When a band releases a collection of rare and unreleased tracks, I always fear the worst. You see, rare and unreleased tracks are rare and unreleased for a reason. They usually suck Godzilla’s giant mutant reptile penis. If they were any good, chances are that they would have been included on an album or something more widely available. Compilations of rare and unreleased tracks are a quick cash-in, much in the same way that demo represses are. Gravkamre, Kroner og Troner (“Grave, Crown and Throne,” if my Norwegian is accurate) is a two-CD compilation of some new stuff, cover songs (Emperor, Burzum, GG Allin), B-sides, bonus tracks, and live recordings. There’s a lot here, and thankfully most of it is worthwhile. The material on display covers quite a bit of ground. There are tracks like “Lamb,” which was from a vinyl-only tribute to Von, that are fast and primitive. Others cover the length and depth of Norse Black Metal, veering from being influenced stylistically by Emperor to Darkthrone to Mayhem to Burzum. The live tracks, which comprise the bulk of the second CD, have a different feeling to them. In a live setting, Taake channels Hellhammer/Celtic Frost like they were a tribute band. Hoest even uses Tom Warrior’s trademark grunts during the songs. If you’re a fan of Taake already, or you’re looking for something that gives you a good sampling of what this band sounds like, Gravkamre, Kroner og Troner is worth tracking down. Even though this is a “rare and unreleased” compilation, it still is representative enough of the band’s sound for a new listener to get a good idea of what Taake is all about.

If you’re like me, you miss modern Metalcore’s good old days. The days before the incorporation of mainstream elements (namely Radio Rock, Glam, and Goth… the Hot Topic way). The days before the genre overdosed on cum. You’re tired of thumbing through magazines and seeing all these pre-teen Jonas Brother-looking motherfuckers dressed up like Nikki Sixx for Halloween. What could be the genre’s remedy for all of this fake plastic music and lame posturing, you ask? Black guys. That’s right, I said black guys. Let’s not forget who invented Rock ‘n’ Roll, bitches. And not just regular black guys, these are occult-dabbling black guys from France. Well, four out of the six members, anyway. Luckily those other two don’t have Bieber hair. Look, in all seriousness, I don’t really give a shit what any band look like as long as they bring it. On Will, Love, Life, As They Burn bring it, indeed. I’m not sure it’s even fair to pigeonhole them as a Metalcore band, but the guitars have that monstrous Acacia Strain/Emmure low end, and their use of breakneck groove is strikingly similar as well. Plus, the band’s on Victory —which apparently means guaranteed guest vocals from Frankie Palmeri (see “Freaks”)— so maybe it’s one of those guilty-by-association deals. It should be noted that the band’s bend-and-chug riffage occasionally owes a little to something to Meshuggah —it’s strange that I can’t stand Meshuggah, yet somehow find myself enjoying many of the bands they’ve influenced (A Life Once Lost circa A Great Artist for example)— and they aren’t afraid to wander into emotive Post Metal territory when the song calls for it, either. Make no mistake, these guys aren’t merely copycat killers under any circumstances. Their music has its own signature feel, due in large part to the passionate roar of Kevin Trevor. The angst and desperation that bleeds through the cracks of his voice create instant highlights out of “Medicine 2.0,” “Origin,” “Isis,” “Frozen Vision,” and “When Everything Falls Apart.” Bastien Jacquesson’s subtle-but-effective usage of keyboards and samples also serves to lend the band’s sound a unique touch. Overall, it’s As They Burn’s addictive energy and unapologetically pit-friendly delivery combined with an underlying sense of misery and despair that carries the album to the land of replay value. It will be interesting to see if they can maintain this vibe without resisting the pressure to “progress as musicians” (aka: turn queer). Keep it 100.

There has been some debate regarding the literal English interpretation of this album title and its actual meaning. After several hours of extensive research, I’ve come to the conclusion that it translates roughly to, “We are not good anymore.” Yes, folks. It’s unfortunately true. [My black heart is officially broken. -Editor] Not since Humpty Dumpty has there been a fall so great. 2010’s Danny Aealo LP was nearly a complete turd sandwich by Rotting Christ standards, and really the first thing close to a turd sandwich these Greek Black Metal legends had ever laid on us. Some of us are more partial to the masterfully raw, primitive malevolence of early Rotting Christ, others fancy the mesmerizing majesty of their melodic mid-career era [Or both! -Editor], but I don’t know anyone who prefers Rotting Christ as some kind of 300-themed party band. This new full-length was destined to be a definitive statement concerning our beloved band’s status. Was Aealo just a hiccup, or are their best albums truly behind them? When Sakis promised the media “a much darker record” earlier this winter, I was inclined to believe the former. Well… hate to be the one to break it to you, but it’s by far the latter. This motherfucker makes Aealo sound like Thy Mighty Contract. I’ve yet to even make it through the album in one sitting. It’s so atrociously bad, I have to stop and regroup. After the plodding intro of “In Yumen - Xibalba,” the song rides a decent blastbeaten hook straight into a trademark melody, but Sakis’ new throatier yell and incessant need to chant gibberish ruin any chance of replay value. Similarly, “P’unchaw Kachun - Tuta Kachun” buries another patented Rotting Christ moment between hideous tribal arrangements and awkward gang-shouted bits. “Grandus Spiritus Diavolos” has a slight Triarchy-like feel, and “Ahura Mazda - Anra Mainiuu” might be able to pass for something off Sleep of the Angels… if one were to remove all traces of sincerity and melancholic genius from those albums, and replace them solely with pompous theatrics. I could go on and on. The point being that every song proves to be ultimately terrible, with only a shrouded reminder of who we’re actually listening to wasted within. The exceptions being “Cine Iubeste Si Lasa” and whatever the fuck track 10 is called. If you can make it through these two without hitting the skip button, I’ll mail you $100. (Which coincidentally would make you the richest person in Greece.) This just isn’t Rotting Christ. It’s too jubilant, festive, eccentric, and melodramatic to be Rotting Christ. If the old coffin spirit is dead, then so be it. Let us respectfully mourn. Call this useless drivel something else.

It’s a celebration, bitches. Show Lost Soul your titties! To commemorate 20 years as a band, this Polish Tech-Death powerhouse has released a colossal double-disc compilation of career-spanning material. For existing fans of the band such as myself, this package is an essential treat that pretty much sells itself. Disc One (Genesis) is a fresh take on old gems, plus a few new surprises. You get 1992’s debut demo Necrophil re-recorded in its entirety. You get select cuts from the impossible-to-find Superior Ignotium (1994), Scream of the Mourning Star (2000), and Ubermensch (2002) LPs, again, all re-recorded for maximum-quality sickness. You also get two songs from 1998’s breakthrough Now Is Forever demo (which would later serve as the Poles’ contribution to both the Disco’s Out, Slaughter’s In and Polish Assault 4-way splits), as well as a supremely beefed up version of “If the Dead Can Speak” and two covers. Their sped-up spin on Metallica’s “For Whom the Bell Tolls” —with drumming faster than Lars Ulrich can think— must be heard to be believed, and to a lesser extent the same can be said for their unexpected choice of “Spitfire” by Industrial/Rap outfit The Prodigy. For posterity and collectors’ sake, Disc Two (Lords of Endeavors) presents original unearthed rarities from the dark past. It features 1993’s Eternal Darkness demo, select tracks from the aforementioned ‘94, ‘98, ‘00, and ‘02 releases, and the previously unheard “Moira.” Obviously, the sound quality of the second disc varies —ranging from “not that bad” to “HOLY SHIT”— but overall it serves as a testament to just how far Jacek Grecki & Co. have come. This blast-happy Death horde may not have always had a studio budget, but they’ve always had wicked fucking chops. For new fans, Genesis probably isn’t the best place to start. A valuable history lesson, indeed, but it’s simply an absurd amount of Lost Soul to attempt to digest all at once. 2005’s benchmark opus Chaostream is more likely the way to go, although my 666th sense tells me that whatever the band does next could very well be their best yet.

<BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!> “Riverside, mothafucka!”
Wait a minute… This isn’t a new incarnation of the legendary Towpath… Dammit! Ray tricked me into reviewing another Prog album [I’m a bastard like that. -Editor]. Oh well, best to ruthlessly make fun of it and move on with my life. Dammit! It isn’t going to be that easy. Truth be told, these Polish Prog Rock veterans are actually quite capable of penning a decent tune when they aren’t going all A Beautiful Mind on that ass. Despite an almost complete lack of heaviness and songs that are often waaay longer than they need to be, this quixotic quartet cannot be written off entirely. A significant portion of Shrine of New Generation Slaves —did anyone else notice that spells out SONGS?— is undeniably moving and beautifully written. That is when they resist the urge to pour the crazy gravy all over everything. Repeated listens have revealed a bad song/good song pattern. Opener “New Generation Slave” is basically a 4-minute intro, but this ultra-mellow appetizer laced with random reflective-thought-vomit gives way to the album’s finest moment. “The Depths of Self-Delusion” is truly an amazing cut. Dark, catchy, and damn near impossible to only listen to once, this gem could probably be a modern-day Katatonia song in some kind of alternate reality. But then “Celebrity Touch” follows with a main riff so corny it could pass for the between-scene bullshit on That ’70s Show. I’m cursed with visions of Topher Grace jumping in slo-mo as I type! Meanwhile, I much prefer Barry Manilow-style piano ballad “We Got Used to Us” and the bass wizardry of the ethereal “Deprived” over the Funk-infused Rush filler of “Feel Like Falling” and 13-minute lullaby “Escalator Shrine” (replete with every spaced-out ’70s Prog cliche in the book). So there you have it. Every other song is a winner. A record of gently giant peaks and low, meandering valleys. If there’s one saving constant, it’s that frontman Mariusz Duda’s hypnotic singing voice and despondent lyrical outlook are consistently all-pro throughout. If they could ever dare to trim some of the Prog-for-the-sake-of-Prog fat, Riverside would become a truly elite artistic force.

So, here we have it. The sixth full-length from New England Metalcore sensations Killswitch Engage; their first to feature original vocalist Jesse Leach since 2002’s Alive or Just Queefing. Before we get into the new record, allow me to give you my personal KSE timeline:

• 2000: Bought their first album. (Pretty much bought every Metalcore band’s album in 2000. People do silly shit when they’re 21.) Wasn’t impressed. Read the lyrics. All songs about deep-throating Jesus’ cock. Broke CD into little pieces.

• 2002: Avoided aforementioned 2nd LP. Not at all moved by “My Last Lemonade” single.

• 2004-2009: Exit Leach, enter Blood Has Been Shed vocalist Howard Jones. Finally digging me some KSE. Band penetrates Billboard Top 40, earns Grammy nomination with Jones behind mic. According to racial stereotype, Jones’ dick also bigger than Leach’s.

• 2012: Jones diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. Disease presumably acquired from having to constantly look at Adam Dutkiewicz’s happy, smiling face. Decides to quit band.

Which leads us to the present. Leach is back, meaning more songs about how the plagiarized stories of Osiris —that’s right, Christians… you actually worship Egyptian gods— get him through tough times (such as long drive-thru lines at Starbucks). This time his adoration of the lie is more subtle. In the past he would’ve belted, “Oh, my sweet shepherd Christ / I long for you to shower my back with your holy Jew seed.” Nowadays it’s more like, “I look to the sky and know the time will come.” I will admit, Leach does have his moments… unfortunately all of those moments are on Nothing Stays Gold’s self-titled EP many moons ago. On Disarm the Descent, his harsh vocals sound like an angry bull dyke, his clean vocals sound like sad prayers to Jesus’ gaped asshole. Listening to him attempt bouts of soulful, operatic singing in the wake of the departed Jones is downright laughable. Musically this is Non-Threatening Radio Metal 101. All traces of heaviness, pit riff bravado, and heartfelt melancholy have been wiped clean and replaced with substandard PG-13 melodic sap. No wonder temporary fill-in vocalist Phil Labonte of All That Remains turned down the job. He wouldn’t have been able to tell his bands apart. All of the passion and sincerity left with Howard Jones. The only positive to take away from this lackluster Hot Topic fodder is the hope of a new Blood Has Been Shed LP.

A 10-year wait for the follow-up to a mind-blowing debut LP might be tough to justify for most brutal Death Metal bands, but in the case of Wormed, that seems about right. It’d probably take me a decade just to learn 2010’s Quasineutrality single. It’s not like this Spanish quintet’s jaw-dropping arsenal of unmatched brutality and dizzying technicality can be thrown together overnight. These guys are fucking scientists, musically and lyrically. Case in point, Exodromos is a concept album —no surprise coming from a band that plays concept riffs— serving as the prequel to 2003’s Planisphaerium debut that takes place 5 trillion years in the future. I’m not even going to pretend to grasp the storyline, but it’s something about a quantum wormhole devouring the universe and spitting it out backwards, as told through the eyes of Krighsu, the last known human survivor… you know… the usual Death Metal stuff! (Well, I suppose some DM bands do write about wormholes, but they’re usually talking about some dead whore’s cunt.) But let’s not label them UBDM’s Dream Theater just yet. (Well, maybe we could. I’ve only ever heard one DT cut more than once, and that was “Pull Me Under” — clearly a song about being put in a Dutch Oven.) Above all, Wormed equals guttural heaviness. Frontman Phlegeton takes pig squeals next level, while drummer Riky is a blastbeat cyborg handling with relaxed ease the vertigo-inducing time signatures that the guitar team of Migueloud and J. Oliver fire at him like Michael J. Fox with two Uzis. (Don’t believe me? YouTube some footage of this band live.) However, their attack isn’t strictly limited to multidimensional instrument acrobatics. They also utilize galaxy-sized pit riffs and subtle, eerie melody at will, often within the same track (see “The Nonlocality Trilemma,” “Tautochrone,” “Multivectorial Reionization,” “Techkinox Wormhole,” and epic closer “Xenoverse Discharger”). Wormed’s unconventionality and seemingly inhuman skill level may appear to be an insurmountable quandary for the common headbanger, but trust me when I tell you it’s completely listenable and easy to get lost in. This music is so brutifully intense it’s almost soothing. Of course, it helps to achieve the proper THC/MGD blood ratio beforehand. Only the intrusive spoken-word segue “Solar Neutrinos” —and to a lesser degree, its slam-happy cousin “Darkflow Quadrivium”— prevents Exodromos from total perfection.

I don’t know if Chasma considers themselves to be part of the Cascadian Black Metal scene (they’re from Oregon, which is in the area where that scene is located), but they do have a lot in common with other bands in that scene. The most notable similarities would be with Wolves in the Throne Room and Ash Borer. Chasma is fond of the long, hypnotic, repetitive song structures reminiscent of Burzum or Weakling, but these guys seem to be going for a more “astral” or ”deep space” feeling. One of the primary detractions that I’ve heard about this band from many quarters is that their songs are overly long. This is true. The songs on this album feel like they’ve been beaten into the floor. I didn’t particularly mind that part too much. I’ve survived seeing Burning Witch live (where they did a twenty minute feedback solo in a song that was already dreadfully long) so Chasma has a ways to go before I give up on them. My main gripe with this album isn’t that the songs are overly long. My issues with Codex Constellatia center on the fact that I didn’t think the music was heavy enough. The songs could have been punishingly heavy if the band actually tried to go in that direction. The production itself isn’t to blame. The instruments are all clearly discernible and nothing is buried. If anything, the Moribund Cult has always given us albums that have exceptional sound for the band’s genre, and Codex Constellatia continues that legacy. This sounds like a conscious choice by the band. Chasma isn’t using a lot of distorted guitar and what they do use isn’t really down-tuned or very heavily distorted. The Ambient nature of some of their song structures could have been enhanced with darker guitar tones or a little more distortion. Maybe I’m being a bit too picky. When I hear music like this, I think of bands like Celtic Frost or Triptykon (technically the same band, I know…), both of which are heavy as fuck while still incorporating Dark Ambient and horror soundtrack elements into their sound. Chasma is a good band and this album is also pretty interesting. My fear is that this group is slowly but surely entering the Post-Black Metal genre where they just play weird shit that sounds like it might have been influenced by Black Metal but really isn’t dark, evil or brutal at all. Hopefully, that won’t happen and they’ll rediscover their evil roots and produce a truly dark and twisted album next time.

It seemed like Six Feet Under really turned over a new pot leaf with 2012’s Undead — their best album since 1995 debut Haunted. That said, the comeback effort did wane slightly during its second half, and now another new full-length perhaps a bit too soon in its wake. Normally I’d say it all comes down to the vocals of Chris Barnes. Usually Six Feet Under records are only as good as he sounds. Their mid-tempo, groove-oriented brand of Death Metal is essentially always the same template of simple-but-effective riffage and drumming, so it’s up to Barnes to get those goat heads raised, right? Oddly enough, that isn’t the case on Unborn. Other than a couple wobbly moments on lead single “Prophecy,” Barnes is in consistently awesome form throughout. Forget about mid-career laugher Bringer of Blood. His performance here is more mid-Cannibal Corpse-career! In fact, his tone on the likes of “Zombie Blood Curse,” “Decapitate,” “Incision,” “The Sinister Craving,” and melodic intro/track “Neuro Osmosis” might be the deepest and darkest he’s ever achieved. The problem with Unborn is the lack of the catchy riff — the department Steve Swanson almost always excels in. That isn’t to say the music isn’t headbangably enjoyable throughout, but even some of the most standout riffcraft on display here —the vibrant mosh rhythms of “Fragment” and the fast-for-6FU shredding of “Alive to Kill You”— isn’t necessarily transitioned well. More than not, the phrase “going through the motions” springs to mind. I have to wonder if bassist Jeff Hughell going from the technically dazzling likes of Brain Drill and Rings of Saturn to Six Feet Under hasn’t taken some toll on his vigor. That’d be like Flo Mounier drumming for Pink Floyd. (On that note, Kevin Talley probably isn’t fully utilizing his wide range of capabilities as the sticksman for Death Metal’s answer to AC/DC, either.) It could be the band just needed more time between releases. Or perhaps I did. Either way, Unborn’s reign in my stereo is more than likely going to be brief. Despite a totally refocused Chris Barnes and more uniformly substantial —albeit arguably phoned-in— material than its predecessor, it sorely lacks Undead’s “hits.”

Even if you do try to keep your nose firmly pinned to the underground grindstone, there’s a good chance you’ve still never heard of this Teutonic tribe. The unsigned Black/Death quintet only have one full-length under their bulletbelts (2010’s De Morbis) to go along with this new 5-song EP. (Fun fact: “EPs” from unsigned bands used to be called “demos.”) However, they may not remain unknowns much longer. Forgotten Tales… (is that ellipsis really necessary?) is a surprisingly good listen throughout. Granted, it’s certainly nothing we haven’t heard before. Nevertheless, the band possess a penchant for catchy, high-quality songwriting that cannot be denied, and an all-pro production definitely doesn’t hurt matters, either. These guys shamelessly wear their primary influence on their sleeves, and that influence without question is Naglfar. (It should go without saying that implies an inherent nod to Swedish Black Metal grandaddies Dissection also… but I went ahead and said it anyway.) The chorus of leadoff blazer “Buried in Oblivion” wastes no time revealing that the Aegror gents are most likely no strangers to spinning classics like Diabolical, Pariah, and Harvest about 666 times a day, but who can blame them? In addition to worship of the masters, they also manage to work in an occasional pit riff, as well as subtle nods to melancholy both musically and lyrically. Speaking of the latter, these dudes were kind enough to write surefire crowd-pleaser “Manipulation” about my job. I’ve never even met them, yet they’ve successfully described my workplace environment to a tee. Strange but true. Forgotten Tales… closes out on a triumphant note with the part-Thrash ballad/part-Melodeath anthem “Behind Walls,” featuring a quick dose of decent clean vocals to boot. Make no mistake, Aegror aren’t quite all the way there yet —there isn’t a single arrangement here that won’t have you saying, “That sounds like _______”— but they’re damn close. Seeing as how this puppy is available for free download, you have absolutely no excuse for not checking it out. At the very least, you’ll find a couple awesome tunes to put the icing on that next mixtape.

Misanthrope has been around for ages (since 1988) but they’re one of the Holy Records bands that I never seemed to be able to keep up with. Other groups on that label, such as Nightfall, Orphaned Land, Septic Flesh and many more were on heavy rotation on my stereo, but Misanthrope stayed firmly underneath my radar. They released tons of material that I only found out about long after most of it had gone out of print. That being said, I don’t have a clear recollection of what they sounded like back in their early days. Ænigma Mystica, though, is pretty clearly Progressive Death Metal. Most people know that I generally despise anything with the word “Progressive” in it. Progressive Metal tends to be overly complicated and needlessly meandering. The whole genre thrives on odd song structures and experimentation for the sake of experimentation. This is on full display here. Ænigma Mystica has a lot of weird shit on it. There’s some funky slap bass on “L’arboresence du Lys,” for example. Now, I like the fact that they made the bass audible. I just wish it wasn’t this funky shit that would have only made sense on a Primus record. The main thing that I hate about this album is that there isn’t any consistency. There are solid, atmospheric songs like “Desponsation” mixed in with tracks that are just crap. If the whole album had been like “Desponsation” (or something reasonably close), I would have fucking loved this LP. It isn’t, though. You never know what you’re getting from one track to the next. This whole album sounds like a compilation of random songs that were hastily chosen. Maybe I’m just not “artsy” enough to understand what they’re doing. I’m a Metalhead who wants music that kicks my ass. Some of the tracks do just that. Unfortunately, most of them don’t. If you get the deluxe edition version of this album, there’s a second CD with the same tracks but with English lyrics and a different track order (no explanation for why the songs are in a different order is given). Also included in the deluxe edition is a DVD with a video for “Lycaon,” documentary footage of the band making Ænigma Mystica and some live material. If you’re a fan of Misanthrope and you can’t get enough of their stuff, I guess this is giving the fans what they want. It just doesn’t appeal to me in the least.

Is it just me, or do Death Metal vocalists seem to change more often than the price of gas? Sure, your upper-echelon types such as Suffocation, Vader, Obituary, Unleashed, Cianide, etc. have less difficulty maintaining that same iconic frontman (although, even heavyweight hitters like Cannibal Corpse, Morbid Angel, Sinister, and Bolt Thrower have had a few shuffles behind the mic), but when it comes to the “ultra-brutal” market? Forget about it. New guy every album. No continuity whatsoever. Why the bitch fit? I’m just a little pissed about A.J. Magana not doing the vocals for Defeated Sanity anymore, that’s all. Chapters of Repugnance was my absolute favorite brutal Death record of 2010, and his inhumanly guttural belch was one of the major contributing factors. Mind you, new gurgler Konstantin Luhring is pretty fucking brutal… he just isn’t ex-Disgorge brutal. (I know, who is, right?) In his defense, he isn’t the only reason Passages Into Deformity fails to live up to its mighty predecessor. The production is significantly weaker. The guitars and bass don’t sound quite as feel-it-in-your-bones heavy, and the recording of the drums is especially suspect. It seems they’ve opted for a rawer vibe and, while certainly not terrible, it’s just not as good. Musically the band still slay on all cylinders. They can give anyone a run for their money in the Tech department —specifically bassist Jacob Schmidt, who pulls off the blibbity-blooblies on a near-Websterian level— and when they decide to go all-pit-no-shit… well, let’s just say I hope you left your glasses in the car. These guys aren’t really memorable in the traditional Lionel Ritchie or Dismember sense; you remember their brutiful pummel more like you remember the SUV that ran over you — from your coma. Alas, minus Magana, it does not seem like the SUV was going as fast.
Favorites: “Naraka,” “Verblendung” (featuring guest vocals from the sorely missed Frank Rini), “The Purging,” and “Martyrium” (featuring guest vocals from the sorely missed A.J. Magana… just to be dicks I guess).

When I first saw this album’s cover art, I expected it to be Power Metal. It isn’t. There are Power Metal elements to this, but isn’t straight-forward Power Metal by any stretch of the imagination. This has a lot of Power Metal’s bombast but mixed with epic keyboard swaths, an operatic female singer who duels with a growly Black Metal styled vocalist and a very symphonic musical style. If you mixed Lacuna Coil with Cradle of Filth and added a hefty dose of Classical and a touch of Power Metal, you would get something similar to what Dusk and Darkness is doing. I’m a big fan of atmospheric music and Epic Escape had it in abundance. If you like Cradle of Filth, Lacrimosa or Gothic Metal in general, you’ll likely enjoy this album. Power Metal fans might also get a kick out of it, too. Those seeking anything more brutal or aggressive will want to look elsewhere, though.

Finland’s Omnium Gatherum just might be the best band to never release a truly great album. For instance, take their fourth and arguably breakthrough effort The Redshift. I don’t know if I listened to any song more than the emotive “Greeneyes” in 2008, yet aside from “A Shadowkey,” I doubt I listened to any of the other tracks more than once. 2011’s New World Shadows is another prime example. This time, a respectable handful of solid cuts, but mostly Melodeath filler. Album #6 from the sextet unfortunately does not buck this trend. Other than listen-to-on-repeat-for-days anthem “New Dynamic,” Beyond has little to offer but Proggy meandering and flat-out duds. Despite coming up at the same time, this band has often been compared to their countrymates Insomnium, and rightfully so as Insomnium —who now share lone original Omnium Gatherum member, guitarist Markus Vanhala— write consistently better tunes. One way to tell them apart is the passionate roar of OG’s Jukka Pelkonen. While his occasional clean croon tends to be hit-or-miss, I’m not sure any vocalist gets more range or conveys more emotion out of a Death Metal growl. But even this unique voice cannot rescue the record from its doldrums. Songs like the bouncy “In the Rim,” with its reflective clean-vocal break, the chuggy “Nightwalkers,” or the mournfully upbeat “Formidable,” with its Katatonic stomp, are certainly nowhere near terrible. They just don’t stick. Even the melody-rich “Living in Me,” with a chorus so lyrically relevant to my life at the moment, holds little if any replay value. These guys have all the talent in the world and broken hearts firmly in the right place, yet the fact remains that they do not write memorable songs the majority of the time. If they ever allow me to handpick their Greatest Hits compilation, I promise it will be a perfect 10. Until that day comes, they’re strictly a mixtape band.

This is album number four for Finland’s Masterstroke, but this LP seems to show a band either in search of an identity or with an identity crisis. My guess is that it’s the latter. Musically, Masterstroke sounds like they’re a Power Metal band that wants to play Thrash, but their Power Metal roots keep showing. The result is a fairly potent musical assault that is heavier than your average Power Metal band, but still having the blazing solos and strong hooks. Where Masterstroke hits a snag is in the vocal department. Vocalist/guitarist Niko Rauhala has a good vocal range, but he seems to want to prove how tough he is by attempting to sound like Chuck Billy (Testament). This isn’t a good thing when your music has this much Power Metal in it. Power Metal demands clean, melodic vocals. When Niko goes for that, especially when an anthemic chorus hits, it sounds awesome. Listen to the chorus for “Seed of Chaos” and tell me that shit doesn’t rock. When he goes for a more Thrash-oriented style, things become disjointed. There are parts where the vocals clearly don’t fit the music. There is a time and a place for Thrash-styled vocals, and apparently Niko hasn’t figured it out completely. When the music is melodic, the best course is to be melodic vocally. Face it, Judas Priest would suck if Tom Araya suddenly replaced Rob Halford. That’s kind of the equivalent of what is on display here. The playing is fine. Musically, this is some pretty solid Thrash-infused Power Metal. If Niko can figure out the vocal aspect, Masterstroke will truly kick some serious ass. As it stands, Broken is a good album that could have been great, but just fell short. I suggest listening to two Heathen albums and giving it another go.

It’s hard for me not to refer to Hate as Behemoth Junior in jest. Just like Behemoth, Hate hail from Poland and play otherworldly-fast Death Metal, but what I didn’t learn until seeing them open for Rotting Christ a couple years ago was that Hate also paint their faces white and wear leather dude-gowns… just like Behemoth. Next thing you know, frontman Adam the First Sinner will be microwaving his balls in an attempt to get cancer so he can beat it. Okay, in all seriousness, it really isn’t much of an insult being so closely compared to such an established, upper-echelon outfit. And to be honest, the Hate camp have somewhat distanced themselves from the clone conversation with this stellar new full-length. Yes, these guys still bring the speed and fury with the best of their countrymates, but Solarflesh is far from a pedal-to-the-metal-100%-of-the-time affair. It’s actually a very layered record, rich in dynamics and atmosphere, whereon songs are given room to breathe. As the moody arrangements shift, the lightspeed brutality sounds all the more explosive when used strategically in relative moderation. It seems they’ve figured out that waiting in line is part of what makes the rollercoaster ride so thrilling. Standout tracks such as “Eternal Might,” “Alchemy ov Blood,” and “Timeless Kingdom” begin as men before violently changing into werewolves, only to mutate elsewhere through a sea of the most evil mid-tempo hooks this side of Morbid Angel and the band’s dazzling start-stop magic. Meanwhile, they resist the urge to blast altogether on double-bass-fueled slow jams like “Sadness Will Last Forever,” “Endless Purity,” and “Mesmerized,” allowing the power of their sound, the precision of their playing, and AtFSinner’s all-pro roar to take center stage. I know it’s early, but the odds of anyone writing a better Death Metal song than the title track this year are slim at best. Just the definitive Hate cut. A pure anthem. Acoustic intro, buildup, blast furnace, a breakdown so wicked it gives me the chills every fucking time, blasted verses, twisted melodies, hook-laden chorus, creepy solo… total perfection. The Limited Edition bonus tracks are a mixed bag. You do get “Hatehammer” (another headbangable down-tempo gem), but you also get “Venom” and “Fall ov All Icons.” Two Ambient/Industrial instrumentals that combine for an awkward double-outro, which —along with relatively unnecessary intro “Watchful Eye ov Doom”— comprise the only filler found on this otherwise excellent monster of an LP. Nothing to make fun ov here.

After listening to this three-song demo, I have a hard time believing that this is not only the first release by this band, but that they’re a relatively new band (active since 2012, according to metal-archives.com). Shadecrown kind of reminded me of the first time I heard the Alone Walkyng demo tape from the Norwegian Hades (aka Hades Almighty). What does a Melodic Doom/Death Metal band from Finland have in common with a Black Metal band from Norway? They both released a first demo that had three songs on it and all of them kicked ass. This is a clear case of quality over quantity. Yes, the whole thing clocks in at around thirteen minutes. It’s short, but it’s also impactful. If I were a label owner, I’d be moving them to the head of the line in terms of who I wanted to sign. These songs are well written and well executed. The sound on this recording was great. For a self-released product, this is top notch. Musically, it is in the vein of bands like Chorus of Ruin, old Avernus or maybe old Morgion (back when they were more Death Metal). It isn’t crushingly heavy, but what it lacked in that department, they made up for it in atmosphere. If you like melodic, atmospheric Doom/Death Metal, this is some good stuff. My only real gripe was that it was so short. I liked this so much that I was seriously disappointed when it was over. Shadecrown is definitely a band to look out for. If they can produce a full-length that has the same quality as this demo, we’ll be talking about it for years to come.

It certainly is a treat to have this blasphemic Dutch horde back in action. Their 9-year hiatus created a void in the Death Metal world that Severe Torture just couldn’t fill. For those unfamiliar, Centurian rose to power in 1997 after the fall of Inquisitor, but their reign was all too brief. Only a classic debut EP (Of Purest Fire), a flawless debut LP (Choronzonic Chaos Gods) and its somewhat inferior follow-up (Liber Zar Zax) comprised their discography until now. While an 11-year gap between release dates would surely alter the sonic DNA of lesser bands, I’m pleased to report that this quartet hasn’t missed a step. The old vibe is alive and well, as Contra Rationem successfully sounds like the album they should have made after Chaos Gods. No surprise, really, considering this is essentially that same founding core. The only exception being the absence of original drummer Wim Van Der Valk, whose place oddly enough has been taken by original vocalist Seth Van de Loo, whose place has been taken by Prostitute Disfigurement vocalist Niels Adams. Honestly, if I hadn’t looked, I probably wouldn’t have even realized it, because the sound and approach feel so much like the old days. Morbid Angel has always been a major influence on Centurian —in fact, the band won many a Metalhead over with their ripping cover of “Blasphemy”— and on cue the opening Azagthothesque riffcraft and Sandovalian blastfest of “Thou Shalt Bleed for the Lord Thy God” are quick to remind us of this pleasant fact. This album is a half-hour of relentless brutality so swift and punishing that it crushes the listener into a fine mist. So much Satanic fury and virtuoso musicianship, it’s like getting beat up by Deicide, Angelcorpse, and Hate Eternal in an alley. My only complaint is that it’s over too damn soon! By the time the ash settles from the blastbeat inferno of “Adversus,” you’re already jonesing for that next Brunelle lead fix. Hopefully we won’t have to wait another decade for it.

Spektr has always been an oddball in the French Black Metal scene. They’re as much a Dark Ambient band as they are a Black Metal band. Most of their stuff only loosely falls under the Black Metal banner, with the majority of it sounding more like weird, experimental Death Industrial/Dark Ambient than Metal. The second track (“Teratology”) even has some odd Jazz drumming in there between eruptions of instrumental Black Metal. Structurally, this is very loose. Ambient music tends to be more about creating moods and soundscapes than composing coherent songs. If anything, Spektr is far better at creating a dark and depressive ambience than they are at playing Black Metal. The portions of this album that fall into the Black Metal category are very Necro (read: no bass in the guitars) sounding. When you consider that Spektr contains a member that is also in Haemoth, that isn’t a surprise. If you’ve ever heard anything by Haemoth, you know that Necro Black Metal is the order of the day. If this had just been a Black Metal album like Satanik Terrorism, I probably would’ve turned it off after the first song. The difference is that the Necro Black Metal is successfully intermixed with the Dark Ambient stuff to where the bass-free guitars don’t get irritating. Cypher is an interesting album that appeals almost as much to fans of Lustmord as it does to fans of raw and chaotic Black Metal. If you like The Devil (as I do), you’ll find that Spektr is very much in line with what they are doing, though lacking the stellar production and awesome guitar sound that The Devil has. Cypher is a bit more experimental, but if you like your Black Metal tempered with a healthy dose of Dark Ambient, you’ll enjoy this album.

Unlike a lot of these phonies out there, I’m not going to pretend that I’ve been listening to World Without God for 20+ years. I’ve never even seen an original pressing of Convulse’s legendary 1991 debut LP, so I’d like to know where everybody got one. However, since Relapse reissued that bad boy in 2010, I can’t say I’ve listened to any Death Metal record more often. It’s simply a masterpiece of crusty Old School Death. It’s Finland’s Left Hand Path, if you will, and surprisingly a great album to sleep to on low volume if you happen to be into that sort of thing. (I can’t be the only one.) Hardly the same band that followed up with the Stoner Rock disaster Reflections three years later. So, when I learned that the group had reunited in 2012 and were putting out a 7-inch that promised to be a return to brutal form, I was fucking psyched. Their first recording in 19 years? Their first potentially good recording in 22 years? I was beginning to wonder why people weren’t making a bigger deal out of this… then I actually heard it. DAMN! This is some boring shit, folks. I realize it has been a while, and sure it’s only two songs, but I mean this is booooring. This would also be a good one to fall asleep to, but for an entirely different reason. Rami Jamsa’s guttural growl doesn’t sound half-bad, but musically speaking, this is merely an autopiloted rehash trudging lifelessly through the mid-paced motions. Inner Evil is more phoned in than Righteous Kill. After two decades of nothing, we get twelve minutes of… nothing. Generic nostalgia for the sake of generic nostalgia. Maybe this is just a little warm-up to clear the creative cobwebs before unveiling the good album we all hope they still have in them, but even grading on that curve, this is still painfully mediocre at best.