Oh man, new Morbid Angel! It’s been eight long years since the band’s previous album, Heretic, and sixteen since Domination, the last one with now-returned bassist/singer David Vincent. While he was gone, Vincent was in his wife’s horrible circus sideshow band, Genitorturers, but the less said of that, the better. Illud Divinum Insanus opens with a dull, plodding two-and-a-half minute intro, which gives way to… wait, am I reading that right? The song is called “Too Extreme!”?!? Let me check the rest of the song titles… Son of a bitch! Are you fucking kidding me, Morbid Angel? What the fuck?!? This album mostly isn’t even Metal at all, but rather the kind of lame-ass Industrial that Gothic Lolitas might dance to if they were sufficiently high and bored. Okay, occasionally the drumming is fast, but I don’t even know if that’s a person (Tim Yeung) or a machine. And there are some moments in “Existo Vulgore,” “Blades for Baal,” and “Nevermore” that at least hint at what this band used to be, but they’re more of a tease than anything substantial. Even during the best (or least-worst) moments of this hour-long exercise in frustration and irritation, Vincent’s barely-growly vocals are vapid and spiritless, and in the most horrible moments, such as the essentially Butt Rock “I Am Morbid” and “Radikult,” laughable. I can only imagine that MA main-man Trey Azagthoth desperately needed money for new video games and/or patchouli-scented guitar picks, but it didn’t occur to him to start giving music lessons to the Tampa Metalcore kids, so he thought, Maybe I could make the shittiest record ever conceived, and it will sell anyway, thanks to the name Morbid Angel alone. If you don’t believe me about how terrible this album is, I don’t blame you: I don’t want to believe it either, and it’s torturing my ears even as I type. So, if you have to hear this for yourself, I understand. But don’t pay for it. Illud Divinum Insanus may go down as the biggest disappointment in Metal history.

Decent Into Obscure Nihilism is a very fitting title for this debut from Turkey’s Womb of Decay, aka: Batu Cetin (longtime vocalist for Goregrinders Cenotaph) who is simply credited with “everything.” What does “everything” entail? All of the instruments and vocals on this extremely morbid Doom slab. What kind of Doom? Good question, imaginary voice in my head, I’m glad you asked. It’s slow, but not quite slow enough to be called Funeral Doom, and it’s certainly not any kind of horrible Hippie/College Doom, nor is it of the English romantic variety. It’s very unique with an odd pace and unusual patterns. I believe this to be a drum machine, but it’s hard to tell. If it isn’t, it could definitely pass for one, and it’s programming would have to be described as quirky, but it works. The riffs are very good, sometimes also oddly delivered, but everything flows well within the songs. Transitions are often sudden, fading in and out, and blanketed by some of the most eerie synths ever recorded. Synths that bring to mind silent movie footage of Dracula rising or thunder and lightning atop a haunted mansion you wouldn’t dare go near. Meanwhile, Batu’s Death snarl fits the horror-inspired feel of the album perfectly. The closest reference I could make is perhaps an even more obscure outfit, the psychotically suicidal Wraith of the Ropes. Similar approaches, similar vibes, but total originality for both acts. If you’re looking for something completely different from all the other Doom out there, this album was made specifically for you. But be warned, this one could have you not wanting to sleep alone and afraid to turn out the lights.

Florida’s Catalepsy have only been putting out records for about four years now, but by the sound of this, their second full-length album, you’d think they were hardened veterans a decade plus into their careers. Bleed has a super-polished, major label-level production that accentuates the extreme heaviness of the band’s very mechanical-sounding Deathcore perfectly. Imagine The Acacia Strain using Fear Factory’s gear and producer! The band reminds me of a more futuristic, Cover Your Tracks-era Bury Your Dead at times, especially on standout cut “Goliath”, where vocalist Rick Norman is a dead ringer for BYD ex-vocalist Mat Bruso, even subtly borrowing from him lyrically for a moment. Speaking of lyrics, the ones on display here are vehemently anti-religion. Something I always treasure, but even more so when the genre is often infiltrated by Christian scum. You won’t find wheel reinvention here, but honestly what kind of douche bag goes around looking for that anyway? You will find high quality brutality played with professional precision, venom spit hard, and crushing breakdowns. Now that sounds like a good night to me.

Absolutely fucking awful Irish Sludge. No talent, no heart, no riffs. Just pure slop on top of pure shit. Noise for worthless, stupid, trendfucking losers. To like this album means you were raised wrong. All of the members of this band liked Metalcore last year. Complete void of musical, lyrical, and vocal talent. Pure fecal matter. I downloaded this album for free and I still want my money back. Highlights include: guitar feedback and hitting the stop button. No listening enjoyment whatsoever. Pure excrement. I made a more sophisticated, more entertaining listening experience with one drumstick and a pillow at age 9. They wanted to play Metalcore, but palm muting an open E-string took too much focus. This will move 46 units, making it the best selling album on Southern Lord in 2011. All of the members of this band play in 27 other bands that sound just like this, and all of their bands will break up in six months, making it the longest lasting commitment they’ve ever endured. I could do this for hours, but you probably get it by now. No talent. Pure shit. Noise. Slop. The only bright spot? I sense this trend will die soon.

I’ll admit, besides hearing the occasional song, I haven’t really gotten into this U.K. band despite their existence for over a decade and a lot of acclaim. Without bias I started listening to Passion, but didn’t finish it during the first spin. They certainly play fast, chaotic Black Metal, but the clean vocals mixed in with the Grindcore styled screams wasn’t cutting it for me. However, like a diligent writer, I wanted to answer the haunting question: “Why is this band so well regarded?” After delving into as much of their discography as I could find, my opinion was formed… The Codex Necro! Anaal Nathrakh’s first album is damn impressive and not a mix of vocal styles. Since then I’ve finished listening to Passion completely a few times and am not impressed with two exceptions: “Tod Huetet Uebel” (vocals totally done in the style of Rainer Landfermann, from Bethlehem’s legendary Dictius Te Necare), and “Ashes Screaming Silence,” which is the heaviest, slowest and most memorable song on the album (minus the clean vocals of course).

I once worshipped this Italian Black/Doom outfit with the same fervor that they worshipped Brave Murder Day-era Katatonia. Their full-length debut, 2002’s Songs to Leave, is an essential classic, completely flawless in its melancholic misery. Not much the band have done since then has hurt quite as much, save for the suicidal anthem “Alone” from Love’s Burial Ground (2004), which I still listen to religiously to this day. After the Cock Rock travesty that was 2007’s Negative Megalomania, I had pretty much given up on the band. I just figured they’d either break up after realizing how gay the album they had made was, or that performing the songs live would give them AIDS. But here they are back again four years later, new album, new label. What to expect? Riffs from the album opener “Reject Existence” expose that they still owe quite a bit to Katatonia, and believe me I’m not complaining as this is easily the best song. Other highlights include a surprisingly decent cover of The Stooges’ “I Wanna Be Your Dog” and the 2-part epic title track. If I could offer one piece of advice to vocalist Herr Morbid: you can’t sing. Your clean vocals are terrible and they ruin songs. Stick to the Black Metal voice, it’s fucking awesome. Half the battle is finding out what you can’t do and then not doing it. So, while not a complete return to form, Under Saturn Retrograde is still a massive upgrade from the pure shit that was Negative Megalomania. Maybe the next one will be even better?

I admit it, I wrote this band off before I ever even heard them. Considering their label, tour partners, positive reviews from questionable sources, and the fact they named themselves after one of the most technically insane albums in Death Metal history, I guess I just assumed they’d be an unmemorable, mathematical endurance test at 4,000,000 bpm. Well, I was wrong and it probably won’t be the last time. The fact is Obscura’s sound owes more to Emperor, Opeth, and Between the Buried and Me than it does to Necrophagist, Brain Drill, or Origin. The Germans use a very expansive, multi-layered approach that consists of a foundation of Progressive Death Metal but incorporates many different atmospheric factors. Acoustic guitar flourishes, vocals that range from guttural to clean to all-out Blackened, a myriad of different paces, and a brilliant mastery of melody is not what I was expecting, but was pleasantly surprised to find. Sure they are wizards on their instruments - this is Pestilence’s Jeroen Paul Thesseling on a fretless bass we’re talking about, plus ex-Necrophagist drummer Hannes Grossman pounding the skins - but it never gets in the way of the actual song. Opening epic “Septuagint” is fairly representative of everything the band can do and therefore the perfect song to put first. “Ocean Gateways” and “Euclidean Elements” are in my opinion the album’s most brutal cuts, which transition nicely to “Prismal Dawn” and “Celestial Spheres,” the band’s somewhat lighter, more mellow side. Meanwhile, mostly instrumental cut “A Transcendental Serenade” features a guitar solo so jaw-dropping I actually had to rewind it, and I usually give less than a shit about solos. I’m sorry I misjudged them. Pure talent. No shit.

Cali’s symphonic bruisers are back with another full-length of breakdown-fueled war hymns. Yes, breakdowns, bitch. I love that bands still have the courage to go there even though the RPG gamers and D&D lifers who comprise the Metal press have declared it officially uncool. Winds of Plague, steadily taking pages out of Bleeding Through’s old playbook, can still do it convincingly and the Dimmu Borgiresque keyboards, while not as prominent as on 2009’s The Great Stone War, serve to add another layer to the attack. A lot of people like to give frontman Johnny Plague shit about his ghetto banter. Not to his face, I might add. I’ve recently seen this band live and the vocalist would assuredly give your favorite wrestler or UFC fighter a decent scrap. When he says “I am built for war” and that “evil fucking fears me,” I believe him. If my body was 99.9% muscle, I might run off at the mouth on the mic too. To be honest, it does detract a little from the vibe of the album. Spoken segue, “The Warrior Code,” just doesn’t need to be here. The lyrics of “California” are hard to stomach as well, and I even like a little Rap/Hip-Hop from time to time. It just seems to take the album out of its element. “Winds of Plague, muthafucka, 2011, back in this bitch, runnin’ shit” etc, just aren’t necessary when the music is tight enough to rep itself. In the live setting it’s a different story, but in the studio it can be a moment-ruiner. Still, few bands can help you channel your inner bad-ass better than this without sounding forced or completely fake. Or maybe in my case, all wops just like WOP. Hardest beatings: “One for the Butcher,” and “Drop the Match.”

Advertised by HPGD Productions as “old school Death Metal” from Norway “heavily inspired by Autopsy, Immolation, Napalm Death, Sepultura and classic horror films.” Sounds cool, right? Covers of “Social Sterility” and “Warriors of Death” by the last two aforementioned banks, respectively. “Awesome!” you say? Then ten tracks into this old school affair with mediocrity is a cover of the Beach Boys’ “Surfin’ USA.” Now you’re saying, “What the fuck?” (Especially if you’re like me and bought this album based on the ad.) While there may be some obscure bands, the only other two I’m aware of who’ve covered it are Blind Guardian and M.O.D.. Billy Milano didn’t alter the lyrics (big mistake) and neither does Those Left Behind. This pathetic song has no place on a “Metal” album of any genre, especially Death Metal, because there’s nothing dark to attribute to it. Instead buy Druid Lord’s Hymns for the Wicked from the same label.