I went into this thinking it was a brand new studio album and was mightily confused by many things. Why are there three different vocalists? Why is the production value so drastically poorer than the last two records? Haven’t I heard some of these tunes before? Where do babies come from? Well, not really the last one, but I clearly began to discover that something was awry here. Sure enough, this is, in the band’s own words, “…based on unreleased demo recordings… recorded between 1996-2004 and remastered in 2010…” So that answers a few of my questions. I still have more but we’ll get to that later. As for the material, it’s best dissected into three parts. The first four cuts are the Funeral I know and love. Somber, solemn, despondent Doom with the graceful clean voice of Frode Forsmo guiding the misery. For those unaware, this is the band from which the term Funeral Doom was coined. Their early ’90s material fit the description perfectly, and although they don’t really play at that slow motion pace anymore, it still hurts plenty, probably even more so. If you don’t own 2006’s From These Wounds you really don’t deserve life. This was Forsmo’s debut with the group and it remains literally their finest hour. 2008’s As the Light Does the Shadow was also a suitable follow up. (“Hunger,” the first song on this comp is a demo version from that album.) Now I’ve been told that Frode is no longer in the band. That puzzles me. Unless Jonas Renkse is taking his place they won’t do any better. Perhaps he killed himself? This Norwegian band does have a long history with fatal tragedy. I suppose considering their music that makes them the ultimate non-poseurs? Anyway, the next four cuts are in the same musical vein but with a different singer that I don’t much care for. Oystein Rustad, session backing vocalist from 2002’s Fields of Pestilent Grief, can’t hold a candle to Forsmo, so these songs pale in comparison. The last song features vocals from Sara Eick, one of the band’s many different female singers from their early days, who first debuted on the band’s 1997 demo. Her voice is quite angelic, but even she can’t match Frode’s sorrowful tone. So, there you have it. A collection of remastered demos that is about 45% essential. Not entirely what I was hoping for, but a nice addition for the completist. I wonder who the new vocalist will be, and will he be able to fill Forsmo’s shoes? Why did Frode leave the band? Will he continue with his original band, Minas Tirith? His he even still alive? Will I ever meet a girl that isn’t a retarded whore? Stay tuned.

Not much this band has done since their debut, the crushing Doom EP, has been worth a rat’s piss. Their highly anticipated 2007 Metal Blade full-length debut, Genesis, was a dismal failure. I think even the majority of the band’s prepubescent fan base would agree with that statement. However, the follow up, 2009’s Ruination, showed a bit of improvement. Some of those songs were not just all about speed and technicality, seeing a return to heaviness and groove. Would this EP -that perhaps only coincidentally rhymes with their first EP- finally be their much needed return to form? No, not at all. In fact, it’s by far the worst thing they’ve ever done. Just a coincidence indeed, as this material is starting to make Genesis look better all the time, not to mention the progress shown on Ruination thrown out the window. This doesn’t even sound like Job for a Cowboy. It sounds like some kind of cheap Black Dahlia Murder clone. I had to check to see if this was still Jonny Davy singing because it sounds like a newborn baby just learning how to scream. These songs are essentially super-tech melodic Thrash with a few Death Metal chops thrown in. I’ve listened to this about half a dozen times and the only thing that stands out are the annoying paper-thin-scream vocals and a complete lack of anything even remotely memorable or relevant to the band’s past efforts. Maybe this EP is a subtle fuck you to the fans? It’s possible, as I briefly met Davy at a show in Michigan and he was a total dick. I can understand somewhat, given that this was at the height of their Myspace popularity, and it’s tough when the majority of your groupies haven’t had their first period yet.

It was once said by the wise, great prophet Raymond H. Miller II, that any band is capable of writing at least one good song. At the time of this knowledgeable quote, I don’t believe The Dillinger Escape Plan had yet come to exist, so I won’t hold that against him. Night of Suicide’s third record is evidence of this truth. I’m referring, of course, to leadoff cut, “My Thoughts.” Everything gels perfectly for this Dutch Doom outfit throughout this epic track. A blend of My Dying Bride worship with a touch of that funereal negativity bands like Evoken so brilliantly execute. It’s near 12 minutes in length, but you don’t even realize it as you are being sucked in by the repetitive despondent melodies. The rest of the album, by comparison, is a joke. The remaining three tracks come nowhere near “My Thoughts” territory. Boring, sloppy, and thrown together carelessly. Not the way Doom should be handled. I honestly have never heard so many guitar fuckups actually make it to the finished product. And this is their third album? Overdubs, bitches! Punch that shit in! I tried to find something positive to say about these last three cuts, but it’s almost like a completely different band wrote and performed the first song. I guess if anything Night of Suicide does show future promise, but as of right now they are only getting it right 25% of the time.

I met Merle Allin at one of those Expo of the Extreme festivals many moons ago. He seemed very cool. A little burnt out, but perhaps the most down-to-Earth person I met that day. He knows more about sports than you would think. So, I don’t want to come off as anti-Merle during this review at all. Dude hates internet fanzines enough already. But, I don’t think that I’m going out on too far of a limb when I say that the Murder Junkies minus the late, great GG Allin, is pretty much the equivalent to an O’Douls. It still has that same taste (whoever the singer is -I think Merle only plays bass- he’s doing a great job mimicking GG’s vocal style from the Brutality and Bloodshed for All album) but something’s definitely missing. They’ve done the best they can. Album opener, “Once a Whore,” is an instant classic. Great lyrics and catchy-as-fuck Punk hooks. “Stab You 50 Times” is the exact reason I carry a pocket knife. A lot of the songs on Road Killer are funny, whether that be intentional or not I don’t truly know, but I’m not often seeking a good laugh when Punk, or anything else for that matter, fits the mood. So, I’m just not sure when I would reach for this. When I need my Murder Junkie fix, I pretty much own everything Jesus Christ Kevin Michael Allin did. How do you replace the only true Rock ‘n’ Roller left in the world once he’s left the world?

Not since Internal Bleeding’s early days have I heard so many trippy beats and slamming pit riffs! Masshole Death quartet Dysentery are seriously fucking brutal. The foundation is pure Death Metal in that classic East Coast vein (Suffocation, Internal Bleeding, Pyrexia, etc.), but there is also a definite Deathcore vibe woven into the aesthetic. Pit riff! Not to the point that anyone should actually refer to them as Deathcore, but it is there and should be acknowledged. So if you’re anti-mosh when it comes to your Death preference, don’t even bother is the key point here. Pit riff! Not counting the intro and outro, Dysentery blaze through 12 tracks of raucously precise carnage in what seems like no time at all. The songs are so indistinguishable from one another that the album feels like one half-hour long song. So, not the most memorable listen, but the album has a very high quality vibe to it. That vibe being bang your fucking head and get in the pit. Pit riff! These guys crush, chop, hammer, slash, blast, pinch, and liquefy the listener, with a guitar tone heavier than a gaggle of dicks. It should also be noted that Will Caruso’s demonic, cement mixer voicebox is one of Internal Devastations’ s most impressive highlights. No standout tracks, but definitely a standout album. Pit riff!

Do you remember the feeling you had when you first heard As the Flower Withers, Lost Paradise or Serenades? If you’re like me and thought this genre had seen it’s best albums almost two decades, or you agree with Ray’s review of the most recent My Dying Bride album (2011’s Evinta), then you need to track this album down! Originally self-released on vinyl LP in 2009, this is the CD version with “improved mastering and layout.” Regardless of your format choice (I own both for good measure), this Finnish band’s debut full-length is outstanding. While easily categorized as Death/Doom, what sets W.A.I.L. apart is how they managed to capture the feeling of the pioneers, My Dying Bride in particular, while crafting original songs with near perfect tempo variation. Their music is laden with crushing, memorable riffs and tons of atmosphere. The percussion incorporating drums, keys, bongos, djemble, tambourine, triangle and maracas is brilliantly arranged, adding to the either the ambiance or heaviness as needed. The vocals follow suit and the “clean” vocals never cross that line leading into pure weakness like so many recent Death/Doom offerings. There aren’t female vocals, but if there were they’d be deadly. There are violins by a guest musician and, while not offering anything you haven’t heard before, they fit perfectly in place in the one song they’re used. This concept album, based on the band’s acrostic name, is it sure to please all die hard fans of the Doom trinity, and I predict W.A.I.L. will be signed to a major indie label (Profound Lore Records?) if they haven’t already.

There is no bigger fan of Roger “Rogga” Johansson than myself, but even I am starting to wonder if the man isn’t spreading himself a little bit too thin. Encyclopaedia Metallum can’t even keep tabs on how many bands “Revolting” Rogga is currently or formerly a part of. It seems like every time you turn around he’s in some new project that, aside from a few slight dissimilarities, sounds exactly like his other bands. Altogether it seems as though he’s putting out a new album every month! It’s for this reason I ponder whether his bread-and-butter bands, Paganizer and the mighty Ribspreader, suffer the consequences of his idea well being run dry. He is somehow still a monster on the mic. Only a select handful of vocalists can lay claim to being more brutal while still retaining some element of intelligibility. For Revolting he also handles six-string duties, and talk about a riff machine. If I had a dollar for every good riff Rogga wrote I wouldn’t need to work (or rob folks). Again, not much stylistic difference from his main bands. Perhaps a wee bit Thrashier than most of his projects, but still pure Old School Swedeath to the core. In Grisly Rapture starts off solid with the powerful one-two punch of “Hell in Dunwich” and “The Plague of Matul.” Unfortunately, things really kind of taper off from there, which brings me back to my operational exhaustion theory. Not much else on the album is all that memorable, save for the dynamic melodic interplay on “(Beyond) The Book of Eibon.” Rogga’s rugged pipes work very well with melancholy (see The 11th Hour). Maybe that’s an avenue he should explore in the future. The man eats, sleeps, shits, and breathes high quality Swedish Death Metal, and that’s why we love him, but everyone is susceptible to burn out. If anyone has earned a vacation…

You never can predict what bands are going to catch fire when it comes to Extreme Metal. For whatever reason, Michiganites The Black Dahlia Murder are huge. I think they’re currently touring with Godsmack for fuck’s sake. What’s surprising is that they’ve managed to get to the top by not really sacrificing any heaviness when it comes to their Thrash-infused brand of Death Metal. Almost as if they were randomly cherry picked to be a success story while countless Death Metal bands that pack a million times more punch are paying to play free shows with Bitchslicer. Not that I’m hating. I’m sure they’ve paid their dues, and truthfully, these guys aren’t that bad. It’s just that it’s been a decade, five full-length albums, and we’re still waiting for them to write their first memorable riff. I’ve read many interviews with the band and they usually prove to be more entertaining than their actual music. They seem to be pretty down-to-Earth guys, as if the vast wastelands of Michigan could bear anything but. The kind that would be cool to have a beer and talk Metal with. As for Ritual, it’s pretty much indistinguishable from any of their other records. Fast, heavy, boring. I think the main obstacle that prevents me from enjoying this - and makes their success even more perplexing - is vocalist Trevor Strnad. Like I said, cool guy. No question about it. His vocals? Awful. Pure shit. No ability whatsoever. Whether it’s his pitiful basic growl or his beyond annoying screech, it’s hard to make it through one full song. Yet, they’re probably playing a sold out Soldier Field tonight. Maybe people just like what they’re told to? Good karma? Mafia ties? Okay, maybe I’m hating a little. But seriously, some kind of Upper Peninsula djinn? Illuminati?

I usually don’t bat an eye when I read something advertised as “the most brutal Death Metal album of the year” anymore, because you see that promised with such frequency these days. However, Italy’s Putridity back up Willowtip’s claim with unapologetic force on their second “full length” album. No gay intro necessary, you hit play and are instantly pulverized by machine gun snare hits, jackhammer double bass, a hail storm of pinch harmonics, downtuned buzzsaw guitars, rumbling bass sewage, and guttural vocals so over-the-top that a lyric sheet wouldn’t stand a snowball’s chance in Hell. The songs are completely indecipherable. I honestly don’t know how the band even tells them apart. Only the pauses in between songs alert you that the tracks have changed. So, you can throw memorability out the window, but this is one of those rare albums that can be appreciated for its sheer, inhuman brutality alone. This 24-minute, swarming, rabid flow of dizzying truculence is like a warm, fuzzy, electric blanket that comforts and soothes the cold and weary Death Metal fiend. Once the album comes to its abrupt end, it immediately leaves a void that can only be filled with more insanely brutal Death Metal. Now where the fuck is my copy of that new Defeated Sanity?