This is definitely one of the more challenging pieces to come across this desk. Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio are very well known to industrial fans, but at first hearing, I found no desire to hear more. O.R.E.’s barrage of synths, moody acoustic guitars, and steady monotone seemed the logical extension of the Swans World of Skin, to which I am devoted. However, the first several tracks of Apocalips initially sounded like the "Sprockets" spoof skit music from Saturday Night Live.

But then something pretty amazing happened: Once the sixth track "Hell Is My Refuge – a Golden Dawn for a Judas Kiss" commenced, I began to understand where this guy and girl are coming from. In fact, the songs steadily improve as the CD commences: the instrumentation is more cohesive, the percussion sounds more tribal and threatening, and the vocals less detached from the overall mix. The final track, "Who Stole The Sun From Its Place in My Heart?" is actually my favorite — the linear, almost Stereolab-simple jam drones along like end credits to a grim-ass film where all the bad guys win, and O.R.E.’s rating increases by at least half. Apologies to the first five skip-overs (that they remain), but the rest of Apocalips wins the darkness. (6.99/10)

The Rituals of Possession in Blasphemy is a split CD with another example of contemporary polish underground black metal.

Thanathron are a two-piece but a history with more members goes back to 2003. Their current members have also done stuff with Beleth and Katharsis. With most amusing nicknames like Vulgar Anal Inhalator, Anal Intruder, and Anal Inspector, they used to spread mayhem in the polish BM scene.

Guess it’s my turn to get a little anal about these "Rituals of Possession" then. The first five tracks are a re-release of their 2005 Hiarra demo with the bonus of two tracks from an April 2006 demo.

The opening track, "Hiarra," hits the nail immediately as we are hailed with an exemplary "Rhaaaaaaaaaaa!!!" I happen to like well done "Rhaaah!!!"s a lot and vocalist Vulgar seems to have a natural talent for it, not being afraid of exploiting this talent to great lengths. In fact, not a song goes by without one of these. So that’s definitely a big thumbs up for Thanatron. What is hard to understand is why the music is put so much to the background, behind Vulgar’s dominance in the mix. I suspect he has a copy of Graveland’s Carpathian Wolves lying around somewhere at home.

The sound quality is very good, but the mix of the instruments is downright terrible. The snare drum is very thin and tame, whereas the cymbals come through very clearly. What was the engineer thinking? The bass parts simply follow the guitar parts. The guitars are a murky blend of trash and fuzz and draw patterns without too much complexity. Overall the music is pleasantly nervous and messy.

The choice of cover songs are seldom to be called original but Thanathron’s rendition of an obscure Infernum song called "The Dawn Will Never Come" is an exception to this.

What will become of Thanathron seems uncertain, as Anal brothers Intruder & Inspector have split with the band in July 2006 (perhaps in order to start up a solicitor’s company, who knows?), so now it’s all down to Mr. Vulgar, I guess. He has since released a recording under the name Nosferatu.

Empheris, from Warsaw, were formed in 2004 out of the ashes of Eris and may well be just another short-lived necro-trash combo.

The Empheris part consists of all sorts: an atmospheric intro, a cover, three studio tracks, a live track and a rehearsal track.

The vocals of Adrian are less consistent than Vulgar’s and range from a deathy grunt to a vicious snarl to an occasional solemn Slavic anthem-style. I find the latter a bit silly, but they chose well to have some screaming simultaneously.

On the other hand, a cover of Venom’s "Lady Lust" featured here can be deemed as incredibly silly. My highly esteemed colleague Larissa Glasser, who is a fervent follower of anything related to Venom would surely agree with this.

"Let’s Kill" is a typical old Darkthrone-ish throwaway ditty with "dugga-dugga-dugga" drums and with guitar and bass riding the same track. It does have a semi-catchy chorus feel though.

"Shattered Desires" was recorded somewhere in the back of the venue and to me it is not quite clear what would make this recording more appealing than proper studio treatment.

"Descending Hellish Avenger" is a rehearsal version of which a proper one was done later on their The Rest Are Remains tape split with Hellish.

Of both bands on Rituals of Possession in Blasphemy, the contribution of Thanatron works best, whereas Empheris merely present a mish-mash of sorts and fail to archieve much of an impact. (Thanatron: 6/10, Empheris: 4.5/10)

Sielun Kadotuksen Sinfonia has everything you need to keep yourself occupied for a while — the sound, the music, the lyrics, the artwork. Also, you can try to find the meanings of the songs or the circumstances in which they were made. But even the sound itself should be enough. It will scare you. That's a promise. (7.4/10)

There’s something not kosher about this album.

The Scattering of Ashes sounds utterly and horribly fake, like it was entirely pieced together in the studio in post-production. Everything from the drums to the guitars to the vocals sound like they are all snapped together on a grid: unyielding, unerring, cold, clinical, mathematical conformity. I couldn’t even make it through a second listen.

It’s not like Into Eternity can’t play. I’ve seen them live and they do a good job. And it’s no secret how the performances on many albums in general and metal albums in particular are polished up in post-production; but The Scattering of Ashes goes way too far. The drums sound exactly like a machine, and all the vocals have that compressed, flattened sheen on them that makes you think they were all pitch-corrected.

I’m not sure I like the direction that popular melodic metal has been going the past year or so. Bands like Dragonforce have brought the genre back to the forefront, but at what cost? Bands inspired by them are also aping Dragonforce’s empty approach to flash-above-substance song writing, yielding albums that make you take notice, but then quickly lose appeal as they reveal themselves to discerning listeners as having little artistic merit.

Into Eternity’s latest record is sadly like this: It seems to attempt to throw together many styles that are currently drawing attention from young audiences, namely melodic, extreme, rippingly fast shred metal and emo. Take a listen to the choruses on The Scattering of Ashes and you’ll hear the sickening treacle of an emo delivery, each and every time. Then throw in gruff vocals that the Children of Bodom crowd would dig, and put in obnoxious high vocals that might or might not draw in the old-school Judas Priest-loving crowd.

Put it all together, and The Scattering of Ashes is an album that attempts to be a little bit of everything, but looking past the bells and whistles, instead ends up being a great deal of nothing. (4/10)

Vhernen’s black metal pulse is simultaneously cavernous, steamy, oceanic and monolithic. S.Y.B.E.R.I.A. throws you into the depths of a vast, preternatural chasm and holds your attention with brooding low chords, disembodied, razorblade vocal rasps, and inhuman, industrial-like black metal drum machine.

It’s little surprise that Eerie Art Records is promoting Vhernen as "funeral black metal," as this album reminds a lot of Urna’s masterpiece, Sepulcral in how the music delivers tremendous energy despite its objectively plodding pace. Like Urna, this is done through seamlessly mixing elements of black metal and dark ambient — the trick with these successes is that neither element takes a break for the other to be showcased; rather, they meld together to form a sweeping, oppressively melodic series of melancholic waves within a fantastic world of deep ravines and titanic cliffs. And the whole thing is over a mere 20 mintues after if begins. Seems cruel. Perfect. (9/10)

Living up to the legacy of one’s forefathers can be a hit-or-miss affair, regardless of talent, status, or luck. Grimfaug’s second full-length has it all. The project manages to hail the grim daemons of 20th century black metal (particularly Mayhem) without plagiarizing.

The two warriors Norgaath and Crygh sharpened their own weapons, and offer up a consistently punishing set of blastmort. Excellent musicianship, hatred of light, and confident songwriting add up to a mist of pure, black metal vomit. It’s been a while since I heard anything so nasty and without compromise.

"Defloration of Life’s Essence also captures a raw, live performance feel sadly lacking in too many other bands. Preview tracks at www.grimfaug.tk, because if you like to turn stones over to see if something truly nasty — even dangerous — lurks underneath, Grimfaug is so worth seeking out. Mind your mother. (8.5/10)

It seems that there is some very good stuff to be found on the Hammer of Hate label. One such example is from the re-formed Archgoat, who picked up the thread after a 11 year hiatus. It features drummer par excellence "Sinister" Karppinen, who also starred on last year’s Finnish take on Six Feet Under named Torture Killer (also with Chris Barnes). Hence it may not be a surprise that there is some serious death business we’re talking about here.

Yes, with the punchline of "Angelslaying Black Fucking Metal," they may refer to it themselves, because that was the title of an EP released in 2005 with stuff from 1993, but one assumes that with Whore of Bethlehem, one may speak of a new beginning.

This disc is mandatory for anyone who likes Cannibal Corpse. It virtually takes you back in time. For a change, the guitars are not so much fuzzing, but buzzing, which combined with the lush grunts of Lord Angelslayer, has a rather soothing effect. Moments when blastbeats go on the loose, I even get pleasant memories of old Napalm Death. This is deep stuff, not only vocal-wise, but in the overall sound frequencies everything is gloriously downtuned, as if Bethlehem were a place one should locate somewhere in Middle Earth or rather deep into the bloody guts of a diseased whore with putrid rashes all over her body. Here is some inspiration for icon-artists.

In order to tempt and persuade those who’d want to check out Archgoat in other formats first, this release also comes as a specially made, six-panel double digipack in a limited edition (of 1500) with a video CD of Archgoat’s "rituals" in both 1993 and 2006. I’d be very pleased with further developments spawning from their current course instead of their old one. May satanic death be in the future’s hands! (7.5/10)

Henkeen Ja Vereen is a retrospective of Finnish old skool evil stuff in a harsh Horna and Moonblood sort of way. It’s a helluva lotta noize; be prepared! After all, the bandname is Swedish for "destroyed."

The overall "deep into basement" sound (yes, it’s that portable 4-track recorder sound again) may be true to certain underground protocols but the lack of diversity in the recordings made throughout the years makes it hard to get through this CD in one session.

Tracks from two of the sessions (solemnly called "Acts 1-4") have appeared on other demos, but I doubt if many copies have found a way outside Finland. Acts "3" and "4" haven’t been released before, but serve their purpose well, as those few who do have their two previous demos will get six unreleased songs with this version, not counting an outro and the strange but amusing black metallization of John Carpenter’s "Halloween" theme.

In short, this release is a bit like a few pieces from a jigsaw. The most interesting track is track 10, "Kaksitoista Puukoniskua" because it has a clear division between a grim and tense part and a slower — at times even subdued — part with a few very sinister chords that benefit the atmosphere of real misery and misanthropy. And if that weren’t enough, in the following track one will be treated to some good old church organ spookiness. How’s that?

If you like strong stuff and if you are looking for that trve BM feel with production values to match the (darkness of) the music, this will surely be worth picking up for a few bucks. (7/10)

9 Elements of Inner Vision is one of those albums that, pretentiousness aside, just can't seem to hold your attention for much more than some minutes at a time. You know it's good, you know it's ten times better compositionally than half the bands you listen to... but the small amount of ball-grabbing moments is too obvious.

Even while in the field of progressive metal, this Symphony X-minus-the-power band isn't really that technically demanding. The riffs don't sound as prog as they sound mid period Death, and while this is a plus for such a band, the complete dependance of some songs upon tension building powerchord polymeters with palm muted notes can get kind of tiring (simpler terms? chugga chugga stop, chugga, longer stop, repeat).

On the other side, the few times that they attempt contrapunctual dual guitar melodies is when the tightness in the guitar playing shines through. This, coupled with the incredible guitar / drums intertwining leads to some awe-inspiring segments that are impressive but not enough in quantity to hold the album together. Now, when Eyefear decide to play actual metal... that's there where you'll almost certainly stop paying attention.

As mentioned above, excluding those really metal parts, it's really good compositionally. The songs flow naturally, and even the not-so-good parts start and end in a logical way. It's just that they are not interesting enough as to make one pay much attention to then. So we're left with developed but seriously boring songs with small, amazing segments. For example, "The Script of Sorrowed Tales" is really well structured and done, but in the context of the album... it just feels like a random ballad inserted who knows why in the middle of it all, with little to no momentum-building.

The biggest problem doesn't lie in the fact that the album tries to be really metal when it just can't be. The problem is that 9 Elements of Inner Vision should have felt like a concept album, and it didn't. Every song felt like a concept, but Eyefear didn't glue them together well enough, so we're stuck with a varied album containing great songs with some bad parts, and a feeling that every single song is like the previous one. Thanks to that, every segment loses its worth, and it all makes 9 Elements of Inner Vision sound like a mass of riffs and high-pitched vocals. With some polishing, however, it would have been somewhere in the 8-9/10 range, as the potential is definitely there. A new Eyefear album should fix all that, I hope. (5.2/10)

Talking about Light Yourself on Fire based on this short release might prove to be inaccurate. They claim to play power death, something like power violence mixed with death metal. The thing is, it doesn't sound much like that. Yes, it's strongly rooted in hardcore and power violence, but there's no death metal at all in their mix. Even so, their sound is quite particular so if they decided to tweak it a little more in the future it should make them a reference point in the genre.

Light Yourself on Fire is, by all means, really heavy. There's not a single calm moment in the whole release. The guitar tone is about as heavy as it gets, while still being clean enough as to hear what it's playing. The bass is audible (!) and every instrument sounds brutal enough as to give the music a metal edge. Seriously, the production is perfect for this kind of music, accentuating what it has to accentuate, and making it raw where it needs to be raw.

When you see through the heaviness, however, you find some deep flaws. Every single riff seems to be derived from the same place. In fact, you won't be able to tell one song from the other, ever, and that makes Light Yourself on Fire have little to no replay value.

Also, all the instruments seem to be in the same compositional layer. Bass, drums and guitar form one consistent group of completely symbiotic sounds that just goes on and on without change, the while vocals give emphasis to some parts here and there. That means, this record is completely unidimensional.

Also, Light Yourself on Fire uses and abuses repetition to the point of stretching their songs to almost two minutes without actual variation, where they should be just one minute. For example, the first track repeats the first verse some three times... and it's not really that interesting. Well, actually, the only kind of variation they show is filler, such as slow Meshuggah-like riffs with no point in the record at all.

Even so, Light Yourself on Fire is enjoyable... just because it's fourteen minutes long. So, before you start getting bored, it's already finished. But everything here seems to say that if it were longer, it'd surely lose your interest in just some more minutes. All they need is to tweak their compositions to include some more death, as it'd certainly add another layer. For now, however, we're stuck with an enjoyable but deeply flawed piece of hardcore that might appeal on first sight, but it surely and quickly descends into mediocrity if you pay attention. (4/10)

From Canada, the country of incredible indie bands, comes Lodown. Whether Lodown is metal or not is purely subjective. It's definitely not for the standard rock fan, but it's not entirely metal when it comes to being extreme. And it's like that for everything. It's not this, but it's not that either, so it's stuck in the middle for almost every decision.

Not saying Black Horse is horrible, because it's not. In fact, there's not much about it technically bad. The thing is, it's just not fresh. You've already heard it. In fact, you've already heard it multiple times, and maybe you weren't even paying attention. You've heard Lodown in the radio in the random grunge songs, you've heard it in Corrosion of Conformity's most popular stuff, you've heard it in millions of modern stoner rock bands.

Even if you like all those genres, Black Horse doesn't excel at any of them. The grunge parts are totally formulaic, the stoner feels like a lesser version of Nebula, and the straight metal is not so straight at all, as it's seriously nu-metal sounding. And even when they find a good riff, they repeat it ad infinitum (see "Pucifer").

Black Horse doesn't really feel like an album, or even a mix of songs. It feels like a product. Sporting a "Parental Advisory - Explicit Content" warning, a "tougher than you" sound all around; you can't help but think that all this is, in fact, a commercial campaign or something way too prepackaged. Not a single thing about Black Horse isn't marketable: harsh vocals that are still melodic, powerchord-driven riffs of the nu-metal kind, simple verse-chorus-verse songs with normal time signatures, some breakdowns here and there, some calmer vocals, some clean parts. Experimentation? Technical profficiency? None at all. Hell, not even nostalgic value or good musical worshipping?

Lodown just loves staying in the safe side of things. You can feel the indecision, the "should we be extreme or should we be easy to listen to?", almost as if they themselves didn't really know what they wanted to play either.

In the end, Black Horse is a non-invasive, pointless album. It's not ear-shattering, it's not so bad you'll laugh, it's not so experimental you won't understand it. It's a middle point, everywhere. On the other hand, it won't please you if you've heard bands like Nebula before, and it won't make your grunge craving go away for longer than some minutes if you're a real fan of it. It's just there, and it's certainly not gonna change your life. (4.2/10)

It's true. Regurgitate is no longer a pure goregrind band. But that doesn't mean that they suck... or that they've gotten worse. They are one of those bands that just can play whatever they want in their range and still come out as masters of it.

In the beginning, Regurgitate were playing a really noisy brand of goregrind that I have yet to find someone who doesn't love. Then, for their last years before the reunion, they changed to a groove-based kind of grind that was more of an acquired taste than the older stuff, but it was still something that only they could play without sounding like a Cock and Ball Torture rip-off. Now, after the reunion, they decided to play some more straight-forward grind. When I say straight-forward, I mean good ol' Napalm Death and Carcass worship.

The word to describe it would be sick. It's raw even with a crystal-clear production, and the guitar tone just screams out Reek of Putrefaction. But seriously, this is some of the best Reek of Putrefaction worship that has ever been recorded, even if its sound is definitely not as goregrind.

Of course, not everything is Carcass, as Sickening Bliss also has lots and lots of extremely fast modern grind parts with some great blast-beats and beast-like vocals. Then, it also has some groove-centered parts that are, no contest, the best in the whole album. Really, I don't know how many times I've listened to "(We Are) Sadistic Hateful Scum" already, but it's certainly in the high two digits.

The technical aspect is quite similar to Regurgitate’s previous effort: Tight playing, some quite inventive drum beats and quite a lot of complex and fast riffs. In fact, Regurgitate is easily one of the most technical goregrind bands, if not the most technical.

But, no contest, the vocals take the cake. They are inhuman, in every sense of the word. The straight-forward ones are excellent, and those are the least good, so go figure. The distorted-sounding kind is just so fun it seriously blows most pitch-shifted vocals to bits (for some reason, I doubt the vocals on Regurgitate are pitch-shifted).

Sadly, Sickening Bliss is not perfect. As you may have guessed if you've listened to the previous albums, except some songs, it doesn't have that much of a replay value. You'll listen to it some times, then skip to the groove tracks and play them over and over. So, highly recommended to those who really love grind, but to the more casual fan, Sickening Bliss will seem filled to the top with monotony. (8/10)

As a kind of a warning: Plays is unique. Every single aspect of it is new. Every single song sounds different. Even the cover and booklet are different. So, if you like unique bands, continue reading. Otherwise, remove 9.4 off the score, stop reading and go back to your powerchord 4/4 verse-chorus-verse metal.

There's no way to describe Secret Mommy's genre successfully. It's something I'd call "free indie." It's similar to modern free jazz, but without the jazz instruments. Honestly, you can't possibly say more about it without being wrong. Let's just say that Plays is made purely without electrified instruments, so it sometimes has a certain folk feeling too.

But, more than anything, Plays is avant-garde. The instrumentation includes a cello, an autoharp, a baritone saxophone, acoustic guitars, bells, ukulele, bass recorder, a mandolin, and I could go on and on. Certainly, the feeling is that of a modern orchestra. But even so, it's not overwhelmingly chaotic. You won't get the feeling that you're listening to musicians tune-up their instruments, smash violins or anything like that. And most of all, the musicians here are good, they don't just play random notes. Secret Mommy, in this way, has a lot of common with modern classical composers: Their music is obviously elaborate, but they will sound like incoherent string bashing to someone not used to the sound, or not open-minded enough.

As avant-garde as it is, Secret Mommy did actual songs here, but instead of parts you can recognize, every song has a different texture. While "The Tale of a Bird Hit by Lightning" sounds like Nintendo on drugs plus Homework by Daft Punk with IDM elements, "I Can't Get Down" is basically hip-hop redone with post-rock and Sigur Ros backgrounds and quite a lot of pitch-shifting and editing. And it's like that for every song, with lots and lots of abrupt changes and weird little bits that can and will surprise you.

Atmospherically, every song is different too. Some are crazy, almost party music, some others are almost sad, but most of them share one attribute: they are all good for fun/comedy value as well. For example, "Trust Me Cub" is mainly sad piano playing, but over it, hundreds of random noises and weird trumpet playing make it actually either sad or humorous, depending on how you look at it.

If there's one good thing about Secret Mommy, it's the fact that they (or should I say he?) can play absolutely everything in their own way. Plays sometimes feels like a crash course in how every single genre can be destroyed and adapted... successfully.

If you like weird stuff, then this album is absolutely perfect. If you don't, you'll hate it. Easy as that. Now, personally, I'm wishing Secret Mommy spawns lots of bands like this, as it would be good to see indie bands experimenting so much. Or at least, many more Secret Mommy albums. (9.7/10)

Sometimes I wish trance as a whole were more like Terranoise. The genre is just full of bands with totally epic concepts, or who are way too out there (see Infected Mushroom) to really like it. It's a fact, if you try too hard, you end up being cheesy, unless you're really good... or you don't play psytrance. Thankfully, Terranoise doesn't take itself too seriously, so while it's certainly not a top-notch band, it ends up being about as enjoyable as it can possibly be.

This record is part of the mostly digital wave of psytrance, sounding like if it was made with a computer (it probably WAS made with a computer). Thanks to that, it achieves a more clear sound, even mathematical at times. That's both a drawback and a strong point.

While you could say that all psytrance is formulaic and predictable, you could say that in particular about Terranoise. You know every single song will have a really similar bass line. You know that every eight or sixteen bars, a new synth will be added, with a keyboard sweep before it. You know that every 16 or 32 bars, everything will stop and then return as a means to create and release tension. While this is good used with caution, Terranoise abuses it to the point of making it all too structured and predictable for its own good.

On the other hand, the fact that it's clear is really nice to listen to, with no invasive elements to make you press stop. Also, its strong bass sound will appeal more to anyone into anything guitar-based, as it gives it a more organic sound.

Most of all, Terrano Vibrations is a fun album. Yes, it's formulaic. Yes, it's predictable. But honestly, the whole silliness of the samples used (especially on the first track, "Pure Darkness") and the fact that it's easy to listen to it makes it perfect for those of us that are not psytrance junkies. Like said above, it's not invasive, and it's sometimes incredibly catchy making it quite an addictive album. Even so, it makes for quite a nice record for when you want to listen to out-of-this-world things.

It doesn't innovate, and it's nothing that different from the genre's standards, but it's certainly useful to make people understand that psytrance is not just random synth drum beats with random beats. This time, it's a solid album with a big amount of catchiness and silliness, with some seriously good music, too. (7/10)

One part post-hardcore, one part The Mars Volta Deloused in the Comatorium, one part totally insane chaos, Mar is a seriously incredible record. Sure, it's kind of a trend to make rhythmically complex music nowadays, but trend or not, some artists are turning almost dead genres into evolving ones thanks to it. Ultra Dolphins is one of those: they are certainly making hardcore feel more... uh... hardcore. As in, instead of random tough guy "get down, motherfucker!" stuff, we get something extreme-sounding for once.

The post-hardcore / noise rock stuff is mostly Shellac-like, with some short screamo-influenced segments, but not many. So far, just common stuff. However, when Ultra Dolphins starts playing something like Mars Volta, it's full of ball-grabbing moments. The atonal yet melodic sounding riffs are seriously as good as those in Deloused in the Comatorium, even if much more extreme. The result varies from "good stuff" for brief periods of time to "holy shit, that's amazing" for most of the running length. Sometimes, they even delve into math-rock territory... and they are good at that, too.

As if to remind you of how good The Mars Volta would have been should they have stayed on the same path, Ultra Dolphins shows a really similar structuring based on fast theme development instead of verse / chorus / verse stuff. The vocal lines are really particular too, with almost none of the emotional sound of most post-hardcore bands. Even if Ultra Dolphins' vocal style is much more psycho, Cedric Bixler-Zavala fans will feel at home.

Also, Ultra Dolphins isn't your typical pretentious band. Even if they do make complex songs, they don't really show off or attempt to create a weird concept. Instead, they create songs about the simplest of the subjects, such as goats. In fact, this simple approach changes the music a lot, as they usually create the rhythmically complex music with just three instruments, instead of using multilayering and stuff like that. Kind of a minimalistic approach to the genre.

Although Ultra Dolphins are not the best in the genre, Mar is flawless. Even the interludes demand all your attention, and that's really hard to come across in post hardcore (where they usually love their delay... and their weird noises). Highly recommended. (8.9/10)

P.S.: Get it just because of the package, it's absolutely gorgeous.

Take indie, remove all its usual melodrama and add a whole lot of free jazz-influenced rock guitar "riffs," some Ruins and some Magma. I know, you're probably thinking either, "eww, jazz" or, "Oh my God, no! Don't you mix my Sun Ra with those pesty emo teenagers!" Leave those thoughts aside, as you'll love this even if you're a free-jazz purist or an indie fan.

Quarter tones, unfinished phrases, disonnant harmonical relations, lack of coherent structure. Everything they've told you not to ever do in music, these guys do it... for 36 minutes. That's where the part about free jazz comes to play. It probably isn't, but it sounds really, really free, as in totally improvised. The result is actually really positive, but quite a hit or miss when it comes to liking it or not.

It's a fact: This is an Ad for Cigarettes will have you weirded out faster than you can possibly think. And it'll have you like that for as long as you keep it playing. That's where people will be divided into two big groups. The first group will love the fact that it's 100% non-conventional (even the almost normal vocals are incredibly out of place in a good way) and that you haven't heard anything like this before (well, maybe one or two Fiery Furnaces parts, but not really). The second group won't stand more than some seconds of the album. After all, This is an Ad for Cigarettes IS inhumanly weird.

There are some things, however, that just tell you that Winning aren't just kidding around. For example, the whole band can keep up with the constant accelerandos and ritardandos with no problem, and they can make it seem like they are actually controlling the chaos that is This is an Ad for Cigarettes.

That's the one and only word that will tell you how this sounds: chaos. But it's certain, it'll have you wondering just how the hell they came up with this stuff. And it'll also make you wonder if they are too particular for composing, or if they just improvise way too well.

You can't say they have flaws, as technical flaws are a big part of their sound... and that's why we like it. Actually, the fact that it's not perfectly played, and you can hear lots of random note muting and sometimes missed notes, makes it a really fun album. It's sometimes as if you're listening to three people who have never played any music besides practicing their instrument a lot, and were forced to record an album. So, yes, they don't abide by any of the musical "laws" (except some distant relations to tonality here and there) and so they naturally make something new. It all makes you think that Winning is an isolationist band.

If you like new things, even as novelty, don't miss the chance of getting it, as you'll certainly love this. Otherwise, don't even try. (9.7/10)

Wolf’s fourth record of old school, pseudo NWOBHM-styled, hard-hitting, rock ‘n’ roll metal is solidly in the vein of their previous records, and the last couple in particular. So why is it mostly unremarkable?

Who knows? But the unfortunate fact is that The Black Flame is more of the same, and that same is samey within the confines of the album. The formula hasn’t changed hardly at all, so what is it?

It always comes back to comparing Wolf’s work to their debut, self-titled triumph, which looks like will always remain the best album they’ll ever do. What worked so well for that record? Dynamics. The energy and sound followed appropriate peaks and valleys, taking you along a thrillride journey through nostalgia and straight-up, blue collar metal melody and harmony. The album had that epic feel that Iron Maiden’s most noteworthy songs of old had.

The Black Flame finds a tone of intensity and doesn’t waver from that the entire record. With this record, the feel is perpetually switched to "on," and the only way to change that is by turning off the stereo. Some of the songs are good, like "Black Magic" or "Seize the Night," but being engaged throughout much of the album, much less the entire thing, seems more like a chore than a pleasure. Still, if you really get off on old-school, single bass drum, fist-pumping heavy metal thankfully devoid of teased hair and songs about one’s cock, then go for it, although we’d recommend you get Wolf’s albums in this order: Wolf – Evil Star – Black Wings, and if you still haven’t had enough, go for the new one. (5/10)

Napalm Death has pretty much proven that it’s impossible for them to release a bad record. That is, with one condition: as long as they stick to being a grind band.

Smear Campaign may not be the best album that Napalm Death has put out since they re-discovered themselves as a grind band with Enemy of the Music Business, but it’s still pretty great.

But, please, let’s not see any more experimentation than this: Smear Campaign dabbles a bit in a female vocal section, Barney Greenway’s sort of sidling up to clean vocals, a Celtic Frost-inspired song, some Slayer groove, and some forays here and there into keyboard territory — Shane Embury might be hanging out with the current and ex-Dimmu Borgir crowd a little much. But it’s ok as it is here.

In case you didn’t know, Napalm Death’s brand of grind isn’t the more common blast beat fests through 30 second songs. Yeah, there’s lots of blasting, but the focus is more on rough grooves that would be rather punk-like if it weren’t so downtuned and brutal. And as far as groove goes, this might be a bit more in that vein than usual. You like grind and/or Napalm Death? Be sure to get this. (7.8/10)

We’ve been thoroughly enchanted by Eluvium’s recordings, be they cold, cozy piano pieces or fuzzy, moist melodic fuzz and drone. Whatever it may be, the operative word has always been melancholy. Pure, triumphant melancholy. And there can never be enough of it.

Copia may be the best album Eluvium has done yet. It unites what stylistic forays the project has gone into in the past with a result that is a stylistic and artistic progression.

And so, like just about everything that comes out on the Temporary Residence label — a label that is on the surface, anything but metal — metalheads will probably dig it. That is, metalheads that connect to the genres they love through the heavy melody and beauty that can be found beneath all the layers of ugliness. The prize. The thing that moves us. I know I can’t be without it.

If there’s anything that isn’t utterly triumphant about Copia, anything that you reproach, it’s the album’s flow. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, it’s just that the mixture of approaches and stylistic shifts from track to track might make the album seem like a wonderful collage rather than a masterfully woven together piece of work. Still, you can’t say that about each individual piece, and pointing out how the album goes from a track of mammoth waves of melodic drone to a piece that starts out with a sweet piano melody and gradually builds into an all-encompassing symphony of fuzz and emotion. Could it be cheesy? Yes. Is it? No, although the line is very visible. Get this album. (9.4/10)

Both of these Swedish bands conjure a most curious brew. Dimhymn alternate multiple samples with totally raw and blistering blastmort. The third track, "Projektil," is a neat mix of early Neurosis with Darkthrone.

Perhaps the most disquieting moments come with the film-noir trumpet interludes — one second you’re skulking atop the glacier, and all of a sudden you’re puffing on a smoke in some nocturnal, urban cul-de-sac. What Dimhymn lack in focus they make up for with audacity.

Hypothermia are much more straightforward Burzum action, slightly more raw and distant than Dimhymn. Their side of the split crawls along at a more funerary pace, and although the bad vokill mix sounds as disquieting as Dimhymn’s trumpet, the sum of these parts makes for a pretty grim BM release. (6.99/10)

This is about as close to an unrelenting black metal nightmare as you’re likely to get for quite a while. Lone instigator Vuel released 50 cassettes of this demo back in 2001, but this remastering exorcises any aural anomalies you get when you try to crank a cassette at obscene volume.

Layers upon layers of distortion, disgusting vokills, and heavy black metal riffing create absolute crypt poison here. At first I was confused, then intrigued, then aghast.

Admittedly improvised in places, Vuel’s material has unrelenting fury and power. Whatever state of mind he was in at the time of committing this blasphemy to tape, he was spot-on.

Cut. Suffer. Die.

Highly fucking recommended. (10/10)

For fuck sakes, how can you miss with South Korean black metal. This poisonous release contains over 40 minutes of stinky, underground, first Bathory record vomit. Most notable is the guitar work — basic chromatic riffing seethes under layers of cavernous reverb, and for quite a few a the songs the riff starts the song all on its lonesome for a while before the other instruments swoop in together. The bass is totally out of fucking tune and it rules. It’s hard to tell if the drums are programmed or not, but they sound like they real deal anyway so I don’t give a blue fuck what the procedure was. Qrujhuk punishes.

The vokills don’t really stand out all that much. Besides, you know the drill — clenched throat abuse with occasional low Attila Csihar drone, seldom articulated consonants. They contribute to, rather than dominate, the dark mist. The songs are interspersed with a creepy, minimalist, three-part instrumental "Winds of Curse," which gets better as it goes along.

Qrujhuk’s underground ethos doesn’t detract from their musicianship (for the most part, heh), and besides, who can deny titles like "Unholy Forest," "Evil Transfer," or my favorite, "Posers Killer from Hell?"

This is too good even for Kim Jong Il. (9/10)

This EP presents a sampling of what is to come on Thistle’s next full-length album, The Small Hours. The first track, "Send the Owls," gets them off to a good start, opening with plenty of strong, melodic guitar, then cascading into a burst of lyrical explorations of a vaguely woodland theme — old men with axes, the eponymous owls, deer, and more. A solid rock song, even if I’m a bit unclear what the owls are going to do about the goings-on in the woods.

Track two is a short instrumental track, lowering the tone just in time for "Year of Frozen Limbs," a song of regrets and missed opportunities that strikes this reviewer as less strong than "Owls," though it remains consistently rockin’. The closer, "Conifer," contains the best line of the album: "your pronouns are all but ending now." It is also a bit more sonically adventurous, in many ways reminding me of mid-‘90s indie rock — all swirling guitars coupled with hard strumming, leading to some sort of climax. And yet, this does not sound derivative, but still fresh, as if I had rediscovered an old Dig album and put it on to play. (8.5/10)

If asked to describe Echo Helstrom in a short phrase, I would say something like "upbeat sad bastard folkie rock." This doesn’t help much, I realize. this is what I hear: sometimes an acoustic guitar that sounds rather folk-like, sometimes a violin that reminds me of what might get played on Prairie Home Companion — were that old gem run by a bunch of hipsters from Portland. Sometimes a softer sound arises, as on the title track; this sound has a pleasant indie movie soundtrack quality. It’s perfect for the scene during which the main characters think about how they regret treating each other badly, breaking up, and wander through their houses in a daze. A few tracks are nicely enhanced by a female vocalist backing up the male lead during the chorus. If I had a such chorus telling me to "seek help," as happens on "Ocean Mile," I would indeed look into therapy.

"Burning Sun" marks a mild departure from the low-key rock of the first half of the album. For a second, you think you’re listening to a mellow lounge track; that impression isn’t much diminished once the vocals kick in. But the real surprise is the Sade-esque styling of the chorus. I’m unsure whether this association is intentional, but some how it works. By the end of the song, you have departed from Sade territory into a highly melodic line that leaves you completely unprepared for the rockingness of the following track, "Hungry Ghost." Just when you think you’ve figured it out, you get a genuine rock anthem.

So goes the rest of the album, with the notable exceptions of a cover of "True Love Waits" and the closing track, "I See Everything." The former somehow manages to eclipse Thom Yorke in length of note held, and adds a level with a contrapunctal violin. I don’t know that Echo Helstrom brings me to a better understanding of the song, but it’s pleasant enough. "I See Everything" returns to a theme of childhood and to the earlier mellow-rock vibe of the first few tracks on the album, but ends with pure classicism (violin and cello duet) as befits a final track. Overall, a nice experience. (7/10)

review by: Joshua

Thank goodness Passion resides within the Goodfellow roster rather than say, Victory Records’. With a name like that, one might be predisposed to the notion that they’re another "my heart is perpetually broken and you’re all gonna know about it as I scream and pitch a fit because now my eyeliner’s running and girls still hate me" emocore outfit. Whew! Might’ve missed out on some mighty fine metalcore... emphasis on the metal.

And while Passion eschews the whole hard/soft dynamic that has become the great scourge of the metalcore realm, they do, unavoidably, dip into the fertile waters of the At the Gates side of the equation but, to their credit, use it as a building block instead of swallowing it whole and maintaining it as a way of life.

The Fierce Urgency of Now has all the requisite ferocity, compiling layers of dense riffs that careen along at breakneck speed, underscored by rhythms that exist only to pummel and vocals masquerading as a blowtorch. The band’s instruments are throttled, bludgeoned and otherwise abused into submission and they know how to go about the business of wholesale destruction with the best of them. But if you need more than just a quick fix of rage-fueled adrenalin — and let’s hope you do — Passion will gladly set you up with a slew of distractions that meld seamlessly with the damage priority.

Melody abounds, oft subtle, weaving in, around, and between tiny fissures in the riffery, never prettying up any of the tracks but giving them more depth and rendering those same riffs weightier after the melodic vapor fades. Tempos slow down and veer uncertainly. Breaks are employed, some too massive to last long before caving in, others dubiously restrained, like a rabid dog that would chew through his own neck if it would break the hold the leash has on him. The riffs are blurred, shimmering toxically. Sludgy sections grind away determinedly, discordant and pug-ugly, ceding to clean bursts of thrashy speed that dive down into the muck again before gathering strength for another mad dash towards anywhere else.

Solid band. Solid album. A handful of great songs. Passion may not be your new favorite band, but they sure as shit will instill some faith that metalcore isn’t, and doesn’t need to be, a played out force. (7/10)

What comes to mind when you think of a wink? A come hither

invitation? Maybe an unspoken, conspiratorial agreement? Perhaps an intimate gesture apropos of absolutely nothing at the moment? A nervous tic? Dust in the eye? Pirates?

All of those instances as they apply to the action can, at various interludes, apply to The Winks, the band. Beckoning and a wee bit subversive, but if you try to hold them to it, well, you can’t. Think you understand what they’re trying to tell you? Some mannerism will cloud that fragile clarity and force you to study it from another vantage point. And while including pirates in The Winks’ repertoire may be debated by most – not least of which the band in all likelihood – Birthday Party does boast a track entitled "Ship Wreck" so I’m sticking to that assertion, tenuous as it is.

Opening track "Slumber Party Lets Go" sets the tone, telling you everything you need to know right off the bat: disjointed, turned-inside-out pop bathed in sugary sweetness that skirts tasting cloying by virtue of being too damn weird and slippery to get a handle. It’s a gloriously catchy little number thrown into relief by wistful violin, assertive bouts of cello, little-girl-in-an–adult-body by way of Bjork vocals and deadpan male vox lifted from a Broken English or Joy Division record.

Te rest of the album follows suit. In unpredictable and non-linear fashion the band employs the myriad instrumental options at their disposal — aforementioned strings, mandolin, organ, music blocks, glockenspiel, keyboards, programming, flute, even some acceptable horns — weaving a sonic palette where no song trundles along in the direction you anticipated and seemingly random interludes or diversions make perfect sense by song’s end. If you can picture the deceptively complicated guitar and drum workings of Helium by way of left-field folk sprayed with electronica, that’ll serve as the base of what Birthday Party proffers.

You need a few more tastes to whet the appetite? How about a southern gothic lullaby replete with strings and chimes ("Hope So") nestling side by side with the warped vaudevillian strains of "Snakes (revisited)." In "Woolongong," a limping dirge of lost vocals rides on top of deep slabs of cello, subtly morphing into a molasses-thick bit of glitch-core that sounds like Venetian Snares tied up, bagged, and played under water. Final track, "Nolan Ryan" builds on its delicate foundations, growing fuller as the minutes pass, but, to its betterment, never taking on epic proportions. Like the rest of the album, it’s quietly grandiose. (7.5/10)

Hmmm. You like jangly indie pop? Well, that’s fine. Long for the days of college-rock waywardness where (now) elder statesmen REM and Camper Van Beethoven ruled university campuses and snuck onto the air waves? OK, why not. Now how do you feel about horn sections purloined from a cantina in Guadalajara? Tastes of old west twang? Shuffling bits of Cuban slide? (thank you, Chrissie Hynde, I’ll pay ya back next week.) More horns, freeze-dried chunks of ska and string sections designed to induce weeping? And did I mention horns? Check, check, check, check and check?

Vaya con dios, my friend.

But what are your thoughts when all of the above are thrown together in a sticky ball that clings to your ribs with just a little too much urgency and need for your unrequited love and attention? Either your heels are going to kick up a dust storm as you sprint in any available direction or you’re going to pull the gooey concoction that is Until the Sadness Is Gone that much closer in your willing embrace.

"Let’s Not Fall Apart" finds Husker Du kicking around The Knack and glazed with a brightly lit pop sheen, while "Silverjacketgirl" is an uptempo bit of Motown-flavoured catchiness offset by Philly Soul gentility all wrapped up in an infectious chorus, propulsive horns and piano.

Do you want Until the Sadness Is Gone? Depends on how prone you are to an insulin reaction. Diabetics and those of a surlier disposition, tread carefully. (5/10)

Locked in a Vacancy is not so much a metalcore crew as a death metal mob rolled in sweat, dirt and other effluvia, lunging towards you with the same single-minded fury as one of the infected from the film "28 Days Later." Or is it the other way around? No matter. What’s presented for your consideration in It’s Always Darkest… is as potent — and dangerous — as transporting a quart bottle of nitroglycerin down the front of your pants while running blindfolded through a field pock-marked with gopher holes. And you’d be a fool for passing up on such an opportunity.

Of course Locked in a Vacancy has got all the requisite tools: riffs indifferent to your pain, instrumental prowess that would make Ron Jeremy peer down at his organ with remorse, vocals capable of stripping paint, glue and tar from any surface to which it adheres and serpentine song structures that gleefully defy you to try and corral them. So, yeah, Locked in a Vacancy snarls, spits, kicks, punches and eye gouges with aplomb but in these days of snarling, spitting, kicking, punching and eye gouging over-saturation, those implements aren’t particularly distinctive or effective unless you offer some counterbalance.

How does the band do it? Simple, by bending the rules. "Warmongers & Whoremongers" lulls you into thinking you’ve got yet another melodic thrasher on your hands and then crushes that notion through sharp stop-start rhythms, a brief free-jazz interlude, sustained chords and an extended fadeout that devolves to pure noise. "The Death of Aslan" manages to out-Dillinger The Dillinger Escape Plan; fucked up and complicated, the track doesn’t know if it’s coming or going and couldn’t care less whether you figure it out. And it’s a veritable party time on the stomper "American History X," where the drums take the lead on this pogoing, punk rock stormer that dares to be — gasp — catchy, even as the song grows increasingly heavy and the tempo slows to a pugnacious near-crawl.

They play their trump card though on closer "The FDR At Twilight." Mid-tempo, rife with minor key melodies and mournful refrains, all bathed in a patina of fuzz and grime. At ten minutes, it’s the perfect length, evoking a stroll down that Manhattan thoroughfare: The polluted East River on one side belching noxious odors, traffic moving its haphazard pace on the other, graffiti plasters the concrete overhangs on every block as you move through sharp bursts of wind that send trash eddying into a thousand dervishes.

It’s a gorgeously bleak tableau, buttressed against a falling sun casting burnt umber across ten thousand brick buildings while the electronic pulse that pendulums the track to a close moves in concert with the last gasp of daylight that yields fitfully to night. (7.5/10)

Despite having heard a lot about this Israeli band, I've had bland expectations; Israeli bands are known for their being either extremely imaginative and original (e.g., Orphaned Land) or purely copycats, wanting to sound like and resemble everybody else out there, consciously neglecting their inherent sense of individuality, millennia of cultural and historical heritage, and so on and so forth.

Unfortunately, the young band Winterhorde is no different than the latter. It has failed to impress although equipped with a full-line of (real) potent musicians, poised to strike with an abundance of good (or evil?) intentions and enthusiasm big enough to construct something to be remembered.

However, the band has decided to thread extremely over-charted waters whence too many have already passed (Dimmu Borgir, et al.). Their sort of mellow and melodic, synth-driven "black metal" of sorts with an atypical professionalism fails to impress on all accounts; They focus on the technical side instead of the emotional one; they concentrate on conveying the pleasantries instead of harnessing their skills for the sole purpose of constructing barriers of woe and wonder and challenging the listeners… For good, profound metal — or any kind of music, for that matter — does not need theatrics nor does it need skills or highfalutin attitude of any kind. What good music really needs is emotion, emotion and… emotion.

Winterhorde's Nebula lacks on all those accounts, leaving the listener to dwell within a mere Dimmu Borgir clone, albeit a very potent one, but so very barren. (4/10)

Metalcore with balls? It most certainly appears that way; This young Italian outfit — although not re-inventing the wheel by any stretch of the imagination — has compiled a dozen of semi-enjoyable tracks of neo/post-thrash metal with some abrasive vocals and effective, heavy guitar work that might allure to the more extreme metalcore/dual-vocal fans as well as the post/industrial thrash-metal-of-today fanatics out there.

In contrast to the very potent vocal duties above mentioned, there is no real sense in incorporating a second vocal approach; the lame, mellow, inappropriate one, which seems to be misplaced in the context of the rather dynamic and heavy music. That is, really, the main downside of this recording, in addition to the governing, complete lack of originality. (4.4/10)

What would sixteen songs over a mere thirty-five minutes intuitively suggest? That's right, grindcore. However, there's a twist in the plot, unless you insist on calling The Dillinger Escape Plan and Burnt by the Sun grindcore bands, which they are most certainly not.

The Network follows the footsteps of those two landmark bands (as well as other uncommon musical entities such as Brutal Truth and Gorguts’ Obscura) in the sense that it produces what can only be referred to as: progressive grindcore, namely all known styles of heavy music thrown into a sonic cauldron of sorts — among which one may find death metal and hardcore punk.

The result is an ever wriggling piece of heaviness and chaos, but a chaos with a sense of direction. Dual vocal duties — the high-pitched screams and the lower semi-growl a-la Brutal Truth — preside over a harsh musical venture whose main advantage is that while it is extremely heavy and almost "out-there," it does not lose its sense of melody, musicianship and the conveying of said elements to the listener; coherent and chaotic as the very same time.

An intriguing album, to say the least, albeit not as original sounding as one would expect from such a potent assembly. (7/10)

Frankly, this reviewer (i.e. your humble servant) cannot stand anything related to the so-called "modern" sound of thrash metal. Everything out there pigeon-holed as such has a tendency to materialize into a disguised form of that pseudo genre, namely nu-metal, being force-fed with something it does not know how to cope with or handle.

If anyone wants to hear something ridiculous made flesh, all one needs to do it listen to a nu-metal band trying to play it heavy and brutal.

Not implying this is entirely the case with Unsu — for this album has got more balls than all those nu-metal bands combined — but one cannot seem to shake off the feeling these French lads are trying too hard to become something they are not: a genuine thrash metal band.

The music is far too nice, well produced and too — well, "modern," in a sense — to be able to capture the filthy, grimy and macho essence of thrash metal, if that makes sense to anybody.

An overall alright listening experience for the uninitiated, but too tamed, predictable and polished for its own good. (5/10)

Don’t let the quiet, calming opening track of this EP fool you. There are guitars here! Loud ones. Fast ones. Slow ones that build to fast ones. That’s really what Ampline is all about. The guitars are very satisfyingly played, varying in tempo and intensity over the course of a song, sometimes sounding a lot like Sonic Youth, though the drumming leaves you thinking of something else.

The vocals don’t add much to the tracks, though a funky underwater effect on "Voltaire Hath Spake" does make for an interesting sound. The closing track, "We Are Appalachian," reminds me of the interlude between loud bits in a Catherine Wheel or Smashing Pumpkins song (the end of "Drown," perhaps?) and features whispered vocals to add to the mystery. Of course, it speeds up toward the end. It’s that kind of song. You know. (7.5/10)

Wow! These Hungarian guys have been around since 1996 and have recorded — up until this current release, at least — another seven albums. Now, that's what is called being productive. Hard working bands are a unique breed… Sometimes, though, the productiveness replaces quality — and that is not so desirable, now, is it?

Ektomorf, however, do not fall into that productiveness-over-musical-excellence trap; they know their craft and they deliver. A powerful and unique brand of brutal metalcore intertwined with some folk elements in the more tranquil moments of their mayhem, just to keep things interesting.

Even if one is not the biggest metalcore fan around (as is the case with the writer of these very lines), one cannot — by any means — ignore the sheer violent assault and the powerful display at hand of down-tuned guitars and adrenaline-pumping dynamics this album owns, in abundance. It is, indeed, one of the better metal/hardcore hybrid offerings these ears have bled for in recent time.

Hell, at times Ektomorf even manage to groove and are thus occasionally reminiscent of the mighty Gorefest Soul Survivor. Can you beat that? (7.2/10)

Once again we have a metalcore band who tries to be something more, something it is not, nor will be. Pretentiousness in music is usually a good venture — it leads to adventurous, outside-the-mold thinking, which in turn leads to good music being written. Pretentiousness is also a risky business, a double-edged knife, so to speak, that could either slay (in a positive sense) or kill the creator/creation. Some musical styles blend, some do not, some need extra care and genius minds to handle, and some simply aren't careful enough (or just talent-less) and lead themselves and their art towards a disaster.

This having been said, Legend is quite the aforementioned disaster; synthetically-played and synthetic-sounding drums, forced melodic "black metal" trying hard to fit into the metalcore dogmatic sound and rhythm structures; a very poor vocal execution do not make this short album something to be desired as a listening experience.

Good moments here and there are not worth mentioning because any album out there — as horrible as it may be — always contains at least one or two good movements, so what?

But that is not really important. What is important, and what this album fails in doing, is the radiation of feelings; emotions and pain portrayed by the artists are really the essence of (black) metal, emanating and oozing towards the listener, engulfing with potent darkness.

No, you will not find any of these qualities here, just a very poor Cradle of Filth clone gone slightly hardcore. (1/10)

Points of View is really an album that had been already recorded in 2004, self-produced and self-released by the band themselves, featuring different cover art. The copy now written about is the European re-issue, released by Copro Records. Now, the reason behind the re-issuing of this album would perhaps remain forever a mystery, for there is no apparent reason why anyone should go through the hassle of releasing yet again such a terrible, terrible album.

The Italian Convergence play a mixture of tranquil, modern hard-rock with some metalcore (again, this bloody metalcore) elements thrown in, something that will appeal perhaps to fans of latter-day Sentenced, Amorphis’ Eclipse and the likes of The Black League without the sense of individuality attributed with the last mentioned band.

This album is neither very emotive nor is it unique in any way, other than the eerie quality to induce apathy, fatigue and irritation when listening to it.

If you are not an explicit fan of the mundane and mellow side of heavy music, avoid! (0.5/10)

Black metal has more or less become a black hole ever since Immortal died. Now that Immortal has resurfaced, it seems that there is a ray of hope in the realm of the blasphemous and grim. Enter Iskald, a two piece band from Norway. After cutting their first EP, the band now grows even stronger with their first full length, Shades of Misery.

Incredible may be one way to put this album, but why stop there? Iskald has reinvigorated a sound that has been used and abused by so many bands with beautiful melodies, brutal passages, and relentless fury, injecting a new life into the dying veins of the genre. The album is as mysterious as it is dominating, the music being ferociously driven by guitars and drums as excellent vocals overlay an amazing blend of melody, emotion and finesse. Although described by the band as melodic black metal, it draws many musical elements from doom and doom/death metal, patching them seamlessly into a streamlined sound that is Iskald; when present, the keys fit perfectly into the music, providing the right touches at the right moments.

There are indeed many shades to this album and this band, and none of them are anywhere close to bad. As far as unsigned bands and their music goes, Iskald is on the top of the black metal heap. However, this reviewer's money is on them getting a record deal very soon, as this band has the potential to be a legend in its own time. It may be arrogant and early to make such an assumption, but Shades of Misery could quite possibly be the best black metal album of 2006. By all means get your hands on a copy of this record. (10/10)

The songwriting on Inside the Machine is vastly greater than previous albums from these five, and its about damn time. The songs are catchy as hell with a ferocious pulse and fast, driving guitars. Tracks such as "Inside the Machine" and "Lidless Eyes" show intelligence in both structure and riffs while remaining as brutal as ever.

Considering that A Canorous Quintet was one of the four defining bands of the Swedish Gothenburg school and sound [the others being In Flames, Dark Tranquility and At The Gates], it's about friggin' time that this group get the same amount of respect as their brethren. A simply amazing album from a band that knows how to come back with a boot to the face. (9/10)

As any chef will tell you, too many ingredients involved in a simple recipe can ruin the entire thing. With Nahemah's The Second Philosophy, this is frequently the case. Although the band is a standard five piece of two guitarists, a bassist, drummer and a vocalist, there is a huge presence of synth on this album and more often than not, it overwhelms the rest of the music. The guitars act for the most part as dual rhythm guitars playing harmony with each other while synth acts as lead while the rhythms of the bass and drum keep everything constant and flowing. Ultimately, the various studio effects and additions prove too much, driving the sound over the top and unfortunately over the edge.

Although the album has its shining moments in songs such as "Change" and "Phoenix," the guitars are uncomfortable while the harsh vocals are compressed way too much for comfort. The cleans are wonderfully done and save the album from total destruction. This was a daring stab into uncharted waters and with a little work, could be an amazingly refined sound. (5/10)

What do you get when you take European thrash and combine it with a little screamo? You get Vulcanus, the newest studio cut from German powerhouses Fear My Thoughts. The rhythm on this album is tighter than a virgin, with massive efforts behind the throne driving an absolute beast of a sound.

Combining everything from ‘80s thrash to new age panic riffs and dissonance, the sound is overflowing with energy and flow, with dual guitars working wonderfully with each other to provide a perfect atmosphere for the screamed vocals.

Tracks such as "Both Blood" and "Lost in Black" will enchant listeners as well as entertain, taking the listener through a world of proficiency and energy. Other tracks, however, are more or less blatant ripoffs, such as the Opeth-ish "Culture of Fear." All that aside, this release isn't for everyone, but it certainly shouldn't be overlooked. (6.5/10)

North may be the most legendary black metal act in the history of Poland, but then again, there's a reason why the best black metal comes from Norway: this reissue of their first album is fucking annoying. Yes, the production is terrible, and yes it was probably intentional.

It wasn't the horrible quality of the album that ruins it, it isn't the fart-sounding guitars or bass, it's the annoying snare drum that kills this album. The band decided it was perfectly fine to drop the snare wires off the drum and give it ultimate priority in the mix. The only redeeming track on this catastrophe is "In the Circle of the Kings" and only because of the ambient guitars and minimal drumming. (3/10)

This ain't your daddy's death metal. Or maybe it is. Phazm is a four-piece French death 'n roll outfit that combines defining elements of death and black metal packaged with the ballsy swagger and groove found in rock 'n roll. Their latest work is equally dark and twisted as it is brutal, with an awesome groove that remains present throughout the nightmarish elements of this album.

Each instrument dissolves seamlessly into the mix to create a monstrous sound that keeps on delivering song after song after song. Tracks such as "My Darkest Desire," "Black 'n Roll" and "Mr. Toodling" epitomize the death 'n roll sound while other tracks such as "Damballah" show a twisted, eerie side that you won’t find anywhere else. If there was any such album designed for dancing on the grave of your enemy, look no further. (8/10)

Astra could most likely be called the Italian response to Dream Theater. This immensely talented quintet has all the energy and proficiency of their American counterparts, sharing not only a genre but brilliant songwriting as well. From daring progressions to heartfelt ballads, insane solos and masterful flow, About Me: Through Life and Beyond throws the whole book of progressive rock straight in your face.

Listeners can revel in the aura of the stunning vocal abilities of Titta Tani, whose soaring leads and soulful choruses bring the music to life in a full spectrum of dynamics, leaving no part of the album dull or boring. The guitar work is simply amazing, revealing a proficiency level that would give Yngwie a stiffy. Tracks such as "Resurrection" show this fantastic quintet at their best. It would be no surprise to see this band soaring above and beyond the standards set for them, easily becoming one of the top prog rock bands of the year. (8.5/10)

Unlike most power metal bands, Betoken is metal that you can relax to. The vocals aren't soaring or extremely flamboyant, but instead they are laid back yet perky and stressed in time, alternating between male and female vocals while the dual guitars work impeccably in time to create crushing rhythms and flowing harmonies. The bass is deep and full, complimenting moderately technical drumming within the swirling aura of sound.

Although the tracks flow very well within each other, there's very little variety on this album, as the songs seem to flow a little too well for comfort, creating times when the album just becomes downright boring. However, if listened to with a patient ear, the tracks will blossom forth into a whole new light. (6/10)

It seems like somebody in this band needs a hug. Good luck getting close enough to attempt that. This four-piece metalcore band from Holland has it all: fast and furious riffs, dynamics, excellent arrangements and songwriting, as well as a penchant for delivering their music straight into your face like a fist wrapped with razor wire.

The vocals are spit into your face with pure hatred with a brick wall of frenzied guitars and steady drumming to boot. Picture Morbid Angel playing metalcore and you'll be close to their sound. Songs such as "Handfull of Darkness" and "Forward Devolution" shine through and show the bands full potential and capabilities. Keep your eye on these guys, they're sure to follow up with an even better neckbreaker. (8/10)

As a Sentenced fan myself, I find the band's demise like that of losing a good friend to suicide: shocked, but in another sense, respectful of the decision carried out. The Finnish suicide rockers go out with a glorious bang, performing an incredible 26-song set at their farewell show in Oulu, Finland. The setlist spans the band’s discography from their second album onward and even sees Sentenced's old vocalist, Taneli Jarva, making an appearance onstage to perform songs from their North From Here album.

The two-disc performance is nothing short of incredible, bringing back memories and moments while creeping a smile across one's face. I could talk about how amazing the guitars were, or the relentless pulse of the drums, or the sheer emotion within the vocals or the relentless cheers of the crowd. I could tell about how great the production of the album is, and how this is a must have, but the only thing I can tell you is that this is the most fitting way for a band of such legendary caliber to go into the night. If you're a Sentenced fan, you probably already have this album, and you're probably already treasuring it. (A Fitting Farewell/10)

To end a huge year, Temporary Residence has brought forth an offering of post rock in the form of their latest sampler, entitled Thankful. However, there is little to be thankful for on this release. Bad production is rampant throughout the ten tracks like herpes in an orgy, and bad songwriting is just as prevalent.

It's really hard to pick out which tracks shine through, as each suffers in its own way, yet shines in a unique caliber. Songs such as Sleeping People's "Growing Sand" start out hopeful but then recede into annoyance and overused dissonance. The only song that truly stands out as a great achievement on this catastrophe is By The End of Tonight's "Ready? Aim. Fire!" simply because they actually know how to keep a song from getting utterly annoying.

If this is the best of Temporary Residence, we're in for a LONG year of terrible albums. (2/10)

The third release by Israel’s folk rock outfit is its most coherent one to date. The decision to release an album with English language songs (rather than a mix of English-Hebrew ones, as was on the previous albums, reviewed in issues #29 and #39) is essential to the consistency, but there’s more than that into it.

The Goldoolins have obviously come a way from their debut release. This time they put the Beatles influences aside, and handle the music in a more relaxed manner, sounding truer to their folk orientation and giving up on irrelevant, showcase exercises (such as "Fain Would I Wed" on their first album). These make The World is Somewhere Else less accessible than the band’s previous albums, but also all the more rewarding for the listener.

With two of the tracks stretching out beyond the eight-minute range, a recurring theme and dedicated arrangements (including piano, harp, mandolin, horns and strings on top of the more casual rock instruments) to enhance the consistent, slightly melancholic songwriting (as opposed to the major/minor flirtations on earlier albums) the Goldoolins sound more like Fairport Convention than ever before, with a touch of ‘60s/early ‘70s Israeli music that gives them a singular identity. The short "One Shot" makes for an energizing exception with horns splashing through in a nearly art rock manner.

With all that said, "My Song" deserves a special attention, as it is one of the most moving songs I have heard recently (and perhaps ever) — a simple song and yet true poetry! — with a beautiful melody and a fine male and female vocal performance that brings out the song’s lyrical subject of an artist claiming ownership of his songs — a possible correspondence with Israel’s national poet (Bialik, 1873-1934).

There is still room for improvement though, especially on the production front. This self-produced and recorded release sounds good and clean, but a more professional touch could have certainly raised the material’s level. I can only hope this issue would be considered when the band decides to record their next release. (8.5/10)

There are those who believe that Skid Row has no reason to exist without Sebastian Bach tearing and screaming at the forefront. While I can understand them, I did believe in giving the band a fair chance. Unfortunately, there’s much more than Bach that is missing on the band’s second release with their newfound singer.

Great songs were at the heart of albums like "Slave to the Grind," the type of songs through which teenagers raised their voices and let their testosterone loose, and those who were a bit older were revitalized with teen spirit; the type of songs that led you — with stormy melodies, driving rhythms and maniac vocals — to believing that rock is ever youthful. All of these are but gone, and we are left mostly with plain childish rockers.

I am being a bit harsh, though. The opening "Disease" does have a hymnal quality, and I can also agree that Revolutions Per Minute has some of the vulgar power of old. Following the tradition of the band’s previous efforts, it also feeds off from the tons of letdowns this world has to offer, as the mere title of the catchy love/hate number "Another Dick in the System" suggests. "Strength" does manage to revive a bit of the old drama through its five minutes (this is the lengthiest cut here; most of the others clock around the three-minute range); these are almost all of the few strengths to be found here. On most of the rest, the power demonstration is executed with a single power chord per song and a twist of a general, unimpressive guitar solo. The robust sound barely manages to make all of this bearable.

Too frequently on this album Skid Row comes off as punk rock (just check "Pulling My Heart out From Under Me"), which admittedly can be seen as a disappointing yet natural regression of the direction the band took with 1995’s Subhuman Race. On some tracks, they take an attempt at being comedians (listen to "When God Can’t Wait" or the country flavored "You Lie"), but without Bach’s tongue-in-cheek tone, it simply sounds detached from the Skid Row moniker and borders on self-parody.

If you can also detach yourself from the original Skid Row, you will probably enjoy it better; I could not. (5/10)

Prior to his death in 2002, Paul Samson (of New Wave of British Heavy Metal originators Samson) worked on a new project. P.S. brings us Samson’s last recordings, as completed by his collaborator John McCoy (Gillan, Samson).

Honestly, I’ve never found the Samson material I’ve listened to extraordinary, and this also applies here: P.S. is a collection of average, guitar-driven heavy rock songs that corresponds with the blues and at time sounds like Gillan meets the early days of Whitesnake. There are some good vocal and guitar melodies to be found here, but these are hardly enough to make this material rank above the worn out standard.

Furthermore, since this release is culled from unfinished recordings, the audio quality is problematic, and the rhythm section, in particular, sounds synthetic, compressed and digitally distorted. This is strictly for Samson diehards or for those who just can’t get enough of the old NWOBHM. (3.5/10)

This ambitious quintet from Richmond, Virginia had four years between its formation and its first full-length release. After even a casual listen, it is clear that the time was well spent. I Am Jim Jones is the most versatile debut I can remember: It moves from slow acoustic guitars to quick, death-inspired verses to sludgy grooves reminiscent of Cephalic Carnage. This continuous and often-unexpected motion ensures that the album stays engaging and interesting — with some help from skilled songwriting and instrumentation, of course.

With a metalcore attitude, Cassius runs the gamut from thrashy guitar riffs and deep growls to scream-accompanied dirges. The playing is a little loose, but this only works to enhance the generally chaotic and desperate feel of the album. Some songs are more straightforward than others, but they are all followed by something you didn't see coming.

"Deadbeat" is a fast, hardcore-inspired track that ends in a rockish bass-and-drum section, followed by a noise intro that evolves into a minor-key, almost Anathema-like, instrumental, "Elate and Subtract." The next track, "Funeral March," moves from a balls-out metalcore verse to heavy grooves and agonized screams. The entire album is schizophrenic this way, which is refreshing; any experimentation is positive, especially in a debut. It speaks to what Cassius is capable of, but it also sounds great in itself. This is a group with a lot of skill and even more potential. (8/10)

This Swedish hardcore group has a good handle of the basics, and A Cry in Despair is a good display of what these guys can do. The emotional range is good, moving easily from softer acoustics to throaty screams, and the instrumentation is tight. The guitar melodies and drum rhythms are simple but combine well for a good-sounding result. The overall effect is a heavy mixture of yells and fast-moving chords, occasionally breaking into a rhythmic groove.

When We Fall is firmly planted in already-established hardcore technique, however, and there isn't anything new or surprising to be found in this EP. The group plays conventionally, the lyrics lash out at society and treacherous relations (heard this one before?), and despite a good job of selling of the band's emotion, it's just not a satisfying listen. More experimentation, or at least some more unconventional playing, will be necessary for When We Fall to move forward. For now, I'd leave them on the shelf. (5/10)

Architect's brand of aggressive hardcore chugs along with a death-like energy: the verses are rhythmically driven by regular guitar riffs and crashing drum lines, and the grooves flow smoothly out of them to a satisfying effect. The production is crisp and suits Architect's style well. The violent, anti-religious lyrics are carried through in a deep, throaty scream, which fits aptly into the rest of the mix.

However, there isn't much more to All Is Not Lost than that mentioned above. The style isn't original, the breaks aren't surprising, the instrumentation and vocals aren't varied. Besides a few slower tempos, variety is the biggest thing lacking in the album. The songs use the same sound to follow the same basic outline, and it only takes a few songs before Architect's formula gets tiresome. You've heard all of this before, and I wouldn't recommend it to anyone but the die-hard fan who just can't get enough of this type of oversimplified, anger-based hardcore. (4/10)

The single-man project of Sweden's Pete Flesh (* drums by Flingan) is an energetic offering of solidly performed and well-produced death metal that transitions easily from moody intros into quick-moving verses and including a healthy smattering of powerful grooves. The vocals consist mainly of a high, throaty growl, which sits atop the guitar and drum lines but is appropriate to the rest of the mix. The album is heavily focused on instrumentation, though, with frequent solos or instrumental interludes, so the vocals aren't the main focus.

One problem that is hard to combat with solo projects is the tendency of one very specific style to take over. Temple of Whores does not overcome this problem. The guitar lines sound very much alike from one song to the next, and although they are broken up with the frequently shifting style mentioned above, it is likely you will notice the sameness of sound within a few tracks. It is especially hard to ignore when you listen to the album in its entirety.

Overall, Temple of Whores is a strong CD. Quick-tempoed and well-produced, it showcases a lot of one man's good ideas. The project is worthy of a listen, but Flesh needs to dig a little deeper for inspiration or bring another guitarist into the fold for some different-sounding themes and new thoughts. Another instrumentalist could add a lot of depth to Flesh's already-solid sound. (6/10)

This Columbian quartet gets down to business early in Perception of Hate. Energetic and brutal, Goretrade's preferred style of death is blazing, aggressive, and unrelenting. Cruel-sounding, theatrical intros build a mood of suspense that is quickly crushed by a head-on assault of fast-picked guitars and pounding double-bass.

The production is clean, and the distorted guitars maintain a lot of crispness. The vocals are soon added: a wet, harsh growl that surges occasionally into a raspy yell from the throat. The effect is altogether percussive, as the staccato syllables tumble forward, crescendoing into a guttural gong hit, which fades away into another instrumental section: A simple but strong formula, which fits Goretrade's straightforward style.

The verses are chaotic, and the grooves are somewhat standard — nothing new to the world of old-school death. But this album isn't just a rehash of death metal conventions. Just take a listen to "Ritual of Flesh" and see if it doesn't remind you of why you loved metal in the first place. With a little more originality in its songwriting and riffing, Goretrade could gain a worldwide following. For now it's just a really strong death band. (7.5/10)

The previous joint release between Auris Media and Tophet Prophet (Grundik+Slava’s Frogs) was a terrific electro-acoustic journey, so naturally we had our hopes high for this new one. On the other hand, the previous Igor Krutogolov solo efforts that we reviewed (Muzika Electronica and Wardrobe) were far from perfect. A few live solo sets by the man also left the impression of him being unstable and unfocused in his musical deliverance.

As was the case on the aforementioned releases (and opposed to the high-adrenaline output with his instrumental band Kruzenshtern & Parohod), this release focuses on ambient music. This time, however, Krutogolov is much clearer in his vision and its flow; he takes the time to draw the listener deeper and deeper into an almost sterile, restrained setting, with sonic layers of strings, flute, keyboards, bowed bass, chimes, rain and other environmental recordings leading fluently unto other sonic layers. Everything evolves patiently, with timbres of sounds gradually developing into majestic semi-melodic lines — a modern, minimalist symphony.

The visual production enhances the material with realism and authenticity, making White sounds purely divine (a quality that even the redundant, nearly empty thirty minutes or so at the end of the 77 minutes long voyage cannot detract from). (8/10)

Diablo Swing Orchestra actually proves that you don’t have to be a technical-driven entity in order to successfully execute the jazz-metal fusion. The band’s vision is a bit confusing, as this album can be quite eclectic: "Poetic Pitbull Revolutions" features a Spanish Matador theme, "Gunpowder Chant" navigates between Spaghetti motifs and industrial rock, and throughout the album nuances that pay tribute to various metal subgenres are presented. The band is generally raw and rough, but it plays with dedication and receive the proper production to make its music come to life.

In fact, had only the Diablo Swing Orchestra been truer to its name, this recording could have approached the status of a revelation. At some parts, it is indeed so — these are the parts in which Diablo Swing Orchestra is reminiscent of Lalo Schifrin’s attempts at blending chamber music and jazz (most notably his 1966 release Marquis De Sade). These parts have swing motifs well assimilated into them, prominently the walking bass, the menacing cello and the sharp outbursts and features of trumpet and flute.

The vocals include both male and female parts, and while the first are rather straight forward and average, the latter are beautiful realized: inspired by both classical singing with its high, chamber music styled notes ("D’Angelo"), and by jazz vocals with its punctuated nature (as "Balrog Boogie" demonstrates), these vocals contrast the music in a way that enhances them, and would definitely appeal to fans of gothic metal.

However, in some parts DSO sounds premature, showcasing a rather coarse chordal attitude that makes the band sound like the average metal band that it is not. One certainly wishes the band would pour some more jazzy elements and melody into its songs. In particular, the drum parts could have used some refinement as they are quite basic.

I can only hope a more crystallized second release won’t hesitate to come, even though it is unlikely that the originality this album carries would strike with the same power twice. (7.5/10)

Here is a vegan straight-edge hardcore band called Gather, young and idealistic with their 1st full-lenght album. Vocalist Eva sounds like a baby sister of Arch Enemy’s Angela Gossow.

Obviously, the music serves as a vehicle to convey the band’s perspectives, dealing with things like the injustice of American politics, the (meat)industry and the wrongs of modern-day consumerism. The booklet speaks volumes and reads like a party-programme for the vegan movement. Whether one may be partial or cynical towards those standpoints, I don’t feel very compelled to judge them, for it’s obviously the music that should let the sparks jump over.

Gather yet have to find a balance between being a band with a message, or a group preaching to either deaf ears or those who are converted already. There may be a risk that if the musical impact falls short, it may also affect the listener’s opinion about (their kind of) veganism, or as they (or their capitalist opponents) call it "the Green scare." Combining music and a responsible attitude is like walking on a knife-edge.

Gather’s production hasn’t had the same amount of attention as their pamphlet booklet. The music is certainly heavy (Vic DiCara also worked for the likes of 108, Inside Out, and Shelter), but the production falls a bit flat, especially the drums, which sound all tinny. The Sepultura-esque "jump da fuck up"-style riffs are adequate and percussive in nature. Nevertheless, they make you long for something more, something... what shall I call it? More meaty? A second guitar perhaps? It all remains so damn controlled and cerebral; and the occasional spoken word moments makes it get a little pedantic. And still I can’t say the album is bad, because it just isn’t.

With the risk of seeming pedantic myself, I’ll surpress the urge to be too harsh about this debut and instead try to imagine what should be next. Beyond the Ruins is an ok angry hardcore release but Gather could increase their appeal by decreasing their furious crossfire of statements, no matter how sincere or praise-worthy they might be. (6/10)

Just to go off on a tangent, I love hearing people talk about the future of metal. What's heavier than bands like Eyehategod? Soilent Green? How can you possibly achieve a more punishing sound, without sounding derivative these days? Well, Black Elk are answering, and it's simple:

Out-maniac all your peers. Their self-titled debut is an exercise in such a moody heaviness that it's often times impossible to tell what will come next; a sludgey and brooding chorus or a thrashy, stomping verse that sounds like a blitzkreig death march. They even borrow from bands like Ministry and Made of Babies, mashing up extremely aggressive rhythms with off-kilter songwriting that brings to mind an appealing style of lunacy. Noisy guitar histrionics are buried underneath a thick and dirty production that brings to mind drowning in a swampland where the water is made of bricks.

Seriously, there are sounds here so evil that they can put most black metal bands to shame. "Toss You to the Wolves" breaks out midway into a searing section of downtrodden melody before degrading into complete noise and wall of screams and growling.

Black Elk have managed to impress with their debut, mainly because you won't expect a band that sounds like this initially to be so diverse and in the end, completely punishing. You owe it to yourself to hear this. (8/10)

Whenever someone talks about dance-able punk, most people tend to cringe. It brings back the worst bad acid trips. Flashes of Green Day. A bright light and "First Date" by Blink 182 fades in and out. You shudder for a second and think to yourself: "I'm already not giving this band a chance."

Well, imagine reading that on Bonk's promo sheet and then actually hearing the band. Hailing from Oslo, Norway, Bonk is one of the strangest phenomenons in punk. Though listed as garage, it takes some strange influences from places like the Who and death/punk. Whereas the music does have a very vivacious rhythm and beat to it, it's perfectly suited for cruising. Imagine something like the Chuck Norris Experiment with a more indie affiliation and less cheese.

Moods run the gamut from completely aloof to frothing at the mouth with energy. However, underneath the rather enigmatic facade, Bonk at most are a one time here-and-there sort of thing. There's nothing fantastically surprising about this album, or anything that's going to keep you listening for days on end.

It is, though, a nice alternative to the bullshit punk that's plagued American air-waves and a return to something more of a Refused sound. And few bands were as punk as the Refused. (6/10)

Formed by Entombed/Nihilist founder and current Hellacopters brain-child Nicke Andersson, Death Breath's Stinking up the Night is a return to old-school death metal that sounds right at home with early Entombed (go figure), and even the great Disincarnate. No genre-hopping, no beautiful melodies, no breaks, no time to breathe, this is death metal at it's purest, and it's destined to be one of the death metal greats of ‘06.

Rhythms pulsate and pound like the adrenaline that races through your blood the final seconds you're left alive. You're being enveloped in complete apprehension and fear as something unbeknownst is out for your blood. That's what Death Breath is. It's not pretty, it's not nice on the ears. But man, do you need it. (9/10)

Four-Letter Lie. Can you guess what that means? If not, this band is for you, because the only person they will appeal to is a complete idiot who finds this sort of thing clever and cute.

Seriously, did Victory records need another emocore band? Apparently so, and the result is this abhorrent piece of plastic known as Let Your Body Take Over. If you're a guitarist, you should especially find this album insulting, because of how completely asinine these guitar lines are. In drop D, you need two fingers to produce every chorus on this album. It's completely ludicrous, man.

All the melodies are simplistic, the vocals are the standard emocore variety, sounding too far down the throat to where it sounds like their stomach is about to release, the only moments of weight are few and far between...

Let Your Body Take Over is a train-wreck. Stay away. (1/10)

Thank whatever higher power you believe in that this album is barely an hour and a half in length, because if you listen closely, you can hear the boxes full of He Is Legend's shirts being sliced open with a box cutter, all neatly folded, tagged, and ready to start flying off the shelves at Hot Topic.

Normally, experimentation is a good thing, right? Nothing like bands creating some sort of retarded baby still held together by the umbilical cord to its root. Well, if any band could completely trivialize genre-crossing, it's He Is Legend. Part grindcore, part hardcore, but still completely mallcore. Driven by completely standard rhythms, often hackneyed guitar histrionics, technique and structure that can't be done better by bands committed to an actual genre is pretty much everything you'll find on this album, but coated with a nice and shiny shell of bubblegum.

All the soft-vocals make it sound so heartfelt and ridiculously dull and flavorless that it's an album people who know music will forget in a heartbeat, but you know regardless of what you do, this album is going to be hanging around you like the hardcore dominatrix porn video that disappeared. You know what I mean. Guys getting dominated by chicks with massive strap-ons; the one you had to throw onto a pile of clothes one day because you almost got caught spanking it to it. You come back up from your family's first early supper, and it's gone. The ghost of it looms over your head until the day you die, and you even still have nightmares about someone getting you a headstone in the shape of a ergonomically-correct penis, while your children have to live with the knowledge that all their aunts and uncles refer to you as the boy bitch.

This album is THAT bad. (0/10)

One quick glance at Her Candane and you ecxpect another one of those indie-logic bands. You all know the types, that pedestrian yet pretentious silliness that's supposed to hint at some sort of deeper meaning or intellect.

Well, Her Candane are actually fairly surprising. The songtitles are ridiculously stupid, but man, the music is so violent. It's not really technical, nor is it genre-redefining, it's just really, really, almost mindlessly violent. Yeah, the vocalist can get annoying with his half-assed, "I'm fifteen!" screaming, but this band is extremely tight, and the production is absolutely stellar. And these guys know how to manipulate momentum and always keep a furious rhythm pounding.

As great as this album is, it still has a few pitfalls. For instance, though the music is extremely volatile, it's not too memorable, other than some of the noisy quirks thrown in here and there. Not to mention their vocalist is horrible. He runs the standard course of most hardcore screamers whereas he has two vocal styles:

1. Spoken-word.

2. About-to-vomit growling.

However, aside from those few problems, the music on this album is actually very surprising. It's hardcore that eventually wanes into post-hardcore melody, and the band pulls this off expertly. (7/10)

Shoegaze and dream-pop are two of the most enigmatic genres, especially post-‘90s. These days, good shoegazing and dream-pop bands are limited to a decent MySpace fanbase, other than some of the bigger names like Pillow and Daysleepers. Well, let's add Sinks of Gandy to that.

An acquaintance of mine put it correctly when labeling shoegaze: "It's about shitty-sounding guitars making beautiful soundscapes." Anyone who listens to Benoit Pioulard can second that, but it's true for Sinks of Gandy as well, even the vocals. The music has such a dreamy and slowly degrading sound to it that regardless of how depressing it can be, you really don't want to turn it off.

Unfortunately, there's one massive problem with this album. The vocals are just bad. There's too much fuzz to them, and the layers don't harmonize very well, either. Sure, it may've been to achieve a certain mood, but it breaks some of the excellent melodies and shatters the ambiance. Normally, vocals shouldn't be a concern, but these are just ridiculous.

Anyway, the music is excellent, but the vocals suck. (6.5/10)

Damn, it's been awhile since something like this has popped up. Existence, the new album from The Demonstration, is inventing no new wheels, just adding spokes.

It's melodic death in classic Gothenburg style, but with an unglossed and extremely death-esque production. The vocals are extremely meh, of the hardcore variety. However, The Demonstration have a spontaneity to them that sounds something close to a Skinless-lite version of melodic death. There are moments of completely crushing heaviness, and breakdowns that have such a potent rhythmic chemistry that it's almost like a dead artform that's been revitalized. Beyond that, it also features moments that sound like they're borrowing from grindcore in some of the fills thrown into the music. A crushing passage of heaviness will progress into soaring arpeggios and grandiose melodies, then the cycle will begin again.

However, there's no denying that while Existence is a very refreshing listen, it seems to be almost hindered by how inconsistent it is. Granted, the band doesn't really stray far away from their formula, but there's a lack of character and cohesive songwriting about it. The melodies are great, and when The Demonstration get heavy, they crush, but ultimately, the lack of fills or memorable transitions give this album a sort of ambiguous sound that's almost too mood-breaking to reconcile.

All in all, Existence by the Demonstration is a fine album that'll definitely please speed-freaks. Though if you're a fan of deeper meanings and consistent themes, you're going to find The Demonstration to be likable, but a bit annoying in the end. (7/10)

So, the Who have a new album, and I'm sure that most people are thinking they've got the AC/DC, Rolling Stones or Aerosmith complex about them. Y'know, that they're too old, and it's time to hand it up. As far as Endless Wire proves, that's hardly the case.

Instead, one of the most fundamental rock bands of all time finally realizes Pete Townshend’s halfway pretentious vision of making a rock opera. Whereas you had Tommy and The Who Sell Out, Endless Wire breaks into completely new ground, often recalling bands like Pink Floyd. I'm sure that it might sound like a turn-off, especially considering two very influential Who members are also gone, but it's actually extremely surprising. The arena-rock has almost been completely dropped for a more relaxed, spacey atmosphere and a very philosophical attitude.

Not to mention Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend have definitely done their share of music research over the past years. The live DVD displays Pete Townshend recalling such techniques as Eddie Van Halen's famous touch-style arpeggios, and he ventures out into such instruments as banjo, mandolin, et al. Roger Daltrey, obviously worn by age, drinking and smoking, is still in very good shape vocally. He's even started to break out of his standard idiosyncracies too, with crooning that recalls artists like Tom Waits.

Of course, regardless of how the Who have changed, there's a lot of what they do that's still the same, and you can hear it in their songs. Immediately, "Fragments" opens with programmed keys that recall the off-kilter and frenetic intro to "Baba O'Riley." "Man in a Purple Dress" brings to mind their more acoustic songs, such as "Love Ain't For Keeping." Even then, there are actually territories The Who cross that still have footprints of Jethro Tull, especially "Two Thousand Years." And these songs can't be mentioned without the beautifully done "It's Not Enough," mainly due to Roger Daltrey's pain-filled vocals on top of a very melodic line from Townshend.

All-in-all, Endless Wire is a fantastic release that pretty much no one expected from the Who. They've become something that has so much more meaning than the days of "Pictures of Lily," a song about wanking off. Their new sound is almost elegant and folky, without forsaking their roots in rock and roll. While the same bands that drove crowds insane with crushing verses in "Who Are You?" has become introspective and almost fragile. (10/10)

The hard working and enthusiastic Russian label Solitude Productions, to whom this reviewer holds much respect, has released a mighty album here; a highly enjoyable, mainstream-ish, Gothic-tinged doom / death beast that excels both in musicianship, production and song writing / arrangements.

The dual vocal approach of the male vocalist(s) (sometimes triple and even quadruple vocal styles) is astounding; genuine abysmal death grunts intertwined with baritone ones a-la Tristitia's Thomas Karlsson, with that of a folk singer. In contrast, the female vocalist reminds a lot the heydays of the Dutch band The Gathering, especially Anneke Van Giersbergen’s work on Mandylion; crystal-clear, pure beauty and innocence.

The aforementioned could be read and understood wrongly, followed by an unjustified impression of Tales of Dark being yet another lame and pointless "Gothic" doom metal band. However, be assured it is not. In addition to the precise and articulate execution of the songs, the strange inherent dynamics that drive this album effortlessly and flawlessly forward, the singing and playing the instruments impeccably, the band generates a real aura of menace, mystery and dark Baroque-like romanticism.

Not the utmost original of the lot, however highly enjoyable, extravagant and extraordinary. Pick this musical gem for long and lonely nights; it will enhance your pain a bit. (8/10)

Finally! Something so downright random, it can't even be compared to another band. No, really, I tried. Despite Devotion Materialize’s obvious weirdness, however, you will find yourself caught up in the moments and, occasionally, muttering the phrase, "What the fuck?"

The first song, "Cyber Room", zips through a ton of movements that don't necessarily fit together in a coherent way. Triumphant keyboard strings swell while a guitar lead through a wah pedal is played amongst it in a style and sound you wouldn't expect from this time period. Then without warning, it whips into a fast-paced, cruising tune with zany programmed drums that are briefly interrupted by electronic whirrs. "Cyber Room" is entirely instrumental, which makes it easier to hear all of the electronic bloops sliding around in the background. Half way through, there is an atmospheric bongo breakdown that eventually leads into more bleeps, and heavily distorted riffs.

Sicilia is obviously proud of his shredding skills. He sets off at breakneck speeds with a wah pedal, and is able to impress with seemingly minimal effort. Such is displayed with the opening of "Splatter on a Bluegrass," on which he spends a good 30 seconds just shredding over nothing before acoustic guitars break in playing a nice, Spanish arrangement. Soon enough, female vocals enter and bongos are played freaking everywhere in the mix, very fast. A techno bass drum enters, as does a macho growling dude. Does it sound crazy enough for you yet? If not, Sicilia begins playing bluegrass on the guitar and a fiddle is thrown in there as well. The vocal performance over this is very silly making "heema bobba" sounds rather than using actual words. It makes me want to stomp my boot and holler, "Yeehaw!"

And now for the flaw: It is quite obvious that a lot of the recorded sections are looped, even sections as small as a second or two. It's pretty clear that Sicilia has the skill to play them through, as dictated by the shredding sections, so the reasoning for this is unknown. (Perhaps sloth!) Having these looped sections means that when one ends, and one of the out-of-character sections pops in, there is a pretty hard transition between them. Still, it's pretty fun hearing all of these unrelated musical genres all splashed together into these high-octane compositions. (9/10)

Passenger is a great album that mixes a tad of Meshuggah here, some Strapping Young Lad-isms there, but overall is a mature evolution for the band and what may be their most aggressive album yet. From the opening screams of "Humanaut," you know this disc is going to be pretty brutal.

Also, it is quite interesting to see Mnemic taking on the extra-terrestrial theme like SYL has done with their creatively entitled Alien. Mnemic recalls their more thrashy side that we witnessed with Mechanical Spin Phenomena, yet they incorporate those elements with the catchy heavy sections and the lush clean vocal layers and smooth, floaty synth arrangements of The Audio Injected Soul. "In The Nothingness Black" has a chorus that sounds very similar to those of the last album, yet the verse is heavier and contains more force than these guys have had previously.

It was a sad day for Mnemic fans when it was announced that the original vocalist, Michael Bogballe, was out and they brought in Ex-Scarve singer Guillaume Bideau... However, the sadness quickly fades when you witness Bideau's performance. He screams with more ferocity and more density than Bogballe, though I wouldn't go as far as to say that he is a better vocalist. He's just bringing something a bit more feral to the table... With the added aggression of both Bideau and the thicker guitars, the heavy parts really kick some major butt, yet the band sticks to their roots a bit by incorporating the smooth, catchy vocal-layered choruses we've come to expect from them by this point. Passenger is definitely not a disappointment, and is more like a musical evolution after the more childish exertion that was The Audio Injected Soul. (8/10)

Moonlight Agony's debut, Echoes of a Nightmare, is astounding with its presentation. From the start with "Into Darkness," it sounds like a symphonic metal band possibly along the lines of Turisas or Battlelore, and you anticipate the entrance of the first big scream. Brief moments later, there is a breakdown riddled with toms and a folky synth is played on the keys and guitar, and the band suddenly sounds like Dragonland (with whom Moonlight Agony shares its bassist) or Fairyland. In short, the band plays an energetic and fresh brand of prog/power metal, yet they incorporate many musical influences, and feature more equality in their technical performances. You won't hear simple powerchords covered with a speedy shred; nay, you will experience a great bit of rhythm skill as well as an impressive display of lead and solo skills.

Many bands float into obscurity due to bad mixing and mastering, whether the vocals are too loud and the music too weak, or the production just doesn't have that kick required to really make an impact on you... Moonlight Agony made sure that all their hard work was given justice with a good production job. This isn't the cheesy brand of power metal that so many criticize; the vocals have a normal range and also drift into a more harsh heavy metal style that bands like Adagio and Beyond Twilight use. The artwork doesn't feature dragons or elves, and the lyrics aren't tributes to Lord of the Rings, rather they deal with more existential topics.

Echoes of a Nightmare is full of diversity, and every song has its own personality that will draw you back to them for another listen. The title track's maniacal synths stay fresh in one's memory, as do the robust power metal vocal melodies and chorus layers of "Ceremony." The instrumental track, "Moonlight Horizon," contains a few minutes of the band's appreciation for folk and plenty of great keyboard compositions! Echoes of a Nightmare is a very enjoyable and memorable album that makes the upcoming February 2007 release of Silent Waters all the more promising. (8.75/10)

After hearing "Learn The Way," your first reaction may be a hearty exclamation of "what the hell?" The mixture of influences and Order of Nine's performances do seem very strange when presented in this form. Michael DeGreno's vibrato doesn't only wander close to the borders of overly extreme, but he's also got a peculiar roundness to his vocal tone. At times he sounds like a weightier, possibly much older and less pronounced version of Bruce Dickinson, and at other times he sounds pretty similar to Big Boss from Equirhodont (and Root! – ed). It's almost like the two had a love child and DeGreno is the result. It's a rarity that grows on you after hearing a few tracks.

Needless to say, the band plays heavy metal. There is definitely some Iron Maiden influence that is noticeable on songs like "Bloodline" and "Learn the Way." The second song, "Some Sort of God," oddly enough holds an atmospheric arrangement near the beginning that sounds like something you'd get from Emperor, and later on DeGreno provides very low-range vocals that solidify the possibility of a Big Boss influence. Although the band's brand of heavy metal isn't so fast, songs like "The End" show Michael Chiccitt's ability to pull out fast leads smothered with pentatonic scales, as does the solo placed half way through the song.

The haunting vocal performances and disharmonic clean guitar chords at the beginning of "Moment of Weakness" is one of the more memorable moments, and sends chills down the spine. Chiccitt provides an even more impressive solo with plenty of shredding soon after the song breaks into the heavy, palm-muted powerchords.

The album can seem like a snooze-fest at times and is definitely not for everybody; the vocal performance can get pretty irritating after a while. Order of Nine's Season of Reign is definitely an acquired taste that will take a while for new listeners to get into. If you like heavy metal in general, and/or the aforementioned bands, you should give this a listen. (6/10)

There are a handful of things you can notice about Underthreat (previously known as Skulptor) from the first song and title track of Deathmosphere: The guitars are tuned viciously low for death metal, it sounds like B Standard. Secondly, the band seems to have a hefty Gothenburg influence and a decent bit of speed. More similar to At the Gates and the more classic stuff than Dark Tranquillity or more modern stuff. They also incorporate speedy blastbeats and tightly laced harmonic leads. In short, this is awesome, thrashy Gothenburg metal done right with a classic feel and a pleasant lack of similitude between other bands, both modern and older.

The production is strong, yet not as clean and over-produced (read: fake-sounding) as more modern acts put on. It almost sounds like a really precise and energetic live performance. The great production could be due to Chris Djuricic (Novembers Doom engineer and bassist) who has worked with some crushing groups recently and has really succeeded with Deathmosphere to make it sound as brutal as possible. Vocalist John Perez's stamina is also impressive as he unleashes a dense throaty growl that keeps the same consistency throughout the entire work.

The best thing about Deathmosphere is that it feels "real" and makes an impact on you as you listen. I guess you could say it "jumps off of the canvas."

With work this good, there's really no place to complain. They're doing it better and with more gusto than even the very youthful groups are today. Also the included "live" video for "Embraced by Disaster" is DVD quality and looks quite good, however it is obvious with the video editing and such that the album version of the song was overdubbed on the video and it isn't an actual live recording. The lip-syncing on John Perez just doesn't match up, and neither does the guitar solo half way through. Still, it's nice to see these guys in action in front of such a large crowd. The great audio and visuals presented on Deathmosphere make it an album you will want to check out. (8/10)

Therion has been spreading their majesty for two decades now, yet the band sounds more relevant than ever with Gothic Kaballah. There really aren't too many bands like Therion; some have vague similarities, and many utilize one certain aspect and do away with many of the others. The great thing about Therion is that they use everything they can, and try to be as fresh as possible, and you can tell. Sure, it may sound cheesy when the operatic men and women of the choir begin delivering their lines, but it is much more interesting than just having a lone growler belching out the lyrics, and it sounds a ton more robust.

Lemuria / Sirius B was an astounding foray into an almost cinematic feeling symphonic metal, but the amount of consistently entertaining and action-packed material on Gothic Kaballah really steps it up a notch. The material is more refined now, and by no means is it "straight forward" at all — it is just done with more intensity and much more heaviness this time around. Each song is an instant classic! Even on the first listen, you will be moved by these songs, and the stunning choruses and sections featured on every song... Just look at the chorus and the following orchestral arrangement on "Son of the Staves of Time" — it's so good, it may bring a tear to your eye.

Also something worth noting is the great production: of course everything is mixed appropriately — you wouldn't expect a group of this magnitude to go skimpy on something so important — but even the mastering is very well done. Everything meshes together through equalization so that it all sounds very smooth and natural even though the high-end is very strong and clear. It's the kind of production you would expect from a band with such a massive sound and so much experience. With nary a complaint to be made, it is very easy to recommend this album. A legitimate complaint would be the decision to release this as a double album despite all of the content being able to fit on one disc — why? It's pretty inconvenient to switch discs in and out instead of just having it all in one place. Still, we can overlook this as Gothic Kaballah is worth the extra effort. So early in the year, and already we've got a fantastic album to digest... Expect this one to top some favorite charts! (a bajillion/10)

Throughout the 10 years of Pain of Salvation’s existence, there has been a somewhat predictable move forward with the band's sound, yet I don't think anyone could have predicted the massive downgrade that is Scarsick. When Daniel Gildenlow stated that the album would be more guitar-oriented and more like a real band than their last effort, BE, it was thought that they may produce something similar to Entropia, which is the band's most guitar oriented album. However, Scarsick begs otherwise with its simplistic riffs, and almost radio-friendly songwriting. Songs like "Cribcaged" and "America" could definitely be played on the rock stations — with a good bit of "radio editing" for the torrent of F-bombs on "Cribcaged," I might add — and songs like "Scarsick" and "Spitfall" might make their way to a hard rock or even rap station!

The songs contain very simplistic verses followed by a vaguely different chorus on "Scarsick," and a stereotypical sing-along melodic chorus on "Spitfall." Gildenlow's vocals are now the main focus of the music with the guitars usually remaining in a static, almost tribal rhythmic state. Of course his vocal performance is as great as ever, and he does everything he's been known for in the past with the addition of at least one noticeable addition to his arsenal: the womanly falsetto on "Disco Queen."

The album can be pretty much outlined in this manner:

I. Rap Singing Simplicity

A. Scarsick

B. Spitfall

II. Very Slightly Progressive Rock Songs

A. Cribcaged

B. America

III. Better, and More Memorable Due to a Few Parts

A. Disco Queen

B. Kingdom Of Loss

C. Mrs. Modern Mother Mary

IV. Ending Filler, Sounds Vaguely Familiar

A. Idiocracy

B. Flame To The Moth

C. Enter Rain

"Cribcaged" is a bit more progressive than "America" at least in a traditional Pain of Salvation type way. The song is not surprising at all, and holds highly overused blues leads and very unoriginal chord progressions. The same can be said about a lot of the album, which is a shame. "Disco Queen" may be the band's strangest song ever simply by being out of character for them! It's like a groovy blast from the ‘70s that will make you want to dance awkwardly while wearing bell bottoms. "Kingdom of Loss" holds what is possibly the most memorable part of the album with the chorus. A flute is layered with fast acoustic guitar tremolos to make a very pleasant arrangement that is reminiscent of the re-workings featured on the band's live album, 12:5. And the lyrics ("Welcome to the planet Earth, please don't ask us what it's worth") are quite nice for this chorus as well, and are a relief after all the negativity and hatred spewed out towards America(ns) on the majority of the album. All in all, it really falls short of what we were expecting out of the band by this point, and it hurts to have a band we loved so much say "f you" right in our faces. (4/10)

Amoeba is perhaps one of the most brilliant records to have materialized from the French metal scene. Bursting with melodic creativity and intricately structured songs, the album promises to open a whole new world of possibilities that many bands dream of but few manage to accomplish. Viciously forceful guitar riffs collide and powerful vocals merge with melodic exploration, only to be sheathed in a heartwork of emotions.

The group's originality is present throughout the entire record, and a particularly charming example of it is in the fourth track, entitled "Zambra," a collaboration between Hacride and the flamenco artists Ojos de Brujo. The ninth track, "Ultima Necat," is a stunning instrumental journey, simple yet complex at the same time. It is hard to compare Hacride's music to other existing bands, because as soon as one is able to find a suitable comparison, the basis for this comparison disappears into an undecipherable abyss. Phenomenal, this record is definitely a must-have. (9.7/10)

This is Murw’s fourth demo and the fact that it comes in the highly popular format of a cassette (and limited to 100 copies at that) will garantuee that their positions behind the dikes of Holland will remain widely unnoticed, except for those who care to explore what little is going on in the flatlands.

The misanthropic vocals are somewhat in the vein of Graveland’s Carpathian Wolves, but the music has a more melodic approach, including the use of classical guitar.

In fact, the progressive and atmospheric elements in the music remind me of things about the Norwegian wonderboys Ansur. The key song called "Miserable Useless Rotten World" (it lasts for nearly 13 minutes) has a feel that is similar to Ansur’s "Interloper," though that doesn’t mean it’s equally brilliant.

There are plenty of idea passing by, but besides the unquestionablly technical skills in which they are presented, the whole concept of a desire for total world annihilation doesn’t quite come across. That the lyrics are delivered in a barely audible whispered way doesn’t amount to it, either.

Despite these shortcomings, Demo 2005 is an ok enough demo; I can’t fully agree with the sound of the recording, in which the drums sound hollow, bombastic and annoyingly put to the foreground. Instead I would have preferred the vocals of F. Kerkhoff in that place.

This demo presents some of Murw’s potential, but its shortcomings are actually a little frustrating to notice. Hence, I really hope for them that they will one day dive into a proper studio (they may have already done so, for this demo is already old news as I write this).

The misanthropy of Murw and their statement that their inspirations and influences are simply limited to death (not to be confused with the metal genre) unfortunately translates to the fact that their website is dead as well, which makes it a little more difficult to obtain a copy for those interested. The e-mail address noted above was mentioned in their promo letter where anyone wanting to check out this peculiar band should get more details about the availability of their material. (5/10)

In addition to poor production and a somewhat reckless sound, this album is attempting to invoke the underground black metal sound that was so popular over a decade ago. There are numerous doses of interesting guitar parts, but the fact is, the songs lack something. Perhaps it is integrity, perhaps it is originality. For those who collect underground metal records, this album might make an interesting addition. (5.37/10)

The magnetism of Otargos manifests itself in the apt musicianship of these Frenchmen from Bordeaux, such that they remain black metal minus any weariness associated with the genre. Their infernal melodies gleam with the exaltation of vigorous tunes, integrating originality and skill into all of the songs. Powerful, dark and yet demure, Otargos have released an album that oozes demonic talents without being over-the-top. (9/10)

With bedlam vocal variations and standard guitars, Inhale Exhale's musical style easily falls into a nondescript category. Nonetheless, the guitar playing is energetic and it is this quality that makes the record worth listening to. For example, the fifth track, "A Call to the Faithful," demonstrates an interesting level of blasting dynamism that is sure to do the band well during live shows. Although there is a clear attempt at infusing the record with musical diversity, contained within the melodic progressions and the shift in vocal styles, it becomes difficult to appreciate the whiny character that is present alongside the majority of the songs. (4/10)

The mastermind behind Dragonlord is Eric Peterson from Testament, accompanied by Steve Smith (Nevermore), Derek Ramirez (Testament) Jon Allen (Sadus) and Lyle Livingston. Although we are used to encountering black metal acts from the colder parts of Europe, here is an exception. Yes, they might sound like Dimmu Borgir and Cradle of Filth, two of the world's most powerful black metal tyrants; but that does not mean that Dragonlord fail to incorporate originality into their music. Gorged with crushing guitar riffs and enticing symphonies that percolate throughout the whole album, the songs are sure to be popular with fans of symphonic/melodic black metal. (9/10)

There’s good news and bad news with the new God Dethroned, The Toxic Touch. The good news is that it’s a good sight better than their last two records in that it achieves much better success in conveying a convincingly organic groove that breathes. It’s fairly easy to get into this record on a basic, simple level, and that’s cool. Stylistically, The Toxic Touch seems to borrow a bit more from At the Gates than I remember God Dethroned doing in the past, but this group’s MO on this record is relatively more about being rougher, more square-shouldered head bangers.

The bad news is that it seems very clear that God Dethroned will probably never come close to equaling their best album, Ravenous, or even their second-best album, the preceding Bloody Blasphemy. So, if you haven’t heard those two, you need to before even considering approaching The Toxic Touch or anything else by this band. (6.9/10)

Melechesh sans Proscriptor McGovern on drums? Any good?

Well, duh.

Melechesh has seemed for years to be like the baby Absu, albeit one that traded in its Celtic leanings for Middle Eastern ones, and who liked to get slow and groovy as much as it liked to tear you a new one with blasting beats. But elements like how the rough vocals fit over the music, and the general take-no-prisoners, rabid filling of the speedy elements of the music with the maximum allowance of coarse notes made albums like Sphinx the disks that Absu fans happily turned to when they had memorized every nook and cranny of Tara.

But no Proscriptor on drums this time.

Melechesh still kicks ass. And, yeah, they’ll still remind you a lot of Absu. But they’re plenty different enough. Stylistically, why not call it ethno death metal. Think Nile, but way lighter on the cheeseball movie theatrical version of ethnic Arabic music. Factor those elements in with beat-down extreme metal workouts, plenty of butt-shakin’, corny yet rad grooves, and gargling-with-sandpaper vocals, and have a great time. (8/10)

The Wuthering Heights crew must have taken stock of their previous albums as good, folky/Celtic-inspired power/prog metal, but perhaps a little subdued. A little relaxed. Lacking punch where punch was often needed. I thought so, anyway.

Sonically, there are no real flaws to speak of. The Shadow Cabinet is a barrel of fun. It’s a testimony to power metal AND prog metal excess, marrying the utmost of churning, rabid, exuberant, overdone, ridiculous, and therefore unabashedly triumphant metal music. Goofy, maybe. Totally hilariously awesome, yes.

There’s a bonus disk, too, of a seven-song live performance at 2004's Progpower. It’s a pretty good recording, and a decent to good listen, but 1) Johansson doesn’t sound nearly as good here as he has on any of the recordings that have come across Maelstrom’s review desk, and 2) we’re reminded of what Wuthering Heights’ (older) material is like when it drags its feet. Actually, scratch that. It can get fairly unlistenable, and I doubt even fans will listen to it more than once. I couldn’t get through the whole thing. But it’s a bonus disk. Get The Shadow Cabinet for the studio album. That’s well worth it. (8.5/10)

Need is a Greek modern metal band that can easily be mistaken to be of a US origin. The band feeds on the harshness and thrash of Pantera, Machine Head and the likes, with melodic tidbits thrown into an explosive inferno of crunchy, low-tuned guitars, kicking drums (with lots of double bass) and rasp, agonizing vocals.

The title track reveals a more progressive side of the band, not only in its 11-minute length but also in being epic and well structured, with nods to Tool and Opeth. It is one of the highlights here, and yet it is a bit confusing in being an exception that might make thrashers feel discomfort. It should have been kept for the end, using the songs that follow as a path to the duet between power and delicacy that this song manages to achieve to a very satisfying result.

Unfortunately, some of the album’s tracks do sacrifice the punch for much less than a progressive treatment ("Lost" being a pretty straight forward ballad) — a compromise that somewhat detracts from the album’s intensity.

The vocals are fine, ranging from clean, melodic singing to roars, but at times fail to hit you with the necessary impact. This adds up to the moderate production and results in an album that is self-confined, instead of being a true hair raiser, even though it holds a high potential of doing so. (7/10)

Karjalan Sissit has been the unwavering, rare soft spot for dark ambient music that actually registers in this writer’s heart.

We’ve come to be spoiled with Karjalan Sissit’s packaging, and the fact that Tanssit on loppu nyt is on the Cyclic Law label makes the artwork and booklet extra great: an oversized (don’t they call this A4?), all cardboard stock booklet with various black-and-white pictures of everyday people and places. As usual, about as essential as dark ambient can get. (9/10)

Martyr’s second album, 2000's Warp Zone, is my favorite technical death album ever. It’s a marriage of intensity and delicacy; the extremely difficult and intricate musicianship is brought forth not with the usual "faster and more brutal than everyone else" approach that is so common within the scene, but rather with a remarkable approach to dynamics and hooks, albeit hooks in time signatures that will give you a headache if you try to figure them out, inimitable solos that come in at unusual points in time, a fresh approach to arrangements, quiet/loud transitions where you wouldn’t expect them, and musicians that are second to none in any musical style. Yes, Warp Zone is a one-of-a-kind album, and any death metal fan must at least hear it once.

I feel this strongly about Martyr in spite of the fact that their vocals really, really suck: They’re kind of an unfocused, uncontrolled hoarse scream. But, hey, let’s see what YOU can do vocally while playing over mind-bending guitar licks. Then again, the vocals might be partially why Martyr isn’t the genre’s leading band... But I love Warp Zone (and the live record, Extracting the Core, where the vocals are even WORSE) so much that they’ve become like an inextricable part of the equation.

It was slated. Nearly etched in stone. Martyr’s third album, Feeding the Abscess, after a six-year hiatus, was going to be album of the year. Just because it was Martyr.

The funny thing is that, although Feeding the Abscess is more technical, with "better" sound, and longer, it just isn’t as good as Warp Zone. The reason for this is simple: the songs just aren’t as memorable, and that precious sense of subtlety has largely been reduced in favor of more whirlwind technicality. Oh, and although the vocals are still not great, they’re MUCH better.

Don’t misunderstand, though. Feeding the Abscess is regardless an unquestionably essential death metal record. You won’t hear another band in the world with an approach to tech death like Martyr’s. But I question the desire to make new material bigger than what was already big enough. Sure, there are still some great dynamics. In fact, the part that sticks out most in memory is the fleeting violin finale at the end of one song.

Patrice Hamelin is one of my greatest drumming heroes. I don’t think anyone else has ever heard of him. He’s unreal. If I could play like anyone, it’d be like him. The production makes him sound bigger than ever here, but again, it isn’t necessarily better, as the drums sound much more machine-like on Feeding the Abscess.

The guitars and bass are no doubt more out-of-this-world than ever, but again, the taste and appeal takes second place to Warp Zone. I’ve now listened to Feeding the Abscess at least 10 times through, and although it will be an album that will grow in appeal with time, it’s clear that it’s no Warp Zone. And so, I cannot objectively name it album of the year, much as I cannot name the latest release of another of my heart’s favorite bands, Angra, as such either.

But enough redundancy. Feeding the Abscess is a fabulous record that fans of the style would do very well to buy. But you know what to get first... (9.2/10)

Which definitely can't be said about the lyrics; they are a full-on attack. If you never wanted to deal with those things, you're going to have to. It's impossible to just relax and enjoy the music when someone tells you "We fuck 'cos we have to, if we don't there's something wrong" in a clear voice. The songs deal with various subjects, from relationships ("Kill everything or more. I'm so very happy now, according to my teenage whore"), paranoia ("Those insects drove mad, always there to distract. To show my disbelief, I painted every fucker black."), apathy ("Am I someone special? Can I be replaced? Did I always fail?"), Nazism ("Feed the Creep") and suicide solutions ("God I wish I had the courage to kill"). And there was much more where that came from.

Although it might seem so, Misery Loves Co. weren't a Nine Inch Nails clone — nowhere near. They had a style of their own, and apparently the singer meant every word — no, he didn't kill himself, but there was a reason that between two albums his long curly hair became short: The guy was so nervous before gigs that he used to sit backstage and cut pieces off.

Although critically acclaimed and well advertised, Misery Loves Co. never reached the popularity they deserved and after another album they parted ways. Who knows why they failed, but after a year of searching I bought the CD at a ridiculous discount price. When I asked the seller why it was so cheap he said it was "because no one wanted it". Makes sense. But Not Like Them was, and will, remain relevant because, to quote the last line, "The model still smiles. The crosses still burn... burn..."

Of particular interest was Tom G’s choice of guitars. H.R. Geiger artwork on the body of each Ibanez were very eye catching and perfect for this band, and a theme all Frost fans can appreciate.

All in all, the band brought new life to the classic material and their new material is refreshing and up to date. Their sound remains distinct, if evolved, thus keeping Celtic Frost a still relevant, interesting and enjoyable metal act to this day. Their live energy is excellent and the material great.