Never Ending sort of endears itself initially in having some kind of appeal along the lines of Dream Evil, but harder. Put it this way, if you like the kind of structures that happy Euro power metal has, but would like less gaiety and more traditional, heads-down riffing, Mystic Prophecy’s record might be for you.

The problem is that the formula wears thin far before the album is over. Many songs on this record have very similar structures, and the riffs themselves aren’t particularly remarkable. The singer’s voice is more of a personal taste issue, but his sort of controlled hoarseness wasn’t our favorite, if you catch our drift.

There’s loads of engaging power metal out there that has more to offer than Never Ending. It’s a dead average album with a very nice production. (5.5/10)

Crionics has changed style a little bit since the last album we reviewed of theirs. On Armageddon’s Evolution, this Polish band sounds like the death metal version of Emperor’s IX Equilibrium.

Crionics isn’t an innovative band by any means. They’re not pushing the genre stylistically. Everything from their band name, look, album title and cover art reveals no deep thought or original substance. However, they are from Poland, and that says something for sure. So expect rabid, unbelievably intense and ungodly precise playing on the level of what this country produces. The music is really, good, too, but you’ll have an easy game of "spot the influences" in store. (7/10)

If you already have Arch Enemy’s vastly engaging Anthems of Rebellion, you probably have all you need this go-round until their next full-length studio album. That is, unless you’re either a completist or a serious Arch Enemy fan. Tossing out a handful of bonuses to accompany the studio version of "Dead Eyes See No Future" from Anthems, the material on the Dead Eyes See No Future EP is mostly harmless fun, if not collectively an overt marketing vehicle to cash in on the album’s notoriety.

Live tracks of the already classic "We Will Rise" from Anthems of Rebellion, plus "Burning Angel" and "Heart of Darkness" from Wages of Sin are solid recordings that put you in the zone of a seemingly monster crowd that howls its appreciation as Arch Enemy nails their songs with practical accuracy. The latter portion of the EP is then dedicated to covers that range from ugly to commendably entertaining.

While Angela Gossow proves that she can dish out the growls as effectively as her male counterparts, they do a disservice come Arch Enemy’s squalid cover of Megadeth’s "Symphony of Destruction." I’m sorry, I have much respect for Arch Enemy, particularly after a nice fifteen-minute chat with Mike Amott, but their rendition of "Symphony" is an utter flop, save for the dependable guitar work of the brothers Amott, Mike and Chris. Gossow is grossly out-of-place on this futile rendition while it’s obvious the song was covered to enjoinder the old school to the new. There’s nothing wrong with such venerable camaraderie once substantiated by the redemptive covers that ensue.

Shredding the bejesus out of Manowar’s "Kill With Power" from their seminal Hail to England album, Arch Enemy’s selection here is far more tasteful. The ensconcing between generations of metal becomes more meaningful as a result, as does the cover of "Incarnated Solvent Abuse" by Carcass, which loyal Arch Enemy fans will know is Mike Amott’s former band. It is on this cover where Angela Gossow proves herself worthy (as if she hadn’t already) to carry a death metal song, and a vintage one at that.

Capped off by the video for "We Will Rise," this handy little package has a few points-of-interest if you feel so inclined to pursue it. Not an absolute must, but the Dead Eyes See No Future EP certainly offers more than most of the remix-laden trash heap EPs dumped on the market as of late. (6/10)

It’s a good thing that Blood Red Throne has given up the strictly mid-paced MO that made up their last album. Altered Genesis rips out of the gate with a full, infectious, pummeling sound that leads to irresistible headbanging... even if you have the flu.

Still, Altered Genesis still has some feeling about it that’s mid-paced. But it’s cool in these circumstances. Even when the drums are blasting fast, the guitars’ and bass’ chunkiness make the album feel heavy and satisfying.

It’s a good feeling, hearing well made death metal that’s intense, but how much of the same thing can you go for? All the songs on this album basically do the same thing, and it didn’t seem like there were any tracks that stood out more than any others. So maybe a little short on ideas, but great on the execution of the ones they’ve got. (7.1/10)

Part of the longevity of Blackie Lawless is the fact that he’s always thinking. As one of the vigilant keepers of the flame for the original order of metal, Lawless has been releasing W.A.S.P. albums with admirable regularity. Even as old school power metal went out of fashion before unexpectedly returning as of late, you might say Blackie is reaping the benefits of staying active in the scene.

Gone are the days of shock value blood spewing, meat slinging and buzzsaw crotches. Gone are the brushes with commercial acceptance like Inside the Electric Circus and The Headless Children. Ever since W.A.S.P. released the pivotal The Crimson Idol, Blackie Lawless has found a formula he’s noticeably comfortable with. Surrounding himself with as many capricious players as even Prince, Lawless has managed to churn out reliable metal slabs with an old warhorse’s dependability. Following the first installment of what might be considered his metal opera, Lawless and his current brigade conclude the catharsis they started with The Neon God Part 2: The Demise.

As comfortable with his song structuring as Iron Maiden, Overkill or Motorhead are with theirs, you will find little surprises on The Neon God Part 2, complete with staple galloping beats like on "Resurrector" or the piston punches of "Tear Down the Walls" or the heavy strumming of "Come Back to Black." And frankly, there’s something about Blackie’s trademark rasps that are as comforting as Udo Dirkschneider’s or Lemmy Kilmeister’s. In other words, you know what a W.A.S.P. album sounds like and you get it, signed, sealed and delivered in epic form over the course of these two enterprising concept albums.

The ballady "All My Life" slightly calls to mind the opening to the classic "Widowmaker" from The Last Command, yet the maturity of this track, complete with sorrowful synthesizers, really show how far Lawless has come in his craft, just as "Destinies to Come (Neon Dion)" ironically ruptures forth in vintage W.A.S.P. form. The difference is there are no topics about sodomy with power tools! Lawless’ character, Jesse, embodies the struggle of humanity over the duration of The Neon God’s installments to seek a higher entity amidst the trappings of its material world.

As he demonstrated on his guttural post 9-11 offering, Dying for the World, Blackie Lawless has changed with the times. A philosophical Blackie Lawless? It’s the metal apocalypse revealed before our very eyes.

The other notable that should be pointed out is how vibrant and dominant Blackie Lawless’ bass sounds. It honestly hasn’t sounded this masterful, which is not to slag the man for his playing style. The point to be made is that Lawless is so immersed into his concept that he gives everything he has.

Like the first installment of The Neon God, there are nods to The Who, like on "The Demise." Ever since W.A.S.P. covered "The Real Me," Blackie has seen fit to come out of his Who-loving closet in repetitious homage. Therefore, could it be posited that The Neon God itself as a whole is Blackie Lawless’ Tommy? Alright, maybe that’s a bit radical, but it’s definitely the pinnacle of Lawless’ songwriting career. (9/10)

On the operating table today, ready to go under the knife, we have Impaled's first release on Century Media, Death After Life. Their medical history contains two prior full-length albums, several splits, EPs, demos and a best-of compilation. At first cut, our team of surgeons was none too impressed. The first few tracks with screechy vocals, noodly melodic guitar solos and KEYBOARDS had us cringing in our scrubs.

But, suddenly, here comes the track "Preservation of Death," a truly awesome track and it only gets better from there on. Laden with solid blastbeats, though not of the ultra intrusive sort that get old after the first 100 of them, great riffing and melodic guitars throughout, and yes, even the raspy vocals and keyboards become endearing in the later tracks.

Upon further examination we discover layers upon layers of notes and deep melodies. Excellently played, recorded well, the only real detraction is the cheesy "medical" dialogue between songs, but, that's what Impaled is all about. Essential for all death metal fans. (9/10)

Formed in 1996, the Spanish brutal death band Human Mincer has released 2 EPs, a full-length album titled Embryonized and now presents us with their new album, Devouring Flesh.

If you were expecting standard, generic South American-style "brutal" death metal, you'd be very pleased. Nothing in this album is bad, it's just rather lackluster. Customary death guitars and drumming, South American-style death vocals... more gurgly shouting than real guttural growling.

No song here is really interesting enough to pay attention to, you find your mind wandering throughout the album and forgetting that it's playing. Like I said it's not BAD, just boring, more suited to background music at a party than an album you call your friends and say, "HOLY SHIT! YOU HAVE TO HEAR THIS!" about. All in all, meh, pretty unremarkable, so I won't. (5.5/10)

There is such a thing as being too clever, and Frantic Bleep are clever and a half. This isn’t so much a slam as a gentle prodding towards potential self-awareness, courtesy of the dime store psychiatric musings of Doktor Joshua. It’s difficult, near impossible, to dislike what’s found on The Sense Apparatus, yet at the same time it’s equally hard to engender any real affection for it, either.

The unassailably positive first. The quartet that makes up Frantic Bleep can play, with a capital "p" (note visual irony). Really, though, these Norsemen can wipe the floor with most of the other bands plying their wares these days. Each song is a dexterous display of controlled speed, and instrumental agility wrapped around complex arrangements and on-the-fly time changes.

The negative flipside to this technical brilliance is an emotional distance that accompanies the albums nine tracks. It’s akin to flipping through a book of architectural drawings; the skill is obvious, the execution admirable but nothing that will swarm the brain with awe or constrict the body in an adrenal rush from its sheer beauty. With The Sense Apparatus, one listens, nods stoically and murmurs "well done, lads" and leaves it at that.

And the songs? Generally a mish-mash of power metal, technical death, minor bits of gloomy goth and pieces of grind all shoved under a patina of 70’s era prog rock. Seriously, given the pomposity so often on display here you’d imagine these guys are forever cursing themselves for not being born thirty years earlier. They were obviously raised on steady diet of Emperor, Ulver and the like and then late night at night stole down to the basement to obsessively study their parents’ Yes and ELP albums. This is fine, too, but like their playing, Frantic Bleep tries to cram as much into every song as possible without much regard for fluidity or nuance.

It’s not that they have to choose or limit the genres mined for their sound but the pieces are stacked up here together with little regard for one another. A schizophrenic approach works well when there is total disregard for the rulebook, where the chaos becomes the sound. Mr. Bungle, earlier Boredoms or even latter day Arcturus succeed because each piece of the puzzle has a complete meltdown and forms into an unfathomable new shape. On The Sense Apparatus, the sections stay rigid, calling attention to their individual attributes but refusing to let go and yield to the creation of something heretofore unfound. (5.5/10)

Exmortem’s drummer is Reno Killerich. That in itself changes the whole scope of this album’s review in Maelstrom Zine. Killerich is the drummer for the inexplicably overlooked Danish death metal band Panzerchrist, and the fact that he’s only played up on Exmortem's press release as being Dimmu Borgir’s ex-drummer (he must have been a non-studio member for less than a year), means that Panzerchrist is still getting no respect.

Anyway, aside from the Dimmu connection, Killerich’s claim to fame is having won a somewhat dubious contest of world’s fastest double kick drummer. But that doesn’t interest us. What did interest us and continues to do so is the criminally passed over genius of Panzerchrist, which is in no small part due to the man’s drumming skills.

If you’re on the same page as I am with Panzerchrist, know that you won’t be getting the same thing with Exmortem. Nihilistic Contentment feels more old-school, but played with break-neck intensity and a production that’s cutting edge. The music isn’t anything you haven’t heard before, but the album has its definite charms, like how the rhythms are insanely fast yet groovy... one of the man’s many percussive talents. Nihilistic Contentment is a great ride for death metal heads. The album kind of comes and goes, but it’s good while it lasts. (7.3/10)

Problems at the printers pushed this long-awaited live release by one of the founding bands of Swedish death metal back to February 2005. And at long last here it is. Entombed fans of the world, rejoice!

What's interesting about this as a live album is... you would have NO way of knowing it’s live, other than the polite clapping at the end. The reason behind this is that the album was recorded live in 2002 at the Royal Opera House in Sweden. They played 12 performances, not for crowds of metalheads in moshpits, but for so-called "patrons of the arts," while the Royal Ballet company danced their own interpretations of the music. The Opera House even provided the audience with complimentary earplugs.

Interesting concept. Imagine the looks on the tuxedo-clad onlookers as the guitars cranked out heavy chords and Mr. Petrov bellowed out the vocals to songs such as "Say It in Slugs," and their cover of Roky Erikson's song "Night of the Vampire" (on which Petrov sounds eerily like Glen Danzig). The entire set is so cleanly performed you'd swear they were in the studio, beautiful guitar work, especially on the intro and outro, the production and sound are spot-on, nothing here I didn't like, except maybe not seeing the ballet performance. A must have for Entombed fans. (8.7/10)

This two-DVD set has the best of both worlds: a high-quality filming of a live 2003 concert in Dismember's home country of Sweden as well as a look into the group's past with a disc full of interviews and old show footage.

The 2003 show is well-filmed and well-played; Dismember is in great form as it powers through its set, crunching out one classic after another. It's nothing but old-school death and long hair flying everywhere. And the lighting and cuts help to capture the energetic atmosphere with a variety of crowd shots and close-ups of the band interspersed with the wider angles. Although not experimental in its content or editing, and therefore not really worth watching for its own sake, the film has no outstanding flaws and does a solid, straightforward job of portraying the feature attraction.

The second disk puts it all into context with extensive low-quality footage of early shows cut with sections of a subtitled interview with Dismember, commenting on everything from line changes to early tours to how the band got its name (and how it was shortened from "Dismemberizer" due to spatial concerns). The general tone of the interview is subdued, though there is some light humor as the group reflects on the funnier moments of 16 years of playing metal, as well as some darker stories about the inspiration for "Skin Her Alive" and problems with police. It doesn't dig deep, but the commentary is enlightening, and fans of the group will like to see Dismember grow and evolve with time through the old clips tied together with the narrative of the interview. This DVD set gives an informative glimpse into one of death metal's oldest institutions, and it is a thoroughly entertaining watch, its only downfalls being a general lack of experimentation and off-stage emotion. (7.5/10)

Character is a very clear case of resting on one’s laurels. This is the same record as Damage Done, the album Dark Tranquillity last released, except the impact is far lessened because of its recycled, watered-down feel, resulting in an album that seems like a Damage Done b-side record, albeit with superb production. Ok, to nitpick, Character has some blast beats here and there, but the songs seriously sound like the re-distribution of the same notes and riffs and ideas used before, put together in an album that is infinitely less memorable than its predecessor.

But that’s cool, because Dark Tranquillity, while not working terribly hard to progress their sound, are still doing something that immediately establishes whom your listening to, and is one of the most recognizable influences in an ever-growing list of younger bands.

Does this mean Character is a bad record? Certainly not! By all means check out Character is you’re a big Dark Tranquillity fan and loved Damage Done as much as some of us did around Maelstrom. Doing the same thing over and over again is certainly no big crime, and it sure is a lot better than trading in your long established, trademark sound for someone else’s in the name of progression (think Third and the Mortal). In the grand scope of things, Character is a superior album to works such as Haven, but coming off such a triumph as Damage Done, it might have been too much to ask for another such leap forward. But, still... (6.5/10)

Does Crowbar need any introduction? If you have been living under a rock, then you will be able to relate to the melancholia that makes the majority of Lifeblood for the Downtrodden. I always get bigger kicks from the more uplifting material: the brief flash of triplet-feel NOLA style, the speedy parts here and there. But that guy's voice is so right for the gloom, it will grab any listener.

The music is on, as well. It makes good use of its time front and center. They're building it big and imposing, so a lot of superfluous flash is unnecessary. It gets the job done, and saying it does so with elegance isn't going out on a limb, when considering how it strikes a balance with the driving lyrical content.

The singing and screaming have a continuous and wide range of variation. So many bands have done the scream versus melody thing to death, to the point of having two personnel whose sole job is taking turns on the microphones. Each mouth is limited, making a chain with two weak links.

Not Crowbar. Their singer has twice the talent of your average two-throated outfit. The math works out to four less apt voices shutting up and listening to how it should be done. For example, Linkin Park and Saliva could quiet down, from now on, since we have Crowbar, hahaha.

If you don't already know, however, don't let that joke lead you to believe that Crowbar sounds like some whiny kid doing a duet with Cookie Monster.

The last track, a "bonus" type, with shiny twelve string and keys, is one among few examples of a band departing from its trademark sound, and sounding brilliant in doing so. It's a little challenging, but worth getting into. The usual bass heaviness gets transformed into piercing treble, the skillful vocals claim new territory as their own, and the dark ride this CD takes the listener on has a sunny shortcut for the return trip. (9/10)

The idea behind this Black Sabbath tribute CD is that the contributors aren't the usual suspects. This concept works like a champ, and there are still tracks that somebody with musical tastes narrow and Sabbath-centric could enjoy.

Couldn't even notice Matmos' opening track – "Fluff," or something. Then Ruins do a medley. It is as good as it gets. A query on bandtoband.com shows Ruins are only thirteen degrees removed from

Black Sabbath. I lost count of how many (just bass and drums instrumental) songs they cram in to their track at nineteen.

Grails have a spooky instrumental version of "Black Sabbath." Four Tet makes "Iron Man" a slow and beautiful number, more fusion-y than IDM, another instrumental. No vocalists should try to sound like Ozzy, anyway. Maybe Jason Molina could pull it off, though.

The first act to attempt singing on their cover was struck by the same curse that destroyed the careers of Ian Gillan and Ronnie James Dio. The Curtis Harvey Trio never recorded any songs before doing "Changes," then they broke up. Too bad – it's a nice folk number with male and female vocals, and samples the original's piano at the beginning.

Paul Newman, star of films such as "The Hustler" and "Cool Hand Luke," plays a mathed-up instrumental "Fairies Wear Boots." Not bad for an eighty year old dude! The Anomoanon do nothing for "Planet Caravan," but it's a good choice. Racebannon scream disconcertingly through "Sabbath Bloody Sabbath," making it scary.

And don't let the dumb name, Greenness w/ Philly G, put you off. Lots of bands have made "Sweet Leaf" a song that can't be covered anymore, even during third encores. This version is at least done well enough, with some interesting backwards cymbals and guitar mutation. (9/10)

This Swedish black metal band has been extremely active since its creation in 1998, releasing 5 albums since 2000. Helveteshymner is a seasoned album, stark but rich in its presentation. Similar to Tsjuder, Blodsrit's style is minimalist compared to a lot of the theatrical black metal bands out there, but the main elements are strong and gratifying: blast beats, though sometimes sloppy, are the driving force; melodic, treble-heavy guitars set the tone; and a bloody-throated scream wails through each track in equal parts Swedish and English (at least I assume it's Swedish).

The lyrics are as moody and serious as any black metal band's, the imagery remains general (at least in the English songs), and rather than invoking ancient Scandinavian gods and bringing in a lot of occult themes, the lyrics deal with more general topics – the hopelessness and sorrow of life, welcoming darkness and death, and that sort of thing. There are some interesting themes and images to be found in the lyrics, and they don't venture into the realm of corniness.

My main gripe with Helveteshymner is the lack of variety and technicality. Besides the transition from slow and sludgy to swift and severe, there isn't much change in the songs' moods or diversity in their execution, and impressive fills and solos are lacking. But overall, this is an enjoyable, well-produced album that will be a good listen for most black metal fans. I know it will be in my CD player for a while. (7/10)

XV: the Devil storms out of the blocks with material that would seem to propel the album to the top of what the black metal world would have to offer for 2005. Stylistically, think Octinomos’ turbo blast beat drum machine, and fast picked, long melody lines for a general idea of what Order of the Ebon Hand does. Sure, the recipe isn’t new, but there’s something about the chord progressions and note choices that make the majority of XV a delight.

However, on a few occasions in XV, it’s like insurgents take over the radio station. "Gateway to Silence" is the first such transgression that can only be explained by a battle for control of the microphones and "record" button in the producer’s room: a super cheesy, bluesy sax solo pops up, and just gets worse and worse as it goes on. Maybe Order of the Ebon Hand has been listening to too much Carpathian Forest or Anubi, or something, and thought they could pull it off, too. They can’t. At all.

"Spellbound" is another horrible, horrible track, but this time the entire song is a stinker. The term "song" does describe its structure, but the marriage of a cheesy goth meets indie/college rock clean guitar bridge and the same croaky black metal vox would be a pretty bad thing on its own, but in the context of the rest of this album, it’s an utter disaster.

The good news is, it’s just two songs out of nine that are fiascos. The bad news is, they’re still on the album. So if there ever was one, XV: the Devil is an album worthy of your iPod or other such mp3 player. Get the album and put on all the other tracks. You’ll be happy you did, because when Order of the Ebon Hand keep it fast, blurry, and chilly, they’re one of the best you’ll hear this year. (7.6/10)

Thy Kingdom is pretty heavily Immortal influenced. And by Immortal, we’re talking about At the Heart of Winter and beyond. Look no further than the title track, which sounds nearly plagiarized in spots from an assortment of Immortal tunes. This is the most concentrated dosage, but Immortal riffs and airs changed just enough to protect the innocent can be found interspersed through the album’s seven tracks.

But it’s not all ripoffs. Sanctimonious Order weaves some good atmosphere in parts. And while the riffs give you that general feel of having heard it before by another, more famous band, the flair of the music is enjoyable. However, this band needs more work on its arrangements, for knock off riffs or no, the songs could be structured better to give them more of a lasting appeal. A good album, but not much more than that. (6/10)

This Brazilian grindcore-laced death band will appeal mainly to people with a penchant for the rougher edges of metalcore without the morose screaming. Lively, energetic drum lines heavily infused with blast beats are the driving force behind Subversive by Nature. Saulo Oliveira's style is frantic more than anything, drilling away at beats as fast as he can go. Animated guitar and bass riffs also move through each track with purpose as Bruno and Ricarte yell and growl enthusiastically.

Not every note hits with complete accuracy, but it's good enough. The sheer force and conviction behind the music is enough to carry Subversive by Nature through to the end. Siege of Hate rips through each track like it's on a mission, not allowing repetitiveness or unimaginativeness to creep in for even a second. This band must have an insane live show; I'm tired just from listening to the album. (7.5/10)

"Syncronica" sounds like a black metal timepiece. Their music sounds like a band largely in the Dimmu Borgir school of black metal mixing in happy, folky music, fairytale keyboards, playful chord progressions, goblin circus music, and some flowery piano. The artwork looks like In the Nightside Eclipse, but without all the orcs and stuff. It might be a good metaphor for this band. Bits are good, but it feels like you got lost, missed the boat (or battle), are left with ideas that have been done before, but can still have a decent time of it all. (5.6/10)

This Thralldom CD might not be new, but it may be new to you due to Bestial Onslaught’s promotional campaign. This American black metal band has produced an album that teeters on cult status. Beast Eye Opened to the Sky has a deep and sinister sound, that particular feel of a whirlwind that marks a certain kind of stunning black metal.

The sounds are powerful, yet obscure, as if a harbinger to imminent genocide. Mixed in to this sonic pallette are noises and electronics that further complicate the insanity. Thralldom sounds as honest and dedicated as any out there, and the only thing preventing this album from being highly recommended is a brevity (30 minutes) that is both real and perceived. (7.8/10)

Tsjuder has printed on the back of their new album, "No synthesizers, no female vocals, no fucking compromises!" And this Norwegian black metal trio sticks to its word. Desert Northern Hell, the group's third full-length album since its formation in 1993, is straightforward and extreme, as well as one of the best black metal albums of the past few years.

Besides being intricate, accurate and faster than hell, Tsjuder has eliminated the biggest gripes people have about black metal from the outset: overly tawdry theatrics, excessive repetitiveness and treble-heavy (and otherwise poor) production are nowhere to be found in this release. And what is present is exceptional. From Nag's throaty, curdling vocals and quick-moving bass to Anti Christian's constantly blazing drums to Draugluin's speedy, methodical guitar riffs, the combination forms perfectly the grimy core of black metal.

Each song moves with purpose and intensity from section to section, and Tsjuder excels at both the slow and moody and the fast and groovy (and "Mouth of Madness" even throws some slow and groovy into the mix). The overall atmosphere is as dark as it should be, and when you look closer you won't find the disappointing sloppiness or simplicity that is the downfall of excessively image- or attitude-conscious black metallers. (8.5/10)

This should have been funny. What went wrong? And how the hell does this band expect anything but derision, by prefacing the album title with "Greatest Hits, Vol. Two"???

Looks like a lot of fun at first, but it sounds boring. Kicking in with mid tempo nu-punk – "nu" in how they try to milk simple hooks, without putting too much else in (like energy or innovative arrangements), the scatological humor comes off as weak, to me, when contrasted against other songs with the same subject material.

If the name "Urinal Puck Ministries" doesn't say enough, consider track five, "Poop." The publicity says, "everyone has loved this song." I guess the honor goes to me, then, to be the first on record as not loving it, but it's also too mild to hate.

There's a long history of "toilet rock," and Urinal Puck Ministries seem to want to take the GG Allin schtick to Hot Topic. Allin, dead freak, was not only confrontational, but also both self-destructive AND self-deprecating. Shit and piss aren't cool, they are disgusting.

Singing about shit and piss isn't cool. It's supposed to be done by those who hate themselves. Urinal Puck Ministries put a "we’re so cool" spin on the crap they sing about. Picture, if you will, a group of punk rockers trying to polish a turd...

If you liked stuff like GG Allin, M.O.D., and Anti-Heroes, and also like the pop-punk-metal hybrid style, you'll find their intersection here. If you can't take the mellowed vibe (Urinal Puck Ministries have earned that cliche), check out Milwaukee's filthiest, The Motherfuckers, on Beer City Records, instead. That shit – literally – is real, and the music has the ham-fisted intensity that Urinal Puck Ministries lack. (3/10)

The Burning Season take two different directions with their songs. They've got the forty-five second, Cattlepress sounding song, and they've got the "college rock" stuff, too. Or is it emo? They call it "Acoustic Instrumental," on one song. I call it "skip"... just kidding.

Whatever they put on top of their hardcore foundation, it doesn't take it too much further, but it also doesn't detract from the album as a whole.

The vocals are the weakest link to unifying the not so disparate styles. Most of the screaming and growling is infused with too much sadness, yet it's reeking of the effort to sound as brutal as possible. Done to death already. The singing is just bad. It's probably meant to be that way; there's no mystery to figuring out what these guys listen to.

Bands like this are a dime a dozen, so to set themselves apart from the rest of the Victory roster, each band member thanks "God" in the liner notes. Except for one of the guitar players – what is he, the token atheist or something? In fact, that one dude doesn't have any thanks on the liner notes at all. (5/10)

The US release of Savatage’s Chris Caffery’s Faces features the original album, clocking at over seventy minutes, plus another new Caffery album, God Damn War, as a bonus. Now, you would probably think this is one hell of a bargain; but honestly, a heavy load of average music is still average music, and at times even a degrading overdose.

The musical menu here is consisted mainly of speedy metal guitars, double-bass drumming and a tint of Savatage-styled opuses, as well as semi ballads thrown in for the balance. Caffery surely shreds on his guitar, with a healthy amount of standard metal tricks up his sleeve, but originality is a whole new territory he has yet to explore.

His confused vocal performance is quite unreliable and unconvincing (not as unreliable as Annihilator’s recent release, though), at times sounding as a cheesy attempt to satisfy the lightheaded mass metal audience who will go for this type of exaggerated measures, and always remains loyal to the bizarre lyrics, treating serious matters immaturely, as "Pisses Me Off" demonstrates ("The terrorist pisses me off, with his fucking beard the king of the weird," "Here’s the war, raise the sign, little pussy don’t like it").

There’s no doubt, Caffery is the face of the traumatized, terror-struck America: extremely confused and hostile. Faces, the title of this release, is a mere excuse for the unfocused direction laid here. Sure, it can be claimed that Faces is a manifest of Caffery’s multifaceted personality, but being such a psychotic affair, I doubt Caffery is someone you would be interested to know.

Still, there are times when his unserious delivery works in his favor, and he shines especially on "Bag O’ Bones," which is altogether a fun song that reminded me of Blue Murder’s "Jelly roll" in its lighthearted, acoustic/electric execution.

"God Damn War," the bonus album, is more focused yet still paranoid. As its title suggests, it is even more of a terror/war inspired affair, which draws an undeniable inspiration from the destructive, powerful riffs of Black Label Society, while being moderate in the overall message it conveys.

If you’re in for a heavy dosage of laughable, hard rocking material, this one’s for you. Beware though, for the following two reasons: a) it quickly wears out; b) I doubt Caffery meant it to be as ridiculous as it is.

The self titled album by the aforementioned Blue Murder would be a far better alternate for those of you who prefer their hard rock more intended and balanced. (4.5/10)

Deke Leonard was, during the late sixties and seventies, a key figure in the Wales psychedelic band Man. His previous album was released in 1981, and so he finally decided to record another one, for all those who missed him, with musical contributions from his friends and family.

This solid set of songs finds Leonard delicately coloring his simple yet effective songwriting with surf music ala The Beach Boys, steel guitars, and even a mild reggae influence. But most of all, it is a work inspired by black blues, as its lion’s share is obsessed by either the quest for freedom ("The Thrill of Revolution") or utilizing it to the max ("Guantanamo Bay").

"Palestine," which I have little doubt that it is not a declaration of support of the Palestinians, can actually be interpreted towards both sides of the conflict. One can only blame Leonard for believing what he sees on TV, and he could definitely use one or two history lessons.

Still, "Palestine" and about a handful of other songs here certainly prove Leonard capable as a descent songwriter and performer, without being overshadowed by the lengthy jams and tiresome psychedelia of his original outfit. While this album is far from being refreshing, it is an unpretentious, modest work, hence its charm. (5.5/10)

With the practitioners of highly structured death metal growing in legion, it will boil down to who has the better-produced album that desegregates bands from each other. Sad, but that’s the reality of it. It’s happened once before in metal – death metal in particular – and it will happen again most assuredly. This is not to say that those who fall short on the production end aren’t worthy musicians; that’s the unavoidable point. Many deserving bands will likely suffer obscurity based on the quality of their sound versus their actual worth as players. Take France’s Lifend for example.

This Goth-death troupe, who takes obvious inspiration from contemporaries like Dimmu Borgir and Edge of Sanity, creates a complex disc for consumption, Innerscars. At times they sound like Arch Enemy with their heavy strumming, sometimes like Nightwish with the incorporation of backup vocalist Sara’s dreamy segues and layerings, but with more time signature changes than the score for a gladiator epic, Lifend is a strange entity that falls a bit short due to frequently halfhearted production.

Sometimes the immediate time signatures Lifend slings on a whim work, sometimes they don’t. For example, the opening title song, "Innerscars," is epic in structure and is an interesting listen despite the troubles that pester it. The main reason the song suffers is because the production and timing is off. Keyboards provide neoclassical accompaniment to the Gothic vocals, but alas, the death growls of Alberto overpower the other components of Lifend who try to breathe underneath his smoggy pipes. As a result, they operate confusedly and often miscue themselves.

Alberto’s femme counterpart Sara is a nice break from the disjointed and convoluted assembly of this marathon track, particularly when Alberto switches to praiseworthy clean vocals. Otherwise, their coupling sounds like Beauty and the Beast wrecking havoc in front of a death metal band. Moreover, Alberto’s deep-throated attendant Roberto is so guttural he inadvertently plays fall guy from his near-comical vomiting.

But enough of the slagging.

"Absence" displays far more daring motifs like flamenco guitar and saxophone (!), which deserves kudos unto itself, but more commendably, the band falls into rhythm on this song. The promise of Lifend obviously exists and after the mishmash porridge of "Innerscars," they prove themselves to the point where the music takes precedence in the production.

Eventually Lifend adopts a deeper progression to its craft, building strength on top of Roberto’s weighty bass, while the unit grows stalwart and confident together such as on the agreeable "Shattering Assurance." The acoustic drive to "In Darkness I Bleed" with its sax accompaniment leaves a pleasantly surreal feeling for a death metal record. While the ambitiousness of "Open Wound" reveals a nicely written composition, it unfortunately suffers from production values that make it sound more amateurish than it actually is. The heartbreaking fact is this group knows how to write and write intricately. With more attentive execution behind the console, Lifend has the potential to bring forth the rich, textured sound that is obviously there.

Lifend is not a casual listen, take note. If you can get by the mediocre production, it will still require an extra sampling to dissimilate the heaping layers undoubtedly too cumbersome to absorb on the first go-round. As the band grows on itself with each track, so too will the band grow upon the listener with repeat spins. Honestly, the music Lifend expels is delicate stuff. The lush middle section of "Memorie" alone justifies the reason this band deserves your attention. (7/10)

The band’s own description sums up its essence quite well: post grunge rock with Helmet and Weezer influences. Adding the Stone Temple Pilots to the list of influences might help you complete the picture.

There’s nothing that’s really grabbing on this ten minutes release, consisted of four tracks; just a usual wall of distortion, which suffers from a rather cloudy production, and occasional breaks into quieter passages. There are also light touches of space-rock every here and there (especially on "Jones"), but these are indeed too light and not enough to give a unique perspective into the work.

Still, these Finnish guys rock, and a full album release might do them better justice, as well as supply a lengthier stage for them to develop their ideas. (4/10)

Last month, I reviewed some music from the same mold as The Mighty Nimbus, Backwoods Payback. It got a pass, because they offered their CD free of charge to anyone through their website. That's cool, but Nimbus deliver in every area where Payback fell short. It's the same stuff – stoner, not doom. It's never going to be recognized for originality, but they took all the obvious influences, and made some really good songs. Put it in the changer with all the other stuff, throw a party, and see if anybody cares – at least nobody will complain.

While your place is getting put to good use, compare the different types of partiers to the many bands that populate the stoner genre: Backwoods Payback would be the teenagers, who can't hold their booze too well yet, but don't really try to piss anyone off, since they don't want to get

tossed. EyeHateGod are broke after all these years, so they take their five dollar cup and stay next to the keg until you send them home. Electric Wizard are rifling your comic book collection, and trying to get underage girls to leave with them. St. Vitus are your parent's friends, who used to help you out when you couldn't score. Buzz'Oven are in the kitchen, making a bong out of a pineapple and some tinfoil. Nobody knows how Boris found out about this bash; they can't even speak English, so everyone tries to get them as high as possible. Kyuss are a clique who want to talk about stuff nobody else can give thought to. 13 are all spoken for, but everyone tries regardless. Bongzilla have to spend the whole night going back and forth on runs to hook up everyone else. The Melvins are trying to convince whoever is near to guzzle some cough syrup they shoplifted on the way down here, as a prank. You're going to hate Buzzo for getting those raver kids, whom you wouldn't let in, to actually do it and puke all over your back porch.

And as for The Mighty Nimbus, they're the band that plays in your basement that night. You know they do a fun cover of "Born Too Late," and they get to the party late, too. But everyone has found their own level by then, and it's that much better to have some entertainment. In fact, more people like them than like the band you play in. Nobody asks you to play after Nimbus, which is a good thing, since you've got a big mess to clean up, and the neighbors just called the cops... (7/10)

If anyone has ever thought Monster Magnet is slowing down, these doubts will evaporate once their new album’s opener, "Slut Machine," starts with its wailing siren-guitars. With a new rhythm section to support its crunchy chords and obscene attitude, Monster Magnet is sharper than ever!

As the guitars explode with distortion and radiate with fuzz, the space lord Dave Wyndorf shouts the hell out of his lungs to deliver his half serious rage about fucked up, modern society, with the determination and the appropriate sarcasm that make him drip passion and enthusiasm, ultimately sending you to stoner’s heaven.

The album’s terrific flow should be learnt at hard rock academies worldwide. Starting with up-tempo, energetic songs that catch on immediately with their sex obsession, the Magnets speed up and slow down in the right moments, sustaining a monolithic feel without tiring the listener. Not that anyone can get bored with so much color spread on every track, as even the more straight forward songs hit you bombastically with their dense textures.

Sometime in the middle, "Master of Light" presents oriental leanings that are reminiscence of The Tea Party’s Transmission, and hints at the direction that sprouts ahead, realizing into a full attack on the closing track "CNN War Theme," a brilliant, masterful post-psychedelic heavy rocker that proves, once again, that this intelligent outfit never gave up exploring.

Two excellent additional songs that continue with the hazy, fierce approach await those of you who will get the highly recommended US edition. One of these is a cover of The Velvet Underground’s "Venus In Furs," which adds to the fine interpretations of songs by Hawkwind’s Robert Calvert and Pink Floyd’s David Gilmour; and the other is a remake of "King of Mars" (which originally appeared on Dopes to Infinity) that when compared to the original, shows just how much Monster Magnet has grown in terms of sound, power and executing their vision to the max.

All that’s left now is to conclude: Monster Magnet is more powerful than ever! Now, stop bitching, get out of your comfy chair and go get this stew of tremendous, energetic riffs and rich, uncompromising execution. (9.5/10)

Summer’s End’s debut starts out with five songs that are difficult to distinguish from one another. Having a consistent sound is a good thing, when it's new and unique, or a true classic. Is the technical hardcore genre really a classic, though? Summer's End tag themselves with the label "horror core," but there's nothing horrific in the sound. It's like almost every Victory Records act, but there's far worse things to be like, at least.

The sixth track tries to reinforce the case for "horror core," with Michael Graves of the nu-Misfits contributing a lead vocal. His singing is a welcome change from the monotonous screamo, but it's not better or worse. Still, it's more interesting than the first five cuts. The words can be understood without referring to the included lyrics, unlike every other song.

The last three tracks have more of the best thing about Summer's End, the lead guitars. These tracks are live recordings, and they sound so good, it's like the band wasted money on studio time. If horror is part of their live act, like including films, GWAR-gore or costumes, then they really do live up to their "horror core" premise, and are a must-see.

Don't be fooled by the gimmick, though. Summer's End sound nothing like old Misfits. Somehow, the original band really put the image and sound together in a definitive way. Summer's End have some really cool artwork on the cover, signed Repulsive, whoever that is, but the music can't evoke any fear on its own. The lyrics are so densely worded, it's hard to get the bloody imagery out of them – it's more, "what the hell are they talking about?" A little pretentious: "your hands will never be washed away / and my fears will never reduce in exhaustion"... whatever. (5/10)

This Greek band describes itself as somewhere between metal and gothic (or at least its label does), and this doesn't seem far from the truth. Moody, dark and epic but with plenty of metal elements (double bass by George Kollias, chunky grooves, etc.), Lyssa is a mature-sounding album from a band that has been around since 1991.

Efthimis Karadimas' vocals are thick and varied, and for the first time he has done his own backing vocals for added substance. Although most of his sound is composed of a raspy growl, he is surprisingly versatile at times in his accents and inflections. The guitars fall short, on the whole, and lack the technicality that would really hit the spot. The melodic riffs and sludgy grooves do fit into the mix innocuously, but they rarely take off into an unexpected rhythm or outstanding solo. But Nightfall's overall sound lends itself to this type of performance, generally staying at a swaying, comfortable tempo without pushing it. Lyssa is a decent album, and many of the interludes sound promising, but it may leave you craving something more substantial in the end. (5.5/10)

If you’re a habitual reader of this zine, you might have picked up on that I’m a drummer. I’ve always loved drumming, even far before I started playing. I have this core, personal belief that drumming needs to be a physical effort for it to be worthwhile, and metal drumming seems to be the best thing as far as this is concerned. I think I also like to believe I can write some kick ass songs. It’s here that you should know I can’t play a single note on a guitar or any other tonal instrument.

I suspect I have this (at least subconscious) perception especially when I dream. I make up some fucking AWESOME music when I’m asleep. Seriously, it blows most everything away. Killer, technical rhythms and changes, I can’t believe I’m so much farther ahead than all the bands’ whose CDs I get to listen to. Problem is, I can never remember what the music is after I wake up.

Epoch of Unlight’s music is the closest thing in real like to that music in my head. I can feel it. And it’s no surprise, as the band’s drummer, Tino LoSicco (can this really be his veritable name?), writes most of the songs. Stylistically, Epoch of Unlight has always been some mix of super technical thrash and black metal. The Continnum Hypothesis continues in this tradition exactly where the two previous records respectively left off.

A lot of things have become apparent. One is that Epoch of Unlight uses a really narrow sound on purpose. We’re not talking about a thin sound, with no bass and all treble, but rather a sound that sounds like it’s all been compacted into an elevator shaft. It’s got the top and bottom, but there’s no room to breathe. Why the band persists in this decision is a mystery to me, anyway, but it is their sound, and an Epoch of Unlight record is very recognizable...

The more crushing realization is that my visions of grandeur at my own music in my dreams are more along the line of delusions of grandeur, kind of like the time I dreamt up the most amazing song ever, only to realize later that the entire song was made up of the word "blue." I suspect that if I could "re-hear" the technical marvels that I thought up in dream, that the best I could hope for were some neato parts that would be nothing more than that; parts that I couldn’t play, incidentally.

LoSicco and his band could play them, though. These guys are amazing. Super technical all the time and they pour it on like there’s no tomorrow. But the big problem is the same thing with my dreams. It’s a big, fucking spastic mess. Epoch of Unlight have never been able to write a proper song over the course of their three albums, and all signs point to their not caring at all. This is one of those bands that feels that being the most technical playing that is always pushing the envelope is a viable form of song writing. It’s not.

Of course it’s a judgement call. Bands like Cryptopsy, Martyr, or even Absu (the ultimate trash/black metal hybrid in the world) have very dense song structures and technicality all over the place, but there’s something about their music that makes you want to come back, sit down to the album and have another layer peeled off before your ears. Epoch of Unlight generally gives you a headache. It’s probably in no small part because of their sound and the tuneless, mediocre vocals, (which are entirely too prominent, at the top of the skinny sonic tower) but it’s mostly because their approach is technical without being musical.

It seems contradictory to say Epoch of Unlight don’t suck, but their songs do; but it’s the truth. Take most any of the individual parts on this or any other Epoch of Unlight album (except the vocals), strip away the stupid production values, and you’ve got some potentially killer material, but something about how it’s all seemingly thrown together for some manner of wizardry’s sake defeats the purpose of trying to enjoy it all. The Continuum Hypothesis is definitely not recommended, as you can find technical music that’s all that and musical, too, (how about Death?) but at the same time it’s difficult to give it less than the score that it's getting, based on the instrumental talent Epoch of Unlight possesses. (6/10)

"Oathean" kind of sounds like a three year-old trying to say "ocean." That’s more than a smart-ass remark; it’s a reflection of who this South Korean band are and what they’ve accomplished with this record relative to what’s going on outside of their country’s metal scene.

South Korea is way behind in the metal scene from their neighbors across the water, Japan, and ever farther behind than the rest of the world. So an album like Fading Away into the Grave of Nothingness is a nice progression for this country. Seeing a new scene blossom is a fine thing, but you don’t buy albums for philanthropic reasons; you don’t lower your standards by going easy on a band because of where they’re from.

Fading Away into the Grave of Nothingness is a barely decent, sort of black metal album with some Swedish flair to it, and whose melody comes largely through the keyboards. If you’ve heard some really obscure Japanese black metal like Magane, you might know what to expect here: quirky, rather meandering material that is rather far from being nailed down. Unlike Asian bands like Shadow, who are total ripoffs (albeit perhaps even out-doing their idols), Oathean does have some semblance of their own style, and truth be told, the keyboards often have some good atmospheric tonality to them, as does the clean, female singing, especially during the sections in Korean.

However, when these parts (especially the singing) are put together with the harsh male vocals, they sounds goofy. And as nice as the keyboards can be, they’re much too loud, making the balance seem all the more amateurish. Most importantly of all, none of the songs are particularly noteworthy in a good way: they’re all fairly passable and unremarkable, with a few cringeworthy bits as far as the aforementioned vocal interplay (and over-reliance on the keys) is concerned. Sadly, things only get remarkable in a negative way with songs like "The Money from the Tobacco Pouch," which is about as good as the title makes it sound, which is an "evil," black metal version of a the music from a baby’s mobile (you know, those decorative things that dangle over a crib and spin around to entertain the child).

You might get Oathean for curiosity’s sake, but be warned. Look, if you want to check out an album purely because it’s from an infant scene, why not go with Thailand’s Deathguy? (See our review). At least that one’s a grower. (5/10)

Black Tape for a Blue Girl has been around for a decade. Halo Star is their ninth album (!?). The first tune, "Glow" shows promise. This exotic, all too brief tune is an instrumental – a quirky combination of mid-eastern drums and folksy, floating, classical violin.

Quickly following, however, I feel a Quaalude fog coming on. There can be creative redemption in a good downer but my next realization just simply hurts. Both the male and the female vocalist are also tone deaf. I’ve heard there is less reverb on this album than on previous Black Tape offerings. It’s hard to believe because this is so wet with reverb I don’t know whether to mop it up or just go for a swim. Someone might have done these two a favor and suggested a vocal pitch adjuster instead.

The music is smoothly and meditatively arranged but as soon as the vocals come in, the music becomes a dirge – a spacey dirge, a self-involved, ivory tower dirge. Is it intellectual or is it an excuse for time to burn in a semi-coma? It floats around aimlessly with these two out of tune singers misleading each other into thinking they are on key. The music slows my metabolism down to a fading flicker. I just might kill myself before this thing is over. (2.5/10)

The introduction is a tad too long (three and a half minutes) and doesn't really go anywhere until about two minutes in. It also opens with what I can only imagine should be a snare roll, except it sounds like a bad German synth-pop intro because of the naked snare sound... but more on that later. After two tracks that make up the "meaty" centre of this disc, there's an outro which also goes completely nowhere. At all.

Material-wise it's nothing we haven't heard before; black metal of the slow kind WITH blastbeats, almost interesting song writing, raspy throat, gritty guitars and all the rest that makes up a modern, "old school" black metal band. There's nothing that comes off as particularly awe inspiring save for MAYBE the last two minutes of the third track. But there's too much potential wasted in the rest of the track for those two minutes to warrant a "this is an excellent track" remark. Plutonium may play well, but only well and not great.

The sound they are trying to go for slightly digital black metal. It would have worked if they had faster material but they got stuck in first gear for most of the 17 minutes that make up this demo. Especially noticeable with the drums (once again the snare comes into play), it would have been perfect if they had gone for a slightly more Anaal Nathrakh approach where such a drum computer sound works wonders flailing away at breakneck speeds, instead it comes off as a tad dorky.

What's left is a bland demo that shows off a band that knows how to play, has potential to go somewhere with their sound but waste it all by writing bland, monotonous songs. If they take it up a notch (speed-wise) then the drum sound will fall into place and they might have a chance to truly show what they are worth. (5/10)

Well, I gotta hand it to these guys. Forget the rules of musical arrangement, mixing, or the mapped stacking of instrumental parts. Josh, James, Jeff and Stefan use their instruments like real toys, like bumper cars, interacting on the musical landscape in a passionate, spontaneous and often just humorous way.

It’s jazz in some ways and in other ways it’s a train wreck. The five pieces are very creative and fun in that loose, self-discovery kind of way. The instrumental arrangements just grow out of themselves without regard for a chorus or a verse, an emotional build or a needed release. The parts just twirl up against each other, like atoms, sometimes meshing, sometimes not, sometimes offset by a part here and there that keeps moving and making a stir.

This is an act of punk jazz – math and chaos in the same melody line. The CD cover is like the music, surprising and irreverent. I particularly like the star map of the heavens superimposed on the NY Times Stock Exchange listings. You arty types will snap this stuff up! (7/10)

Eternal Flight is a five-piece French progressive metal band. They are the band that morphed and reformed from Dream Child (on Metal Blade). In seriously grand style, the fierce, melodic songs of Eternal Flight are expertly recorded and mixed. The cuts often begin with a delicious symphonic twist before they bust into their signature flames.

Gerard Fois gives us the quintessential metal star voice to compliment this highly capable band. Each musician offers a unique stylistic mix of relaxed, sexy and grandly melodic with crazy, hyper tense repression. They are a good looking, well oiled machine that rages together in sympathetic commotion.

I can’t say the cover art of Morphoenix (iron hand in a glove of steel!) is going to do much for cross marketing. Although certainly a well rendered image, the eagle headed superman, with a dangling monkey skull as a codpiece, is pretty restricted to the adolescent male imagination. Positive Rage is a super fine, super rich offering of fabulous musicianship that deserves wide range appeal. (8/10)

First, a brief history lesson for those unaware. In their inception, Samael was a fairly typical black metal ensemble prone to increasing fits of diversity and experimentation through their first three albums. Something clicked, or snapped, in the band’s collective mind and album number four, Passage, dropped on an unsuspecting world in 1996. A left field and seamless mix of black metal, synths and programming, Passage created a virtual sub-genre unto itself and placed Samael at the tip of the metal summit: untouchable.

The follow up, 1999’s Eternal, suffered by comparison to the lofty heights scaled by its predecessor. A solid album, basically a continuation of the ideas explored on Passage without building on them. A worthy release, but falling short of essential by more than a few feet.

Cue to 2005 and Samael returns from the hinterlands after a six year hiatus. Would they recapture the ears and imaginations of the masses with another unexpected offering or continue to mine the same vein and produce solid, if familiar, fare?

Or would they arrive wrapped tightly in the cloak of Rammstein? Yea, no kidding. Eschewing all originality, Samael has rolled over, content to ape Deutschland’s finest techno-metal arsonists. Reign of Light, they call it. Might as well have titled the disc Rammstein Lite.

Frustration abounds here. For all the good things found – heavy riffs that incorporate middle eastern melodies, odd effects lurking in the background, the occasional ominous undertone – there’s an equal amount of ideas that should have never made it past the four track demo stage: an ill advised predilection towards simple techno beats that teeter sickeningly over into dance music territory, nu metal rhythms and vocals that stray much too close to the land of hip-hop are the chief offenders. Reign of Light doesn’t work for the reasons that Passage did; the ingredients don’t take to one another this time around.

Above all, the band just seems tired. Or maybe they’re just bored with metal and aren’t ready to take the leap and become a full-on techno band. No shame in that as long as they strive to be inventive or unpredictable. Embrace it, if it will avoid turning out something as tepid as this again. Reign of Light is but a shadow of what Samael is capable of producing. (4/10)

Absentia Lunae is a hungry, driven black metal band from Trieste (northern Italy). Their sound is buzzing and suffocating, with ultra short, fast drum hits all over the place and chilling, death-like vocals.

It’s their first full-length album, and Absentia Lunae would be the first to tell you that it’s flawed. Certainly, it is. This is further evident after a full, powerful sounding intro sample that segues into the band's material, which sounds raw and cult, but definitely a step down from the powerful introduction. But the band is still figuring out itself and the tools it has at hand. The heavily triggered kit (which the drummer tells us in our forthcoming interview is seven drum kit sounds at once...!) still needs a little tinkering, and the clarity and sonic presence will be things that the band will improve on in the future.

However, it’s the material that makes Marching Upon Forgotten Ashes worthwhile. Climaxia is the name that the band’s sole guitarist (on this recording) goes by, and it’s a credit to her both as a woman in a male-dominated genre as well as a black metal guitarist that she writes material that is original.

We recommend Absentia Lunae to all fans of black metal. It’s always exciting to get in with a new band on the ground floor. Should this intelligent, ambitious group stay together, they’ll be releasing some truly great albums. As it is now, Marching Upon Forgotten Ashes is a fine piece of work. (7.3/10)

Raise your hands all of you who have heard of Novembers Doom. One, two, seven…Ok, fine. Now let’s see hands of those who have actually heard Novembers Doom. Waiting. Patience. Cue sound loop of crickets chirping in an empty field. Right. The point exactly. They may well be the most known unknown band that no one knows about. Still here? Good. Then drop your two for $1.69 taquitos from 7-Eleven, sit up and pay attention because this ignorance is bordering on criminal. This must change. Why? Sit down and take notes.

Simply put, with The Pale Haunt Departure Novembers Doom has let loose a crushingly heavy slab of ethereal mass on world ill prepared to deal with ramifications. This is Godzilla vs. Tokyo round 59 and Tokyo is about to get leveled. Again. The band integrates a few base elements of the metal canon with such ease and grace as to cause scores of pretenders to rethink their approach or question why the hell they formed a band in the first place.

There’s an inextricable melancholic air permeating The Pale Departure. The songs are wrought through a doom laden mold cast with hints of death pulled through an aggressive goth looking glass. Mountain sized riffs are tempered with placid acoustics and gentle choruses. Melodramatic passages edge forward tentatively, blindly unaware of the pulverization waiting behind the next measure. What lifts this out of becoming a downtrodden woe-is-me fest is an underlying sense of hope; both in the surprisingly upbeat and reflective lyrics and the abundance of rousing breaks, melodic hooks and tempos that often leave no time for self absorbed reflection.

The trick to this is that Novembers Doom never allows themselves to become mired in one mode for too long, knowing just the moment when to switch gears. Fluidity is the key as sections blend and separate, split off and reform like some primeval organism operating on intrinsic knowledge. And what’s paramount is atmosphere, a sound pregnant with shadows and foreboding yet incongruously lush.

Enveloped in the hold of The Pale Haunt Departure, one is dropped into a desolate landscape of dark beauty, traveling on foot through barren fields that stretch for miles, pausing only to bask in splashes of pre-dawn light washing over withered trees scattered intermittently against the horizon. (8/10)

As technically impressive as the progressive metal genre is, it’s plagued with the same issues of plagiarism that scenes in which musicianship is not held in so high a regard have. Guys that are amazing players that make up bands that are shameless Dream Theater rip-offs are a dime a dozen. So it’s a refreshing change when a band comes along that does its own thing, and exhilarating when that thing turns out to be thoroughly enjoyable.

One such band is Finland’s Manitou. Sure, you can hear which bands shaped their style: Iron Maiden, Queensryche, Dio, yes, even Dream Theater, but this is no plagiaristic album. Simply, Manitou is an interesting mix of old school heavy metal with many progressive metal elements: fast keyboard riffs and double kick drums, and classical harmonies to go along with some bluesy scales in other places. Manitou’s singer has a deeper voice than most in the style, and it conveys the lyrics exceptionally well.

Most importantly of all, the songs on The Mad Moon Rising are finely and intelligently crafted to be original while at the same time being immediately and subsequently endearing. This album cannot be recommended enough to progressive, melodic metal fans. (9/10)

Need a break from the unrelenting death metal and wintery strains wafting from your black metal collection? Looking for something more than a little pretentious? Ridiculously epic song structures compacted into 3-5 minute songs? Vocals that delve head-long into renaissance fair terrain? Pomposity like it’s going out of style? Wheedley guitar bits? Uninvited and minute incursions of brutality? Soaring arcs of emotive grandiosity that’ll bring a lump to the throat or pull arms towards the heavens in triumph? All things fey? Everything twee?

No, no we’re not talking about the latest Borknagar album. All this and more is brought to you by the good kids of Divinity Destroyed. Honestly, this shouldn’t work for so many reasons but the album has that unexplainable x-factor which steers it clear from collapsing into a ramshackle heap of portentous detritus.

Maybe it’s the musicianship because the playing is just too good to dismiss – tight, proficient and weighty despite the pervasive foppishness. Perhaps it’s the vocals – a rollercoaster ride of dips and ascending crescendos capped with out of nowhere death growls; Mark Ward’s voice should, repeat, should, have you scrambling towards eject when you’re not convulsing on the floor in epileptic fits of laughter, yet somehow your finger never reaches the button. Possibly, quite possibly it’s the underlying sense of humor. Really, no one, not even five by-products of an expensive east coast education can be this seriously affected. And when you’ve got a bass player who goes under the nom de plume of Sgt. Proft and sports a combination of ski cap, Thor’s hammer pendant, dog-tags and a "my dog just died" grimace in his promo shot there’s an undeniable tinge of irony at work here.

Clear thirty minutes from your busy schedule, drop the blinds and double check the locks. Revel in the ludicrous grandeur that Eden in Ashes wants to impress upon you. It’s alright. Relax. No one has to know. (6/10)

More often than not, death metal bands, especially the really extreme, technical ones, get better with age, experience and knowhow. Lost Soul is an unfortunate exception to that rule. This Polish band’s debut album, Scream of the Mourning Star, was a thrilling album that we thought sounded like Vader meets Morbid Angel. It had catchy songs, engaging solos and memorability galore.

So the hard to come by second album had us all excited. Truthfully, we can’t even remember what it’s called. We got it, listened to it once, and it’s still sitting on our CD shelf. Sure, it was impressive and well done, but bland in comparison to the debut.

The third Lost Soul album, Chaostream, is a case of sacrificing good music for extremism. It’s probably true that Chaostream is the band’s fastest and most brutal album to date. It might even have the best production, too. No argument there. Almost certainly the musicianship is at an all-time high. And no one ever doubts the powers of the Polish death metallers.

So all this is true, but why is the album bland despite all this? For one thing, it’s mostly blast beats with very repetitive riffs. Stylistically, things have shifted away from Vader’s simplicity to more of a Behemoth style, while retaining the Morbid Angel-isms. Speaking of which, Lost Soul does slow down for one track, which is ironically the worst song on the album as it’s yet another rip-off of Morbid Angel’s "Where the Slime Live."

But we’re still recommending this album, albeit barely. Why? Because there are ample amounts of fans out there that will love to get their hands on another smoldering Polish death metal album. And if you love this style, go for it, but certainly not if you haven’t gotten Behemoth’s Demigod yet. (7/10)

Die Apokalyptischen Reiter has always been a silly band, yet one who can seemingly toss off glorious bits of metallic goodness without a moment’s forethought. This forms the crux of the band’s existence and, hence, the predicament they’ve gotten themselves into: The silliness ultimately detracts from what could be one monstrous band.

There’s certainly a place for humor in the metal world; enough of it is unintentionally humorous in the first place. In the case of Die Apokalyptischen Reiter, humor doesn’t have to go out the window, but it permeates the song structures to such degree that it breaks them down into great sections broken up by a lot of nonsense. It’s like having a study session with the class clown who also just happens to be a mathematics whiz. His patient explications of quadratic equations and null sub-sets casually interrupted with excruciating one liners and pratfalls; you put up with it because you really need to pass that mid-term.

Samurai is an unpredictable racket, throwing a prominent NWOBHM influence in with icy Nordic blasts and textbook inclusions of things particularly Germanic. It begins promisingly enough with "Silence of Sorrow," a Gothenburg-driven pounder underscored by gentle keyboards and revelatory vocal breaks. After that, well, the jokes start. "Der Teufel" roars out of the gate as a mighty blackened death beast only to be cut off at the knees by a chorus ripped from the seams of a Broadway show. The violent intensity of "Per Aspera Ad Astra" devolves into a beer hall sing-along and never finds the space to recover.

Where Samurai distinguishes itself is when the jokiness transcends to flat out oddity. Not necessarily great but neither is it grating. "Eruption" is Motorhead cleaned up, spit shined and spritzed with electronics. Indie rock gets a makeover in the forms of "Die Sonne Schient" and "Roll My Heart." The former with a catchy as hell chorus commingling with deep chested grunts while the latter takes the power metal meets hair metal genius of Iron Fire and infuses it with aggression, a Viking chorus and melodramatic piano and vocal tandems.

Involving, sure. The tracks on Samurai will keep you guessing but at the end of the day though you simply want Die Apokalyptischen Reiter to stow the wacky hijinks and get on with the business of rocking. (5/10)

This is just blugeoning bass and drums. Really BIG death metal bass tone with Beherit style multi vocals, that reminded me, general

stylyewise, of Axis of Advance, Morbosidad, and really any death metal band that I couldn't hear live because of muddy, shitty sound. It's got an

unhinged fury about it. Great, expoding drums.

One barely notices the absence of guitars, except for when the solos come in. Which is to say guitars are on this CD, but they only appear for GUITAR SOLOS! Guitar solos of the Kerry King on crack variety: super fucked up, faux shredder-y and inept, or solos like that which composes the finest moment on this album: the ONE NOTE solo on the song "Blood Annihilation."

Anyway, I didn't know what/who this was; it reminded me of that whole Axis of Advance / Blasphemy Canadian scene that I know hardly anything about. I called my friend/bandmate Todd (aka Todmeister, from Triumph of Sodom) who probably would know more about it, which he did. I was right, it was Canadian. Todd gave me an earful about black metal skinheads, some Conqueror Manifesto, Pete Helmkamp being from Kansas, and Order from Chaos.

The next day I receive the following message from Todmeister, on my voicemail:

"Hey there, this is Todd. (ahem) I, Um, I, I... Don't ask me why I did this, but I made a flow chart, um, showing Witches Hammer to Blasphemy, Orders from Chaos, Sacrementary Abolishment into Revenge, Axis of Advance, Conquerer.. anyway, like all the people they share and stuff, all the relationships. Anyway, I printed it out, so, (nervous giggle) you can have a copy if you wanted some night. Yeah, bye (hangs-up)."

The flow chart turns out to be this:

http://users.lmi.net/drtboi/canada.html

I call him up again.

Me: Why did you do this?

Todd: Uhh... I don't know, cause I'm a nerd, I guess... I love charts.

Me: So, what is this?

Todd: It's a, uh, chart of those Canadian bands and all their connections... Ross Bay in particular... Wait, Are you interviewing me?...

Me: Yeah.

Todd: ...I don't like that.

Me: Deal.

Todd: ...Did you like the Revenge record?

Me: Yeah. I think it's more novel than anything else. There's not enough going on to be interesting through the whole record. But I like the idea of it a lot. The concept's cool. (7/10 for originality and awesomely executed one-note guitar solos.)

The second release of Uruguay's Requiem Aeternam reveals a truly outstanding potential. Although basing their album upon a rather superfluous and apparently redundant concept, they prove an ability to provide, at times, a performance of exceedingly rare, effective prowess, taste and originality. Still, a few flaws provide Philosopher from reaching the peaks the future may hold for the South American trio.

However, the trite lyrical themes are compensated by the impressive qualities featured on most of the compositions. The band features an eclectic amalgamation of different forms of expression, ranging from aggressive screams to clean (quite amateurish) vocal harmonies; from atmospheric clean guitar parts to brutal, dissonant riffs. Each serene passage may be suddenly invaded by a torturing presence of anguished compelling force; Innocence mid-tempo parts are suddenly interrupted by (rather bizarre, frankly) bursts of disassociated blastbeats.

Usually these differences are synthesized into a greater, coherent whole of submerging atmosphere. The compositions are of palatably epic nature, featuring all sorts of mood breaks and rhythm shifts – yet never sounding forced or unnecessary, always serving a purpose dictated by an artistic motive. Due to their imaginative nature, they often manage to present the listener with an associative emotional space that he has been unfamiliar with so far, exposing him to a plethora of new ideas and themes. Even if still remaining far from capturing Kierkegaard or Nietzsche in a nutshell, this is still a greatly impressive trait, usually characterizing only truly notable pieces of art.

However, Requiem Aeternam's great potential has obviously not yet reached its final fulfillment on their recent release. Be it due to a commercial decision or simple light immaturity, the band's construction of climaxes notably lacks the required gradual evolvement and endurance. Most of the pieces thrust one from one emotional peak to the other, not allowing the proper, steady process of building the conceptual edifice. Thus, although of the thematic coherency, many of the compositions sound a bit too impatient (not to say melodramatic), not fully applying the effect of the high quality of the musical material itself.

So, although featuring some fantastic moments of musical brilliance, Requiem Aeternam are still not to be considered a ripened band. However, even if a conceptual honing is obviously required both on their compositional and lyrical levels, Philospher is still highly recommended to every fan of challenging, extremist expression. (8/10)

Rotting Christ have been around for quite a long time. An examination of the releases they have produced throughout their career, nowadays nearing its 20 years mark comprises, more than anything else, a reflecting mirror of the ongoing trends of action in the world and market of metal. What about change and regeneration, you ask? Bah! who needs them/ anyway?!

An overview of the Greek local metal idols' discography will reveal that, in the sheerly compositional aspect, the band has remained rather stagnant. In terms of melody and harmony, the different pieces the band's leader Sakis has produced throughout the years do not vary significantly one from another: the same mid-tempo, atmospheric, usually tonal melodies, accompanied by his whispering growls and murky narrations desperately (and sometimes successfully) attempting to sound evil, at times replaced by a simple, yet effective, semi-aggressive guitar riffing.

Thus, having the musical factor rather stable at its lack of progression, one may be able to reach some interesting insights regarding the different eras of extreme metal: just examine how Rotting Christ sounded at the time, compared to their other albums. Have you noticed any differences, these mostly stem from the current conventions of the genre, not any significant change of the band's creative sources. How comforting and reassuring is the steadiness! Sakis remains Sakis.

Long time fans of the band may be glad to hear that, in this aspect, Sanctus Diavolos features no significant deviations from the usual familiar characteristics (not to say formula). This time, we may learn that the current Metal scene compels bands to apply great production, incorporate all sorts of keyboard gently experimental elements, and attempt to sound like Therion.

So, we have the usual Rotting Christ merchandise, fashionably colored with costly productive stunts and shallow chaos in the background. Fans of the band will probably love the album, others will maintain their previous opinion about it. Sanctus Diavolos is not an album to alter anyone's inclinations. (5/10)

review by: Roberto Martinelli

I agree with Rod’s overall assessment of the album’s worth. I do think that Rotting Christ is desperately trying to be better by being more. There is more fluff and flash on Sanctus Diavolos than on any other Rotting Christ record. However, what this hasn’t led to is a recapturing of the brilliance that marked the band’s early output. So to the opinion that Sanctus Diavolos is another Rotting Christ album like the band has always made, I say no. For me, the band took a major turn for the worse after they got rid of their (now re-instated) signature logo, after the release of Triarchy of the Lost Lovers. The style got more goth, then they tried to go back and probably got caught up in trying to be like a Hollywood action movie: always with bigger and bigger explosions and more cars wrecked. Problem is, that’s not what made albums like Non Serviam so great. See this month’s From the Vault for more. (5.9/10)

Not to be confused with the 1974 release of the same name, this one is almost an entirely new issue. Only two songs appearing on this release were on the original release, and one of them was brutally cut. Fortunately, the tapes of the original, full live recording were found and are now released to do justice to this excellent performance.

This double live set captures Nektar at their peak, very shortly after releasing their successful album Remember the Future. The performance is energetic throughout, concentrating on the band’s three latest releases (at the time), with pieces that move from articulated suites that are reminiscent of Yes, to hard rocking jams ala the live ventures of Deep Purple and Led Zeppelin, not forgetting a light shade of space-rock that was an essential part of the band’s essence.

"A Day in the Life of a Preacher" is perhaps the most notable for combining all these elements into one entity, but the other tracks are far from disappointing. While some progressive rock fans will probably be more impressed with the more accurate studio versions of "Remember The Future," "Desolation Valley" and "King of Twilight," the live versions here are most welcomed and will serve devoted Nektar fans well. "Cast Your Fate" is also noteworthy for being given an extremely emotional and dramatic performance.

Sunday Night at the London Roundhouse is therefore a recommended live experience to any thirsty Nektar fan, as well as to anyone who will go for a hard-edged introduction to some of the finest works by this band, or to classic progressive-rock in general. (8/10)

This new anthology, which lasts just above seventy minutes, is far from summing up the solid bass player and hard rock persona that was Greg Ridley, who sadly passed away at the end of 2003. There’s no doubt though that Angel Air did its best to execute this honestly intended tribute to the man, in a world full of copyright controlled material.

The accompanying booklet is detailed, covering Ridley’s career from its early stages to its abrupt end, thus further enhancing the vacancies in the music which is supplied here. It’s a real disappointment not to have even a single Spooky Tooth number here, and Ridley’s work with Humble Pie is only partially portrayed through the band’s early stages, missing highlights from classic albums such as Smokin’, as well as wonderful Ridley penned contributions, like "Sucking on the Sweet Vine" from the third, self-titled, Humble Pie album.

Still, the music here is timelessly attractive, and the main attraction here is the more recent solo material by Ridley, which proves the man was certainly capable of delivering powerful, bluesy hard rock, with his low vocals that grew thicker with time. (6/10)

Usually when there's a struggle to find something to say about a band it's because they're boring and blah. Here there's plenty to say but where, oh where to begin? This Philadelphia band has been together for 10 years, putting out a couple demos and playing many shows with many "big name" bands, all without being signed. Engulfed by the Swarm is their first label release and job WELL done.

Poletchrist is categorized by whoever out there decides what band should be in what genre as "blackened death metal," but that description leaves much to be desired. Yes, they've got the speed of black metal and the aggression of death metal, but there's also a tech death feel, progressive and jazz influences, melodic, almost ballady breaks and intros on some tracks, synth/keyboards in some places, growly death vocals, clean vocals sprinkled here and there, odd time signatures and rhythm changes... there is simply TOO much depth here to go into. If you're tired of average, cookie-cutter bands that are all alike, Polterchrist is definitely for you. It's an eclectic collection of styles rolled into one fantastic album. ESSENTIAL, period. (9.9/10)

Testament's music stands on its own. This DVD just proves that you can take any good songs and make a crappy video with them. There's also live footage, which would have been great if anyone had bothered to take the sound off of the board, instead of using shitty camcorder microphones. Not being able to hear enough due to the thin sound makes watching the live footage an exercise in frustration.

The concert footage shows a band performing at their peak, and there's some funny backstage antics. They aren't so great on their own, but serve to liven up the boring talking head parts. The live and backstage parts could be compared to Cliff 'em All. The sound is probably worse, but the backstage stuff is funnier.

Seen Between the Lines is actually a reissue of a 1991 video. Testament completists might want a DVD edition, with a little text biography that documents the band's history up to the present. Fans might want the four old videos, for "Nobody's Fault," "Practice What You Preach," "Souls of Black," and "The Legacy." But those videos are very much of their time. It's hard to find something in these videos that could be worth watching. Testament are about the music; it's not Twisted Sister or anything. They could have done better with a DVD comprised fully of a closeup of Alex Skolnick's left hand, as he shreds. Seen Between the Lines has very little of that.

It's too bad there's so little of the usual DVD extras. With all of the great musicians to have been a part of Testament, there's got to be more live footage out there. What you get, instead, is "Dinner with Testament," and some other superfluous footage from their Japanese tour. (5/10)

The six out of ten this debut gets comes with a warning: the whole thing is about seven minutes long, and its card stock promo sleeve has a UPC on it. That suggests it might cost more than it's worth, but there is nothing out there on price yet. All I know is that it ain't free, because free promo CDs don't have barcodes.

Aside from that, the whole package is the digital equivalent of the vintage seven inch vinyl EP in so many ways. Five songs of old New York style hardcore, which is nothing like the technical headache that gets the hardcore label nowadays. The sound quality is on a par with bad vinyl, too. That shouldn't matter if this is your bag. It's all about blowing off steam, and it sounds cool.

Nothing gets too metallic or melodic – On the Outside really stick to the tried and true, but that works. The vocals aren't growled or sung in some wimpy manner, they're all pretty much angry shouting. No rap, no spastic blastbeats, no noodley solos. Not every departure from the

late 80s hardcore cookie cutter was lame, but all of those offending characteristics are left off of this CD. Sometimes it seems like whatever was good about that music has been forgotten, but On the Outside bring it back. (6/10)

A good Maelstrom reader took the time to leave us a note in our guestbook about the glaring absence of any coverage of the seminal Greek black metal band Rotting Christ. He had a point. The counterpoint is that Rotting Christ has been lame for years, but once upon a time they made some fantastic records.

The best of them all was 1994's Non Serviam. This was back in the day when all the band members had goofy stage names (Sakis was Necromayhem), and the first band member credit is Magus Wampyr Daoloth, who was highly prolific in one of Rotting Christ’s contemporaries, Necromantia.

Rotting Christ so defined the Greek black metal sound that even to this day I imagine any album that comes from Greece to be mid-paced and with a flavor as close to opposite the chilly Norwegian style as you can get. Non Serviam was the epitome of Rotting Christ’s old and defining sound: a unique, hoarse black metal voice, a particular, medium fast picking style with even more signature chord progressions, and monotonous, again characteristic fast beats that locked onto the picking like iron. There are breaks in the fast picking that open up to melodies and riffs and even vocal phrasings that are unforgettable, even years after hearing this album. Indeed, nothing Rotting Christ has done before or since has the memorability of the material on this album.

Non Serviam also has its own sense of the occult. It might be because the band weren’t trying to make albums as grandiose as they are now (but who are comparatively empty in core content). Non Serviam can’t touch the comparatively infinite layering of their recent album Sanctus Diavolos, but in a way the more cut and dried parts the guitar, bass and keyboard play on the 1994 album is so much more. It’s from a hungry, exploratory soul.

The album Triarchy of the Lost Lovers was what this writer considers Rotting Christ’s last hurrah. Some of the songs on that album are very much in this hallowed style. Also check out Thy Mighty Contract if Non Serviam appeals to you. After 1996, Rotting Christ cleaned up their act, their logo, and got as boring as when Iron Maiden released that first album with Blaze Bayley. Rotting Christ has tried to re-adjust since, but those days are lost, and thankfully immortalized on albums like Non Serviam.