Ruins - Place of No Pity (2013)

Hellhammer and Celtic Frost have undoubtedly influenced several generations of extreme metal artists, in terms of their oppressive, heavy riffing and morbid lyrical concepts; but one component you more rarely hear emulated is the vocal style of Tom G. Warrior. Sure, Monotheist and Triptykon form the natural extension of that, but as one who isn't partial so much to that last act's songwriting and riff construction, I'm glad to find other venues. The foremost would be Nocturno Culto of Darkthrone who puts his own spin on the style (especially in the collaboration outfit Sarke), but there's another down under who have been kicking out such leering jams for about eight years, and that is Australia's Ruins, project of Alex Pope and Psycroptic skin punisher David Haley. Place of No Pity is the duo's fourth full-length effort, and one of their best to date.

Think if Warrior's throaty, tortured and crumbling vocals were placed in a Scandinavian black metal milieu circa the mid 90s and you'll draw a pretty good sonic picture of this album. The chord textures are just as often harmonic as they are dissonant, and there's a good deal of variation between tracks which helps pad out the potentially oppressive 60 minute duration. The riffing isn't the most complex available to the black metal fan, and a lot of the groovier songs (like the 9 1/2 minute title track) definitely summon up comparisons to acts like Khold, or the last few Satyricon records, but by no means is Ruins limiting itself to just these sorts of tempos. You'll find Haley unleashed on plenty of blast beats throughout, and the burlier tracks feature enough contrast between slower and faster material that one won't quickly become exhausted by the ceaseless repetition which has plagued a lot of black metal records these past 20 years. The leads fulfill a number of good melodies, and the band's pretty flexible between the more open, atmospheric chord-driven progressions to some tightened, thrash-based riffing; Dave's brother Joe is playing alongside Pope here, and the two are definitely a solid pairing capable of texture and dynamic range.

Place of No Pity is hardly some paragon of lo fidelity grimness, preferring instead to work with a brazen, professional sounding production that allows the chords to shine and the depth of each instrument to stand against the others. For instance, the bass here, while not intensely deviant from the rhythm guitar patterns, has a pretty distinct presence beneath the brighter, thinner tone of the chords. The drums are intensely level and never smothered by the riffing, and the vocals perfectly placed so that they only vaguely dominate the mix. This is not an album sounding as if it were recorded on a 4-track behind a dilapidated garage, so there's always a chance it might turn off some of the purists seeking that sort of sound; but anyone into the higher budget Norse, Swedish or Finnish black metal of the past 15 years will probably dig that the band qualifies such sleek recording standards. Ruins is hardly composing the most immortal riffs out there, but this is nearly in league with 2009's Front the Final Foes, a fine album itself, and I personally enjoy how they confirm speculations of what a Frost-like sound can evolve into, without the excessively raspy or hoarse guttural vocals you generally expect in extreme metal. A good band deserving more attention than they've yet received.

Verdict: Win [7.75/10]

http://www.facebook.com/ruins666

Logic of Denial - Atonement (2013)

First impressions of this album were that an unannounced, anomalous tornado had just manifest about 10 yards from my apartment complex and then proceeded to ravage my family and belongings. Second impressions were a bit difficult to ascertain, as I was still hospitalized from the first impressions. To dub Italians Logic of Denial as an 'intense' death metal act would be an understatement. Despite their relative youth in the field (forming around 2006 in this incarnation), they've got all the chops and technical ability to run alongside such celebrated acts as Nile, Behemoth, Krisiun, Immolation and Morbid Angel, each of which you are likely to notice within the architecture of Atonement, a sophomore that will be spinning heads, if not necessarily emptying out the wallets of those hands attached to those bodies who own the heads. Trust me, though: if you admire unflinching excess, hyper-realized pacing, pinpoint accuracy and dizzying acrobatics in your death metal, WITHOUT the expectant fits of arbitrary noodling, Logic of Denial is dialing your digits.

It would be impossible for one of my long history with death metal to not appreciate at least some of what's transpiring on this sophomore. To define the drums as inhuman would be a moot point, as percussionists of Daniel Costa's nature are practically born with additional feet and hands that they keep hidden from the world, but I still find it hard to believe an individual can possess such stamina. The guitars unleash a bevy of staccato rhythms, denser chords, frolicking tremolo riffs and breakdowns that move a mile a minute. I can just imagine a crowd trying to effectively mosh to these rhythms at a gig, and the band stopping mid-set to exclaim 'Sorry, you're just not keeping up!' at the audience. There were times throughout the track list where the bass did get lost, but if you pay close enough attention you'll note that this guy is just as busy plugging away at his instrument as anyone else in the band, and when he hits the higher strings the notes stand out a bit more from the vortex of guitar progressions. I should also mention that Atonement isn't just whipping along at higher velocities without exception; there are various tunes throughout the 11 here (like "Catharsis Through Ungodly Annihilation" and "Despondency") that tackle some steadier, mid-paced battering ram riffs which develop a decent contrast to the lightning fare.

Vocally, the guy's got a growl which isn't too guttural, more along the lines of what you'd find in the Polish or Brazilian scenes. A lot of the stylistic choices, tempos and actual riff constructions bring me back to records like Annihilation of the Wicked, Conquerors of Armageddon and Domination, but the sheer speed and atmosphere created through its propulsion definitely scratches that brutal, blackened death aesthetic present in bands like Behemoth or Hate. Logic of Denial are not without a refined sense of melody (like the leads in "Despondency"), but I will say that Atonement could have used more of this, and even a few additional breakdowns or atmospheric segues to counteract their forceful eruptions of strength. They throttle about 1000 note progressions in your direction, but only about a quarter of them really stick. Nor are they really bringing anything new to your table. But those quips aside, this is a fairly high end effort, impeccably crafted to utterly destroy anything in its path, and if you're in the mood for unbridled speed and retribution, this will indeed fill that void, placing Logic of Denial on that same radar that brought international notice to their countrymen Hour of Penance and Fleshgod Apocalypse. Just be warned: call the paramedics in advance and make sure they have a stretcher available. And be sure to insure your property against environmental damages! Flood, fire, severe winds, this one's got them all.

Verdict: Win [7.75/10]

http://www.facebook.com/LogicOfDenialBand

Expurgate - Dementia Tremens (2013)

The 'Mile-High City' might be the last place one might expect to find such a gurgling, lowdown pile of intestines as Expurgate's full-length debut Dementia Tremens, and yet here they are, taking a dump all over the snowy peaks and flats of their territory with an album of misogynistic, meat headed slam breakdowns and flights of faster, old school brutality. Let's get one fact out of the way first: there is not a single individualistic or unique characteristic to this album which the avid death metal listener won't have heard hundreds of times over the past decade. Between the thuggish palm muted moshing components and eruptions of tremolo picked guitars, everything does seem as if its been paraphrased from the band's influences, from Suffocation to Lividity to Devourment, but despite this shortcoming the Coloradans have put together a taut and compact 23 debut which purists for this form won't find much to scoff at, even if it isn't exactly pushing the envelope off the nearest cliff.

These are not songs concerned with leaving a lasting impact on your memory so much as an immediate impact on your chin, tummy, scrotum, or wherever you like to take your blows. The guitars follow a very percussive pattern which essentially doubles up the drums for a one two bludgeoning combination, and the low end tendency of the notation will churn your stomach even after a spoonful of Pepto Bismol. There is nothing exceptional dirty or raw about the production, this is by the numbers, modern sounding stuff with a lot of punch to it, but clear enough so when the group breaks out its accelerated picking sequences you can make out every note. Pinched squeals all over the place, par for the course. In particular I rather enjoyed the bass tone, which is pluggy and potent enough to lend some added 'bounce' to some of the neanderthal rhythms, but overall the instruments are all mixed straight on the level and I never felt as if anything was drowning anything else in a swamp of entrails. Which is good and bad, since there's no real atmosphere of note other than the driving, pummeling mechanics of the members' limbs, but pretty standard for this niche. The vocals are club-like, blunt gutturals with an effective, toilet-flush sustain on them that will not surprise anyone, but function well enough within this particular fleshy plumbing.

Some of the lyrical placement over the chugging is hilarious here, in particular through "Repugnant Torso Defilement" and "40 oz. Facefuck". Songs that you would NOT want to share with your grandmother or girlfriend (okay, maybe if you've got a particularly masochistic counterpart); but I broke out laughing and I'm sure it was not unintentional on the band's part. I also laud that Expurgate vary up the content enough through the rather short album that it never grows dull or exhausting; I've encountered a number of these slam-oriented bands who focus all too much on the one set of slower, chugging gaits, and the Coloradans at least seem open to incorporating some of their more intense and busied influences to provide a decent range of tempos that really let you 'feel out' the breakdowns. Ultimately, it's a solid debut that will sate many fans who comb the rosters of labels like Sevared, Amputated Vein and Comatose (the last of which is releasing this), and worth a listen if you enjoy decently structured and produced death of this variety ala Kraanium, Ingested or Abominable Putridity. On the other hand, I didn't find the riff progressions timeless, distinctive or catchy enough that I'd revisit it very often.

Verdict: Indifference [6.5/10]

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Expurgate/160916813952730

Lightning Swords of Death - Baphometic Chaosium (2013)

While Baphometic Chaosium doesn't necessarily retract the limitations of its predecessors, it compensates with a superior, frightening sense of atmosphere that makes it an engaging rabbit hole to tramp down all the same; or rather, a gaping abyssal maw which might consume a listener even if the actual metal core of the band is nothing all that impressive or unique. The Golden Plague and The Extra Dimensional Wound were not bad efforts, all told, but I couldn't help but feel underwhelmed at how the beautiful, engrossing artwork led to only a banal songwriting style that did little to upstage or deviate from prepackaged Scandinavian aesthetics, with only marginal differences in the vocals and production. In short, the Lightning Swords of Death had yet to really carve out their own point of view, something one might expect their geographical location (L.A.) might afford them, so far from those Satanic fjords and forests of the Norse and Swedish forebears.

Baphometic Chaosium does just that, but at the expense of much in the way of interesting riffs coursing through this tenuous 39 minute struggle with sanity. Elements of thrash and death metal have never been alien to their sound, yet here they strafe directly between the black/death genres, with a lot of morbid tremolo picking sequences that carry the ritualistic, bleak narrative of the vocals. Speaking of which, they've done a tremendous job to incorporate a cleaner, mournful doomed chant in among the expected rasps ("Acidgate"), wretched whispers of suffering ("Chained to Decay"), and so forth. The production of the guitars and drums here is extremely fluid. Primal and punishing, but remarkably polished so that the varied ambient effects do shine through when they are summoned forth from the pervasive, opaque occult atmosphere. The blast beats sound like an assembly line of brickworkers trying to wall off the terrors of the underworld, and the bass guitar often exudes a clever groove here or there to distinguish it from the straightforwardness of the rhythm guitar. Most of all, the ambiance of the album is extremely resonant whether it's been treated with a sort of atonal, warped spatial woodwind atmosphere (in the instrumental "Cloven Shields") or being used with more subtlety through the metal tracks.

I still really wish more ingenuity was being placed into the rhythm guitar progressions, and as an example of this, you'll hear how instantly something like the wavering, vile sequence in "Psychic Waters" stands out over the guitars in several of the other tracks. The ability is there to create this dissonant, fucked up mass of writhing, seething tendrils that can match the ominous, surreal ambient elements, but generally they stick to some fairly predictable patterns that don't exactly leave an impression on the melody. Thankfully, though, the album taken as a whole is more than sufficient, and provided a more harrowing excursion than either of their earlier full-length releases. Definitely an album to recommend to those who appreciate when a band steps outside of its brutal or incendiary status quo to offer a counterbalance of eeriness and atmosphere; such as Marduk's Wormwood, Emptiness' latest (Error), or 1349's last few records (though they were not themselves successful). I still don't think the Lightning Swords of Death have hit their peak potential, but it would only take a small push further in this direction to create a truly compelling concoction. Baphometic Chaoisum is more than a stopover until that time, and I enjoyed it.

Verdict: Win [7.5/10] 
 
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Believer - Dimensions (1993)

Though their first two records revealed obvious hints of experimentation, it wasn't until Dimensions that Believer would fully embrace their inner nature as progressive metal pundits with what is undoubtedly their most interesting, if not highest quality effort. Making better use of anything from samples to acoustic guitars, operatic vocals to deranged sound effects, and perhaps most centrally, a truly varied palette of thrash riffing dynamics that draws heavily upon jazz/fusion and classical sources. Like a number of other acts in the thrash and death metal fields (Pestilence, Cynic, Atheist, etc), it was evident that the Pennsylvanians were not merely content to repeat themselves, and desired a metamorphosis of their chosen medium into a vaster aural tableau. That they do this without sacrificing the thrashers within them, is to their great credit, even if Dimensions does lack some of the punch and power of its predecessor Sanity Obscure.

You wouldn't know the band had changed itself all that much judging by the first half of this disc alone, which is a natural extension of the first two, laden with thrash riffs that culminate in some scorchers like "Singularity" or the clinical "No Apology", but by that point the band have already slipped us a bunch of those random, neurotic effects that always seem to cast us back into the madhouse whenever we've settled into some pure, palm-muted, frenzied goodness. There are some uncanny sounds on this thing, like that quivering, unnerving ambient intro to "What Is But Cannot Be" or the introspective narration above the acoustics in "Dimentia". Bachman's vocals themselves are just as suffused with anxiety as they were on Sanity Obscure, with the caveat that they feel cleaner, as if recorded in a more sterile environment. The same could be said for the guitars, which is why they feel a fraction more piecemeal and far less forceful than the prior albums. Granted this is music that requires some degree of polish, professionalism and refinement, that the listener is able to pick out the nuances and the vast swaths of notation delivered through the guitars, but I admit that I've long felt this was a bit too surgically sterile in terms of its weight.

That aside, one distinct area of improvement is that the thinner guitars permit the bass to step out and slink along independently of their crushing weight, which was an issue on Extraction from Mortality and to a lesser extent Sanity Obscure. The level of variation in the writing lends itself to a more natural dichotomy in the percussion, which might share the lack of hard hitting resonance of the guitars, but grants a lot more space to mess around with fills, rides, hi-hats, etc. But probably the brightest selling point for this record, at the time, was the "Trilogy of Knowledge" suite which occupies Dimension's latter half. Collaborator Scott Baird and his sister Julianne once again contributed their classically honed talents to create an honest to God symphonic proponent that meshed quite well with Believer's thrashing matrix, and while it's not in of itself highly memorable, there was a certain novelty to the effort which had to be appreciated. Today, symphonic metal (or at least use of certain components) is quite commonplace, but the early through mid 90s was an age of brutes and the emergence of shit-tastic groove metal, so Dimensions was quite a gem in the rough, especially the contrast of Julianne and Kurt's voices.

Lyrically, the album still deals heavily with the topic of the band's faith, but also more heavily serves as a psychological profile on sanity, a discussion of man's place in the universe. It's not quite so in your face as a lot of similar minded Christian thrash acts, like the hilarious Vengeance Rising. At worst you get a bit of theistic defensiveness in "No Apology", or the "Trilogy of Knowledge" tracks which in parts feel like a sermon. As with the first two records, I've never really felt this was a major obstacle towards my enjoyment of the music as a whole (but I can say the same for most Odinist, Muslim, Satanic, Judaic, Mythos, Hindu, Buddhist and Christian metal I encounter, your own mileage may vary). Unfortunately, despite its polish and progression, Dimensions came a bit late in the Golden Age cycle of thrash to make much of a splash, and its inquisitive and experimental nature ran in direct opposition to the 'dumbing down' of the nu-metal, groove metal and metalcore onslaughts that were nearly underway. Makes sense that this would be the 'writing on the wall' for Believer, at least until their 21st century rebirth. I've never much been in love with this record, preferring the more belligerent psychosis of Sanity Obscure, but it's nonetheless interesting, and fans of records like Focus, Spheres, Deception Ignored, Elements, and 90s Mekong Delta should give it a whirl.

Verdict: Win [7.25/10] (a chance reshuffling of matter)

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Believer - Sanity Obscure (1990)

Not only was Sanity Obscure a pretty dramatic improvement over the technical thrashing Believer debut Extraction from Mortality, but it also brought the band to the attention of a larger audience through a deal with Roadrunner Records, which had been exploding for years with a number of masterful albums in numerous sub-genres, and had a higher visibility than the band's Christian label R.E.X. Music (home also to bands like Sacrament, Detritus and Living Sacrifice). Interestingly, this is not such a massive change in terms of its song- and soundscaping: the riffs are just that much better, and there's a more immediate sense of chaos and tension manifest through the guitars and vocals. Those angry and incendiary Christian lyrics from the debut remain, but only on about half the songs; the rest are quite thrash-friendly and topical to events that were (and still are) a big deal to an audience whose unrest and political ideas were often embodied in the music that inspired them; for instance, "Nonpoint" and its environmental theme borne straight out of the 80s, but relevant even today.

It helps a great deal that the sophomore opens with what are, in my estimation, the best two Believer cuts in their entire catalog. "Sanity Obscure" opens with freakish tones of disjointed nursery rhymes, almost like it were being played at you through the loudspeaker of some psychotic ice cream truck; and then comes a dissonant build into a simplistic thrash break, and then the Pennsylvanians unleash a heavenly host of cinders and ash through their taut, precision riffing. "Wisdom's Call" is Christened with a groovy beat before its own meaty guitars erupt into a splendorous, surgical display of palm muted harmonies. There remains that dense, industrial grade soullessness to the guitar tone, but I feel like the lows and highs of the strings are better captured, and thus the muscle of each progression really hits the listener in the gut. I'd compare it to the Teutonic gods Destruction, but I'd be thinking more of their 2000 and beyond reunion era, albums like All Hell Breaks Loose or The Antichrist. Though furious enough to satisfy the audience of West Coast thrash like Dark Angel or Exodus, I'd actually go one further and say that the way Kurt Bachman and Dave Baddorf formulated the riffs on this thing are clashing, compact and chaotic enough that they might satisfy fans of adventurous Floridian death/thrash outfits like Atheist, Cynic, Hellwitch or later Death. I even prefer it to much of those bands' output (I'd take it over Piece of Time, for example), even if it's not so dextrous, jazzy or technically profound.

Bass is still an issue, but even if it's not as compelling as, say, a Roger Patterson or Tony Choy, it buzzes and burps along here with more of an intensity and distinction than on the debut. Additionally, the drums feel more fleshed out, with a nice snap to the snare, and some more flexible double bass and near blast work, though like most thrash acts the beats were influenced more through rock and punk music. While they don't abandon that hacking, angry inflection they possessed on the debut, Bachman's vocals also seem better rounded. You can make out more of that tortured decay in the longer syllables, and he definitely feels like he's crawling along the Emergency Room floor with a burst appendix or some other tangible, unshakable form of physical pain wracking his entire person. They continue to play around with the idea of orchestral ingredients, this time largely through the incorporation of the female operatic vocals and symphony in "Dies Irae (Day of Wrath") which persist through the nearly six minutes of the track; for sure one of the earliest examples of an extreme metal band implementing such strings and sound design alongside the heavier fare. A less seamless fit than you'd hear on, say, Into the Pandemonium, but quite fitting to the manic intensity of Believer's metal riffing.

Really, any 2-3 of the originals on this album would provide me with more replay value and choice riffage than the entirety of Extraction from Mortality, but Sanity Obscure is also about 6-7 songs deep in terms of consistent quality and coherent variation. Not until the cover of U2's "Like a Song" do I feel an urge to skip a track, and in their defense, they at least inject that with some punky/thrash enthusiasm while attempting to maintain The Edge's sense for atmospheric playing. The CD reissue contains an instrumental bonus track called "I.Y.F." which is a more harmonious use of the two guitars, but this also has rougher production values as it hails from their 1987 demo The Return. Ultimately, this has proven the sturdiest of their full-lengths to date, sounding just as fresh and pulverizing as it was the first time I laid my hears on it, and with great haste I would recommend this to the connoisseur of technical thrash or death/thrash metal, provided he or she doesn't mind sharing a seat with Jesus for just the one bus ride. A refined, evolutionary stopgap between the Bay Area and Teutonic thrash tones of the late 80s, and the emergent fusion of progressive Florida death.

Verdict: Win [8.75/10] (the birth pains have begun)

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Believer - Extraction from Mortality (1989)

Believer was one of the forerunners in a wave of technical, compelling Christian thrash acts dropping albums in the later 80s, including such others as Tourniquet, Deliverance, and Sacrament. Though their religious interests certainly wouldn't prove popular among many metal circles today, and in truth weren't such a hot commodity even back then, they married their convictions to some admirably aggressive songwriting, which in my estimate places their appeal far beyond the bounds of those of like-minded faith. Granted, I'm not and never have been one to hold a bias against worship-based metal (of any creed) unless it's excessively preachy or cheesy (and not in a fun way), but I think a lot of folks who balk at the terms 'Christian' and 'metal' in unison would be taken aback at just how pissed off this Pennsylvanian outfit was through their earlier records. Tracks like "Blemished Sacrifices", "D.O.S. (Desolation of Sodom)" and "Vile Hypocrisy" on the debut Extraction from Mortality are quite scathing in terms of their message, and not leaving a lot of room for interpretation, yet the music is surgical and meticulous enough that non- or anti-Christian fans of hostile thrash could easily hurdle the lyrics.

That's not to say Believer's debut was a  masterpiece by any definition, and in fact it leaves something to be desired, but even this early, they were performing a brand of thrash quite rare, and remaining so. Musically this felt like a veritable tornado of semi-technical riffing aesthetics redolent of what bands like Destruction, Mekong Delta, Vendetta and Deathrow were writing over in Germany, only supplanted into a muscular momentum familiar to West Coast US acts like Testament, Exodus and Heathen who were offering us a more progressive, or more pummeling variation on the laws set by a Master of Puppets. Vicious, busy, and abusive sequences of palm mutes and triplets drive much of the action, and the guitars are mixed with a soulless and unapologetic certainty which is sure to induce fits of headbanging. The leads aren't great, but they're definitely practiced and clinical in nature, like a poor man's Alex Skolnick; the setback is simply that they're rarely so memorable as those strung together on a record like The New Order, Master of Puppets or Rust in Peace. One couldn't argue that a lot of thought was put into this selection of tracks, but apart from a pure visceral level, I've never been able to connect with them. Extraction from Mortality was no 'hit generator', at a time when more proficient and complex albums by Artillery, Deathrow, Coroner and so forth were able to provide both instant accessibility and accumulated depth through repeated listens.

Ultimately, I remember this more as a setup for its successor Sanity Obscure than anything else, because that sophomore was able to take this existing blueprint and fashion it into a superior set of songs. The lack of distinct bass lines (or bass presence in the mix) definitely drops a possible dimension from its appreciation, and thus so much focus is spent just on the guitar patterns and the angered vocals of Kurt Bachman. In the case of the former, there are a handful of cuts like "Unite", "Tormented" and "Extraction from Mortality" itself which manifest enough excitement through their onslaught that they could throw down with the lion's share of their US peers, but looking at Extraction as a whole it often feels like a tireless parade of notes that just don't form themselves into emotionally resonant phrases. Bachman sounds quite goddamn convincing, if you'll pardon the pun, sort of a missing link between the two best known Dark Angel frontmen (Don Doty and Ron Rinehart); a hoarse and furious treatment which occasionally channels a bit of angrier Snake (Voivod) or Kurt Brecht (D.R.I.). At the same time, though, you get tired of his inflection after just a handful of tracks, because there's not enough variation or interesting syllabic delivery to compensate for the matrix of skilled but dispirited guitar progressions thundering beneath it.

I did like the few hints of real experimentation here, like the disjointed use of samples and discordant pianos to open "Unite", creepy clean guitars inaugurating "Shadow of Death", or the lengthy and moody symphonic intro to the title track; things to pay attention to, as they'd play a role in influencing Believer's third album Dimensions (1993). That said, there were not enough of these balanced throughout the length of the record to make a difference, and other instances of stepping out the comfort zone, like the funk/reggae closure to "Stress", or the dumb 'skit' that heralds the "Vile Hypocrisy" remix on the reissues, which I can't imagine was ever funny to anyone but the band themselves. Neither lasts long, but they still mar the surface of a record which seems so predicated on tension and conviction. All told, Extraction from Mortality is indeed an ambitious and proficient introduction to Believer canon, with a riff set that might sate those into bands as diverse as Exodus, Mekong Delta, or more recently, Vektor and Ritual Carnage; but it simply did not have the songwriting charm of so much else that was happening in that 1988-91 period, and at best serves as a second or third tier filler between binges of No More Color, Control and Resistance, Think This, Deception Ignored, Victims of Deception and Paradox's Heresy.

Verdict: Indifference [6.75/10] (leaving the corrupted flesh behind)

https://www.facebook.com/believerband

Beheaded - Never to Dawn (2012)

Never to Dawn is one of those records which I could hurl a hundred compliments at, and yet still, when the dust of all that praise cleared, I'd have to admit that I didn't derive a wealth of enjoyment from it. The fourth Beheaded full-length, and second for Unique Leader, it does actually steer the Maltese band's sound away from its predecessors into a slightly more unique realm, and it's easily the best produced in terms of the drumming, the guitar tone, the vocals, and the use of a few decently timed samples. The cover art is phenomenal, while sort of keeping the theme of its predecessor Ominous Bloodline, but strangely enough, it lacks some of the dark depth and density of that disc. Don't get me wrong, this is still intense and meticulous death metal, but it honestly has more of an organic feel to it through the higher studio standards implemented.

Where before, Beheaded were perhaps all too easily comparable to a number of other pummeling brutal death bands like Deeds of Flesh, Internal Suffering, or Suffocation, this album often reminded me of acts like Hate Eternal, Diabolic, Cannibal Corpse, with perhaps a few touches of Polish extremity circa Behemoth or Vader's blast sequences, and loads of Morbid Angel grooves. Christ Brincat has never sounded better than here, and in fact I'd go as far as to say the mix of his drums simply crushes anything on the earlier works presenting us with a lot of clarity into just how hard (and often) he hits, how intricate his footwork. The rhythm guitars in pieces like "Elapsed in the Vortex of Extin" are choppy and explosive, with a lot of the band's forward firing palm mutes interspersed in decent tremolo patterns, which at their most corpulent (the closing moments of "The Ancient Acumen") often entailed a little Swedish harmonic death influence. The bass guitar wasn't often sticking out for me, but at least I could hear it battering away down there like a mallet. Most impressive were some of the lead sequences, like in "Elapsed...", where they hit that great groove in the bridge, really taking the whole experience to another level. I only wish there were a few more comparable moments of excitement through the 3/4 of an hour the album lasts.

In the tradition of never having the same vocalist twice on any full-length, they've got another new one here named Frank Calleja, and he's hands down the most distinct they've had yet, capable of not only molding himself to the bands blunter guttural barrage, but leaving a trail of ground up organs in his wake with a nasty snarl not unlike the Floridian forebears like John Tardy, or coughing up some gruel like Peter of Vader. In fact, you can just feel this dude reaching into his gut to pull out these tortured, blood gargling tones and it adds a lot of depth and character. For this and numerous other reasons, Never to Dawn is hard to deny as a creative, production pinnacle for the group, at least since Perpetual Mockery; the caveat is that a lot of the songs really don't stand out to me in their entirely. There are some great parts, sure, and I really dug the mostly instrumental "Towards an Abducted Sun" and both the first and last tunes, but overall this was always a step or two below mind-blowing and I was eagerly awaiting more explosive, memorable note progressions that just never came to be. Ultimately, it's a very professional, seasoned brutal death outing, and fans of Morbid Angel, Hate Eternal, Severed Savior, Vader and late 90s Kataklysm should check it out and see what they think.

Verdict: Win [7/10]

http://www.facebook.com/BeheadedMT

Beheaded - Ominous Bloodline (2005)

Hardly a departure from the direction Beheaded were pursuing with the two previous releases, Ominous Bloodline succeeds because of two important factors: a stronger sense of purpose and punishment to the songwriting which is manifest through a bevy of superior riffing, and a deeper, darker production standard which encapsulates the guttural, often gurgling vocals, courtesy of Melchior Borg, the vocalist coming in to replace Lawrence Joyce. I won't lie, this is essentially Recounts of Disembodiment 'in space', done right, and dutifully and mercilessly kicking the shit out of you. Perhaps it's just the excellent cover art, or the opacity of the music's mechanical intensity, but listening through this disc was like being in a space vessel as it was being swallowed by a black hole (or Elder God, if that's your thing), shaking to pieces while the rest of the crew around you bursts into an abstract sculpture of blood and organs. Resurgence of Oblivion and Recounts of Disembodiment failed to even place me in a proper headlock, but Ominous Bloodline thrusts me down on the block and proceeds with a single, savage stroke to separate my brain cage from the rest of my body.

Mind you, there's nothing particularly novel or unique about the album in terms of its techniques. Choppy semi-technical spurts of rhythmic voracity infused with breakdowns circa Suffocation; tail end trilling guitar surgeries courtesy of Cannibal Corpse; callous, cold blasting redolent of Deeds of Flesh. But the pacing and balance of each track is more meticulous. The rhythm guitars have this processed punch to them that feels like you're bonked rapidly and repeatedly in the face with a wrench, and when they lapse into a groove you can really feel the weight of the mutes to the point where it becomes irresistible to resist the primal, pit starved neanderthal within. Imagine the primates pacing about the monolith in 2001: A Space Odyssey if they were to suddenly start moshing one another. The leads, too, are fare more skillfully elevated to give off a progressive, almost jazzy eloquence as they scream off into the vacuum of utter darkness, and the bass guitar thunders along like turbulence as you're entering the atmosphere of a dead, or dying world. I can certainly understand why some might find the snare drum too clappy sounding, and the drums do more or less give off a soulless, robotic impression, but the force of the kicks and the overall aesthetic actually work well with the vast, otherworldly horror of the music, a nihilistic intergalactic asylum.

The vocals, likewise, are an improvement over the previous record in that you can really feel out the brute soreness of the delivery. He's got a good, growling sustain, and there are plenty of snarls spackled over the density of the guttural to keep the performance schizophrenic and malevolent, or spatial effects (as in "Ill Remains") that enforce the dark, futuristic appeal of the writing (though the lyrics aren't necessarily sci-fi in nature). The selection of tremolo picked guitars here isn't necessarily more athletic or original than on Recounts, but it's certain set in a better contrast with the denser low notes and feels more freshly grating and hostile. Tracks like "Rooted in Profundity" or "Vaults of Ageless Pain" can certainly deliver a headache due to their potent, percussive construction, but all told I felt far more enthusiastic and engrossed in the material than ever before, even on the band's promising debut Perpetual Mockery which was an incarnation of the band as its most promising and unique. Ominous Bloodline isn't ultimately the most individual sounding record in the medium, and in terms of technicality or riff progression it's not as 'rocket science' as it looks, but it's nonetheless a damn fine brutal death record, and a pugilistic monument of escapism.

Verdict: Win [8/10] (radiating in utter revulsion)

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Beheaded - Recounts of Disembodiment (2002)

If it's any indicator as to just how dreadfully forgettable Beheaded's sophomore Recounts of Disembodiment is in the grand scheme of brutality, I had actually completely forgotten that it existed, and was beginning to put down my thoughts for its successor Ominous Bloodline when I had the nagging suspicion that I was missing something. From its formulaic songwriting framework to its use of one of Toshihiro Egawa's least impressive cover images, there's just nothing about this album that screams 'listen to me' over any number of other brutal death atrocities of the new millennium, and it suffers from a lot of the same symptoms that plagued its predecessor, the Resurgence of Oblivion EP. Not a total bust, and by no means a terrible record, but this one leaves the psychic impression of the 'also-ran' stamped upon its surface in so many places that any benefits one otherwise might have derived from the experience are smothered. In short, there's just nothing curious or compelling about Recounts of Disembodiment that I can't find elsewhere.

The writing here is occasionally as harried and fast-paced as the prior EP, but here they've settled into a lot of 4x chug/tremolo riff setups that feel soddenly generic and uninteresting when there are such a vaster array of dynamics available to such skilled musicians as Beheaded obviously are. If the note progressions were at least ear catching or 'evil' sounding, that might be one thing, but most of the structure to this album reminds me of textbook Deicide blueprints being filtered through a Suffocation lens. The palm muted slam grooves are a dime a dozen, without ever configuring into something truly violent, and the interspersion of these against the faster material is all too predictable and staged to sound like yet another of countless worship bands. Granted, there are a few tunes among the ten here that raise the stakes due a few superior grooves or old school death metal spurts which sound immediately more menacing than any of the by-the-numbers; "Consecrated Absurdities", "Compelling Derangement" and "Fed Upon Odium" all have a few moments of shine amidst the surrounding dullness, but even these don't engage the imagination for very long. The squeals of the guitars are generally a nuisance, and as with Resurgence..., I found the blunt and percussive vocals to remain on the monotonous side, though arguably more diverse in pattern than they had been on the EP.

A few of the leads are interesting, and lyrics remain a strong point for the Maltese, but in truth when I take this particular album and compare it to something by Deeds of Flesh, Cryptopsy, or the earlier works of Australians Psycroptic, I feel like it's often too set into a particular, hollow framework without much by way of inspiring ideas. The production's alright, with a nice sense of crunch to the guitars that gives the strident grooves a feel not unlike Morbid Angel's breakdowns on Domination, or Suffocation's Pierced from Within. The bass has a bit of a bombastic pop to it that helps it register against the guitars, and all of the instruments and vocals are reasonably balanced here. It was Beheaded's best mix to its day, but that can only get you so far, because I can say without question that among the hundreds of riffs throughout the album, there isn't one that truly drags me under. It's the audio equivalent of watching a mundane slasher horror flick which is composed of predictable stabbing after stabbing, and in my opinion the nadir of what work they've yet released. Worthwhile only if you're one to get excited by anything brutal, mildly technical and with the appropriately sick cover art and logo.

Verdict: Indifference [5.75/10] (the predator will gradually gorge)

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