LP Review: Pilgrimage of Loathing by MAKE

Only a year on from the release of one of our favourite records of 2015, North Carolina’s MAKE have released another album to make us stop what we’re doing and check how many superlatives we can fit into a short review, because these guys have gone one better than last year’s The Golden Veil, and created a record which is gonna really screw with your senses, and what’s better this time round is quite a menacing thing: MAKE are fucking angry!

The record opens with a slowly built follow on from last year’s release, before the sheer wall of noise hits you as ‘The Somnambulist’ hits you with what MAKE are all about this time round; musical stylings that flicker between beautiful atmospherics, and harsh dark doom that flows with anger and discontent with the society around them. But one of the stunning things about this band is that like a flick of the switch, they can turn the sound into a chanting like state of pleasure without losing any of their flow, never letting the listener settle for a moment, knowing what will come next. ‘Birthed Into A Grave They Made For You’ gets a little more deathly with the vocals, while the sludging riffs and war chant drumming makes your blood boil, echoing MAKE’s own disgust and vengeance. It’s a glorious aggression!

The astral plain style playing is there though, with the poetically named ‘Two Hawks Fucking’ sending psychedelic post-rock vibes reverberating through the speakers, the aftermath of the siege that came before it, right before ‘Human Garbage’ pins you down and continues to relentlessly punish any sort of sensitivity you had left. Their cover of The Stooges’ ‘Dirt’ is as Iggy would have sounded if a diet of doom, pain, blackness, demonic chants, and religious hypocrisy were his staple diet on a daily basis, and it is on point! It would be close to being an album highlight if it were possible to dissect the record into individual songs, and not viewed as a whole, as that is what is necessary with MAKE record; listened to as full records, all the way through, repeatedly.

It has been quite a journey listening to MAKE progress and develop through the years as a band, from Trephine to last year’s stunning The Golden Veil, to their latest spectacular effort, Pilgrimage of Loathing, we have become engrained in the band, willing them to achieve greater things with each effort, and they’re not disappointing. Their sound is combining all the elements that they’ve been teasing with in the past, the sludge/black metal scowls, the ethereal riffs from both hellish and tranquil plains of existence, and soundscapes that challenge the ears, toeing the lines between post-rock/metal, black metal, sludge, and good ol’ heavy rock, MAKE have seriously mastered their craft!

Bandcamp|Facebook

Band Submission: Heathe-Doom/Sludge From Aalborg, Denmark

Band Name: Heathe
Genre: Doom/Sludge
Location: Aalborg, Denmark
Brief Bio/Description: Heathe is a project born in Aalborg, Denmark out of the will to examine the massive and repetitive. The four tracks consists of drums, bass, guitars, organs, trombones, screams, bowed cymbals and wind all structured as massive walls of sound that constantly is on the vert of falling apart, with lyrical themes concerning the fragility of the human kind and how we are naturally evil.
Band Members: 
Martin Jensen: plays all the instruments, did the recording, mix and master, wrote the stuff and screamed the words
Links: Bandcamp

Sunday Sludge: Primitive Man - "Home Is Where The Hatred Is"

Much of the so-labeled doom we chew on is swollen with the promise of pain, an ominous descent into... well, something. Bands can reach the pit and the wolf at the door, as promised, busts through. Others present a threat and rely solely on those shadowy unknowns. I guess those sounds have their place. But sometimes, I just want a band to get to the fucking point.

By now we know Denver's Primitive Man to fall into neither camp. Since the trio's 2013 introduction of the brutal, excellent Scorn, they've set their own standard of blatant bludgeoning. Through various splits over the past two years, Primitive Man have all-at-once announced their presence, delivered their rust-fisted blows, and asserted their dominance by keeping a heel to our throats. Here, with the four tracks of Home Is Where The Hatred Is, they show no sign of relent.

The EP's half-hour of screeches and hovering spite begins with Loathe, tormenting behind sustained malevolence. Ethan McCarthy still gives zero fucks who may be in his way, and Spy's encircling drum work may as well be a hostile Korowai tribe for all the anxiety it catalyzes. This blackened sludge buries us so low that it's near-impossible to sense even a sliver of hope. The cavernous, all-encompassing infliction is parted by an icy wind that carries answers further out of our reach. And as doom timbers collapse in slow-motion, the jagged squalls only augment our misery.

Downfall finds a quick groove and laughs at restraints, later shifting blackened pitches but never escaping the mire. As McCarthy chokes out brutal truths, the supporting tapestry remains wholly caustic. Tone and mood are exceedingly bleak here, but isn't that consistent with PM's catalog? Over and over, we're dragged into a horrifying meld of loose dirt, hot tar, and spiking licks piercing the sludge glaze. It's a filthy, anguished roll in the hay. If hay were fucking razor wire.

In keeping with themes of doling calculated evil, the EP's closing tandem fails to let down. Double kicks head a charge on Bag Man, rolling into itself amid a cloud of soot. The steady escalation of ire is staggering, even for these guys. And when the tracks shift to introduce the closing A Marriage with Nothingness, we're simply ill-prepared. Pain and discord are reflected in a swirling, scraping, trippy mindfuck. As static gradually hazes, everything about this release grows more terrifying.

Buzzing throughout with equal parts callous disregard and deafening feedback, Home Is Where The Hatred Is marks another triumphant blow to our perceptions of the human condition. Ugly truths are never easy to swallow, and here there's no safe alternative. Primitive Man have snatched the torch and thrust it into our gleaming smiles. So what's it really sound like? I'd imagine slowly dying alone would look, feel, and sound something like this.

Pre-Order | Site | Facebook | Bandcamp | Relapse

Sunday Sludge: Indian - "From All Purity"

The most wonderful time of year just took a shit on our carpet. I'm not gonna waste anyone's time with an anecdote or a lead-in or some hazy bullshit diatribe. Your uncle's gonna be here in about three days, drunk, newly divorced, and ready to jizz off some stupid jokes. I won't smile as I share my thoughts on Indian's fifth full-length. But let's be honest; it's not out of courtesy. I'm simply too fucking battered after sitting with this release for forty minutes. My face hurts.

Indian have spent a decade slowly snuffing out listeners utilizing an incendiary, spiteful cocktail of misanthropic sludge, primitive doom, and an agonizing blackness that'll sink your hope-filled chest. From All Purity descends into depravity immediately and completely, six torturous tracks clouded with hatred and hardly caring to wonder if you're gonna be okay. 2011's Guiltless etched Indian into the ranks of the doom elite. January's From All Purity demonstrates their commitment to the cause.

The aptly-titled Rape is slow-motion sonic assault, splicing dull ache with sharp pain. But from the onset, the abrasions are what stand out. Screeching licks and organ-shredding vocals arrive with blatant malice, the rhythmic patience of slow dirge acting as a structural bonus. Timing and execution is a clinic here, precise and testifying to a band knowing exactly where to funnel their punishment. Under tapestries of shrill noise and weathered doom, Indian make no haste violating your frame at every level.

As you realize you won't be clubbed out of your misery, the shrouded chops of The Impetus Bleeds are just another extension of the distant, cavernous anguish. With the pulse of a murder factory, there's no catharsis accompanying this repetition. Indian slug at consciousness without allowing for numbness, just drawn-and-quartered brutality. Eternally evident is the stomp of sludge, punctuated by the piercing noise. As the album hits its stagger, Directional steadily sprays violent dust, buzzing with the descent of doom and drawn-out churns. A grindhouse aura of permeated spite greets slow-burning rhythms, guiding us as marked sheep.

Rhetoric of No is relatively amped, splitting sludge with a deceptive vocal vulnerability among sludge-doom riff mangling. Guitar embers brighten, revealing a heaving presence, squealing ans scratching at hope. The track is as untameable as it is undeniable, and we're being slowly buried. As tailing technology drains all sense on Clarify, an unsettling intermission breathes only shrill disturbances, scoffing at all things synthetic.

As this crusher sways to a close, gazing through dead, lifeless eyes, the metered and calculated devastation stays set on its target. A strange solemnity finally punches through after poking holes throughout the album. Plates shift and Indian's swarming sound envelopes all. Guitars buzz like hornets and double-kicks wrangle our ankles toward a death-drubbing. Atop your dying breath rests a cloud of despair, mocking your uncertainty.

If you've made it this far and struggled through all these descriptors, maybe you've found the digressions far more painful than you'll find Indian's breed of doom-drenched noise. The jagged glass that's been stomped into your cavities is just a whisper of what Indian offer with From All Purity. This is a band wringing their dirty hands and tossing bricks, but they're hardly aimless. These six tracks hit the spite-nail straight on the head, driven directly into your senses. I didn't think anyone could improve upon Guiltless. Somehow, these dudes have even less remorse than they did years three years ago.

For fans of: Minsk, Electric Wizard, Wolves In The Throne Room
Pair with: Accumulation White IPA, New Belgium Brewing

Site | Facebook | Bandcamp | Relapse

Sunday Sludge: Deuil - "Acceptance/Rebuild"

"But the trees in Stephen's Green were fragrant of rain and the rain-sodden earth gave forth its mortal odour, a faint incense rising upward through the mould from many hearts."

You're just in a state of shock. Give it a few days until the realization of total loss throws you to the floor in bawling fits. Everyone is expecting you to break down; just do your best to keep it from happening in public, mate. There are stages. This is normal. Assert all you want that it's not fair and doesn't seem real, but that can't change the fact that you've been left alone and the backbone you thought you had suddenly needs tightening.

"Deuil" translates to mourning, so perhaps the tight-lipped side-stares could've been expected. But Belgium's blackened funeral-sludge quartet offer an atmosphere of total loss and wash it down with angst and an audience of cautious observation. Acceptance/Rebuild responds to that knock on your door with slow tempos, tightly-threaded swirls of haunt, and skyward glances hoping to prevent tears from streaming south. That being said, it's gonna take a few listens before you're fully willing to start the grieving process.

Two tracks totaling twenty-seven agonizing minutes, eh? Trust us, it's pretty good. The tracks seem to execute exactly what their names suggest. Acceptance employs disembodied chants and a cloud of floating-static riffs to distract from the impending slow-sipping sludge stomp. Layers emerge and mournful sobs breed skin-scratching crackles, all under the canopy of inwardly-directed anger. Rueful violence splits at the edges and reveals a self-hate that just might block this "acceptance" from ever truly happening. Massive walls of regret swell and sweep with processional droning as backmasked memories linger and tick. The seventeen-minute opener is melodic and melancholy, completely exhausting in all its thick grief.

But if there's any hope of forward-thinking, Rebuild provides it. Consider it a white-winter gaze at what's left and what lies ahead. Hollow guitars expand with accompaniments of fuzz and slow tempos, but they find their steam and build under suspicious progressions. The guitars remain distant and guarded, but the track remains ever-confident in its promises of new life. The post-metal rhythms elevate and send us into a total warp of perception. The ultimate sludge-drone field of churning doubt where we lay our heads is, quite simply, another world.

Deuil channel their hurt in a direction that saturates and completely submerges anyone nearby. Acceptance/Rebuild isn't gonna let you stuff down the pain. The wholly-unsettling manner through which they deliver this sludge leaves little time to notice the dirt; you're focusing on the dead. When you do find a way to cope, Deuil are gonna be directly at your side. It seems they've done this before. Hell, this album could serve as a clinic on loss, mourning, and how the fuck you move on.

For fans of: Rorcal, Mournful Congregation, Lycus
Pair with: Über Sun Imperial Summer Wheat, Southern Tier Brewing Company

Bandcamp | Facebook | Big Cartel | Tumblr | Lost Pilgrims Records

Live review - Loserpalooza 13 with Sonance, Spider Kitten, Ghast, Atomck, Pohl, Homoh.

Here's something a little different from me today. I was lucky enough to attend a show last Saturday put on by one of the fine gentleman from the mighty Spider Kitten, a band that is fast rising in the UK heavy scene and who have previously received a very favorable review here on Heavy Planet for their album "Cougar Club."

This was the third annual Loserpalooza event held in Cardiff, the capitol city of Wales, put on to showcase some of the cream of the crop of doom, sludge and black metal bands hailing from the South West of the UK and the line up of bands on the night chosen by the event organizer and guitarist Chi from Spider Kitten was of a highly impressive standard with each band playing excellent sets to a venue packed full of appreciative doom metal heads.    

                             

Things kicked off fairly early with HOMOH taking the stage with an already busy venue of adoring fans and new converts. Complete with singer/guitarist Gareth with his faced daubed in black face paint, HOMOH tore through a disgustingly filthy set of sludge in a similar style as EYEHATEGOD. They played some older tracks from their "DEMOH EP" with a few new ones played which showed an interesting development in their sound which seemed more raw and stripped down than their previous work but was no less eye gouging and brain fucking. Despite the guitarist having problems with his guitar strap he fared very well indeed and proceeded to bash out riffs with his axe raised aloft in true black sludge heroisms. I was very impressed with HOMOH's live set as they are a band with a great stage presence and with new recordings in the pipe line and reworkings of tracks from their DEMOH EP, HOMOH are sure to be a band that will make a lasting mark on the sludge metal scene everywhere.

HOMOH

HOMOH BANDCAMP

After a short break for toots and refills of ale it was time for Pohl from Bristol UK to impress the rapidly growing crowd of hungry doom and sludge lovers. Previously a 2 piece they now have a bassist which, although they were already heavy with a gargantuan sound, he is a welcome addition to the band. Pohl's set was tight and full of fast paced and incendiary drumming with fat riffs and song structures that brought to my mind Big Business and The Melvins. Pohl never fail to impress and by the end of their set everyone in attendance was fully fired up and eager for the next priests of heavy to step up and preach the gospel of riff.

POHL BANDCAMP

Atomck were up next and this 3 piece ripped through a set of fierce and face melting grindcore and powerful noise with a very energetic vocalist utilizing much of the venue and even climbing onto the bar to shout harsh howls and guttural screams into the mic. Atomck are firm favorites in the South West metal scene and have played numerous gigs over the years and it shows. They are fast, noisy, aggressive, heavy and down right fucking balls kicking loud. I felt pretty exhausted by the end of their set but there was no way I was going to bail half way through the night so after a couple more ales and a few tokes I was feeling well enough oiled to hang around to witness the inevitable storm of doom lined up for the rest of the evening.

ATOMCK BANDCAMP

Ghast soon followed with a set of the doomiest of doom and furiously blistering black metal. It was a blend that worked very well and had everyone present nodding their heads in metal appreciation. This 3 piece from Swansea, Wales, know black metal as well as they do doom and blend the 2 genres seamlessly. Ghast looked very at home on stage and played a range of tracks that kept me interested and wanting to hear more by the time their slot was up. The crowd loved every second and showed their appreciation with loud roars, claps and whistles, satisfied that Ghast's chapter in the Loserpalooza book was firmly scribed and will not be forgotten any time soon.

GHAST FACEBOOK

Another short break for booze, buds and banter and then it was time for Spider Kitten to blast out their pleasingly heavy and slow and low doom with a set consisting of tracks that I have not heard from them before and none that appeared on their previous release "Cougar Club" so it was an honor to hear the tracks before they are put to record. Spider Kitten's sound has moved on somewhat from their last release with some tracks having long atmospheric and minimal moments of experimental doom that reminded me a little of Harvey Milk's work and sometimes The Melvins but the inimitable Spider Kitten sound and their dark bluesy vibes were still very much there. Their set was ground shaking and brain crushingly heavy and their riffs mouth watering and mesmerizing and had everyone, myself especially, captivated by the vast waves of low end and the high precision drumming from drummer Chris West (ex bassist of Taint). With nearly every member of the band taking their turn to sing vocals, Spider Kitten are a band that work together in an almost darkly spiritual unison with doom riffs so expertly executed it is no wonder that Spider Kitten are turning many heads in the UK doom scene their way right now. Big things are coming for this band and I and many others are very excited to hear what they have in store for us next.

SPIDER KITTEN

SPIDER KITTEN BANDCAMP

Finally it was time for Bristol born Sonance to step up to the wood and they proceeded to lay everyone flat on their backs with a set that was blinding in its creativity and mind blowing in its execution. Their doom is as heart felt as any of the bands that played on the night and with members on the floor and level with the tightly gathered crowd of maniacal doom brains it was like a 60's happening but with more hair and more black and more swearing. One guitarist at the end of their set crouched down with his guitar on the floor while he teased out beautifully chaotic noise and the rest of the band joined him in evoking a monolithic wall of doom that caused red eyes and tears of heavy joy in all. There is a post metal tinge to their sound but for the most part they were doom and sludge all the way with the doom surge only being broken by moments of deeply atmospheric and introspective drone wanderings until the spine folding explosion of doom and sludge lay a final waste to an already wasted crowd.

SONANCE

SONANCE

SONANCE BANDCAMP

Loserpalooza is a truly brilliant one day annual banquet of heavy music which any of our readers would appreciate and enjoy and with such a high quality of bands chosen for the show, the south west of the UK proves itself to be a veritable hotbed of amazing doom/sludge/post and black metal bands made up from many of the metal warriors that dwell in this particular corner of England and Wales.

Here, wrap you ears around this compilation put together by Spider Kitten guitar and vocalist and Loserpalooza organizer Chi to hear what I'm talking about.

Thanks and hails to all bands and all those involved in putting on an unforgettable night of true doom worship.

LP Review - "Death is the Border That Evil Cannot Cross" by Nihilosaur

Polish doom and sludge metal band Nihilosaur release their 3rd long player titled "Death is the Border That Evil Cannot Cross" with 10 tracks of blisteringly bleak odes to the darkside, although there are shards of light therein that serve to lift the emotions, albeit only briefly before Nihilosaur takes things back down again to create a wonderfully harsh explosion of sludge and black metal.

With track titles such as "Swedish Concentration Camp", "Fucked Up" and "Nightmares", before you even hit play you just know you're in for an onslaught of harsh realities slamming into your face in the form of big angry riffs, screamed and desperate vocals, fast paced and urgent drumming and an over-all comment that the world is not such a nice place when you look at it objectively.

Various samples are nicely placed before some tracks and some cleverly inserted within such as Snr. George Bush speaking of a New World Order, on the track "NASDAQ" or the very disturbing intro to "Unfortunately" which left me feeling cold.

The metal mastership on display throughout the album is impressive. Nihilosaur's song craft shows that these guys know how to construct highly enjoyable sludge metal with layers of black metal and glimpses of doom and despite the sometimes extremely dark places they explore there is real passion played throughout by all band members that makes this album so good.

"Death is the Border That Evil Cannot Cross" is offered by the band as a Name Your Own Price download at their Bandcamp.

BANDCAMP // FACEBOOK

Sunday Sludge: Grime - "Deteriorate"

Spells of sobbing and flickering tics of anxiety weren't on the menu this morning. I awoke to discover a developing tandem of nausea and disorientation while a dullness masked the grim reality of what's really happening. I hit the showers thinking I'd feel better after scraping and scrubbing at the awful, scabbed memory of torment and violation. Nothing seems to be helping. I suppose I'll just disassociate, crawl into poor health, and fantasize on some form of violent vengeance. But let's be serious; you don't just move on from something that just crushed your faith in humanity.

We first featured Trieste, Italy's Grime more than fifteen months ago, caking our flesh with their self-titled bouillabaisse of filth, fire, and sickness. Well, things have only gotten worse, and the end result is devastating and delicious. Welcome back their unsettling audio plucks and screeching track transitions, but try not to gape as you witness Grime's depravity as a swollen, snarling beast. Torturous riffs, barbed rhythms, and more than a soul's share of induced vomiting mark Deteriorate as a gigantic sophomore stride.

Damn, this feels so dirty. The skull-splitting hatred of Burning Down The Cross is heavy, lumbering, and organ-piercing. The guitar squeals may as well be the cries of the masses, damned by fate and blackened with fire. Marco's vocals operate as both victim and offender, throwing a gurgle that can't be fixed with green tea and honey. The churn and the chortle dig through graves, all the while grinning through Chris' black-toothed drum stomp. Relentless and heavy-handed, Grime are as vile a band as you'll find.

Down By The River Of Dreg fills a room with thick smoke, a slow suffocation of the world you've known. The repetition is coated in tar, caked with blood, and by now you've realized there's no reprieve here. You're knee-deep in shit, and shifting to a slow-motion catapult pointed at the killing fields is met with the last hope that your neck snaps on the way out. There's more rhythmic movement on Deep Cut, hinting at blues until the mallet makes another crack. It's unbearably slow, demonstrating Grime's patience with their own death rattle.

For all their crushing, Grime also maintain plenty of control. Restless Man and Pills craft a zero-hour dual descent into depravity. Imagine being lifted from your feet and dangled above gnashing hounds. Riffs boil your bones and the vocal sets fire to dirty panties. Hazy and violently meditative, the album's second half is surprisingly just as unsettling as its first. Plunging deeper and chopping at your senses, Idiot God closes the album as a complete amalgam of all the band offers. Thick, malevolent, abrasive... sure. But more importantly, Grime seem to reject all that is mainstream and embrace what's utterly distasteful.

Deteriorate is one slow, steady drill to the skull as you choke on your own blood. Make no mistake, you're gonna feel degraded, sore, and ashamed of yourself for enjoying this one. Grime's rusty blade punctures your chest at a snail's pace, recognizing that the slow and dull is far more painful than the sharp and frantic. Take a shot o' whiskey and bite down on a twig. And good luck pretending this never happened.

Facebook | Twitter | Bandcamp | Forcefield Records

Sunday Sludge: Eibon - "II"

Every now and then you'll scan a headline addressing the certain imminence of the approaching end times. These prophetic assertions normally fade quick and you'd be lying if you said you didn't wake up with just a brief smile of relief. What media overlooks is that metal, in all its forms, has visualized mass death and destruction for decades. Sure, most of this has been rife with schlock and camp, turning off listeners at the first hint of cartoonish Armageddon. But some bands get it right, carrying the most minuscule of chaotic conceptualizations all the way into the heart of an incredible doom opus.

Paris has its reputation as the universal hub of romance, fashion, and cuisine. You'd hardly believe one of the year's most well-crafted blackened doom albums could spring from such a place. Eibon stretch forty-three minutes over two tracks on II and shatter what you thought you knew about a city you've only seen in movies. Recorded in a live setting, II contains incredibly convincing gloom while celebrating the proficiency each of the band's five members toss on the table. Churning sludge and wispy drafts hardly find balance with any ease, yet Eibon's seasoned lineup flexes its mastery and convincingly affirms the demise of all we know.

The whole of the album is both dense and tense, whether its bred by cavernous thumps or splintered licks. On The Void Settlers, listeners aren't afforded a warm up. The riffs on this nineteen-tick crusher push away at the low end, only to find themselves ensnared even further. The vocal is more than a tad chuffed; this weathered bark is all that remains after your homeland's been decimated. You could expect shifting tempos, but could you expect the structures to fit so tightly? The murderous calm trickles only so long until thunderous passages hurl bricks from an overpass. Envision clouds gathering as swirling howls descend into madness. Crisp, gargantuan drums help your conditions to progressively worsen and the bass motor gradually emerges with slow predation. Eibon's chaotic chemistry is celebrated here, picking at scabs until the rhythms lift toward an absolute spiral of melting atmospheres and diminished viscosity.

And how does a band follow THAT? You might need a minute before diving headfirst into the drained cement pool of Elements of Doom. The churn of the train yard marries the early morning ironworks on a desolate, blustery morning. There's a slow-creeping sorrow extending through static on the entire album, but here the promise of dusty darkness is undeniable. Post-metal, blackened sludge, whatever you call it... the woodshop guitars find a grinding meter on a build toward screeching flames. When the relative calm of guitar buzz descends, you just might have a spare moment to prepare for the complete dissolution of sense and comfort. The black-metal assault on your frame breaks to close on a cool, placid trickle. Shake out those loose teeth, but don't open your good eye. As the guitar lingers and ultimately retreats, the waft and wane is little more than a somber spree of the death that's now all around you.

The album's closing drizzle only magnifies the pedestrian's delirium, and you're not gonna know what I mean unless you hear it yourself. But this denouement presents an encapsulation of what II was all about. The caustic frenzy of warped humanity was the bulk of these tracks, but letting go of expectation is imperative if we're gonna move forward. Don't allow the grind and bombast to dominate your reflections; instead rely on the dull aches, the mystic fog, and the gravity of universal loss. We may not soon suffer unspeakable torment. But Eibon have the road map if we do.

Site | Facebook | Bandcamp | Youtube | Throatruiner Records | Aesthetic Death

Zac's "Double Dose": ALTARUS / Inter Arma

 

ALTARUS: As Above, So Below 

This week's Double Dose bands have a few things in common: A. They both have Latin themed names. B. Their compositions run approximately one hour in length. And finally, C. they are both loud enough to wake the sleeping dead. ALTARUS, our first shot, are a Canadian trio of metal'rs adepts in doom and what happens when its tampered with. Forming as a live band in late 2009 ALTARUS have seen many line-up changes. Since that definitive date the band has fossilized as the leviathan three-piece you hear today on debut As Above, So Below. ALTARUS channel a tectonic sized immensity through crushing doom RIFFS. The three-some don't simply stop at doom though, implementing a chuggin' sensation through their guitars and some artsy, Danny Carey, Tool-esque timing ALTARUS unleash a mountain of sound-waves sure to pulverize the measly flesh that surrounds your psyche. Need a wake up call? Spin Unleash Leviathan or check out ALTARUS's latest propaganda below, a video for Lazarus.  Don't bother making yourself comfortable though, because these monstrous waves, whether sonic or visual, are sure to leave you in spiritual turmoil.

ALTARUS - LAZARUS

Members: 

J.P. Contois - Drums 

Karol Orzechowski - Bass // Vocals 

Tyler Martin - Guitar // Vocals

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Inter Arma: Sky Burial 

Sometimes the inter-breeding of genres we so called writers use to describe the sounds of rock and metal can get a little out of control. There are bands out there mating styles so extremely diverse in the name of progress that they are losing their souls and the very soul of their creation, a.k.a. the music itself. Well, today is going to be one of those days that I, the poor excuse for a writer that I am, have to string together an endless amount of genres and descriptions to attempt to explain this not so typical archetype... except here our example have done something many musicians pursue and rarely accomplished. That example, Inter Arma have created a new sound from many old sounds, which brings the past forty to fifty years of heavy music full circle.  In the end this leaves me describing Inter Arma's sound as authentic heavy metal. So, enough of my rambling and ranting... let's get to what we came here for... the tunes!

Inter Arma is a Richmond, Virginia based five piece who with the precision, strength, and patience of an artisan stone mason have assembled together a bedrock of doom, psychedelia, and sludge with southern rock, acoustic, and black metal. As much of a mind-job and cluster that sounds as you read it Inter Arma, with a little courage and a strapping intelligence, have composed the mess fluidly and entitled it Sky Burial. Sky Burial is enormous and running over sixty minutes will definitely put a dent in your time today. So, you might as well pick up a case of your favorite brew (might I suggest the Sierra Nevada Porter). That's okay though, the alcohol will help you float along with Inter Arma's cloudy atmosphere. The progressive mentality of combining the likes of doom and sludge with black metal and finally acoustic are brought to your attention within the first fifteen minutes, which is really only two songs. Causing convulsions and an immediate back flip, I thought, "Did they just do that?" and with a psychotic grin answered myself, "Yes, yes they did!" in sheer reverence. My favorite track The Long Road Home is a lengthy psychedelic-acoustic piece that is constructed further with electric guitars lacing in and out of the brilliant percussion, all very 70's Pink Floyd feeling. The final two to three minutes become intense, where black metal characteristics dominate the sound. The drumming becomes blast beat-like taking the precedent position over the guitars and vocals, only this percussion is not like the blind chaos I tend to hear in blast beats. This is more like a functional and calculated freight train with some serious cargo. T.J. [Childers] drumming and percussion are phenomenal. Period. Throughout Sky Burial this particular instrument is the mortar that adheres the intriguing vocals, guitars, and bass together in a cohesive chemistry. Sky Burial is out now and can be streamed at bandcamp and ordered from Relapse Records.

Members: 

Joe Kerkes - Bass 

Mike Paparo - Vocals 

Steven Russell - Guitars 

T.J. Childers - Drums 

Trey Dalton - Guitars

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Zac's "Triple Dose": Cathedraal / Rings of Rhea / Schematics for Gravity

This week my little realm of the 'Planet has been bountiful and over-flowing with music. This, in turn, has allowed me to decide to not only give readers two bands to enjoy, but three. Yes, a Triple Dose. This trio of transcendence is in thanks to a three-way split including experimental bands from France, Sweden and Ukraine. So, without further ado... 

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Cathedraal 

Our first stop on this triple delight lands us in Paris, France with Cathedraal, an experimental group of musicians who thought it good to mix black metal, hardcore and post-metal psychedelia. The outcome is an atmospheric rich sound with brief bursts of beauty and an intimidating amount of noise. Want you senses overwhelmed? Give Cathedraal's Qui Pense Encore a Toi a spin. This track has an excellent guitar driven intro and tremolo pickin', setting it as gold in my book. Interestied? Its available for a steal at bandcamp.

 

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Rings of Rhea 

Rings of Rhea are our second serving of this week's three course dose! These Ukrainian natives have discovered a paradise of dysrhythmia-inducing metal. Using ample noise and choosing to bury the scathed vocals in production, the quintet have created a fine piece of progressive doom metal which I am pleased to share with you all. The elegant addition of a piano interlude combines the two separate tracks seamlessly and creates the illusion of a single track. Their lot of fifteen minutes offers a density experienced in orchestral epics and legends of old. In conclusion, Rings of Rhea bring a blissful terror that simply escapes this listener too quickly. This is a band you will want to watch for future releases. Check out both tracks Destruction and Creation below or download for free at bandcamp.

Members: 

Anton - Bass 

Dima - Guitar 

Sasha - Drums 

Vova - Vocals 

Zhenya - Guitar

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Schematics for Gravity 

It wouldn't be a trip around Heavy Planet without dropping by, what many may consider the capital metal country, Sweden. Our last course, entitled Schematics for Gravity, is a hardcore turned post-metal five-piece sighting influences such as Cloudkicker, Cult of Luna and Sigur Rós. Focusing heavily on creating a celestial experience, Schematics for Gravity emit an Alcest-vibe. The music is more alluring, and even delicate at times, rather than terrorizing. The vocals are intense and proclaimed with a dying passion, although, similar with Cathedraal above, are enshrouded in the mix adding to the overall atmosphere of the two tracks. I enjoyed the track Behind Closed Doors most. Check it out below and in the words of the Swedes, "Inhale. Enjoy. Explode."

 

Members: 

Anders Lundgren 

Chris Campbell 

Erik Silverberg - Vocals

Martin Nilsson -Guitar 

Pontus Landgren - Drums

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