I wanted to review this ten-year-anniversary reissue of Skinny Puppy’s comeback album

partly because I remember such ambivalence about their 2004 return at the time. First, being so

excited about any new activity, having only discovered the band’s trippy, dark industrial dystopia

after their apparently terminal demise; and then subsequently being pretty disappointed on hearing

this album (and barely listening to it since). Then, I was skeptical about the band’s world tour,

but dutifully bought a ticket to their show at the London Astoria even though I kind of expected

something horrible, and was blown away by a spectacular expedition through the dark alleyways

and subterranean tunnels of the band’s back catalogue, with the new album (in my experience at

least) scarcely referenced. So it seemed that for me, Skinny Puppy were always best listened to

somehow from a distance, years after the fact: time to revisit The Greater Wrong of the Right.

At an appropriate volume, the opening of first track ‘I’mmortal’ is pleasingly disorienting in

familiar style, with hissing static building and giving way to a jerky rhythm, the threat of convulsion and

collapse balanced with steely, undead compulsion. As the track develops, it becomes clear that the

2004 reanimation has Skinny Puppy, as before, grafting electronic dance beats with gothic synth

swirls and industrial menace, though here assimilating an updated drum’n’bass sound, in a similar

vein to Pitchshifter’s attempts at enlivening distorted metal guitar sound with urban dance rhythms.

The vocals, treated but clearly audible in the repeated chorus line “just looking for something” are

quite a leap from Ogre’s earlier unhinged barking. Though the electronic modification of the voice

itself fits just as well with the sonic post-industrial, cyborg dystopia, it has the effect of making

the lyrics - gasp! - easy to follow. There are even some complete sentences!

‘Pro-Test’ has the familiar big, big drums, stabs of guitar distortion and floating, ominous synths which jolt

into freefall before being recombined into the industrial dance beat, but again the voice jars with what

otherwise seems like development from earlier Skinny Puppy. This time Ogre’s vocal delivery is all

streamlined wordplay flowing more like toasting or rapping than his earlier deliberately abrupt snarl. On

‘Goneja’, the same flowing lyrical delivery appears as on ‘Pro-Test,’ after a classic Skinny Puppy sci-fi synth

intro breaking into an all-over-the-place beat created by electronic samples, keyboards and treated

percussion. But while I specifically remember being turned off ten years ago by a cheesy rapid-fire and

repetitive chat, listening again reveals a catchy rhythm and melody that seemingly embedded themselves

like a parasite years ago and lay dormant, ready to be reactivated.

However, for most of the record I find the vocals grate and obstruct full enjoyment of the sounds. While I

admittedly prefer the earlier style, the issue is not so much the phrasing or accent of the voice itself, but the

fact that the vocal line then has the responsibility of leading in a much more conventional pop-song style,

rather than being left submerged in the background to shriek of poisoned and perverted nature from an

iron cage of neglect and abuse. In ‘Use Less’ the message has already been hammered home in the title of

‘Use Less’, even before the lyrical lecture begins, 18 seconds into the song. Far more interesting are the

vocals that take a slightly more restrained role, such as later in the same song when a shouting but struggling

voice strains to be heard over a massed but still somehow indistinct chorus, or in the evocative last parts

of ‘Past Present,’ where cyborg wails mesh with the synths and relentless beats to occupy an uncanny space

between the severe industrial austerity and the trippy, hedonist abandon of a

psytrance rave.

Skinny Puppy’s signature style was always an experimental melange of heavily-processed

and enormous-sounding drums, unnerving and disconnected samples from horror movies, opulent

synth melodies and barked vocals. It seems unfair to criticise such an innovative and wildly creative

band for changing style, experimenting and updating their references, particularly given the

necessity of personnel changes since the tragic death of Dwayne Goettel in 1995. But translated

from the 80s and early 90s to the early 21st should sound exactly like that again, or if they should be

fiddling with the latest in studio gadgetry and sounds from more contemporary musical styles. ‘Ghostaman’,

for example, has a familiar soundscapey introduction, but the beat which enters feels rushed, perhaps

anxious to fit in with more modern dance culture, rather than continuing the unhurried, almost stately yet

relentless drill rhythms married with ethereal synth cycles which made Skinny Puppy tracks from

‘Smothered Hope’ (1982) through ‘Deep Down Trauma Hounds’ (1987) and all the way to ‘Inquisition’ (1992)

so darkly compelling and also so danceable.

The dynamics of The Greater Wrong of the Right in comparison to these previous excursions

seem a little flat, and despite the more atmospheric start to ‘Neuwerld’ there’s not much variation in

the tempo. This might in part be down to the production, or a desire to fit in as many bits and pieces

as possible, rather than create a dense and threatening but still varied atmosphere haunted by

keyboard melodies. It might be that there was a little too much concern over the album being ready

for what was a rabidly anticipated return amongst the diehard fans at least, and this resulted in a

slightly too polished, too finished result. But there are still irrepressible glimpses of Skinny Puppy’s

incredible gift for evoking mutated, radioactive, weird worlds: the best moments in each track are

all subtle bits at the edges, halfway-point interludes or the dying echoes at the end of a song, when

the heavy percussion machines breakdown to allow climbing and humming synths to emerge like

strange weeds with delicate flowers recolonizing the cracks between the concrete. Listening to a

reissued comeback album in retrospect, especially after that comeback became an ongoing project,

was always going to highlight continuities and differences with the unique legacy of 80s/90s Skinny

Puppy. The band themselves have recently played with this myth-remaking, by including a new

version of 1982 song ‘Solvent’ on their 2013 album Weapon, for example. I enjoyed revisiting The

Greater Wrong of the Right: maybe I’ll listen to the rest of the new record as well, in ten years or so.

A chapter I wrote about Skinny Puppy’s earlier recordings, ‘“A Spectre So Violent: Monstrous Logic

and the Malevolent City in the Music of Skinny Puppy” will appear in the forthcoming book Urban

Monstrosities, edited by Alexandra McGhee and Joseph Lamperez (Cambridge Scholars Press).

I was given this tape by a Justin Coleman, member of the main project of this band, Krigsgrav. I am always interested in listening to new music, especially locals from my homeland, the great state of Texas and after chatting with Justin - a really awesome guy who knows his black metal, I was excited to listen to this tape.

Atmospheric black metal is always a genre that is just thrown and labeled on a lot of bands. Some do it well, some seem just to drone on, which in the end gets boring. I always think the label means more than just "We play long intros to be spooky". I think to really capture the term "atmospheric" you have to have a little emotion, whether it be bleak, sorrowful, ominous, or dark. It has to really hit the listener in the feels and project a kind of image in the mind.

The beginning track, 'North' opens with the howls of wolves and the sounds of a crackling fire, the emotion it brings is primitive. A perfect entrance to the rest of the album which continues the archaic pagan tone.

Heimar's "atmosphere" is epic and is not at all boring! The album is a polar wind of raw aggression. Their sound reminds me of the old Norwegian black metal sound. Symphonic guitar rhythms, raw growling vocals that sing of elder gods who's names and stories are lost in time, blasting the drums of hostility. Most of their songs hit above the six minute mark, but capture the listener, like an ancient bard telling of epic battles and archaic narratives.

'Into The Fray' is a track which really stands out for me. For being 10 minutes long, it seems not long enough. This track has it all, running double bass, weaving guitar work, a thunderous bass line; a soundtrack in which you can ride into battle and slaughter all your enemies before you.'Forgotten Sons' is also another mind blowing track, with the ambiance of an oncoming storm, the track erupts into a fury.

Their album continues weaving a story, a tale that excites the mind and embodies a truly ancient aggressive sound. Atavism is an album that any fan of black metal will truly, I think, enjoy. I highly recommend this album to anyone who is a fan of black metal and support your local scene!

'Rape'. That's the title of the opening track of From All Purity, the 5th full-length from Chicago's Indian. It's immediately clear from the maelstrom of bludgeoning noise that escapes the speakers within the opening minute that this will be a listening experience that is as deeply unpleasant as that crass choice of title. Harrowing howls, squalls of feedback and abrasive riffs all ensure that you're never comfortable for a single second, and even in the less outright confrontational passages the intensity never dims one iota.

They follow much the same template on 'The Impetus Bleeds', with more painful feedback and thunderous percussion backing some genuinely disturbing vocal interplay between guitar/vocal duty-sharing duo Dylan O'Toole and Will Lindsay. It may not exactly be anthemic, catchy, or even listenable in a conventional sense, but it's the highlight of the whole album for me. Unfortunately that's because things go steeply downhill from here...

For a song called 'Directional', this track never seems to actually go anywhere; there's a distinct lack of recognisable riffs, and the plodding pace make this a pretty uninspiring trudge through 6 minutes of drudgery. Following track 'Rhetoric Of No' is a model of dynamism in comparison, the ferocious vocals and staccato bursts of distortion immediately going for the jugular. The track's dalliances in ear-piercing noise effects do enough to unsettle the listener, but it never quite distracts from the lack of interesting rhythm. I mean it does have a rhythm, but you'll be falling asleep mid-headbang, it's so bland and uninspired.

'Clarify' begins with screes of feedback and drones, the textures interesting in themselves, but it goes on a little too long to really qualify as merely an intro, and just gets annoying after a while when you realise that this is what the whole track consists of. The rotten ranting of the heavily-distorted vocals recalls similar recent releases from Gnaw and Culted, who in all honesty do the noise-inflected blackened doom thing far more effectively and interestingly.

Ultimate track 'Disambiguation' is a return to structure, and even features some excellent subtly melodic guitar work, but it still feels too tightly constricted. Instead of revelling in the foreboding atmosphere that all the best doom is shrouded in, Indian just sound weighted down by it; turgid, sluggish, and worst of all bored. I don't know if it's the performances captured here, or something else that I can't quite pin down, but even after several spins I still find the majority of the album to be lacklustre.

I really wanted to like From All Purity. On paper it sounds like it could've been my new favourite album, and I'm genuinely disappointed that it's not. Whilst I am a fan of all the various genres they incorporate into their sound, Indian don't seem to have any idea where they want to take their unsettling racket, and despite technically ticking all the right boxes, it just feels lacking somehow.

It's not a chance that Amarok and Hell have chosen a burning forest for the cover artwork of their split cassette. Holy shit, if this is not a burning album I have no idea which other album can be considered to be one! The label Peasanta Urfolk is now going to release the vinyl format of the split album that sees the collaboration of two bands that are for sure different but that work so well together like in the best puzzle. 

Amarok is a four piece doom, black metal and sludge band from Chico, California, that has been spreading its music since 2011. Hell is a duo from Salem, Oregon, that produce its heavy, doom and sludge music under a really good name. Both Amarok and Hell have already released a split album last year, respectively with Pyramido and with Thou, so this collaboration follows a path they have already explored and that, according to what I heard, worked perfectly.

Two tracks spanning a length of about 40 minutes is what the two bands are offering with a LP whose main tag could easily be killer, burning, engaging and highly recommended for fans of bands such as Thou, Northless and Lightbearer.

With a total running time of approximately 20 minutes, Amarok brings the listener into the heaviest world you can imagine. The whole LP is a vulcan and the first part of 'V: Red Oak Wisdom' is the most impressive eruption you have ever experienced. There's no intro and there are no delays: the song starts burning from the first notes. Everything changes around the eight minute mark when Amarok offers you the scene after the eruption. Everything is quiet and your steps are heavy among the consequences of the cataclysm. It's a beautiful and deep sound with metallic riffs that give intensity to the already touching atmosphere. When the vocals slowly come back you have the confirmation that the enemy is behind the corner and the space created by the suspended notes are full of tension.

There's no space instead in the second half of the split LP. So forget the illusion offered by Amarok and start diving into the heaviest music that Hell has delivered to date. On their half, Hell deliver three songs – 'Deonte', 'Oblitus' and 'Dolore'. - and if you are in the mood of something suffocating and crushing here it is what you need. Approximately 18 minutes of sonic molestation, offering no escape for the entranced listener. Somewhere there are also some savage harsh vocals that I'm sure will blow black metal lovers away. The last four minutes of the Hell side are the darkest of the LP and are so heavy and exciting that it is like if the vocals come in and just pick you up and throw you into a wall. The violin makes the last minute epic.

I listened this LP countless times before starting writing about it and I enjoyed it a lot. What at the beginning scared me, ended up conquering me. And now I love it and I love its contrast and I recognise in it a huge emotional power.

Amarok and Hell, again, demonstrate that great collaborations can happen.

There are few things better in life than re-living one’s youth and through metal a lot of us are able to do that every day. Sure, most of us don’t have the hair, the earrings, or in some cases the hairspray anymore but nevertheless sometimes something comes our way that creates an instant flashback to the bygone days of zero responsibility. While I was perusing the Ech(((o)))es and Dust submissions I came across a new promo from one of my all-time favorite guilty pleasures, well, the singer of one of my all-time favorite guilty pleasures anyway. Jizzy Pearl, former singer of Love/Hate is releasing a solo album, when I saw this I was instantly transported back to 1990 and cruising around town with the windows opened and blaring 'Why Do You Think They Call It Dope'. The album Blackout in the Redroom was one of my favorites at that time. It was the simplicity and stupidity that initially drove me to the album but as I listened more and more there was, at times, something deeper to the songs themselves. This feeling only increased in my opinion with the 1992 album Wasted in America a very nice compliment to their debut album. But alas, as with most of the Glam bands of the ‘80s and early ‘90s grunge and internal infighting made Love/Hate no more.

So how does Jizzy do on his own? Well, I had high hopes and little confidence in what this album would sound like. But in complete honesty there are some very good things on the album; Crucified is a solid mid-tempo rocker with a really good guitar solo and a pretty catchy hook associated with it and it has the feel of the old school sound that I grew to love from this band. The opening track 'Hanging You Out To Dry' has the proper Jizzy Pearl lyrical liberties that make this album fun to listen to and try and translate. I mean who else remembers the lyrical gems like “She’s a knock down blue eyed slut psycho virgin tease” from the song 'Rock Queen'? Jizzy does not let us down on this little album either. But in fairness Jizzy does stay true to the blues sound that was the foundation of Jizzy’s previous band.  

It did come as a surprise but this 6 song album gets better and better with each song and there really is some potential to these songs. Plus, even though I have jokes, there is some interesting musical directions in a few of the songs and Mr. Jizzy at least tried to expand the sound of his music. The overall likability of this album is that it still sounds like an album that Jizzy’s previous band would release and it does take one back to the early ‘90s. For as much as the temptation had to be there to mess with the sound it seems that restraint won the day, which is nice. Songs like 'Love is All' and 'You’re Making Me Nervous' show some promise and the lyrical content and concepts are fun.

Look, much like it was back when I had a mullet, four earrings, and wore nothing but black concert shirts, black jeans and converse high tops sometimes we have to grow up. By the sound of this album Jizzy and his band (whoever they are) have done just that. Crucified allows you to be a little nostalgic of the past while enjoying an album with a little bit of a current sound. I say give this little album a chance if you liked any of Jizzy’s previous band’s albums even a little.

I have a confession to make. Until this week, I had never heard one note of music by Sleep Lady. I was aware of their existence. I  started to follow guitarist Michael Hayden on Twitter based on who my twitter followers followed (there is too much usage of the word ‘follow’ here arrrrrrrrghhhh) and the fact that he has also written for the site (check his reviews here). But  never got around to checking them out. So my apologies to Michael, Mario, Sarah, Kristy & Tony for being so lazy that I couldn't even be bothered click a link. Sorry.

But that all changed on the 07/01/14. Sleep Lady released a new track entitled Central Valley. I’d seen a few tweets referring to the new music so decided it was about time that I actually listened to them. Now, I don’t know what was going on in my mind at that point in time. It was a regular Tuesday morning in work for me. But when I hit play 18 minutes and 20 seconds later, I was changed. I had heard something that was…. monumental. It took me on a journey that I was not expecting. I must have looked rather strange sat at my desk with that dumbstruck look on my face. This song had connected with me in a way I would never have imagined.

Since then I have listened to it a couple of times. And it’s like one of the Dungeons & Dragons 20-side die, no matter how many times you play it (or roll it, in this metaphor’s instance) it displays a different face. So what I decided to do was to play the track and write my thoughts as I went along. It was almost stream of consciousness. Reading it back, I could see that the song was creating images of waves, the sea, cliffs and rocks. Of storms and clouds and lightning and thunder. None of this is too surprising as I used to live in Whitley Bay and could see the North Sea literally from the end of my street. Like some of you (hopefully), I equate the sea with life; with it's trials and tribulations and it's constant changing shape and form and the challenges of navigating it without injury (physical and mental).

Some how, Sleep Lady have managed to tap into that part of me and create a musical landscape which perfectly matches my sea/life metaphor. It's almost like they went into my brain and used that as a blueprint.

Anyway. Enough of this. Have a listen to the track and then read my piece (or vice versa if you like) and let me know in the comments box what YOU think. What journey this magnificent piece of art took you on.

00:00 - 00:52
Gentle washes of strings and keyboards slide across some drum machine sounding beats. Like a heart beat in the distance.

00:53 - 01:32
A guitar figure arrives pickings melancholic notes from the ether. There is a wistful nature to the sounds. A thoughtfulness. Almost like a question...

01:33 -  02:48
Feedback from the right heralds the entrance of the drums. There is an ominous feel to this. Like storm clouds gathering on the skyline. Layers build and swirl. Rising until....

02:48 - 03:05
Everything falls away leaving some percussive hits when....

03:06 - 04:19
Crashing waves of heaviness heave into view. The black clouds have arrived.....a guitar picks out a melody that is reminiscent of rain so light yet insistent.

04:29 - 07:34
Suddenly everything is still. A Twin Peaks-esque passage shimmers into existence. The guitar melody is so mournful, yearning for release. More guitars appear picking out higher notes and harmonies guiding us towards a resolution it would seem....

07:35 - 09:59
But without warning the melody and sound becomes heavy. There is no resolution here. Like lightning overhead it jars you awake and stuns you into silence.

A keyboard repeats an earlier guitar melody adding an ethereal atmosphere. It's unnerving. Like the sound of fairground music in the distance, woozy and vaguely threatening. Again, there is a sense of building up to something.....some sort of enlightenment....some sort of revelation. Chords swing back and forth, the storm rages dragging us towards.....

10:00 - 11:39
Distortion. Fuzz. Confusion. Noise. Sporadic drums batter the senses. Keyboards and guitars swirl in waves. Back and forth we're pushed...the storm is gathering pace and strength, drawing us in, embracing us in its dark arms.

More noise, more insistent the snare building and building until....

11:40 - 14:29
We're pummelled with heaviness. Like waves breaking on rocks and crashing into cliff faces. The pace is funereal. Guitars squeal and shift. Yet..... there is still melody, there is still hopefulness that we will emerge from this.

14:30 - 18:20
And we do... it the sweetest of releases. The storm has broken. From the heaviest, darkest depths we have emerged and slipped into an almost dreamlike state. Drums are processed and delicate. Stability has returned to us. Guitars begin to lead the way towards the light, offering hope and warmth.

It is the shaft of sunlight breaking the black clouds. A light that warms, that reassures..... that gives hope and new life.

As the melody becomes a bit sour, almost discordant, we're reminded that the storm has passd but it is still only just behind us.... but then.... serenity returns.

And then..... we drift away into the ether.

What’s left is……..

"I travel without a ticket / I want to get caught / I want to be exposed / I want to be punished for what I've done", sings Ola Innset to open 'Bruises’, the first track on Making Mark's A Thousand Half-Truths. Musically, it's a jaunty sunshiney ballad at the opposite end of the happy-ometer to its dark lyrics. "You showed me your bruises / but I never showed you mine", makes for quite a start. Imagine Bonnie 'Prince' Billy channeling The Beach Boys. The clean tremolo of the guitar just bounds along with the melody, making for a singalong song that you shouldn't really be singing along to.

Making Marks are another Scandinavian band who seem to have taken the indie-pop format and make it shimmer with a little darkness, though as the album progresses it misfires a little, the mood inconsistent - even if the melodies are on the money throughout. Like Soundtrack of our Lives, A Camp or The Concretes, this collection of songs is hugely melodic. There are also echoes of Magic Numbers and Slow Club (female vocalist Nina Bø bears a striking vocal resemblance to Rebecca Taylor).

Formed in Oslo in 2012, Making Marks stand out for the vocal interplay between guitarist Innset and Bø, who also plays keyboards. The pair share duties on each track, and the lush production wisely centres around letting them flourish - the harmonies on 'Barcodes' for example shine beautifully. There's real depth to the voices, mixed higher in the production than the rhythm and guitars.

It also has more than one gear and when the pace picks up on tracks like 'Forgive and Forget' and 'Lemon Sheets', it almost feels as if the album has moved in the wrong direction, that the more mournful melancholy pace was working too well to be replaced, but then the choruses kick in and swell into warm blankets of sound. ‘Falling In Love Again’ is a perfect example of this, with that upbeat sound and conflicting lyrics: “You say I shouldn't be cruel to animals and that made me feel ashamed / but that’s nothing new / I’m getting used to that too / but I forget how my lips could tremble”.

If there's a weakness it's a lack of consistency. On 'Like Spinning', a heart-wringing tale of the difficulties of growing up plays out with vocals sharp across both channels. A chorus of "We can work it out / we can be healthy / and happy / and free", is positive, but it feels saccharine compared with the themes that preceded it. The message is too simple, too cliched. That’s not to detract from the standard of musicianship though. On the same track, Bø’s clinking piano creates an atmosphere that creates shivers, but like elsewhere it’s Innset’s guitar that propels the sound - sharp and crisp throughout.

It's also great to see the band from this part of the world opt to record in their own tongue, as Making Marks have done on 'Uten en Tred’, and it would have been nice to have had a couple more tracks in Norwegian. There are in-jokes peppered through too - phrases like ‘guided by voices’ and ‘my maudlin career’ just seem too well-placed to be accidental.

Ultimately the upbeat pop mixing with folk-tinged melodies is successful and 2014 should hopefully see the band reach a wide audience. It's the sort of album that leaves you feeling a little better about the world than you did before you pressed play.

Canadian four piece Dead Ranch were established in 2011, in Winnipeg, and this is their first full length release, Antler Royal. Recorded with Jesse Gander (Anciients, Bison B.C, 3 Inches Of Blood, Mass Grave), it’s a debut that sounds like a band that have been honing their craft for way more than the few years they’ve been together. A true statement for a tight-as-fuck, down-tuned colossus that will leave you with a huge grin on your face, and the fear of god in your eyes.

Opening track ‘Ice Desert’ starts as a beast that’s just awakening, with a single guitar slowly introducing the rest of the band into the fray. Layer upon layer builds up until the monster has now arisen, and is ready to drag you through just over half an hour (8 tracks) of pure brutality. And after the dust settles and cities have fallen – you’ll be back for more.

There’s barely even a second to think about what’s just happened to your brain before ‘Attack of the Sky Creatures’  knocks you back off your feet and continues to pummel your ears with ferocious beats and animalistic gut wrenching vocals. This is a finely produced album, no instrument taking charge – it’s an attack on the senses from all sides, and the duel guitarists fight alongside (not against) each other like their life depended on it.

What about the bass? I’m a huge fan of a dirty, low end distorted bass, and ‘Mudwalker/River Drinker’ more than quenches my thirst, as does ‘Water Park Shark’ with riffs so ugly, they’re god damn beautiful .  Tempos change in a heartbeat, and the melting pot of genres throughout is a testament to a band that have definitely spent a lot of time playing together, making sure that their debut is one to remember.

The final two songs are two different entities altogether, but the end result is still the same. ‘Larry Beastman’ is just under three minutes of being suckerpunched repeatedly and rapidly, the most punk rock track on the album for sure. And twice as long as that is ‘Le Petit Mort’, finishing off whatever sanity you may have left with a sonic steamroller dragging you slowly over a freshly tarred road.

You’d be doing yourself a huge favour by getting this album right now, one of the most amazing debuts my ears have had the pleasure to hear. Heavy as fuck, with  some of the best song titles and album artwork your eyes will ever see.

The problem of recording a second album is a complicated one mostly because there’s no formula for it.  While it’s easy for a lot of bands to try and recreate the sound of their first album, and this works a lot of the time (The Ramones did this successfully for three albums), others like to take the opportunity to go off the rails into a completely new direction. There is something to be said, however, for creating an album that takes the accomplishments of the previous and edits them for a more cohesive, streamlined sound.  This is what Hail Spirit Noir did with Oi Magoi.

With their debut album Pneuma, Hail Spirit Noir banked on the oddball premise that modern black metal shared enough of the spirit of the psychedelic 60s that the two sounds would meld together to create something new with a bold and exciting sound. This premise paid off in spades, and tracks like 'Let Your Devil Come Inside' were at once completely bonkers, undeniably exciting, and even catchy. Pneuma sounded like The Incredible String Band tripping in the woods with Marduk. Oi Magoi clearly has the same intent with a focus on refinement and tweaking rather than an overhaul of their existing sound.

The cover art alone provides a clear parallel to how the music in Oi Magoi relates to that of the album before it.  It references the art of Pneuma, the demonic smiling face as a full-body tattoo on an otherwise realistically-rendered man. The art is sophisticated especially in comparison to the art of Pneuma which has a madcap vibe to it that suggests a sort of gypsy spirit (or perhaps something scrawled onto an asylum wall). The music follows suit: tighter arrangements in place of ramshackle charm and a much greater ear for melody. Tracks like album closer, 'Oi Magoi' could be a hard sell on its own as being composed by a black metal band. Its throbbing organ coupled with everything from surf guitar to world music percussion blend into a lush fever pitch that remains grounded with a melodic through-line evoking traditional Jewish folk music. The most apt comparison might be to John Zorn’s Dreamers ensemble.

Other tracks take on a more sinister tone, specifically 'Satan is Time'. While it opens with a crystal clear acoustic guitar and harmonized vocals, not accidentally tipping a hat to Love’s Arthur Lee, it becomes a complex trip down its slinking bass line into a song that fully encapsulates Hail Spirit Noir’s vision. They allow their music to be pleasant, if only to allow for a more potent emotional spike as clouds darken and the song becomes a menacing chant, 'Satan is Time', again and again before blooming into full-on gravel-voiced madness. Similarly, centerpiece 'The Mermaid' marries this penchant for dense arrangement with the majesty of early prog bands; think King Crimson with its wobbling analogue synth. The band leaves room for several ideas and sounds to play to their logical endpoints in the tracks 11’29” run-time. As the track races toward its closing chords it reveals the ecstasy of playing what could have been an arena stomper in the early 70s.

While Oi Magoi is perhaps a more pure iteration of the direction in which this band will continue, and while aesthetically and composition-wise it improves on Pneuma, it is difficult to say that it reaches the same joyful highs as their debut. With the shearing off of some of the raw edges they once flaunted proudly, they’ve lost just a bit of what made their music so exciting in the first place. While the music is still decidedly weird, the band doesn’t seem like they themselves are weirdos. The music itself seemed to come from a sort of fun house dementia in Pneuma whereas now the music sounds like more of an intellectual study of the more bizarre juxtapositions of instrumentation and melodic ideas.  

In the end, with Oi Magoi Hail Spirit Noir has given a great gift to the world of art-house bizarro black metal, a subsection of a subsection that is too rarely given new blood. My biggest fear is that one day their capacity to edit themselves will outweigh their capacity to fly the freak flag as high as they can, marching through the often too self-serious landscape of modern metal.

I tried to review this album without mentioning Culted's geographically fascinating backstory, but the disconnect between the members (Three of whom reside in the remote Canadian prairies while vocalist Daniel Jansson lives in Gothenburg, Sweden. They have never met.) had such an impact on my interpretation of the album that I felt compelled to bring it up. Throughout the entirety of Oblique To All Paths I was unable to shake the feeling that Jansson's voice was like some terrible long-lost recorded artifact, and that the musicians had been tasked with writing an appropriately unsettling piece of music to accompany it, when in fact their recording process is quite the opposite way around.

Opener 'Brooding Hex' is a trial by fire, 20 minutes of slowly unfurling blackened doom which, as it leads you ever further down it's dark and crooked path, will utterly captivate you. Not through your own volition, you understand, more like the morbid curiosity which has people craning their necks for a better view of a particularly grisly crime scene. You'll be creeped out, uncomfortable, but you'll be damned if you can turn it off.

Both the instruments and vocals are swathed in layers of effects; the guitars can occasionally sound like the scraping of long-ossified bone on cracked concrete, the drums hit with all the impact of anti-materiel rounds fired into the hull of a rusted tanker, and the vocals sound like the last transmission of a man slowly bleeding to death in the middle of a frozen tundra. It is an unremittingly bleak collection of sounds, expertly fused to create an unpleasant but wholly immersive experience.

The track comes to a close with passages of maddening, spiralling guitar and harsh electronics that will make you feel as if your vitreous fluid has been replaced with battery acid. I would be genuinely surprised if anyone is able to listen through this whole album without needing to take a break more than a couple of times. Sombre piano jabs lead into 'Illuminati' which actually possesses something vaguely resembling traditional song structure, there's a riff and everything! It may be accompanied by more of Jansson's feral, cybernetic howls, but it's a riff nonetheless. However the following track, 'Intoxicant Immuration', contains no such concessions to structure; it's more akin to floating facedown in the slowly pooled blood of a thousand bathtub suicides.

By the time the album comes to the vaguely halfway point with 'March Of The Wolves', I feel utterly spent. Thankfully its another track with vaguely recognisable form: martial wardrums, blackened rasps and woozy, off-kilter riffs, all coming in at under 5 minutes long. Lovely.

A short intermission of desolate noise leads into 'Transmittal', which begins with sounds like the workings of some great machinery, all clanking, lurching dissonance. Among the black tremolo and funereal drums there are an endless minutiae that you'll be praying aren't just your imagination; glitches, echoes and indiscernible sampled snippets. The cumulative effect sounds simultaneously jagged and slithering, broken and ruined yet still cruelly efficient. As the track begins to shut itself down, the sequence counted down by double-kick and a sludgy riff, oscillating ever wilder, you'll dread what may come next.

Final track 'Jeremiad' begins with piston-like percussion and inhuman ranting, which is soon joined by a mournful guitar melody, and for the first time throughout the album you sense the disconnection between the two factions within the band. The relative lack of effects on the music here, contrasted with the heavily-distorted vocals serves to highlight the divide between the members, rather than mask it. However for the majority of the record, this is not as issue, and the whole disturbing thing sounds seamless.

With Oblique To All Paths, a title taken from a quote from occultist Austin Osman Spare, Culted fulfil their intention to "explore an artistic or philosophical path regardless of societal expectations". Whilst filtering elements of doom, black metal, industrial, noise and much more into their musical output, Culted sound completely unlike any other band. Follow down their dark path at your peril...

Leeds, UK based The Witch Hunt* are a talented Alt-Rock duo comprised of Louisa Osborn and Chris Mulligan. The duo have released some great material including songs 'Crawl' and 'Chairman' (check out the videos on youtube!) and their recent EP Little Book of Hate continues their musical evolution. The EP shares fives diverse songs that showcase the dynamic musical range which The Witch Hunt possess.

The EP kicks off with a brilliant track entitled 'Army Men'. It is the song the band has been showcasing, and for good reason, it is immediately gripping. The track begins with a minimalist clicking percussion and haunting, ominous atmospheric guitar. Louisa Osborn handles the lead vocal duties for the band admirably. Her voice is strong, full of emotion and capable of notes with staggering power. When Osborn goes all-in to belt out a note shivers skyrocket down my arm. The vibe of 'Army Man' is reminiscent of the Cure or Black Angels. Both band members sing, play guitar and contribute to the catchy percussive arrangements throughout the EP.

I found 'Army Men' was immediately rewarding, the other tracks on Little Book of Hate took a few listens to fully appreciate. All of the tracks wormed their way into my mind however and I've ultimately found this a very compelling EP. The next track 'One Big Bite' drives along with a simple, catchy melody as Osborn's vocals build tension. Some words she stretches, holding onto the last syllable like a sharp vocal dagger other times she sings along with the melody "oh-oh-oh-ohhhhhh....". Where ever Osborn takes the lyrics they are consistently delivered with a confident alluring fervor. This allure is exemplified on the curious track 'Wide and Laughing'. Louisa really sells the song with some magically sung sections that deliver a seductive poetic cadence. Mulligan echoes back subtly in the background with a distant whisper. The result of the vocal combinations bouncing back and forth are captivating.

So how about a dirty twangy Country/Rock vibe? Yes, The Witch Hunt pull that off as well. 'Can You Believe it?' starts off slow and methodically but by the end it's an unsettled ball of fury. The twangy guitar and chuggy stomp of drums that started the song evolve becoming agitated, harsh and angry. Osborn who was singing soft and delicately at the beginning of 'Can You Believe it?' sounds like she's enraged and believable at the end of the song belting out: "I want to break you/I want hurt you...". The song's slow transformation as it ratchets up and up is gripping.

The EP ends with the title track 'Little Book of Hate'. The soft, bouncy guitar intro is a stark contrast to the creepy, words and sinister intent of song. It is unsettling to hear a beautiful meandering melody sung to the words "I have a Little Book of Hate With your name on it". Like 'Can You Believe it?', 'Little Book of Hate' also builds to climatic ending. The track ends with soaring, triumphant guitar paired with Osborn's towering vocals. Brilliant stuff.

If you see the Little Book of Hate on a shelf be sure to grab it and leaf through the pages. Osborn and Mulligan have created an impressive collection that demonstrates the thrilling potential of the band. If the melodic, rocking guitar and eerie atmospherics don't win you over then Osborn's riveting and bewitching vocals will. A highly recommended listen, keep an eye on this band.

* Not to be confused with the hardcore U.S. band Witch Hunt. The UK band added "The".

Like so many other teenagers, I grew up on both punk and metal. BAT – Primitive Age is a blended marriage of the genres that will almost immediately take some of us back to a time when skateboarding, going to shows, and hanging out were priority activities. This 5-song EP is like taking a surf board time machine to an age where jobs and bills and money didn’t matter. Not juvenile in composition though, Primitive Age is hard-hitting and insanely tough.

The first track ‘BAT’ will have you headbanging almost without realizing that the music has already tapped the veins. It’s catchy, diverting, and chocked full of first wave black metal vocal stylings that are catchy and stout. ‘Rule of the Beast’ is without a doubt one of the standout tracks on the record. It’s sexy, quick, and would without a doubt make Lemmy one proud daddy. It’s an agreeable party anthem that fills the head with images of old classic cars racing down the freeway in a sea of heavy exhaust. You can almost see back seats full of big-breasted women with huge blonde hair laughing and pounding beer along side dudes clad in leather and studs.

‘Primitive Age’ is the kind of track you’ll find yourself tapping your fingers to hours after the record has made its first go around. Raw and powerful, it’s a beast that young kids will flip over and old schoolers will approve of. It almost makes you wish this band were around in the early 80’s at the start of it all but it’s refreshing that their pumping out this kind of heaviness today, keeping that flame alive.

BAT is a band for fans of Motörhead, Discharge, and Venom. This is a powerhouse of a band that blend together as musicians just as well as the genres of this record does. Comprised of members Ryan Waste (Municipal Waste, Volture) on bass and vocals, Volture guitarist Nick Poulous on guitars, and former D.R.I. drummer Felix Griffin on drums. Out now on Tankcrimes Records, you can purchase this rock hard release on tape or on digital format.

Information is a bit scarce on the ground about Aktor. As far as I can discover it’s a collaboration between Jussi Lehtisalo and Tomi Leppänen and Professor Black. The trio have released a 7” single (delightful!) called I Am The Psychic Wars and the two tracks on offer are a fantastic mix of prog, rock, psychedelic rock and Jean Michel Jarre. With pop sensibilities.

With a passing nod to Blue Oyster Cult (both in the name of the song and the driving guitar rhythms) ‘I Am The Psychic Wars’ begins with a drum intro and guitar lick ripped straight from ’74. So far so classic rock but then somewhere around a minute in keyboards appear adding a layer of sounds similar to those found dotted throughout Oxygène and a shimmering effect that adds an other-worldly quality to the song. Then before you can properly analyse everything that’s going on we’re off on another gallop with a solo and more driving riffage. Brilliant stuff. ‘Buried By The Sea’ incorporates the electronic vibe from the get-go. Where as side one was much more rock infused with electronica this is the reverse. Sounds cut in and out, beeps and boops appear and disappear, vocal lines are doubled with keyboard effects. That’s not to say that the guitars are lost in the mix, they’re alive and kicking but they add colour rather than focus.

This is a wonderful mash-up of styles. The vocals are a particular highlight; there is almost a whimsical quality to them. The tracks have energy and groove and whilst the title track is great it is the b-side that really caught my imagination. If an album of 10-12 songs building on this as a blueprint appeared in my hands one day, I would be a very happy man. As will you when you hear this (happy, that is. Not a man. Unless you are a man. In which case you WILL a…. I’ll stop now. Sorry.)

Short, sharp and sweet, Elizabeth kick back into action with their latest offering Insomnia. It's only a four-track EP, but it packs plenty of punch and offers a consistent galloping pace throughout. Embracing the more darker elements of hardcore, this EP furthers the trio's metallic edge and expresses a more polished sound. Personally I think there was a little more raw 'umph' to their 2012 release Where Vultures Land, but you can definitely tell there's been a fair bit of development for these guys over the last year or so.

Kind of a blink-and-you'll-miss-it of a release, but each track still maintains a full-bodied vibe, despite on average clocking in at a little under two minutes each. Starting out with an almost Converge-'Dark-Horse' twinge, 'Cemetery Feeling' launches you into a toe-tapping frenzy before shaking you violently for the last 20 seconds and dropping off into the more blackened 'Created Enemies'.

Not exactly groundbreaking, nor an unheard sound, they do a good job of keeping this sect of the hardcore/crust scene afloat. I think you may get a truer feeling for it if listened to after their first LP, where you'll see their development in sound and feeling, Recommended if you want to pad out your favourite sub genre, or if you're very new to it.

FFO: Birds In Row, Cowards, Baptists

Philadelphia’s Tungsten has a wonderfully informative Bio page on their website. Wonderful because one of the sections asks them to list their favourite albums, a selection of which follows: Pink Floyd, Iron Maiden, Miles Davis, Dream Theater, Opeth, Mars Volta, Yes, King Crimson and Meshuggah. To name a small few. So, a band influenced by such heavyweights must be able to produce something listenable, yes?

Oh yes. Yes indeed.

On their debut release The Reservoir, Tungsten have melded all those bands together to create a such a stellar collection of melodic, heavy and progressive tunes that I am alternately massively impressed and massively jealous. Jealous of the creativity and strength these songs show.

Album opener ‘Water Over Stone’ features a deceptively “prog” opening (all synths and Gilmour soloing) only to give way to a riff so bouncy, you’d be forgiven for thinking that you were listening to something from Coverdale-era Purple. And yet for the catchiness of the guitars there is a delicate stream of keyboards running though this track, an underlying melody and added sound dimension.

What’s clear throughout this album, is that the influences the band have professed shine though BUT (and this is the important bit folks) without sounding like carbon copies of their idols. ‘Night Wanders By’ has a version riff that sounds like it belongs on  a hard rock album from the 70s, but you’d be hard pushed to say which band it COULD have been released by. This is one of the many things that make this album so good. It has all the best bits of your favourite bands but filtered through 2014. Enough of the past though....

‘El Dolor’ arrives in a crash of drums and frantic guitar chords. Utterly hummable and certainly radio-friendly but just when you think the band have gone all commercial on you - NEVER FEAR - the back half of the song takes on a different musical tack completely with an ominous guitar line and some excellent placement of the Hammond sound. It ends sounding like a completely different song!

Standout tracks on the album are ‘Atmos (Masto) Storms’ and ‘The Reservoir’. The former is an exercise in musicianship without losing any emotion or musicality. Singer Titi Musick (I’m saying nothing.....) uses words for the first 2 mins of the track and then spends the next 5 mins simply using her voices for notes. It’s this wordless display of angst and emotion that helps lift this song above the others. The eccentrically proggy instrumental section towards the end of the song shows that Tungsten can get all “odd sounds and time signatures” when they want to. ‘The Reservoir’ is the longest track on the album and you can hear why the band chose to name the album after it. Beginning with a riff from guitarists Ben Grossberg and Jeff McCall that defines the word ‘heavy’ and featuring a breakdown section that sounds like Iron Maiden crossed with Genesis, this track is truly a prog epic. It ebbs and flows, it’s heavy and dark yet shot through with moments of light.

It’s hard to believe this is Tungsten’s debut album, such is the breadth and depth of the songwriting displayed here. Metal enough for you to bang your head, melodic enough for you to sing along to and twisty enough to be prog enough for the prog (“No mellotron? No prog”) snobs. Goodness knows what their second album is going to be like as this will be a hard act to follow!