In recent years, people have written books with the intent of dispelling various so-called “myths” about wolves. I haven’t read any of them, but they’re probably trying to tell us that wolves are actually warm, loving creatures who are good parents and self-sacrificng friends.

I haven’t read those books because I’d rather continue to think of wolves as vicious, red-eyed pack animals that would just as soon rip out your jugular as look at you. Life is too civilized as it is without having someone domesticate my mental image of the wolf.

Besides, that would detract from the awesomeness of Wolvhammer as a metal-band name. It would turn it into something like Puppyhammer. Or Puppyhummer. Or something equally tame. And Wolvhammer is anything but tame.

We first heard about Wolvhammer’s debut album, Black Marketeers of World War III,  via a feature in the current issue of DECIBEL magazine, which punched many of our buttons — so much so that we ran out and bought the album fast. And we are so glad we did.  (more after the jump, including a mixtape of music inspired by Wolvhammer . . .)

Soilwork is in the midst of a headlining tour in support of its recent album The Panic Broadcast, and the three perpetrators of NO CLEAN SINGING were in the audience when the tour blew through El Corazon in Seattle on July 27.

The bands on this tour are an interesting mix. No two of them play the same style of metal. We had Soilwork’s melodic metalcore, Death Angel’s supercharged thrash, hyper-technical death metal from Augury, Mutiny Within’s aggressive power metal, Swashbuckle’s pirate thrash, and melodic death metal from Seattle’s Deathmocracy.

It was also a long night, and those (like us) who were there from start to finish got their money’s worth: Deathmocracy took the stage at about 7 p.m., and Soilwork finished a 90-minute set at 12:30 in the morning. In a nutshell, we got thoroughly deep-fried in a vat of molten metal.

In this post, we’ll give you some brief notes on the performances and a collection of our reliably half-assed photos of each band — after the jump.

Earlier today we posted an album review without naming the band or any of the songs. Standing alone, that was a pretty useless act. What good is a review if readers don’t know who the fuck we’re talking about? But we did have a reason.

The band whose album we reviewed is Impending Doom, and some people tend to love them or dismiss them not because of the music but because they’re a Christian metal band — not just a band whose members happen to be Christians, but a band whose songs are inspired by their faith and who tour in order to spread the message.

The consequence is that you can’t read a review of their music without half the review being about the fact that they’re an unabashed Christian metal band — which is probably just fine with them.

But here at NCS, we don’t love em or detest ‘em because of that fact. We focus on the music and the performances, and we happen to dig both. So we thought, just for the hell of it, we’d see what kind of reactions you had from our review without having those reactions influenced by the fact that this is Impending Doom.

Now that the mystery has been resolved, we’ll run our review again with all the camouflage removed. If you read the earlier review with the identity concealed and aren’t interested in reading it again, even with some details revealed, we’ve added something new at the end of the post (after the jump) under the heading “NEW STUFF”.  As always, feel free to flame or praise or yawn in the comments . . .

The three perpetrators of this site first saw this band as the headline act in a small, crappy little club in Portland that hadn’t been cleaned since Ronald Reagan was president. The whole place was scarred, and every surface was sticky. It was pretty full, which didn’t take a lot. There was hardly any room to move. That night, this band owned the place. The performance was explosive, and the performers had magnetic stage presence.

We saw ‘em again on another national tour the next year in Seattle at a much larger, nicer club where they weren’t the headline act. They played again with explosive energy, just blew the crowd away. The other bands were bigger names, but this one damn-near stole the show. It was like some big muscle car going full-throttle, with the tachometer in the red zone.

They’ve just released a new album, their third. We thought we’d review it without naming the band — at least not today. We’ll do that tomorrow. Yeah, there’s a reason why we’re being so mysterious. We’ll explain tomorrow.

Some of you may recognize the music we’re going to put up from the album for you to hear. If you don’t, feel free to make some guesses in the comments, and in any event, let us know whether you like it or don’t. We do. Maybe we like it partly because we have such strong memories of those two obliteratingly powerful live shows. But that’s only part of the reason.  (more after the jump, including a track to stream . . .)

I first came across the band Citi via a MySpace “add” request we received from them — and from the first listen they spun my head around so hard, I felt like that possessed, bile-spewing chick in The Exorcist.

Initially, I was going to mention them briefly in the next episode of our “Miscellany” series, but I got so intrigued by the first few songs on their MySpace page that I downloaded and listened to their entire debut album (self-released last December), which they make available for free via a link on MySpace.

By devoting that much time, I took them out of the “Miscellany” category — and by getting completely skull-fucked by the music, I became convinced that I owed them a post.

From Bakersfield and Gonzales, California, Citi describe themselves (maybe with tongue in cheek) as “a melodic thrash death black progressive metal band.” There are a few genre labels that didn’t make it into that description, but not many.

But hey, I’m not going to argue with how Citi describes their music. It’s actually pretty accurate. Besides, since the inside of my cranium now feels like it’s been carpet-bombed by this music, I’m not prepared to argue about much of anything at the moment. I’m simply floored by this album. (more after the jump, including some tracks to stream . . .)

We’ve made no secret about our admiration for The Binary Code. We thought their 2009 debut album, Suspension of Disbelief, was a remarkably accomplished work, both in conception and in execution (our review of that album can be found here).

In an interview that accompanied our album review, we found the band’s guitarist and co-songwriter Jesse Zuretti to be an unusually thoughtful and engaging dude. And when we finally got to see The Binary Code play live, as part of the METAL AS ART tour in January, we were blown away by the band’s maturity on stage and the intensity of their performance (as we said here).

So with all that, it should come as no surprise that we’ve been eagerly awaiting the band’s new EP, Priest, which is scheduled for official release on August 10. We’ve now been lucky enough to get an advance listen to the three songs on the EP (and a bonus “alternate” version of one of those songs that’s also included).

Our confidence in this band’s future was not misplaced. Priest represents another step forward for a band that was already bursting with talent and exceptional creativity. The more we’ve listen to Priest, the more we’ve found in it, and the more impressed we’ve become. This is the kind of music that engages on both a visceral and a cerebral level — it kicks like a pissed-off mule and makes you think at the same time.  (more after the jump . . .)

Imagine this: You’re sitting on a bus, minding your own business. A pale young man next to you, with blue hair, begins to twitch, and then to convulse. The eyes roll back in his head and his limbs begin to flail in a full seizure.

Before you can think what to do, he seizes your arm — and you begin to convulse too. Your eyes roll back in your head, and all the synapses in your brain begin to fire at once — and you continue to flail even when he lets go, because your brain has been sucked into a vortex of transfixing complexity.

That image begins to approximate the experience of listening to the music of a French band called 7th Nemesis. The songs are incredibly intricate and inventive. They collapse the walls between multiple genres. They are executed with a fine balance of precise skill and explosive emotion. And they thrash like the seizure of a blue-haired epileptic.

7th Nemesis was founded in 2001 with the avowed objective of “mixing the violence of extreme metal with the complexity of progressive rock structures.” They recorded a 3-track demo and a split CD and then released (in 2006) a full-length debut called Violentia Imperatrix Mundi, which they made available for free download on their website (through a link that unfortunately no longer works).

Then, after getting some attention and festival spots on the strength of that album, they did a strange thing. After adding a new drummer, they re-recorded and remixed their debut and, in July 2008, released the revised songs in the form of an album called Archetype of Natural Violence.

I don’t know how the revised songs compare to the originals, but considering them as they are, Archetype of Violence is a riveting experience — one we highly recommend.  (more after the jump, including a song to stream and a video of another one . . .)

Grave stalks the burial ground in its recently released ninth album like an undead thing that knows the territory like the back of its decaying hand.

The nine songs collectively represent a stark contrast to the modern death-metal sound of the band (Noctiferia ) whose album we reviewed yesterday. Over the near quarter-century of its existence, Grave has remained true to the early-stage school of Swedish death metal that it helped found — a school that will flunk your ass out if your mind wanders from the approved curriculum.

But if you’re in the mood to study the evil classics, with some subtle updating, Burial Ground will pay dividends. To mix our metaphors, Grave has got the bone saw gassed-up and running — rough and loud. It won’t be a clean amputation, but as the jocks say, no pain, no gain.

Throughout the album, the bass and guitar hum and buzz and crackle like massive, overloaded transformers, producing the classic, downtuned, distorted sound that reviewers have unsuccessfuly struggled for two decades to describe (for the sake of variety) without using the word “chainsaw.”

It’s not all the sound of a burred grind. Tremolo-picked leads surface in “Semblance In Black”, “Ridden With Belief”, and “Bloodtrail”. Mournful, dissonant melodies peer out of the maelstrom on songs like “Liberation” and “Conqueror”, and squalling solos erupt in rapid bursts in almost every song.

But if the sound of those Swedish death-saws isn’t music to your ears, then you ain’t gonna like Burial Ground, because there’s no escaping them.  (more after the jump, including a track to stream and some eye-catching artwork . . .)

The bands whose new albums we’re reviewing today and tomorrow are a study in contrasts. They’re both death metal bands, but they’re lined up on different ends of that playing field. Grave (the subject of tomorrow’s review) is old-school Swedish death metal. In Grave’s case, that “old school” label isn’t a cliche, because they helped build the school in the first place.

As for Noctiferia, it’s a bit more difficult to sum up their style. For now, let’s call it the bullhorn, jeep-driving, flag-waving school of death metal — except we’re guessing the only thing on the flag is a big “FUCK YOU!” in day-glo red.

Noctiferia is from The Republic of Slovenia, which is in the Balkans, just around the Adriatic to the east of Italy and south of Austria. Based on our research, Noctiferia may be the longest-running extreme metal band in Slovenia; they’re celebrating their 12th anniversary as a band this year. Join with us in throwing some horns their way in honor of their sheer bloody-minded dedication — because let’s face it, Slovenia is another one of those places that just doesn’t seem like fertile ground for a successful extreme metal enterprise.

Earlier this year, Noctiferia signed with Listenable Records, and on July 27 their fourth album will be released in the U.S., following its European release a few months ago. The album was mixed by Peter Tägtgren (Hypocrisy, Bloodbath), mastered by Jonas Kjellgren (Black Lounge studio), and it’s called Death Culture.

The title isn’t a reference to music. Lyrically, the album is an indictment of capitalist greed, the suppression of individuality by the economic and political elite, the false prophets of institutional religion, and the human propensity to sow death and destruction in ever-more horrific ways.

But as somber as the subject matter, the music is anything but. Noctiferia takes a rock-solid foundation of syncopated death metal, adorns it with everything from industrial to ethnic stylings, and then sets the whole thing on fire in a spirited romp. Noctiferia blazes with speed and fury, but prays at the altar of groove.

And among other things, the new album includes a track (“Demoncracy”) that’s our current favorite for just rocking-the-fuck out.

(more after the jump, including a track to hear and a video of “Demoncracy” . . .)

Almost two weeks ago, we tried out something new here at NCS, kind of like what some people do with their Facebook pages and Twitter accounts when they tell you hour-by-hour (or minute-by-minute) what they’re doing — except we limited our disclosures to metal and hoped it would be more interesting than a lot of the social networking blather.

To be more precise, I posted a log of exactly what I listened to or watched on that particular morning, whether it turned out to be good, bad, or indifferent. I got enough encouragement from readers that I decided to continue doing it.

In the interests of complete candor, I should say that it takes very little encouragement for me to do anything, unless it involves actual work, in which case it takes a great deal of encouragement, plus threats of being pistol-whipped.

So, here we go again — a log of exactly what I heard or saw in one of my recent sessions of poking around for new music to check out, and what I found, for better or for worse.  (after the jump, of course . . .)