Ysengrin - To Endotaton

To me, the number of French bands that I have relative reverence for is very, very few. Even considering all the bands from the dawn of time as far as metal is concerned, there were only a couple of acts which were able to capture my attention, including the death/thrash massacre Massacra, and few more similar OSDM groups which proved somewhat emergent only during the early 90's, and other than that handful of crude extremes, there's only the current blossoming post/ambient black metal chorus that I eschew from listening, but had a sort of alarming impact on me. With members from the fascinating atmospheric black metal cogitation Darkenhold, Ysengrin, one of my more latter discoveries, completely varying from the fellow countrymen, have injected an addicting hermetic drug into my veins which I can't seem to cleanse myself of; the group formulates a mercurial enigma of death, black and doom, and even more surprising is that they don't deliberately eschew whatever archaic tendencies these three genres have, and throw them into their own, enigmatic concoction which boasts of some of the most refreshing, somber metal I've heard in a long while.

From the very start, ''To Endotaton'' constantly fabricates, intense, almost delusional majestic blackened death/doom, if you want to classify that simply. The entire album is a single, cavernous forty-minute journey into mysterious and occult harmony, the album's innumerable characteristics showing with color and epitomized pulchritude, and this constantly flowing tree of veins always keeps ample provisions of atmospheric deepness, adding a mesmerizing undertone to its eloquent furnace, burning with a calm but fervent fire. Eventually, due to the album's many faces, there will be many who will dub it something else, since, the listener is inflected by whatever attribute has an impact on him/her the most, but as a whole, ''To Endotaton'' incorporates so many different influences of distinct color and variation, that its spectrum eventually bursts and comes out a new, fresh monolith formed of the beautifully charred remains of its predecessors.

I'm glad the album eschews any sort of industrial/technical element that might come to mind, because such an experiment would have surely ruined the organic trance bestowed upon you that I drool so much about. The primary riffs are stationary black/doom progressions, advancing, sometimes, with a great atmospheric splendor, while sometimes simply punishing with  a more swerving complex: dirtier chugs and crispy patterns.  While a surge of mournful, misanthropic riffage struggles through a dense plume of lethargy and desolation, Ysengrin add plenty of revitalizing objects in between mourns to keep the pace active, and somehow fluent. I'm talking about crunchy thrash chugs and Bolt Thrower-esque mid-paced crushers coming in an eerie stampede, and on even rarer occasions you'll hear deliberate tremolo bashing, churning into the semi-epic aura with ease.

While the cavern-riddled utters of the vocalist will often be excluded from significance during the more rapid incursions, the tinging despair of the vocalists light gutturals will probably ignite fires of gripping tension and isolation in clean guitar- dominated sequences, where the Frenchman will present themselves as virtuoso of the dark Spanish lead guitar or simply haunting interludes. No matter how long the entire song is, through the band members' experience and savvy techniques, the tremendous hermetic strength the album holds, and delicately penned compositions, the entrancing archaic mystery that is ''To Endotaton'' exceeds. A highly, highly recommended aperture into morbid darkness. Good job I, Voidhanger, good job.

Highlight:
To Endotaton 

Rating: 90%

War Possession - Through The Ages

Bands have been making so much death metal in their putrid cavern walls and hellish kilns that it's literally impossible to escape from one's clutches, and as it has happened innumerable times, I've once again found myself writing about and unknown retro death metal act the cadaverous contortions their release projects. Once again Hellthrasher Productions bring desolate obscurities to the surface and expose their bitter display of vile bowel-butchery in the possible goriest way. War Possession, like their label mates Resurgence, are a band from Greece that really don't pen material that's gonna spoil the contents of your brain in one ludicrous, ruinous rampage. I'm not gonna go for an in-depth description of the band's obtuse delivery, even though I can safely say it packs one ugly, macabre punch, but if you know what Demigod, Convulse, Bolt Thrower and USDM sounds like, you won't have much trouble imagining the skull-chaffing index of this brief EP.

''Through The Ages'', ranging at some twenty-one minutes, takes relatively different subjects, usually warlike topics, into the music, as you'll see in the cover, which is probably the biggest connection it has to any Bolt Thrower album. The lyrical content aside, War Possession have frothing formula at their hands which they use most efficiently; a putrid, sodden guitar tone with chunky gallops flowing like a torrential stream of gore and blood, brusque tempo changes, and wretched, bile-covered death/doom arsenal, as if some posthumous being starts to gobble up your legs whilst crude utters escape its mouth - it's a horrendous experience while it lasts, but even so, you'll fail to be really revitalized by this emission of mangled flesh. There are moments like the immediate mid-paced groove on ''The Shadow Of The Ancient Gods'' or semi-technical bombast on ''World War Domination'' that got me thinking, and I sank further down with the ghastly, torrid growls the vocalist can manifest, but as far as great sequences goes, those are the only few you'll be able to think, even when baffled by the primitive brute force this hulk can conjure.

Even the poignant melodies evoke some misery in me, but the overall punishment ''Through The Ages'' serves is only gonna do damage. Yes, some pretty immense, rib-splitting collateral damage, yes, but there're definitely much more intelligent death metal acts out there who absolutely make you shed bitter tears as pain swerves and stirs up in your ear than comes out in liquid sustenance for the creator of torture to feed on; and War Possession are not one of those bands. Like I said, I'm still content with what I heard, but if they're not gonna morph into a sensation of chaotic mesmerizing darkness, like violent reflection of their spine-chilling outro ''Deathmarch'', they might as well become experts in their own art, manifesting what has already been manifested with putrid bile and gore. They're definitely gonna need some more arms if they're going to expand their retinue in short notice.

Highlights:
Medieval Bloodlust
World War Domination

Rating: 78%

Black Jesus - Black Jesus Saves

Earlier this year, I was acquainted with Black Jesus, whom produced this killer EP conducted by Australia's very own mini-arsenal, The Coffins Slave, and I was surprised, even though it's made evident by all the OSDM madness going around us, of the quality of such a young act, and now, the grim blasphemers have found the perfect spot to continue to hon their artillery and ruthlessly rivet disgusted attention on themselves as they find the terrific execution spot for modern repugnant bruisers like them to feast; the terrific Hell's Headbangers Records. ''Black Jesus Saves'' is, despite all of simple features, an oblique death metal observation, belonging to both the primordial grindcore finesses of Repulsion and Terrorizer, and the more straightforward death metal footings of the bands from the same era, some Bolt Thrower circa 1988-1989, Benediction, Cancer and ''Altars Of Madness'' era Morbid Angel, all contained with frothing rage that exposes them maliciously.

Much like the grotesque demon-pope arousing gruesome energy to its befouled minions, emerging from a rotten stockpile of viscera and blasphemy, the music is disgusting. Black Jesus obtains the perfect balance between mid-paced lurches, pure grindcore fueled aggression and stockier tremolo barrages, and despite the brevity of each track and the entire EP, the band dishes out multiple variants of pain and repugnance, and provides a crude consistence and platform to plow upon for the duration. And the vocals too are horrific, almost vampiric growls that only aggravate the sickened condition of the riffs, bile erupting as the tremolos race through your ears. ''Black Jesus Saves'' may still remain somewhat generic compared to its annual components who have festered and befouled many deaf ears, but it has a great, frivolous deadliness to it which I can't easily free myself from, especially after hearing the nebulae-caked dirty thrash chugs they can conjure on ''Atrocity Generator''.

For now, the band remains victorious with only a small compendium of riffs at their hand, but with further endeavors they may be able to join ranks with modern cadaver grinders including Tormented, Revolting and their newly formed label mates Gouge, who also have great fervor for a very similar style. Releases like this come very often (and I think that's made obvious by now) but most revivalists tend to drag us on and on with sleep-injecting drudgery, and I certainly do love it when bands like Black Jesus can fabricate through simple brute accuracy; fresh and deadly splashes of rocking, rank old school death metal. An easily recommended experience for fans of semi-submersed, spurious death/grind, and +1 for Australia and The Coffins Slave.

Highlights:
Atrocity Generator
Black Jesus Saves
The Devouring

Rating: 81%

Engulfed - Through The Eternal Damnation

I really don't feel very zealous talking about bands which imitate the infinitely favored fashion of semi-subterranean subconscious adorning cavern-entranced hollows of desolation, simply described as Incantation worship, but I definitely get a flashing tinge of excitement when I dig out a band I dig which actually comes from my home country, Turkey, and please, throughout this review, excuse my exaggeration and fervor for one of the newer bestial burden-carriers of the futile scene; Engulfed. As you may understand, Turkey is one of those countries which absolutely cannot muster bands that can race with their global contemporaries, and given that harsh fact, the clamorous nebulae that Engulfed ruptures is actually quite professional and, being frank, well done. An inimical surge of beloved rancid death metal fitting over the hallow holes of cavernous gore-scribbled thrashy discharge is all that can be craved from the band's four song EP, but hell, it's hard not getting pleasure out of it.

Despite taking Incantation as the main aural focus, Engulfed do not deliberately eschew any other aesthetics that could riddle the dark clangor in a vacuous semi-enigma. The same crushing, tremolo-laced patterns remain as the signature element, but furthermore, the band does not bring fourth a jaded experience upon the table. The riffs are thrown out in a vigorous succession at the listener, which emanates a dynamic texture to all of the faster riffing, and even the doomy sections have subtle vigor to them, and the primary reason to the  formula is that the guitars haven't been over-enhanced and bulked up like some stuffed animal or any of the other acts in the same area for that matter, ultimately projecting a nicely executed blast of energetic dense tremolos shuffled and stirred with a tasty hint of USDM sordidness.

This formula is, in  a way what I'd like to call a cheat, because the riffs deliver outstanding punishment while sticking to the brute chugging techniques of USDM and the tremolo ruptures of ''Onward To Golgotha'', a rather beguiling experience for fervent fans of both sub-genres. And, I almost forgot about the doom department. While half of the EP gets gets banging to a dexterous groove, the other half lives off the continues drudgery it produces, a trudging line of misanthropic death/doom paralleling the more voluptuous quadrant. The doom, of course did not have a massive effect on me the way bands which directly focus on the scrofulous art intrigue me, but there's still a good deal of emphasis on the matter, meaning the tempos won't always be channeling the speed factor relentlessly. These are some solid, fortifications churned out with melody, one guitar working on the dispersing chords while the other exhales, slowly. And thus, Engulfed's fervor has bought them a deal with the old school death metal maniacs Hellthrasher Productions, and future releases, hopefully, will have a positive effect on me. For this EP, don't expect much, but you'll still have a morbid-as-fuck time dealing with its sparse and crushing tentacles.

Highlights:
Supreme Lord Of Blasphemy
Triumph Of The Impious

Rating: 80%

Cauldron - Tomorrow's Lost

A new traditional heavy metal resurgence is blooming and erupting voluptuously, and it's great. In a short deal of time, we got tons of fresh acts, mostly good and augmenting, and plague is on a wild surge. Sweden, Canada and the States are easily the flag-bearers in the rampage, each deliberately exposing bands in immense quality and quantity, and though Canada has been more notorious for its surgical bulk of blackened bombastic caveman and vociferous gurgle-deliverers, its still has a solid traditional heavy metal scene, and Cauldron has got to be one of the leaders of national pack of wolves. The band unleashed two consecutive full-length albums that embrace that same semi-melancholic, ball-out assault fashion of heavy metal, and on the third release, signing to modern heavy metal fodder Earache Records, they've once again succeeded in delivering the blatant and the vivacious; good news for the band's drooling fans.

Cauldron really doesn't dive much deep when it comes to penning the compositions. I mean, even though I quite enjoyed the album in general, there's always that brooding simplicity just sitting there, not sure if it should enter the derby or not, and that kind of lack of intricacy makes me feels uncertain at times, as if waiting for an explosion that's never gonna actually come. Otherwise, the whole album is in the works. They've practically mechanized their formula, projecting it the most robust way possible, and they've even started to snatch the sprinkles out from the old cookie box and start decorating the mixture. For people who are not acquainted with Cauldron's sound, let me explain briefly: the band stitches up numerous NWOBHM influences with a few segments of Mercyful Fate to boast the melancholia, and then some Maiden to keep things fresh and juicy. I actually kind of liked the limitations of extreme ecstatic energy, because the band has a ponderous base structure provided by a massive, bulbous hunk of a guitar tone, so the riffs almost sound oppressive, something like you average heavy/doom album...

There are, of course, given that the album has its fair share of dynamics, some faster hooks like ''Burning Fortune'' which shimmer with the dreary output of the chords and brisker take on the vocals. The solos are fairly impressive too; casual and crisp and they don't really break the law by exploding amid the tightly mashed doom-paced chords, more points for the band. John Decay has an interesting vocal touch, something that hovers around epic and doomy, resembling Helloween or even John Arch of Fates Warning at best. ''Tomorrow's Lost'', in total, may not be what the fans are quite expecting perhaps, thanks to the deep channeling of doom n' gloom, but with it's traditional cunning it certainly makes for a sweet treat - don't you skip this.

Highlights:
Tomorrow's Lost
Summoned To Succumb
Born To Struggle 
Burning Fortune

Rating: 85%

Lich King - Born Of The Bomb

So exposed to the crestfallen miasma of countless darkened grotesqueries and so spoiled to fervor-riddled old school death metal and retro-thrash throwbacks boasting the boisterous concoctions of modernity and archaic demonstrations of the olden acts that we've been utterly blinded by a stockpile of dirt and irrelevancy, which has blotted our sight for far too long. Given so many contenders impetuously entering the all-out assault, I've found weeding through the plentiful quantities and acquiring distinct quality to be one of the most arduous tasks of all, and yet sometimes, you get an abrupt, unexpected blast of fresh air in your face, arousing hope for today's metal trends. I'm well acquainted with Tom Martin's fellowship of thrash, Lich King, mainly because the continuous applause they're earning throughout the modern battlefield of thrash, relentlessly releasing new material, thrash after thrash, and yet, amid the ingenious tactics used to construct the band's latest effort, ''Born Of The Bomb'', I have to confide that I never had any kind of adoration for the band.

Before the release of this record, I had no reverence for the act, even less love for their cheesy zombie/nuclear devastation themes, and even if they excluded the lyrical antics from their compositions, the music was simply not diverse enough to appease me. What possible difference did the band have among tens and thousands of fresh act joining the resurgence orgy? None. And yet, ironically, ''Born Of The Bomb'' doe not really expand the band's parallel focus on thrash metal either. So why is it much more satisfying? I honestly have no idea. What was, to hundreds of Lich King fans worldwide, a simple, positive improvement and an advancement with nuances towards a robuster formula, to me, feels as if the pace has increased dramatically, stepping up from night, to day. I can't find a logical explanation for this brusque change of mind, but I believe this is mainly because the band has evolved into a more mature act, more serious, more professional, while still letting a bit of that beer-riddled guitar craze flow out of the band's harsh, street-bound  veins. In my obstinate persistence, I also believe that now, the band has truly found the sound they had been seeking for long years.

The entire record reeks of Vio-lence, Morbid Saint, Demolition Hammer, Exodus, and any other Bay Are oriented acts you can imagine. What the band aims with their developed formula, is something a little deeper than their previous efforts, as the band gives equal weight to various elements throughout to support the color of the album. Pure destruction and thrash driven wreckage is not the only target the vandals have hung on to, it seems, though surprisingly, it's one aspect that has improved. Immediately after the opener, ''All Hail'', ''We Came To Conquer'' literally collapses on the listener like rain of serrated sharp boulders, plummeting out of the sky, and unto the perplexed mass of people. The band's structural prose does not depend on the same, verse-chorus pattern anymore, as well; instead, some of the more harmonious blends like ''Agnoticism'' have a crude melodious captivity to them, which can instantly hook the listener. Tom Martin, whose vocal style I have scoffed at many times, is fucking mad, and the guy could have easily led men to battle while tearing down hunks of flesh with a wicked two-sided battleaxe.

I'm much more pleased with this record that I though I would be, and given that it's clearly one of the best pure thrash records the year has offered us up to this point, I think it deserves a good many accolades. Really, I would prefer the olden masters over the countless gimmicks anytime, but they are a few acts, or albums that I sometimes find myself liking more than several old school releases. This is definitely a nice addition to that list. May them never decline.

Highlights:
Agnoticism 
Combat Mosh
We Came To Conquer

Rating: 85,5%

Striker - Armed To The Teeth

The amount of new bands who are channeling the Gods that bestowed heavy metal upon us don't seem to be stopping anytime soon, and I am absolutely fine with that. For every handful of newer acts that tread along the same mediocre path, there is another band taking the high road and releasing quality music. Bands like White Wizzard, Cauldron, In Solitude, Trial and Enforcer have all ushered in a new era of the '80s heavy metal sound with their brilliant releases, and now Striker is looking to join the upper ranks of today's scene after releasing their second full-length "Armed to the Teeth," ten songs full of soaring vocals, heavy riffs, stellar melodies and solos, and a large dose of fuck you, old-school rock n' roll attitude that has been missing from a lot of today's acts who focus on sounding occult or epic.

Much like most of today's newer traditional metal bands, the majority of riffs and other rhythm instruments just aren't too significant as far as the memorability of each track goes when standing on their own. Most of the riffs gravitate towards typical midpaced riffs and the occasional thrashy, speed metal type riff, but I don't recall many of the riffs themselves, but that's not really a problem given the rest of the band's efforts. Dan Cleary's vocals are one of the major highlights on this record, and a major reason why "Armed to the Teeth" possesses any sort of memorability. Not only are his vocals soothing and pleasant to listen to, but they mesh with the riffs and everything else effortlessly and they make the rest of the music better. Cleary's performance and delivery also allows for the music to resonate in the listener's skull, as he can wail away and hit high notes, sing beautifully with the melodies or put on a total rocker front which gives the music an awesome Scorpions or Judas Priest kind of feel, while Striker forges on with their own sound simultaneously.

Unlike a lot of the riffs, the melodies and solos found throughout this record are entirely amazing. "Fight For Your Life" and "Feed My Fire" both retain such a high amount of replay ability because the guitar duo's use of melodies serve as the ideal backdrop for Cleary's vocals to come in and ingrain the music in the listener's brain. "It Could Be Worse" is an infectious track that is sure to be a live favorite with its catchy rock n' roll influenced riffs and very air-guitar-worthy solos. After a few listens to "Armed to the Teeth" it's no surprise as to why Striker is gaining a lot of momentum in today's scene, as this album is exactly the kind of game-changer that can propel these Canadians to a higher level. If you're a fan of any of today's better newer traditional metal acts (Cauldron and White Wizzard in particular) then there should be zero hesitation in checking these guys out, and even if you don't, it still won't be enough to stop the rush...

Highlights:
"It Could Be Worse"
"Fight For Your Life"
"Feed My Fire"

Rating: 86%

Originally written for Skull Fracturing Metal Zine.

Insepulto - Morbid Spawn Of Resurrection

Insepulto is band of certain peculiarities. Firstly, the trio hail from Costa Rica, which, although is closely on tact with some of the ruling countries which present the most bombastic brutality and cavernous void-filled obliteration of the last ten years, still doesn't have an extraordinarily spacious array of bands to keep up with their fellow South Americans. Second, peeking at the gloriously fashioned craftsmanship imbuing the archaic font of the logo, I honestly anticipated a far more esoteric, cathartic performance from these brutes, and thus, the occult themes retain plenty of mesmerizing subconscious elements into the forlorn heart of the music, a traditional paroxysm leveling at the main tendencies of the classic early 90's US death metal sound. The group is stellar in the execution in the riffs however, and the sense of boredom so scarcely passes by that you might feel as if you're being battered by a ugly horde of brute demons, a twisted, daunting seminar of pain.

''Morbid Spawn Of Resurrection'' has roots generally hovering over typical US death metal inclinations, but it's more of a patchwork than a strident, predictable path, really. Amid its rich texture, I hear numerous hints of late 80's/early 90's brutality; British influences for one, seem to be as dominant as the US influence, a composite of Cancer, Benediction and Bolt Thrower forms the frontier line of base punches and dexterous blasts, especially when the tremolos, deep and suffocating, flash into a flurried death/thrash engorgement, along with inimical South American elements to represent a bit of traditional fervor, for example, Sepultura or Executer, and even even tidbits of a frothing Sarcofago surge, for listeners who seek that sordid sauce in their dish. The rhythms are, as stated, ostentatious when rupturing with the pernicious spite of the hellish gutturals, and the band has an almost amazing sense of producing grooves and spectral moods to infuse with them, and furthermore, the brevity of the tracks is what holds the bridge between them efficient; whether you'll feel the pulverizing emissions of ''Epitome'' being hurled at your stomach, the semi-epic melodic black metal output of ''Misfortune'' or the rhythmic rumbles of the metalpunk insanity ''Orthodox'', you'll always get a sense of the album's well-constructed delivery and the band's potency in creating such dangerously shattering riffs.

Insepulto manages to create a notably strong, and very enjoyable effort, despite not quite sauntering through spurious territory. It's always good to get some fresh air out of good 'ol death metal brutality out of any utensil lying around, and the item these South Americans have picked is the dark, brooding murk of Incantation, which is, to me, a brilliant fit. What else can be said about the album? They've clearly nailed the formula even with  a bit of their own flaunting succession hinted here and there, they're old fucking school, they've perfectly executed their compositions, so the only remaining gap to fill is penning even better material - not that this isn't great, it's just not outstanding. I'm not quarreling to ask for some death metal convolution, I just want even better written brick-wall riffs, I want deeper moods; I want more. Let's just hope that these devils turn all miscreant against their ancestors like the others and disappoint us on the sequel. I don't think they will, either.

Highlights:
Summerian
Epitome
Carnal 
Orthodox

Rating: 86%