The three upon the threshold hear the call and open the oak door. A small fire crackles in the hearth to their right. Before them, soft golden light emanates from around the ageing mage’s greying brown locks. The host lounges upon their couch behind a table, puffs at their pipe, and gestures toward the sturdy wooden chairs around the small table before them.
They observe strange movement upon the table’s top, a mosaic of broken tiles shaped into a swirl of a fantastical many coloured wind. Mesmerised, exhausted, the journeymen sit. Savoury smells of fresh bread and herbs fill them with the kind of hunger they’ve known all their lives. Hunger and hope. A mist rolls in under the door and snakes about their now bare feet. Mugs appear before them filled with bittersweet ambrosia. Again, the conjurer gestures. Our weary travellers glance at each other, shrug, and drink. When the music hits them, they open their eyes with an irrevocable sense of imminent transcendence.
What is this infinite sound? The question is simultaneous and unspoken. Do they imagine the unification of their voice in the silent space between their minds? In unison, they rise, they move independently with an organic groove, a rhythm unsparing, with tools of the gods now in their hands, tools now limbs, one with each of them, a sudden singularity. Everything becomes one in every colour, everything the result of broken light. As one they understand that everything beautiful comes from something broken. The wizard morphs. Before them the table dissipates and the couch is swallowed by the mist. Out of the blur struts a tremendous, horn-crowned bovine, a buffalo of monarchic proportions.
In their awe, they play. Songs unfold like majestic spells of gratitude. Songs of journeymen. Songs of desire. Songs of survival. Songs of becoming. Songs full of the stuff of life.Beyond the walls, beyond the generations, we turn our ears to listen, to hear, and our hearts are taken by the propulsive, full body and soul sense that this is a rare shared moment of absolute knowing we are experiencing something special. The buffalo shakes its woolly head, seems to nod approval at this jamming troupe of radical ragamuffins before stepping back into the misty way slowly solidifying into the wall, the couch, the lounging wizard smiling with a pipe in their mouth.
You will remember this. They do not doubt the wizard’s words. Neither do we. 10/10
Feather Mountain – To Exit A Maelstrom (Self Released) [Quinn Mattfeld]
When bands include both metal vocals and clean singing, it feels a bit like a laundry detergent that works too well: the brights are too bright and the darks too dark. It’s a strange fate that I just made up and on their sophomore album To Exit A Maelstrom, Feather Mountain manages to avoid it almost entirely… almost. The opening track August Mantra sounds like a blend of The Ocean and Incubus with a melodic verse and proggy bridge, building to a superlative culmination of harmony and discord. It’s a blueprint for other bands on how to combine the lightness with the dark and they do it again on Beneath Your Pale Face when lead vocalist Mikkel Aaen Lohmann unleashes the full power of his voice to dazzling effect.
On Pariah I feel like the combination of vocals starts to feel a bit dissonant. The respective vocalists feel like they are in different worlds. In the same way that in musical theatre, characters sing when normal conversation isn’t sufficient, a great metal vocal often feels like shifting into another gear, when just singing isn’t enough to convey the emotion of the song. But on Pariah they occupy the same space and without much cause. Its like someone choosing to both whisper and shout while in a crowded bar; only one is required and the presence of the other is just confusing.
From here on, the album is a stunningly beautiful work of art: the combination of Cloud-Headed into Sincere is the reason God created progressive metal and they kick off a 5 song sequence that culminates in the pseudo-title track and album closer Maelstrom containing riff work so brilliant that Feather Mountain knows well enough to let it stand on its own for a few iterations before bringing in the drums (followed by the rest of the band) to close the deal. Feather Mountain has built a brilliant second record despite one random reviewer laundering his proclivities about the vocals an early track. 9/10
Slugcrust - Ecocide (Prosthetic Records) [GC]
Finding their home on Prosthetic Records Slugcrust have dragged themselves from the decaying waste lands of upstate South Carolina and they have put out a claim for the southern grindcore crown covered in all its dirty, punishing, and savage glory. This is their first album having already released 2 EP’s and it’s a savage statement of intent and a damming verdict of the world we are currently having to deal with, they cover politics and the never-ending destruction of the planet with raw, emotional anger and disgust for the people perpetrating the crimes.
Opener Demise Promise builds on a sludgy bass line and introduces a slow and steady stomp before unleashing a brutal grind attack that drags us into the closing grove infused death metal pounding its more of the same brutality on Drag Me To Agony before on track 3, Buzzard Car we get the first taste of some hardcore which runs nicely alongside the relentless pace and is sure to get you two-stepping! No Heirs/Dead Souls is another slice of grinding brutality that is then broken up by more two-step infused sections on Echoless which leads into the menacing ArachnoMatricide which is menacing and dark and drags itself into your mind coming across like Eye Hate God before it blasts itself into life and tears along to an unhinged finish.
One of the high points on Ecocide is without doubt the ferocious vocal delivery of Jesse Cole every word and verse is spat with venom and hatred, and you can really feel the passion he has for these songs all the way through every track, this is highlighted beautifully on Petrochemical a remarkable performance. The next few tracks all blast, grind and groove their way into your conscious before we get to the title track which is a big broodingly brutal death metal barnstormer filled with huge riffs and stop start tempos and more agonising vocals all intertwined with the unrelenting attack bestowed upon us previously which leads nicely into final track Event Horizon which is another slow burn that drags us along for the ride before exploding into life for one final dizzying blast of grinding mayhem.
This was a blast (no pun intended) to listen to and was energetic, emotional, raw, savage, and non-stop all at the same time. The grindcore was brutal, effective, and relentless the death metal was groovy, brooding and punishing and the use of sludgy doom-esque riffs mixed with tinges of hardcore make this an eclectic mix of styles that hits its marks on a regular basis and keeps you on your toes until the very end. 7/10
Awaken The Misogynist – Descended From Vast Dimensions (Savage Slam Death) [Matt Cook]
Good grief. Remember when you were in middle school and your parents went out for the day? So, you called some friends over to, I don’t know, play video games and say words you’d never be able to say in front of your parents simply because you could, hoping that your friends eventually treated you like their cult leader? Remember when you were an angsty teen, hungering for shock value because that was the only way you could ever get real attention? Well, if you ever wondered how that could translate into Deathcore, look no further than Awaken The Misogynist, a band that clumsily attempts to impress their older brother’s “cool” friends by doing what they think is considered “cool” but instead comes off as an insufferable kid.
I really wanted to give Descended From Vast Dimensions a fair shot, but it was doomed from the beginning. I mean, seriously. The introductory track – Slamertainment Tonight – is literally a game-show host waxing poetic and ball-washing the entire band before anything has even happened. Keep in mind, this is the band’s debut. Way to put the carriage before the horse, folks. Don’t worry, it gets worse. All throughout this muddled disaster are clips that drop outdated, eye-rolling lines such as “cock-sucking r*tard” and “c*nt” which in and of itself is offensive in its archaic attempt to elicit a response, which I guess it did, but probably not the one they were aiming for. It’s the same as retweeting terrible shit while deflecting responsibility because it’s not you directly saying those words. You know, what teenagers do.
The elements are as bland as a ham sandwich, techniques that are merely reeee-gurgitated rubbish. The drums at times dins like an empty oil barrel. At one point, it sounds like the band either used a Salad Fingers clip (outdated, much?) or someone trying to mimic the phenomenon that’s old enough to legally vote by now. Kanstepated is another awful attempt at a pun and drops the line – gasp – ‘I love crack.’ Edge lords to the very end, I suppose. Resurrection I – Thirteen Bodies surprised me in that we didn’t get a “squeal for me, Daddy!” Resurrection II – Reigning Terror includes a harpsichord to remind listeners that Awaken The Misogynist are eclectic musicians who have a finger on the pulse of intricacies that far surpass what the general population can understand.
I’m doing the band a favour by not naming any of the members involved. Descended From Vast Dimensions is that restaurant you review on Yelp that is utter dogshit, but you must give it at least one star because the site doesn’t give an option for a goose egg. 1/10
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