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

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

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

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

I’m not going to waste a lot of time beating around the bush here. Sweden’s Demonical is the ultimate in New Wave of Old School Swedish Death Metal. I admit, I’m a sucker for the style and I like nearly every band doing it right now, but Demonical is the true prize, the absolute cream of the crop. Being comprised of ex and current members of Centinex, Interment, and Grave among others certainly doesn’t hurt anything, but these guys can go toe-to-toe with anyone, past or present. The guitar sound? Pure Sunlight, modernized for maximum intensity, and force-fed steroids in between cocaine breaks. The vocals? Imagine a cyborg programmed to sound like David Vincent and Ola Lindgren in their early ’90s primes, now force-feed it steroids in between cocaine breaks. Everything about this band is everything Swedish Death Metal should be. If you don’t own this and the equally flawless Hellsworn, you need to commit suicide immediately. They even do a Swedeath cover of Emperor’s “Night of the Graveless Souls” [apparently that’s only on the Limited Edition version - Editor] and fucking nail it! I wish I could give this album a 20.

Far be it from me to say anything negative about these Godz among men, but I’d be lying if said I wasn’t a little disappointed with this first-ever Bloodbath DVD (not counting the CD/DVD release, The Wacken Carnage, of course). Let’s start with what’s right with it. First off, it should go without saying that Bloodbath have been the greatest Death Metal band in the world for the last decade. No shock considering they contain two vital members of the greatest band in the world, period. The packaging for this is amazing, possibly the best I’ve ever seen. It’s like a fucking book! Why can’t all DVDs look like this? The interview, although a bit long and a tad redundant, and the video for “Hades Rising” -in addition to the previously stated facts- are probably worth the price alone. The concert footage looks phenomenal, very well filmed indeed, and the band is musically tight as fuck. as we’d have to expect. The only hindrance, and unfortunately it’s a big one, is Mikael Akerfeldt’s voice. Now, I’ve gone on record a few times saying this is the best vocalist in Death Metal, and I don’t take it back for a second, but he is obviously ill, or hoarse, or tired, or perhaps all three. His voice quite frankly sounds like shit. He sounds like a poor man’s Barney Greenway for fuck’s sake! Now, there is a bonus gig from the 2008 PartySan Festival where he is in much better form, but that’s a much shorter set-list with quite a few favorites missing. And going back to Bloodstock, where the fuck is “Hades Rising”? [Or “Bastard Son of God”? -Editor] I guess I’ve just come to expect absolute perfection from these guys, and let it be known that even when they come up a little short, it’s still better than most could achieve at 100%. Flaws intact, this is essential viewing.

2011 seems to be staking its claim as the year of the raw Black Metal revival. Finland’s Totalselfhatred (featuring ex-members of Horna and Pest among countless others) deliver their second full-length album of depressive, suicidal Black Metal; their first for Osmose Productions. The first three tracks tear straight into the heart. “Apocalypse,” “At War with Myself,” and “Teardrop Into Eternity” explode with a bleak, almost Crust-like sense of urgency and angst. Bitter melody and tortured vocals capture a sense of pure despair. Unfortunately as good as the first three songs are, the last four cuts are forgettable by comparison. Not bad, just not memorable. Overall, the sextet have a solid melancholy foundation and incorporate other stylistic elements into their Black Metal assault very well. My only advice to them would be to listen to Katatonia’s Jhva Elohim Meth… the Revival EP about 666 times a day. That ought to iron out what few flaws they have.

Presented to the rest of the world on Sepulchral Voice Records, this is the American version of this deadly German band’s second full-length album. While integrating more other sounds in the “Temple” and “Gate” interludes than Triune Impurity Rites, the pipe organs and ambient passages only add to their ancient Death Metal ritual. For instance, “Gate II” wholly conjures Trial of the Bow. The vocal delivery, reminiscent of Sadistic Intent or Infamy (L.A., CA), is perfectly mixed with memorable riffs and drumming. A shining example is the percussion at the end of “Necromantique Nun” which hints of Pete Sandoval’s “Hymnos Rituales de Guerra” from Morbid Angel’s Formulas Fatal to the Flesh. It’s the cumulative effect of both the Non-Metal and Metal elements that will earn this a spot on my Best Albums of 2011 list.

Justin Broadrick’s Jesu are one of those strange anomalies, a band that have never written a bad song. Sure some are better than others, but factor in 16 recordings over the span of seven years, and the fact becomes even more amazing. Before I get into Ascension, I want to thank JK and Hydra Head for re-releasing the majestic debut Heart Ache last year. Fan of Jesu or not, this is absolutely essential listening. I couldn’t tell you how many nights I’ve stumbled in the door drunk at 3am and listened to the epic 20-minute title track on repeat in the dark alone, “…but really there’s nothing…” echoing over and over in my mind long after I’ve passed out. But on to the present, Ascension is like every other Jesu piece, similar but unique. Nine songs of slow-but-steady mournful hymns plus an outro. Just imagine the heaviest, darkest Pop music you can. I know it sounds crazy, but Broadrick himself had essentially stated something similar in a quote I once read. Unlike some of his releases in the past, no particular song jumps out as a standout track, but the album flows so well and the vibe achieved is a stunning mix of equal parts depressing and soothing. Not all doom and gloom, mind you, but it’s the uplifting passages I seem to find the most morose for some odd reason. Mixed with the death of a loved one, this album could potentially be fatal, which pretty much goes for the entire Jesu catalog while I’m at it. I’ve heard many a drunken Godflesh vs. Jesu argument before. They actually can become quite heated. As monumental and groundbreaking as Streetcleaner was, I think it’s a no-brainer that Jesu is the hands down winner by a longshot. Ascension is another brilliantly recorded testament to that verdict. This is pure emotion.

There are few surer bets than what you’re going to get on a Hate Eternal record. First and foremost, you know the production is going to suck. Secondly, it’s going to have horrible musicianship with really slow drums. And worst of all, pro-Jesus lyrics with Bryan Adams-style vocals. That’s called sarcasm. I had to make this review interesting somehow. Who even needs a review with this band, honestly? It’s going to be pretty much the opposite of what I previously stated (that’s how sarcasm works). Immaculate production, obviously, considering the North American answer to Peter Tagtgren is the driving force behind this band. Rapid fire machine gun drumming featuring T.W.A. (Triggers with Attitudes). Whirlwind guitars with tsunami distortion playing tornado riffs at hurricane speeds for a monsoon’s worth of destructive power. Let’s not forget, Rutan did hone his chops alongside Trey Azagthoth in the legendary Morbid Angel. “The Eternal Ruler” kicks thing off with Behemoth style sweeps that set the tone for a mind-bending endurance test of an album. The playing that begins “The Art of Redemption” actually detached both of my retinas. Are these songs all that memorable? Not really. Maybe so, for as brutal as they are, but the real quality of the album is its feel. It’s just got that vibe of crushing, frenzied heaviness you miss when it’s over. And everything else seems so mild in its wake.

The “circle” relating to the album’s title must be a male anus. I seem to remember giving a small percentage of a fuck about this band’s sophomore album, 2003’s Mirror of Madness, but they were an actual Metal band back then. This album is a pure homosexual orgy. The deluxe edition comes with extra tracks and a mason jar full of midget semen. This band sounds like Warrant now, but only the ballads. Each song is about loving a man’s butthole. They are probably trying to capitalize on the success of fellow Finnish gaylords Children of Boredom by taking all elements of Death Metal and Thrash out of their sound and replacing it with a mangina. Riffs that beg to have men shit on their chests during felching. Catch them on tour soon with Liberace, Ricky Martin, Lance Bass, Freddie Mercury, Rob Halford, and those faggot lion tamers.

Former Immortal founding member Demonaz Doom Occulta graces us with his first ever solo affair. For those unfamiliar, Demonaz played guitar for the blizzard beasts up until 1997 when tendinitis ended his axe-grinding days. Since then he has been a lyricist, muse, and all around cheerleader for the band, even going out on tour with them. Now he has recruited former Immortal drummer Armagedda and Enslaved’s Ice Dale (guitars/bass) to finally bring us the long-awaited March of the Norse. As much as I want to get behind this release, it just falls flat. As far as riffs go, it’s basically Diet Immortal from the At the Heart of Winter era, or I Lite, while lyrically it owes much to Bathory when Big Q made the switch from Satan to Odin. But it’s neither the music or lyrics that ruin the record; it’s Demonaz’ horrible voice. He kinda sounds like the dude from Ratt, except not really even that abrasive. Maybe Dee Snider doing Manowar songs? I don’t know. It’s pretty gay though. Imagine Abbath’s voice with all of the bite, gravel and serpentine hiss sucked out of it. Man, nature must really have it in for this dude. Better stick to writing awesome lyrics and blowing fire in the mountains (not to mention helping fuck the hot groupie sluts).

You know, I really want to like this band. I really do. I mean, they are cute Japanese girls that like Hellhammer and Burzum! Where I’m from, finding that is pretty much the equivalent to finding a bag with a million dollars in it on your front porch. I want to like them, but I just can’t. The fact is, their music is pure shit. No talent slop. I hate to say it, but if these were dudes, they wouldn’t be on Peaceville, they’d be on Hell’s Headbangers. No front covers on Terrorizer and Zero Tolerance, maybe a quarter page ad in I Hate You Motherfucker. I tried hard to give this new album a chance, figuring since they are a 2-piece now they’d bid farewell to the weakest link. But they’re just as terrible as ever. Sloppy, badly produced one-chord Sludge with awful vocals. Making it through the sadistically torturous length of this album should win you a date with the lead singer.

When it comes to Metalcore, the Germans don’t give a fuck. They didn’t start doing it just because it was cool to, and they’re not going to stop doing it just because it isn’t cool anymore. Some would say they are the best at it and I have a hard time arguing that whenever I’m in the midst of an album like the new Six Reasons to Kill. Somehow it’s been eleven years since I last heard anything from these guys, but Architects of Perfection essentially picks up right where the impressive 2000 debut Kiss the Demon left off. It has everything a German Metalcore album should. The abrasive harshness and unrefined passion of Heaven Shall Burn, the brutal beatdowns of early Maroon, and the depressive melodies that bring back memories of a beautiful time when everyone was trying to out-sad Poison the Well. The clean vocals on “My Poison” threw me at first, but now it’s my favorite cut. It’s a pure anthem once you give it a chance. I can think of a lot more reasons to kill than six, but I couldn’t name you a better Metalcore album in 2011 so far.

It’s sad when bands just won’t go away. Two things I’ve never seen is a UFO and a person who gave a shit about Scar Symmetry. No disrespect to Roberth Karlsson; the man is a legend in the Swedish Death Metal scene and his resume speaks for itself. It’s not his fault that this album is muff cabbage. It’s the clean vocals of Lars Palmqvist that turns this into the kind of Metal that you’d hear in the opening/closing credits of a Saturday morning Anime cartoon. Throw in pure nonsense lyrics and melodies completely void of any trace of sadness and you have an album no one needs. Listen to Facebreaker instead.

The opening track, “Gravedigger Sacrifice,” is all that’s needed to guarantee a high rating for this NWOSDM band. The short intro of a shovel being pushed into the earth on a stormy night then the teeth spilling on the tombstone as the hand from the grave pulls you down musical assault that follows is brilliant. While the tempo of the nine tracks that follow doesn’t quite mirror the intensity of the opener (some songs have a doomier feel) Maim’s ability to craft classic sounding Swedish Death Metal, with genuine homage to the forefathers, is undeniable.

Holy fuck, what a team-up! Long have I been yearning for Haemorrhage’s forthcoming album, Hospital Carnage, and just when I thought that I could wait no longer to hear the Goregrind masters’ new O-Pus, I discovered this split with Mexico’s supreme sickos, Disgorge. It’s a depraved, diseased dream come true! At only 22 gore-soaked minutes, Morgue Metal is a quickie to be sure, but both bands deliver utterly devastating brand-new tracks (3 for Haemorrhage and 4 for Disgorge), and there is not a flaw to be found amid this memorable brutality. Obviously both groups worship Carcass, but have long since evolved unique sonic identities, following divergent paths, and the contrast of their styles and productions somehow works perfectly here, making this one of the greatest splits of all time.

One-man bands don’t often work out very well, because the lone artist has to be able to do literally everything himself. Even the very best songwriters can benefit from collaboration. So, with this in mind, Necronoclast’s Greg Edwards had an uphill battle from the very start, but he has had some time to practice, with three other full-length albums under his belt before Ashes. I do wish that over the years Greg would have realized that the more atmospheric parts of his compositions are the strongest, and in fact can be very impressive. Despite a well-programmed drum machine (no easy task in and of itself), the faster bits of the songs often seem more generically raw Black Metal, and lose quite a bit of the ominous, sorrowful feeling possessed by the slower segments. The title track is perhaps the best blend of speed and atmosphere. Greg’s throat-annihilating vocals are absolutely anguished and work perfectly with the music. Still, Ashes took a few spins (or whatever the fuck ones does with mp3s) for me to digest, and it could easily have been a mess without this imposing production gluing everything together in a way both raw and still somehow clear. As a side note, I think that this is cover-artist Gabriel Byrne’s best painting so far.

I have really been looking forward to this release, and hearing last month’s pre-album “teaser” EP, Leatherhead, only made me more impatient for it. I’m a huge fan of U.D.O. main-man Udo “Bastard!!” Dirkschneider, and his old band, Accept, and have been since I was a kid, listening to I’m a Rebel and Breaker. Rev-Raptor, which is apparently named after a toy robotic dinosaur, is every bit as good as I was expecting it to be. Some people -assholes, I call them- might not like how… let’s say, consistent, Udo’s music always is. But the man with the metal heart knows to not fuck up a good thing, and this means that you can always count on him to deliver memorable Metal. In fact, just try to not sing along with “Leatherhead” or the amazing “Fairy Tales of Victory” (which is probably the best song on an album chock-full of ass-kickery)! One listen and you’ll be banging your head and singing along with Udo! And that brings me to the only real flaw I can find with Rev-Raptor: You don’t get all the songs on the regular jewel-case CD. The digipak version has two bonus tracks, plus two videos (“Leatherhead” and “I Give As Good As I Get”). The Japanese version has two different bonus tracks. (There is a super-limited edition version, too, which has the digipak version in it, but even then you still don’t get the Japanese bonus tracks.) If “I Give As Good As I Get” is released as a single, or EP, as “Leatherhead” was, perhaps it will have the Japan-only tracks on there, but I’m not holding my breath for that. So, those of us who care are left with the option of not having all the songs, or tracking down not only the digipak version, since the US is, of course, only getting the stripped-down jewel-case edition, but also somehow the Japanese version. That feels suspiciously like AFM is fucking me with no lube, and I didn’t even get dinner first! I’m sure that it’s not Dirkschneider’s fault, but it’s still frustrating, and that’s exactly what I don’t need when listening to music I like. I wanted to give this album much closer to a 10, but holy hell, the band recorded 17 songs and I’ve only heard 13 of them. I’m missing about a quarter of the music, and the rating reflects it. By the way, AFM, and all other record labels out there, if you ever wonder why people illegally download your releases, it’s in part due to not wanting to buy multiple versions of the same album just to get all the songs.

Mitochondrion hail from Vancouver, British Columbia and have ties to the Ross Bay cemetery. Unlike their Cult brethren, they play monumental Death Metal steeped in the musical philosophy espoused by Ross Dolan of Immolation. However, their wall of sound is inoculated with the foreboding atmosphere reminiscent of Disembowelment. The growth that results is an atypical album within the Canadian Death Metal scene, yet containing all the required components: guttural vocals, thick technical riffs, and blast beats that rival “old” Cryptopsy and Katalysm. What makes it unique is how the dueling vocals are infused with the instrumentation, augmenting the tempo changes, coupled with the lyrics that forsake this mortal coil. Complimented by a massive booklet with occult artwork, this is one release you must own. The impact that Disembowelment’s Transcendence into the Peripheral had almost two decades ago has finally been replicated by Parasignosis.