SOME SONGS THAT APPARENTLY FAILED IN ARRESTING THE CHAOTIC SLIDE OF THE WORLD INTO A WELL OF DEATH MAY 12 – MAY 17
Really not in the mood, but doing this anyway. One wonders the point of it, but one does it anyway. Glorious.
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Nebelfaust – "Die Nacht zerfällt an Toren alter Mauern," from Das kalte Eisen des Mondes (Black Metal – Independent). One does not usually start off one's posts with black metal of this sort, and yet here one is. One wears black hoodies, one wanders in a frost-laden wood, one howls at the moon. This is what one imagines one doing while listening to this tremolo-happy brand of black metal. Thing is, however, one does not encounter this brand of black metal does as well as this pretty fabulous album from relatively new project Nebelfaust. One wishes one was covered in snow, one would not hear the delicate hum of fighter jets all day.
Process // Sleep – "Kaioken Times Four," from Wherever You Think You Belong, You Probably Don't (Screamo – Tomb Tree Tapes). One feels personally assaulted by the opening spoken word section of this absolutely gorgeous song hailing from what I can only imagine as the verdant pastures of Greenville, North Carolina. The fact one imagines it as verdant, is, of course, nothing but a product of the blunt suggestiveness of "green" in the said "ville." It might be that one is wrong and it's a piece of shit, which, admittedly would explain the quality of the emotive screaming present in said recording. Do you like to scream?
Noise Trail Immersion – "Arde e Respira," from Tutta La Morte In Un Solo Punto (Dissonant Black/Death – I, Voidhanger Records). One feels calm in this jagged arms of riff and pain, but one does not know why. A riddle as old as one's one personal time, on the relationship between violently extreme music and the sense of neurons falling in like ducklings on a mental assembly line. It has been some time, one notes, since Noise Trail Immersion, also known as The Fun Cats (they are not, in fact, also known as that) released any music, and it seems they took that down time in order to further hone their chaotic skills. This sounds to one like bliss, if bliss was hell. Hell is bliss.
Forged Relics – "Portal," from Portal (Funeral Doom Metal – Rope or Guillotine). One thinks of a relic, or of the word "relic." At the heart of any system of authenticity, there lies the relic. Ideas, thoughts, theories, all resting on and/or validated by the existence of a fragment of a lost but somehow definitively real past. One rests one's eyes on the growing mounds of cassette tapes one buys and then mounts on one wooden shelf above one's head and thinks of relics. The cassettes too are relics, as the sundry notes and stickers with which they arrive via international mail because one is, simply, international. But the shelf is a relic too, originally used as a handrail in one's old apartment, the same one was reluctant to leave, where one's love grew like a geranium and in which three beautiful souls were born. The relic remains, above one's head, in worship. A forged relic, thus, goes against the grain and essence of that worship, and thus one is faced with the possibility of either the denunciation of any worship or that of a specific, say, religious kind. Be that as it may, dear reader. The point isn't that one has failed to review the music produced by Forged Relics only to demonstrate the kind of meandering thoughts it produces. Demonstration. One hopes for a cassette, though one is profoundly fearful of shipping costs.
Empty Chalice – "Violated Oaths," from Violated Oaths (Black Metal – Independent). One returns to black metal. It is as if one takes the melancholy that had dripped from one like a faulty air-conditioner unit due to the previous entry and has transubstantiated that liquid into demo-quality rage. One finds many things to like in said demo, but one is particularly drawn to the force with which the drums are battered. May we all be battered thus.
Desekryptor – "Umbilical Stigmata," from Sarcophagal Corridors (Death Metal – Nuclear Winter Records). One's strange path of Desekryptor worship (history here) happily continues as the doom-tinged death metal project continues its filth march toward a world of riff and blood. One fails to find the words to hail the greatness of death metal always, but more so given the death face of the reality in which one has seemingly dwelt forever. But one is pleased. About the death metal. The rest is shit.
Pile – "Born at Night," from Sunshine and Balance Beams (Indie / Post-Punk – Scooper Records). One is in love with Pile, and one has consistently felt so since the release of their masterful Dripping. One feels like it is, it is, quite easy to fall short when dealing with emotion under the general guise of music succinctly referred to as "indie." And while it is that easy, one feels, Pile have never failed, have always done the hard thing, done the work. May they live forever. Or die. Enough death for now. Live, Pile. Live.
Intercourse – "Running a Cemetery Without a License" (Noise Rock – Brutal Panda Records). One has been both enjoying, relishing, and publicizing ones appreciation for Intercourse the band from Connecticut for some time now. One even had the absolute pleasure and honor of finally seeing them and seeing one's blood brother Tarek last year. One though that year sucked (seeing Tarek most definitely did not, but life did), which is fascinating since this one sucks more. Moreover, if I may, I find it interesting that Intercourse the band from Connecticut revealed that they are releasing a new album, via the legendary Brutal Panda Records, no less, in the same week that the above-mentioned Pile of Boston had done the same (via a different label). These two bands reside in the same space in one's soul, which is a space one cannot explain well. Perhaps an attempt, nonetheless: Real music by real people for real people.
Cadaver Shrine – "From The Maw of Madness," from Into The Horrible Depths (Death Metal – Chaos Records). One had mentioned a few weeks past that one had hitherto failed to mentioned all the "sick shit" being released by the always-excellent Chaos Records. Well, surprisingly to no one, one has failed to mention those until now too. But one cannot fail again, especially since one's head is bobbing so violently to the newest majesty emitted from the armpit of hell that is Maurice de Jong and his Cadaver Shrine. Filthy, pointless, angry, and violent, and, more and, more importantly, of the body for the body. A release for the soul.
FIVE MORE THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW
ONE: One has been begging for new music from The Banner since their decade-defining masterpiece The Greying. Well, one has not received that, but is, seemingly, receiving a remaster of that same album.
TWO: One has noted this release from Spume with the added remark: "Good, dumb shit."
THREE: The new album from Drouth is now fully out and one is compelled to urge you to listen to it because it might just be a top 2/3 atmospheric black metal for the year.
FOUR: Tavare, the beautiful sadcore project featuring, among others, Aidan the great of Nadja fame, announced a new album.
FIVE: Disembodiment present: More sick death metal.
ONE LAST THING, PROMISE: Witherer present: More sick black metal.
