Aug 262011
 

(Andy Synn takes us into the weekend with his review of the first album from the UK’s Enochian Theory.)

Hello again ladies and gents, here’s another taste of something a little different that barely comes under the site’s remit, yet I feel will appeal to the more expressive and open-minded of you all the same.

Enochian Theory are a UK prog band of expansive ambition and mesmerising melody where majestic cleans rule the roost and growled vocals are definitely the exception, rather than the rule. Very much art for art’s sake, the enigmatic complexity of each song’s serpentine structuring is offset by the soaring, infectiously melodic vocals of frontman Ben Harris-Hayes, whose emotive delivery and harmonious, scintillating lyrical expositions contribute to making the album that rarest of things, both an immediate pleasure and a long-term investment of impressive quality and intriguing depth. The candid, at times even painfully raw, nature of the singing gives the whole expansive, captivating affair a recognisably human element which serves as an anchor point no matter how convoluted or complex the music may become.

When absorbed in the album itself, I actually struggled to compare it directly to any external influence, so distinctive is its sound, although links can be drawn, very favourably, to fellow British prog luminaries Anathema and Porcupine Tree, along with the solo works of PT’s own Steven Wilson. Yet of greatest interest to the readers of this site will be the sonic connections to the emotionally complex solo work of Devin Townsend, the raging ambience of latter-day Isis, and the mind-bending instrumental excursions more commonly attributed to Tool. Yet Enochian Theory themselves are very much a singular entity, these comparisons barely scratching the surface of what the three-piece actual sound like in full-flight.   (more after the jump .. . .) Continue reading »

Aug 262011
 

(TheMadIsraeli, who originated our now-continuing series of look-backs at metal classics, provides this latest installment, focusing on the 1988 debut by California’s Forbidden.)

Thrash metal in a lot of ways IS metal to me.  It’s the genre that, when I think about metal, I gravitate to automatically.  The energy, the frantic rage and desperation, THE FUCKING SPEED AND THE RIFFS!  It’s always astonishing to me when I meet a metalhead who doesn’t like thrash.  That’s like not liking pizza, or beer, or the combination thereof.

Forbidden was a thrash band I’d always heard about but never bothered to check out, dismissing them as a cult band who were viewed as being more legitimate than the more popular thrashers because they simply weren’t mainstream.  Boy was I wrong, and it took one unexpected circumstance to open my eyes: My girlfriend at the time made me check out Forbidden’s music.  Yes people, my girlfriend at the time had better music than I did, AND was hotter than I was, AND was more talented.  Hopefully, I’m on my way to catching up, at least on the quality of music I have.

Forbidden Evil is the typical fan favorite, as well as mine, but for good reason.  Consisting of a badass set of pipes by the name of Russ Anderson, a fierce guitar duo in Craig Locicero (one of my fav guitarists of all time mind you) and Glen Alvelais, Paul Bostaph on drums, and Matt Camacho on bass, Forbidden were poised to take the thrash circuit by storm with the release of this album. (more after the jump . . .) Continue reading »

Aug 252011
 

We all live in two worlds: the face-to-face world, the world of flesh and blood, populated by the people with whom we interact in person on a daily basis, and the electronically enabled world, in which we interact with people we’ve never met. In my face-to-face world, most of the people I know aren’t metalheads. The people I work with and most of my friends aren’t into metal, and don’t have any idea that I have this blog. They’d be terribly confused if they knew.

I do know people in the flesh-and-blood world who are into metal — people I see at Seattle clubs pretty regularly, a handful of musicians, and a few people I’m very close to, but in my circle of friends, they’re outnumbered by people who don’t get the attraction of metal at all. The truth is that I “know” far more people who are metalheads in the electronic world than I do in the face-to-face world, and I’ve “met” most of them through NCS.

The headbangers from those two worlds, as a group, aren’t a statistically valid sample, and I’m certainly not a trained sociologist, but when I think about all the metalheads I know and I throw in the ones I read about, I draw some conclusions about why I’m drawn to them. In most ways, I think they’re like most people. They’re not any smarter or dumber than anyone else — it’s basically the same Bell curve. They’re not any more or less fair, any more or less conscientious, any more or less moral or “deviant”, any more or less hard-working, no more immune or susceptible to pain or joy, no less needing of love and friendship, no more or less heedless of the feelings of others.

Despite the vaunted extremes of the metal scene, I don’t even think most metalheads are any more individualistic or independent than the average person either. Because, let’s face it, human beings are social creatures. We’re herd animals. We need standards and we conform to conventions, and most of us tend to be followers instead of leaders. It just happens that our herd is smaller than the big herds that swarm around us, and our conventions seem alien to the members of those larger herds. Having said all this, however, I do think metalheads are different in certain ways, and those differences are what draw me to them. Yes, part of it is that they use the words “fuck” and “fucking” more often than most people, but there’s more. (after the jump . . .) Continue reading »

Aug 252011
 

(TheMadIsraeli has another discovery for us, and another free download that we’re hosting for an impressive young band from Gothenburg, Sweden.)

100 Knives Inside drummer Nikolaj Sloth Lauszus messaged me one day and told me he had some friends of his he wanted me to check out.  USUALLY when a band member wants me to check out a band they’re friends with, the band typically sucks.  And hard.  However, Science Of Demise is a whole other case entirely.

As in a fucking awesome one.  This is Science Of Demise’s debut LP Submerge. (more after the jump . . .) Continue reading »

Aug 252011
 

(Would you wanna run into these dudes in a dark alley? I think Phro would. Yes, we have a guest-review from the tentacle master hisself. Which means that if you have children, they need to be locked up in the next county before you read this. And if you don’t have children, well just write that off the list of your life goals. My anus feels raw just reading this.)

12:24…12:24…12:24…12:25…

The red glow of the alarm clock filled my room like an over-sized cock slapping you in the face.  It wouldn’t go away, and it wouldn’t let you forget that it was there.  And it kind of made my head hurt.

I closed my eyes again and rubbed them—wait.  Why were my hands covered in warm…liquid.  Oh, god, I thought, not a-fucking-gain…what the hell happened here??

I slowly rolled onto my belly and felt something poking my hip.  It felt squishy.  I assumed that was not good.  After sighing dejectedly, I pushed myself to my feet and attempted to find the light switch.  The moment light bathed the room I vomited like a dog chewing on grass.

Let’s back up 24 minutes.  (more after the jump . . . oh yes . . . much, much more) Continue reading »

Aug 242011
 

Well now, when you offer to send people free t-shirts, the least you can do is give them an update, so they don’t think you’re just fuckin’ with them after a too-late night in the neighborhood watering hole.

If we were a really top-flight, professional web site that had discovered ways of milking our traffic for actual monetary gain, we’d have our shit together. We’d already have the fuckin’ shirts made and in the mail. However, as I think I’ve made clear, we’re just a broke-down, jake-leg, half-assed labor of love created by an impulsive cretin (me) plus some other people who actually have a brain but remarkably still send me writings to publish. With no advertising, because, well . . just fuck that raw.

That means that we’re not a smoothly functioning, well-oiled machine. We don’t yet have a contract with a shirt-screen-printer to make the shirts we’re giving away, because we spend too much time listening to music and not enough time making arrangements to print shirts. BUT, we’re pretty damned close to getting that part of this project done.

The main point I want to convey is that WE DON’T FUCKIN’ LIE WHEN IT COMES TO MASSIVE WALL OF PENIS! We WILL be sending the shirts out. Just give us a little more time. By the way, remarkably enough, we still haven’t maxed out on our limit of 100 shirts. So, if you think your gramma wants a shirt with Cephalopodic Sperm Packets right on the front for her birthday (and what else can you think of to give your gramma for birthday?), hit us up.

And, y’know, if she wants a shirt with Sperm Howitzer on the front, you’ll just have to tell her to be patient. It will come. That will be the next shirt. Tell her it’s a reason to live.

Aug 242011
 

Well, the old fuckin’ day job, which persists in being a jealous mistress, has got me traveling again. That will put a crimp in my output for the next few days. Fortunately, other folks are stepping up to provide the content. And you know what happens when you put a crimp in a garden hose and then let it go.  Just wait ’til I get uncrimped!

But, as crimped as I am, I had to make time for this new video. You remember RZYZYXR, don’t you? Sure you do! We featured them here only 6 weeks ago. How could you forget an eye-catching, palindromic name like that? I’m still not sure exactly how to pronounce the name. I’m just calling them sexy, because listening to their music is like . . . well, you know.

We’ve been waiting eagerly for their new music video for a song called “Nonzero”, and I got an eagerly awaited e-mail from the band this morning with news that it’s finally out. The verdict? Well, let’s just say that groups like Textures and CiLiCe need to move over and make room, because they’ve got some blazing new company.

Unlike the first video, it appears that for this one the instrumentalists in the band (who are overseas — Russia, I think) managed to get in the same room with their talented Florida-based vocalist Thomas Wills. The only unfortunate part about that is it appears they killed him. Back to the drawing board! I’ll tell you what — this song is fuckin’ killing me, too! It’s just unadulterated awesomeness. Watch it after the jump. Continue reading »

Aug 242011
 

(NCS writer TheMadIsraeli reviews the new album from Vader, but I can’t resist tossing in my two cents at the end, too.)

Vader is a band I hold very dear. They were a band who captured me late in my metal history but have since become an essential staple, and a Top 10 band of all time for me.  By my lights, no one else in death metal plays with such speed and venom, while carrying it off with a sense of imperial might and regal dignity.

I’ve been looking forward to Welcome To The Morbid Reich like you wouldn’t believe. Every time this band drops a new album, they stomp out the competition, and the only members of the death metal elite who can even begin to compete are Dying Fetus, Suffocation, and Immolation. Yes, we now have Fleshgod, yes, we now have Revocation, but neither of them have the cred, the PERFECT 10+ album discography, and the musicianship that Piotr Wiwczarek and whoever he recruits into the line-up lately manage to generate. (He’s a hell of a recruiter, too. I mean, this guy had Krzysztof Raczkowski behind the kit. One of the greatest drummers extreme metal ever saw (R.I.P Doc).)

I’m here to tell you this is probably Vader’s best work since the mighty De Profundis, the thrashier onslaught of The Beast, and the cacophony of brutality that was Impressions In Blood. To sum it up for you…

THIS ALBUM WILL TEAR YOU TO SHREDS! (more after the jump . . .) Continue reading »

Aug 232011
 

Just when I thought no one was going to give Disma a run for their money this year in the sweepstakes of monstrous, old-school death metal, Entrails has arrived with The Tomb Awaits. But the tomb is not awaiting. Entrails has already sealed us inside, and decaying undead things are starting to crawl hungrily in our direction.

The appeal of old-school, Swedish-style death metal never seems to wane, and you don’t have to look hard to find newer bands embracing the music as their own. But it takes more than retro affinity, old HM-2 distortion pedals, and guitars tuned to drop-Z to summon up the black spirits of old Dismember and Grave, Unleashed and Entombed. Authenticity is what we want, and Entrails brings it, while adding a special flair that also keeps the sound fresh (or freshly desiccated) without sacrificing the essential aura of festering putrescence.

Originally taking shape in 1991 in a small converted woodshed outside of Växjö, Sweden, Entrails have roots that sink deep into the morbid scene. The band died out by 1998 without ever releasing a demo of their material, but circa 2009, guitarist Jimmy Lundqvist resurrected some of the band’s old tapes and began to re-record the songs in a home studio, eventually recruiting Jocke Svensson (Birdflesh, Litania, Devilry) to provide the ghoulish vocals.

After producing a pair of demos and adding members to the band, Entrails finally released their debut album, Tales From the Morgue, in 2010, after mixing and mastering by the almighty Dan Swanö. As it happens, Mr. Swanö did the mix and master on the new album, too, in addition to contributing guest vocals. (more after the jump, including a song premiere from The Tomb Awaits . . .) Continue reading »

Aug 232011
 

(Andy Synn reviews Opus Victum, the debut EP by an impressive Icelandic band called Atrum.)

I’m very happy today to be bringing you a review of this Icelandic band’s stunningly impressive debut EP. I discovered the group after hearing about their recent performance at Eistnaflug, Iceland’s premiere metal festival where they appeared alongside Triptykon, Solstafir and The Monolith Deathcult, holding their own against these impressive acts with refined skill and power.

This extreme metal quartet’s music blurs the line between black and death metal, melding them with inspirations and aspirations drawn from classical music, to craft an epic blizzard of blackened fury and ground-shaking death metal heft that recalls a more deathly Keep Of Kalessin wrapped in a cold and venomous shroud of despondency.

Ymir” opens the record with teasing strains of classical brass that quickly descend into a torrent of hellish blasting and crackling, electrified riffs, evoking barren, storm-lashed landscapes of wind and shadow. Piercing torrents of martial brass penetrate the blackness as the band whiplash back and forth between overwhelming fury and rolling, unpredictable groove, the vocals delivered with bite and conviction – their slithering, venomous delivery accented by guttural expulsions of hate and bile.

The song’s mid-section wears its Emperor influence proudly in its nuanced, shining drum work and imperious keyboard lines, as the band’s multiple vocalists engage in some dark and subtle harmonies. The soaring and impressive solo work that follows is underpinned by an avalanche of kick drums, while the vocals continue to impress both in their versatility and intriguing delivery that recalls a less epic, yet more violent and more unshackled Thebon from Keep Of Kalessin. (more after the jump . . .) Continue reading »