I wonder if, when people come together to form a band in that hopeful beginning when dreams of having worldwide fans run wild, if the general consensus is to be generic. But, like, the best damn generic (fill in the blank) band there ever was. And to be excited about it.

And although every genre has the talented dopplegangers, power metal seems to be the most susceptible. The example du jour: Magic Kingdom. From top to bottom, from band name to cover art to song structure, this band makes every effort possible to not stand out from the genre in the least.

But there’s generic, and then there’s good generic. Magic Kingdom is definitely the latter. With a sound that is Rhapsody and Stratovarius, with some riffs nearly entirely lifted from these and other major bands of the style, Magic Kingdom manages to pull off a European-styled melodic metal ride that is not bereft or fun twists and turns.

And true to form of the power metal clones, Magic Kingdom have great musicianship to play the standard Baroque-played-as-metal solos and held-out chord verse riffs. The singer’s not too bad, either, but he isn’t convincing anyone he actually means any of the lyrics he sings about flying pyramids.

Within their own work, Magic Kingdom probably should have cut out the last track, the entirely too long "Metallic Tragedy." It suffers from two major flaws (aside from being too long).

- the saccharine, bass drum-laden music from the previous nine tracks is incongruous with the now forced "tragic" airs of this 13+ minute song.

- yet another misguided attempt by a power metal band to try to inject some fierceness (or legitimacy?) into their sound by including rough vocals, which invariably have the very opposite effect as they’re produced in exactly the same way as the rest of the record’s candy-coated sounds. C’mon, now. If your sound is all about being wimpy, then embrace it.

But we don’t want to be all down on Magic Kingdom. It can be good fun, but the audience is limited to rabid enthusiasts of the genre ONLY. For them, there cannot be enough of charging, classically-inspired melodic metal done ad nauseaum. And if you know what you like, what’s wrong with that? (6.3/10)

Having only recently been introduced to the works of Xasthur, I shall not attempt to compare Telepathic With the Deceased to their previous recordings. After a few listens, I would have to say that it is, by and large, and exceptional piece of work. Inhuman, harsh, and wonderfully atmospheric black metal, yet another jewel in the crown of the underground.

The cold, raw guitar sound gives voice to torment in tracks such as "Abysmal Depths Are Flooded" and "Cursed Revelations," as do the horrific death throes of Malefic. "May Your Void Become as Deep as My Hate" is both tortured and majestic, like a cry from the pits of despair. From a purely personal standpoint, I would suggest that any Nargaroth fans who are thus far unacquainted with Xasthur try this album for size. The darkness within the music is unique, and I would imagine that there have been many different reactions to it – pain, sorrow, adrenaline, euphoria, hatred, or possibly the soundtrack to your greatest fears. I myself will now be delving into their past releases, simply on the strength of this one. (8.9/10)

There are few bands in this world who can boast the same grandeur as Falkenbach. More that just music, their work is strengthened by feeling set within the folk-influenced black metal sound. The production may have been somewhat cleaned up around the edges since 1998's Magni Blandinn Ok Megintin, but the spirit has endured. Just epic in its own way, Ok Nefna Tysvar Ty is nothing short of magnificent. The passages of black metal vocals are fewer than before, but the songs are no less effective that the previous two albums.

Vratyus Vakyus has done a superb job of composition and arrangement, this time collaborating with members of Vindsval to produce a truly remarkable series of epic Viking metal songs. The additional clean vocals of Tyrann provide another layer to the sound which reminds me of early Ulver.

"...The Ardent Awaited Land.."' is an absolutely beautiful piece that takes a step back from the metal elements and simply weaves acoustic guitar tracks with vocal harmonies. Closing track "Farewell" is one of the finest Falkenbach songs I have ever heard, and indeed Ok Nefna... could well be considered their finest album, depending on what particular aspects interest you. (9/10)

Though it is still well constructed, I can find little appeal in Vintersorg's music. The Focusing Blur has sent them farther along the Opeth trail, with touches of Peccatum and Anathema on the way. Style abounds, but the substance is severely lacking. The sections of blasting with lacklustre black metal vocals are like their final grasp on the fringes of extreme metal. What with passages of lounge jazz and soulful, clean guitar breaks, I get the feeling that their next offering will be about as heavyweight as Anathema's Judgement.

That's not to say that this album isn't brimming with artistic flair. The diversity and complexity on offer is remarkable, and the lyrical topics can be somewhat baffling at times. Unfortunately, there is nothing really memorable to hold on to through the length of the album, and if any crowd is ever found to be singing along to "A Microscopical Macrocosm" or "Dark Matter Mystery - Blackbody Spectrum," then I could only assume that Vintersorg had been booked to play at a Stephen Hawking Lecture.

"Curtains" is musically the strangest of all the tracks, with its honky tonk piano interludes. I don't think the eccentricities of this material could be compared to the work of any other band, but there are more elements required than exceptional musicianship and complex ideas. As it is, it’s not very inspiring. (5.5/10)

Vehemence are very much for the Gardenian, Arch Enemy and Disbelief crowds. This pensive and occasionally melodic death metal band have already raised many eyebrows and sent much hair flying, and from the sounds of it will continue to do so in the future.

I wouldn't describe Helping the World to See as a stunning album, but it has many charms. The riffing is superb and focused, complimented perfectly by the rhythm section. Perhaps Nathan Gearhart's vocals should have been clearer in the mix, but in general it works very well.

Among the more impressive tracks on the album are "You Don't Have to Be Afraid Anymore" and "Spirit of the Soldier," but I wouldn't say there are any weak tracks to speak of. The musicianship is simply faultless and overall, I'd say it's a fucking solid death metal album. What more can really be said? (7.5/10)

Carrying on a grand tradition of American heavy metal, Leash Law are true veterans of the scene between them. At some point, I’m sure they have been slapped with the "power metal" label, but time has come to take a closer look. One quick spin of Dogface and I heard the meshed influences of Iron Maiden, Megadeth, latter-day Judas Priest, Primal Fear, and Iced Earth. Which I think paints the picture pretty well.

If you're in the right mood, Leash Law can pack quite a punch. There is considerable talent on display, and the variation is such that practically every track will hold your interest. By the time I was four tracks through, all I could think was how there needs to be more bands like this.

The only major criticism I would make is that the vocal melodies could do with some work. There are occasions when the voice of Wade Black (Crimson Glory, Seven Witches) seems to stoop to randomly pitched squawking. Don't get me wrong, the guy can sing , it's just something they should bear in mind for next time.

The riffs and soloing throughout, courtesy of guitarists Rick Renstrom (Rob Rock) and Emo Mowery (Nocturnus) are phoenominal, lying perfectly atop the powerhouse drumming of Death/Iced Earth man Richard Christy.

"Hail to Blood" is a real headbanger that sets the pulse racing with a nice, classic sound. Other stand-out songs include"'Better When Betrayed" and "Martial Law." Anything else that could be commented upon is for you to find out for yourselves...(8.4/10)

Everything I had ever read about Ancient pointed to the notion that the band blew, big time. Well, more specifically, their first demos and debut album were good, but then it was all downhill from there... and fast. It all turned out to be true when seeing this most comical of all the bands coming out of Norway that call themselves "black metal," take the stage at Wacken 2000. I don’t know what was worse, the music, or the posing, or the presence of a sloppy, strumpet-looking woman whose only apparent role was as window dressing.

Hold everything. The new Ancient album, Night Visit, is really, really good! No, seriously, it rocks. Stylistically, if Old Man’s Child’s In Defiance of Existence is about halfway between Dimmu Borgir’s Puritanical Euphoric Misanthropia and a "new" Immortal record, then Night Visit is about half way between Old Man’s Child and Immortal, but the cartoon version. And that’s cool. Enjoy it for what it is.

What’s the key to the success? Who knows? But it may be in no small part to the departure of that particular woman, who took with her almost all the "goth" wankery. Now, there still is a hint of this, on the first track, but the female voice over is minimal and in the background.

But the story is the songs, which rip and don’t become redundant. The vocals are kinda goofy, but the drums are polished but sound cool, the riffs are good fun, and Night Visit is pretty damn enjoyable. Were Ancient always this good? (7.1/10)

The name says it all. "Cans." Not the most impressive name for a metal band by a long shot. You could pick from images of aluminum receptacles at a grocery store, or tired servants to target practice lined up on a wooden fence. Sure, power metal fans will figure out it’s a solo album named after Joacim Cans, the singer for Hammerfall. And while such a surname is ok in everyday life, or even in the liner notes of the album of a band by a different name, as the name of a band that sings in English, it’s just weak any way you look at it. Even "Joacim" would be better.

It’s for the best, as the greatest thing Beyond the Gates has going for it is the star status of its singer. The album is as generic as a metal album can be, which is largely the case with the solo projects of singers from notable heavy metal bands (a big exception that springs to mind: Bruce Dickinson).

If you’re a singer, naming a side-project band after yourself generally signals that you want the music to be all about your singing. And that’s fair. But neglecting to write any palatable music to go along with it is perhaps less than fair for the consumer. And as far as we’re concerned, the Cans record has no music in the form of anything resembling a memorable riff. Instead, Cans the band resorts to the tried and true held out chord or generic, two-note fast strum to provide the musical underpinning.

See, it’s much, much easier to sing on top of music that is practically just sitting there. You’ll hear most power metal bands do this: the riffs that you remember will be the ones played with no vocals; and when the vocals come back, it’s the return to the held-out chords. Then solos, which are generally also over generic metal riffing... it’s easier to solo on top of vanilla, too.

Contrast this with bands like Jag Panzer or Helstar or Dream Theater, whose vocals aren’t always catchy or even have a terribly coherent melodic sense to them, but consider what the singers are trying to sing over.

So I guess it matters what you want. You want to hear vocals and don’t care about the music? Then Beyond the Gates may be ok for you. But also consider that even vocally, and especially lyrically, the Cans record doesn’t seem to be making any effort at all, being content with rehashing rhymes and generic lyrical phrases about storms and dragons and whatnot. Really, any way you look at it, Beyond the Gates comes across as a terribly thrown together, afterthought record, albeit one played by stellar musicians and with a very good singer. (5/10)

This band might be "hatched" by the management company but they seriously rock! There is definitely something to be said for the connections and expertise in a management company that has the resources available to craft a market-driven vision.

They "discovered" a local NYC (or is it Long Island?) singer who has "the voice" and the stage presence, and proceeded to put the band together. (Never mentioned by name, I wonder if Idol Roc is keeping the singer and line-up’s identity their little secret?) I would be willing to bet there was some pretty demanding nurturing going on there.

Congratulations for sticking it out! A year and a half later the band has been deemed ready for the public. The concept seems romantically awkward for a rock and roll band’s beginning – but when music like this comes out the other end you just gotta relinquish. Revelation Theory’s hard driving performance on this six-song EP is nothing short of remarkable. Each song is a hit, ready to sing from a mountaintop or a stadium stage. The recording, mix and arrangements are brilliant! The voice and the instrumental parts are very dynamic and fused into simple, powerful songs with great titles.

So, Revelation Theory, who are YOU? I know who your lawyers are but I want to see YOU. Aptly and interestingly named, the CD comes to me demo style, without packaging or a photograph for me to sink my teeth into. I’m sure Idol Roc has a plan – and I do wager to bet it will be good.

I would travel to see this band play and I can be a freak about traffic. Better yet, I’ll fly out to take pictures – that way the parking won’t be an issue. Contact Maelstrom for Nikita. (8.5/10)

Amercian Duo Nova Lex produce an unusual blend of Metal (at times extreme), with electronic dance music. Such an odd merge may sound unfounded, baseless, preposterous even. Well, it kinda is.

Problem is, Nova Lex does not achieve a genuine synthesis between the two genres. The framework is conspicuously of the synthesized techno or trance sort. The progression of phrases is extremely linear and enclosed. The muted riffing guitars, as well as the growling vocals, seem to play the role of an alternative beat or sampler. Any kid who has ever played a bit with any computer-based recording software like Cubase, won't be able to help hearing the mental echoing of the digitized metronome playing in the background.

Everything in <Resurgenic> is square, neat and settled. While in the right measure, this could have been considered a positive trait of clever construction - in this case, when incorporated with an exaggeratedly thin and crisp sound - any original artistic idea is filtered by the wiping electro-feel. There is not much left to do other than joyously caper and cavort to the festive beat. Not that I did. Honest.

So, the interesting collision of approaches is never reached. The metal parts are mostly deathy/thrash sounding riffs, at times interesting and somehow innovative, at others not. The growling vocals are standard. The melodic ones often sound too similar to those of commercialized, post-death metal bands of late.

Now, the tragic thing about Nova Lex is that they actually seem to take themselves seriously. And they obviously do have the potential, be it in the shape of willingness to innovate, or an occasional creative approach to composition, and finely crafted instrumental skills. However, their obscure stylistic pretension inevitably wraps the jester's hat upon their head jester's hat.

But still, although the deserved criticism, one has to keep in mind that the music of Nova Lex, even if problematic, is still undefiably unique. And bizzare. And has some hilarious hooks and gimmicks to it. And therefore, surely as entertaining as any metal release may be. And as any disco release may be. And I hear the band sells the CD for only $5 or so. So maybe you should check it out after all. (5/10)

editor’s note: When communing with the forces of the universe, Tom can be overwhelmingly analytical. So in the best interests of the erudite and dilettante alike, we developed a system we call The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.

The Good:

- Peccatum has created a magical album, one that feels unified and coherent.

- the feeling of wholeness comes from how all the compositions originate from the same source

The Bad:

- not much to mention.

The Ugly:

- no more Emperor records, but probably more Peccatum records (says Roberto)

The Review:

Although at times rather distinctive and directional in its musical nature, the essential epitome of Peccatum's latest release is in its accumulative, atmospheric effect. By laying an intertwining of alternating, adjoining concrete musical ideas, the band manages to generate a magical synthesis, producing an artifact of complete unity and absolute coherence, embedded with enormous potential for a pure artistic experience.

The music on Lost in Reverie is composed of varying piano and orchestrated melodic lines and atmospheric sound layers. These draw a ponderous background to the distant yet emotive female vocals, expressing lyrics of poetic self-absorption, aware of its inherent despair yet ensconcing a sense of fragile, understated catharsis. At times, the calm, moody parts are replaced by fragments of thudding, distinctively distorted guitar phrases and raging drumming – which, while adding notable elements of aggression, still clearly maintain an overall feeling of surreal, enchanted, cleansed sterility.

However, the merit of Lost in Reverie is not to be found in its tangible, analyzable musical contents: the album delivers an atmosphere of an unmediated wholeness. Apparently, all of its different (and supposedly unrelated) compositions stem from the same essential source, inevitably reflecting the same muted longing of a screened, isolated stream of emotions, hopelessly craving for its lost, and currently unobtainable, source of authentic being. While not bearing any especially interesting elements to pinpoint (besides, perhaps, the high quality, innovative, at times even experimental production work), it allows the listener to undergo the rare experience of the absorption of a single driving state of mind, a total unity. While not being of an unusual atmospheric musical style (as of the ambient family), here, the experience of wholeness is derived from specific, stated musical sentences that almost parallels alchemy. Thus, one is to fascinatingly, knowingly experience multiple levels of musical existence, simultaneously: the more usual one of separate pieces, and the underlying, encompassing one.

Lest we forget to mention, the different layers are organized in a certain hierarchy: the concrete ones are subsidiary to the overall, atmospheric aspect. Hence, allowed an overwhelming simultaneous experience of clear directionality and significant engulfing ambience, one which is only to be found on most intriguing, rare pieces of music. This surely is an album to be withheld. (8.5/10)

Therion's promotional version of their two new albums (released simultaneously), doesn't feature both of the complete pieces. Instead, it includes a partial demonstration of the contents of each: six tracks from Lemuria, seven from Sirius B. Thus, Therion (or Nuclear Blast, or both – Roberto) disregard and contempt the essence of their artistic expression. Assuming that a reviewer may settle with merely half of the work in order to realize its full significance, testifies of a shallow, dull approach regarding the core of artistic creation (or a notion of album piracy – Roberto again).

Unsurprisingly, this state of mind is easily noticeable in the band's musical creation as well. Therion boast the fact of involving over 170 musicians in the recording of these two albums. This is their main source of pride. And indeed, the production is nothing short of superb. Involving a whole array classical parts in the form of lush orchestrations and dramatic, varied brands of operatic vocals, all professionally arranged and delivered, Therion provide a nearly unprecedented support to their metal-esque musical style. Surely, there is not much revival in this aspect of the band's creation: it seems that throughout their career,

especially since the mythic Theli album, the band have been justifying their existence and inclusion within the pantheon of leading artists of the world scene not as a result of their astonishing compositional or instrumental skills – which have always been rather banal and naive – but mostly due to the supplemental value of overwhelming production.

However, the band's unfortunate destiny has brought them to an era in which such efforts, although still impressive sounding, may no longer serve as a sole legitimation to the band's activity. Partially stemming from the precedents they have themselves set in the past, awsesome sound and arrangement appear today rather trivial, not sufficing to prevent criticism regarding the musical content itself.

So, while pretentiously putting their confidence in a good classical arranger and a pitifully high recording budget administered to them by the record company, Therion allow their artistic flatness to reveal itself. It sounds great. With violins and all. (1+1=2/10)

One of the most essential characteristics of drone is its absence of a clear, coherent, directional musical concept. Such music is to be judged by standards of sound texture, density, the establishment of an associative musical space – what we sometimes call ambiance or atmosphere. It is not a matter of a linear musical development – more of a fine additive to a narcotic experience.

In drone the listener has to be gradually absorbed in the recurring inaudible waves of the slender sonic vibe, to become growingly submerged in subtle frequencies. For such atmosphere to be achieved, a continuous effect is usually required. Unfortunately, being confronted with 10 different tracks, lasting together for just a little over an hour, one is probably bound to face difficulties in becoming properly submerged in the surroundings created by each. The displayed abstract miniatures are too brief to be fully engaging; a possible profound experience becomes too fleeting and ethereal.

Some of the more straight-forward parts do manage to stand out. For example, the opening enchanting layers produced by Ruhr Hunter, or the avant-garde, multi-channeled tangle generated by Scot Jenerik. Still, the overall feeling of the CD is that of a concept-less concept, which may function as a basic sampler or teaser – not much more than that. A full album by any of the featured artists would probably be more worthy of a joint. (5/10)

editor’s note: When communing with the forces of the universe, Tom can be overwhelmingly analytical. So in the best interests of the erudite and dilettante alike, we developed a system we call The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.

The Good:

- Scent of Flesh has made a respectable album for the genre that it’s in (US-style death metal).

- a sense of subtlety and nuance in the framework of the tried (tired) and true.

The Bad:

- no attempts at doing anything that hasn’t been done before countless times over the past 15 years.

The Ugly:

- the guitar tone

the review:

Scent of Flesh play old-School, slightly blackened, American-style death metal. As being affiliated to such a common, veteran, restrictive movement, the creation of the Finnish quintet totters on the edge of legitimacy. However, it seems that they do manage to reap at least a certain amount of it, even if only by a hairbreadth.

Taking upon themselves the task of delivering a musical output of a most hackneyed and corny genre, they are placed under a constant threat of helplessly delving into the gaping abyss of vacuous, tasteless banality. Devoutly maintaining the ideas of their originating tradition, they’ll have to strive in order to achieve a shard of unconventionality to justify their existence in the artistic discourse.

Indeed, the product of Scent of Flesh bears much of the symptoms of the sorrowfully omnipresent phenomenon of vacuous recycling: each of their pieces proudly features a seemingly endless sequence of familiarly changing rhythms, circular patterns of raging blast beats supporting voracious growls, only to be unsurprisingly cut by an insulated, muted guitar, which inevitably leads to the next cycle of greatly earnest, at times infantly ambitious vehemence. The riffs maintain faithfulness to the strict, genuine standards of past greats in the genre. No innovation in terms of harmony, melody or rhythm is in sight.

However, the band does manage to create a certain atmosphere that perhaps deviates from the bromide nature of uncountable, despicably similar efforts which has surfaced in the underground and "overground" metal scene in the past decade and half. This is probably due to the conceptual clash occurring between the insidious ambitions notable in the bands work, and their somehow modern, uniquely formed manner of actual implementation. Indeed, the intentions of producing a work of subversive nature is emphasized on various aspects of the band's creation: the aforementioned lack of creativity is adjoined by an organic, loosened performance of the supposedly tight riffs, imparting the recording with a feeling of a live performance. Also, the guitar sound is exceedingly thin and flat, allegedly implying a lo-fi work of limited, dull material.

Nevertheless, these are clearly not the actual terms under which the recording and production of Valor in Hatred occurred: many of the coordinated phrases, guitar part entries, panning effects and their resulting atmospheres, seem to be surprisingly accurate, preconceived and subtle, adding a facet of distinctive, typical timbre to the album.

The atmosphere in certain parts has surely not been generated by a miraculous incident taking place in the gutters of a neglected, lacking recording basement. The echoing bass on the background of distant, flat drumming; the tight guitar harmonies and timing; the dramatic, planned entries – all testify upon an equipped, planning mind to be involved in the albums creation.

So, while the contents superficially sound crude and basic, the underlying framework is realized to be evolved and deeply contemplated. This combination, even if not unprecedented and exceptional, does bestow Valor in Hatred with a distinctive quality, which surely may render it appealing to fans of the genre. (6/10)

There’s something comfortingly solid about the Drastique sound. Like a cleaner, vampiric version of Opera IX, they may not be the most brutal, harsh or intense of black metal acts, but the combination of nicely reverbed drums and barking vocals is quite effective. Drastique's music fills the gaps left by Abyssos, with some pile driver riffing that can get the rib cage rattling almost as well as the double bass drum attack. Putting aside the keyboard tracks, I can almost make out brief bursts of Immortal influence and simplified Peccatum. The thundering bass of this album is one of its most prominent features, as is the gorgeous guitar sound.

The techno drum sample that dictates the intro of "Perfect Nothing" is slightly off-putting, but in general, Pleasureligion is quite a solid album. The vocals of Fay remind me a little of those of Cadavaria (Opera IX), and the clean vocals of composer Chris Buchman I would compare to either Star Industry or 13 Candles. The gothic overtones are the one element I found to be disappointing, but I would still recommend this to the many. (7.4/10)

Draconian continue along the path of doom. This latest offering of theirs is a most commendable piece of heavy gothic metal. Despite the shades of early Anathema and Tristania, I believe Draconian have utterly trounced them both with the brilliance of Where Lovers Mourn. One thing that sets Draconian apart from the scores of other such bands is that the doomy death metal voice of Anders Jacobsson actually has some depth and body to it, as opposed to those who believe the male vocals can be mediocre so long as the token gothic female soars high in the mix. This lot have it all: well structured, well orchestrated songs that provide a much-needed dose of soul therapy. Imagine Opeth with more life to them.

There is something strange about the sound on this album. On many occasions, I caught myself listening to each instrument individually before they merged in my head. In short, every track is wonderfully clear and powerful, allowing the listener to absorb every emotion the music has to offer. That said, it is only to be expected that after eight years of paying dues until the release of this, their debut album, they would have learnt a fair number of things about production.

Though the entire album creates a very sombre mood, the songs themselves are quite beautiful. To be honest, Draconian now stand head and shoulders above the likes of Crematory and My Dying Bride in the gothic metal field. And as for Lacuna Coil, don't even get me started. Listen to ANY track on Where Lovers Mourn and you'll understand. (8.5/10)

Illogicist seem to have ways of keeping the listener interested. The death metal metal element has been influenced by the old school, sure enough, but the rhythmic changes put me in mind of Dream Theater, Rush and Meshuggah. Subjected has a very full-bodied sound, and after some of the material I've heard this month, it does a fucking good job of keeping me awake. (Ed’s note: it’s been a good month for Jez, but see if you can spot the snoozer review)

The Italian trio of Luca Minieri (guitars/vocals), Emilio Dattolo (bass) and Diego Ambrosi (guitars) are joined by session drummer Remy Curtaz for some pretty special chemistry. Perhaps it goes well against the grain of traditonal death metal – even more so than Death ever did – but it's a fine piece of work. "Dissonant Perspectives," for example, is not something I would so much headbang to as wonder at.

The title track is heavily Death influenced again, with a few nice jazzy bassline ideas thrown in. The drum tracks provide a very solid backbone for the music, and that is NOT an easy skeleton to hold together. "The Soul Feeder" would have to be my favourite track, as it happens to display a perfect balance of muscle and colour.

To cut a long story short, whether you have a penchant for death metal or progressive, this is the album you NEED to get your lugs around. (9/10)

The father, the son and the session musician. These are the three main factors that Lemmus Lemmus, a fresh-on-the-scene Israeli outfit (which performs in English), is made of.

Lemmus Lemmus, led by Joel Ron (the father, on guitars and effects), brings back lost sounds of late 60’s American and British psychedelia and melancholia, with influences from early Pink Floyd and the more bizarre "Tomorrow Never Knows"-Beatles, taken to a generally more reflective, depressing state.

"Retro-rock" is probably what you’re thinking – but, that’s a not a necessarily a bad tag. However, in this case it is also not a very suitable one, as Joel’s son, Eddie, brings a more up to date, grunge-influenced attitude into some of the work. It is no wonder then that there are sparks on this album that bring UK’s Gomez to mind – but while Gomez focuses on giving the 60’s R&B a new modern and often joyful treatment, Lemmus Lemmus is more concerned on inflicting relevance and sorrow into the 60’s psychedelia.

Noam Rapaport, a somewhat locally known session musician and a past member of various cover-bands, on organs and mellotrons, is a full and equal contributor to the creative process. He plays in the experienced musician spot, giving the album a more tamed approach that is colored with early progressive rock quotes.

But wait! The picture is yet to be completed, as there are additional guest musicians that came to spice things up with the presence of their instruments – in one point or the other you can find an aching cello, fit, 70’s styled drumming supplied by Rockfour’s Isaar Tennenbaum, and other surprises.

You are encouraged to take a peek at "Hands of Time" as a good representative track: it starts with a guitar melody that is not too far away from the Allman Brothers’ classic "Melissa," but evolves with hazy vocals, flute and semi-symphonic mellotron and Hammond-organ work to form a basic yet rich statement. A taste of early analog-electronic (with possible influences by Holger Czukay and Brian Eno) can also be traced here, and it continues to flourish on other tracks, in a restrained way that is typical of the entire instrumentation on the album.

It all comes alive with a tasteful, crystal clear modern production. However, at some places it sounds a bit fragmented or uncompleted, especially in the end of the long closing piece, "Silly Princess"; but that does not seem to take much away from the overall feel that this album implements on the listener.

Chameleon Mood Swing is mainly a contemplative effort, which offers a genuine feel and a unique voice. Sure, it is not perfect, but who says it needs to be perfect in order to be fully-realized? (8/10)

String instruments are threaded with cat-like howls repeatedly into an upbeat groove. Then, guitars introduce an overdriven, blues inspired melody, eccentric yet precise. Slowly, it all evolves into a great trained mess, before cutting into a contemplative quiet passage that is full of sadness and of menacing interpretations. Slowly again, it all turns into a parade of bizarre occurrences delivered via another loud rocking, melodic statement, only to roll you back to where it all began.

This is how the rock orchestra Larval introduces itself on the lengthy first track of Obedience, and it's pretty much the picture painted along the entire album in a very intimidating yet satisfying and surprising way.

Larval displays its blues and southern rock influences in a symphonic approach, building heavy atmospheres as well as climaxes in a way that brings King Crimson's "Lark's Tongues in Aspic" to mind. The orchestra’s detailed notes in a sea of desert-like melodies strike the listener like heat waves while comforting him like an oasis. Confused? So was I, as this music is full of conflicts – it's a part of their charm! ; And while patience and an appropriate mood are basic requirements from the listener, it's a charm worth exploring. (8.75/10)

Forgotten Suns take influences from the hard progressive rock bands such as early 80’s Rush (there’s even a small homage to "Red Barchetta" on "Strange Affair with the Night") and Marillion. Therefore, it is not really much of a surprise to find out they sound quite a bit like early Dream Theater (which gathered their influences from similar territories), only not as technical and a bit mellower in tone.

So you might think that somewhere between Marillion and Dream Theater is really not such a good place to be in, especially since it is a place well-trodden; well, in most cases you’d be right, but Forgotten Suns, without a lot of originality (there’s really not a lot of place to blame them) but with a touching, honest performance, manage to make Snooze, their second album, work.

This lengthy conceptual piece (about 80 minutes that is spread, for whatever reason, over two discs) offers very melodic songs that revolve around the subject of snoozing through life (being passive and confused, missing opportunities, and so on). It is very gratifying once you get past the "weary, familiar terms" tag you’ll probably associate to it on the first listen.

With various hooks that keep you in focus throughout the album (and some of its lengthy epics), consistently pleasing guitar and keyboard melodies, dynamic instrumentations that do not go over the top, and a sincere vocal performance which sounds like a tender version of Dream Theater’s James LaBrie, this work manages to be more captivating than most of Dream Theater’s work.

While technical skills fanatics should stick with Dream Theater and co., the more occasional audience who can use a well written and performed, heartfelt, solid release should definitely check this out. (8/10)

Candlemass is weird. They make some of the best doom metal records in history from 1986-90, culminating in what has to be regarded as the band’s definitive line-up, fronted by the band’s most famous singer: the portly, monk’s robe-wearing, electric afro-coiffed Messiah Marcolin.

Then they release a fantastic live album and lose Marcolin. They make a pretty terrible album called Volume 6, or something. Band leader Leif Edling says he’s sick of the fantasy metal elements, and the band disintegrates and resurfaces with an almost entirely new lineup with Dactylis Glomerata (and the superb follow up, 1999's From the 13^th Sun), with a doom sound that feels a lot like Black Sabbath’s self-titled debut. Excellent records, may we add.

So all’s well and good. But then they realize how much the classic lineup is loved by metal fans far and wide, and pull the Swedish version of the Black Sabbath reunion, playing festivals featuring material ONLY from their early, classic albums. Meanwhile, the band’s most current studio lineup is....?

Who knows? But like Sabbath, will it mark the end of Candlemass forever once the reunion period is over? Or will they make records like the hallowed ones from the 80s? Resurrected incarnation or new incarnation, we can only hope they’ll make something new. And while 2CD live albums of their reunion are cute, really, now, it’s not what the metal world absolutely needs by a long shot.

Doomed for Live – Reunion 2002's greatest asset, aside from the nostalgia, is the sheer volume of songs. And the sound is really good... and the intensity that comes across on Candlemass’ greatest live recordings seems to be in place. Classics like "Demon’s Gate" and "A Sorceror’s Pledge" are still as infectious as ever. But you can’t shake the feeling that something is a little tired on stage... or at least stale. Marcolin’s singing often trips over his zeal, and for some reason he never attempts the high notes that he occasionally did on his studio sessions. And while this is a good live record, and certainly one that any major Candlemass fan will feel compelled to pick up, it pales in comparison to the live album released in 1990, and maybe even to the live bits found on the 2CD remasters of the first four Candlemass classics. (6.2/10)

We were all over the Cream Abdul Babar material from their split with Kylesa (reviewed some issues ago). It was rough, damaged and fierce; like an experimental, technical, sludgy metalcore. So we were pumped to get this 2CD album of this band’s earlier material.

Well... Cream Abdul Babar sure has come a long way since those earlier days.

Disk one is pretty tedious. The sound is good, but the music is some genre of simplistic, vaguely stoner rock played by irate surfers. The vocals are the worst of the bunch, being dimension-less screaming done without much evidence to attention to phrasing or delivery.

Disk two is remarkably better, but still nowhere near the material on the split. Here, the material is largely like the stuff on disk one, but the intensity and meanness is turned up considerably in sound, delivery and vocals. The best track here, and indeed of the entire album, is "Thomas P Rex," an electronic noise interlude that captures the essence of that split we keep telling you about.

You should know that I have a heavy bias against anything overly blues-based or that fits clearly in the "stoner" category. But I used to like it. And the stuff here isn’t bad, per se, just redundant and often unfocused. Don’t even consider buying this before you get the split. (4.9/10)

Phone Numbers is continuing proof that mediocrity can become a bonafide genre, as long as its done long enough and by enough bands. In this case, the style is pop punk emo, with flat, range-less singing, some run-of-the-mill screaming, and music that’s on the hard side, but you still can’t shake the feeling that the guys making it are 120 pounds, soaking wet. Phone Numbers is an EP, and even then, it’s too long. (4/10)

To the cybergoth brand of trendy black metal, and to all the real black metal fans out there, I sincerely apologise for soiling the genre by applying it to Ensoph. All I can think of when I hear this is the heinous treachery of ex-Dimmu Borgir bassist Nagash. To their credit, the vocals are a hell of a lot better than The Kovenant, and the drums, for the most part, have a genuine and full-bodied sound.

Though the effort has been made to make this album both diverse and bizarre, it's simply far too artificial. I suppose this is music for the tortured souls of goths to whom this crossover shit is the best thing since sliced bread. Despite the odd moment of bass-driven punch in "Sophia's Fall" and the occasional patch of nod-along riffing, Opus Dementiae is a depressing experience, plain and simple. The addition of piano and flute tracks into the mix does not lend Ensoph sophistication, merely weakness. At the end of the day, go for whatever flips your switch, but the only way the earth will move is listening to this during an earthquake. (3.5/10)

Well, they're back. And style-wise, they haven't really changed, not that there's anything wrong with that. I'm all for bands staying true to what won them their fans in the first place. With the help of modern production, quality 80's thrash has come back with a vengeance. The most notable driving force this time around is the pounding basslines of Dennis Pepa, underlying the abrasive riffing of Rob Cavestany and Ted Aguilar.

Death Angel may not have been my favourite of the old thrash scene, but The Art of Dying makes for some damn good listening. Despite the occasional hint of drag factor, you can always hear that 80's spirit coming through in fine style, like that of Exodus, Destruction and Overkill. Considering that their comeback was originally meant only as a few reunion tour dates, I'd say Death Angel have done pretty well, especially with tracks like "Prophecy" and "Never Me." Even though I would compare closing track "Word to the Wise" to Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains before any thrash band, I would single it out as the most well written song on the album.

I wouldn't call this essential, but still a very commendable effort. (6.5/10)

I have the sneaking suspicion that this is one of those albums that will end up growing on me, so that three months from now, you will find me gushing about it, unable to wrest it from any and all of my stereo equipment. For now, I am intriguingly pleased with it. The lyrics speak to a certain angst that anyone who is working any desk-based job can relate to. Or a teenager, caught up the in mundane hideousness of being a teenager. Yet, while there are some decidedly strong sounds and some kickass guitars on this disc, it is hardly a screaming emo-fest.

The eighth track, "My God," asks the quintessential, existential questions of what anyone is doing anywhere in a manner that easily reminds one of Modest Mouse. "I Can’t Seem to Think," on the other hand, conjures images of sensitive guys strumming guitars beside a campfire, harmonizing closely while speaking of deep tragedies... roadtrips... driving away from the person you just broke up with.

All in all, this is a highly enjoyable CD that has enough variety of tones and sounds to keep you intrigued even on the tenth time through. And even if you want to skip the slow tracks to hear only the loud ones, the quiet ones will one day make it onto a mix-CD and haunt you. (8/10)

Sometimes, you just want to hear a good pop album, but you don’t want to listen to something quite so flashy and highly produced as, say, Jem. If you pick up the High Water Marks’ album, Songs About the Ocean, you won’t be disappointed. This CD starts off high-energy, and just keeps riding that high all the way through.

With the always winning combo of two guitars, a female lead vocalist, and a sure-handed sound, it’s hard for the HWM to go wrong. While the influences on these multi-talented musicians (all of whom play in other bands, and frequently use different instruments in those other bands) could be easily discerned from a careful listen, none of them are overwhelmingly blatant, but rather make you feel a bit nostalgic as you listen. You are reminded of why you liked those other bands back in the day, and you are pleased that some people, at least, are still making music that sounds fresh. (8/10)

Code666 has a habit of releasing bands that are always very interesting to look at, even to delve into a little, but only a handful of them actually prove worthy of the investment on the long run (I’m taking issue with that one – Roberto). Suffice to say that you should ALWAYS check out the bands this label puts out, but be wary of spending your money left and right before you are absolutely sure it’s what you want.

Void of Silence is one of those bands that float around on the border of worthy/not worthy. For some people who hear this, they will drop to their knees, clutch their hearts and thank who ever is out there for this next-in-line, miracle wonderland band that will forever remain the main interest of their hearts. For others… well, for others it’s not that dramatic. If you are among the dramatic metal heads, you can safely go out and get this right away, especially if you LIKE dramatic metal, because if anything, Void of Silence is just that.

I remain among the sceptical crowd, even after listening to this album for a week.

Granted, it is filled with:

- amazing parts that simply drip with black melancholy, forced out by lush and frail synths.

- long, drawn out songs that move seamlessly from one "holy" moment to the next.

- some excellent doom-ish guitar parts.

- long songs (the longest being the album opener at 20+ minutes) that stay interesting.

- DRAMA! (Alright, we get it, already! – Roberto)

Which is all good, of course, but the record is also plagued with at times shady vocals, a rather shady drum production (especially on the cymbals) and an all around shady feeling that listening to this album is slowly turning me into a drama queen (mission accomplished - endlessly butting in Roberto).

So unless you are absolutely CRAVING for some good old drama in the form of a metal band that is said to "set a new standard of quality and originality, creating a brand new music style," I call bullshit and tell you to give this pseudo-doom album a listen before buying it. (6.9/10)

Old school darkwave. Honestly, what more can be said about the releases in this genre that has not been said a million times before?

In the case of Pleasure and Pain: they offer it with a little twist, because otherwise no one would even bother with this debut album. It’s the same old story of heavily 80’s influenced goth electronic music, goth rock music, goth this, goth that, EXCEPT it is all thrown in together to create one super duper goth mix of… goth.

Really… you’ll have nothing to work with on this release, so just forget it even exists. (0/10)

Ah, when I receive an album that comes in a lush package as this, I am immediately inclined to give it some bonus points; proving that the eye is not useless when it comes to music and especially not when it comes to receiving bonus points from yours truly.

Clint Listing, who is part of several interesting projects (which you should know and if not, go visit http://beautyandpain.com), takes on the woes and pains of ambience on his own and succeeds, to some extent… and fails in others.

We throw those names out the window and instead focus entirely on the music itself because it only clouds the judgement. Let’s dive in, shall we?

We listen to the album, in the dark, alone and with eyes closed.

We come to the realisation that our throwing stuff out the window paid off because when focussed entirely on the music, we find ourselves tangled in a web of lush dreams. A dream that goes on and on without break and slowly lets us float out of said window (how ironic), into the pulsating midnight.

We come to a screeching halt after 42 minutes because Listing felt inclined to put 20 minutes of silence before the start of the last song (which we gather from the track list, is probably a bonus track). We blink and drop like bricks to the ground, rubbing our painful backsides.

A betrayal of sorts, after such a long and lovely journey into tranquillity. Not entirely sure if we should trust him enough to listen to the album again.

Listing succeeds in the main portion of the album AND succeeds in breaking the album in two in an ugly way. A dreadfully bad move that badly hurts the album’s chance of being essential. (7/10 with the break, 9/10 if you chop off the last 28 minutes)

Everybody’s favorite (only?!?) veggie-agricultural commando squad hit back with their fourth excretion of environmentally conscious bedlam. The band continues to fine tune their approach with each release and Humanure finds them operating at full bore, creating havoc that’s akin to a bolt though the skull.

Sonically, this is an album of two minds. After the now beyond requisite intro, you’re assaulted by nine blasts of ultra heavy and hyper-technical death-grind. Pummeling rhythms propel each track, supported by squiggly guitar bits, guttural vocals, circular riffs and breakdowns so brief you’ll wonder if they were even there in the first place. The precision with which the band accomplishes this stew is fairly astonishing given that one misstep would bring the entire thing to ruin in the blink of an eye. A crisp production only enhances the meticulousness on display. No complaints here.

But. But… Closing track, "Men Before Swine," is the pearl in the offal heap. Sounding like a refugee from the Cold Meat Industry roster, it’s the aural equivalent of a slaughterhouse tour – nine plus minutes of creepy and disturbing atmosphere. Deep, rumbling bass drones evoke images of heavy machinery, turbines in constant flux. Agonized pig squeals move through that fog, propelled by none too comforting echoes of human voices mixed with the constant foreboding of rattling chains and metal striking metal. Entirely too effective.

Cattle Decapitation has nothing left to prove in the grind arena. It might behoove them to more fully pursue the avenue "Men Before Swine" has opened up as they are already quite capable in that setting. More, please. (7.5/10)

God Defamer is a celebration of terribleness, inside and out. But yet this complete void of taste or nuance is precisely what makes Dementor’s latest album not only interesting, but a pretty resounding success.

Dementor definitely has the sound of technology on their side. The guitars are as thick as concrete, but clear as a bell, and drums are absurdly huge. Match the impossible sound with the drummers utterly tactless style of playing – in which he never once lets up on the double kick, wild, Morbid Angel-inspired guitar solos that all sound the same (as do the songs, come to think of it) and you have a recipe for obnoxiousness... or so it would seem.

For the bad taste and murderous sound come together for an album that grabs you by the throat and simply impresses you with how fierce and focused it is, and indeed on that scale alone, God Defamer is one of the most impressive. Issues of how you might have done it aside, Dementor clearly have painstakingly formulated their sound, and based on their band name, have achieved it 100 percent. Sure, it’s the same thing over and over again, but God Defamer is pretty great fun. How much of that impression is contingent on their sound being cutting edge remains to be seen, but for a while, anyway, this is a recommendable album. (7.5/10)

An album inspired by gardens.

Gardens? Yes, gardens.

We all know them, most of us have one. We all walk past them when we go outside, so why not make an entire album dedicated to gardens? What a brilliant idea.

And thanks to the variety of gardens, Saphir ended up having a variety of songs. You have gardens of the hanging variety, very rainy English gardens, peaceful and tranquil Chinese gardens and the exotic Arabic gardens. It’s much the same with Saphir. The booklet features wonderfully lush lyrics about said gardens; most of which are in English, but some in Italian and French, and unless you can read them, serve only as pretty looking filler (unless you are a geek and translate them).

Album opener "Azar" is a very exotic, acoustic guitar driven song that would fit perfect in an Arabic garden filled with thinly veiled, dark haired beauties. "The Gentle Sleep" on the other hand, stands out by the piano that one moment sounds frail and fragile, the next bombastic and menacing. Despite the excellent variety of songs and instruments (especially the percussion section is wonderful) there is one thing that holds them all together:

Francesca Nicoli. I think I am in love.

I have heard a dozen people claiming that her voice is what makes this album, another dozen that claims she breaks it, so make sure you give this album a listen before purchasing. I can understand the initial apprehension when hearing a first Ataraxia song; her voice is truly out of this world, almost floating above the gender attributes of man and woman, a unique voice in a league of its own, but if it is not to your liking, it will sound like a hoarse she-male that needs to be put out of its misery. But if it is, oh my... prepare to be enticed, romanticized and all around titillated because this is one sexy voice. (9.5/10)

On first viewing of the CD’s booklet your brain might make the spatial leap that the band’s moniker is Killwhiteydead. If only. Now THAT would be a band name for the ages, especially coming from four presumably Caucasian miscreants. And just who is the Whitney in question? Please, not Whitney Houston. Her endless trips in and out of rehab, coupled with Bobby Brown’s jail stints are just too entertaining to put on the slab just yet, at least until Britney’s first Betty Ford Clinic visit is complete. Killbritneydead, anyone?

Never Good Enough for You comprises seventeen tracks of grinding Carcass-like business for its 30-minute duration. The album is elevated both by a guitar sound distinctively cleaner than that usually found in the grind field, and drums that could have been recorded in Pantera’s studio. Song titles, while amusing, ("You Like Knife Play? I Like Knife Play," "Who Said Alcohol & Handguns Didn’t Go Great Together") are perfunctory as there is nary a break between tracks. Killwhitneydead have a well honed grasp and command of the unexpected – black metal tinged vocals, an ample number of mosh parts, the utter hubris to insert power metal histrionics in the middle of the whole thing – that makes for a constantly shifting backdrop.

The glue that binds the whole deal? The raison d’etre? Samples. Dozens of them, everywhere. Beginning, middle, end. KWD, more than any band, (at least in sheer preponderance) utilize sampling as instrumentation. Half of the time they aren’t even integrated into the song structure, everything stops dead. On first listen this can be a bit jarring. However, once you realize that a sample from say, "Road to Perdition," is used instead of a guitar solo or chorus, it all makes a perverse sort of sense. KWD take sampling to its logical conclusion, making it a fundamental component of their song construction. This formula will undoubtedly get tired for more that another album or two down the road, but with Never Good Enough For You it works just fine, indeed. (6.5/10)

Of Ordealis Records’ latest crop of albums, Gholgoth looked the lamest, but turned out to be the best. With cover art that reminded us of the Dungeons and Dragons TV cartoon we loved so much as a child (anyone remember Venger? You might if you look at the back of the Gholgoth CD), we were expecting silliness.

But no. For Gholgoth means business, especially if you qualify business proportionally with the presence of blast beats. But what this Hungarian black metal outfit does so well is not so much play all the parts just great, but make the album full of nuances in spite of all the speedy rough housing.

Somnus Mortis Imago is filled with hooks, cool riffs and tasty morsels. The songs have nuances to them as obvious as a slow breakdown, or as subtle as a different harmony or drum fill. To make a long story short, if you’ve enjoyed the work of the black metal band Thy Infernal and want more, here’s the next album for you to buy. (7.9/10)

Apparently Blut Aus Nord has been around for 10 years already (and released three outstanding *and* utterly different albums – Roberto), reason enough to give themselves a big pat on the back, but to release what is one of the best black metal albums of the year is just frostbitten icing on their 10 year "we are Blut Aus Nord, watch us REDEFINE RULES" jubilee cake. Give them a big round of applause, please.

Also, apparently, there are two versions of this disc; I received the promo disc from Candlelight but when I mail ordered myself a copy (not from Candlelight mind you) I received a copy from some shady French label.

MAKE SURE you get the Candlelight version because seriously, whoever at the French label gave the "ok" to release The Work Which Transforms God has shit in their eyes. The artwork is absolutely horrible, you could do better yourself in Microsoft Paint.

Fucked up artwork antics aside; this record should be bought by anyone and everyone that even remotely enjoys black metal. Blut Aus Nord is one of those bands that damn well do as they please with the genre and actually turn it into something that just screams "IMPRESSIVE" and "EXTRAORDINARY," instead of just grim and necro. They are also highly under-appreciated, or even unrecognized by the majority; something that should change because they are deserving of much, and much more credit. Hopefully now with Candlelight, they can reach out to the US masses and get a little fame next to their name.

If you have any way of listening to this album before buying it, listen to the track "Our Blessed Frozen Cells" and you will be sold immediately! You will hear that it is not in the traditional black metal blast beat ridden songs that the band truly shines, but in the extremely sludgy funeral dirges that borderline hypnotize. If you want to take it a step further, put on "Procession of the Dead Clowns" and your life will be complete.

They could’ve put only those two songs on a disc and sold it, and I would STILL call it one of the biggest albums of the year. Downright amazing. (10/10)

"Pure Depressive Black Funeral Doom Metal"

Six tracks, in total of a bit over 40 minutes, filled with that lovely catch phrase. I don’t know about you, but this is enough to either give me the jitters or make me roll my eyes and groan.

Nortt executes in style, so no eye rolling here. But there are several points of criticism that I need to vent. For one, the extreme, gritty guitar sound of black metal does not, I repeat, NOT, lend itself well to doom metal. Because the guitars generate such a hiss, it’s very hard to get into the guitar riffs themselves, which are, if you listen carefully, pretty damn doomy. Such a shame.

Second, because of said hiss, it’s also very hard to get a feel of what the album is all about apart from said lovely catch phrase. On songs like "Sorgesalmen" the sound would have benefited greatly if they had used a warmer, darker guitar sound. Now the intense beauty that is essentially what makes this track one of the highlights of the album is somewhat subdued under hiss and grit. Such a shame.

But if we look away from the doom parts of Graven, then we find a wealth of intensely bleak and melancholic music; almost depressing enough to get depressed but never depressing enough to actually begin tying a noose around your neck... just the way it’s supposed to be.

Graven is an essential album for anyone with a taste for the morbid; black metal fans should rejoice because the band takes the genre into something much more rewarding and lasting. Doom metal fans should "listen first, buy second" because of the guitar sound.

If you can get past the minor points, then you will enjoy what is one of the highlights of the year. (8.5/10)

Ah, how blissful the noise genre is… how painful it is when no one understands what the fuck you are on about when you say, "damn, did you hear the latest Wolf Eyes release?" Everyone listening to noise goes through a situation like that every time he or she tries to converse about the musical side of life. Unless of course you are blessed with a city that thrives on noise, but come on, when’s that ever gonna happen?

So when I say, "damn, did you hear the latest Melek-Tha release?" you will all collectively say, "what the fuck? who?" and exactly ONE person, way over there in the back will say, "yeah man, excellent stuff." To whoever that person is, thank you for reading.

Melek-Tha is the demonic brain child of Lord Evil and his side kick Cyborg Drum Engine (probably IS a drum machine, but hooray for being sinister) and is actually less noisy than expected. Relying heavy on industrial beats, atmospheres and density, this record is actually a lot like something that would perfectly fit on the CMI bill, if it weren’t made by the French.

Personally, I would have liked to hear more noise in there, scraping metal on metal, hyper-sonic ear rupturing, screeching, contact mic laden NOISE, because it would give the album a much more violent edge. Here, the slow, brooding beats and atmosphere take the upper hand and lulls rather than pierce.

The first track starts off nicely: it’s very rhythmic in nature and somewhat noisy, but because of the subdued nature of the industrial edge, even the noisier parts come off as tranquil, and by the time you are eight minutes into the song you will be sitting back in your comfy chair, feet up and sporting a cig. The rest of the album works the same way, but sheer violent sonic moments are few and far between. Not quite what expected but very relaxing none the less. (8/10)

If you look at the meaning of the word "strife," you will notice that it always comes with a tinge of violence. If you then listen to the album by Desiderii Marginis called Strife, you will notice that it’s a rather poorly chosen title unless the strife is in slow motion. If that’s the case, then it fits rather nicely. Whichever way you choose to look at it, the end result is the same; a beautifully, haunting album that is neither here nor there on the musical realm but rather floats above the borders in a gentle, somewhat sinister way.

Apparently Johan Levin is a big medieval nut. He dabbles in archaeology and works summers as an historical guide. Obviously this is the main reason why this record feels old; the man who created it pursues that which is old and often forgotten by the rest. Buried, out of sight, out of mind. But not for him. He carefully digs through layers of sand and rock to emerge covered in dirt with his hands clutched around musical gems that ultimately become the essence of this album.

"Blackout" is by far the most beautiful track on the album: starting out with scraping metal, rumbling drones, all subdued in delicious reverb, slowly creeping its way to the most memorable moment on the album. But you will only hear it if you dig, much like Levin himself, and get dirty below the ground. The reward will be beautiful, unless you pick the wrong artefact and end up with a curse on your soul.

An essential album for all ambient lovers, especially those who have a natural tendency to herald the ways of the old as the way to enlightenment. I really have nothing more to say other than good luck as I leave you at this dig site. (9.5/10)

Otasco are a group that works in two media: music and videos. To be quite honest, the music is much, much better when accompanied by the videos, which are wry, a bit rough around the edges, but decidedly interesting. Without the pictures, though, what you get is upbeat, sometimes spazzed-out (There’s a serious guitar solo. As in 80s style guitar solo) slightly geeky rock.

"The Last Bathroom Kneeling Party," for example, and its video, reminds you of all those parties you went to before, the ones you swore you’d never go to again. "Hoppy Drunk," sounds, well, hoppy. And so forth.

I think I’d like to see a movie written and filmed by Otasco, because they have a knack for storytelling and an interesting sense of sight. The CD, I suspect, will get a bit less play. I can listen to the Squirrel Nut Zippers for my quirky swing sound, Cake for my absurd story, and a long list of other groups for guitars. But I might have to watch the three videos (yes, an enhanced CD!) on the disc a few more times. (6/10)

When is a metalcore album not a metalcore album? When it’s a melodic Swedish death metal album. Alright, not entirely, but Unearth owes a hell of lot more to the avenues and byways of Stockholm than say, Peoria. Not that they don’t play metalcore in Sweden, it’s just... oh, nevermind, you get the idea.

Album opener "The Great Dividers" starts the proceedings in grand fashion and you’d be hard pressed not to believe that you haven’t stumbled upon the lost Slaughter of The Soul sessions – the heavy and the melodic meshing into one driving and unyielding force. It follows the Gothenburg blueprint to a tee. Where Unearth manage to avoid straight imitation is their insertion of metalcore tropes within the MSDM framework.

The Oncoming Storm is rife with short, punchy songs exhibiting catchy structures, stop-start rhythms and quick, to the point solos. Emo flavored vocal parts rear their head on two tracks ("Lie to Purify" and "Endless"), coming across more as a respite than focal point of each song. The emo card is played stronger, musically speaking, on "Aries," an achingly delicate, piano-driven piece that’s supported by vaporous guitar lines and anguished wailing set deeper in the mix. It’s the ideal soundtrack when dredging a haunting memory that refuses to fade; raw sound as catharsis.

Two tracks range from the constraints of both styles, adding more color to the band’s palette. "Bloodlust of the Human Condition" starts as a slow, downtempo number that imperceptibly gathers speed until it fairly blazes along before reverting back to its deliberate origin almost without detection. "False Idols" is an amorphous little demon, imbued with haphazard time changes that make it impossible to get a handle on the thing. These two songs, more than any other on the album, practically scream out Unearth’s mission statement: a deft appropriation of several different styles, reconfigured and set free on the world. It’s a familiar mutt that’ll surprise when you swear you know all of its tricks. (6.5/10)

Looking back, the cover seems aptly fitting for this album. Disinter's effort could be termed as primitive in the essence of its delivery. There is no dependence on triggered blasts or on ultra low vocals to make the output more brutal; instead what you hear is death metal played with conviction and energy. Their music could be described as death metal interspersed with moments of thrashing madness and melodic guitar work.

Skin ripping riffs hide behind numerous corners, like the one which pops out at the starting of "Murals of Horror" or the initial moments of album opener "Go Away and Rot!!!" The latter makes for a very unsatisfying opener though as it gets over much too fast and in a rather abrupt manner. The double bass pedal gets a good seeing to, but tends to become unnoticeable during the noisier sections.

Backed up by some solid songwriting, the songs have a nice flow to them though things do get a bit tedious with the last song, an acoustic reprise of the title track.

The strange thing about this album is that even though it is so enjoyable, the listener would be hard pressed to point out more than a few high points after listening to the whole thing. Disinter seem to be poised right on the edge; whether their next material crosses over to the level that As We Burn hints at remains to be seen. (8.2/10)

Do you still listen to your Venom records? I don't. So after listening to The Spirit of the West a few times, I couldn't convince myself that I needed to listen to much more of this, either. Yeah, yeah, it's the legendary Master, and the truth be told, this isn't "bad" as far as rock'n'roll death/thrash goes. But it sounds so horribly outdated it makes me cringe visibly. Add to that some really cheesy and downright stupid wild west cowboy imagery, and even stupider lyrics ("I coulda, shoulda, woulda, but I didn't"!!) and you need to be a pretty loyal fan of this band or the genre to be able to digest this. Oh, the one thing on this album that gets a thumbs up from me: the well played solos. Other than that, it's goodbye for Master. (3/10)

If you’re a devotee of Carpathian Forest, and you should be, this 0-minute offering of misanthropy is just the device to get a few drops of blood circulating towards your blackened little heart. Known associates Vrangsinn and Kulde conjure five missives of black metal weirdness, incorporating most of the elements that make Carpathian Forest so damn enjoyable, while expanding on those same components ever so slightly.

"The Cynical Aftermath" and "God of Hypocrisy" possess everything you’d expect: pummeling, buzz-ridden black metal, keyboards used sparsely and for contrast rather than accent. Standout track "The Avenger" is a throat grabber. After an intro with some horror movie piano noodling, it veritably bursts through the speakers like a tornado, twisting, chaotic and enveloping. A mid-song break  deposits you into the eye of the funnel, calm, yet eerie and foreboding, an all too short lull before you’re pulled back to the swirling bedlam.

"Suicidal Melancholia" utilizes a more deliberate tempo between  speed bursts, lending the song a more epic feel. Ghostly, choral sounding keyboards lurk in the background until they’re all that remain; a perfect evocation of the song’s title. Closer "Dodsferd" is a satisfying bit of oddness. If your CD player had a pitch control,  you’d be hard pressed not to think that parts of the song were  laying at 45 rpm rather than 33. In true Carpathian fashion, it works so well that you may forget that it shouldn’t work at all. (7.4/10)

If for nothing else, you have to admire the two guys in Spanish black metal band Cryfemal for risking life and limb in order to bring you this album. Their amps nearly killed them. These sound like they were wrapped up in Kleenex. The tissues are all inside the wiring, and the heat from them has caused the paper to ignite, resulting in a raging electrical fire that is consuming sound and matter. But Cryfemal play through it all.

And they did get hurt from this ordeal. Musically, imagine a badly wounded, disoriented Morbid Angel trying to play black metal. Add in a drum machine set to "drance-inducing speed," utterly weird keyboard ambiance, and completely buried vocals, and you’ve got the recipe for some pretty mind-bending and cult black metal obscurity. We think you should check it out. (7.7/10)

Second demo of the Greek horde (their words). So keeping in mind the words "demo" and "Greek" in the same sentence, we’ll graciously cut them a little slack. After all, the Greeks did invent modern western civilization.

Cosmic Chaos isn’t bad by any means. However, the thin production found here is a detriment to a band whose members are certainly quite capable. A band who is aiming for the kult audience would thrive with this. But it’s obvious that Ravencult aspire to something more than that, given the often precarious, and sometimes ambitious, nature of the songwriting. First track "Pure Hellish Blasphemy" is an anomaly here, a perfect example of a band transitioning out of their origins. A two minute burst of blackened thrash, the likes of which you play when first putting together a band of this ilk.

The remaining three songs demonstrate that the band has already moved on from that standard, employing tempo changes, hints of melody and the odd refrain. "Manifestations of the Essence," a 7-minute stretch that sniffs at grandeur, makes use of a number of interludes, adding texture not found on the other tracks. It’s here that Ravencult distinguish themselves from the other members of the horde. Promising. (5.5/10)

Flood the Earth Records is off to a fine start. Their first release is of Aphotic, a very underrated doom/death band from the United States whose three recording sessions in as many years are compiled here on Stillness Grows.

One of the nicest aspects of this practical compilation is that the material largely sounds like it could have come from the same recording sessions. The style remains the same, the guitar maintains a defined and full sound, and it’s only during the last five tracks, from the self-titled demo, that you begin to get the hint that they were done at different times.

Sylistically, Aphotic succeed largely from their near constant application of guitar and keyboard harmonies within the framework of their simple music to weave a powerful, engrossing atmosphere.

If I had to pick an overall favorite, it’d be the middle four tracks, from the Under Veil of Dark sessions. The material here succeeds much like Katatonia’s Brave Murder Day in its layered, building simplicity. However, the organic, human drum playing on the first five tracks gives Aphotic its greatest appeal in terms of overall sound. Aphotic especially nail the production here, maximizing their intent with the sound by mixing the aforementioned guitar and snare drum in similar ways to great effect.

Stillness Grows would be something of a tragedy if Aphotic stopped here. It’s a highly recommended debut, of sorts, and let’s hope that the band can produce a full-length effort with the lineup from the first five tracks on this record. (8/10)

Remember the guys in school who were members of the chess club? Spent all their spare hours in the computer lab? Found solace and order in poring over some quadratic equations during free period? Well, they grew up and formed Canvas Solaris. Sublimation is the result of three enormously talented musicians who are more skilled now than you can ever hope to be. You will listen in admiration to their prog-metal compositions, awestruck by the intricate puzzles they construct. Perhaps you will even admit to liking them when no one’s around. And ultimately, as it was on the playground, you’ll steer clear because associating with such geeks is bad for your rep.

The musicianship is first rate but there’s a clinical detachment here that prevents any sort of involvement. It’s all a tad too perfect; there’s no risk. Other musicians of a technical bent will appreciate this, perhaps even find themselves immersed. Everyone else hanging out on the sidelines will grow increasing annoyed. Call it instrumental revenge.

The relatively short (three to eight minute range) songs do them no favors. This is the sort of music that thrives on long, drawn out compositions; sonic journeys that draw you in and eventually trap you by sheer force of will. Concision is the enemy. So is safety.

None of this matters though. Canvas Solaris don’t need our approval, but if you need a little more convincing in either direction, then play this little game: envision Pan-Thy Monium minus the weirdness and skewed world view and what is left?

Metal elevator music. (5.5/10)

Ever since we received the promo of By the End of Tonight’s Fireworks on Ice EP, I’ve been consumed by getting myself a child’s drum kit. You may have seen these things. They look like regular drum kits, except about a third of the size. The bass drum is in proportion to the rest of the drums, but is about 14".

By the End of Tonight’s drummer plays one of these things on this record, and he’s got TWO bass drums. That is so rad. And the choice of drums makes a difference in sound, and greatly serves to give this instrumental group some signature.

The band has super chops. The four songs on display here feature that certain rawness that you can hear in Don Caballero, but with a much stronger metal element, like when the double kick shows up to go along with the more metal-tinged guitars.

But By the End of Tonight unfortunately suffers from all the trappings of a super talented instrumental band: it’s probably a lot more satisfying listening to the music if you’re actually in said band, or at most if you’re a technical music geek that gets off on analyzing music purely on a mathematical level. And while this band, who... and by the way, couldn’t we come up with a better name than By the End of Tonight? How about switching the name with Fireworks on Ice? Wouldn’t that be better?... Sorry.

As I was saying, while By the End of Tonight’s music has some visceral guts to it, it still hasn’t transcended being an impressive, likeable but not immensely compelling band. Still, it’s WAY better than the Canvas Solaris (in this issue), and no doubt more fun than Dysrhythmia. It’s just a hunch, but all these problems may dissolve if these bands bit the bullet and got some kind of vocalist. As it is, it’s good, but proceed with caution. (6.7/10)

Way before there was anything known as metalcore, there was a slew of bands operating on the fringes of the hardcore and metal scenes churning out noisy, disturbed albums of material too unsettling and fucked up for most of the inhabitants of those two camps. Unsane, arguably the most well known, heads list of bands that few knew at the time and many are only learning of now. Add Dazzling Killmen, Kiss It Goodbye and a good portion of the Amphetamine Reptile roster – Hammerhead, Janitor Joe, Cows – to name but a few.

Full of loathing and vitriol, with an arsenal of controlled discordance at their disposal, Majhas inhabit that same dark space. Where they have an advantage over their predecessors is three fold:

– They benefit from the gift of collective hindsight; a wider audience might now be ready to reap the rewards of this brand of unpleasantness.

– As veterans of various bands they arrive to this armed to the teeth rather then having to find their way to a musical endpoint.

– Their affection for experimentation finds elements of rock, doom, hardcore, and metal mixed into the noise-rock base, lending the songs an even greater unpredictability.

Three tracks stand out. The first half of "Nola Heat" scatters sparse guitar notes intermittingly against the dusty sounds of a 1920’s-era blues recording transmitting through speaker static. A lazy bassline plays tag with wispy high-hat smears, creating a syrupy atmosphere worthy of the song’s title. That atmosphere gradually turns to violence as the humid oppressiveness implodes, spewing heated shards of glass in every direction.

"Intermission" starts as just that: a minimal instrumental of over amped bass and random guitar/drum interplay. It slowly grows more cohesive, finds surer footing and steamrolls to a finish that ends in an unexpected coda of reverb and contained distortion.

The trump card is slammed down with "…Character," a 21-minute behemoth that propels the band into a different realm altogether. It’s a tour of the worst neighborhood your imagination can summon, concentric circles of hell that unveil horrifying visions around each corner and misplaced beauty thrown in among the detritus. If you can imagine the dark sprawl of Neurosis welded to the post-rock antics of Bitch Magnet or A Minor Forest mixed in with a smattering of guitar drone ala Troum then you’re off to a good start. Simultaneously expansive and claustrophobic, there’s nowhere to seek shelter in the open spaces where the walls are falling in. (8/10)

Caligula mixes excellent hardcore intensity with indie cool. About 70 percent of the We Burn Bridges EP is a fierce collection of intelligent arrangements, fierce metalcore blastbeats, and crushing guitars. But then when the music needs it most, the fare segues into relaxed, loungey material that is both tasty and palate-cleansing. Let’s hope Caligula doesn’t lose its intensity, but plays up their indie sensibilities even more on a full-length. (7.6/10)

Album number three and the evolution of Susperia continues. Fear not. This is a good thing. Rather than flailing around aimlessly searching for a formula that works, that band navigates the treacherous waters of change with aplomb. Whereas their debut, Predominance, was shining example of what one might term post-black metal, and Vindication dipped into a more blackened death realm, Unlimited finds the band opting for a blackened thrash approach. It’s a testament to the band’s talents that each album has succeeded in it own right and not merely by comparison to what preceded it.

If anything, the songwriting on Unlimited has actually been improved upon, no mean feat. What you’re given is simply a collection of songs; no epics, no forays into dissonance or experimentation. Most of the tracks clock in at the four-minute range, tightly constructed and compact. Every song is meticulously crafted with no free space woven into its fabric. This approach is ideal when you want nothing more than to throw your leather jacketed self against the nearest wall in unadulterated metal abandon.

There’s never been anything discernibly original about Susperia. It’s hardly mattered though as their vocabulary is vast and they’ve an abundance of ideas of what constitutes great songwriting. Harmony and melody are never thrown in at the expense of heaviness. Straight forward does not equate with uninteresting. With Unlimited, execution is once again paramount to originality.

Opening salvo "Chemistry" will transport you back to the halcyon days of 80’s German thrash, but with a sleekness which would have been inconceivable at the time. Vocalist Athera has ditched all but the merest hint of black metal rasp, now appropriating a Bay Area influenced bellow equal parts Chuck Billy and Robb Flynn. Whether it’s a melodic, fist pumping anthem ("Home Sweet Hell"), relentless bruiser ("Years of Infinity") or the soft/hard oscillations of "Mind Apart," he’s at the helm and in control. His vocal performance underscores each song with confidence and authority while freeing the music to dispense with the bludgeoning.

Outside of those who won’t venture beyond the grimmest underground recordings it’s difficult to imagine to whom this won’t appeal. Unlimited is a remarkable album in that Susperia haven’t calculatedly tried to be all things to all people. They’ve merely unleashed a wicked gem that will appeal to most of them. (8/10)

Striborg will do just fine as our monthly dose of occult-sounding, fucked up and fiendishly retarded black metal. This supposed one-man project from Tasmania, Australia is all about noise and the rain forest of Striborg’s homeland. Rain forest black metal!

The eight track album is split into two recording sessions. Nocturnal Emissions starts with the 20-minute song of the same name, whose first half is like the condensed hiss of a winter wind. Then it all starts to unravel in cult, stumbling black metal fashion.

You get fog, eucalyptus trees, ravens, noise, decrepit drum machine, and ambiance to rival the best the genre has ever put out. Sounds like a winner. (Kult/10)

review by: Mladen Škot (added 07/2007)

Instead of the usual precautions about Striborg, how about letting the music speak for itself? Just press "play." As a "screw you, I'm doing what I want" statement, hardly anything can beat an intro of three minutes of horrible trebly noise with one long, repeated scream over it. If you aren't "tr00" and "kvlt" enough, you're already looking for something else. Save your ears for Cradle of Filth or something appropriate for your age. Poser.

Nocturnal Emissions is a self-released 2002 Striborg demo. For those familiar with the Tasmanian, cabin-dwelling, one-man band’s work, there are no big surprises here. You expect majesty, you get majesty, period. All that is necessary to disclose are the nuances making Nocturnal Emissions different from the project’s other albums. Some of them concern the sound: Although always absolutely lo-fi, it seems that Sin Nanna never uses the same settings twice. This time the guitars are stripped of everything but distortion, but the bass can actually, sort of, be heard.

As slow as the riffs are, It's still hard to make them out. Played too loud, the guitar, combined with the continuous and persistent ride cymbal, sounds like a motor-driven wood file constantly scraping off the tissue the ear drums are made of. After a while, the listener might begin to fear that there's some kind of damage done, but the sound, translated into a physical force, forces him to stay and suffer. Speaking about black metal, this is what can be described as authority through arrogance.

Although 22 minutes long, the title track is mesmerizing. There's the trebly guitar filling the space, there are the thin, cruel screams, there are the apparently sloppy, but never repeating drum patterns, and there are the slow, gloomy keyboards for the first 14 minutes. But, once submerged in this, the minutes seem like seconds and seconds seem like hours. In other words, the space component is possessed, and the time component is irrelevant. Then the drums go faster, the riffs become clearer and the once-sloppy drums go for the "fastest drummer in the world" at around the nineteenth minute. But the atmosphere is intact. There's hardly a more efficient way to instantly get lost in a nightmare realm of your choice than this one.

The other three tracks of the Nocturnal Emissions part are not without surprises, either. "Despondant Cries" is as good a slow, persuasive track as anything Burzum has ever done, but where with Burzum you were being taken to the Scandinavian dark wastelands, Striborg proves that Tasmania has just as many threatening, unexplored places. Kid you not.

Also, there's no kidding with "Son of the Moon" or "The Freezing Northland" (that would be northern Tasmania, then) which are pure hypnotic violence, the latter done through a constant Darkthrone beat and silent, unequal, but dramatically disturbing bass. Who knows what the other instruments and vocals are doing, all the hope of seeing the light has been shattered and then scattered a long time ago.

Rain and thunder, along with the native Australian instruments announce "Under Black Rain" and the moistly sinister instrumental brings forth claustrophobic feelings of panic, being lost in a dark, vast, damp forest in the middle of nowhere.

The remaining three tracks of Nyctophobia (a 2003 demo) are classic Striborg, but this time played through a stinking, blood-soaked cloth. None more evil... though evil is an irrelevant topic here for it is a human invention. What Striborg is about, as confirmed by the superb lyrics (this time — usually they are random anti-human ramblings), is that the human race should be exterminated and erased from history, and Nature let free to blossom without obstruction. Most of the two-legged pieces of meat are just a waste of molecules and a failure in the evolutionary process. Not very hard to relate to. Let's just mention the whipping drum sounds in "Across Thornfields" and the macabre experience is complete.

So, is Striborg what you'd call music by the people, for the people? Yeah, right. Social types, better stay away. But, if you are looking at the world and yourself critically, detached, from a distance, and want to hear an aural equivalent of your thoughts, Striborg will take you as far as you want to go. (9.4/10)

Oh, the misery! 78 minutes, 22 seconds comprised of five early demos from the band Goatfire. It sounds like rehearsal tapes, basically.

Here's what's written on the CD insert: "...this is the rawest material the band has ever recorded, poorly disgusting sound, distant noise and a massive dose of Black Metal the way we always intended it... most likely you won't be much pleased and that's fine." So right there, the band itself admits that this is for completists only. And if the band itself doesn't like their own release I, as your humble reviewer, am at a loss as to why I should be reviewing this. I think it sucks, too.

If you want to slog through over an hour of what sounds like your friend's brother's bass-less black metal band attempting to write songs in the basement, or you're just obsessed with all things Goatfire, then this is highly recommended. Otherwise, surely there are other goat be-named bands worthy of your attention. (2/10)

Ohhh, spooky Casio keyboard intro! Then the guitars come in and it sounds all farty and "poorly" recorded. Yeahp, it's Eastern European BM alright. Raw, sorta thrashy, not too overbearing on the keyboards; another black metal record that's not really too distinguishable from other o.k. black metal records.

It fits the template: standard blastbeats, moody parts, wretched, reverbed vocals, suspiciously xenophobic songtitles like "Ancient Pride" and "The Honour of My Blood," etc... Speaking of which, "The Honour of My Blood" has one of those just stupid rock n' roll style riffs in the middle of it that saves this from being completely pedestrian and lethargic.

The song "War Passion" picks up some steam, too, but it's the second to last song, "The Tower of the Moon, Part II," that is probably the best and most worthy song on this record. It's sounds like a different band almost, all fuzzed out, "distortion pedal straight into the board" guitar sound, improved drums, epic feeling, another stupid rock n' roll turnaround in the middle... sweet, dude.

The last song is an early Bathory cover of the song "Armegeddon," more lo-fi than the original, and a bit unhinged, as it should be. Moontower – Black Metal Terror: two and a half songs out of 10 are worth it. (5.5/10)

Reviewing Larval’s Obedience during the last month or so threw me back to Neil Young’s On the Beach. I guess that it’s something that has to do with those symphonic desert-tracks; and since this is the second time I got an itch to write about this album for Maelstrom, I just could not let go again.

On the Beach might be a confusing title, and so is the album’s artwork. Sure, it implies the summer inspired mood, but there’s no leisure, get-a-tan type of stuff to be found here. Instead, you can find weary-tempered, semi-melodic songs – songs that puzzle and contradict in pretty much the same way the album’s front-cover does. It seems Neil Young could not decide if he should be on the optimistic side, or the pessimistic side ("Good times are comin', but they sure comin' slow").

The songs are as contradicting as Young ("I need a crowd of people, but I can't face them day to day"). Besides the opening track, which really gets things going, the rest of the tracks are quite moody and thoughtful. At times, it seems Young, on the brink on depression, manages to find the light ("And there ain't nothin' like a friend, who can tell you you're just pissin' in the wind"); At other times, he points out wrongs, looking for a reason to drown in sorrow, or at least create awareness on the listener’s side ("You're only real with your make-up on").

And so, between Young’s shaky yet firm-handed performance, his playful licks and entertaining ideas, he lets the listener decide whether he should laugh or cry ("I'm a barrel of laughs, with my carbine on"); there is no wrong choice here – "It's hard to say the meaning of this song" – as Young suggests on this outstanding release, which was finally re-released for the first time on CD last year.