II can be thought of as a musical triptych. Its three 19-minute-long pieces are each a distinct artistic work in their own right, filled with a degree of musical and tonal complexity that could easily be stretched out to fill an album, but when viewed together paint a larger picture, an epic journey through Elysian fields and Stygian underworlds.

MONO have shown over the years that they can pull off surprising stylistic shifts and this is one of their most thought-provoking curveballs to date. It avoids the tropes of both post-rock and of cinematic scoring as a whole and instead delivers a quietly beautiful listening experience that hopefully paves the way for future endeavours.

An incendiary and energetic work that captures both Quach’s exacting precision for creating unsettling but all-too-natural soundscapes and Girt’s turbulent energy but exists in its own pocket universe.

She takes a largely minimalist approach to her infectiously out-there pop and there’s an inherent surprise with every moment of this record that it’s as expansive as it is.

These are less 16 remixes than they are 16 separate collaborations between like minds, and every one is magnificent in its own right.

It’s a labyrinthine work, one where corridors sprout seemingly at will and serve only to draw the listener deeper into darkness, confusion and, if they are lucky, realisation.

Paired with the band’s strong ability to craft a compelling and emotionally complex narrative without lyrics, it sets Alder up as a standout, and occasionally inspired, presence in an increasingly crowded marketplace.

They have a quality that puts them up their with the greats, with the likes of Amorphis, Reverend Bizarre and, naturally, Swallow The Sun.

Taken together, the two halves of Fanges confidently bridge the gap between what has come before and what the band have always shown the potential to create. Those who were already on board will lap up what’s here but anyone who’s interested in challenging music being made by skilled artists will want to have a listen to this.

David Bowes spoke to Boris guitarist and vocalist Wata to discuss the creation of their latest full-length ‘W’ and her new signature pedal.

As their second record of 2021, it maybe felt like King Buffalo would have played it safe and stuck to familiar terrain, and in a sense they have. It doesn’t have the same impetuousness as its predecessor but by opting for longer, more atmospheric cuts they have played to their strengths and delivered yet another instant classic.

The two tracks on this short EP come from very different places but the soul and messages are the same – messages of journeying, of people and of the land from which it takes its name.

The second album for Chelyabinsk psychedelic doomsters Megalith Levitation taps into something primal, spiritual and genuinely vast across its four tracks, infusing old-school riffing with left-field meanderings and druidic chants that feel like they could herald the coming of Yog-Sothoth with each line.

David Bowes caught up with Jon Howell of Bay Area sludgers Kowloon Walled City to discuss their triumphant return to form.

Dust Mountain are a psychedelic folk rock band from Tampere, Finland. We spoke to founders Henna and Toni Hietamäki to find out the roots of their sound.

David Bowes spoke candidly with Emma Ruth Rundle to discuss her most honest record to date.

Korrumpert Integritet is undoubtedly a niche release, but then so is everything that Viviankrist has ever had a hand in. It’s difficult, unsettling, often obtuse and it’ll take you somewhere that you probably don’t want to go but sometimes, that’s everything you could want in a record.

Funeral Chasm may be a relatively new entity but there’s obviously considerable experience at work here and that, combined with a reverence for the past and a willingness to push past its boundaries, is reason enough to take notice.

A triumph for those who love their death metal dark, gritty and vicious, and also for vintage horror movie aficionados. And if you like both? Then yeah, you might want to give this a spin.

A remarkable and surreal work that’s a cut above most modern black and post-black metal. Whether that’s because it’s free of the clichés and rehashed sentimentality that we’re now drowning in, or if it’s simply down to Luo Jing’s singular vision and his willingness to embrace eastern and western phrasing and structure, isn’t clear but at the very least, you won’t be hearing anything else like it any time soon.

An impressive work of atmosphere, misery and mountain-sized riffing. Ambitious enough to push its own boundaries in composition and musicianship yet comfortable enough to remain true to the hallmarks of death-doom’s classics, this is a short, sharp descent into the abyss that deserves recognition.