You know, I’ve listened to a lot of Folk Metal over the last decade or so and I’ve somehow gotten to be considered an expert on the sub-genre. I’ve heard good bands and I’ve heard bands that I wish that I could forget. I’ve seen awesome bands produce one album and then disappear and I’ve seen crap bands pump out album after album of audio horse shit for years on end while never getting any better. I’ve heard Arkona (the Russian one, not one of the other dozen or so bands with the same name) off and on over the last decade or so, and to tell you the truth, I’ve never been able to listen to them for more than a few songs at a time. This holds true for Slovo. Some of the songs are okay, but a large number of them are just hokey crap that sounds like a Renaissance Faire with electric guitars and a double-bass drummer. If you want a Folk Metal album done well, you can look to bands like Falkenbach or Cruachan (the latest album in particular is pretty kick-ass) because they remember that the Metal comes first and that the happy, bouncy, Ren-Faire shit only works when you’re playing at the beer tent. I wasn’t even going to pick this up but someone told me that it was the best Arkona album in years. I should’ve listened to my gut instinct, because while this may be the best Arkona album in years, that isn’t exactly saying much. If you want to listen to a kick-ass band called Arkona, I recommend looking up the Polish one, though their albums are all probably long out of print.

Maybe you picked up on this by the album title, but Glorior Belli combine substandard, pro-life Black Metal with Pantera worship. My dick writes better songs than Pantera. Pantera fans are happy faggots. Pantera’s music would best be described as Christian Soft Rock. Hurricane Katrina was punishment from Satan because Phil Anselmo lives in New Orleans. My dick is going to start an anti-Semetic Powerviolence band called Nathan Gale. Nathan Gale was a true American hero. I am the president of the Nathan Gale fan club. Pantera fans love Jesus Christ because he is their savior and he died for their sins. Vinnie Paul’s drumming makes Marky Ramone’s seem like World Downfall-era Pete Sandoval. The God Delusion was a New York Times bestseller because Richard Dawkins does not listen to Pantera. The Challenger mission failed because someone on the ground was listening to Projects in the Jungle. The Mayan calendar ends in 2012 because of Down’s last album. My parents got a divorce because of how much Pantera’s Christian Soft Rock sucked. Pantera’s complete discography is the reason the United States is in a recession. George W. Bush wrote all of Pantera’s lyrics. Many of the illegal aliens in the United States are going back to their native countries because they heard a Pantera song. Downs Syndrome was named after the band Down. In a nuclear war, China would destroy us because they don’t listen to Pantera. In states where it is legal, “Cemetery Gates” is the most popular song played at gay weddings. Animal from the Muppets was a better drummer than Vinnie Paul. Glorior Belli owe Black Metal an apology. You should not listen to Glorior Belli’s pro-gay marriage brand of Black Metal. I have to go listen to the first album by Make a Change… Kill Yourself to remind myself of what real, anti-life Black Metal sounds like. Real Black Metal bands are not influenced by Pantera. Intelligent people do not listen to Pantera.

This is some seriously fucking heavy shit. Not heavy like 8-year old girls think Mastodon is heavy, I mean heavy like Fort-Knox-is-fucking-empty heavy. I mean heavy like 9/11-was-an-inside-job heavy. I mean heavy like having-the-same-factory-job-for-50-years-then-getting-ball-cancer heavy. My only cause for concern going into this follow up to 2010’s equally bludgeoning Malevolence album, was new vocalist Jamie Hanks, who replaced Jonathan Huber, who jumped ship for Pathology last year. No need to worry. If no one had told me, I wouldn’t have even known they’d made a switch. Their styles (deep, guttural, traditional Deathcore growls) are remarkably identical. The style is pure, no-frills Deathcore, so if you’re some kind of happy faggot who loves life, you won’t be into this at all. I Declare War write breakdowns like they are the first band to ever breach the concept. And honestly that’s the approach you have to take. That’s why the breakdowns here are so skullfuckingly awesome. Forget about what’s not considered cool anymore by people who have never been considered cool. These guys have not only nailed but perfected the Deathcore formula. They’ve taken all of the hokiness out of it, and good riddance. This is dead serious brutality. I’m talking about popping-6-Advil-PMs-and-taking-a-nap-on-the-train-tracks serious. Which brings me to the cover art. I love it. Quite possibly the album cover of the year. A simple but effective statement displaying a damn good idea. As much as I’m all for individuality and creativity and all that junk, it wouldn’t bother me if everyone used this exact same cover art. At least then you’d know what the good shit is.

According to what I’ve heard surrounding this album, it was originally recorded back in 1990 as the first attempt at a true Beherit LP. The original tapes were lost and this recording was buried by time and dust until Sodomatic Slaughter decided to clean his room one day. Apparently, At the Devil’s Studio was in a box under his bed all these years and he didn’t even know it. If that’s the case, it makes me wonder how long it’s been since he last cleaned up. Having listened to The Oath of Black Blood many, many times, I have to say that the sound and the playing on At the Devil’s Studio is actually pretty good when stacked up against what ultimately became the band’s debut album. One of the hallmarks of old Beherit was the fact that everything was so sloppy and chaotic that it somehow worked despite itself. As you might expect, that’s all on full display here. Oddly, the flaws on this album -the tape hiss, the pops, the distorted parts and occasional skips where the tape was damaged- actually add to the recording rather than detracting from it. I found myself getting nostalgic for the days when bands recorded demo tapes on shitty Tascam 4-track recorders and then duplicated them on the cheapest cassettes they could get. The sound was always bass-heavy and distorted, but half the time that was the point. Fans of old Black Metal (particularly early Nun Slaughter, Sarcofago, Bestial Summoning, Worship Him-era Samael, Von, Necrovore, and Blasphemy) will surely enjoy this for what it is: a nostalgia release for Black Metal’s old timers. We may never see a “Golden Oldies” release for Second Wave Black Metal (the First Wave being Venom, Mercyful Fate and Bathory), but if we did, it would probably sound a lot like this.

Just the worst kind of piece of shit Death/Grind you could possibly imagine. Beyond fucking horrible. Pure fucking garbage. Noise on top of noise on top of overly technical slop on top of pure fucking shit. Zero entertainment value. None. No songs. No riffs. Zilch. Zip. Just noises and substandard growling. Guitar acrobatics and blast beats designed solely to impress other virgins. 40,000 notes per second for 45 agonizing minutes. Anti-memorable, anti-song, anti-entertainment entertainers. Fuck the audience, watch how many notes I can play. They won’t be able to tell if we fuck up because nothing we write is decipherable anyway. Look at my ridiculously unkempt beard. Gibberish. Pure mindless shit. Horrible fucking anti-music. No ideas. No musical value whatsoever. If all Death/Grind sounded like this, I would listen to nothing but Rap and Country exclusively. This band makes me ashamed to love Extreme Metal and to wear a beard. They have a song called, “Transmogrification into Bio-Luminoid.” Nice try, but I don’t believe you are intelligent. If you were intelligent, you could write a riff. Maybe even a song. If you were intelligent, your beards would look more presentable. Horrible garbage. Or as the band would put it, lurid offscouring. You live with your parents. Break up and kill yourselves. Pure shit. Pure virgins.

When I heard that ICS Vortex of Dimmu Borgir was doing a solo album, I expected something more along the lines of Abrahadabra or In Sorte Diaboli, but maybe more guitar-heavy. What I got was something completely different. This isn’t a Black Metal album. I’d even be hesitant to even call this Metal. Storm Seeker is more like a Progressive Rock album than anything else. It isn’t very aggressive, and for the most part, it dwells in an area that is dark but really pretty mellow. The music never gets heavy or brutal - it just is. The vocals are likewise delivered competently but they definitely lack in passion. It’s almost disconnected, in a way. ICS Vortex may have written the music and performed the vocals but he doesn’t seem to be “into it.” This is very clinical in that respect, and reminds me of a lot of Folk Noir bands I’ve heard over the years, though musically, this is vastly different. It’s like someone went out and told people that cutting loose and giving it 110% is wrong and that idea stuck and became the norm. Technically perfect performances are fine, but if there isn’t any “soul” in the vocals, then no amount of studio magic can fix it. Storm Seeker is a well executed album but the intangible aspects are what pulls this down. What Storm Seeker needs is boldness in both the music and vocals. The music is just too mellow and the vocals are just too passive. Don’t be afraid to kick ass! Hell, Journey kicked more ass than this and they weren’t even Metal!

Every once in a while Ray tries to sneak some Power Metal into my review pile with the hope that I’ll tear it to shreds and we’ll have a good laugh about it. Truth is, Philadelphia’s Pharaoh aren’t really awful enough to slander with 100 different derogatory homosexual remarks. They’re just a boring, middle-of-the-road Power Metal band. This is some kind of B-sides EP made up of 7-inch tracks with Slayer and New Model Army covers. Again, much like the majority of human beings, it just simply exists without really needing to. So, while it doesn’t suck enough to rip a new asshole, I will list the Top 10 things I would rather do than listen to this EP. 10) Throw a huge party and get two kegs of O’Douls. 9) Watch a PG-13 rated Horror film. 8) Go back in time five months ago and ask Ryan Dunn for a ride home. 7) Walk through Chicago’s Cabrini Green dressed as a Ku Klux Klansman, asking people if they could spare some change for gas money. 6) Check out Opeth’s Bon Jovi cover on YouTube. 5) Use condoms. 4) Pay by check. 3) Go back in time four years ago and beg my then-girlfriend not to have that abortion. 2) Watch a regularly scheduled MTV program. 1) Go to the doctor and find out what those bumps on my dick are.

I’ve been a fan of Peter Tagtgren’s work since the first note on Penetralia, so I hate to say that I’m disappointed by this album. That disappointment doesn’t come from a band putting out something substandard (such as Hypocrisy’s Catch 22 - no amount of reworking could save that abortion) but it comes from a band putting out an LP that sticks to a well-used formula and doesn’t deviate from it for an instant. The songs on here are well executed, well produced, but ultimately stuff you’ve heard already on previous Pain albums in one form or another. The marketing on this was that it had all of the best elements of previous Pain releases - and that might be true. That, sadly, doesn’t translate to an album full of great tracks. This leads to the second problem with You Only Live Twice: it doesn’t seem to have a standout track or anything “special” compared to previous albums. I’ve listened to it any number of times, trying to pick out a song that would fall into that category, but nothing sticks out glaringly and says “I’m the best fucking track on this album.” The songs are all okay when you listen to them, but as soon as the CD stops playing, you can’t remember anything. Maybe I had my expectations set too high because the last Hypocrisy album fucking ruled. Peter Tagtgren fronts both bands, right? I figured that since he was writing the bulk of the music for Hypocrisy and all of the music for Pain, if the first was awesome, the other one would be kick-ass, too. You Only Live Twice doesn’t suck, but it really doesn’t go anywhere either. Sadly, I think that maybe Pain has run its course. Either Peter needs to bring in some outside collaboration to freshen things up, or he should just bury it before it becomes stagnant to the point of self-parody.

Forty minute songs as albums isn’t the world’s greatest idea. Sure, Edge of Sanity pulled it off twice. Diabolical Masquerade also got away with it, and Jesu went even longer than forty. Opeth could probably do it if they weren’t too busy making Genesis records. But all these bands have one thing in common that the homosexually named U.S. Christmas doesn’t have… talent. The clean male vocals here sound as if they were intended to seduce young boys. There is also some cunt doing backup vocals who sounds high as a kite. This thing plays like a soundtrack to a film about a gay cowboy who is fighting his severe addiction to eating pudding. Or it could be the result of taking lethal amounts of LSD and wandering aimlessly down Halsted Street. Either way I’m willing to bet this synchs up perfectly with Brokeback Mountain. Seriously, I’m nine fucking minutes into this piece of shit and I’ve heard one slow hippie drumbeat, slow hippie guitar soloing, and slow hippie “singing.” Nine more minutes in… some ocean sounds and what might as well be dead silence. Wow. And I’m honestly expected to stick around for another mind-numbing 20 minutes? I have a fucking job! I have bills I need to pay! Plus there’s some shit I want to watch on TV and then I have some real music I can listen to. Maybe this is something the Sludge cunts use to wind down with after a hard day of drinking Starbucks, getting rabbits tattooed on their tits, and winking on Zoosk. Regardless, some brainless cumstain will undoubtedly try to pass this off as “art.” Trust me, the Education Connection jingle is about a thousand times more moving.

This album is a bit hard to review. The sound and production on this are slick and modern, but the songs are actually decades old. Hell was originally part of the same NWOBHM movement that spawned Angel Witch, Iron Maiden, Jaguar and even Def Leppard. They released a 7-inch EP and a demo back in the day, but they never got it together long enough to release a full-length album. Lineup problems and other issues plagued them, and ultimately the suicide of founder David Halliday in 1987 put an end to the band. Now, over twenty years later, Andy Sneap has reformed Hell as a tribute to his old friend, David. While Sneap may be known more for working in the studio, producing albums for Metal bands, he learned how to play guitar from David Halliday and he was also a huge fan of Hell’s original incarnation. The music on this LP, while sounding modern in production, is faithful to the original demo recordings. Andy plays David’s guitar parts and new vocalist, David Bower (brother of guitarist Kev Bower) has taken over the mic. If you can imagine an old NWOBHM band getting a chance to re-record their first album with today’s technology, you get an idea how this sounds. The thing that takes a bit of getting used to is Bower’s vocal delivery. He brings a certain amount of campiness to the proceedings with his overly-dramatic vocals (imagine someone singing the way William Shatner acts). It took me several listens and several days of going “old-school” (listening to nothing but old Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Angel Witch, Venom, Motorhead, etc.) before I could put Human Remains in the proper perspective. If you’re a fan of melodic Metal in the old way, this is definitely one to add to your collection. This will also appeal to fans of Heathen, Death Angel or Power Metal bands like Hammerfall.

Child prodigies in the Death Metal genre are always a risky gamble. Let me date myself and ask, does anyone out there remember the Deathkids? Okay, the four people that do, can you remember any of their songs? See what I mean? But Germany’s Hackneyed are much better than that. If I’m not mistaken, they were in their very early teens or younger when they put out 2008’s Death Prevails, a fine album with some great songs that I can actually still remember (“Gut Candy,” “Worlds Collide”). I missed out on their second album (2009’s Burn After Reaping) somehow. Maybe a subconscious fear of a sophomore slump, or more realistically, I was probably out fucking some fat bitches. Regardless, I figured it’s time I dropped in on the kids and see how they’ve matured. Actually not a whole lot’s changed. They’re still writing simplistic but catchy and brutal Death Metal anthems. “Bugging for Mercy” and “Circus Coccus Spirilly” (whatever the fuck that means) have a real bareknuckle Jungle Rot quality, while “Maculate Conception” has some blasting and a pit riff that could get you headbanging at your dearest loved one’s funeral. “Magic Malignancy” also features solid blasting and a good chorus, although the pit riff isn’t quite as volatile. “Feed the Lions” is also a worthy cut, plus it reminds me of the good old days when we knew what to do with Christians. Funny how their god never saved them. A couple tracks here feature Deathcore-style “bree-bree” pig squeals, but other than that most trends are avoided. What’s unfortunate is the high amount of filler. Basically if I didn’t mention it, it’s because it wasn’t worth mentioning. So, a very good Death Metal album that potentially could’ve been better. You know, it’s sad. At the ripe age of 15, I was once a Death Metal child prodigy (sure, we might have to manipulate the meaning of the word “prodigy” just a little). Enjoy it while it lasts, guys. Hopefully when you reach your early 30s you won’t be listening to Hanging Garden and Happy Days every night with a gun in your mouth, trying to think of reasons to live.

With The Devil’s Rain, Jerry Only proves two things:
1) The man can still pen a catchy tune; and it wasn’t an accident that some of the most beloved tracks in The Misfits’ catalog have him listed as a contributing songwriter. There are moments on this album that will have you humming along long after the record is through, and that is something that every era of The Misfits have been able to deliver.
2) Jerry Only is not a lead singer. He is really trying to be on this album, and it’s obvious that he’s taken the role seriously. This doesn’t change the fact that the vocal delivery is stiff and lacking in dynamics. More than a few times it’s just outright flat. What we have here is Only doing his best to do a job that someone with a more natural ability would deliver a hundred times more effectively, and the material would be all the better for it. I have nothing but respect for the man, and his determined efforts to keep The Misfits out there after multiple line-up changes and assorted other dramas. But, this really could have been a much stronger record with a more confident voice at the forefront. Fiends will certainly be divided over this release, but I will cast my vote on the side of it being a solid LP, and worthy of the band name.

You know, I really am becoming quite the cynical asshole in my old age. With no information beyond band name, album title and tracklist, I popped this in and thought, “who are these fucking clowns trying to sound like Crust Punk Usurper?” Angrily I tossed it into the reject pile. Well, come to find out, it is ex-members of Usurper! We have here none other than Joe “Apocalyptic Warlord” (also of Dead Youth fame) on drums, Jon “Necromancer” (also of Kommandant fame) on bass/vocals, and “Carcass” Chris (also of Eternal Hatred fame) on guitars. Son of a bitch! I should’ve known with the Left Hand Path on meth guitar tone who I was dealing with from the start. Bones is basically filth-ridden Old School Death Metal, but with a ton of styles mixed in ranging from Thrash to Punk to NWOBHM. The band blend the styles effortlessly and seamlessly. Just listen to them go from Street Punk to early ’80s Sodom-worship on “Bitch.” Or take “Good Die Young,” a Hard Rock song that actually is HARD! When I see a song called “Lonely Death,” I automatically skip right to it because that’s the forecast for me, but I was not expecting a 2-minute Crust jam. So, they have some awesome riffs and have mastered genre-bending, there’s just one problem. None of it is memorable. No hits. None. The best song here is probably their cover of Devastation’s “Apocalyptic Warrior,” and that’s not saying much. This band have a lot going for them. All-star personnel, a guitar tone that crucifies Christ, and well-executed ideas. They just forgot to write songs. Hopefully next time.

I’ve been a fan of this band for a long time (since the debut album), so a new Falkenbach album is always something I pick up immediately as soon as I know it’s out. Having heard all of this band’s previous material, though, it makes this a tough review. On its own, this LP is solid Viking/Folk Metal that has well-played songs and tons of atmosphere. However, when viewed as the latest in a series of releases, this is just more of the same. Falkenbach knows that their fans want Hammerheart/Blood on Ice-styled Viking Metal and that is what you get. You got it on Heralding: The Fireblade, and you got it on the albums before that, too. If you are looking for adventurous song structures, bold new directions and such, you’re not going to find any here. You get songs with loads of medieval atmosphere, clean vocals, folk instruments, acoustic interludes and that “yearning for times long ago” feeling - all of which you got in varying degrees on the other releases. Seriously, this could be a mix tape of tracks from the band’s older material and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. If you’ve never heard Falkenbach before, this is akin to a “greatest hits” package in that it gives you everything you ever wanted to know about their music without having to track down albums that are probably out of print (especially the ones that were on No Colours). While this is musically as solid as you’re going to get, only Motorhead is allowed to release a “same old shit” album because they’ve already got enough awesome songs to fill a two hour set, a half-hour encore, a half-hour double-encore and a fifteen minute “are you crazy motherfuckers still here?” triple-encore. I had to knock off one and a half points from the rating for that reason. I didn’t want to do that to a band that I really like, but I didn’t need to buy Tiurida to listen to what was on here. I already have it. It’s called their back-catalog. This would probably be a 9 if I hadn’t already heard their previous releases.

Unfortunately this is not the new full-length we’ve been expecting from these Aussie Funeral Doomsters since 2009’s compelling The June Frost. We’ll have to wait just a bit longer for that, I suppose. This is a compilation of tracks from their split releases with Worship, Stabat Mater, and Stone Wings. It also features a re-recorded version of “Left Unspoken” from the Four Burials 4-way split (with Loss, Orthodox, and Otesanek) and a Thergothon cover. Call me a poser if you want to, I realize Thergothon is a major influence on nearly every Funeral Doom band, but I just don’t hear what’s so great about Stream from the Heavens. Maybe it’s because the album sounds like it was recorded using rubber bands and the radiator from an ‘85 Plymouth Reliant. Nevertheless, this is about Mournful Congregation, not Thergothon, just had to get that out of my system. Needless to say, I prefer their cover over the original by far. There are varying levels of production here that make for a slight distraction. These guys’ tunes are so apocalyptically slow that they require the attention span of Heimdall as it is. Still, when Funeral Doom fits the mood (which is a high percentage of the time in the Midwest) Mournful Congregation will do the job just about as well as anyone. The aforementioned upcoming release, The Book of Kings, is what I’m really anxious to sink my teeth into. If this new version of “Left Unspoken” is any indicator (the best song here, with easily the best production), it could be the defining moment of their legacy. But this adequate stopgap collection will have to do for now.

It’s astonishing how much we take this unholy Texan horde for granted. From their early days as a primitive Death Metal band to the mystical, occultist, Thrash-infused Black Metal we’ve come to know and worship, they are a quality staple whose legacy will forever be cemented in Hell’s hall of fame. What with their dizzying song structures, King Diamond wails, and lyrics of pure insanity. “Ninnihignizzu pazuzu tetragramaton chumbawamba kajagoogo!” Sixteen years later and I’m still trying to wrap my head around the meaning of “And Shineth Unto the Cold Cometh” from the legendary Third Storm of Cynthia LP. And to think, from the same soil that brought us mandatory incest, the death penalty for jaywalking, and W. We will miss them when they’re gone for sure, and hopefully that won’t be for many aeons as their recent output is among the finest of their two decade career. They are apparently running out of names for their releases, however. 2009’s Absu was a nearly flawless roller coaster of an album, now we have… Abzu? Just one letter changed? Unless it’s a reference to the popular Nigerian stomach exercise, I think it’s a weak title. It’s the only weak thing you’ll find here, though. Absu release the kind of timeless records that you just have to put your trust in. Put it in the stereo and just let it take effect. Great for the car, and needless to say great for killing pedestrians with your car. It may take some time, but the oddball shit they throw at you eventually becomes catchier than the HIV on one of Nikki Sixx’s syringes. Proscriptor’s Black Metal vocals are some of the best in the league and his drumming ain’t too shabby either. No particular song tends to stand out as of press time, save for maybe leadoff track “Earth Ripper,” with its bestial Black/Thrash feel and aforementioned King D shriekage. But rest assured, in a month’s time I’ll even be able to recite 14-minute epic, “A Song for Ea,” backwards. That’s just how Absu roll.

This album is actually a lot better than I expected it to be. That isn’t to disrespect the band or their ability, but when most of the reviews I’ve seen seem to center on how hot the reviewer thinks Doris Yeh (Chthonic’s bass player) is, I’m always skeptical. Yes, she is hot. But this isn’t a video, so unless you have a really good imagination (and you’re willing to fap to Black Metal), you have to judge this band on their songwriting skills. And these folks know how to kick some serious ass. Chthonic was always very similar to Cradle of Filth in terms of sound and style: atmospheric/symphonic Black Metal with a lot of soundtrack elements. Unlike Cradle of Filth, though, Chthonic doesn’t dwell on the Goth imagery, darkly romantic lyricism or high-pitched banshee wailing vocals. Takasago Army is a concept album surrounding the native Taiwanese soldiers that fought against the Americans as part of the Japanese Imperial Army during the last part of World War II, and ultimately met their demise in a final stand against Chiang Kai-shek’s invading army (when the nationalist Chinese invaded Taiwan/Formosa after being driven out of China by Mao Tse-tung). The Takasago Army had a fearsome reputation and their skills on the battlefield were so great that they won the respect and admiration of their Japanese commanders. That being said, the lyrics are about real horror and brutality, not fantasy shit. As part of the album’s inlay, you get the story of Wubus Bawan, a member of the Takasago Army. It made quite an interesting read as I listened to the album. In fact, I think for these songs to make sense, you have to read the story of Wabus Bawan first and then read the lyrics. While the music on Takasago Army is primarily guitar driven, the keyboards and the traditional Chinese instruments added a lot to this album’s depth, and provide a distinctly “Asian” feel. It had the same atmosphere and epic feeling as the soundtrack for Hero or House of Flying Daggers. For an album like this, the epic sound is pretty necessary. When you have a story about war, the aftermath of the war and then the ultimate demise of the soldiers in a final stand against a new invading army, you really can’t short-sell it without doing the story a serious injustice. I really couldn’t find anything that I’d deduct points over. The songs are well played, well written and the whole album is solid from beginning to end. Takasago Army is getting a lot of plays in my stereo.

Fuck my life, what a horrible year for Death Metal. David Vincent started rapping on Morbid Angel albums, Pestilence, Decapitated, and countless other scene pillars laid eggs, we lost legends and potential future legends, and the only review I’ve written in the 17 years I’ve been doing this that anyone gives a rat’s dick about is a tenth rate Sludge band using riffs Iron Monkey threw out in 1996 because they sounded too contrived. Now I have to deal with Mikael Akerfeldt sonically coping with his impotence. Before I start doing something I never wanted to do, I want to make two facts clear. First off, I think Akerfeldt has the best Death Metal vocals ever. At least in the studio, he has no equal. Second, my favorite Opeth album of all time is 2003’s Damnation, an album with no Death Metal vocals. Why bring up these two contradictory points? Because Heritage contains no Death Metal vocals, and while I do think it’s a little foolish to have a Bugatti Veyron that you only “drive slow on the driveway,” that’s not the reason I hate it. My friends warned me, “you won’t like the new Opeth, it’s total ’70s Prog.” So when I got it home, I threw it in the stereo and put it on “shuffle.” (You see, my trusty Sony boombox was previously owned by Aleister Crowley, so on a random shuffle it generally plays the best songs first.) “I Feel the Dark” was up first. My first thought - I didn’t realize how much Contemporary Christian music owes to the vocal presentation of “‘70s Prog.” No, the lyrics here are far from Christian, but turn on your local Jesus-fucking radio station and you’ll see a frightening similarity in vocal deliveries. Up next, “The Lines in My Hand.” Not really a suitable musical companion for the lines on my mirror. I guess I’m supposed to think it noble that the band used a series of orange peels and elongated paper clips to record this album, but the production isn’t the problem here, modern or not. The problem here is mind-numbing boredom. And amidst this musical sea of baby’s-ass softness, there is not a single moment of sadness or any other emotion for that matter. Try to make it through the excruciating 8 minutes of “Folklore” without your mind wandering once. You can’t do it. Sure there’s a lot of talent on display here (some of these drum patterns are downright insane), it is an Opeth record in that regard, but I’m a substance guy, and there isn’t a single track on Heritage that feels my pain. Overrated as they may be, I will always consider Opeth to be gods among men. I want Morningrise; My Arms, Your Hearse; Still Life; and Damnation right there among many others on my death bed. But Heritage is a career low for them. I would call it their Cold Lake, but “Cherry Orchards” and “Juices Like Wine” actually hit way harder than any of the drab swill found here.

Last year’s offering (II: The Reign of Darkness) from these UK bruisers saw the band shedding most of the Deathcore sound they started out with in favor of a more straightforward Death Metal stance. With this EP, all that is thrown to the wayside as the chugga-chugga breakdowns, stomping groove, and gang vocals return to the fray with a vengeance. This is perhaps even more Core than they were before. It’s not as though they ever really abandoned groove, but much of the technical proficiency has been stripped down to bareknuckle basement fury. These songs are decent. Heavy and catchy albeit seemingly thrown together with an undeniable dumbed-down-on-purpose vibe. I don’t want to complain too much, as these guys have the talent and the gusto to pull off just about any musical style they’d want to, I’d imagine, but consistency is quite a merit as well. It begs the question, are they changing styles to suit the critics? Is it due to the record labels involved? Death Metal for our Nuclear Blast full-lengths, Deathcore for this Siege of Amida stopgap EP? It ultimately comes down to, are they playing what’s in their hearts or just trying to score the biggest target audience? Maybe a severe case of ADD? It might just be the case that this EP is nothing more than throwaway tracks from previous recording sessions or maybe a collection of doctored up rejects from the drawing board trash can. This is exclusively available via digital download/iTunes, so in the purist hearts of (tangible) record collectors such as myself, this only exists in theory anyway. All this fuss about the fence-jumping could be over nothing. Or maybe they just wanted to accomplish what they have undoubtedly stirred up in the mind yours truly… now I am morbidly curious to hear what their next album will sound like.

I was equally as disappointed to learn that vocalist Matti Way (ex-Disgorge) was no longer in this band as I was pleasantly surprised discovering his replacement was none other than Jonathan Huber, the ex-frontman for granite-heavy Deathcore merchants I Declare War. He is a more than suitable replacement and that becomes evident from the get-go, as leadoff cut “Dissected by Righteousness” features vokills so ridiculously guttural they often resemble stomach farts. You know, when you hold a fart in too long and your stomach reacts with some kind of inverted, gaseous bubbling? I think George Carlin called it, “bor-bor-rig-me.” This Cali Death troupe have come a long way from their humble beginnings, as the music on their earliest releases sounded like stomach farts as well. Core founding members Dave Astor and Tim Tiszczenko write real riffs now and pretty damn good ones at that. With a new vocalist comes new lyrical focus, as the subject matter has switched from anti-religion, conspiracy theories, aliens and whatever the fuck Matti was talking about on Legacy of the Ancients, to a more environmentally aware, save-the-Earth, humanity-is-shit outlook via Huber. As if you could tell what either of these sick fuckers is saying anyway. This is a ferociously brutal album that proudly features actual songwriting skill and otherworldly guttural lung abuse. And that’s all it needs to be to get the job done.