THINGS YOU MAY HAVE MISSED (BUT SHOULDN’T)

(It may be April, but Andy Synn is still catching up on March’s bumper crop of releases)

Like I said last week (and also yesterday) it’s patently impossible for anyone to keep up with everything that’s released each month… so the best move is to not even try.

Of course, I’m immediately going to contradict that by covering another quartet of releases from March, but the point still stands.

After all, despite my best efforts here (and last week) I’m still not going to be able to write about the new ones from Cult of Fire (Czechia) or Cthuluminati (Netherlands) in full, or talk about the immersive Post-Metal intensity of Båkü (France) or Druma (Germany), or give hefty death-dealers Nothing (Australia) and Thanatophobia (Russia) their due.

On top of that, while I’m really liking the new Gates to Hell album the fact that they’re already signed to a big label and getting a lot of coverage means that it’s probably best for me to focus my efforts elsewhere (same for the vicious, visceral – yet slightly too long and drawn-out for its own good – new one from This Gift Is A Curse).

And even though I’ve been loving the new Teitanblood (unsurprisingly) I feel like our good buddies at AMG already said everything that needed saying about that one, so make sure you go and read their review for some cool insight into that one.

But, anyway, enough of all my that… let’s get to the music, shall we?

BURNING PALACE – ELEGY

The last thing I heard from California crew Burning Palace was their debut album in 2020, and in the years since then I’d almost forgotten about them.

It’s a good thing I remembered the name, however, as it led me to checking out their second album, Elegy, which is a huge step up in practically every way.

Interestingly enough, however, while this is immediately made obvious by the seething technicality and surging intensity of “Birthing Uncertainty” – which serves as an excellent showcase for the group’s particular brand of twisted, tangled riffage and dissonant, angular hooks (think an even more Morbid Angel influenced version of Ulcerate and/or Artificial Brain) – it’s the second half of the album which really finds the band fulfilling their true potential.

From the killer bass work which sets the tone for the blast-propelled churn of “Suspended in Emptiness” – through the lurching grooves and needling anti-melodies of “Awakening Extinction” and the bleak, blackened strains of “Sunken Veil” – to the crushing, chaotic climax of the tumultuous title-track, the last twenty-five-ish minutes are where the group really lock in… not just in terms of sheer technical tightness (honestly, the entire album is executed with punishing, pinpoint precision by everyone involved) but in terms of their creative and compositional ambitions.

In particular there’s a greater sense of ominous atmosphere – plus a willingness to occasionally ease off the accelerator to allow that atmosphere to really weigh upon the listener – which speaks volumes about their growing confidence and willingness to think outside the box, so while they may not quite be ready to step outside of the shadow of their peers and influences just yet, they definitely have the potential to deliver a true world-beater at some point in the future!

NO HAND PATH – ΜΥΣΤΙΚΙΣΜΌΣ ΤΗΣ ΕΝΗΛΙΚΊΩΣΗΣ

There’s been quite a few good Black Metal albums released this year, and even a handful of great ones (did I mention the new Cult of Fire yet?) too… and with the recent release of the second album from Hellenic hellions No Hand Path that number just increased by one more.

Over the course of these six songs (together clocking in at a tight, taut, forty minutes and change) the band power forwards with an outstanding array of ravenous riffs, malevolent melodies, and hideously headbangable hooks – streamlined, sinuous, and straight-for-the-throat opener “Διαφθορέας (Corruptor)” setting a high bar right off the bat – that displays not just the thrilling execution of the group’s impressive instrumental abilities but also the purity and clarity of their collective vision.

But there’s more to the band than just a rehash of trad Black Metal tropes – take, for example, the expansive melodic grandeur and subtle progressive impulses of “Βάπτισμα (Baptism)” or the moody doom ‘n’ gloom of “Εξορκισμός (Exorcism)”, both of which showcase the almost cinematic nature of the band’s approach – as their entire modus operandi is, by their own admission, the dismantling of traditionalism in service of their own musical agenda.

And while the purists certainly won’t be disappointed – the drums, for example, while rhythmically creative in ways above and beyond the standard Black Metal template, also aren’t afraid of just laying down a blizzard of withering blastbeats without warning, while the feverish guitars and fluid bass lines prove equally capable of slashing and burning without remorse or restraint when they need to – there’s no question that No Hand Path are a band more than willing to walk their own path.

Nowhere is this more obvious than during the stunning blend of majesty and menace that is “Προδότης (Traitor)”, a song so good it’s almost worth the price of the album entirely on its own… though, thankfully, I think you’ll find that the rest of the album is just as good, in its own way, making Μυστικισμός της Ενηλικίωσης an absolute shoe-in for many end of year lists when 2025 finally comes to an end!

PYRES – YUN

Fearlessly fusing the best bits of High On Fire, Baroness, and Mastodon into one sumptuously sludgy soup, it’s clear right from the moment that the brooding intro of “Mononeurvosa” explodes into vibrant, visceral life – erupting in a veritable volcano of humongous riffs and rough-hewn hooks – that Canada’s Pyres know exactly who they are, and in whose footsteps they’re following.

Which, to be honest, is one of the best things about this album – the band have the confidence to wear their influences out loud and proud even as they bare their souls and bare their teeth to the listener on every track, allowing the ridiculous riffosity and shameless swagger of songs like “Some, Not All, Came Back”, “Nova Cruciatus” and “Lineage” (all of which, though especially the latter, would be potential radio hits in a slightly more open and accepting world, particularly when the band lean even more into the overtly melodic and proggy side of their sound) to do their talking and make their case for them.

But as good as these songs are – and they really are, combining heaviness and hookiness and raw, raging emotion into the musical equivalent of a molotov cocktail that’s as explosive as it is drinkable – it’s those tracks which shake up the formula (such as the grungy stomp of “Granular Flow”, which owes as much to Alice In Chains as it does Crowbar, or the simmering slow-burn of hauntingly cathartic closer “Old Dogs”) or push the envelope a little bit more (just wait until you hear “A Depth Charge In A Dead Sea” in its entirety) which demonstrate just how much more Pyres are really capable of.

“A Depth Charge…” in particular proves that there’s more than meets the eye when it comes to this Canadian quartet, initially focussing things more on the proggier, Post-Rock/Metal side of things in a manner reminiscent of latter-day Isis or the sadly defunct Ancestors, then building towards a stunningly sludgy crescendo that immediately makes you want to hear the whole thing all over again (but you should resist the urge and make sure to give the rest of the record the time and attention it deserves too… and then go back and spin the entire album again from the start).

THE WARRIORS – BURN YOURSELF ALIVE

When it comes to Hardcore there’s no question that The Warriors are a goddamn institution.

Sure, they might not be quite as well-known and infamous as some of their peers, but I’ve been a fan of them ever since the Beyond the Noise days (apologies to all the “true” fan for not getting into them sooner), and over the course of their previous five albums (with the possible exception of Monomyth, which I wasn’t a huge fan of) they’ve continually reaffirmed my faith in them with track after track of punchy, punky Metallic Hardcore that owes as much to the likes of Rage Against the Machine and Refused on the one hand and Sick of It All and Snapcase on the other.

The opening mosh-crew call-out of “Warriors Wrecking Crew” lets you know right away that the band haven’t lost a step, but it’s the pugilistic, float-like-a-butterfly-sting-like-a-bee grooves of “My Blood” which really kick the album into gear, marrying bouncy rhythms and chunky, chugging riffs in one lean, mean package, after which “Those Who Know, Know Why” delivers the first outright Hardcore anthem of the album with its shamelessly aggressive intensity and irresistibly catchy chorus.

Nimble brawler “Drowning” adds a dose of Biohazard-esque spite and swagger to the record, after which “Shock and Awe” adds a more metallic edge to the proceedings, while both “Teeth” and “Perfidia” further reinforce the band’s Hardcore bona fides (especially the latter, whose beefy gang vocals and infectiously melodic riffing make the track another one of the album’s major highlights).

Speaking of highlights, the climactic quartet of “Foreign Pain” and “High Desert Heat” (which err much more towards the heavier and more metallic side of the group’s sound), the infectiously energetic “Still A Tightrope Walk” (which connects back to the band’s 2003 debut), and darkly anthemic, ultra-aggro closer  “Drag The Lake” ensure that Burn Yourself Alive ends on a series of increasing high notes, which should – if I’m any judge of things – keep at least some of you coming back for more (and more, and more).