ''Hammer...'', but for all the good it does to the rest of the album. The best thing this EP is likely to give you is a terrific, turbulent headache. I'm a sucker for the chaotic, miasma-ridden storms they can spew forth, but that's just fucking it. ''Waelwulf'' is well-nigh an empty crater in the middle of some archaic cave, with cracks and crevices along its each and every corner. It's layers are unfocused, dull and usually just meandering currents of distorted commotion that supposedly sew a web of ''chaos''. Heresiarch is chaotic alright, I'll give them that, but so many have gone the road of chaos and disorder that it's no longer interesting; and they're not bringing anything new on the table besides horrific and vilifying guitar sequences with a damp, worthless atmosphere. Even the minute aural images that they try to summon through the wailing guitars like the ending of ''Abrecan'' are pointless and stuffy. If you're trying to love Heresiarch, but you can't, than stop trying. The bestial/war metal market is so crowded with enshrouded jewels that you'll find more than a dozen gems by the time this EP is over. Try something else. Try Vassafor, try Diocletian, try Bölzer, try Teitanblood. I'm sure a handful of die-hards will be spinning this as they proceed to execute their weekly rituals in the local altar, but beyond that, there's nothing it can offer; so I'll be just sitting here, pondering how these guys hope to manage the enormity of a full-length if they can't even pull off a 13-minute EP.

Highlights:
Waelwulf

Rating: 57,5%

Witch In Her Tomb - Maleficus Malecifarum [2013]

I'm sure that Witch In Her Tomb's eponymous demo back in 2012 blew off a good deal of ears off, even if it was neglected in mainstream metal communities; and continuing to retain the ''cult'', or ''bedroom black metal'' style that they readily enveloped in their demo, the Illinois act released their debut EP, ''Malecifus Maleficarum''. The demo was just bliss: walls of pure grinding, searing buzz, aching with incoherent barks and even punk-like inclinations, occasionally giving way to atmospheric ambient effects to focus on the sheer depravity of the music. It was a concoction of early Scandinavian black metal aesthetics, namely early Burzum, Ragnarok or Darkthrone, and rawer parchments that were somewhat inclined towards their national precursors, unremitting walls of sound that could configure an image of both decadent modernity and primordial motives; something quite frankly not unheard of in our wretched 21st century. What precedes is a sound and limited set of styles delivered through a very similar wall of underproduced buzz, punching through a briefer 7 minute EP.

Granted, anyone who gave early Darkthrone a fair amount of listens won't find anything excruciating about the music here; and in fact I thought the band lost some of the edgy, unremitting currents of sheer force on their demo. Much of the influences have, to be sure, been kept in store with the same amount of diligence and the same level of worship, but there's a certain lassitude to the three songs which, I think, emanates from a reduced reliance on punk. The guitar is thick and pungent, incapable of being counter-smothered by the drums, charging through the dilapidated production with sheer atrocity and visceral accuracy; but the drums are a bit out of focus, giving very little room physical malignity of the EP. And who wouldn't be, in that density! Like most raw black metal drums beats, they lack essence and touch, just a simple tool for keeping the incursion fueled. And although I liked the vocals, they too were somewhat stale; just meager practices in guttural wretchedness. There are a few moments where the riffs draw to more fascinating, and emotionally more inviting moments, such as in ''IX'', where the guitars spring forth a twang of scattering tremolos, and, for once, keeping their pace below the usual standard.

As you may well expect, there's nothing overly florid here, just a handful of slim-picked riffs that shower the listener in cascades of mourn, agony and relentless contempt. There are besides the one aforementioned, one or two moments which felt particularly memorable like the concluding serenades that accompanied the last seconds of the final track, as if drawing the curtains of some ceremonious festivity in some elaborately agonizing way. To be sure, Witch In Her Tomb, is in full command of the base black metal aesthetics, maybe even more so from many of its peers. There are acts which possess a fondness for the same vituperative, vilifying languor of black metal at its rawest, and while Witch In her Tomb can still outshine, in grimness, several of these acts, the use of black metal as an implication for desolation, depravity, depression and calamity, nightmares and unimaginable despairs is one practice which has been held in such frequency over the last decade that this Illinois obscure cannot hope to beat them in one simply-purveyed attack. Imagine, if you can bear it, the tactile mourn and sense of obfuscated despair that bands like Leviathan, Xasthur or Inquisition can implement, and in such acuity! This is not to say that I'm comparing a falconet to a modern aerial bombardment; but Witch certainly needs to step up its game if it wants to compete with any of these harbringers of depression. For a frivolity, ''Maleficus Meleficarum'' is a fine listen, one that ought to dust off your ears upon immediate impact, but as I was kind of hoping the band could expand its retinue with the following release, I was disappointed by the simplicity of the EP. Nonetheless, any raw or depressive black metal connoisseur should give this a listen. It is, after all, free.

Highlights
IX
X

Rating: 70%

Free download at bandcamp: Maleficus Maleficarum

Trial - Malicious Arts [2013]

Of all the new traditional heavy metal bands emerging from Sweden, Trial is my absolute favorite. ''The Primordial Temple''dropped last year and was an instant winner, installing itself as one of 2012's top releases, hands down. The initial splash of sound may leave little to deduce from, especially for the harsh critique, and many questions arise when year-ends lists are surveyed: ''is this band really suited for the top 10 of the year?''. The answer unquestionably varies, and usually, people are accustomed to underrate such minor and emergent acts just because their mainstream impact does not even equal that of larger, commercially successful bands. Here's my answer to that - fuck big bands and big labels. One of the last things a promising, virile act needs is sweltering pressure from mainstream labels, and I think we've witnessed a goodly amount of bands who underwent the same change, morphing into a commercial outfit before they even get the chance to release a third album, and I thank the heavens that Trial is mettlesome enough to keep true to its underground complex,  while still managing to move forward. Nuclear Winter Records, one of my favorite underground imprints, is prudent to sign a deal with the young Swedes, because this shows not only that the band is progressing in quality but also that they've proved not to be some transient group, and I'm eager on getting my hands on whatever releases they spurt in the future.

For now, we're confined to this mini album, ''Malicious Arts'', with the logo back in full archaic splendor, and the same raging, traditionally-oriented heavy metal motifs of ''The Primordial Temple''. Their sonic foundation is completely redolent of King Diamond and Mercyful Fate, sprinkled with Maiden and Priest, but anyone with experience of the debut knows that they're into more than simple, generic rehashing. ''Malicious Arts'' is a queer name for the EP, because despite harboring interest for some of the darker, occult-themed accumulations of heavy metal, there is nothing particularly ''malicious'' here, but the increased doggedness of the riffs, spewed forth via a primal powerhouse of traditional values ignites a certain abysmal aesthetic that seems to be enlarged since the debut. I honestly wasn't expecting any changes at all here, but I was surprised to hear sheer volubility and articulateness rushing through the veins of the melodic riffing, with not a moment of feckless uncertainty or banality during the absorbing 12 minutes of ritualistic heavy metal bliss. Seriously, I think I may as well say that Trial are even better here than in the full-length, but the paucity of proper run time drains some of the elements of complete engulfment, ultimately failing to hit the bull's eye.

The beautiful, harmonious melodies whirl and whistle around like bullets flying through a godforsaken battlefield with reckless abandon, matched only by the memorable slew of gushing rhythm patterns that form a path of primordial carnality. Linus Johansson's vocals are even more spiritual than before, though in no way does he exploit falsettos, but chooses to plod on along with the speed/heavy riffs in a simpler manner of timbre, but his performance on ''Of Sinister Seed (The Madness Within)'' is just spectacular, fronting the roaming guitars with an incinerating range of inflections. The more technical guitar riffs collide with his brilliant high-pitched screams and form something of a dream-like ritual, as though you were being the center of a blood-painted pentagram with a choir of hooded acolytes singing psalms for the devil. The fluent leads promptly form an incandescent arch of serenity, and the drums are strikingly effective, spiking as they are somehow shadowed by the abyss of the guitars and the mesmerizing vocals. The overall sound is titular, from start to finish, and the echo-dowsed consistency of the instrumentation never proves to be a hindrance. Even  the lyrics constantly sold me:

Through the mist I trembled forth in solitude
To seek the dark depths once again!
And unveiled were hidden plains leading out of time
That will erase all restrictive thoughts of mine!

Receive the power to build the world anew
Your own reflection will no longer stare back at you
Like flesh and bone suddenly ripped apart
Heed to the fire that burns within your heart

One thing that's definitely more prominent on ''Malicious Arts'' is the fact that Trial are becoming more and more ambitious and adventurous. Sure, only on very few occasions does the EP work against the pinpointed influences that it aspires to be like, but shovel a patch of earth with ''Malicious Arts'' written all over over it, and you're bound to find a few different artifacts from that of a King Diamond coven. It's obvious that the Swedes are working with pure dedication and the music here, as noted before, is not a cheesy reevaluation of traditional Danish or NWOBHM aspects, it's rich music packed with intriguing densities and subtleties, yet so rarely do the Swedes show their lassitude while working with such swelling compositions that the listener, finds himself entangled with diligent, thoughtful riffing and frivolity at once. Perhaps I may have exaggerated a slight bit when I said that there wasn't a single moment of banality, because there are some rare sequences in these 12 minutes that I felt the band ventured a little too deep into the abyss, leaving the listener in a somewhat bleak, aimless attic, but the overall quality is good enough to make me listen to this over and over again. Thus, I like to think of Trail as a better model or revitalized heavy metal than many others in the same spectrum, such as In Solitude and Portrait, and I have no doubt that the upcoming full-length will continue to kick asses in the same manner.

Highlights:
To Dust
Of Sinister Seed (The Madness Within)

Rating: 82,5%

Pantheon of Blood - Tetrasomia [2013]

Finland may not be the most prolific metal country out there - it never was - but that's not to say that the northerners are alien to metal's exhumations and characteristics - this is the country where quality, original music comes in good numbers, in as many genres as you can think, in presentations both primal and modern, despite not sprouting bountifully. Purveyors of mourn and morbid carnality lie in abundance, and that includes the young Pantheon of Blood who have been pervading innocent souls with abysmal black metal since their successful 2011 EP. ''Tetrasomia'' is a definite step forward from the utterly primordial aesthetics of its retracting predecessor, but it does not deviate from its accursed roots too much as to seethe through the listener's mind with the same sense of overwhelming fear and emotional catharsis, installing itself as arguably the biggest highlight of their concise discography.

For one, ''Tetrasomia'' has a fucking fantastic cover. Unlike ''Consociatio Solis et Lunae'', which exhibited, rather poorly, the ethereal reflection of its musical tendencies through a puerile, sexual, and, admittedly, rather amateurish cover art, ''Tetrasomia'' has a brilliant artwork that more or less packs the EP's compartmentalized tenets in a single, gorgeously dark depiction; and while the maxim ''don't judge a book by its cover'' is one that I embrace quite frequently, I can say without hesitation that in this case, the augmented quality of the cover equals quality in content. There is a steady, circuit-like formula that the band revolves around, but aside from a foundation that gathers power from early Rotting Christ, or some of Pantheon of Blood's countrymen like Charnel Winds among others, each track is composed of its own distinct and veritable desires that are narrated by a doleful, eerie choir of guitars and crisp drum patterns. I absolutely love the band's melodic sensibility here: they feel so reminiscent of Rotting Christ's first two discs that they lovingly embrace a psychedelic fountain from which they spew forth a cathartic range of emotions, fluctuating like a multi-faceted current of emotional bliss. The iridescent quality of the drilling tremolos are so colorful that they imbue the listener with a wealth of moody rainbows and veneers, sadness incarnate.

The vocals are sneering and corpulent, but the real wonder that they provide is to draw a distinction between the rich, otherwordly guitar pieces and the frosty twang of its own inflection, simply polarizing the record and enlarging the contrast level to a greater length. ''Thunder Alchemy'', for instance, explodes with utterly woeful diatribes both in the guitar and vocal department, and at about halfway into the song the vocals generate a sort of doomed growl, as if the vocalist found himself to be a victim of premature burial, pleading for help inside his coffin while a crowd of spirits sing a hymn for the dead. You may as well say that the Finnish are at the top of their in the utilization of every single instrument. Besides the harrowing vortex of melodic riffs, the guitars implement clean pieces into the mix, which only deepens the prevalent misery. The drums are consistent though not warlike, as the guitars themselves stay attached to slower, doom-oriented riffing, with occasional outbursts of further emotion. Interestingly enough, the production is hardly dilapidated, while the vocals certainly belong to a wilder, rawer cavern of sorrow.

It's true that even with the creative atrocities the guitars fabricate, they have the potential to burgeon and evolve into so much more. I was not malcontent with any of the stuff I heard here, I actually fell in love with a few rare passages, and Pantheon of Blood did channel older, archaic black metal at times in the Norwegian tradition, evoking the purist in me, but a slight amount of distinction would still have been nice. Emotional conflagration, though, is an art that they've long savvied, and with ''Tetrasomia'', they are nearly perfect. The howls of the vocals are excellent, but the guitars don't seem to always be on par with them. ''I.N.R.I'' is definitely an exception, with the primal pangs of the guitar riffs perfectly swaying in accordance to the vocals, especially in the masterful chorus section. A lessened production value would also suit their style better, but it is up to them to hone their style with whatever adornments they choose to use on the full-length. But in anyway, ''Tetrasomia'' is more than worth your time.

Highlights:
I.N.R.I
Thunder Alchemy

Rating: 83%

Draumar - Gebirge [2012]

Believe it or not, my best findings over the last 2-3 years have been in the field of black metal more than anything else: thrash had already lost its revivalist touch after 2009, and few records besides the olden, antique dimensions of death metal interest me, and there were only a handful of stupendous releases on that department, the remainder being a mostly consistent, but unabashedly generic metric chock of bands sprouting out of pretty much anywhere around the globe - thus, some of the most enthralling releases of recent years belong mostly to black metal. Somehow, black metal musicians are able to achieve salvation, or rather, musical incarceration through their own predilections, incorporating an enormously vast choice of sounds into traditional parameters, ranging from folk metal influences to ambient preferences to progressive rock, and while this rule does obviously apply for all black metal bands, it does take into account a considerable number of acts. Of these refreshingly savvy acts I've found Germany's Draumar to be one of the most beautiful and atmospheric, through the usage of orchestral sounds, a superb EP that shines nearly all the way.

This is absolutely soothing music, and certainly not your traditional kind of ambient black metal. There are indeed acts such as the notorious Leviathan or Oranssi Pazuzu that use their aural tendencies to encase the listener in utterly nightmarish profundity, evoking despair and trauma as effortlessly as putting a mentally disfigured person behind bars, but Draumar contrasts entirely from such acts, firmly providing a warm, spectral and haunting layer of pulchritude. You could say that they were influenced by Summoning in many ways, as the atmospheric reflection of many passages seem to be befit for being a soundtrack covering a lost footage of The Shire in the Fellowship of the Ring, but then again, Summoning is something far more glorious and unapologetic in its triumph, a right soundtrack for the defeat of Sauron. The thing about ''Gebirge'' is that it's 85% ambient passages and only 15% guitars/drums/vocals intertwined with the atmospherics above, so it's admittedly a rather stunning, but slow-paced listen, despite its brevity. The opener, ''Auftakt'' is a mellow introduction ceremony for the upcoming wave of musical transcendence, and my favorite track is probably the follow-up, ''Gebirge I'', which initiates with synthesizers redolent of Ihsahn's work on Emperor's debut, and gradually unfurls into a diaphanous spectacle. The vocals are raw, winter-beaten and raspy to the core bu somehow they fit the sound effects perfectly, and the guitars are such crisp expedients that they balance the weigh of the record with heavenly succession.

For those who might scoff at the ''orchestral'' tag: I advise you to listen before you criticize. This is no collection of cheap fillers, and certainly not some cheesy horror flick your local death metal decided to use as an appendix for their disjointed Autopsy duplicate disc - these are real fucking instruments being played with accuracy and technique, implemented brazenly into the music. Pianos. Acoustic guitars. Flutes. Violins. All adhered to different sections of the EP, making it all the better. ''Gebirge II'' is nearly as good as its successor, running for some 7 seven minutes, and in versatility it never seems to lack material. Draumar's fresh take on black metal does not seem to deviate all too greatly from some of its peers, Summoning included, but it's sensational in every way that I can think of with my sole complaint being the lack of engagement, that, despite being launched towards such speed freak as I, did not seem to matter so much; a mere peccadilo of a stain amid a beautiful rainbow. That said, the EP was too short to be fully effective as well, running for about 20 minutes, but still, I can't say there was a moment where the the surreal and dazzling approach of Draumar didn't stun me. This is the kind of music that really needs to be taken to a larger scale; I heartily encourage garden variety Norwegian black metal groups to cut their ragged, uncircumcised music short to give bands like Draumar a little more space. I'm determined to see ''Gebirge's'' follow-up, because despite the soothing attribute of the music, the German can stimulate many a listener with ''Gebirge'', and the prospect of a 60+ minute ''Gebirge'' is highly exciting. Well, at least, if they continue this way.

Highlights:
Gebirge I
Gebirge II

Rating: 86%

ZOM - Multiversal Holocaust [2013]

I was first acquainted with ZOM around 2012 when I heard their 2011 demo. It was a considerably discomfiting, noisy piece of hectic black/death in the vein of Diocletian and Blasphemy, and I need not say that I enjoyed myself greatly throughout the demo's 20 minute lifespan or sordid darkness. Upon hearing the Irishmen's coupling with the notorious underground imprint Iron Bonehead Productions, I was more than excited to hear fresh material from them, and I was particularly hungry as I somehow could not obtain their 2012 demo. What riveted and eventually dragged me into ZOM's unique entity ''Multiversal Holocaust'', a brief 2 song EP, is ZOM's sense of enlightenment, which was clearly visible on their previous releases, but this time offered with a more refined edge, and their sense of being able to control chaos. For some some reason, I see the latter as an aspect that seems to be hugely lacking in modern black/death/war metal groups - bands simply cram grindcore-paced songs with subterranean wrangles that reek of such giants as the ones aforementioned, and proceed to play with nearly no sense of musical realization, offering blank, banal, and canned chaos. ZOM, on the other hand, have somehow managed to overcome the majority of the hindrances that were keeping their turbulent bland of black/death fresh yet still distilled with terrifying complexity and anomaly.

What makes ZOM even more refined is that they're no longer bound to the strictly obtuse stylings of Blasphemy, Axis Of Advance, or Revenge. I'm talking about genuine riffs here, not just a convoluted enmeshment of cavernous clamor, but more diligently constructed terror that pervades with superior intensity and extremity, eventually coinciding with the listener's worst nightmares. The production, for one, despite still keeping true to its cavernous and clangorous roots, is much more accessible and somewhat spacious, granting ease for the malleability of the swerving black/thrash-oriented riffs. What's more is that the death metal aspect of ZOM has enlarged greatly. It's almost as though these broiling ruptures that seem to be a cross between Pestilence, Asphyx, Autopsy, early Death, Messiah and Ripping Corpse, wreathed in a gorgeously sodden aura of gore, channel some sort of tape echo-ridden production value (which by the way is the sole ''modern'' aspect of the EP) and seep into the listener's conscious, thus intruding with nightmarish accuracy, efficiency and intricacy. The black metal facet of ZOM is chiefly and collection of early Burzum, Mayhem's legendary ''Deathcrush'' EP, Bestial Warlust, Blasphemy, Revenge and Conqueror among a handful of others, providing riffing qualities that are both raw and razor-sharp. With all its elements infused together, ZOM sounds very much like Weregoat, another recent entrant to the black/death universe, but with a heavier, grooving sensation that limits parole just as well as it renders escapism somewhat possible for keen headbangers.

Like many of its kin, the two tracks are linked individually and separately with blood-curdling ambient passages and sequences of whose classification I still find hard to put into words. Perhaps the individual values of the riffs have gained acuteness and significance with the Irishman's reformed perspective, but the overall sound is still the cut above the rest. ZOM composes richly darkened texture with an absolutely dreadful panoply of preposterous and charred chaos, laden with technical skill and the ability to prevent salvation with all the means possible. And trust me, they have the means. It's horrific, scrupulously rotten and it's a great reminder that nightmares that be evoked during daytime with alarming determination. I'm not going to go as far as to say that this is a severed head over any other release over the last 2-3 years in the same field, but I'll have to admit that it's one of the most successful ones in that field. This is an EP that pumped so much drug in me, that I literally can't keep my ears away from monstrosities and profanities alike. You need this.

Highlights:All songs

Rating: 85%

Insinnerator - Hypothermia [2012]

Any avid thrasher who's just going to ignore Insinnerator because of the cheesy cover art is simply going feel pretty damn regretful about the mistake afterwards. A little information on the band; this is a trio from Dallas, Texas, who simply loves to play frivolous retro-thrash carnage, and has established a fairly large fan base after the release of their vicious debut, ''Stalagmite Of Ice'', and enter their frigid aura, and you'll find the band to be superior to the myriad of aping contestants in the modern thrash derby, in fact, they're arguably the best pure, no-frills act around, embodying a completely skull-splattering manifestation of everything Exodus, Slayer and Vio-lence. This is basically rowdy old underground thrash buzzing with energy, with the staple influences that apply for nearly the entire thrash metal spectrum, and overall a raucous performance that's treble the rawness that Warbringer or any other over-lauded act can conjure in entire discographies.

So needles to say that ''Hypothermia'' is a rewarding experience for any thrasher seeking denim, jeans, patches and cranial compression via hammering, thundering guitar clangor. Just as you might expect, Insinnerator are purely devoted to the riffs. Well, not exactly purely. I'd say 95% of the music is an angry, rambunctious manifest meaty Bay-Area styled riffing, meaning a storm of entirely volatile bullets, churning up as the raw production quality grants a hefty dose of noise, all rapidly fleeing through the album's resonant velocity, and the remaining 5% percent is a small but entertaining endeavor to enhance the ambiance. Originally, the trio bored no such feature as to adorn their frivolity with a somewhat ''evil'' aura, but here, they're more punctilious about injecting something extra in the mix, which becomes even more evident in certain brooding passages, like in the title track, nearly three minutes confided to the icy, atmospheric glimmer that, though two pale blue album covers has become the band's unique, gelid image, and they even tend to decorate those tranquil sequences with wonderful Spanish guitars.

But otherwise, Insinnerator stay at the highest tempo, at all times. So fast, in fact, that I sometimes mistake the violent attribution of speed for something more crossover-related, particularly the speed devils Wehrmacht, but far more consistent, pummeling and punishing through the immensely jagged bulk of a tone of the guitar. There's also some technical prowess to be noted, which, unlike some other aspects stayed stable, but nonetheless bring an even more gritty edge to the riffs, as if bits an pieces were extracted from ''Energetic Disassembly'' era Watchtower or German tech-thrash crudities Toxin and Toxic Shock, or early Megadeth if you want a more accurate comparison. Finally, ''Brutal'' Ben's vocal delivery has stepped up a notch since I heard them on the debut, fitting much better into the vibrant crunch of the coarse riffing. Granted, you won't be astounded by what you hear on ''Hypothermia'', that much is clear, but through a ton of swerve, nerve and battering bombast, it succeeds where many of its counterparts failed; an utterly blissful paradise of riffs for the fervent thrasher.

Highlights:

Curse (Horror Of Dracula)

Elemental Ice Dragon

Pentagram 

Rating: 80%

Coldsteel - America Idol [2013]

Coldsteel is one of those bands that, despite forming back in 1986, couldn't manage to gain a sufficient fan base, as their sole album, ''Freakboy'', was released in 1992. That aside, even after the internet's benefits in uprooting obscurities were discovered, I hardly think ''Freakboy'' became a cult classic. Coldsteel didn't even aesthetically belong in the ''old school'' category, but instead a power-induced channeling of groove/thrash which, although quite terrible even for today's measurements, was strangely popular back then, and I would honestly have appreciated it more if the band's new material, ''America Idol'', belonged somewhat more in the group of old school thrash; perhaps something of a Bay Area kick, judging by the path the band's taking, or more voracious speed/thrash effulgence. Yet, the band's preferences haven't changed, at least not in the core tenets, but Coldsteel seek to both diversify and modernize their brand using numerous implements, making the four-track EP we have here a relatively more interesting listen than their any other release in their backlog.

In fact, I daresay this EP's genuinely good, and certain track bear a textured, concussive rhythmic department that I found to be far more memorable than anticipated. I suppose they're a bit more punctilious about the subtleties of their riffs, but the real good news comes from a rather excellent stringing of influences, bludgeoning songwriting and well-penned blazing leads for a cut above the rest. You'll certainly hear a strong groove/thrash influence, which can be nettling, I admit, but most of the time these modernized grooves are jointed with melodious power/thrash rushes, and you get these drum-pumped grooves clashing with hybridized choruses - and they turn out to be riper than expected. I'm getting all sorts of vibes; from Sepultura circa 1991-1996 to Laaz Rockit, Helstar, Abattoir to some of the more picking-laden power metal acts out there, with a good measure of speed threaded into all these influences. The vocals bear queer resemblance to Hetfield circa 1988-1991, until they soar to higher power metal shrieks, and the drums are excellent, both well paced and capable of upbringing plenty of groove to the guitar work.

''America Idol'', with its superb gyrating chorus and ''Ashes To Ashes'' with its gestalt of tech-thrash riffing and onset of condensing solos remain as my favorite tracks, and in all honesty they're superior to many other thrash bands performing in their field. However, I won't deny that there were some things here that were a little too agitating for me. Firstly, ''Blink Of An Eye'' featured one of those terrible modern chorus sing-aloud's, and the intro to ''Blood Secrets'' was just fucking irrelevant and annoying (techno, really?). But besides some flaws ''America Idol'' remains an entertaining exercise in modernity, proto-power metal and groove/thrash. This exactly what you'd get if you fused on of the early-mid 90's groove metal obscurities with 21st century power/thrash inflections, so unless you're a purist, you need not suffer this; if you're searching for something of a booming frivolity to band your head to, then it's not a bad choice at all. And I can safely confide after some two dozen spins, it's pretty damn solid.

Highlights:
America Idol
Ashes To Ashes

Rating: 77%

Black Table - Sentinel [2012]

No one could have guessed the sheer compelling enigma of Black Table's meticulously balanced EP ''Sentinel'', its genuine manic genius, and its ability to exhibit a remarkably well-anchored post-rock amalgamated with discordant black metal which bears resemblance to that of Deathspell Omega in its cajoling poignancy, ultimately forging an implement that can ship any band from the deep bowels of obscurity to a bright future of striving excellence. For a band who's ingeniously prehensile fabrication lies in the very heart of their ambitious youth rather than a decade or two of seasoned experience, ''Sentinel'' is an unforgiving, highly innovative concussion of core tenets that, after a dozen sessions of dichotomy, automatically burst into an entirely extensive, all-out combustion, simply a maniacal musical achievement that could be belabored for a long time.

As far as I can see, the reason why I'm gravitated so much towards ''Sentinel'' is because it takes the experimental metal niche to a different edge, imparting a melodious, kinetic poignancy to the already an already refine style and spending the entire twenty four minutes of run time bedecking that formula. It's almost as if the group is cultivating a heavier, richer soil for the post-rock formula to be placed in, and the same time, I get a strong technical sludge vibe striding from the band's penchant for strolling into staccatos and slumping extreme metal orchestrations, and like the gleaming grandeur of the sun-bright cover, they inject a heaping doze of eccentricity into the level of extremism, rendering it completely accessible and mature throughout. The riffs are manic, sporadic and totally dispersed around the EP, and the guitars are outstandingly prominent with their switches and convoluted twists snapping around in every direction; there's a tremendous amount of variation in here, more than most young talents can cram into twenty four minutes, and what's more is that they're their volatility does not turn the momentum into a hodgepodge of mass technical confusion for the listener.

The guitars were the main highlight yes, but the static wave of mournful female vocals was no doubt punctilious implement in conjuring the droning, sorrowful ambiance of the record. Mers Sumida's shrieks are of a an incredibly low-pitched atonement, and she applies them sporadically, adding an almost raw black metal appeal to the amalgamation at times, especially when the guitars switch to more carnal, rabid riffing, but somehow the overall pulchritude of the performance mars the band from plunging into a more aggressive effulgence, thus, ''Sentinel's'' excellence becomes evident. Judging by the density of sorrow on the whole EP I imagine the band was trying to depict rustic images and landscapes conjured by, say, Drudkh, Burzum, Blut Aus Nord without their industrialized tendencies, but then again there's an emergent surge for jumping from one riff to another, which proves that Black Table are endeavoring for something truly different than their peers. Hybridized, obfuscated, dour experimental excellence which my only gripe would be the brevity of the material, so I'll more than sure to check out any upcoming releases from these black metal lab rats.

Highlights:
Heist 
Sentinel
To Tear Down
1942

Rating: 87,5%

Deceptor - Chains Of Delusion [2013]

In an astonishing turn of events, what I anticipated as another potential tumor in the myriad of retro heavy/thrash metal groups turned out to be a compulsory magnet of innovative, old school excellence that exceeded any of my previous opinions on the matter. How could I have known, that amid a trampling stockpile of promos, it would be Shadow Kingdom's delivery, Deceptor's sophomore EP ''Chains Of Delusion'' that perfectly fit the maniacally inclined, wondrously imbued textures that I had been searching for so long, but never acquired, yet, what makes up this a work of sheer old-minded genius is its climatic, glimmering sheen of imagination; hardly has a band ever bestirred interpretations of both traditional, thrash, speed and a classical brand of death metal akin to the latest Deceased, and successfully concluded their industrious formula bu enhancing the basis with ingenious riffing, as if the entire thing was the product of pang in the mind of a mad scientist who wished to saturate the demands of die-hards of all the aforementioned genres within a single concession.

Deceptor's body work on ''Chains Of Delusion'' is hardly what you'd call an immensely lengthy epic, but with the two ambient sounds tracks excluded, we're left with four tracks, each arriving from their own biomes, spewing forth their own distinctive elements, almost as if they had nothing to with each other. But everywhere you go, you'll vibrantly feel the band's own engrossment of texture and semi-technical riffs, which is what makes the whole EP so magical. Simply said, ''Chains Of Delusion'' is an effigy for the 80's. The entire aura is earthen as the drums, the bass and the guitar work all have roughly equal spaces in the mix, and Sam Mackertich's vocals are as divergent as the riffs, shifting from harmonious power metal chants to harsher death/thrash growls, and then to Schmier-like shrieks that echo through the ears of a Destruction fan like delicious nostalgia. His vocal inflection is just as brilliant as the guitars, and simply bears some of the most combustive vocal electricity I've heard is some time.

The tone is perfectly crisp, as if you're tasting a perfectly well-cooked steak through your headphones; it's wonderfully authentic, something in between ''Peace Sells...'' and ''Rust In Peace'', but far more belligerent and ravenous, eager to sink its caustic raw of teeth into the skull of its crazed mentor. Like the vocals, you never know what the guitars are likely to switch into. One moment you're lost through a matrix of technicality, then a NWOBHM-styled gallop bounces into action, and just seconds later you're driven into cavorting speed/thrash convulsions that jive equally as well to the vocalist's Bruce Dickinson complexes as they do the much more psychotic growls of his schizoid side. There are just so many twists and turns on the EP that it's nearly impossible not to be befuddled by the musical tenacity of the trio. Take the bumping, melodious bass of ''To Know Infinity'', the assailing bullet-like chug storm of ''Heatseeker'', ''Sentient Shackles' '' technical momentum and the indulgent, foreboding onslaught of ''Oblivion's Call'', put in a few mechanized voices, and you practically have exemplary of modern sci-fi induced thrash metal.

''Chains Of Delusion'' is damn near phenomenal. I could only gape at the narrow-mindedness of thrasher who would rather get drunk over an orgy of Warbringer songs, and not give much of a fuck about the gyrating genius of this. I think it's about time somebody cracked these damnable chains and let the metal world know of their new master thrasher, because with ''Chains Of Delusion'', Deceptor have certainly earned that title, yet one must now forget that this is so much more than the polished, originality-free modernity everyone seems to be endlessly craving these days as a vague remembrance to the good old days, but those who really wish to be submerged in 80's retro energy - fear not - for your new captor has arrived. If you're one of those people, you have no excuse not to pre-order this right now, even if there's a procrastinated apocalypse just outside of your city.

Highlights:
Everything

Rating: 91%

Children Of Technology - Mayhemic Speed Anarchy [2012]

Italian speed freaks Children Of Technology have already buried themselves into the consciousnesses of voluptuous crossover enthusiasts with their 2010 debut which was highly, highly redolent of punk, thrash, grime, denim, and though relatively new to scene, they deserve some applause for the considerate punk, hardcore and thrash choices, exclusively injecting old school energy into their overt amalgamations. It's own simple sphere of influence, ''It's Time To Face The Doomsday'' was a vigorous assault of near-clamorous motorcycle frenzy and explosive outings of punk and hardcore fundamentals, and now they've decided to once again cope with their mass provider of motorcycles, Hell's Headbangers, a two-track EP being their latest penning. Despite the excitement fervent listeners will have over this, there's no need to exaggerate the fact that the motorized punks are going for standard procedure here; chaos, annihilation, and of course, motorbikes aplenty.

I say aplenty, but in truth, there's not much material here, nor would you expect anyone to cram layers and layers of buttering crossover/punk/thrash into a spurious little CD of six minutes. Children Of Technology are, as I stated, applying basic, robotized pressure on their fans with gushing frivolous and downtrodden punk dives and pumping hardcore beats, keeping the fuel burning throughout the almost ludicrous six minutes of run time. The Italians, however dominant over their moshing minions, are not really letting the eclectic listener get anything else than distorted nostalgia: they've got a rumbling bass line line sometimes crashes into the spotlight right before its fellow proponents arrive and take control of the whole stage with unhinged aggression, the drums have take much less space in the mix than the guitars, occasionally going for some perky cymbal abuse after exhausting sessions of one-dimensional blast beats, and the guitars are caked with dirt, the same way it was on the debut, conjuring crunchy and eager crossover pursuits that fit the drum rhythms perfectly in their own simpleminded sense.

You've got to accept that no matter how long these Italians are going to stay in the music business they're always going to be tied to the same aesthetic with crude leather belts, and even though their love for everything old school and everything vigorous and punk makes goosebumps perk on my skin, they're not going to be able deliver anything truly special for fans who like things nuanced now and then. Perhaps my favorite performance was the vocals, reeking of ''Sheepdog'' Mclaren of early Razor, Cro-Mags and perhaps even DRI, lashing out contemptuously shrill high-pitched shrieks to boast their crazed, anarchic cause. Anyone in desperate need of straightforward-as-fuck, broiling old school crossover should throw himself/herself right at this, but then again the debut would serve the same purpose with better overall efficiency, and that's what renders ''Mayhemic Speed Anarchy'' so simple - the only thing that won't be expunged from the listener's memory fifteen minutes after discourse is the cover art, barely memorable itself.

Highlights:
Computer World
Mayhemic Speed Anarchy

Rating: 72%

Hic Iacet - Prophecy Of Doom [2012]

Glancing at the cover, one might easily be persuaded by Hic Iacet's 2 track EP ''Prophecy Of Doom''. A grotesquely engraved image of two ritual necromancers merging as their freakish tentacles coil and reveal a nebulous vortex, all the while an inverted illuminati with a masochist serpent encircling it, stares at the owner of this brief recall to blasphemy, power flushing out. Hic Iacet's 2011 demo ''Hedonist Of The Death'' was a highly potent excursion which successfully put raw black metal and murkier black/death tendencies into practice withing one wholesome package. I was naturally delighted by the demo, perhaps another offspring of the overly prolific occult black metal genre but still high in quality, and the Spaniards's retinue expands as they sign to Hell's Headbangers to harvest and later on, expose more hellish, churning material, yet the EP is not all terrific news for keen followers, because ''Prophecy Of Doom'' introduces aspects that fervent listeners may not like after the prior release.

As on ''Hedonist Of The Death'' the Spaniards heavily incline towards the process of gloom, whether it be scrutinizing the element or spicing it up with different ingredients, yet here, there's a relatively different sustain on completely ferocious, raw aggression. The band's propensity for being able to effortlessly induce loom and cavernous ambiances with the singular use of distortion guitars cranked up sky-high and additional elements of resonance is still the highlight of the EP but the riffs have a more lurching, serpentine taste to them rather than straightforward, gnawing hostility and by simply blotting out the main crispness of the guitars with the vocalist's cavernous growling timbre, Hic Iacet can keep the listener semi-indulged at all times, even if there's hardly any subtext of immense evil. The guitars plod along with pure early 90's death metal ferocity, pretty much what you'd hear from early Death, Incantation, Autopsy or Winter and old Fleshcrawl, venturing into a near-doom metal spectrum, which, admittedly, while still implying strong somnolence onto the listener, still kills much of the primal energy to be found on the demo.

The compositions aren't really funereal, after some point they're simply abridged for obvious risks of boredom, and albeit an eleven minute EP may not cause a listener to doze off, the expenditure of the EP may cause some unwanted banality, one that, amid hundreds of other cavern-dwellers, the occasional death metal revival fan would not want to put up with. The band may truly be up to something promising here: If they scatter the two puzzles they've made and join the pieces to form one queer amalgamation, they can actually turn on the metal community more than you'd care to imagine; drowsy, black-ish death/doom patterns rumbling along the cavernous echoes of the vocalist's great reverb while ruptures of shattering raw strength sway back and forth, a mire of miasma. That said, there will still be a few who will dig this for its massive nature and crude display of death and black metal or its mutual resemblance to Hic Iacet's countrymen and acknowledged blasphemers Teitanblood and Proclamation. Definitely worth a spin or three.

Highlights
Elevation of Sun
Prophecy of Doom

Rating: 76,5%

Dire Omen - Severing Soul From Flesh [2012]

Canada's repugnant, esoteric atmospheric blackened death metal worship has reached such prodigious heights in quantity that acts gradually diversifying their range of atonal OSDM bowel deconstruction and are conveying somewhat simpler ideas instead of directly corresponding to their ritualistic countrymen Antediluvian and Mitochondrion. One of my most recent excavations in this rotten pile of archaic disturbance is Dire Omen, which, compared to the aforementioned behemoths, have slightly nuanced taste in displaying their corpulent hybrid of black and death metal. I'm assuming your protesting to this nebulous tenor; ''What, another Canadian death metal band?'', and I will be replying with the inevitable answer; ''Yes'', however, don't get your hopes down yet, because in all their simplicity, Dire Omen is not at all bad news.

Honestly, the EP is brief, to-the-point, and as you probably noticed, nothing new for the occasional OSDM freak, yet it does have some strong features that are instant hindrances that negate me from degrading the band's performance. Firstly, ''Severing Soul From Flesh'' lives up for its name in every way. The band's continual reservoir of bulky death metal chugs and chops have a nice earthen grasp to them that's reminiscent of early Pestilence and early Death, rather than more massive incursions because of the great, ghastly, fleshy tone the guitar acquires, and there's quite a bit of muscular dependency here; certainly more riffs are strewn on husky complexes than Antediluvian, or, say, Impetuous Ritual. The rippling clasp of the tone has a radiant effect on the overall patterns, and what's more is that the void-like atmospheric haziness that they've supposedly borrowed from their countrymen adorn the gruesome, lacerating ferocity of the guitars, driving the listener into a delicious, aurally enhanced death metal foray.

In such tracks as ''Decaying Moral Scripture'' or the title track, the band perfectly encrypts semi-atmospheric arpeggio sequences atop vivacious tremolo ruptures that reek of Deicide circa 1990-1992. You'll also get, throughout the brief experience, lugubrious, uncircumcised tremolo patterns which actually have sstrong overtone of nightmarish imagery printed on them. To top it all, ''Deserving Of Ash'' culminates the band's prior compositions by jutting into the airy visceral rampage with immensely atmospheric black metal convulsions, and even if for a split second, you get that eerie splash of epic beauty. My only complaint was that the EP sounded like the band hadn't firmly established a stable formula yet. There's definitely a sense of imperfection in the basis of the formula when you hear odd couplings of death and black, thus, the experience was crudely frightening, even if not as horrific as Antediluvian, the combined reiterated output is something to be feared - I'll definitely be looking forward to further bloodied ceremonies by this trio.

Highlights:
Dire Omen
Severing Soul From Flesh
Deserving Of Ash

Rating: 80%