About the fiercely contested fence as to whether Alcest is sublime or garbage, Maelstrom definitely stands firm on the side of the former. Souvenirs d’un autre monde, Alcest’s first full-length in its shoegaze, post-rock embodiment, stood as one of the finest albums of its year.

It was mostly due to the first song, "Primtemps Emeraude," which achieves a pinnacle of beautiful emotion and melody every single time. It is a forever memorable song.

However, the strength of Souvenirs lie unevenly on the virtues of that first song. The rest of the album is also excellent, but it’s nonetheless a marked drop-off from the genius of that first track.

Enter full-length album #2, Ecailles de lune. While Alcest’s best song might remain as "Printemps emeraude," Ecailles de lune is an improvement overall, with stronger melodies and more crafted emotional expression in general. Alcest has gotten more progressive in its arrangements and song approaches, which gives Ecailles a wonderful variety of songs that all sound like they belong together.

Alcest’s greatest quality is being able to hit, at will, a uniquely harmonious pitch, where the melody becomes transcendental, exquisitely summarizing an aesthetically gorgeous feeling of nostalgia, melancholy... yet satisfaction and joy... all wrapped up in an old-world charm.

Further improvements over album #1 is a bigger and richer sound, particularly in the drums. The guitars breathe with more life, and the layers of vocals express with more sonic depth.

Finally, and perhaps as a response to all those who decry Alcest as not being black metal, there are two songs with important, extended parts with black metal vocals, which also rule. But being black metal or not is hardly a worthwhile qualification for an album’s worth, and Alcest’s music speaks for itself. (9.5/10)

Aldaaron’s Nous reviendrons immortels is one of the nicer-sounding albums on the Paragon label. It’s big and well-rounded melodic black metal basically in the Dissection school, but played with a Hate Eternal mentality.

But...

For lack of a better term, it all sounds too digital. Everything sounds perfect, but perfectly hollow. The guitars have a crafted, buzzing but clear bite, but in terms of heart, it sounds like a facade with little true, insidious dirt and blackness to hold it up.

The drums are unbelievably inhuman. Nothing is out of place, everything rings out neatly, the hits are all spaced out perfectly as if on a grid. If you’ve ever played drums, you’ll know this isn’t what they sound like in real life... all of which, added to that Aldaaron’s drummer isn’t anyone’s ever heard of before, is not a little suspicious.

But what it should ultimately boil down to is the music. Aldaaron’s songs are pretty long — considering their intensity — at roughly seven minutes each. And although the riffs can be considered melodic, it’s a melodic sense like Dark Funeral’s melodic sense, except the melodies here are longer and more like Dissection’s, and the result, like Dark Funeral’s, is a bunch of decent riffs strung together in a not-particularly remarkable way, blasting and churning and tearing it up in an artificial-sounding album, whose lack of musical excitement may reduce the listener to trying to find where the seams in the recording are, rather than appreciating the actual compositions... and that’s no way to enjoy music.

Nous reviendrons immortels is not a bad listen. It’s acceptable, decent, and for what it is, the sound can be appreciated. If you’re not in a band and don’t write, play and record music, you’re likely to enjoy it more than if you do. (5.5/10)

We’ve liked Antigama’s music in the past. Maybe it isn’t fun anymore. Maybe we’re different people now. Whatever it may be, Warning is boring. It’s good, but it’s boring.

Technical, aggressive, mathy, brutal grindcore is the order of the day here, and although the songs are complex and intense, they all sound the same and nothing stands out... except the rare parts that are totally unlike the rest of the album. So, what it boils down to is 95% of the same, unmemorable grinding and furious technicality, 2% jazzy breakdown bit, 1% carnival-esque segue bit, and 2% soothing ambient part, which ends the album, and is actually the most musically interesting part of the record... which of course defeats the purpose.

It’s nice that Warning does actually sound like a competent band that is playing their well-rehearsed songs, but there’s not much of a compelling reason to get this when there’s at least a couple dozen grindy records you should listen to instead — like, Napalm Death’s Harmony Corruption. Get that. If you already have it, listen to it again... even if it’s for the millionth time. (5.8/10)

That Aras is Iranian black metal will no doubt get it more listens than yet another band from Sweden or the US. But is the novelty fair? Most extreme metal from the last places on Earth you’d think extreme metal would come from is pretty janky, even by black metal standards.

The beginning of the mini-CD Hemaseye Andooh doesn’t do much to contradict that notion, with overly deliberate, staccato drum machine simplicity and lyrical syntax that sticks to the beat like it was hanging on for dear life.

However, by track two, the music breathes more interesting personality and flow, breaking into a repetitive, hypnotic, nigh-accordion-like bit that carries the song. This sets the stage for a higher level of musical creativity through the end of the album’s four songs.

At its creative peak, Hemaseye Andooh sounds like a grooving, anthemic Xasthur, mixing the kind of buzzing, impossible guitar tone and high-end brittleness with fist-pumping, mid-paced double kick churn and familiar black metal minor key melodies.

As good as this is, the overall feeling one gets from Aras is that it’s far from fully realized, as even on this EP, only one of four songs has vocals (the first one, which is the worst); and although the EP has some interesting bits, the songs are rather suspect in their arrangements and direction (the third track is particularly so).

We’ll leave Aras as a band that’s interesting and has some good moments (but nothing too terribly original). But then again, it might be less remarkable still if it weren’t from Iran, and geographic location isn’t really a good reason to like a band more, is it? (5.8/10)

Arise’s The Reckoning is a Swedish death metal album you’ve heard many times before. The music is air-tight, perfectly performed, but generic from beginning to end. It sounds like if you took a standard metalcore band’s music, took out the ‘core trappings, but some residue still remained.

You could make a case that a band like Dimension Zero is relevant even after the blight of a worldwide scene obsessed with At the Gates, but Arise doesn’t make the cut. The Reckoning is good enough to listen to if you found yourself on an island with it as your only Swedish metal representative, but considering you probably have a good couple dozen albums like it that are way more interesting, you’ll probably want to forget about it. (5/10)

Psychoacoustic Trauma Asylum has a couple brief metal tracks with "Mercurial," and "In Ashes." The rest of this 20-minute EP is mostly faux-industrial noise. The detailed automation and electronica elements are impressive, and are the most structured aspect of Ast Voldur's debut.

The drums are programmed, and have a sound more befitting electronic music, or grind, i.e. The Berzerker. The clean nature of the programmed drums and electronica elements doesn't fit with the guitars at all, which sound out of character by comparison. The vocals sound like a Japanese dolphin with its throat cut. It sounds cool for a few moments, until you wish its misery would end.

Instead of sounding like industrial black metal, it sounds like unrealistically programmed drums and synths stashed under raw guitars. The production is limited extra hard for that Death Magnetic loudness. There's an artifact here or there, and a fair deal of clipping as a result. (3/10)

If you can get past all the cheese, you’ll realize that Axxis’ Utopia is a really good record. AOR-style power metal is the order of the day for these Germans on this album. The production is big but light, the performances outstanding, the songs catchy... but it might not be every day that you can throw this album on and unabashedly be enthused.

Yes, it’s very campy. Want visual confirmation? Look closely at the cover art, featuring a sea monster rising before what is likely Atlantis. The art would have been just fine — fantasy RPG, but fine — if it weren’t for the two disproportionately-sized, leather-clad, torch-holding women stuck on the back of the emerged sea beast, looking tacked on at the last moment.

The art and its WTF aspects sum up the musical content nicely. Utopia has rockin’, sugary songs with catchy constructions and melodies, but you’ll have to be in a state of mind to let go of your better judgement and disarm your automatic cheese defenses to enjoy this one. Conditionally excellent. (7.3/10)

Between the Buried and Me, far and away the best band on Victory Records for the past five years or so, has gotten even more progressive with their latest album, The Great Misdirect, featuring more important clean, relaxed compositions, and some obvious borrowing from Dream Theater here and there.

However, and luckily for returning fans, Between the Buried and Me are not going to abandon their aggressive, intense metal roots anytime soon, as The Great Misdirect features ample sections of intense blast beating and technical hardcore passages.

As interesting and noteworthy as this band continues to be, The Great Misdirect will unlikely contain any songs that will become anyone’s new favorite. The music is accomplished, but it can sometimes be a wonder how or why it all fits together, and as such, the album might be almost too long. However, Between the Buried and Me is a unique group making music not exactly like anyone else, and The Great Misdirect is a fine continuation of their quality discography. (7.3/10)

Brainstorm is a power metal band for those that think power metal is gay. It’s still stuck in the ‘80s, but the melodies aren’t treacly, the production not as bright, and the performances not as irreverently theatrical. The imagery is likewise more heavy and brutal, and presented in more drab colors.

In Brainstorm’s case, this also results in the music not being as fun, either. You might want to think of Memorial Roots as belonging to the same metal school as Iced Earth, but less cheesy, less pompous, with more cut-and-dried songs, and German.

Memorial Roots is a correct, proper album with solid, believable production and performances, a good singer, and respectable songs. Beyond that, however, it’s unremarkable. The songs feel heavy rock/metal, a style whose tempo can really make tepidly-inspired material feel bland. We imagine Brainstorm being on-stage at Wacken, in front of 5,000 or so people, and we’re wondering if anyone is really into it. (5.2/10)

Throughout over twenty years of existence, Cheer-Accident has gradually evolved from a garage / post-punk band to a full-fledged art rock ensemble.

While not as experimental as 1997's Enduring the American Dream (which is a magnificent trip between lo-fi / noise and pieces that sound like a minimalistic yet equally epic version of Univers Zero meets Robert Wyatt), Fear Draws Misfortune, the band's debut recording for Cuneiform Records, presents not only the full transition into art rock, but also the band's growing self-criticism — the lack of which was responsible for spoiling some of the band's past work (2003's Introducing Lemon for instance).

The opening "Sun Dies" is adorned with incisive vocals out of the Dagmar Krause (Henry Cow / The Art Bears) school by Sleepytime Gorilla Museum's Carla Kihlstedt, and instrumentation that is tense yet delicate (note the use of Marimba sounds!). The music uninterruptedly flaws into the next two instrumental tracks that are far more energized, their orchestration drenched in the occasional Frank Zappa-styled lunacy while remaining dead serious.

Technique-wise, the Chicago group is in its fittest form on this album, and the players manage to pull off some impressive musical maneuvers. For example, "Blue Cheadle" features loopy drums, semi-operatic vocals, classically-inspired piano playing and bent violins. "Humanizing the Distance" has some intense drum rolls reminiscent of Mahavishnu Orchestra's Billy Cobham, interspersed with equally earth-shattering horns.

Clocking at nearly 42 minutes, the concise Fear Draws Misfortune is probably Cheer-Accident's most cohesive and engaging recording to date. (9.5/10)

PS: We hear that the band that the band has now found a permanent female vocalist to front it, and look forward to see where this leads.

Purely from its art and packaging, Cormorant’s Metazoa is the kind of album you hope is great. Striking, original art, vibrant colors, put together in a snazzy, gloss digipak that signals this should be one hell of a metal album by a band whose name, anyway, makes you anticipate progress and expertise.

Sadly, Cormorant’s visual side is far superior to their audial one. Stylistically, Metazoa is like a black metal, post-rock take on classic or even ‘70s prog rock, with long, courageous songs, growly vocals, and loads of throwback leads. This marriage might not be the best conceivable, at least as far as the evidence of such up till now would lead us to believe; for Slough Feg’s own take of traditional heavy metal-tinged classic rock, 2007's Hardworlder, also suffered from the same issues: flat, muddy, drab sound, perhaps with the intent of sounding "classic," but really sounding punchless.

In Cormorant’s case, this makes the pill harder to swallow, because Metazoa seems to go on forever. When you feel the album has had its say, there are still two more very long songs to go. Cormorant’s music isn’t terrible, but considering the muddy low end, the lack of sonic dynamics, and the very long song format, the album can be a minor chore to get through. That the clean vocals are pretty bad and the harsh vocals passable make the full trip that much more difficult.

Since Hardworlder, Slough Feg has bounced back with a much fresher-sounding, more sharply honed album. Can Cormorant do the same? (5/10)

Money Never Sleeps is a confusing album. The cover references the Japanese stock market, and the band is Swedish, but the music is cheesy relationship-based hard rock that sounds neither Swedish nor Japanese. It sounds like something you would have heard on the radio in America in the ‘80s.

Disregarding the fact that it is very simplistic, Covered Call actually succeed with what they're shooting for with their debut. The songs are well put-together, and if you’re into Bon Jovi, you might like it. "Anything You Want" is a pretty brave attempt at a retro ballad, but breaks into a cheese refinery and overdoses on it in the process. It's also a dry ballad, as there's no build-up into a guitar chorus or anything. It's just vocals over piano.

The only major fault with the album is that Covered Call use the same hooks for every song. They don't have many variations in tempo, so it seems to drag on after a while. It's like listening to the same song for half an hour. The vocalist has a great vibrato, but even the vocal melodies hold too much similarity. (5/10)

Damage Control is what you might call a second-tier supergroup. Pete Way of UFO fame is on bass, Chris Slade (who has played with the likes of Manfred Mann's Earth Band, The Firm and AC/DC) is behind the drum kit, and the less familiar Robin George (who is also featured on a double-CD set by the David Byron Band, which has been released simultaneously with this one by Angel Air) completes the trio on guitars.

Raw is mostly a remake of the Damage Control's 2007 self-titled debut. At that time, Damage Control featured a singer, but this release sees Way and George taking the vocal duties, promising us a rawer result, and fulfilling the promise. Raw is really heavy, blues-inspired hard rock, full of stomping rhythms and fuzzy, overdriven guitars. Not totally unlike ZZ Top, but perhaps more updated and modern.

If it wasn't for Them Crooked Vultures releasing their more polished debut album, Raw could have scraped the "recommended hard rock albums of 2009" list. However, as raw as Raw is, it comes off less skillful (especially in some jam-oriented sections within the songs, where the playing becomes a bit generic), and certainly less refreshingly sleazy than Them Crooked Vultures. (7.5/10)

Acedia comes across as a horrid experiment in prog rock/metal and emocore gone wrong... as if such an experiment could go right.

The music is prog, but the kind that is falsely progressive, with half-limp screaming punctuated by vocals that have that treacly, "commercially" "accessible" sheen heard on so many bands on the Victory Records roster. In Dark Age’s defense, the singing is well-done for the style, and is a good sight above the usual level one can associate with this type of singing, but no matter the objective quality, the lot conveys the antithesis of the struggle, heaviness, obscurity, or intensity of metal. This CD sucks. (3/10)

De Profundis’ A Bleak Reflection would be a pretty good symphonic black / death album, if it weren’t for one glaring problem: the relationship between vocals and music are out of whack.

Specifically, the vocals are too loud. Or, if you’d prefer, the music is too thin relative to the vocals. Either way, it’s the same result: you start feeling kinda sorry for the singer, as he must feel rather lonely and naked up there all by himself while the rest of the band play clearly but meekly down below, and then feel some pity for the instrumentalists, who have this massive grunter drowning out their parts.

We don’t mean to take away from the quality of the vocals, because they’re quite excellent, deep, guttural growls. However, it’s the same problem that comes up so often: undynamic, non-melodic, purely rhythmic vocals can be great for what they are, but they cannot carry a song. If your band growls, you can’t mix your album as if you were Iron Maiden.

And we don’t mean to take away from De Profundis’ music, either. Even when the overpowering vocals are going on, the music is good. Not much better than "good," but good. And contrast the times when the vocals take a break, it’s like a totally different listening experience. The music is still thin, but there’s nothing objectionable or annoying about it. We’ll bet the album’s music would seem much better if only it could be appreciated more.

Finally, the band name, "De Profundis" — Latin for "from the depths." Cool name, but wouldn’t you expect a band with that kind of claim to make deep, heavy music? You know, this basically is *heavy* metal, is it not? And especially considering there are *two* guitarists in the group, there’s no excuse for the guitar to be this thin. The vocals have got the right idea — it’s time for the music to catch on, too. (5.5/10)

Devil's Slingshot is a joint venture between three reputable musicians: bass player Billy Sheehan, guitarist Tony Macalpine and drummer Virgil Donati. There's no doubt these are three talented, technical players, but that's hardly enough for us to recommend this release to people other than these musicians' dedicated fans.

Clinophobia might be a good cure for the phobia for which it is named, as it is so predictable that you will probably prefer to go to bed despite all fears. The heavy, rock-instrumental tunes are founded on a framework of largely mid-pace rhythms loaded with distortion, with the occasional, swift melodic lines or rhythmic breaks sneaking in, offering some fusion-styled moments.

There are no real surprises here, or sparks of originality (many of the tracks actually remind of Marty Friedman's solo output). Billy Sheehan's playing is arguably the most exciting amongst the three, while Virgil Donati's drums sound dry (on the lower range) and smeared (on the higher range), which is a real bummer.

It's not like the whole album is terrible — it's rocking fun (especially as background listening), and there are even moments of grace: for instance the second half of "Ballade de Bastille," when the three technicians exhibit more delicate playing. But Clinophobia is mostly about three guys shredding in neutral. (5/10)

French group Les Discrets seemed to emerge in conjunction with the split with Alcest, which was a fine pairing of two bands’ similar styles of post-rock / shoegaze. Now, the release of Les Discrets’ first full-length album comes at the same time as Alcest’s latest, which furthers the notion that all the above mentioned are somehow the same band, particularly when considering the detail that Les Discrets’ drummer is the same from Amesoeurs, which is a practical alter-ego of Alcest. It’s like a collective of groups that make up one big behemoth.

Let’s not lose our minds, though. Suffice to say that if you like Alcest, you’re going to want to get Les Discrets. It’s probably all you’ll need to read.

Thus, analysis of Septembre et ses dernieres pensees will, fairly or not, be in reference to Alcest’s latest album.

Septembre et ses dernieres pensees is a highly accomplished, recommended album. It’s soft and delicate, nuanced, emotional, thoughtful music that channels loveliness, hardship, and nostalgia through a folky, post-rock medium that more than occasionally channels some metal in its delivery. The approach is closer to a feel of traditional French songs, but updated with a post-rock presentation. However, it is not nearly as good as Alcest. But you’ll still want to get it.

The production is delightful and organic, and the singing is excellent, but not as poignant as Alcest’s. It’s more mid-ranged in its feeling, and its presence is more of an emotional understatement. This applies to the songs in general as well: They are lovely, pleasant songs, but the emotion conveyed is blander.

Not that bland doesn’t have its place. Not every record has to be a huge roller-coaster of emotion. Septembre et ses dernieres pensees is like a gentler, more placid companion to Alcest, with no harsh vocals and much smaller musical swells — something to put on while enjoying a glass of wine, as opposed to contemplating one’s own frail emotional existence, past, present, and future.

Specific to this recording, the best moment occurs on the last track, where there is an amazing horn section that blows with a feeling of sweet contentment and comfort — this element is probably the one that sticks out the greatest as far as unique individuality.

Lastly, the art is also striking and beautiful... perhaps giving the impression that the music will be darker than it turns out to be, but there’s an element of a dark fairy tale narrative that is mirrored by the sonic element — what’s apparently sinister is actually misunderstood benevolence.

If you like Alcest (or even Amesoeurs), you’ll want to get Les Discrets, but only after you get Ecailles de lune. (8/10)

Negura Bunget’s previous 2-disk re-issue outputs, in which they’d have the original album alongside the new, updated (be it re-mastered or re-mixed), were cool. Well, we’ve heard only one of them, Sala Molska, but that re-master essentially took an album that was so janky and obnoxious to the point of its being nigh-unlistenable, and made it possible to not only withstand, but actually appreciate.

Maiestrit goes one step farther, not re-mastering or re-mixing Negura Bunget’s third, and possibly musically best album, Maiastru Sfetenic, but actually re-recording the entire thing from the ground up. And thankfully, like with the other re-issues, the original version of the album is also included on its own disk.

Is Maiastru Sfetenic v.2 better? Basically, yes, but there’s room for a v.3. Here’s a rapid-fire list of observations and comments.

- The sound is more polished, and there’s some element of a greater sense of what can be called "audible." However, it’s still something of a big mess, but now that mess has a stronger sense of being honed. And it’s made us re-think how much we originally were excited by Maiastru Sfetenic.

- On the flip side, there’s something you might miss from the dirty, buzzing tonality of v.1 that signaled a more satisfying sense of black metal-ness, although after a while, with random dips in sound volume and some tracks that kind of get in their own way, you’ll appreciate v.2 more, and that you’ve been given the chance to hear both and decide for yourself.

- The greatest sonic gripe about v.2 is that there’s still something that doesn’t sound grounded about the result. Something that is lacking to tie up all the elements, that exist still in an odd jumble that rattle and hum along together. Maybe it’s a weak percussive presence? Maybe it’s awkwardly mixed vocals? Maybe it’s too much of everything, all the time? Whatever it might be, v.2 still sounds a little clumsy.

- Speaking of drums, how is it that in a band where the leader and most outspoken member is the drummer, and the drummer is (now) the only remaining original member, the drums are so buried and play such an oddly minor sonic role? Ok, you can make a case that implied drums can be just as effective as explicit ones, but in a situation like this album’s, where there’s so much swirling chaos, a stronger rhythmic presence is necessary to properly anchor the lot together... which is even more the case as you can hear the drummer tearing it up under there, but he’s inexplicably held back. Weird.

- What definitely works better are the later, quieter, gentler tracks. There is new nuance and dimension to these. Overall, those are v.2's greatest success.

- However, the single greatest element you’ll enjoy on whatever version of this album is the unique, unplaceable whistling sections on the second song, which make it the most remarkable piece of music the band has ever done.

Maelstrom staffer Mladen Škot recently raised the notion that Negura Bunget’s music is largely overrated. Taking that hypothesis into consideration, it would seem fitting that Maiestrit turned out exactly as it did, and, thinking back into this writer’s personal experience with Negura Bunget’s discography, would explain a lot of things... Maybe instead of looking at Maiestrit as the second coming of a godly band, looking at it rather as a new attempt by an interesting, quirky, somewhat unique, but ultimately not top-level band would reconcile the whole conflict of why this and other Negura Bunget albums weren’t hitting us with nearly the impact that we were expecting them to. (7/10)

Greece is known for its outstanding culture and historical landmarks. It has also spawned some of the greatest progressive metal bands out there. Wastefall comes to mind, and is highly recommended. Cubical Sphere naturally have a similar sound due to infusing the influence from their culture into their music.

They also have incredible jazz sections with a diverse range of chords. Their sound is also a little similar to Cynic at times. The jazz style and over-active guitar work calls for very clean tones, but their tones have more impact than Cynic's latest offering. There's no pop vocals or Auto Tune here. The majority of the vocals are screams, and the occasional clean vocals are superb.

"Kordax" is a stunning piece on its own, and prepares you for what is ahead. "Receurdos" is fast-paced but still incorporates some impressive acoustic guitar licks. "Inertia Pt. I" sees Cubical Sphere breaking out the wah-pedal and laying down some funk.

Album closer "Mambo Leon" is something completely different. The diversity between genres within the latter half of the album is very reminiscent of Estradasphere. This may just be a promotional self-release, but it is highly recommended and shows Cubical Sphere's limitless potential. (8.5/10)

Enemy Reign has the death / grind sound down. Everything sounds as heavy as possible; the grunts are superb. The riffs are generic, but at least they’re punishing. The drummer is very talented. With Means to a Dead End, there's not much more to say.

The sound is emulated perfectly, but it doesn't bring anything new to the table. The songs are put together well, and undoubtedly get a great response in a live setting. Then again, almost any metal band sounds incredible under those circumstances.

There's nothing to keep you hooked outside of how heavy it is. There's no melodic hooks. The riffs are thrash, but not memorable at all. (5/10)

There are re-masters, and then there are re-masters. In metal, for the most part, it’s good to stay away from re-masters: Either they’re just the original master on CD, but re-compressed to sound "louder," but end up sounding shittier; or, they’re exactly the same as the original master, and there’s a false advertisement sticker on the packaging to trick potential consumers.

However, the Displeased Records re-issue of Evoken’s first EP, Shades of Night Descending, is one of the few exceptional remasters that are not only well-worth getting, but worth selling our old version of the album on ebay for as it had become obsolete. We unbelievably got $67 for it.

Which is ridiculous. Not only because the re-issued version has so much bonus material (five songs from demos from 1996 and 1997) that it effectively doubles the album’s running time, and that the bonus material sounds perfectly matched with the album’s titular material, but that it all sounds way, way... way better.

Now, the richness of the low end is more appreciable — where it was soggy murk, now it’s meaty churn. The higher end of the spectrum is brighter, with articulation and character where there was little before. The songs have new life. Most importantly, the re-master never sounds too squished: the re-issue doesn’t seem louder, but rather feels like it’s been given a bunch of new dimensions, like a treasure from an old Spanish galleon brought up and cleaned off, allowing the listener to appreciate the intricacies of the craft, while still retaining its ancient, decayed nature.

And the music? Well, it’s an old record, so it’s secondary to this particular review of a re-issue — but it’s excellent. Slow, atmospheric, monolithic plod; a wandering mood that simultaneously doesn’t feel aimless. Shades of Night Descending 2.0 is about eight times better than the first time around, thanks to the extra material and the masterful sound. The new art is catchier, too. (8/10)

The late Adam Faith was a teen music idol in the late ‘50s / early ‘60s before nourishing a career as an actor. In 1974, after recovering from a car accident (which occurred shortly after Faith produced Roger Daltrey's eponymous, solo debut), Faith returned to the studio to record his own solo release, I Survive – an album of dexterously arranged pop-rock tunes soaked with the bittersweet taste of life.

This 1974 album was co-written and coproduced by Faith and David Courtney (whose similar 1975 debut album, First Day, has also been reissued by Angel Air recently).

Faith approaches the songs with the sensitivity of an actor, trustfully depicting the conflict out of the crafty singer / songwriter material, and yet his vocal performance is somewhat intimately understated.

The album opens with a blasting guest appearance by Ritchie Blackmore, playing his guitar like he had just returned from a Deep Purple Mk-1 session. It is, however, Russ Ballard of Argent who handles most of the guitar work on the album, and together with drummer Bob Henrit (also ex-Argent), bassist Dave Wintour and David Courtney (on piano) make for a tight, caring backing band to support Faith's trustful vocal delivery, as evident by the two opening numbers whose titles hint at the spirit present throughout the recording – "I Survived" and "I Believe In Love."

The album keeps a healthy balance between the contemplative and the energized. An example of this is "Foreign Lady," which, with its lovely piano, accordion and Dixieland-styled soprano sax, is a jolly intermission between the touchy piano ballad "Honey" (featuring Faith singing as if he was on the edge of a heartbreak) and the clever, heartfelt hope to make love work that is found in "Change." The latter, like many of the songs here, benefits from orchestral decorations that add depth and beauty rather than sound kitschy.

An anecdote worth mentioning is that the album also features some contribution by no other than Paul McCartney – singing backup on the thrilling "Star Song" and playing some crazy synth on "Never Say Goodbye." But there's really no need in anecdotes like this to tempt you in picking up this fantastic release. (8.25/10)

Fallen Within’s Intoxicated is another one of those vaguely "core" CDs — you know, the ones with angsted-out, yet very neat screamy vocals, lots of usage of average melodic singing for choruses, some At the Gates influence, perfectly sterile, on-a-grid performances, and fuzzy keyboards. The music, considering it’s meant to be in an aggressive, intense genre, is pretty laid back.

Sum it up for you: Intoxicated is well-produced to the point of boredom, well-played but not inspired, doesn’t feature any memorable riffs, average songs that are not stylistically original for one second, and is pretty much the same level of sonic, stale dynamic the whole time. Reason to get it? None. (4/10)

Anyone still thinking that the Dutch are all a bunch perpetually stoned, Greenpeace loving, Mentos popping, tulip sniffers needs to lend an ear to Fehler’s Adharma and put that delusion to rest once and for all.

Disheveled, pissed off and way more than a little dirty, if these guys aren’t inbred second cousins of the sewer-dwelling scum surfers that were the UK’s Mistress, then evolution has taken a serious turn for the worse and we’re all heading down a very slippery path indeed.

But, you know, fuck it. When the goods are as gloriously damaged as the five tracks here, what’s an extra chromosome between friends? The Fehler fellers, either through design or happenstance, have tapped into a sound evoking early ‘80s Neat Records — monochromatic, primitive, levels way in the red — and wrapped it around some surprisingly adroit playing. But rather than detract, it adds a whole different level of atmosphere that a cleaner production would have neutered; you can practically see the toxic ooze dripping from your speakers over Adharma’s sixteen minutes.

So when EP opener "Season of the Witch" comes barreling at you like a lost Warfare jam, you get a pretty good idea of what to expect. And not. Scrape away the layers and layers of mud, and you’ll find all sorts of not-so-hidden-treasures: black-eyed and bloodied-nose post-metal affectations strewn throughout both "Orchid" and "In Her Eyes," the jagged angles and melodic sensibility found in "Variations on a Theme" and the constantly rolling, almost technicality of "Blinded by Fear."

A fine, filthy debut. (7/10)

Furia builds upon and modernizes black metal with a constant assortment of melodic hooks, clean and coherent production, instrumental breaks, and even a fair deal of clean vocals. Despite being a 15-minute EP, Plon shows a wide range of style and creative execution.

You can hear the anger in every note and agonized yell. They improve on the traditional black metal sound but they don't cross the line. Furia weaves an epic web of black metal without any of the cheese. It's similar to earlier Emperor, but without the horrible production.

The titles and lyrics are entirely in Polish, but that doesn't take away from the experience. Some may argue that it enhances the credibility of the music to some degree. It is angry, and at times, sorrowful. The vocals combined with the expressive instrumentation give Furia a personality that is not shared by many who attempt this style. (7.5/10)

Get ready for the flood of Alcest hangers-on. It’s starting to happen now, but in a couple of years, we’re going to start bemoaning Alcest’s albums... and we love them. But on the other hand, we can still listen to Slaughter of the Soul and get into it, despite the eighteen thousand metalcore bands that have ripped off every last note from that album.

ATMF’s latest promotional material lists two bands as "depressive post-black metal in the vein of Lifelover, Amesoeurs, Lantlos, Katatonia and Alcest." Same wording, like the albums were expressly manufactured to fulfill some quantitative demand.

It turns out that Svarti Loghin’s Drifting Through the Void doesn’t sound like Alcest, which is good. Sure, the relaxed approach to distorting the guitars, the shoegazy elements, and the instances of clean singing that are as far from metal as can be put it fairly solidly in that "post-black metal" genre, but the song approach, style, and sound are very different.

Svarti Loghin’s songs come across more as drifting jams. This is mostly because of the rhythmic element, which sticks a great deal to smoothly groovy, yet fairly generic rock beats. There are some nice shifts into heavier, heads-down, churning territory (without the guitars departing from the ethereal tone throughout the record) with heavy, slow double kick drumming.

Most of the vocals are in the Burzum school of "feeble screams from forests unknown," which work well. When the clean vocals come in that sound like the black metal incarnation of mid-‘90s Pearl Jam (particularly as the writing style also takes on a grungy aspect during these sections), the contrast is so stark that it’s a little amusing. However, the clean vocals are done really well, so much of that is delight.

The sound, again, is on the relaxed side. Svarti Loghin don’t smear their guitars in blasphemy and stuff them down your throat. The drums are sort of thin and lo-fi, but actually sound kind of brittle, like the high-end aspects of their sound shatters with each hit. The vocals are pretty understated in volume, but they always work well in giving the impression of struggle and torment.

Back to the clean vocals again, it would have been nice if Svarti Loghin had included more clean parts, or at least developed what clean parts they have more.

Drifting Through the Void’s first proper song is excellent. The buildup to the clean vocal sections, the transition in rhythmic texture, and the resolution to the arrangements, mixed with the band’s take on the so-called post-black metal style, make for an exciting and original experience.

However, what becomes apparent a couple songs later is that Svarti Loghin do the same song over and over on this record. Now, if this were Panzer Division Marduk, it wouldn’t matter, because the simple-minded approach to all-out aggression didn’t need variation, but this is a different beast all together. Here, the songs involve emotional development and compositional nuance, and considering the would-be highbrow style Svarti Loghin find themselves in, the songs are too formulaic: the build-up to clean vocals is the same device, the transitions to rhythmic shifts are repeated without variation from song to song, the tempos and grooves remain the same from song to song... it gets stale.

The Black Sabbath cover of "Planet Caravan" is an interesting choice and although done well, does not feature a remarkable enough verve, or at least not enough of one to shake up the rut the album has become entrenched in by that point.

In one- or two-song doses, Svarti Loghin seems like genius. The sound and vibe is cool no matter where you are on the record, but too few compositional ideas repeated too many times makes the album feel fairly redundant by the time it’s over. Our recommendation is to check out "Kosmisk Tomhet," see if you like it, then listen to another song, see if you like that, and continue from there. (6.9/10)

Standard. Tales of Dark’s Perdition Calls is a standard album in the mediocre doom style of slow tempo songs that plod along unwaveringly with deep male growls punctuated by pretty female singing.

Perdition Calls uses a good deal of keyboard in their songwriting. It sounds fine. In fact, everything sounds fine. The vocals are all good, the production is nice, the album is an acceptable listen. However, artistically, it sounds like Tales of Dark have picked a style that they’re not really sure where to go with, beyond what has already been done unconvincingly by tons of bands before. (5/10)

Fit to Die (Part 1) is a conceptual power metal album about a man witnessing his own funeral and the people who are attending it. The vocals are so sloppy that you can't tell a single word that is being said, so it doesn't make too much difference. Imagine Timo Kotipelto (Stratovarius) tumbling through a bar in a drunken stupor.

The music itself is nothing we haven't heard before. The power metal does feature a darker tone that you would usually hear, but the chord progressions are not unique at all. The guitar tones sound like they could use a little more gain, and have been scooped out a good bit to make room for the vocals.

As a result, there is way too much open space. You can hear every instrument, but they don't sit together properly. It's like listening to several different instrumental performances from different corners of a room. Fit to Die (Part 1) is very clean, but is missing a lot of body.

It's an interesting concept, though it would have been better if you could tell what was being said. Fit to Die (Part 1)'s clarity gives you the ability to hear every instrument clearly, and for the most part, all of the performances are well done. Not unique or inspired, but performed well. Future is Tomorrow has a lot of potential, and could go far with more cohesion where it really matters. (5.5/10)

If you’re gonna throw yourself into the instrumental band sweepstakes, it’s a given you better be damned confident of your prowess. And if you’re an instrumental band firmly ensconced in the post- rock / metal badlands, you have the additional onus of evocativeness.

A vocalist can cover up for a whole lot of a band’s deficiencies, take away that aspect and you better be packing some Ron Jeremy-esque weaponry. Where does Gathiens fit into this milieu? Put it this way: they’re not going to get laughed out of the bedroom but neither is anyone going to be screaming "oh, god, how is that possibly going to fit!?"

Now you don’t need to wield the biggest tool in the drawer — unexpected moves and technique count for a whole lot. The most damnable praise that can be given to the band is that in my listening notes for Nesh, four out of the seven tracks warranted nothing more than a simple "OK." Which is shame, really, because they certainly have it in ‘em to be a whole lot more than that. Those four songs get caught in a pleasant yet undistinguished no man’s land, devoid of the inevitable crush of Pelican, the sheer beauty of Explosions in the Sky or the schizoid nonchalance of Irepress.

When they manage to bust out of that valium haze, Gathiens makes a fairly persuasive argument for attention. "Alto Above" strikes just the right balance between fragility and sturdiness, whereas the title track spends about 2/3rds of its eight minutes in a slow build, fraught with subtle tension(s) that strain at the song’s edges until it all disperses in a controlled detonation that’s about as viscerally stirring as you could possibly hope for.

"Squall," though, takes a decidedly different tact from the rest of the album; heck, let’s call it post space-rock: sun-baked and amphetamine dosed, adding an amorphous expansiveness to the relaxed drift exhibited on the other tracks. It’s like the band threw on some bell bottoms, dropped just enough acid to get cross-eyed and hijacked a ‘70s Camaro with White Hills and pre-Dopes to Infinity Monster Magnet stuck in the CD player and said, "alright, let’s see what this motherfucker can do" while still maintaining enough sense to keep an eye on the radar detector.

The dudes of Gathiens should take note, then. If nothing else, "Squall" shows that they really oughta think about gussying up their everyday wear with loud colors more often. They wear it well. (5.5/10)

Even though this reviewer is not familiar with Sopor Aeternus' full discography, he regards this particular recording among the very best amid this band's massive musical output.

Es reiten die Toten so schnell sees Sopor Aeternus in its finest hour; dark jugglers in a grotesque circus playing with sordid sounds; Androgynous carnival creatures transforming their wildest and darkest dreams and desires into this nocturnal musical tapestry of medieval sounds and malodorous, Gothic atmospheres. The dark cloth engulfs every sense with perverse warmth and disintegrates any dogma it encounters on its way towards total and complete enchantment.

This album (now re-issued on Season of Mist) is a gem, a truly beautiful and touching recording. This is cabaret-like music with an abundance of additives and twists; the driving force of the music is completely unorthodox. It seems as if a xylophone (or a cembalo), a tuba, a cello and a minimal drum kit are the main players here. At times the overall vibe is Gothic-like, a la Type O Negative, at times rock-ish and more guitar dominated, a la Lacrimosa, at times it focuses on a genuine medieval style, at times militaristic and almost fascist sounding. The genius is to mix it all together and to bring this mixture into perfection. Add to this the half-crazy, almost velvety yet unsettling vocals, and you're for a treat.

Sopor Aeternus & the Ensemble of Shadows is like no other band out there. Es reiten die Toten so schnell (or: The Vampyre Sucking at His Own Vein) is like no other album out there as well. It is unique and singular and therefore worth owning. (9/10)

Moraine is an album of stringed-instrument drifting drone that features some of the best executed examples of the genre ever. The album provides a nigh-constant climax of exquisitely sobering, somber, melancholic music that evokes the majesty of an idyllically pristine ice flow. It is only on a few spots on Moraine where some dissonant passages pop up that prevents this from being a candidate for the top albums of 2010. (8/10)

Graves of Valor’s Salarian Gate is a reasonably exciting death metal album that wears itself out within a few songs by being too much of the same thing all the time. The drums are cool, but the tempo, patterns, and rhythmic application are always the same. The guitars play some fun little licks, and even though they bounce around from part to part in a busy manner, it’s the same kind of busy manner, every song.

This would be better if the songs rose above the mediocre standard of the average technical death metal song. Here, it’s the common songs of a bunch of parts put together, which work well and hold up fine, but as far as music that’s particularly tasty, it’s lacking.

In contrast, there are three memorable sections that punctuate the album. Two relaxed guitar segues, and the last track, which is a slow song, provide some should-be no-brainer variety into the album... sorry, that’s four parts, with the fourth part being the remaining 90% of the record, which is one decent thing done very well, over and over.

Salarian Gate has the kind of production and performances that make it sound like it belongs on Relapse Records. But those aspects are no more than half the battle in making a great record. A good listen, maybe once. (6/10)

Harvestman’s In a Dark Tongue sounds like stoner-influenced guitar drone drift psychedelic post-rock. Most of the album’s time is spent exploring shimmeringly distorted passages that take their time in progressing, or don’t necessarily progress at all, rather embracing their purpose in creating a hanging, fuzzy atmosphere.

It isn’t until the third track or so, which is more oriented in the direction of a proper song, with drums and vocals, that one hears that Harvestman is a side project of Neurosis’ Steve Von Till.

In a Dark Tongue has some interesting moments, but, whether it actually is or not, it suffers from the sense of being a this ‘n’ that record, meaning that the tracks don’t flow n a way that makes them sound like a cohesive piece of work, but rather a collection of tracks culled to make an album. Is that because the individual tracks themselves aren’t particularly strong or have much to say, because this is a relatively dabbling side project of a noted musician’s main band? It is unclear. However, a droney album should have flow as one of its primary goals, and a disrupted sense of that is a pretty big blow. (5.3/10)

Redemption arrived after a 10+ year hiatus as a follow-up to Heavenwood’s second album, Swallow. "13 Moon" and "Me & You" paint a picture of a hard rock band with the occasional death growl. The majority of the singing is layered male and female clean vocals. "Bridge to Neverland" takes a turn to the darker side with heavy use of tremolo and growls.

"Bridge to Neverland" sounds like something you would hear from Novembers Doom. Crushing, detuned guitars and growls with layered cleans during the chorus. The juxtaposition of hard rock grooves with growls and metal tracks is interesting. Perhaps a little off-putting, yet it's good to see a band brave enough to cover two diverse genres that they enjoy.

The hard rock sections aren't very inventive, and they rely on a similar blues key progression. The metal sections that pop out like an interjection are quite well done, and have entertaining riffs. Songs like "Foreclosure" are more slow-paced blues progression, yet the riffs are heavy enough to keep your interest. It's very similar to Alice in Chains in that regard.

Redemption is an album with personality that shows a band rising after a long sleep to create something they enjoy. You can hear the love that Heavenwood put into Redemption. It may be a bit on the simple side, but the overall experience is fairly satisfying. (6.5/10)

Helloween’s Unarmed does the anniversary / best-of album one better by not just compiling songs from other albums, but by seeing the band re-record some of their favorite tracks with their current line-up... and give the lot the "unplugged" treatment that can range from acoustic ballad to funky lounge, to pure acoustic double bass drumming beneath undistorted electric guitar.

The track list is pretty well-chosen (although something from the Helloween / Walls of Jericho album would have been nice), the variety of styles keeps the album fresh, and like any Helloween album, Unarmed is fun.

However... "unarmed." You’d think they would have also unarmed the Auto-Tune on Andi Deris’ voice. Especially considering it’s an "acoustic" record, the digital, treacly sheen on so much of the album’s vocals sounds particularly abhorrent, which drags the album down in a major way. Too bad. (6/10)

Infernal Stronghold’s Godless Noise is one of the best albums of 2009 for very simple yet compelling reasons.

First, the band’s music, which is like crusty black metal, like a bunch of hardcore kids that don’t play hardcore that sucks just didn’t give a fuck and made a black metal band that is so infused with punk’s dirtiest aggression that, goddamn it, if it isn’t the most feral, brutal, intense, energized and inspired album from the last 365 days or so.

Secondly, Godless Noise actually sounds like a well-rehearsed, talented band playing music, together, in the same room, whose result sounds befitting to the kind of thing Godless Noise is supposed to be: dirty, raw, aggressive, lethal, feral, bloodthirsty music that sounds legit. No fancy-pants digital bullshit, gussied-up guitar tones, crappy simulators, or quantized drums — this is ugly, ugly music, and the listening experience is amazing. Seems simple, so how come so few albums sound like this anymore?

Godless Noise is angry, focused, thrilling music. For all the bands (in this issue alone) that are trying to be eviler-than-thou via phoney-baloney, plastic sound that is artificially pumped up, listen to Infernal Stronghold, and see how it’s supposed to be done.

Want a better recommendation that it’s one of the best albums of 2009? It got played no fewer than five times in a row, and that was in one sitting alone. Fuck. Yes. (9.5/10)

Someone in Russia really, really likes Tenhi. So much so, that they’ve not only set out to replicate Finnish band’s Tenhi’s calm, gentle folk meets rock style, but they’ve named their band after Tenhi’s most impactful album, Kauan, and even though they’re Russian, the lyrics are in Finnish.

It’s all good, though, because Aava Tuulen Maa is excellent. Lush, gorgeous acoustic tones mixed with the odd electric one, paired with tasteful, equally relaxing drums. Kauan’s music is introspective, delicate, somber, yet sweet... just like Tenhi’s.

If we’re going to have a side-by-side shootout, however, one ca nsay that Kauan’s vocals are much better than Tenhi’s, so if you’re going to start your foray into this rewarding territory, you should probably start with Aava Tuulen Maa, although the rating of this record ultimately reflects on how original Kauan’s music is.

Aava Tuulen Maa is kind of like the soundtrack to philosophizing about nature and love by a pristine lake. It’s one of the loveliest albums released in 2009. (8/10)

Dream Theater is well-known not only for their instrumental prowess and musical pedigree but also for their astounding numbers of side-projects. The most notable one is Liquid Tension Experiment, an exhilarating instrumental prog / jazz fusion group, which has released two albums: a self-titled 1 and one named Liquid Tension Experiment 2, which were very well-received by the fans. However, one could notice the music becoming more experimental, which worried some people.

As it turns out, during the recording of the second album, John Petrucci's wife went into labor so he had to leave the studio in a tailspin. The remaining musicians thus had quite a bit of paid studio time that would go to waste if they didn't think fast. This was the genesis of Liquid Trio Experiment, which is entirely improvisational and in basically the same style as ‘Tension, sans the guitar.

Those who bemoaned Tension's change in direction really would have a problem with this album because it is even more sporadic than before. The lineup consists of Tony Levin on bass, Jordan Rudess on keyboards, and Mike Portnoy on drums.

The tunes on Spontaneous Combustion are not as cohesive as the ones from the two Tension albums, but they are more enjoyable than one would expect from such an impromptu jam session. The thing to keep in mind is that these three guys are masters at their respective instruments. If regular joes tried such a session it wouldn't turn out half as well.

Petrucci's leads are the glue which the other band members stick their parts to, and his absence inevitably invited everyone else to explore the creative fringes of their playing. As a result, it leaves you with ample wavering, yet a pleasant, organic nature throughout the album.

There's an even greater presence of dynamics and tempo changes here, which is more akin to jazz playing and may be jarring to people accustomed to straightforward metal styles. However, there are many times when Portnoy provides some excellent drum beats that are easy to follow. They almost sound like hip-hop beats at times. Tracks such as "Jazz Odyssey" and "Hawaiian Funk" gracefully reward the listener with what their titles would suggest.

It will definitely be difficult to appreciate this album if you haven't heard any free jazz and fusion, because it goes all over the place. Also, Tony Levin's squawking bass tones can be especially grating and overlong. It's best to approach all of this with a quirky sense of humor and not judge it so seriously, as it shouldn't be judged by the same guidelines as a release that was well-planned in advance. (7.3/10)

Engaging in social awareness, Marshall Law was Britain's answer to both Metallica and Skid Row. On this 1993 release – the band's second full-length album – the vocal style and guitar production scream ‘80s Metallica, but there's also a hymnal quality to the songs, recalling the then-contemporary Skid Row with their occasional vocal harmonies and catchy lines.

Andy Pyke bellows some thrilling, passionate vocals that immediately get stuck in your head. The twin guitar work is perhaps a bit dated (then again, thrash is usually so), but it's vicious in both its rhythmic delivery and in its slashing leads (and comparison with another Birmingham band, Judas Priest, is in place, for mixing accessibility with an uncompromising metal edge).

This release, the heaviest one yet released under the Angel Air banner, features the album in re-mastered form (by its original producer, Robin George), plus a single version of one of the album tracks. The sound is simply terrific, rare in the emphasis and clarity given to the instruments – the cymbals sounds like a shower of metallic objects, but even more noticeable is the handling of the lower, audible range.

Like on most of the album, the bass presence on "Leviathan" is mammoth, and there's a point towards its end where the bass becomes even deeper – a truly mind-blowing way to end this top-notch thrash album and the warm visit back in time that is an integral part of this listening experience. (8/10)

Mass Extinction brings some Irish thrash to the world with Creations Undoing. The three-song EP sounds a lot like Kreator and similar thrash bands, and the political theme has been done to death. It must be an unspoken rule of thrash that all CDs must be political.

For a self-released EP, the production is impressive. The drummer has a fantastic snare sound, and his kit as a whole sounds like a great setup.

The songs aren't very unique, as the riffs are about as original as the lyrical content. However, Creations Undoing's production is both clean and heavy, which is a great asset for a thrash band.

This EP shows Mass Extinction going in the right direction. Most people won't discredit them for using the common thrash lyrical theme. They need to find their own sound, however, that will set them apart from the rest. (5/10)

Germany’s Mob Rules’ Radical Peace has nothing to do stylistically with Dio-era Black Sabbath. Rather, it’s an entry into the world of melodic power/progressive metal. And it’s a fine one.

Radical Peace is largely a slow to mid-paced power metal record that still chugs along with energy and dynamics. As is often the case in this genre, it might take a few listens for Mob Rules’ compositions to take hold, but soon enough you’ll recognize and remember the band’s original work, or even wake up with one of their tunes in your head.

Radical Peace works because Mob Rules know how to write a song, have a great singer, people that play their instruments well, and have a fittingly polished sound.

Even their 18+ minute track, centered on the assassination of JFK and the subsequent murder of Lee Harvey Oswald, is broken down into six smaller tracks that hold together well in their own right, so you’d never notice it was another one of those marathon tracks that prog metal bands often seem to feel is a requisite to belonging in the genre.

Radical Peace has good song variety, catchy parts, professional performances, and is an expertly assembled record. Good work. (7.5/10)

Moving Crosscurrent of Time is like a mix of third-rate Agalloch and Dark Tranquillity, played well and with no real production flaws to speak of. However, the entire album sounds tepid and uninspired, with ho-hum songs that only rarely, if ever, have fleeting flashes of tastiness. It’s not offensive, but one listen is all you might ever give it. (5/10)

If this writer can offer his own lament, it’s bands in metal trying to be all deeply emotional by using cheesy, practically spoken passages, all loud and overt, about whatever cliched nonsense their lyrics are about.

Here’s why this is problematic:

1) It kills momentum, especially when it happens practically every song, like it does on Broken Leaf.

2) If it is to happen every song, the lyrics better be the most poetic, poignant thing ever, delivered in the kind of voice you’d rank up there with Ian McKellan. Sadly, it is rather the usual "I’m so morose and beautiful, listen how you can tell by how I deliver these spoken, kinda whispery lyrics" that just sucks. And when they go  "dear child, why don’t you cry tonight, dear child, where did you go last night?" does not help at all.

3) It isn’t musical. And this is supposed to be an album of music. One would think.

The rest of Broken Leaf is at least passable. The harsh doom vocals are well-done, the production is respectable, the drums have an unusual tasty punch, the tones are good, and the music is not bad at all — not anything near amazingly emotional or original, but good. It’s the goddamn talking vocals that not only happen all the time, but that are so loud it forces the listener to consider them as the centerpiece of the song, which makes the songs fall flat. My Lament is far from the first band to do this, and with a name like My Lament, you can guess what other bands are that do. My Lament... it’s like my rant, my Gothy bitch session. Lamentable? (4/10)

The Impostor is a heavy, pummeling, and above all, dynamic thrash record that deserves your attention.

The production is perfectly balanced, and marries the sonic perfection of the new with the raw aggression of the old. While all performances are head-bangingly spot on, it’s mostly the drummer that brings the most to the songs, infusing delicious rhythms that keep the songs alive at all times.

Don’t look for the latest installment of retro-thrash revival here. Braindamage is a thrash band that infuses sporadic blastbeats and its own sense of groove aplenty... but fear not, there’s no risk this group will be referred to with any use of the word "core" in it.

While The Impostor’s songs aren’t exactly memorable after the album’s over, they are catchy and infectious while you listen to the album, so while you won’t remember much specifically about any song in particular, you will want to listen again, because the ride is great. What Braindamage might lack in hooks, they make up for in the ability to kick ass, and sound great while they’re at it. (8/10)

Dirge Rep leaves Enslaved’s drum throne because it’s false, or something, and decided to concentrate on the way more true black metal band he’s in, Orcustus, which has been around way longer than its discography might lead you to believe.

That was 2003... it took from then till 2009 for Orcustus to get its ass in gear and release an album. Finally, we get the self-titled CD, whose striking art visually heralds a worthwhile long wait.

Orcustus sounds right: The guitars have a righteously dirty buzz, the drums sound mean and real, and the vocals have the right scathing delivery... take the album on sound alone, and you can celebrate another entry into the more rare world of true Norwegian black metal...

... except the album is a bore.

Right, you still have to write music, and Orcustus’ songs don’t really go anywhere at best, and suck at worst (and are brought down even farther by stupid sound clips about knives pointing at people’s groins and a countdown to pulling a trigger). All this waiting, hype, all-star line up (like Infernus of Gorgoroth)... for this?

In the end, it’s art=great, music=not. (4.5/10)

Eerie Art Records’ output tends to be pretty good at the very least, but not this time with Obitus’ The March of the Drones. The going is as tight as the average American’s budget, but everything, and the drums especially, sounds so synthetic and artificial that it might as well have been made by a computer program.

It’s rage, rage, rage, all the time, with the kind of scathing yet noodly, flowery riffs that Sweden has put on the black metal map, with drums that make Absentia Lunae’s or Mayhem’s sound like Led Zeppelin’s. The music is intense, but the presence of a soul is suspect.

Add to that how album is punctuated by passages of some "scientist" "annotating" an "autopsy" that in actuality sounds like some nerdy Swedish kid trying his best to sound like a very serious, edgy American doctor, and you've got The March of the Drones in a nutshell: it’s a dorkfest. Oh, bite us. (5/10)

Nox Aurea’s Via Gnosis is largely good but standard fare slow, plodding doom metal with keyboard atmosphere to thicken it up. The instruments sound nice (post production was handled by Andy LaRocque), but the vocals, which are also technically fine, can often seem too loud in comparison.

Or maybe it’s that Nox Aurea sound like they’re going through motions that aren’t that original or inspired. Specifically, the band has an unfortunate knack for killing the momentum of its creations with a languid break with spoken passage in that affected male voice common to doom metal that wants to tell you how morbidly beautiful it is in dying. It’s silly and groanworthy, even on the first time. Even sillier than the female singing on Via Gnosis, which is too girly and dainty for the rest of what Nox Aurea is trying to do.

If you have to have all things doom, you could do worse than Via Gnosis. It’s a decent album, but then again, if you have some great doom records, why not listen to those instead, for the millionth time? (5/10)

PS: How does it work out that there are six people in Nox Aurea, but three of them play "all instruments," and a fourth plays drums?

It’s rare when there’s an instrumental rock band that can pull off making music that doesn’t make you wish there were vocals. Despite making a solid, respected career out of it, Pelican is still not one of the minority in the above situation.

Pelican’s music is doggedly boring, and What We All Come to Need is as good an example of that as any. The tracks either sound like introductory build-up to a good song, which never arrives and you come to realize that the five-minute intro in fact was the song and now it’s time for another introduction to something that doesn’t materialize — or the music sounds like a collection of eight or so examples of the best rock-oriented music possibly found in porn DVD menus, strung together seamlessly to make them sound like they were all played in one go.

There is no passion in What We All Come to Need. It’s flat, generic, sort of mathy rock with no vocals that has little to no dynamics in the way it's played. It’s kind of laid-back slow / mid-tempo banality that doesn’t offend so much as it forcefully relegates itself to the background. And what musician sets out to make sounds intended as background music? (5/10)

Phenomenon is an angy, aggressive, blast-heavy black metal album whose blind adherence to such values has rendered it one-dimensional.

The vocals are scathingly in your face. The drums are unwaveringly blasting in your face. The guitars bite at your face... but it’s at the expense of true feeling. And while it’s loud and in your face, it’s still strangely dainty and digitally clean. The guitars are like toys, the drum hits come in neat little packages, and the vocals are too loud, one-dimensional, and bare.

Looking at the production, here’s another album of super neat but distorted, processed music that makes the mistake of hailing the digial god as the righteous voice of black metal, and confusing making everything as forcibly, deliberately clear with being impactful... when what’s really happening is everything gets in everything else’s way. (5.2/10)

Compare to label mates Aenaon (reviewed in this issue), Sokrovenno has got it more right in that its music conveys emotions, and gives more room for them to develop. Case in point is that the stillest parts of De Rerum Natura are some of the album’s best — where either a more relaxed tone or riffs whose notes are allowed to ring out more convey more feeling to the listener.

It’s a shame, though, that Sokrovenno chose to suffocate its album, somewhat, with too much compression: Where turning the music up to further the development of its expression would be in order, you end up turning it down because of the grating digital patina and harmonics on the vocals and guitars. The compositions have room to breathe... why doesn’t the production?

If you’re looking for a truly amazing black metal experience from Italy, try Spite Extreme Wing’s Magnificat II — it’s excellent music with uncommonly excellent sound, having been recorded in a church, which yields and exquisitely natural, haunting, heavey reverberance to the album. As it is, Sokrovenno has made a good album, but better post-production decisions would have gotten it a higher score. (6/10)

A Picture of a Picture ‘s heavy, droning atmosphere is along the lines of what we’ve come to expect from an Aidan Baker album. While the vibes can be pleasantly relaxing (as testified by our blissful sleep rendered more rejuvenating by the quiet depth of sound and gentle shifts in the drone compositions in a warm, sunny, vacant park through the album’s last track) there is some aspect of A Picture of a Picture that is too mechanical, like the bulk of the music was not physically played by human hands, but rather programmed and then manipulated.

This impression seems incongruous when considering this album was purportedly recorded live, but regardless, there is something strongly lacking here that doesn’t make A Picture of a Picture the living, breathing entity that Baker’s best works with Nadja and solo have.

While A Picture of a Picture is a more satisfying droning experience than some of the more recent Nadja albums (with Under a Jaguar Sun coming most strongly to mind) it’s definitely in the lower tier of this wonderful musician’s output. (6/10)

Symphonic, pseudo-proggy, sorta-death metal band Persefone is from Andorra, but their third album, Shin-Ken, is obsessed with Japan. Kind of weird and a shame, considering that, as far as geography and culture goes, being from a tiny mountain country between France and Spain, where there are more sheep than people, is a much more interesting aspect than yet another hobbyist-level version of samurai worship.

Anyway, the music. It’s blazing. It changes direction a lot. It’s got lots of different vocal approaches. Plenty of noodly solos. Some quiet, some funky musical elements that sound designed to catch the listener off guard. A spoken part in Japanese.

Despite all this, Shin-Ken is another album full of sound and fury that ultimately signifies nothing. The songs proper are essentially all the same, and damned if we can remember how any of them go, or were engaged in any of them while they were going. The solos are all technically impressive, but they might as well be the same solo — seemingly the same length, serving the same purpose, and featuring the same notes.

The time or two where Persefone shine, or are at least memorable, is during the three or so quiet, reserved parts (one of which is pretty cheesy), the highlight being around track three, where a pretty tasty relaxed vibe is achieved, and thankfully developed. It would have been nice had that vein been explored more, rather than adhering to this (call it "modern metal") approach of throwing as many elements that the band can think of into a blender and hoping something amazing will come out. (4.9/10)

The Pineapple Thief sounds like the indie rock version of progressive rock. The best-of compilation 3000 Days makes the first-time listener draw parallels to Porcupine Tree’s quieter moments, an image as to what Sigur Ros might sound like if it embodied a rock band mentality something along the lines of Coldplay, or material in the vein of the commonly referred-to style of "singer/songwriter," but with a full band, and more complex compositions. The music rarely gets more intense than that: not at all on disk one, and a bit into heavier territory on disk two.

The vocals are certainly the focal point of the band. The voice is clean and adept, conveying emotional subtlety and frailty without any technical issues to get in the way. However, as nice as listen as The Pineapple Thief’s songs are to digest in a passive manner, the level of visceral emotion, even if on more of a subdued level, is not particularly high. The songs are nice, 3000 Days sounds nothing like a compilation but rather a long studio album, the performances and production are pro all the way, but they aren’t amazing. If you like Coldplay a lot, you might get more mileage out of The Pineapple Thief. Otherwise, 3000 Days offers something you can appreciate, but might not be compelled to put on over another laid-back, indie/prog album that you might enjoy. (6/10)

From Plutonium Orange’s Volume’s logo font, to the art, to the band name, you’ll probably think you’re in for something like Orange Goblin meets Monster Magnet... especially when noticing how this album is being promoted as "stoner rock."

Stoner rock. Shudder. A genre all about rehashing the same tired blues riffs that have been done well only once before, by seminal band Black Sabbath.

But wait, maybe there’s some importance in the detail of this being classified as "melodic stoner." One thing’s for sure, the music isn’t "Sweet Leaf," version #4,5866, but rather quite modern-sounding heavy rock. And would you believe it, here’s a stoner rock band whose vocalist isn’t the third-rate vocalist with the stereotypical pot metal delivery.

The vocals hold their own quite well, in fact. The songs are heavy, but happy and fun-loving to the last, making Volume a highly listenable album with great, smooth production with very nice, bright bass sound, trbele that cuts through superbly, and excellent-sounding drums. However, easy to listen to isn’t inseparable from genius, and while Volume is a very good album, the songs go by pleasantly, but not particularly memorably. (6.6/10)

Post Mortem’s Message From the Dead reminds somewhat of the bluesy, filthy death metal stylings of Acid Bath... that is, if you took Acid Bath minus the remarkable dynamics, the edgy riffs, the interesting song structures, the haunting, clean vocals, the bitterly evil harsh vox, and the truly upsetting lyrics.

Essentially, take the basic style of Acid Bath, but with repetitive, uninteresting song structures, riffs that are not much more than ok, solid but dull performances, and precious little dynamics in the album (and none from song to song), and a production that’s fine but, again, bland, and wrap it up in an album with art that will make no one who views it say, "hey, that looks pretty good," and you’ve got Message From the Dead.

The most remarkable aspect of this album is that Mirai from Sigh guests on vocals, and although his vocals are better here than they are in Sigh, that’s not saying much, because Sigh’s are some of the worst in a well-known band, ever. They’re decent here, but, like the rest of the album’s aspects, just too plain and bare-bones. (4/10)

This new release by one of avant rock's premier ensembles, Present, comprises a brand new studio recording (on an audio CD) and a DVD filled with live footage.

Present's compositions often resemble one another, each moderately develops a theme (that's why the pieces can be quite long!) by way of alternating leading musical instruments (guitars, sax, piano), introducing new melodic lines along already established musical sentences and harmonizations.

The new recording is a bit of a letdown, basically because it fails to deliver the above formula with the appropriate production. It consists of sterile and somewhat estranged readings of two relatively new compositions – "Vertiges" and "A Last Drop" — as well as a terrorizing revisit of "Jack The Ripper" (a classic title by Univers Zero... from which Roger Trigaux, Present's leader, emerged).

We say "sterile" because there's no escape from comparing these recordings with the live performance of these same tracks that appear on the DVD portion — all of which sound more powerful and dynamic compared to the studio counterparts, even though the live mix of the Portugal 2006 footage is blunter (or perhaps because of this — it is a bit tedious to have everything just in place). Maybe it's the added visual dimension that affected our judgment, but we would like to believe it hasn't.

Anyway, the DVD is the real reason to get this release. It is all that either a Present fan or a newbie could hope for: almost three hours (!) manifesting the band in the ultimate form to experience it: in a live setting.

The electric set from France's 2007 "Rock in Opposition" event is truly electrifying – it is dark yet vivid, featuring some truly disturbing playing. In fact, watching the band's 26-minute performance of its classic "Promenade au fond d'un canal" — which culminates with the scene of the manically looking guest Laurent Van Gorp hitting a metal tube, while drummer extraordinaire Dave Kerman lashes his drums with a chain and Roger Trigaux smashes his guitar against his keyboards and the floor – redefines the term "disturbing."

The acoustic "Two Pianos and Percussion" set from the same event is unique and remarkable, with two pianists occupying center stage surrounded by five band members playing percussion (each with his own kit). The knotty, slowly developing motifs that are Present's trademark correspond clearer than ever with their chamber music roots on the 24-minute execution of "Souls for Sale," complete with terrifying vocals that contribute to its dungeon atmosphere; and on the 17 minutes of "Vertiges."

The video editing manages to put the viewer right at the heart of things, and the sound is striking, bringing out the dynamics and nuances while remaining sinister in its vibe.

The aforementioned footage from the 2006 Gouveia Art Rock Festival in Portugal boosts with "The Limping Little Girl," which has the influence of "Larks Tongues in Aspic"-era King Crimson written all over it, only taken to an even more extremely twisted corner. It then continues with performance of the two new titles mentioned above.

The archival videos section offers less polished footage of earlier live and studio performance, of which a complete, live execution of "Delusions" is the most rewarding. Clocking at over thirty minutes, these make for a nice overview of the band in the ‘90s and early 2000s.

To sum things up, Barbaro (ma non troppo), for its live content, is a must-have release for anyone who likes avant rock. A word of advice though – don't swallow too much of it at the same time, as it is guaranteed to mess up your brain. (8/10)

Pyha’s The Haunted House is nothing short of what you’d expect from the ever cult, damaged, uniquely emotional and artistic output of tUMULt’s black metal stable. Another album from this label, Diamatregon’s Crossroads, has made this writer’s black metal album of the year 2009, and now throw Pyha onto the top of the year list, too.

The Haunted House is a musically simple album. Super fuzzy, blown out guitar, very basic drum machine that picks one loping, plodding, limping, jagged beat per song and sticks with it, the best damn weedy keyboards ever, conveying emotion like we never knew janky keyboards could.

Where a million albums with similar elements should and do go wrong, Pyha goes right, like with the keyboards. Another example is the use of sound clips, normally an abhorrent cluttering element to stumble on during the journey through a record. Here, the clips of women crying or other less-identifiable sounds that seem like a fine audial pairing to the images of war and genocide (depicted in the album’s digipak in what we presume is Korea), and the record would be less strong without them.

And then there are the vocals. Harrowing, tortured black metal vocals with a variety of approaches to performance and production bring much depth, but the icing on the cake are the sections with moaning, almost ritualistic chanting, as blown-out and damaged-sounding as any of the other elements on the record, serving as a focus point of the unadulterated miasma of mourning, screaming forth at all times with a unique voice.

And all that is without throwing in Pyha’s cult aspect, for Pyha is not only the product of one person, which is of casual (and unsurprising) interest, but it’s one person from South Korea, which is more rare, and that one person was 11 years old when the album was recorded, which seems impossible.

What’s astounding about it is what The Haunted House does to the imagination. Pyha’s greatest asset is the sonic portal it provides as a vista into the depths of the tortured part of one person’s soul. It’s like a direct conduit to that place, and the view is stark, bare, uncensored, uncomfortable, ugly, frightening, beautiful, and ultimately, moving. Add to that what the imagination can conjur up about how an 11-year old in particular could create such a vista, where all this emotion and expression is coming from, the person’s life story, leads to interpolations that stay with you long after the record is over.

Pyha’s The Haunted House is not great music, but it is great art, if by great art we are talking about a work that deeply moves, even unhinges, the audience. In that regard, it is one of the best black metal albums ever, and one of the albums of the year 2009. (9/10)

Spiritus Mortis’ style is like a bluesier Candlemass that’s been strongly influenced by Judas Priest. The songs have palpable panache, the style is interesting, and the performances are good. However, there’s an unshakable goofiness to it all, from a song that keeps going on and on about "the man of steel" (try not to picture Superman) to cheesy blues trappings, to elements that, if not over the line of metal cliche, are dangerously close to it. (6/10)

Stigma’s Concerto for the Undead busts out with sharp, punchy drums, finely-honed guitars, and energetic production. The style is part At the Gates with a bit of Necrophagist, brought to you with vibrant aggression.

However, as tasty as the intros, occurences of novel sonic ideas, and performances are, there’s something hollow about the music, which can be best summarized in one term: short-haired metal. It’s intense and fun, but there’s something "-core" about the content that makes all the songs the same kind of aimless, the same kind of lots of parts together with no tasteful end, the same result of following form with no soul.

Flip the insert over, and sure enough, there are four semi-hipster-looking kids who are at the same time trying to look like the new coming of retro thrash, mugging and goofing around a comic book. Um, yeah, good work, but you still have to write songs. (5.9/10)

Mortal Aspirations is a mix of death and doom metal. There’s a lot of mid-paced, double kicking, riffing plod, heavy-keyboard laden atmosphere, rich, low death vocals, and gradual melodic progressions.

Raventale’s main musical device is to create songs that hang and linger, always in a way that is well done — resulting in a solid, quality album whose worth is more about the quality of the atmosphere and the space it occupies rather than the outstanding aspects of any one song. Yes, it all kind of blends together, but the execution and superb sound (turn Mortal Aspirations up, and it gets even better) make this a recommended listen. And it turns out Raventale is all the work of one guy. Impressive. (7.5/10)

Thankfully behind us are the days when all those terrible tribute CDs came out on Dwell Records. It was tribute CD after tribute CD, featuring a dozen bands you’d never heard of before and you’d never hear of again.

Not so with Solitude Productions’ Tribute to Thergothon. The doom bands paying tribute here are tip-top: Asunder, Evoken, Colosseum, Aarni, and Worship. And the tracks they turn out are superb — perhaps even better than some of the original music that Thergothon recorded.

Being two CDs, however, means that Rising of Yog-Sothoth can get a little long in the tooth, and vary in quality... but not so much as making you think someone snuck a different album into your player while you were blissed out on crushing doom metal. Pretty much everything on disk one until Worship’s (track 7) cut is great, and a few songs on the 2^nd disk are highlights, including one with some actual signing (!).

Finally, what makes this comp also kind of neat is how versions of the same Thergothon song can be interpreted very differently from band to band, with the difference between Asunder and Inter Arbores’ versions of "Who Rides the Astral Winds" being the first example that comes to mind.

Rising of Yog Sothoth is a very rare compilation in that it is relevant in the modern day of CDRs and mp3s in that all the tracks were made specifically for this album. In that sense, it is more of a 17-way split than a comp. The packaging is simple yet attractive, and reading through the booklet makes you want to find out more about the individual bands, as well as go check out how all these interpretations compare to the originals. Fun! (7.5/10)

We’re pretty sure either the guy that keeps putting out S.C.A.L.P. is either in the band or owes them a huge favor. Or maybe S.C.A.L.P. is also part of the Russian mafia, and you’d better put these CDs out, unless hanging by your thumbs sounds appealing to you.

Groan. Another acronym band name. We’re going to venture a guess that it stands for nothing that can’t be retarded. Oh, here it is... "Sense’s Calming At dead Lament’s Places." You be the judge.

Ok, ok, the music on Through Eternity (which pre-dates the last, solidly below-average CD we reviewed an issue or two ago by 12 years) is kind of more interesting than Chuzhaya Voina in that it’s more epic, more poignant, more atmospheric, more expressive, it’s of little consideration in light of the poor singing, bad MIDI keyboards, stale drum machine, and bedroom-demo level production, showcasing songs that aren’t bad, but are much worse considering how it all sounds. (3/10)

This doesn't work. Okay, the drumming is way, way better than on Hardworlder, but Slough Feg sounds just... tired. Half-assed. No real songs, and not much effort was done to try and make them. What you get, instead, are a couple of lines of vocals — and you've heard them before, probably on other Slough Feg albums — and they are more irritating than inspired.

You get long instrumental sections filling the space until the endings of the songs. And you've heard those before too: old-school progressive rock and some galloping rhythms. So, instead of feeling like you were introduced into something, or like you are listening to a beginning, middle or an ending of a song, most often you just find yourself listening to hard rock solos and wondering why they came or why the song doesn't continue after that.

As a curiosity, one song actually stops before turning into a long medley section, but most bands wouldn't call that a song. All in all, there are maybe five minutes of actual, coherent music on Ape Uprising!... and that's out of barely 38 minutes of this CD.

(The Lord Weird) Slough Feg has been know to do much, much better, but this is already the second tired, dull album in a row. Why don't they take a break until they actually have something to say again? (4/10)

With A Great Divide, Suspyre walks the thin black line between epic prog and cheese. Cheese is synonymous with power metal in a lot of scenarios. Cheese is also evident in a lot of conceptual prog wherein the album follows a central storyline. It doesn't detract from the quality of the music, and some people enjoy this kind of music solely for those elements.

Suspyre sounds like the love-child of Dream Theater and Symphony X. Intricate guitar work is complemented by what is becoming the standard prog metal voice. A dash of Russell Allen here, a touch of James LaBrie there.

A Great Divide sounds fantastic. They keep the music interesting, and don't dwell on any particular motif for too long. "The Spirit" is a good example of this. The ballad clocks in at 3:19 whereas the previous high-caliber metal number, "The Singer," clocks in at a whopping 9:00. At no point will you exclaim, "They've repeated this part five times!"

It's hard to believe A Great Divide is only Suspyre’s second album, because it belongs in the upper tier of prog metal albums. (7.9/10)

Theatre of Tragedy’s Forever Is the World is a fine collection of gothy, rocky, metally mellifluous tunes that go down easy. The clean singing is excellent, the songs always sound as if they’re on sturdy ground, and the album is never unpleasant to listen to.

Except.

Except the occasional element of gruff "deathgrowl" vocals, which shows once again that if the main MO is pretty, sweet female vocals, having some guy do the cookie monster hocking up a loogie is basically like shitting on what has been strived for. And particularly, particularly when cussing is involved. Hey, wouldn’t you think that a band with a name like Theatre of Tragedy and doing this kind of music would be aiming for a high-brow, erudite, graceful image? So how about keeping your "motherfuckers" to yourselves, eh? (6.2/10)

To those of you who are familiar with the current British rock scene, the name Theo Travis needs no introduction. To those of you who are not, we mention that Travis is a busy session man, who played with the likes of Porcupine Tree, Gong and Tangent. But being a hired gun is only part of Travis' repertoire as he released numerous albums as a leader, of which Double Talk is the latest.

It was Pete Townsend who wrote about the search "for a note, pure and easy," and it seems like Travis has found it. Actually, not just one note, but an ocean plenty of these notes.

Travis' playing on Double Talk is clean and lyrical, especially when he holds to soprano sax (which makes this all the more impressive as a clean soprano playing such as his is seldom heard). Perhaps it is this cleanness which allows his notes to be like clay in the hands of the potter, making him such a wanted player.

But purity isn't all that Travis has to offer! He is an exceptionally passionate player, and when he pulls the tenor he sounds almost as full as John Coltrane did playing ballads.

Apart from a cover of Pink Floyd's "See Emily Play," carried out with wicked wah-wah sax, the material on this album is original, and the fact that these original tunes are so taking, delicate, nuanced and finely structured mark Travis as a superb composer.

The music blends a sensitive rock attitude with jazz maneuvers ("progressive jazz," if you insist), and benefits from the top-notch (and bass-less) band that Travis assembled for the recording: Mike Outram plays cranked yet captivating guitar lines, Roy Dodds is responsible not only for the precise timekeeping but also for a mist of gentle strokes, and Pete Whittaker is brilliant on the Hammond organ. Even the rutted cat imagery coming out of the intentionally messy "The Relegation Of Pluto" sounds so single-minded in the hands of this crafty band!

The album also features a special guest – King Crimson's Robert Fripp. This is not be taken for granted – Fripp not only plays on three of the tracks, but also co-composed one of these, and the presence of Fripp's guitar soundscapes takes the album one level further in terms of ingenuity.

Travis brings the beauty of Fripp's bed of sounds to a full blossom and fulfills the potential of Fripp's live electronics technique, which actually deserves to be practiced much more widely (it would be sad to see such a terrific artistic tool extinct once Fripp is gone). In fact, it seems like both Fripp and Travis were satisfied with the results, so much that they have since released two albums as a duo – 2008's magical Thread and the brand new Live at Coventry Cathedral. (9.5/10)

Unsilence plays an appealing style of melodic doom that evokes the reverence of a vision of the Gaelic old world, from the Celtic-flavored chord progressions to the singing, which sounds like it comes from an Irish tradition.

Under a Torn Sky is thick with atmosphere that hangs in a heavy yet lovely way... and always without the use of keyboards. Unsilence is very good at crafting a mood that, although not necessarily catchy, is always entrancing enough to keep you listening.

What holds this album back from a stronger recommendation is the singing. While the style is interesting, and the implementation of said style is done well enough, there’s still something in the singer’s range that he doesn’t have full control over, resulting in a sound that often has an unpleasant weedy quality to it.

The production, on the other hand, is quite nice, infusing the music with an appropriate warm weight.

Under a Torn Sky is regardless a good album. You might want to check out some samples if you’re into melodic, Celtic-flavored doom like Solstice’s New Dark Age (the best melodic doom album of all time), but with a warmer, cozier, less epic feel. Good work, but for next time, Unsilence can improve upon the fine road they’re traveling by infusing their music with more dynamics and polishing up the vocals. (6.5/10)

If there’s guitar hero-type music that isn’t about a bunch of stellar musicians noodling in a restrained enough fashion so that a main stellar musician can noodle like no one’s business, it’s in the minority. Steve Vai’s band is the pinnacle of the majority: music that is more about a bunch of notes that sound really difficult to string together, played perfectly, offering much as far as pure technicality is concerned, but offering little in terms of an emotive, visceral experience, with not a single vocal, or trace of a song, to be found... and all on a 2-DVD set spanning almost four hours of excellent-sounding, well-shot cheesy posing, incessant musical wankery, dizzying technical ability, but lacking a sense of artistry or musical relevance, Where the Wild Things Are is like a visual testament to the musical equivalent of someone who can juggle more objects at once than anyone else, and with about as much emotive impact. (Yawn/10)

White Mice’s Ganjahovahdose’s churning, repetitive drum patterns, sludgy guitars, and arrhythmic anguished screaming isn’t something you’ve quite heard before, but that doesn’t make it good. Rather, it’s obnoxious, unmemorable, samey, and pointless. You might be able to like it as far as art breaking new ground, but we couldn’t. (2/10)

Not at all heavy as Primus, and hardly fit to be titled "rock music" at all, Of Fungi and Foe is a collection of esoteric songs that incorporates Les Claypool's typical storytelling (not totally unlike Tom Waits) with tribal music, a touch of avant-garde and, as expected, slick bass work.

Apart from the dominant bass, which is occasionally played arco in a manner that colors the songs with shades of dramatic theatrics, there is also a fine usage of vibes on the album, and these enhance the songs' avant-garde tinge. "What Would Sir George Martin Do" is worth inspecting as a showcase of this.

Claypool often depicts human characters, and his tales are, at large, provoking, some even mesmerizing, in their quirky way (the "don't drink and drive" moral of "Ol' Rosco," for example).

The fact that throughout his career Claypool has managed to get away with vocals that are far from being qualified for singing is simply admirable, and his vocal performance on this album is probably his most accomplished yet: It seems like he had found just the right balance between reciting and singing, utilizing his thin voice with the appropriate effects and phonetics.

The next challenge that Claypool faces is to transfer his current musical agenda to the stage, as judging by his live performance in Tel Aviv in March, 2010, he still feels obliged to fulfill his reputation as Primus' frontman, therefore delivering a disappointing compromise between his past and his present. (7.5/10)

The musical vision of Fat Again might not be as refreshing as those found on the two other 2009 releases we reviewed by the AltrOck label (miRthkon's Vehicle and Kurai's self titled), but it is for its share about as exciting... which is all the more commendable.

Steensland is a Swedish, multi-instrumentalist and composer who has been on the scene for over 15 years now. On Fat Again, he delivers his hybrid of progressive rock and contemporary classical music. True, this marriage has been done before, basically being the foundation behind avant rock, and yet the compositions here bear a fresh spirit.

The 16-minute opening track ("Der Klang Von 'Music'") has a scent of Magma combined with a lighter touch of classic progressive-rock. Some sections of this piece are enhanced by fuzzy playing (check out the keyboards), holding playfulness that is often absent from avant rock; but then you get some dark accordion and bass playing that are reminiscent of Univers Zero. The result at times sounds a bit like a twisted, wicked take on ‘70s Canterbury music.

The second track, running for exactly two minutes, finds Steensland in church choir music mood, while the seven tracks that follow (some are even shorter, while maintaining an admirable flow) are comparable to the art rock that Cheer-Accident explored on its latest release (Fear Draws Misfortune, also reviewed in this issue), perhaps with more emphasis on classical music composing. Amongst these, "Hide & Seek," due to its relatively increased length (eight minutes), is a true showcase of the artistic vision behind this release, with Steensland combining the forceful, unrelenting drive of the opening track with the phonetic, choir vocalism. Morgan Agren (a Frank Zappa alumnus, and a co-leader of Mats / Morgan) handles the drums here, as throughout the album, with the appropriate dexterity, combining both classical music and rock worlds.

The album loses a tad of momentum towards the end, as the 20-minute "The Lion Tamer" finishes with an anti-climax. Still, this same piece also features some terrific ELP-styled scenes that sound almost like a modern adaptation of the "Tarkus" (especially the war themes), and are well worth digging for.

We must throw in a good word for the small Italy-based label AltrOck for delivering such top quality music in 2009. We hope it will keep up this trend in 2010! (8.25/10)

Expecting a romantic affair on Since My Soul Loved," the latest release by pianist-composer Yitzhak Yedid, is perhaps trivial in the light of both its title and Yedid's previous works. The essence of this four movement piece is even better described as tragic.

In fact, Since My Soul Loved – with the keen execution captured here in encompassing, punching sound (this is one album that deserves to be experienced strictly through hi-fi equipment, as there are so many fine audible nuances to absorb) — is so painfully striking that the listener is most likely to become paralyzed to its impact, one way or the other.

The elegiac nature of the piece is stated from early stages of the first movement, by means of desperate string instruments arco playing that sounds like a cry, rising higher and higher to heaven and then circling above with the presence of a lost entity, all at once interspersed with nailing piano strikes signaling heartbreak and earthly grief. The second movement would later expose more aggressive and chaotic timbres of ruin and frustration.

The composition is recognizably Yedid's, with his wedding of east and west, written and improvised. Yedid brilliantly harnesses his piano playing technique to produce a meaningful, singular outcome, as exhibited, for instance, on the first movement — where his percussive piano bears an Arabic flavor — and on the opening part of the third movement where his plucking echoes a harp.

The strings make for a part ceremonial, part emotional storm. While the music is dynamic and engaging in both its harmonics and polyphonies, as is often the case with Yedid's music, it feels as if the gifted players — Daniel Hoffman on violin, Galia Hai on viola, Jonathan Gotlibovich on cello and Ora Boasson Horev on contrabass — were given more freedom on this 54-minute performance than on some of Yedid's previous outings, bringing about a more openly reflective and moving experience. (9.5/10)

After leaving the jazz-rock outfit If, sax player Dave Quincy and guitarist Terry Smith joined ex-Osibisa multi-instrumentalist Loughty Amao and founded Zzebra. This re-issue compiles the two first albums of the band (another one has seen a separate release some 25 years after, recorded as Lost World), each on a separate CD rounded up with bonus tracks from the archives of the band's bass player, John McCoy (who would continue to greater fame as a member of Gillan).

Zzebra's albums might be a bit difficult to enjoy in their entirety, as the band's amalgamation of styles requires most listeners to compromise and settle for less of what they favor. What adds to this is the fact that Zzebra rarely goes all the way in the territories it explores.

The debut 1975 album opens with "Cobra Woman," a song with a bluesy feel not unlike Santana’s or even Peter Green’s. Similarly to some of the other, more commercially appealing songs (another one is "Rainbow Train," which has a spike of Steely Dan interweaved into its groovy rhythms and organ lines) this song misses an emotional grip due to a less than great vocal work, and therefore pales in comparison with If's best moments (those were not only more daring in the jazz playing they offered, but also more compelling to the heart).

"Mr J" is written by Amao, and highlights a more repetitive scheme based on African rhythms decorated by guitar and sax, while "Ife" offers mellower African folk. Later, "Hungry Horse" builds on the tribal drumming with jazzy arrangements, and fiery guitar and saxophone solos akin to a jazzy version of Santana. Both "Hungry Horse" and the aforementioned "Rainbow Train" sound like a live recording, and their audio fidelity is somewhat lower than on the rest of the album, with the performance being less strict (less tamed, yet with some audible mistakes).

"Mah Yong" and "Spanish Fly" are arguably the best cuts here — pointy, high-octane jazz / rock tunes reminiscent of Return to Forever's purely electric period.

The second 1976 album (with a different lineup that also includes a replacement for Smith), Panic, starts with the title track: a song that equally mixes all of the Zzebra ingredients (jazz, rock and African rhythms) to a relative success — It falls flat when it comes to the vocals. And that is exactly why the instrumental track that follows — a gentle rendition of "You've Lost that Lovin' Feeling" — is more satisfying.

Then it's that jazzy Santana all over again with "Karrola," which can be a bit irritating with some of its swift tribal, vocal sounds. "Liamo," with its exotic flavors, brings to mind Return to Forever once again (only this time in its earlier incarnation), but lacks the same finesse (the live version of the track, also included here, is actually quite pleasing with its raw energy).

"Death by Drowning" and "Tree" (with its long keyboard improvisation and exceptionally functioning vocals) mark an overall improvement and refinement of the jazzier influence (of the aforementioned Return to Forever), before the album continues in rockier lines with the funky "Put a Light on Me" — a hybrid of Blood Sweat & Tears with the David Coverdale-fronted Deep Purple, which is also featured here in an alternate version with Jeff Beck on guitar; and "La Si Si-La So So" which includes blazing guitar and sax solos. (7/10)

At first glance, the band sounds a little derivative, but keep listening. Hidden between the moments that sound familiar are little musical treasures. A harmonic guitar riff, a drum fill, a break that comes out of nowhere, a dramatic guitar solo. It's all in there, everything you'd want to hear from death metal, but with that little extra.

The production is smooth, but in certain regards, a little too digital sounding. The bass drums are especially clickety clack from underneath the roomy snare drum. And the cymbals are a bit too distant and washy. The guitar sound, on the other hand, is warm, meaty and squealy when it needs to be. Much like the subject matter of the songs.

The people that are especially turned off by goofy death metal should try and ignore all the track titles and simply focus on the music. It's worth every penny. For every other death metal fan, Nullo should be an instant buy. (8/10)

We’re more likely to say "an experience? Probably."

Miserere Luminis is a somber, mature, even gentle album that builds an even-keeled atmosphere through its forays into post-black metal territory. All the instruments breathe easily, from the heavy piano, organic drums, naturally reverberating distorted guitars, and culminating in the massive droning sounds that kick off the last track. The music goes off in many directions, the writing is nothing like traditional song arrangements, but it’s cohesive from beginning to end, so the feeling of being lost in sonic wilderness of this album is more of a pleasant exploration rather than frustration of not knowing where one is and where one should go. Miserere Luminis isn’t one of the best albums ever, but it comes respectably close. (8/10)

Not much to report here. Tenebrae in Perpetuum's third album is black metal, obviously, and not much more than that. It's made of plenty of parts, practically none of them memorable. It has a decent sound, which simply means you won't notice it. The blastbeats are reasonably well done, the screams are in Italian and occasionally you'll hear some clean, sermon-like vocals.

Beyond that, there's not much you haven't heard before, and not a whole lot of things you would like to hear again. It's dark and well played, but if there weren't at least a few thousand similar bands around maybe we'd be able to report more. (5/10)

Junius’ The Martyrdom of a Catastrophist pays homage to Immanuel Velikovsky, a Russian-born American scientist of Jewish descent; a free thinker, a philosopher and a catastrophist, who had been in the centre of a great scientific controversy in regard to his revolutionary ideas about Earth's history, chronology, and acceptable theories regarding ancient near-East civilizations.

Velikovsky theorized why the great flood had occurred in biblical Noah's time; tried to settle down the dichotomy and animosity between the biblical plot and the opposing hard, scientific proof about Earth's existence, its creation and its much debated chronological time (5500 years or so according to Judaism versus 4.5 billion years according to science).

He had theorized many important events that had shaped planet Earth were caused by catastrophes usually involving celestial bodies such as the planets neighboring Earth. He claimed catastrophes are Earth's shaping force and had occurred and will continue occurring, even though humankind is too scared to acknowledge that alleged fact of his. Hence Velikovsky was dubbed "The Catastrophist." He was ridiculed by the entire scientific community and was left alone, almost ostracized... hence his martyrdom.

Junius resembles, in more than one way, the superb Italian band Klimt 1918 in that it is extremely emotional and owns a warm sound one can easily relate to and embrace. Junius also uses clean sounding guitars almost without any distortion — except for the shoegaze parts, where the distortion generates a fuzzy and hot wall of sound (a technique Klimt 1918 uses as well). Both groups have excellent vocalists with strong and spacious voices and bigger-than-life presences.

Most of Junius’ recording is flaked with Velikovsky's own voice citing one or several of his ideas, in his warm, semi-cracked, immigrant's English. His voice is old and authoritative, but at the same time also parental and soothing, as is Junius' music. The Martyrdom of a Catastrophist is a rock n' roll album dreams are made of. (9.5/10)

Overmars' Born Again album is another worthwhile offering by these French progressive sludge metallers that pushes the envelope of the genre into new grounds of despair and reflection.

A single, almost 40 minutes track of horror-sludge played slowly and agonizingly, spewing guts, honesty, heaviness and wrist-slicing pain from beginning to end.

Featuring a phenomenal female singer for the bulk of the track’s duration, Born Again is a religious confessional chamber epic that takes the listener into bottomless pits of the post-modern man's pain of existence and beyond. Uniquely structured, melodic in the most un-melodic way possible, Born Again utilizes the human voice to the maximum and engages both male and female vitriolic throats as the main instruments of this hellish, yet purging journey through a world of shit.

This recording comes as highly recommended for Neurosis-with-a-twist fans. (8/10)

An amateurish effort at composing and playing "avant-garde" black metal sees the sole member of Gnaw Their Tongues in his best shot at a unique and original form of music. Chaotic and too sterile and synthetic for its own good, Migdal Babel (tower of Babylon in Hebrew) offers some bright moments amidst its fuzz and fuss, through which some interesting melodies emerge, but in the end, both the ridiculous sounding drum machine and the overall helter-skelter lends us the impression the artist behind De Magia Veterum is either clueless in regards to black metal or poor at handling his instruments. (5.9/10)

The unveiling of Consortium's 1975 recording, Rebirth, introduced us to a band that even back in the day sounded a bit outdated (see the review in issue #43), and so the odds were against this almost entirely fresh recording by the semi-hard rock band, attempted thirty four years later.

And indeed, we are not overly impressed. We'll spare the technical details about how the band managed to play previously unreleased material from the ‘70s with its late drummer John Parker (two of these three revived tracks, "Where" and "Evolution," are the best cuts on the album), and just mention that the band has more or less maintained its ‘70s character and sound, while treading on banal rhythms, basic chords maneuvers and generic rock solos.

On some of the tracks, most notably "Lady Doctor" and "Sad Girl," Consortium sounds like a poor man's UFO (on the former) or Grand Funk Railroad (on the latter), but every now and then there's a melodic phrase that has its grip (the guitar leads on the aforementioned "Where" and "Evolution," for example).

A rather robust re-recording of the band's 1969 sweet hit "All the Love in the World" is worth mentioning as an anecdote, but at a different polarity there's the pretence of evil found on the title track (two versions of which are included here: an edited version and a full, ten and a half minute version which includes a lengthy, jammy instrumental section), sounding anachronistic even when compared to Black Widow's. Luckily, the sinister side is almost entirely avoided elsewhere. (5.25/10)

Dusted Angel plays a sort of dirty, low-fi, stoner-meets-sludge kind of musical amalgam. The recording sounds pretty underground and in the DIY tradition of such, even though Dusted Angel is signed to Corruption Recordings, yet another of those countless Myspace labels populating cyberspace.

Dusted Angel plays a sort of back-to-roots, down-to-Earth, redneck Southern sludge: slow, chunky and with a healthy dose of stoner infiltrating the core of the music. Even for rabid fans of the aforementioned musical styles, this reviewer sees no special reason why anyone should pick this 7" vinyl up. (5/10)

Why Jazz for the Deaf? Most likely because even the hearing impaired will be able to enjoy this offering, which is completely jazzy in terms of its energies. This new release is less jazz oriented compared to the previous Morglbl recording (2007's magnificent Grotesk), and more hard rock / metal oriented.

Morglbl is one of the most interesting power-fusion outfits active today. Christophe Godin is probably the world's most criminally unknown shredder: His playing is swift and yet filled with tones and colors. Bassist Ivan Rougny is less dominant than he was on Grotesk, but nevertheless provides some robust bass, and "Hell's Balls" finds him showing off a bit more with a Primus-like funk attitude. The fresh recruit, Aurelien Ouzoulias, teams up nicely, fueling the trio's tight metal rhythms; his presence is heavier yet lacks some of the uniquely colored chops his predecessor (Jean Pierre Frelezeau) once demonstrated.

The twelve instrumental tracks found here are a showcase of the unit as first class tunesmiths. Most of the tracks are high octane numbers, guaranteed to rock your body and take over your brain with their immediate riffs. "22 Oz," for instance, sounds like a ferocious, guitar-driven version of Focus' "Hocus Pocus." There are also fine mellow moments to be found, often juxtaposed with adrenalized sections (on "Stoner de Brest" and "Untold Stories," for example) they provide some delicacy between the attacks.

Morglbl keeps the listener alert throughout the album, with fresh, often unexpected maneuvers. Even the closing "My Little Man" has something new to offer to the mix, with the introduction of some acoustic guitar playing. (8/10)

DYSE is a German noise rock band with a tendency for the bizarre and the awkward, but not as awkward as its members might intend.

This is by no means another Carnival in Coal or anything, although the spirit of that crazed French band echoes from time to time across the recording. In the end, however, DYSE plays straight-forward rock 'n roll charged with youthful angst, enthusiasm and energy. This fact alone renders the recording a worthwhile purchase for fans of good old (metallic) rock gone a little berserk. (6.9/10)

Passages is a psychedelic, spaced-out instrumental wonder that echoes Pink Floyd, Tangerine Dream, Earth's The Bees Made Honey in the Lion’s Skull, post-rock and southern rock. This impossible hybrid has been engineered by the unheralded Maserati group, who takes heavy music into the next level and makes it highly enjoyable, almost danceable and dream-like. Passages keeps a perfect balance between pure electronic music and classic rock 'n roll and makes it fun... pure fun.

Passages is heavy on electronics, but those of the older schools of electronics like the early works of Vangelis and the aforementioned Tangerine Dream (Ricochet, 1975, would be a good reference); but it also incorporates the classic rock instrumentation in the early Pink Floydian manner or the hazy and transcendental approach Earth takes on its phenomenal The Bees Made Honey in the Lion's Skull kind of thing.

All in all, Passages is a welcome detour from the mainstream rock and metal of today, a dive into lesser known waters of experimentation, moods and atmospheres. The music even dares to flirt with the substance of human dreams, and tries to fuse with these metaphysical forces in a way. (7.5/10)

White Rhino is extremely fervent and harsh doom-oriented sludge metal the way it should be: raucous, raunchy, and brutal. Mendozza leaves all finesse behind and focuses on extremity; from the heavy-as-fuck riffs to the wild and unforgiving vocals, this basic, no-frills approach to sludge is awe-inspiring and exactly what anyone into this hostile genre should be wanting and absorbing. Mendozza's power is unparallel to any other band out there, its sound is massive, and the execution of the band's sonic punishment is nothing short of top-notch. Behold and take heed for the new force in dirty, grimy, despairing metal of today! (8/10)

Requiem Fortissimo is apparently the third and final part of some trilogy by the band Virgin Black, of which this reviewer is not up to speed with. In fact, Requiem Fortissimo is also the maiden voyage for this reviewer amidst the sounds of this highly acclaimed Australian band.

Virgin Black plays doom metal; some would argue its backbone is doom / death, other will insist its style leans more towards funeral doom, but what makes Virgin Black unique is not the band's main driving metal style but rather the complementary sonic additives that are in abundance throughout the recording: the operatic female vocal approach, the baroque aural ornamentation of the main musical theme, the interludes and preludes, the breaks, and the flirtation with classical music time and again.

Not only does the above mentioned enhance the music with a vital and vibrant additive that keeps the otherwise stale romantic doom metal from going sour and boring, but these maneuvers also transcend the music from being just really, really slow metal, into the realms of it becoming a dark, mysterious and highly spiritual experience. In that sense, Requiem Fortissimo has succeeded where so many other albums failed, so kudos for that. (8.5/10)

So much beauty is enveloped within the walls of The Flax of Reverie, yet so much malevolence and horror is coupled with that very same beauty. The blossoming flower of the main theme is time and again being rotted, blackened and overshadowed by vile and unhealthy tunes that keep the listener on the edge from beginning to end.

Mothlite is a highly eclectic entity that incorporates not only many musical spectrums and sceneries, but also a handful of instruments, some more rock-oriented, and some purely classical ones (piano, cello). The music is mostly of the cinematic type, in a sense that if one would spread one's life and stretch it from beginning to end and regard this very life as a movie, then Mothlike's music could easily fit as the soundtrack; at times too sad, at times a tad optimistic, at others tragic and horrific.

Indeed, The Flax of Reverie is a soundtrack of a life, mirroring life's highs and many lows, its glimmers of hope and its countless tragedies.

The album's style is hard to pigeonhole, as it draws many influences, from Zeuhl music (think of the French oddity Shub Niggurath, for instance), to Pink Floyd's darkest hours, to chamber music. Mothlike's sounds are unique, organic and heartfelt, but mostly, they are beautiful, as simple as that, because life is fucking beautiful, is it not? (8.9/10)

Liturgy shouldn't perform live. That would be utter waste of time. Liturgy must remain a studio-only recording band. The band should also release only properly recorded albums produced in state-of-the-art manners. This band must be listened to exclusively on high-quality, hi-fi stereo systems with the best earphones one can possibly get. No sound must escape, no minuscule gesture ignored lest it all comes crushing down like a house of cards in the form of utter white noise.

Think of Wolves in the Throne Room's debut album. Think of those endless tremolo guitars playing microscopic, lightning fast notes, up and down, down and up. Think how melancholic and sad they sounded. Think of the blasting drums, the endless roar of a million small thunders in the background, or in front. Take all the above mentioned and multiple it by 10. No, let's multiple it by 25.

Liturgy's music must be consumed as a whole. It would be pointless to divide tracks or refer to a specific one. All proper songs here sound very similar to one another anyway. Or do they?

Liturgy plays black metal for people with the utmost attention span — people who could actually sit and listen to the endless tiny and wonderful sonic bits that construct the music and absorb them all, at once.

Renihilation is like a long string of bits — a tiny, colorful multitude of bits. They are beautiful in unison, in masses. However, if you pull one bit off the string, the whole thing disintegrates into randomly scattered thousands of bits on the floor. Such is Liturgy's music — pay attention to it, to every note, every minute detail, and you will be rewarded by one of the most beautiful recordings in metal's history. Dare to blink, to lose concentration, to let a note flee and disappear, and you will find yourself in the middle of a musical desert, walls of utter cacophony surrounding you, hammers of senseless noise coming hard on your senses.

Liturgy is the most untypical black metal band out there and this album is the most untypical black metal album in its rather orthodox way of being a black metal recording. Four nice looking, skinny young New Yorkers who look more like your typical grunge or alternative rock band (often depicted on MTV) have recorded the fastest, most unrelenting and orderly chaotic album of recent years.

Ulver's Nattens Madrigal as well as the aforementioned Wolves in the Throne Room do come into mind as reference for Liturgy's Renihilation, but the latter is like an upgraded fusion of the two: faster and more unrelenting than Nattens Madrigal, but also more melodic and enchanting than Diadem of 12 Stars. What both Ulver and WITTR lack, however, is the organized chaos feeling Renihilation offers. A feeling of being on the fastest ghost train out there on a course through many wonders moving away so fast you should be extra watchful not to lose any passing attraction.

Initially listening to Renihilation in the car stereo while doing errands, this reviewer dismissed this album and mentally tagged it as garbage. Now this very reviewer is in love. (9/10)

Discouraged Ones marked a turning point in Katatonia's career since Jonas Renske tore up his voice after the recording of Brave Murder Day. With this change, the band made a drastic change in sound from raw, brooding doom with black metal influences to a more streamlined, depressive rock sound. The music was still distinctly bleak, but toned down in ambition.

Luckily, Renske is also graced with a wonderful singing voice, so adjusting to the new sound was easy for those willing to accept it. No song on the record is of epic length, like ones from Dance of December Souls, and all of them are characterized by simple, swirling guitar melodies and crystalline vocals of melancholy and despair.

Although nowhere near as soul-crushing as something like funeral doom, this is still intensely emotional music that should be listened to with discretion. However, one can really admire the blunt power and honesty of this album, which is almost unmatched. Although the lyrical output can come across as clumsy and underdeveloped, it also has an authenticity and dark charm. The frankness of songs like "Gone" and "Distrust" are something to marvel at.

"Deadhouse" is the stand-out track from the album. Consisting of a hypnotic, propulsive rhythm and Renske’s detached wail, this embodies the new Katatonia sound. An interesting note is that they utilized sound clips of real dolphins for the otherworldly break, which will surprise those who thought it was just a random sound effect. "Relention" is another highlight with a similar driving rhythm.

The individual performances of the musicians are pretty rudimentary, but shoegaze / sad rock like this doesn’t set out to impress with flashiness. Such moody poets aren’t conducive to being virtuosic. The great thing about the record, though, is how in sync each musician is.

Everything sounds so well put together, but not in a schmaltzy pop kind of way. However, there are definitely some moments that are a little more daring. The instrumental track, titled "Instrumental," shows a more improvisational, liberal side of the band.

After this, Katatonia would start refining their songcraft even further, even writing a concept album about the mafia (Viva Emptiness). Still, none of it matches the visceral impact and beauty of Discouraged Ones. Check out the 2007 re-release as well, which includes two great bonus tracks.