Gravsahl - When Everything Fades [DEMO] (2011)

When Everything Fades is the second demo available solely from Germany's Gravsahl, who last year issued an impressive split recording with Kreetur which I also reviewed. The bulk of the Gravsahl material from that release ("Of Apathy", "Of Sociopathy", "Of Depression") is incorporated here, for a total of nine tracks and nearly 44 minutes of content, making it more like a full-length than a sampling to anyone who has yet to experience this disturbing single man dream state. As one might expect, this is what we might dub a 'bedroom' black metal project. Gravsahl is partial to raw and ruddy production values, heavily processed guitars, programmed drums, walls of active ambient melodies and vocals that sound like an orthodox black metal icon being strung through a spatial wormhole of drab colors.

The idea here is obviously to stir other emotions than merely the primal occultism of the parent genre, but to cast a lucid, muted pallor of depression and beauty atop the grislier aesthetics. To this extent, the remainder of When Everything Fades (beyond the tracks I'd previously heard) is a clear success. Most of the tracks develop in the same direction, outside of the swelling pure ambient intro "A Desperate Move" or the outro "A Last Lament". Subtle atmospheres develop through passionate streams of ringing distortion, ebbing synthesizer and scratching rasps. There are constantly 2-3 things happening in the compositions, so you'll never feel the ennui that such exhibitions can often create, and Gravsahl shifts into multiple tempos through "Just One Step", "Shattered Existence", and "Burning My Last Bridge" which are simply delicious. I kept feeling the impression that this was '4ad' black metal, reminding me of groups like Cocteau Twins or (early) Lush if you replaced the female, ethereal vocals with snarling and channeled the guitars into a dire lock step.

Like the band's 2009 demo A Part of Nothing, this is enjoyable; ultimately superior. Simply cast all bright illusions of pleasantry aside and let yourself sink into its primitive textures and tones. It fits fluidly with the split material, as if the two halves were ever intended to conjoin into this one body. The material is free to download from the Gravsahl MySpace much like the prior output, and it might be about time that labels gave the project a listen. There is obviously still some development possible here: a few of the tunes sound samey and I'd like to hear a wider variety of synth pads, perhaps a dip into the unexpected from time to time, but this is never the less an effective fit of melancholy hovering over a gloomy, obscured landscape. Recommended to fans of ColdWorld, Lifelover, Burzum and so forth.

Verdict: Win [7.5/10]

http://www.myspace.com/gravsahl

Autopsy - Severed Survival (1989)

It is here that I admit to a bit of cheating, as I've decided to include Autopsy as a part of a project to once again experience the history of Florida death metal through album reviews. Autopsy is not really a Florida band, but there's a clear connection to that scene: vocalist and drummer Chris Reifert was once a member of the infamous Death, performing on the Scream Bloody Gore album and a few of the rehearsals and demos prior. Since I've long found the Autopsy style to be a curious deviation from the structured compositions of Chuck Schuldiner, I can't think of a better time to dive into their recordings, of which Severed Survival was the first full-length and first released through Peaceville.

Obviously, there are a lot of parallels to Scream Bloody Gore, but Autopsy's approach creates a crude aural motif that incorporates rawer guitar tone and thick, plucking Steve DiGiorgio bass lines that offer some distinction. Reifert's growls are comparable to Schuldiner, but more bloody minded and throaty (though not as excessive as John Tardy). I truly love the guitar sound on this debut, fresh and incredibly barbaric as it is, and the drums are organic and virile. From a songwriting standpoint, there is not a huge gulf of difference, as Severed Survival pursues the same, simple floe of notation that is present on much of Leprosy. Slower, haunting passages are interlaced with a simpler lattice of speed bursting, the leads are frenzied rather than melodic, and things are kept largely simplistic, its brutality borne only by the savage throat and unrelenting, unapologetic attitude. That said, I don't find this album to be quite so effective as the first two Death records.

The reason really just comes down to the guitar lines. They're punishing and primitive, truly heavy from a 'fuck you' punkish perspective, but they're simply not as morbid or catchy. There is nary a brilliant surprise anywhere on this album, so it seems to rely more on its atmosphere, and the sludge-like, doom discourse which Reifert and Coralles would later explore through their following band Abscess. That said, Severed Survival is not deprived of a sanguine, ooze like consistency and several cases of grisly, memorable fare. I'm fond of "Service for a Vacant Coffin" with its mix of Repulsion-like grinding and chagrin grooves; "Gasping for Air" for its copious strings of bass and the superb breakdown and lead; "Critical Madness" for the cystic, doomed crushing of the intro and the enthusiastic acceleration therein; "Pagan Saviour" for the arching, obese composition and brutal, godless vocals; the CD bonus track "Stillborn" and its grinding gore stench, lead and breakdown.

In fact, I don't think there's even a single track on the album that isn't fun to experience, they just don't stain the conscience for a long duration. The lyrics are violent and visceral, pure gore akin to Cannibal Corpse, and I favor them over those of Death. I also prefer the production here, it's got a more dynamic appeal to it than the very level, brash resonance of Scream Bloody Gore. The solos never feel useless, and the organic quality of the mix provides a more accessible bridge towards rock, punk, sludge, and doom territories. DiGiorgio also fails to flagellate himself with excess self-indulgence: his performance is distinct, with a lot of solid chords in there, but he reins in and never does a disservice to the rest of the instruments. All told, I prefer the more vile and cavernous structure of the follow-up Mental Funeral, but this is an entertaining debut, and suitable unsafe to bring home to Ma and Pa.

Verdict: Win [8.25/10]

http://www.autopsydeathmetal.com/

Atheist - Piece of Time (1989)

It's no secret that death metal was largely a mutation of the thrash genre, but some bands held on more closely to the tenets of that precursor than others. This was as obvious in the Florida scene as anywhere else; bands like Atheist, Hellwitch and Morbid Angel clung heavily to the vicious speed and excitement of the Bay Area, but cranked those elements out to the nether reaches, simultaneously adapting the vocals into a more brutal and caustic resin. Piece of Time is without a doubt an impressive debut effort thanks largely to the monstrous rhythm section of Roger Patterson and Steve Flynn, far more intensely driven than what peers like Death or Obituary were churning forth; but I should also note that Kelly Shaefer's labyrinthine, psychotic vocals were something new as well, a less guttural application than Tardy or Schuldiner, but fully demented in their own right.

We were also experiencing one of the earliest inclusions of a heavy jazz influence to the metal milieu here, though it's not nearly so prominent as that found on the following albums. Within Piece of Time, it's manifest in the rhythm section swerves and shifts beneath the storm of hectic guitar patterns, but at the same time, it's also responsible for my biggest frustration with the album: that the band are producing such an oiled sequence of riffing overload that the tracks often feel like little more than manic waves collapsing into one another. Dissected, almost every guitar line on the album provides well plotted mayhem, but once affixed to one another they seem to go more for business than effectiveness. I also don't care much for the leads, they are wild and often uncouth transgressions which seem to benefit neither from catchy flickerings nor the wild excess that bands like Slayer and Pestilence put on the map. Piece of Time is a bewildering act of sharpened lunacy, and remains one of the best Atheist records, but it's not exactly perfect.

I do enjoy the synthesized intros to "Piece of Time" and especially "No Truth", the tracks which bookend the debut and are coincidentally among my favorites. The former is alleviated by the thick presence of Patterson's wandering bass-lines, soon joined by the frenetic and choppy, tech thrashing spasms and Shaefer's mad scientist ministrations. The latter is characterized with some wonderful melodic spikes (around 1:30) that hammer off against the punctual rhythms and the start/stop of its ghastly moshing violations. Otherwise, I really enjoy "Room With a View" for the balance of eerie, descending patterns and plunking bass explorations; "Beyond" for its flagrant force and bouncing vocal patterns that cede to screams; and "I Deny" with its swaying balance of confrontational, bludgeoning rhythms and mind teasing aesthetics. But even these have a few moments in which the tides seem to break against one another as if they were pieces being forcefully jabbed into the wrong place on the puzzle. Others like "On They Slay, "Life" and "Why Bother?" are equally head spinning, perhaps, but not so memorable.

If Piece of Time is most important for one thing, its the potential it showed for the death/thrash metal crossroads to explore new heights of frenzy, new spastic reaches of velocity. Surely we had a number of technical thrash bands like Coroner, Watchtower and Deathrow delivering masterful mergers of memorable songwriting and stunning proficiency, but Atheist set out to prove that these standards could be taken to the next extreme, the unfolding frontier that was death metal. It also largely eschews the horror/gore lyrics of other Florida death acts for a more serious examination of social and temporal constructs. I don't love all the songs here, and I don't love the production, which in my opinion lacks some depth that would have better delivered the considerable chains of notation, but its a punishing postcard from the asylum nonetheless.

Verdict: Win [8/10] (your soul is young)

http://www.atheistmusic.com/

Obituary - Slowly We Rot (1989)

If Scream Bloody Gore or Leprosy could represent the cackling crypt lord ruling over the animated corpse court of a sepulchral domain, then Obituary's Slowly We Rot would be the shambling caretaker and enforcer, with a cruder outlook but the same ghastly intent. Having spent a good 5 years on the underground/demo circuit under the name Xecutioner, they were originally writing filthy thrash in the vein of Hellhammer or Venom, and you can certainly hear those influences carried to the extreme here. But foremost, the difference would be in the vocals of John Tardy. They're not entirely unlike Chuck Schuldiner, but taken to a grisly extreme that, while taken for granted by most today in lieu of the basement gutturals and pig squealing so common for death metal, were quite frightening in their age. You simply hadn't heard a man vomit this much into a microphone, and while Death kept the vocals creepy but level with the onslaught of fantastic guitar riffing, Obituary is cool with letting Tardy own the mix.

There are some similarities in the guitars also, but Trevor Peres and Allen West were using a thicker, more processed distortion highly reminiscent of the Hellhammer tone, and a lot of the riffs are slower and more doomy than those on Leprosy. That said, the motif works to great effect here, because Tardy's presence over such slogs as "Slowly We Rot" or "Bloodsoaked" will instantly transport the listener into the pit of festering terror that permeates this album. This is ultimately a very well paced effort, with equal measures of carnal breakdowns and faster zombie riots that conjure a morbid hypnosis. Once the resonant sewage gutturals of the "Internal Bleeding" intro cede to the drum fill, and the crushing guitars arrive beneath Tardy's initial torn throat, the band breaks into this incredibly primitive groove while you attempt to acclimatize to the vocals you are hearing. How does a human being sound like this without having appendages trapped in a meatgrinder? Truly sickening and effective, and the perfect balance for the more lowly mixed instrumentation and the effortless, wild tearing of the guitar leads that penetrate the atmospheric din like needles stitching the flesh of patchwork abominations.

"Godless Beings" moves at a faster slice not unlike the material you were hearing on Brazilian Sepultura's Beneath the Remains (same year), but then busts into this wall of groove which Obituary would use about 300 times through the rest of their catalog. The slower bridge here provides a great foreshadowing to "Memories Remain", perhaps my favorite song from the band (appearing on Cause of Death). From here, we hit on a number of other classics like the titular "Slowly We Rot" with its forceful doom drudge and total punk rock out; "Bloodsoaked" with the escalating carnage of its central riff and washes of harrowing vocal gore that cut through the intro sequence; "Stinkupuss" which has an amazing, shrill lead sequence in between its flesh quaking grooves; or "Deadly Intentions" with its thick broil of pulverizing Hellhammer thrash rhythms. A few of the riffs here were uninspired even by 80s standards and the newly burgeoning genre, and I've never been all that taken with "Gates to Hell" or the lengthy "Intoxicated" outside of the Tardy vocals, but Slowly We Rot is nothing if not consistent through most of the 35 minutes.

Considering the fresh menace of its newly dubbed genre, and the rare ability to hold up after so many years, it's safe to say that the Obituary debut is a bona fide death metal classic. It's not a masterpiece at the level of Leprosy or Altars of Madness because the individual songs don't possess that same level of riffing. This is an issue that was clearly addressed with its followup Cause of Death, which is superior and the best thing the band have released to this day. Yet Slowly We Rot is still well worth repeated visits due to its visceral, unforgiving aesthetics. I can recall many conversations in high school and at thrash gigs about how disgusting and extreme this new Florida band Obituary was, and certainly the debut does not disappoint, with brutal vocals and adequately nihilistic lyrics. But this initial 'shock' value aside, it does suffer from some mild redundancy where its successor does not.

Verdict: Win [8.75/10] (rotting as one)

http://www.obituary.cc/

Death - Leprosy (1988)

Where Scream Bloody Gore provided us with a glimpse of corpse strewn genius, it was Chuck Schuldiner's sophomore monstrosity Leprosy that would hammer in the final coffin nails: death metal had truly arrived, and with it an almost entire musical landscape would either book passage on the funeral barge or sink into the Lethe. Sure, thrash had of brilliance yet to offer, and to an extent, many considered Leprosy itself to fall under that category in its day. But as time has proven, it is by far one of the most expressive, beatific statements of brutality and evil that I've ever experienced, and I enjoy it with the same solidarity today as I did over 20 years ago. In fact, I hold it upon the same lofty plateau of carnage as I place a Consuming Impulse, Realm of Chaos, Left Hand Path, or Altars of Madness: a mastery of the genre's fundamentals, with unanimously catchy songs to boot.

Yes, I said catchy. Many might forget that the inauguration of death metal was not simply a thing of blunt, indifferent brutality or charnel atmospheres, but actual song craft. Such a large ratio of the genre's rabid followers today came into the fold in the 90s or beyond that I fear many might have taken (or still take) an album like Leprosy for granted. For example, you won't hear excess storms of double bass, blasting or technical drumming here where they're not viable. This was well before the market had been cornered by Cryptopsy or Suffocation. Bill Andrews' beats offer nothing more than a concrete foundation for the wondrous, insanely well written riffs and the thick as thieves bass lines, rolling on his bass drums where applicable. And know what? Nothing more is needed for this album whatsoever, because the star side of beef in this slaughter house is without any doubt the guitar riffing and the caustic vocal torments of Schuldiner.

They do not make riffs like this anymore, not often at least. Such simple but instantaneously memorable fare that manages to encapsulate the menace and threat of a worldly change for the worse. In today's climate of brickwalled, ProTools brutality, death metal has transformed into an acrobatic light show in which the most gallantly executed tricks are fawned over by brooding masses that forget them once the following weeks upstaging has transpired. But how many are writing a riff that might actually scare the fuck out of you? I mean, no offense to Deeds of Flesh or Behemoth (I enjoy some material by both), but if you were alone in a morgue during a power outage, would you feel terrified if their music started to play in the background? Fuck no you wouldn't. It's brutal, indeed, but it doesn't possess that same skin crawling atmosphere, conjured directly through its notation. You don't feel that instant repulsion as if being covered in spiders, or that wondrous, jaw-dropping disbelief you might have felt when watching human entrails being exhumed from their corporeal hosts by the zombies in an 80s Romero flick.

I feel that sensation every time I listen through Leprosy, for nearly the entirety of its 39 minutes. Even at its most goofy and uplifting ("Forgotten Past"), I'd need to hold your hand in the theater when the lights go out. The slow, sure chords of the title track de-Christen the album, dire melodies cycling across Chuck's bass lines before that ineffably damning death howl erupts around :40. Jesus fuck, I feel like I'm staring at my own corpse while cold, dead spectral hands are forcing me backwards into the maw of the underworld. Yet, it's all still catchy, in particular where the guitars cut in before 2:00 and the searing velocity of the riff after that. Not many bands can stop/start you this often and hold your attention. This one could. "Born Dead" arrives with almost playful deviance, a gaggle of gremlins and fiends dancing on your hide as they stab it with poisoned barbs, fast and brutal guitars alternating into the escalation of pure chord force in the chorus, and then the clinical tapping sequence after 1:00 which is legendary.

"Forgotten Past", as hinted above, is even more playful with an almost happy-go-lucky muted punk veneer to its introductory riff. However, it soon collides into a graveyard wall, and the lower bridge/groove rhythm at 1:00 is a knockout. "Left to Die" begins with one of the creepiest riffs on the entire album, a surgical thrashing that feels like you're watching some unfortunate be pumped with formaldehyde while still drawing breath. Big, swaggering grooves cede towards another of those glorious, thick rhythms, and I dare you not to explode at the chorus, one of the most tangible and enduring statements of DEATH METAL to date. "Pull the Plug" follows, one of the most popular pieces from this sophomore, another smorgasboard of splatter and horror with at least 5 unforgettable riffs, and a chorus that has probably broken as many bones in mosh pits as anything else in all of thrash or death (excepting "Raining Blood", of course). Listen to that riff at 1:20. That is all I should have to say...

Yet Schuldiner, Andrews and Rick Rozz are not finished with us here, and they burst out the meaty, meandering causeway of "Open Casket", with another monolithic, almost doom metal breakdown bridging the verses. I particularly enjoy the wild nature of the lead in this one, shrill and cavernous and resonant across the pathological plague-scape of the album. "Primitive Ways" has a similar, escalating brightness about it that we were teased with in "Forgotten Past", but once again composed front to end with perfect, plausible guitar lines and Chuck's unforgettable, flesh stalking vocals. "Choke On It" festers with some of the same, slower breakdown segues that populate other songs here, but is marvelously concise and offers another of the album's most malevolent, genius riffs just before 1:30. All of these are seasoned in a lyrical sauce similar to the debut. Still heavy on simplistic imagery, but more consistently composed.

We are living in 'old as new' times, folks, with many younger artists turning back to the past for their inspiration. But I'll be damned if I wouldn't pay a band double for an album that made such flawless use of inspiring, simple rhythms; or one that could conjure such morbid malignancy without simply steering towards the cavernous, deep guttural terrain. The production here is perfect, raw but resonating through the listener's mind like an autopsy on the television set. You want to turn away, you want to squint but you're glued to the gore, fascinating by the fleshy flaws and organs that lie within all of us. Leprosy was one of the most repulsive yet alluring metal experiences I was honored to undertake in the 80s, alongside the over the top Slowly We Rot or Cause of Death, or the thrashing unto death transition of Pestilence. It's probably cool in some circles to rally against Chuck from beyond the grave, and my own feelings on Death are mixed once he transformed into a philosophical cosmonaut on the fourth album (half forgetting what got him there in the first place), but I am sure as a starving bear in a spring thaw that this is one of the best goddamn things I've ever heard in my middle-age nearing existence. Leprosy forever. May the limbs of all unworthy poseurs fester in putrid permanence.

Verdict: Epic Win [10/10] (flesh contorting day after day)

http://www.myspace.com/deathofficial

Sons of Seasons - Magnisphyricon (2011)

'Supergroup' styled bands don't always have a tendency to work out in the long run. Very often, some of the guest stars will simply dabble and then return to their primary institutions, leaving the lesser known members to replace them or simply hang the project out to dry. So I was a little surprised that Sons of Seasons, known for fusing the talents of Henning Basse, Oliver Palotai, and others not only held itself together for some European touring, but managed to upstage themselves with a superior follow-up to 2009's Gods of Vermin. Magnisphyricon (I haven't the foggiest idea) is ultimately just a good progressive metal effort, hoarding Basse's mighty range within the walls of restraint, and incorporating bold symphonic elements as well as harder, thrashing rhythms when it suits them.

From the description I had read in advance, I expected something truly bizarre here, but it plays out more like a mesh of Helloween, Rhapsody, and perhaps Labyrinth. Songs like "Soul Symmetry" and "Into the Void" are leveled with potent grooves that contrast the buzzing key pads or the more epic, symphonic sweeps ala The Dark Ride. They'll also use whispers, female backing vocals (Simone of Epica), and worldly music influence (the intro to "Nightbird's Gospel") to create a truly 'international' balance over the substantial duration of the sophomore, which is nearly 70 minutes long with 14 tracks. Occasionally, the lower end guitar chugs will feel pretty vacant in creativity, but they're used largely as an accent to the bass player, and the real focus is what's happening above them. There's a vibration here of fey-like dalliance which is manifest through the subtler, pretty keys, female vocals and so forth, but then you've got elements like the crushing verse rhythm in "Lilith" which leaves an almost Morgana LeFay level of bruising.

Basse reminds me a lot of Andi Deris with this one, he just uses that same, satin range of seductive elegance, and rarely transforms into the screaming banshee we remember from Metalium's finer hours. But I found his performance here the most impressive. The other musicians are quite talented, but for all the variation and obvious effort, I was not able to pluck out a good many distinctive riffs from the mesh, nor symphonic sequences outside of the more obvious like the bold intro "Magnisphyricon: Temperance". You've got the powerful, pristine studio sound here that you'd expect of such veterans or really any signed, modern band in the style, but there's a slightly pervasive cheese cast over the otherwise intelligent content. Despite the promotional claims to the contrary, I honestly found Magnisphyricon to be a more modern, traditional progressive/power album than the debut, but where it might have sacrificed some of the Gods of Vermin's unique characteristics, it slightly inches past in its overall quality.

Verdict: Win [7.75/10]

http://www.myspace.com/sonsofseasons

Vreid - V (2011)

By this time, Vreid have established just as prolific of a portfolio as their prior incarnation, the late Windir. Albums like I Krig have been entertaining affairs, but I have felt for years that the band has yet to truly manifest its magnum opus. Considering all of the hype I've seen thrown at this fifth record, V, I was expecting to be lifted out of my seat and channeled back to ancient times of splendor. To be sure, this is probably the catchiest and most competent piece the band have ever delivered, with a good degree of variation spliced throughout the nine tracks. Alas, it is nowhere near the level of quality that I've been reading, and a number of flaws, like the monotonous and easily forgettable rasped vocals, hold it back from its potential.

Seriously, they just feel too loud and incongruous against the riffing, some of which are brilliant, others pandering to a pretty mediocre melodic death aesthetic. "Arche" is a strong opener, with a psychedelic subtext woven against the bombastic drumming and the superb melodies evoked. In particular I love how the leads here are interspersed through the composition, creating a fluid contrast of majesty and solemnity. In general, the band continue to grab for dense, thrashing black metal riffs that hit you straight in the gut, a characteristic of their early albums, but these are not always cast in the most inspiring sequences. Cuts like "The Blood Eagle" and "Wolverine Bastards" are packed with good intentions and solid ideas, especially the groovy lead bridge in the latter, but they don't leave an enormous impression. "The Sound on the River" is a more subtle, folksy departure until the bursts of aggression, and "Fire on the Mountain" presents a dutiful pagan thrashing, but it wasn't until the more psychedelic, Pink Floyd-stylings of "Slave" which the cleaner vocals that really found myself getting involved, and even here I though the black snarling was just too loud and distant from the instruments in the mix.

V is certainly not a negative fixture within the band's history, and I would say it shows the most thought and preparation of anything they've released to date. The production is a little too clean, but it works well enough for the guitars and drums. If you've found yourself in rapture of the band's prior albums, then you will likely find this catchier and I dare say more accessible. Vreid are not above hurling in some folk, rock or death metal elements, and the power of the guitar tone is enough to crush your gall bladder like a titan squeezing a boulder in its palm. Despite the tragic fate of their alma mater, there is ample evidence that the musicians are still endowed with creative force, but there are still paths to be traveled, trails to be cleared before they will be numbered among the Norwegian elite.

Verdict: Win [7.75/10] (their nature is to seek)

http://www.vreid.no/

Kampfar - Mare (2011)

Whoever would have guessed that Kampfar were interested in women's studies? Such is the concept behind Mare, their 5th and most accessible full-length effort, but before you go gathering your pitchforks and torches in a panic, know that this is not some crass transformation into an Oprah Winfrey of pagan black metal. The Norsemen are still delving into the same mythology and folklore that has inspired their previous works, only honing in on a general, gender driven theme (witches, etc). It's a curious idea, one not wholly expected from a band of Vikings, and thankfully, due to the band's significant and welcome compositional skill, it works rather well. Perhaps not so well as their more vicious, early albums, but it will suffice.

As was the case with their previous album Heimgang, the band utilizes a thick guitar tone that creates an instant surge of power, not unlike later Immortal or their spin-off I. The riffs are steady, simply, and very often dwelling around the mid pace, while the drums thunder off and the melodies drift off into the tangible cold nightscape. The vocals cut straight down the middle, perfectly aligned with the meter and melodies, and thus a swelling of contrasts is created that reeks of majesty. That said, the band does seem to rely here on some often generic, or flat out dull patterns of notation (the bridge to "Mare", or the ponderous "Volvevers"), and thus certain tracks can become rather a slog to survive through. Others are simply too glorious to pass upon, like the hammering grace of "Blitzwitch" or the horn swilling "Bergtatt". There are also a few pensive piano or symphonic elements used to create atmospheric intros to the brooding "Huldreland", the melancholic "Trolldomspakt", or the crushing if predictable "Altergang".

I felt like there was just enough quality on Mare to enjoy it, but I won't claim that it's the equal of any of the previous outings. Certainly more subdued and tranquil, but never negligent of the 'wall of sound' effect the band have utilized in the past. I could do without a few of the tracks, especially the bonus "Bergtatt (in D Major)", a more uplifting, anthem alternative which painted an unintentional sonic portrait of drunken highlanders lumbering over the hills wearing lingerie, which I've yet to burn from my mind. I also felt the same comprehensive emptiness that drove me away from the latest Moonsorrow album. The songwriting structures are solid, but never all that inspiring, and it's almost as if the concept of the album itself outpaces the actual music. Ultimately, though, Mare is another good Kampfar album...just not up to the same standards of the back catalog.

Verdict: Win [7/10] (let the devil whore burn)

http://www.kampfar.com/

Nomad - Transmigration of Consciousness (2011)

Nomad are perhaps one of the more intellectual and conceptual of the Polish death metal stalwarts, but they've oddly enough received very little attention as of yet. You could very easily compare their sound to Lost Soul, Vader, Behemoth and others within their direct sphere, but not so much that they overlay any one of those bands' particular aesthetics entirely. With luck, their 5th album, Transmigration of Consciousness will build upon their audience, because while I cannot promise that it's completely brilliant, it does capture a fair deal of atmosphere through its mix of ambient and guitar intros and crushing, grooving death hymns.

Similar to Pestilence's Testimony of the Ancients, or Blind Guardian's Nightfall in Middle-Earth, this album alternates its intros, interludes and outros with the full-length tracks. This is not always a welcome practice, and gods know I've seen myriad complaints about the tactic when employed on other works. Well, those complaints would be justified here, since their lack of titles really offers no individual distinction. Some of these are actually quite fetching, like the steady muted clean guitars that inaugurate "Flames of Tomorrow", or the spacey guitar ambiance that heralds "Dazzling Black", and I feel like perhaps they should have just been incorporated straight into the songs. Alas, at the very least Nomad have given the listener the option to skip them and head straight for the meat of the matter...

That meat would be the nine 'actual' songs of the album, which are almost without exception splayed out in a series of deep grooves that fall somewhere between Gojira, Alchemist and Lost Soul in practice. These Poles are far more fond of atmospherics than technicality, so the core of each track like "Dazzling Black" and "Pearl Evil" exists in a simple and bludgeoning space, lorded over by ambient sounds and effects, and the grunting force of vocalist 'Bleyzabel Balberith' (it gets better, as other members have adopted the stage names of 'Hydrant Hydrousus', 'Nameless Immenus' and more lazily 'Domin Dominus'.) The result is an experience both potent and tribal, the lack of truly distinct riffs somewhat compensated through the sheer gravity of what you're hearing, and plenty of deep thrashing segments to which you can break out into a private pseudo-mosh.

There are some deviations of the formula, like the rasped vocals of "Raised Irony", or the more uplifting grooves of "Four Percent of Hate", but the crushing effect of the Transmigration is a constant broken only by the segues. This is certainly the most ambitious and interesting that I've heard from Nomad yet, though I feel like the general quality of the songs on their 2004 effort Demonic Verses (Blessed Are Those Who Kill Jesus) was a little higher. That said, if you're into the structured proficiency of Polish acts Decapitated, Hate, Behemoth and so forth, and don't mind hearing that style pounded into riffing primacy and then lavished with a resilient and darker atmosphere, you might want to experience this mildly unique ritual for yourself.

Verdict: Win [7/10]

http://www.nomad-band.com/

Ash Borer - Ash Borer (2011)

Ash Borer is another of those West Coast acts who have stirred some buzz in the underground through their use of raw, uncompromising aesthetics, not necessarily adopting the same 'Cascadian' vibe you'd hear emanating from the upper Northwest of the US, but certain to appeal to that same crowd who seek a heavy amount of atmosphere against the backdrop of traditional black metal in the vein of Darkthrone, Burzum and so forth. The band has only been around for a few years now, and the Ash Borer tape is their debut full length, consisting of but three tracks, two of which are exorbitant in their length. I'll give the band credit, they manage to pull off a 12 and 19 minute track without either becoming entirely monotonous or boring, but aside from the fibrous, ringing Sonic Youth-like component that they often layer into the primal drudging, I wasn't so impressed.

There are clearly positives here. I love the band's name, it's one of those memorable, primal affairs like a Bone Awl. I like the huge swaths of percussive emptiness, feedback resonating into inner spaces while traces of deep distortion trail the memory (i.e. the end of "In the Mist of Life, We Are In Death"). However, I don't really care for the actual black metal segments, which drive along with vapid familiarity and rarely if ever involve any sort of surprise or escalation outside of the few chord shifts and snarling, resounding vocals. The blasting here, while used to create a mesmeric effect only, becomes duly monotonous. A good example of this is in the massive finale "My Curse Was Raised in the Darkness Against a Doomsday Silence", where the ambient intro, interlude and outro provide not only a stark contrast to about 10 or more minutes of ferocious, uninspired blast work, but feel superior to everything except the nice guitar sequence at around 7:30 in the song. Interestingly enough, I found the shorter, middle track "Rest, You Are the Lightning" to be the most rambling, despite the half decent miasma of bridge drums and guitars.

Fans of bands like Krallice, Altar of Plagues and Castevet will undoubtedly chew this up, though Ash Borer offers a much more raw, unwholesome ravaging. The songs are structured, but I have the impression these blokes could turn on their amplifiers and 'wing it' for many hours of bleak, distorted scripture. There is little complexity involved, just a viral, looping repetition that takes its time to cycle through each chapter. The guitars are good and loud here, placed at the fore of the tinny percussive storm and spacious yowling, but I feel like the note selection could certainly be more interesting than it is, and in particular I'd like to hear them indulge more in the post-punk fabric that they hint at, rather than the blander black metal riffs that seem to only anchor the outfit's potential to drift into a more appropriate oblivion. But this is not bad for what it is.

Verdict: Indifference [6/10]

http://www.myspace.com/ashborer