I like checking out bands that are odd or different in some way. Even if the vast majority of music I end up hearing sucks Godzilla’s giant mutant reptile penis, there are times when checking out a new or different band pays dividends and I get to hear a truly exceptional album that would have been overlooked otherwise. Van Canto is one of those oddball bands that caught my attention because they triggered my “WTF?” alarm. Van Canto describes themselves as A Cappella Metal. That caught my attention because you don’t ever see the terms “A Cappella” and “Metal” together in the same sentence unless that sentence happens to be “A Cappella music isn’t Metal.” I walked to the cash register of my local record store with this CD and paid for it knowing that there was probably a 1% likelihood that it was going to be awesome and a 99% likelihood that it was going to be an abomination of epic proportions. Let me begin this review by saying that Van Canto is what you get when a Power Metal band has to sell their instruments in order to pay the rent. Rather than selling each other into prostitution, they decide that going A Cappella might be something strange enough to lure a few more people to their concerts with the added bonus of not having to lug a ton of musical instruments to each show. This is all speculation, of course. They might have decided to do this whole “Metal without using real instruments” thing on their own without the aid of drugs or alcohol (or impending rent payments that needed to be made), but that would just make them stupid instead of creative. Much like Diablo Swing Orchestra, this is one of those records that you use to show an activist college girl how open minded you are in hopes that she’ll give you a blowjob. It says something, then, that the best material here is on the bonus CD that comes with the “limited edition” version of this release. Yes, it’s that fucking bad. The nature of A Cappella music requires the vocalists to use their voices to simulate the melodies and rhythms that would normally be created by guitars and keyboards. This leads to a ton of laugh out loud moments where the song takes an unintentionally funny turn when one or more of the singers attempts to simulate a guitar riff or some form of melody. It sounds so stupid that you can’t help but laugh. Face it, when you can make the original version of “The Final Countdown” sound awesome in comparison, you fucking suck and you should probably quit music altogether. I think Joey Tempest (Europe) is laughing his ass off right now because now he can honestly say that his version of the song isn’t the worst one out there. What saved this release from being absolute trash was the aforementioned bonus CD. All of these bonus tracks are reworkings of older songs that Van Canto recorded prior to this LP. The first three songs are orchestral versions played with real symphonic instruments and without any vocals. The fourth track is a Techno remix that uses effects to alter the vocal weirdness in such a way that it doesn’t sound stupid, which is quite a feat in and of itself. The final two are an acoustic track with only the lead vocals and acoustic guitars, and a choir rendition of one of their songs. The A Cappella gimmick might get a few curious people (such as myself) to check out one of this band’s releases, but after listening to this, I don’t think I’ll ever buy or listen to another one. One track of this nonsense is enough to give you all you’ll ever need to hear from Van Canto. If you’re able to download the bonus CD material without purchasing the rest of this LP (either through iTunes or Amazon), I’d do that instead of buying the whole thing. The rating below reflects only the LP tracks. The bonus CD is worth an 8 on its own merits, mostly because it’s as far away from this A Cappella bullshit as you can get - most of which probably doesn’t even involve the members of this band. I wouldn’t bother with the rest of it. If you want to hear good A Cappella music, buy a Pentatonix LP. Don’t waste your money on shit like Dawn of the Brave because you’ll probably regret it (unless that activist college chick actually does give you a blowjob, then mission accomplished).

I must confess to not keeping up with Prostitute Disfigurement at all since 2001’s Embalmed Madness. I know… shame on me. I don’t really have an excuse or a logical explanantion as to why its been a baker’s dozen worth of Braves’ calendars since I last checked in on these humorously-named Dutch sickos. I loved that aforementioned debut and the demo that preceded it. What’s not to love about timeless family favorites like “Choking on Defecation,” “Chainsaw Abortion,” “Cadaver Blowjob,” and “On Her Guts I Cum”? I suppose the general gayness of life and an influx of 10,008 new extreme Metal releases per year inadvertently separated me from PD’s progress. I did manage to cum on a few guts during that span, but unfortunately those women were alive. Enough about the past. What do the cadaverous quintet bring to the embalming table circa now? Very little I’m afraid. Not sure who outgrew whom, but I’m not feeling From Crotch to Crown much at all. The demented lyrical content and delightfully disgusting cover art thankfully remain in tow, but musically the band has taken a far more conventional approach to brutal Death Metal. This sounds like the filler from Cannibal Corpse’s Gore Obsessed and Deicide’s Earache era fucked and had a crack baby. So… basically it’s a Severe Torture record now that I think about it. There’s a few serviceable pit riffs and guitar solos hidden between never ending walls of non-stop machinegun blast, but nothing you’ll remember once the album’s over. Gone are the beyond bestial low-end gurgles. Niels Adams (Centurian) still has a solid set of pipes, but his vocal patterns are equally elusive to the hippocampus, forgotten mere seconds after they’re growled. No more drum machine set to “annihilate.” Michiel van der Plicht (ex-God Dethroned) might as well be a machine. The only problem being that machine is an oscillating desk fan with a baseball card wedged in it. Guttural, guttural, where for art thou guttural?? Rotting away is still better than being gay, but From Crotch to Crown is all bore, no gore.

Acheron has a long and storied past. Formed by ex-Nocturnus member Vincent Crowley back in 1988, Acheron has been part of the Death Metal scene since its very earliest days. While the band never achieved the much-deserved fame or recognition that bands like Morbid Angel, Deicide, or even Vital Remains got, Acheron has persisted. Though they’ve come close, they’ve yet to have that one “breakthrough” album that pushes them to the next level. Any number of reasons can be given as to why they’ve been overlooked, but they’ve consistently put out very solid recordings over the years. Musically, I’m having difficulty calling what they do pure “Death Metal” these days - which is not a complaint, by the way. There are parts of Kult des Hasses that show more kinship with old Mercyful Fate or Angel Witch than bands like Morbid Angel. Even the legitimately brutal parts on this LP sound more like Thrash than Death Metal. That being said, Kult des Hasses is probably the most technically proficient and musically distinct album that Acheron has ever produced. The guitar playing, in particular, is exceptional. Art Taylor’s soloing really drives the music, giving the songs an explosive quality sometimes, or a Blues-influenced atmosphere on other occasions. Kyle Severn’s drumming is as tight as always, and Vincent Crowley’s vocals are as caustic and brutal as you’re going to get and still be completely understandable. While this might not be the “breakout” LP that they need to separate themselves from the second tier and move up to the top levels of the scene, it’s definitely well worth checking out.

To say that I’ve been eagerly awaiting the release of The Satanist would probably be the understatement of the year. I was practically camping out in front of the record store waiting for this to come out. I’ve followed Behemoth since their The Return of the Northern Moon demo tape (professionally released by Pagan Records in 1993), and while their music has changed considerably since those days, I’ve always enjoyed listening to them. When Nergal came down with leukemia, I was afraid that I would lose another one of my Metal idols. It appears that our Lord and Master, Satan, had other plans for Nergal, though. The Satanist is one of those records that you have to listen to multiple times before you get a firm grasp on what Behemoth is doing. The early part of this album suffers from some production issues, namely the guitars getting buried underneath either the drums or the atmospherics (keyboards, choir or samples), sometimes both. There are parts of “Blow Your Trumpets Gabriel” and “Furor Divinus” where the guitars can’t really be heard beyond the occasional bit that breaks through during a segment when the drums or orchestration slow down or stop. Things get better around the middle of the LP, with the second half of The Satanist being significantly better sounding than the first. I think the main reason for this is that the slower songs were concentrated more in this half of the record, and the faster ones came early on. What holds all of this together is Nergal’s corrosive singing. He has a fairly distinctive voice that is raw and harsh, but still coherent and understandable, which is a rare thing in a genre filled with vocalists that gurgle like some sort of rabid beast or scream like a banshee. The music here is a veritable maelstrom of brutal and evil sounding guitars, keyboards, drums and whatever else Nergal and his compatriots can throw at you. In a way, Behemoth has become what I always hoped that Morbid Angel would be. While Trey Azagthoth and company have turned into something of a mockery of their former selves, Behemoth stepped in and stole the throne right out from under them. Tracks like “The Satanist” and “O Father O Satan O Sun!” easily make this a worthwhile purchase, and while this isn’t an absolutely ungodly masterpiece, there’s more than enough awesomeness to make up for whatever unevenness can be found.

To say that Morbid Angel’s 2011 comeback LP was perceived by the Death Metal multiverse as a dismal flop is putting things rather lightly. I once publicly admitted to liking four songs from Illud, and came home that night to a burning cross in my lawn and a banner that read, “FAGGOT GO HOME.” Four good songs or not, I think we can all agree that the album overall was more awkward than a loud fart at a funeral, and that in retrospect, Steve Tucker-fronted Morbid Angel sounded better by comparison. Sure, there wasn’t an Altars of Madness or a Covenant, but it most certainly can be argued as the most brutal era of their legendary legacy (pending one’s own definition of “brutal,” of course). After hearing whatever that Nader Sadek rubbish was —I’d like to hear the argument for four good songs there— I was beginning to wonder if the Heretic album would be my last good memory of all the parties involved. Needless to say, I was strongly rooting for Warfather’s debut to beat the ugly out of me. I was hoping Tucker —faced with the daunting challenge of having to reinvent and reinvigorate his career at age 42— would make Father Time his bitch and conquer 2014. After all, he’s a pretty confident person, bro.
< dead silence >
While a competent effort, Orchestrating the Apocalypse does not have what it takes to fulfill those wishes. It’s a peculiar case of highly impressive individual performances not equating to much of a whole. On the positive side, the riffs are great. Tucker —switching from bass to guitar for this project— not only summons the back catalogs of Deicide and Morbid Angel to classic effect, but also succeeds at the difficult task of infusing emotion into Deathly riffcraft. Some of these melodies have melodies that have melodies! Elsewhere, it’s as if he modeled many of the guitar arrangements after Classical music. The drumming —courtesy of the mighty “Deimos” (former sticksman for Destroyer 666, Inhume, Prostitute Disfigurement, and Sinister to name a few)— is also spectacular. However, the drum sound is fucking clown dick. The only thing I like about the sound of the kick drums is that it reminds me of when I used to write reviews on an actual typewriter. Which brings us to the record’s biggest flaw: horseshit production. Horrible beyond belief! It’s as if the instruments were recorded on different planets and then mixed using some kind of pre-ProTools software prototype. (And don’t give me that “it’s supposed to sound Old School” bullshit. Old School sounded way better than this. Shit, Hellhammer’s Death Fiend demo sounds better than this.) It’s paper thin, completely void of any trace of audible bass guitar, and highlights a definite need for studio magic when it comes to Tucker’s vocals. Too often he reaches too far for range that isn’t there, and you can file that under momentruiner. (Fuck the purists. AutoTune that shit! A guitar doesn’t naturally sound distorted, does it? No one gets butthurt about that.) In closing, there’s a lot of good things to take away from Orchestrating the Apocalypse, but they don’t come close to outweighing all that’s left to be desired. With even the most basic of modern productions, you could probably flip the six on this rating.

As with most record labels, Relapse has had its share of duds over the years, but in theory, Wolvserpent shouldn’t be one of them. The band plays dark and punishingly heavy music, which is normally something that I love. Where Perigaea Antahkarana fails is in the songwriting. At 82 minutes for four songs and an intro track, this LP is a prime example of a band creating overly long compositions and beating simple structures into the floor to the point of being mind-numbingly boring. You could have shortened each of these tracks by two-thirds and they probably would have still been too long. This has the worst aspects of Drone and Dark Ambient displayed in all their vulgar glory. After repeated tries, I somehow managed to listen to the entire album in one sitting, and truth be told, it wasn’t an experience that I want to repeat. I swear that the 82 minute duration is misleading. It looks like a long time already, but when you’re actually suffering through it, you’d swear that this fucking thing lasts four hours. It’s not an easy listen by a long shot. Unless you like nearly-endless, droning music that’s less exciting than watching paint dry, I’d avoid Wolvserpent. This has been upped a couple points just because the guitar tone is fucking evil sounding. I love the tone, but that doesn’t save this record from being a dog.

When you know that Yosuke Konishi of Nuclear War Now! Productions is a huge fan of Blasphemy and bands in that style, it’s no surprise that he would release an album by Italy’s Demonomancy. While they aren’t a clone of Blasphemy or a direct descendant of the band like Revenge or Conquerer, Demonomancy does share a lot of stylistic similarities with the Ross Bay legends. The main difference between the two is their chosen speed range. Demonomancy tends to dwell in the slower side of Black/Death Metal, occasionally kicking up the tempo to show that they can grind alongside the best of them. This particular style makes them sound a bit like the combination of Blasphemy and Corpse Molestation in that they have the song structures and playing style of Blasphemy, but that slower pace, and murky, bass-heavy guitar sound that Corpse Molestation had on Descension of a Darker Deity. The speed range that Demonomancy tends to focus on gives them more heaviness, and doesn’t diminish their attack in the least. While most of the bands that were spawned by Blasphemy’s unholy influence tend to blast and grind their way through albums, the varied velocities that Demonomancy uses on this LP gives the music some much needed diversity, which their peers often lack. It’s not the standard Black/Grind that most fans of Blasphemy might be looking for, but it’s still a potent brew of bludgeoning and caustic Black/Death Metal.

Let me begin this review by saying that this release is for die-hard devotees of Incantation and Archgoat only. If you’re merely a casual fan or someone who is curious about the bands on this split, I recommend checking out their other work instead. This material was, up until now, very rare, mostly because it’s so old. Back in the ’90s, rehearsal and live recordings were uncommon to see officially released. The overwhelming majority of live recordings were bootlegs and had to be obtained by knowing someone who recorded the show or knew the person who did. Most of the live and rehearsal recordings from that era were poorly recorded and usually even the best of them still sounded like shit. Demo tapes had poor sound quality because bands didn’t have the ability to do a high quality recording on a shoestring budget. Today’s bands have it much easier because they can create a high quality recording that would have cost thousands of dollars in the 1990s on a budget considerably smaller. All that said, the sound quality on this split is horrible. The recordings were done using the technology of the time and on an almost nonexistent budget. The Incantation half of this is composed of two rehearsal tracks (a cover of Hellhammer’s “The Third of the Storms,” and “Profanation”) and three live songs (the Hellhammer cover, “Profanation,” and “Unholy Massacre,” recorded at the Cheers Club in Nyack, New York, from Incantation’s first live performance). Of the five, the live songs sound marginally better, but that isn’t saying much. The Archgoat half of this is a repress of the Jesus Spawn demo tape. It’s much more listenable, but still suffers from poor sound quality (it was probably a 4-track recording on an analog tape and then reproduced onto cheap cassettes). If you’re a die-hard fan of either of these bands, this release might be worth it to you as a document of how they sounded back in the very beginning of their careers. The recordings are rare, and though the sound quality is raw and unrefined, this is historically relevant, showing two bands in their formative stages, no more, no less.

If you’ve been around the Bay Area Metal scene for any length of time, you will know who Matt Harvey is. You will also know one or more musicians who have been in Exhumed at some point. The one constant in the band is Matt, and at this point he’s the only remaining original member. The rest of the group consists of a revolving door of musicians, at various times including Impaled bassist Ross Sewage and Murder Construct guitarist/vocalist Leon Del Muerte. Exhumed is something of a Death Metal institution here. I must’ve seen a dozen incarnations of this band over the years, dating back to the early ’90s. One of the earliest Death Metal releases I purchased, in fact, was a copy of the Excreting Innards 7-inch EP (1992). Their sound has evolved considerably over the years, going from their early days of worshipping at the altar of Carcass and playing more of a Gore/Grind style to solidly Death Metal, incorporating both strong melodic guitar-work and neck-snapping ferocity. Necrocracy, therefore, sounds like a very mature work. It’s musically cohesive and showcases a lot of technical flair that doesn’t become overcomplicated or degenerate into wankery. The band knows how to kick ass and they do just that. If there’s a flaw on this album, it’s that the production may have cleaned things up enough so that every note is clearly audible but the power and brutality that the band displays live is dialed back. I thought that the guitars, in particular, needed to be louder and more powerful. That being said, the band’s best medium is live in concert. If you get a chance to see them perform, they will snap your fucking neck and kick your ass like you owe them money. While Necrocracy does a fair job of brutalizing the listener, it’s still but a shadow of what they’re like on stage.