Déhà - Decadanse (2022)

Decadanse is an interesting album for me to approach, for while I've heard a few of this artist's myriad projects in the past (Yhdarl, Silver Knife and Wolvennest to name but a few), he's been on a massive productivity streak with this 'solo' act...dozens of full-lengths and collaborations in just the last 4-5 years, part of which was possibly spurred on by pandemic-era isolation, but is showing no signs of slowing down even today. From what I've just briefly been able to read, the Déhà project is one that intentionally avoids pigeon-holing itself into too narrow a niche, but if I had to describe this, it's almost a horror landscape terraformed through a mixture of drone, doom, black metal, industrial and electronic ingredients, programmed drums with extreme vocals ranging from a prolonged rasp or growl to whispery nightmares or soaring mid-range harmonies.

There are but two tracks, each 22-23 minutes in length and obviously narrating a creepy, grandiose concept through musical construction that transforms from careful control to calamity, but always focused on forming oblique and harrowing imagery in the listener's mind. There are times when this is lurching along like the most stolid funeral doom, and others when it intensifies into blasting frenzy and tremolo picked note progressions. The guitars vary from rather predictable trudges and black metal melodies to more spacious, eerie anomalies that are constantly offering up a higher dimension beyond the aggressive substrate of the songwriting. His vocals are splayed out almost like paints of blood and ichor splashed on a canvas, becoming a part of the atmosphere just as often as they're a metallic, percussive focal point. And what's more, there is a tendency to lurch into some unexpected electronic/techno part which is quite fun despite sounding a little less dire and serious than the rest.

I'm not going to claim I was totally bowled over by Decadanse, I mean it delivers what is advertised and successfully transfers the feelings of gloom and fright into the mix, but occasionally it relies on some repetition, or riff patterns that are a bit predictable or repetitive. In the span of 20+ minutes, there could certainly be a few more interesting riffs or atmospheres on exhibit, I don't know if they struck often enough through this particular album's play-length as they might have on some of his others. But having said that, when I pull myself back about a mile from the details, and just appreciate the dark and monolithic atmosphere, the obvious amount of work places in the tortured vocals, and the placement of segues like the electronic parts, or the creepy acoustic break in "I Am the Dead" with the filtered vox, this is definitely an imaginative and involved work that fans of lightless, atmospheric dread will get a lot of, and I'm surely prompted to listen to more of what he's done directly under the Déhà handle.

Verdict: Win [7.5/10]

https://deha.bandcamp.com/

Pensées Nocturnes - Douce Fange (2022)

Why is it the most distinctly and/or disturbingly French black metal bands have the initials P. N.? Paris' Pensées Nocturnes might not answer that question with their seventh full-length Douce fange, but they will once again answer the calling of carnival-fresh, aurally anarchic and murderous black metal with a sax section, and they will answer that calling in an even more brazen way than on their 2019 oddity Grand Guignol Orchestra. This is a strange, STRANGE sound the group has put together, not only in how the metal content fuses with the other instruments and the almost tongue-in-cheek, mocking nature of its presentation, but in how they use a lot of bizarre, gonzo jazz elements with the brass and drumming that sound just as alien on their own cognizance.

Douce fange is a chaotic but controlled clutter of traditional black metal guitar aesthetics, wavering and haunting vocal lines that sound like a drunken street hawker, and the added confusion of all the brass that make it sound like a stinking circus stuffed down some Parisian back alley in the early 20th century. In general, the compositions are lurching, non-linear and completely inconsiderate of what arrangements your mind wishes to mold them into, but it's also consistently compelling. New tricks arrive at almost every street stall or corner, with more narrative spurts of vocals in native French, or eerier, dissonant atmospheric guitars. The bass playing has a fantastic, fat sound to it which rumbles around the shifting tides of the riffs, and the drummer sounds like he stepped in for a Miles Davis album and got a bunch of metal freaks instead, but then rises to the challenge. There are some truly intense and ridiculous passages like in "PN mais Costaud!" where the double bass starts going crazy and there's this whole array of wild screaming and growls along with the confusing but somehow structured guitar patterns, all to disappear into some softer tremolo picked lines, samples and horns, and it's that manic few measures that really sum up the album.

You've got to steel yourself for Douce fange, but its rewarding for its fearsome and lollygagging contrasts, and its not like the band just stumbled upon this, because the previous album was sort of a trial run for this mutation in the band's career. The production is very well balanced despite the almost sweltering randomness of how the tunes are laid out, and even the packaging lives up to the music with its collages of weird billets and advertisements for oddities and social unrest. Trust me, this is a CD booklet unlike any other you'll see this year, and it's quite impressive. I'm sure there's quite a lot to the concepts here I'm not fully understanding, even my wife who speaks French and lived there for a year was a little baffled. The schizophrenic and freeform nature of this music is one of a kind, and I find I keep picking out more details with each listen. It's like Shining and Mr. Bungle jamming while they all twirl a bunch of moustaches. Looney bin brilliance.

Verdict: Win [8.25/10]

https://penseesnocturnes.bandcamp.com/

Virus - Memento Collider (2016)

Memento Collider hits you up front with the most mystique of all the Virus albums, the jazzy, walking bass lines of "Afield" served up with eerie guitar strums and those almost preachy-sounding spoken word narratives that the band had really mastered on the previous disc, The Agent That Shapes the Desert. To a group already so experimental, this already felt even further along the axis of weirdness, with just the right amount of progression and spin on the band's thick, low-end driven formula that it feels like a distinct step. There are also pieces, like this one, which seem almost as if they were largely improvisational, especially with all those breaks in its belly, which don't seem super polished but really pay off when the group erupts back into the jangling upper strings and beats.

Elsewhere, it does feel a little more practices and coherent, like "Rogue Fossil", one of my favorite Virus tracks in general for that amazing, bouncing blend of bass and guitars, almost like a Fugazi exponentially evolved into something more mesmerizing, melancholy in motion. The hues this band casts here are almost all shades of grey like the cover itself, and the material sounds like a mind starting to unravel in some corporate clean-space, stimulating itself with disjointed grooves. Those odd Voivod-like chords, with the saturation removed, clash into the more dextrous little fills and trills perfectly, and there are occasionally these walls of odd, vibrant chords which almost remind me of late 80s Sonic Youth and all their unusual tunings. Though the band will swap between tempos and riffing structures, I would actually say that a lot of the material is very consistent together, this is not a highly diverse album in of itself, but within even this little niche they find ample territory to explore that the full 45 minute experience never once bores me, and only tires me out due to the exhilaration and helplessness that comes with the realization I could never think up something this goddamn cool.

The one exception might be the closer "Phantom Oil Slick", because here is a track where for me the guitars came across just as level and powerful as those bass lines, with neither suffering. But even that, with the similar vocals gels so well with the material leading up to it, though I wasn't entirely sucked into the slower, broken ambient segue in the bridge, at least not until the bass finally takes over as the dominant instrument with the sparser chords splayed out above it. The title is too fitting though since this part of the song makes you think you're out on some foggy sea, drifting in a rowboat and perhaps running afoul of said oil slick. At any rate, listening to these Virus albums now for review is kind of making me sad that I won't get another one. Ved Buens Ende will be close enough, but interesting genius like this is all too rare, and even if I love this album a fraction less than Agent, it's still another one that will remain timeless escapism for when I need to exit the monotonies of my existence, or find new things hiding in the shadows in the corner of that reality. Inspired.

Verdict: Epic Win [9.25/10]

http://virusnorway.com/

Virus - Oblivion Clock EP (2012)

At 30 minutes duration, Oblivion Clock is fairly substantial for an EP, it's also a treat because it gathers not only a quartet of new tracks hot off the exhaust of their masterful 2011 album The Agent That Shapes the Desert, but also has a few added tracks that were only available through the double-vinyl release of that record, one of which is a cover tune, as well as an unreleased song from back on the Carheart recordings. What's more, the material here is almost all album quality, tracks that would have been just as worthwhile had they been released with Agent or Memento Collider. There are a couple exceptions, where the band experiments a little further out to left field than normal, but at least four of the seven tracks are superb...

And in most of those cases, they're tunes that drudge along a little slower, but with the familiar, groovy bass lines, and a little more of a wall of discord to the guitars. New tricks are keyboards are implemented to great effect, almost choir-like in their swells, and as is normal for Virus, the combination of those intricate, flowing bass parts, morose almost spoken-world vocals and eerie guitars is unnerving and unforgettable. "Inverted Escape" moves along at a pretty quick pace, but it's so dense with ideas in the guitar lines and grooves that it demands repeated listened to really ingest it all. "The Pull of the Crater" is really creepy with those warped, almost orchestrated effects creeping along to the jangling rhythm guitar and wailing ambiance, possibly my fave through the EP. The other tune I dig (from the Agent double-vinyl) is "Saturday Night Virus", a pumping, playful tune that stays true to its title with a disco-like momentum dowsed in all the Norwegians' strangeness...this one could be like some trippy answer to Primus or Mr. Bungle, but despite its upbeat perkiness it's just as compelling as the more serious fare.

The one that didn't quite succeed for me would be "Gaslight Exit", sort of droning, raw, guitar track, the most experimental anywhere here, but while the bevy of daunting tones is itself interesting, they don't do much of note with it until the end when it begins to resemble Virus proper. The cover of the Walker Bros' "Shutout" is kind of fun, like Virus getting all bluesy and proggy in a dimly-lit, smoky dive bar in the wee hours of the morning to an appreciative but half-drunk audience. One wonders what these guys could have come up with if they dug through a broader array of covers and gave them the same sort of treatment, bending them ever so slightly into their own sound palette. Oblivion Clock might not have been meaty on its own enough to fill the 4-year gap before Memento Collider would arrive, and its not completely consistent, but paired up with Agent it was more than enough to believe that they still had some distance in them, and its highly recommendable to anyone who dug the full-length albums leading up to it.

Verdict: Win [7.75/10]

http://virusnorway.com/

Virus - Carheart (2003)

I first encountered this album in early 2004 after finding it in a stack in the basement jam room of a drummer i was playing with, and had no idea what it was, thinking that it looked like some sort of alternative rock or post-hardcore record. When inquiring about it, he told me it was the new project of Ved Buens Ende, who I had already been exposed to, and thus I was intrigued enough to take it home, check it out, and then never really look back. The band's unusual stylistic interpretation of groovy, maudlin post-metal was one of a kind, aesthetically informed by everything from jazz to noise rock to a heavy smattering of Voivod in the bass, guitar and vocal departments, and being that that was one of if not my fave band in the world at that time, I was delighted to hear something new take any kind of related approach...

Carheart is the record I've had the most time to gel with, and fascinatingly, while there have been small evolutions in the band's sound over the four albums and two EPs, it's surprising how early they sort of found their niche and rarely ever wandered away from it. Not that I'm complaining, because this was such an unusual concoction in the first place, and the song quality itself would improve for their last two full-lengths, but they could put together a playlist or live set of anything in their output and it would flow pretty smoothly together. Thick, barreling bass grooves serve as alchemic constant, from which just about everything else flows, unless they're taking a pause to let the guitars' jangly, hazy dissonant note patterns. The drums are very rock & jazz oriented, a nice construct in which to settle the endless curving low end note patterns and their haunted, unnerving upper strings, and they will occasionally cycle in some additional percussion to clap and snap along. To top that all off, you have Czral switching between two vocal patterns, one very haughty sounding and the other more drugged, monotonous and subliminal, which creates this dope-addled atmosphere which sounds like you're hearing this in a dazed state after having your tonsils removed.

Within that range, I will say there's a good degree of versatility. Maybe not as much as something like a Primus album, but some tunes will go a little more moody and eerie, like "Road", letting the guitar and it's drizzly, slightly-twanged out tone take the fore. Others like "Gum, Meet, Mother", go for a more technical and proficient pacing which is sure to keep you glued to its subtleties as that almost numbing, fat bass tone collides with all the little distorted intricacies. In fact, Carheart is arguably the Norwegians' most varied effort just in terms of its rhythm and weird vocals, even lapsing for a pure ambient piece like "Dogs With Wheels" to break up the successions of vertigo-inducing rhythm. Once upon a time, I considered this my least favorite of their output, but I think through the years it has grown on me as one of the more monumental progressions of a formerly black metal or black metal adjacent act from this scene, and nowadays I like it more than the sophomore, The Black Flux, although that's also quite good. I would easily recommend this stuff to fans of Solefald, Ihsahn, Dodheimsgard, Ulver, Arcturus and the like, just as much as I'd offer it to a fan of Voivod or their fellow Canadians NoMeansNo. Exceptional, creative, deconstructive, timeless music seeped in evocative lyrical minimalism.

Verdict: Win [8.5/10] (As we whip ourselves to sleep)

http://virusnorway.com/

Virus - Investigator EP (2017)

I was somewhat disappointed when Virus announced they were going to break up in 2018, and when I heard the year after that their alma mater Ved Buens Ende was reforming, I continued to be bummed out. While I do enjoy that older band, I felt that Virus took some of the same sonic concepts and further extrapolated them into more interesting material, groovy and dissonant, progressive melancholia that was honestly one of the best examples I can think of when you throw out the idea of 'modern' metal. It's not that the band had no precedent, there's a healthy heaping of Voivod's guitar style in the mix, as well as in the groovy, driving bass lines, but they had this really introspective, almost laid back, urban vibe to them that was truly refreshing. In the end, they did give us four great full-length records, and I'm excited enough to hear what future Ved Buens Ende recordings might sound like, so it's hardly the apocalypse.

Their final recording as Virus was this two-track EP which felt like a marginally more roughly produced extension of Memento Collider. "Investigator" itself was one of their bassiest tunes yet, with loads of thick lines cruising along as the primary instrument while the drums splashed along in the background, fused with cleaner-toned guitar tones that create that ever-weird atmosphere the band is so well regarded for. Czral's vocals continue in that monotonous, wastoid timbre but take a clear back seat to the instrumentation. "The Blue Flags of the Dead" is a slower paced track, where the guitars stand out a little more but the bass is just as thick. There are a few organs and harps in there which mesh rather well with the atmosphere, and I loved the churny, choppy bass lines playing out under the vocal passages near the center of the track. Both tunes are pretty good, if not the best stuff the band had released. They certainly in a way felt just as complex, if not more complex than the material on Memento Collider and Oblivion Clock.

I've only heard this digitally, and assume the 7" is quite hard to find, and so as a swan song it's kind of underwhelming, and I've heard almost nobody ever talking about it. However, if you enjoyed their run from Agents through Memento Collider then it doesn't hurt to have a little more of the same, and these tunes are at least close to worthy of that magnificent output.

Verdict: Win [7.5/10]

 http://virusnorway.com/

Pensées Nocturnes - Grand Guignol Orchestra (2019)

Frenchmen Pensées Nocturnes have long been thinking beyond the bounds of traditional black metal, but their latest, 6th album Grand Guignol Orchestra trades in a bit of the Romantic flourish of prior efforts for a more intense, abrasive experience which certainly rises up to the packaging displayed before you. Yes, this is essentially a circus-like black metal record, digging up a middle ground between Peste Noire and Mr. Bungle, and every bit as disturbing as that idea implies. The freakish cover clowns and the excellent graphic design put together between the band and Les Acteurs de L'ombre is an excellent vehicle for the themes explored, and I feel as if the album is far more committed to this warped, canvased sound than prior effort like Arcturus' Las Masquerade Infernale.

Now, to be clear, this is not an album I heavily enjoyed, but rather one I appreciated for its aesthetic aspirations. This is truly calamitous, unapologetic black metal that has been thoroughly kneaded with horns and other instrumentation that casts a mid-20th century, back alley carnival shadow...a place that would allure you with its glowing lights and euphoric festivities, but not one you'd want to bring your kids to for fear they would be devoured by its attractions. Trumpets, bass lines, organs, various levels of distorted guitars, tuba tones, all manner of whirring and whizzing percussion and a vocal range that is cast through morbid rasps and howls, and cleaner, boisterous tones much like a circus caller or a ringleader attempting to stir up his audience. There is so much flying at you through these tracks that they can become a whirling labyrinth of confusion, a magic mirror-house of torture. And it takes a particular level of skill to arrange all this, to be able to successfully supplant the traditional instrumentation of this metal niche so evenly with the other instruments, above a constant rhythmic battery that is very impressive with the strutting, grooving bass guitars and drum kit.

No, there is no lack of effort herein, and in general I very much dug the carnival parts like the thumping segues in "Comptine à boire" or the frightening freakshow nostalgia evinced through the opening crawl of "Triste sade", but when it comes to the metal content, it almost loses itself to the rest of the experience. Which is sort of the point, I'll grant you, but it wouldn't have hurt to have a few really catchy guitar lines vomited forth that could compete with the great horns and the unwavering, schizophrenic vocal performance. Occasionally the album becomes just too calamitous and 'extreme', like a Naked City record on a post-black, spazzcore bender, and while the intensity is cool, I wish the music itself stuck to the memory a little more. However, Grand Guignol Orchestra is such a damn cool, visionary sort of album, so conceptually successful that I'd be remiss not to recommend it highly to those seeking something on the outside, a bevy of childhood nightmares given flesh through an abusive, murderous adult musical palette. Something wicked this way fucking comes, with a painted smile and a bloody, spiked bludgeon. A ticket could be your last.

Verdict: Win [7.5/10]

https://www.facebook.com/PNRecords/

Selcouth - Heart is the Star of Chaos (2017)

There are few real instances of originality left in metal music, to the extent that even when you hear that band that sounds 'original', you can attribute that to an unconscious smattering of influences from half a dozen other weirdo bands that you knew from a decade ago. To a degree, I could say that about Finland's Selcouth, the eclectic construct of several members of another band called Khanus (who put out a pretty nifty EP last year called Rites of Fire, which I have also reviewed on these pages). Sure, if you're familiar with the Norse post-black metal/progressive outlets like Arcturus, Virus, Ulver, and especially Solefald, there will be a few aesthetics carried forward, and yet even beyond that I would say there is plenty about Heart is the Star of Chaos that feels strikingly unique within the envelope of bizarro left-of-center metal hybridization into which this debut will be signed, sealed and delivered.

Imagine if you will a bevy of grooving bass lines, distorted or smooth, jazzy lounge-lizard pianos and nuances, carefully threaded and mute-picked electric guitars, and a percussionist who can seamlessly cultivate all these various strains into a cohesive, tribal, rhythmic whole. Now atop this sundae of sonic eccentricity, place a vocalist who is both burly and fragile, clear and crackling, expressive and emotive and oftentimes hypnotic, like an unconscious amalgamation of Czral and David Bowie, but don't stop there...harmonize him with all manner of breathy intonations, add in an equally intriguing female singer who has a nice, modern acid jazzy nightclub vibe about her but can curve all that into a snarl when the talons come out, slightly reminiscent of Monika from the underrated Atrox. Mix the results so that no two songs quite sound alike, but all of them weave together like dyes onto a lucid canvas upon which dreamy, haze-like states are being translated directly from musical brain patterns into actual, audible sounds. I know of no real other way to accurately describe this Selcouth record, it's essentially an reverse explosion of shattered fragments back into an introspective mirror, a chaos made congenial by its weavers' ability to reign it all into a drugged warmth.

It's bloody fucking awesome...

and it's all about the details haunting almost every moment of the recording. Those frenetic little guitar licks driving the 'verses' of "Querencia", or the pluggy, bemused but strangely threatening bass-lines crawling and scaling along beneath the lush keys and strings "Of Hopes and Lost Treasures". Or even when the band lets its 'extreme metal' (ooooo) roots through in "Below Hope" and then STILL manages to weird them out to oblivion and back. I can't say that every single lick or vocal line is equally poignant or impressive, but considering what a wide span of influences they bring forth, from the old and cheesy operatic Gothic auras to the nuanced, almost improvisational jazz beats and textures, this debut is nothing less than a monster of creativity, a Frankenstein of mind-fucking experiments in rock, rampaging across its cosmos, yet never so out-of-control that the mad scientists which created it lose their leash on the lightning that gave it life. Certifiable, and certifiably cool at the same time.

Verdict: Epic Win [9.25/10]

https://www.facebook.com/selcouthconglomerate/

Haiku Funeral - Nightmare Painting (2012)

If you thought Haiku Funeral's name was curious, then wait until you hear the music these Frenchmen evoke from all manner of nightmares. A hybrid of Gothic, industrial and soundtrack elements pulled from a vast number of freakish sources, they create music that would be the perfect fit for some cult, B-movie classic of horror or cyberpunk, only with the caveat that there's an added sheen of complexity without the visual aids present. There's also a metal ingredient here, with the harsh and visceral vocals that often transform into asylum howls, but oftentimes the actual structure of the music is rooted in a progressive pop leaning that best suits its ability to disperse creepy curve balls in the listener's direction. In short, it's not easy to categorize: listen at your own risk, and without any preconceptions, and you might come away having a good, ghoulish time.

Tonally, the songs traverse quite a large spectrum of sounds even within the constraints of a 3-4 minute time frame. For instance, "Blacklight Amniotic Erotica" opens with thuggish, fat and I daresay 'funky' bass-lines over a distorted, driving mid-pace beat, while the vocals take on a brute, conversational quality, and then later it transforms into creeping ambiance and hideous rasping over ghostly, dissonant guitars. "Raining Nightbirds" is a surreal nightscape of electronic sounds that phase into and out of being like the backdrop of some eternally overcast cybernetic city, a distant beat substantiating its abstract momentum. "Your Heart a Black Tunnel" is like what you might expect if Abruptum was to remix a Massive Attack tune, and the vignette "Death Poem" is pretty much pure dark ambiance that wouldn't be out of place for Atrium Carceri. The connecting ligaments to all these pieces come through the vocal inflections which only range to about 3-4 styles maximum, and the associated darkness each of them shares. Some beats and synthesizers will often bear similarities with others, but there's really a plethora of subcultural electronic styles being flushed into this strangely cohesive, progressive matrix and capped with that darker hint of metallurgy.

One thing the album is not is grating, at all. You're not going to experience too many blinding floods of noise or angst. The compositions are fluid, and despite the eccentricity on parade, they're all pretty structured. I thought at times that the poetic, crank world view and atmosphere reminded me of the industrial legends Skinny Puppy, or the eclectic attitude reminiscent of fellow French act Pin-Up Went Down. Some of the swarthier, trip-hop-like passages reeked of Arcturus' The Sham Mirrors. But that's only the tip of the iceberg, and no such comparison can fully define Haiku Funeral's intentions. This record is really like a massive, electrode-tweaked finger painting by some child building its own reality from fragments of horror and outsider musical influence. I won't claim that all of the songs are catchy, or that the band doesn't have a distance to travel in perfecting this uncanny bastardization of forms, but I will state that there was rarely a minute among the 43 of Nightmare Painting that I wasn't, at the very least, interested (if not compelled).

Verdict: Win [7.5/10]

http://www.haikufuneral.com/

Stagnant Waters - Stagnant Waters (2012)

Franco-Norse collaboration Stagnant Waters have chosen what is perhaps one of the more ironic band names I've encountered of late, for if there's anything this debut album isn't, it's in any way involved in the process of 'stagnation'. Granted, there are precedents to the sort of manic mesh of black metal and industrial aesthetics that dominate this unhinged lunatic asylum sound. Names like Dødheimsgard, Aborym, Thorns and the latest works of Abigor come immediately to mind, but Stagnant Waters do not necessarily treat their mutated sound in quite the same way: there's less of a sense of 'control' or construction here as a sense of chaos flooding the listeners' perceptions to the point where it might damn well drive you mad, or madder as the case may be.

Take, for instance, the first track here "Algae" which presents a barrage of noisy, dissonant and strangely melodic black metal over caustic blasts and then, within the first minute, manages to devolve into a void of faint chiming percussion and rushes of distorted glitch, then back again, and then picking up into this monstrous, mechanized beat somewhere between Ministry and Meat Beat Manifesto, drowned in an unfeeling, robotic vocal glaze. This sort of juxtaposition of unsettling calms and all-out, brazen assaults upon the senses continues through the remainder of the 46 minutes, and though it can often grate on the nerves due to its lack of supporting structure, I promise you that it's never boring. In fact, some of the record's most interesting moments come deeper into the track list like the disheveled, magnificent 10 minute epic "Axolotl" or the pummeling nightmare finale "From the Breaking Neck to Infinity", a shattered vision of dysfunctional electronic glamor and sanity-stabbing mayhem.

But be warned! Even at its warmest ("Castles"), there is nothing inviting or accessible here for the saner audience. The tracking of the splotchy, acidic guitars and the drum beats are quite raw in presentation, and the vocals a splice of incendiary blackened rasping and hoarser shouts courtesy of Svein Egil Hatlevik (Fleurety), no stranger to the uncanny blend of aural fragments on exhibition here. The palate of noisy, glitched synthesizer elements runs from primordial 90s industrial circa Skinny Puppy to a more chiptune feature-set, and about half the metal chord blitzes on the album feel like you're flossing with a spiked chain. There are even what sound like blaring, noisy woodwind instruments here ("Concrete") that enhance the sense that, no matter what, Stagnant Waters is fucking with you. Ultimately, how well you'll be able to process their incessant tirade of aggravations will go a long way to your appreciation of this eponymous debut. If you can imagine and salivate over a hybrid of Thorns and John Zorn's Naked City, you'll want to sink your teeth into this until your gums are bloodied.

Verdict: Win [7.5/10]

http://www.facebook.com/eauxstagnantes

Iblis - Menthell (2012)

Possessing one of the most unique styles I've encountered of late, Poland's Iblis come across like a demented cabal of asylum escapees in dire need of their medication. And I mean that only as a compliment, because the band's self-proclaimed 'Nuklear Rock'n'Roll' is an exercise in charismatic, schizophrenic vocals applied to blast beats, dense progressive black metal chugging flurries and rich, flowing bass lines which tie it all into this morass of semi-technical, expansive neurosis. Simultaneously cerebral, humorous and tortured, everything from the band's surrealistic cover artwork to their incredible logo to their frenzied musical mish-mash is deserving of attention well beyond the underground of their homeland.

To describe these vocals is no easy task, but if one combined the Gothic pinch of Into the Pandemonium era Tomas G. Warrior, the wavering forte and unnerving timbre of Jari 'Big Boss' (Root), and a pantheon of more conventional black metal snarlers, then you might begin to understand the acrobatic tongue of front man Zgred. He's all over this record, escalating into sheer insanity as he frolics through a track like "Don't Eat My Legs" (that's actually the song title) where he transforms from a gruff, blunt manliness into this totally fucked narrative of chaos in the bridge, counterpointing himself as if he were some quartet of male and female psychopaths.  But his prowess is not the only innovative stamp on this record: the bass of 'Traktor' is insanely accomplished, bridging the gaps between metal, jazz, funk and progressive rock. The guitarist Borsuk flexes between dense, hyperactive black/thrash passages in the Norse tradition and ringing, spacious post-metal elements, and the drummer Szafot holds it all down, effortless pacing between blast beats and uncanny rock grooves.

I wouldn't define Iblis as 'avant-garde' as something like Arcturus, in which the metallic component has been almost entirely replaced by versatile genre hopping madness. Menthell certainly maintains an aggressive core, using the elements and funky exploitation of the bass lines as its primary vehicles towards eclectic variety. But the weird, almost conversational tone of the vocals in songs like "12 Sycamores" instantly creates an alien atmosphere to the proceedings, almost as if there were no vocals and your own brain were creating an internal, tormented monologue to accompany the rampant athletics of the music. Even the wacky whistling and ghostly tones in "Poison In Your Food". Not all the individual riffs stick to the conscience, but there are enough flying in your direction that you can listen through a number of times and remain engaged.

On my own first sit-through, I had feared that the actual eccentricity of the vocals in combination with the riffs was meant more as something shallow and silly to stand out, but repeated exposure proved this is not the case. There is a practiced rhythmic sensibility to everything going on here, as if someone were setting a metronome for a descent into the chaos of the subconscious, and as such "Menthell" is only too apt a title. I would certainly recommend this to fans of outsider extremity, but just understand that it comes with a certain subtext of dark, comic angst that flavors its agonizing depths. 

Verdict: Win [8/10]

http://www.facebook.com/iblispl

Sigh - In Somniphobia (2012)

Sigh's 2010 effort Scenes From Hell seemed to arrive to a generally positive response, and I personally admired it for its primal gravitas. Gone were the bombastic, sweeping symphonic overtures of its own predecessor, Hangman's Hymn, and the newer songs were distinctly murderous and obscure, Eliran Kantor's surreal and psychotic cover art a perfect match for their aural aesthetics. With In Somniphobia, Japan's black thrashing eccentrics once again allow us to feast our eyes on one of the more visually stimulating album we're likely to experience this year, but musically I would say that it was somewhat of a throwback to the mesh of black, thrash, trad heavy metal and wild, eclectic outside influences that were so prominent during their 1997-2001 period on albums like Scenario IV: Dread Dreams and Imaginary Sonicscape, which just happen to be my favorites...

In Somniphobia resembles Scenes of Hell in that the production of the guitars and drums are not overly polished or as 'in your face' as you'll hear in a lot of modern extremes, but I'd say the actual composure of the riffs is cleaner and more accessible. There's a bit of the charging, 2007 symphonic era present in the structure of songs like "Purgatorium" or the bridge of "The Transfiguration Fear", but instead of an orchestra they are carried out with proggy organ pads and the fetching 70s hard rocking leads that were so prominent on an album like Hail Horror Hail from 15 years ago. The vocals are the same, abusively rasped incarnation that Mirai has been implementing for ages, but Dr. Mikannibal contributes her graceful accompaniments in carefully selected places through the course of the album, and certain guest features are present like death metal cult maven Kam Lee of Floridian forefathers Death and Massacre. In truth, though, while I found the vocals overall to comply with the band's modus operandi, they were not the stars of the show here...

No, that honor is bestowed to the many instances of avant-garde escapism strewn through the tracks, creating at once an exotic and familiar variety show, a circle of the sinister, silly and the gloomily macabre. From narrated, eerie orchestral interludes that descend into glitchy computer noises ("Opening Theme: Ludic Nightmare") to cutesy Eastern ethnic/ambient passages (the intro to the titular "Somniphobia") to the plucking of clean, jazzy Spanish guitars and ballpark organs ("Equale") to the scarce but effective use of Mikannibal's saxophone, you are greeted with must be one of the more worldly, scatterbrained exercises in Sigh's history. At times I felt some reminiscence for Hollenthon's debut Domvs Mvndi, at other times it felt like it was a natural successor to Imaginary Sonicscape, but what's so striking about the level of variation on this album is how it never manages to interrupt the natural flow of the song structures or the serial killer din of the black/thrash/doom riffing, vocals and lyrics.

Sigh excel at the grotesque, the weird, the left of center, while miraculously avoiding that 'forced' multi-genre-culturism pitfall that even a taut and talented act like Mr. Bungle would often succumb to. In Somniphobia is like trying to watch some colorful cult, foreign horror film while having three roommates simulcast 80s thrash, hairy progressive rock and cheesy world music on their respective stereos. It all congeals into this expansive, vicious and melodic broth of ear candy that is easily one of the more unique trips you'll be taking in this or any other season. Wonderful, batshit loco music. While I can't say I found myself quite so glued to the songs as I was on past works like Scenario IV: Dread Dreams, Hail Horror Hail, Imaginary Sonicscape or even its direct predecessor, it's an admirable addition to the band's legacy and sure to appear on or even top many year's end lists, and undoubtedly deserves to be there. Pure escapism 1 0 fucking 1.

Verdict: Win [8.75/10]

http://www.facebook.com/pages/SIGH-official-page/227550909275

Celtic Frost - Into the Pandemonium (1987)

Into the Pandemonium is not my favorite Celtic Frost production, but it's by far their most eclectic and creative, as evidenced by the wide array of styles implemented through its course. It's not at all dismissive of the slight intervals of evolution which led to its being, but if we were to compare any two of the Swiss legends' releases side to side, it would represent the largest solitary gulf. I realize there are those who would argue that its glam infested successor, Cold Lake was their biggest deviation, but I've never thought of that as more or less than a foundation of traditional Frost grooves and riffs drowned in an unfortunate, limp wristed whining and and unwelcome change in the band's image. Into the Pandemonium, on the other hand, feels as if the trio had gone on some worldwide vacation for two years, smoked from a variety of pipes and hookahs over numerous continents, and then returned by elephant back to their native Zurich.

This was a brave album, born almost entirely of exotic, worldly compulsion and a clear desire to bend the boundaries of possibility for not only Celtic Frost alone, but the entire metal genre. There were a lot of other bands evolving and enriching their sound at this time in both the US and Europe, but where an act like Running Wild, King Diamond or Savatage was centered on shaping and refining itself in the familiar environs of its earlier albums, the Swiss trio were reaching for the stars, consuming entire outside genres of music and then forging them into an impressive armor of eccentricity. To that effect, I can certainly understand the hesitation or outright resistance some felt towards the idiosyncratic gravity of Into the Pandemonium, but it's not one I can in any good conscience share. Growth and innovation are not mandatory traits in my enjoyment of a metal recording, but if I were to ply through a database of all time favorites it would prove a component of the vast majority. Music (and by extension, much of reality) is a kinetic voice. Not static. One can expand with its near endless variations, or contract from it and seek shelter beneath its prehistoric statuary. Celtic Frost chose the former, and so did I.

Of course, one of the beauties of this record is that they've done so without abandoning the backbone of their earlier works. Much of Into the Pandemonium is still comprised of the signature, sludgy thrashing rhythms they are known for circa Morbid Tales, only polished up a bit to match the hazy mystique of their neighbors. "Inner Sanctum", one of the most substantial 5+ minute tracks on the album is cast in the same vein as much of To Mega Therion, hook after hook of primal, pummeling goodness with Tom's traditional, constipated vocal barking. There is some slight increase of complexity from, say, a "Jewel Throne" in the sheer variety of riffs and the drumming, but it's not likely to offend expectations for further, mosh ready fare. "Babylon Fell" would have fit in perfectly with the prior album, it's huge and unforgettable palm muted grooves some of the heaviest in the Frost lexicon. Even the symphonic ingredients are not necessarily news. The beautiful "Oriental Masquerade" has a similar texture to the "Innocence and Wrath" intro, with horns, timpanis and sluggish riffing redolent of a Japanese giant monster movie from decades past...only the violins are truly top shelf here.

As much as I enjoy such songs, however, I can't help but drift towards the more extrinsic pieces that mottle the playlist. "Tristesses de la Lune" is perhaps the most ambitious track they've ever summoned forth, a sweeping and gorgeous string orchestration with a beautiful female guest spot in French, worthy of some of the better European composers of past centuries. The lyrics are eloquent, and the imagery evoked through the performance is like something you'd probably rent a suit for to witness at an opera hall. The Anglicized metallic version "Sorrows of the Moon", available on most of the CD releases, is less appealing, perhaps, but there's no doubt it was easier to pull off live and justifies inclusion. "I Won't Dance (The Elders Orient)" is another total standout here, a leaden rocker upon which Tom asserts a cleaner, passionate Gothic tone to his verses, returning to his usual barking temperament for the pre-chorus and chorus on which he's backed up by a 'soul' style female voice. Motown meets metallic, Mesopotamian antiquity.

I would also point out "Mesmerized", which has a similar Warrior vocal treatment and a glint of lush acoustics threaded through the verse, and a somber melodic passage through the bridge that inspire at least two dozen Paradise Lost tunes. Or "Rex Irae (Requiem)" which is this exquisite, 6 minute Gothic doom operetta with more of Mark's beloved timpani strikes and yet another lovely intrusion of strings. The vocal interplay between Tom and the female opera strain is impressive, especially where he's backed up by a blaring horn note, but there's also a more intricate, percussive thrashing in there with some driving, double bass kicks and a sequence of narrative exchange which is stunningly effective. With ease one of the most intricate tunes in all of the band's litany, passing beyond the realm of mere music to that of sensory experience as the listener's imagination drifts through ancient empires, passions and ritual incense. I DARE one of this album's detractors to create something so immortal and compelling.

But then, of course, the Swiss go even further out on a limb here, with the inclusion of the proto industrial track "One in Their Pride". This is not the greatest cut on the album, In fact it's one of the few exceptions to its near flawless musical interior, but nonetheless it was a fascinating departure for the band, a paean to the first man on the moon (Neil Armstrong) and a testament to human achievement. Musically, though, it's completely different for Celtic Frost. Primitive electro kicks reminiscent of some missing link between Kraftwerk and early Ministry (or Nitzer Ebb). Wailing, atonal strings and myriad speech samples abound in its swirling vacuum, to the point that it seems to conjure the image of some satellite spinning off beyond the earth's atmospheric envelope. Even stranger, perhaps, was the decision to open the album with a cover of the Wall of Voodoo's "Mexican Radio". Don't get me wrong, the LA New Wavers' hit is in good hands here, just given the Frost 'treatment' with heavier guitars and angrier, gruff vocals in between the backing shouts of the chorus, but, really...who woulda thunk it?

Into the Pandemonium trumps expectations at nearly every turn, but its decisions never feel rash or impulsive, no matter how unusual. Once again, as upon To Mega Therion, I felt that Warrior was trying to train his audience in the act of a wider, aesthetic appreciation. Take a few minutes to cross-reference the lyrics here with almost anything else in the metal spectrum in the mid 80s and you'll discover just how poetic and eloquent they are, how out of place amidst the usual volley of machine gun testosterone. These aren't mere hymns to nuclear war and TV Evangelists, but deeper reflections upon mortality, nature and the fate of archaic civilizations. Of course, as in "Babylon Fell", these are easy enough to relate to current events, but the prose is so simple and classy that it feels as fresh today as on its original release. What's more, the partial use of the "Hell" scene from Hieronymus Boschs's early 16th century triptych The Garden of Earthly Lights is perfect, its colors, structures and figures so immaculately in sync with the atmosphere of the songs that you wonder if they were written while staring at it...

All of these ingredients add up to what I'd dub the last of the 'essential Frost' recordings. Not that later albums like Vanity/Nemesis or Monotheist lack their charms, but they're nowhere near as imaginative and ageless as most of this content. "One In Their Pride" doesn't hold up for me in terms of quality so much as an example of experimentation gone awry, and the cover of "Mexican Radio" is naturally not so intriguing as the originals, but otherwise this album should be remembered as nothing less than an anomaly. A phenomenon whose alluring lyrical imagery, intricate variation and balanced production ensure that it survives as one of the finest examples of the avant-garde to arrive in heavy rock since the proggish embellishments of the 70s. Mood and inspiration, songwriting and distinction. This lacks none of it. Feast your ears.

Verdict: Epic Win [9.5/10] (may they live in ecstasy)

http://www.celticfrost.com/

Nucleus Torn - Golden Age (2011)

Nucleus Torn is a Swiss project only loosely connected within the metal sphere, having had some crossover appeal in the past. Their relationship with Prophecy Productions out of German ensures that they still see a bit of runoff attention to and from that scene, and deservedly so, because their ability to hybridize dusky, folksy acoustic rock with hints of progressive and the occasional, jarring fit of heaviness is certainly congruent to the introspection found in a lot of the rustic folk and avant-garde metal stretching back to the names of Ulver, This Mortal Coil, In the Woods and so forth. What germinates here on their fourth full-length, Golden Age might well be described as a mix of the later art rock of The Gathering and Northwestern US crooners The Decemberists, but it can trace its lineage all the way back to those tranquil, psychedelic sounds of the 60s and 70s.

Be warned that Golden Age is an album of intense calm, which puts it in dire straits with the rest of the content you'd expect yours truly to cover in these pages. As usual for Nucleus Torn, the compositions are crafted by Fredy Schnyder, who in addition to writing the lyrics, music, mixing and production duties also performs a wide variety of instruments including but not limited to the guitars, bagpipes, dulcimer and mandolin; and then carried out by a core group of musicians and guests that serve as natural extensions to his vision. The male and female voices here drift seamlessly from sultry coffeehouse tones ("Hunger") to sweltering sing-a-longs reminiscent of Anneke's performance on an album like How to Measure a Planet? ("Against"). Lots of simple, efficient drum grooves, flutes and all manner of strings frolic in cohesion to the emotional sway of the central lyrical melodies, but the band can just as easily swerve into blistering, wah wah guitar psychedelia (the bridge of "Against") or even a rumbling ambient breakdown ("Ash").

In a few spots, like the 12 minute closer "Death Triumphant", the proggy metallic guitars erupt in full force to take on a prevalent role, but these are the exception on Golden Age, and that one particular song is perhaps the only consistent example. Still, the fact that the band is so seamless in its exploration speaks volumes of their ability to work as a unit. Sure, Schnyder handles the heaviest load of responsibility, but I can just picture in my mind's eye what it would like to be chilling out with an espresso in some cafe somewhere in the alps when this band decides to erupt into some lilting, aggressive passage and I have to say the contrast is appealing. Granted, a few of the songs here are rather bloated at the 12 minute mark, but unlike the Swedish icons Opeth, they never seem to be just killing time or bouncing you back between poles.

There seems to be a natural procession to how the tracks develop, each reaching a climax somewhere before drifting back outwards to a creative oblivion. In particular though, I think it must be the acoustic guitars and vocal performances of Anna Murphy (Eluveitie) and Christian Kolf (Woburn House, Island) that really shine. Ponderous, melodic and yet fully capable of raising the roof off, these two feel like ghostly acquaintances gently fording a stream of life, exchanging bedtime lullabies and revelations to one another while the waters carry them through cycles of loss and rebirth. It's not perfect, and there are moments of lull where the music is not incredibly catchy, but it's highly effective at what it sets out to be. Alas, if you're not into material with predominantly clean guitars and vocals that would be more suited to a John Denver album than Blackwater Park, this might not be your thing.

Verdict: Win [7.5/10]

http://www.nucleustorn.ch/

Slagmaur - Von Rov Shelter (2009)

In addition to the genesis of modern black metal as we know it, Norway has long produced a series of peripheral artists who have journeyed alongside the same crowd, but created extremely different styles that occasionally cross over into the familiar. Ulver and Mortiis would be a few early examples, but today we have the confounding Slagmaur. Von Rov Shelter is the band's third full-length, and quite the bizarre entity. Alas, different does not always make for a good listen, and though this album features a few titillating segments, it does tend towards unwelcome ennui.

The spry, neo-classical intro "_" is delightful and creepy through its narration and playful orchestration, but "Drako Gigant" transforms the album into something 'other', a bludgeoning industrial black track (similar to Red Harvest) which starts strong, but gradually grows boring, even when the rhythms shift for a little chaos. "Fantom Eks Speriment" conjures another mire of black sludge with an industrial edge to the percussion, pleasing at first but again it devolves into what seems like endless repetition of uninteresting notes. Ditto for "Lange Knivers Natt", for its dull rise and fall rhythm despite a dense, dark backdrop, and a pretty ominous breakdown around the 1:45 mark which creates one of the highlights of the record. "Nattens Sorte Ord" is another classical interlude, but tonally darker, with some whispered vocals. "Klokker Tramp" is another, sludgy industrial black track but I found the atmosphere superior to any of its predecessors. The final piece is "Ramaskrik", which dwells in a haunting environment, yet again laden in repetitious note patterns.

Von Rov Shelter is stark, grim and raw, aside from the interludes, but unfortunately none of the rhythms really take advantage of that fact. There are interesting ideas at play, but dull in their execution, as if the album cannot completely shoulder the burden of its own weight. I hate to sound too negative; I appreciate bands thinking outside the box, and clearly Slagmaur does this, but the experience was somewhat lacking. For the heavier material, the final two tracks dominate the rest of the album, but they entered the picture a little late.

Verdict: Indifference [6/10]

http://www.slagmaur.com/

Code - Resplendent Grotesque (2009)

Following the 2005 debut Nouveau Gloaming, the United Kingdom's Code explore similar avant-garde black metal territory familiar to fans of Ihsahn's post-Emperor work with their latest Resplendent Grotesque.

Code kick the album off right on the first track "Smother the Crones" with layered guitar tones over pounding double bass that gives way to a catchy riff and standard black-tinged guttural screams. Those screams belie the range and quality of singer Kvohst's (formerly of Dødheimsgard) voice. The comparisons to Ihsahn here are apt, although Kvohst sings in a lower register, avoiding pretensions to King Diamond. Still fans of the later Ihsahn style are likely to enjoy Kvohst's work on here.

"In the Privacy of Your Own Bones" begins in similar to fashion to the opener, mixing Kvohst's pained screams with the blast beats of drummer Viper, leaving the hooks of the song to the riffing of guitarist Aort. However the band pull back after the intro to reveal the meat of the album: allowing Kvohst's vocals to soar over a heavy rhythm tinged by distant and mournful chords.

There is a consistency to the album, so you can get a good idea of whether or not you're going to like the rest from those first few tracks. "Possession is the Medicine" and to a lesser extent "The Ascendant Grotesque" break the mold a bit to go full out metal without the desire to explore the range of Kvohst's singing. This is a direction Code may want to explore more fully in order to push each song to their fullest potential.

Some listeners may find the album lacking in certain respects. They stray quite far from their black roots and desire to explore both the extreme and the pleasant. The album left me wanting to hear more from Code and is definitely recommended to fans of Ihsahn's later work.

Verdict: Win [7.5/10]

http://www.myspace.com/codeblackmetal

Psyopus - Bad Senses (2009)

Tweedle tweedle bwonk bang dwong dwong tweedle tweedle chugga eee chugga eee chugga eee skreeeeee.

What the fuck did I just listen to?

No, I don't mean I didn't understand Chris Arp's raging noodle-wall of guitar voodoo, accompanied by meth-riddled tangental bass noodle from Michael Horn, and the almost mechanically precise drumming from Jason Bauer. I love me some technical worship, and of all the bands on earth (Even you, Origin), nobody defines technical-for-technicals-sake quite like Psyopus. What I mean by “What the fuck did I just listen to” is that, after each listen of Bad Senses, I completely forget what I just listened to... but I kinda think it was pretty cool... I think.

It could be argued that Chris Arp is the most technically proficient guitarist in the world, and I wouldn't disagree with that statement. It could also be stated that on this album, the single best technical bass and drum performances ever have been laid down, and I could see some merit in that assessment. The dextrous and precise way these three gentlemen display their dedication to their craft of instrumental virtuosity is self-evident, and anyone who worships at the Altar of Li or Malmsteen because of their callous-chipping stringplay has yet to hear this band. The ridiculously fast tremelo picking leads way to chunks of ether shot out at all angles to dissonant bits being played off of sections of the fretboard I don't think anyone has used yet, ever, all at light speed with barely anything resembling a break. Bass and guitar often play off each other like some off-kilter sonic game of Hot Potato. Snare rolls are ungodly-tight, and the variety of drum beats here is superhuman. The result? Caustic, alkaline hardcore and technical death interwoven and covered with an avant-garde sheen.

What's most interesting is the dynamics used on the album. Instead of quiet/noisy, or melodic/dissonant, or even fast/slow, there seems to be a gradient scale of just how fucked up they can make sections. The intro to “X and Y”, for instance, would be a weird piece for any other band to use in their songs... for Psyopus, it's the closest thing to sanity they get to on the entire recording. After that? Ever seen the movie Eraserhead?

What has been sacrificed to the gods in order for these people to play like this? Well, in a word: Songwriting. There are numerous bands out there who fall under the same umbrella as Psyopus. Behold... the Arctopus, Capsule, The Dillinger Escape Plan. All of them are noisy and inaccessible (to varying degrees), all of them have unconventional song structuring and tooth-chipping, immediate ferocity, but I can recall things from the other three. If I'm trying to recall something from Bad Senses, despite over a dozen spins, I have to put the album back on. And even then whatever I just listened to slides out of my head when I put something more interesting on.

Psyopus continues to amaze people by their ability to shred where no one has shredded before, and as long as that's their schtick I can see them continuing to be a novelty act. Listen to this album for the amazing skill, I recommend you do so. However, like a kid who can do six hundred flips in the air off of the uneven bars but is unable to stick the landing, I'm going to have to go with a...

Verdict: Indifference [5/10] (Whiz bang!)

www.myspace.com/psyopus

Ephel Duath - Through My Dog's Eyes (2009)

While Ephel Duath have ever been an interesting and original band, I have never been much of a fan of their jazzier, mathematical progressions over the past few albums. For me, the more avant-garde black metal leaning of the first full-length Phormula remains the band's best material.

Through My Dog's Eyes is an interesting listen. As usual, you can't be quite sure what to expect; the album combines such wide ranging influences as blues, jazz, math metal, sludge and indie rock into a far-reaching but functional morass of poetic angst. The album starts with the bluesy slide of "Gift", complete with country guitar jangle, angry and aggressive hardcore vocals, and progressive explorations. Unfortunately, it's just not very good. "Promenade" and "Breed" are somewhat better, with some really strange riffs and a kind of driving alien atmosphere that often evoked the feel of a Voivod, yet taken to a new extreme of oddity. The sludge-driven experimental doom of "Spider Shaped Leaves" (great song title) is also pretty captivating, but the rest of the album gave me little to remember, even after a subsequent playthrough.

The album has a unique mix just as it has a fusion of expressive styles. The guitars are not too distorted, but bring just the right brunt of punky sludge to keep the album within the borders of a dark and playful tone. Guillermo's vocals are angry yet slip right into the confusion as a unifying force. If you are a fan of the past few albums, this one goes even further out into territory all its own. You may find quite a lot to engage you. I was certainly engaged by the stylistic choices, just not enough by the actual riffing. If you're new to the band, but favor the extreme avant-garde fringe metal ripples of bands like Ulver, Maudlin of the Well/Kayo Dot, recent Dillinger Escape Plan, etc, then give it at least a listen.

Verdict: Indifference [6/10]

http://www.myspace.com/ephelduath

Ulver - Perdition City (2000)

Norway's Ulver released an unbelievably raw and cold black metal album in 1996 titled Nattens Madrigal - Aatte Hymne til Ulven i Manden (translation: Madrigal of the Night - Eight Hymns to the Wolf in Man) with a deliciously evil concept: a man transforming into a wolf, becoming unchained from the will of God, with the help of Satan.

Who would have imagined that the outfit capable of that whirlwind of malignity could produce such thoughtful and beautiful music? That is not to say Perdition City is a good natured work. It is shot through with an ambiguous eerie atmosphere that lends itself to being enjoyed late at night, alone in the dark.

It's hard to tell if the band intended the title to be taken literally, but I like to imagine that the album as a whole represents the titular city, and the songs are explorations of the mood and soul of that city. It could be simply be something they thought would make a good title, but the song "Dead City Centres" and its descriptions of gangs and lone killers stalking highways leads me to believe that maybe I'm not too far off.

It's not easy to describe musically, but the main structure is trip hop infused with electronic miscellany, as well as jazz smatterings and the occasional piano or string interjection. It rapidly changes directions in its mood, from ominous to aggressive to something close to uplifting.

Although this album doesn't blow me away, it is still quite enjoyable, and has never bored me despite countless spins. All in all, it's very unique, and if you're looking for something off the beaten path you could do much worse.

Verdict: Win (you're taking a ride to the underworld, where death lurks in dark corners, and trouble is never far away)

http://www.myspace.com/ulver1

Dir En Grey - Uroboros (2008)

The seventh full length from the popular gothic J-rock band has arrived, and though I've never been a huge fan, they've always offered up something that was at least a little bit different, something mildly interesting. This album is no exception, and in some ways its their most mature album to date.

"Sa Bir" begins the experience with some eerie pianos and strings, before the moody "Vinuskha", a diverse song which ranges from soft, mellow Zeppelin-like acoustics to a raging spaz metal section akin to Mr. Bungle or Faith No More. "Red Soil" is a choppy metallic number, with some bizarre tempos, chugs and guttural vocals. "Doukoku to Sarinu" is another heavy one, with a very interesting progression which made it one of my favorite tunes on the disc. Two of the tracks are including in both English and Japanese versions, the single "Glass Skin" which is almost a powerful atmospheric post-rock piece that constantly reminds me of that metallic edge under the skin waiting to erupt. "Dozing Green" also begins mellow but then has some raging chorus bits with a myriad of vocals. Other highlights are the spastic "Reiketsu Nariseba" which is like a circus nu-black metal hybrid, and the creepy gothic rock of "Bugaboo".

There are some crappy nu-metal groove elements still to be had in the band's sound, but for the most part this album comes off rather original, if you could imagine a cross between Faith No More and Sigh then you might not be far from the truth, though this band isn't quite at that level of songwriting talent just yet.

Still, they are veterans of their scene, have always done things a little differently than the rest of the big J-rockers, and this is perhaps their best overall record to date. If you enjoyed their previous albums then this will probably blow you away. As far as myself, the positive qualities simply aren't in enough quantity for me to truly appreciate it.

Verdict: Indifference [6/10]

http://www.direngrey.co.jp/