Those of you who read our pipe smoking FAQ may have found your curiosity piqued; you may even have experimented with this strong psychoactive chemical and its benefits, especially if you absorb it through your mouth and not your lungs. At that point, you may wish for some top-notch leaf to explore.
Article by Lance Viggiano.
Ananku is random stereotypical sentimentality in terms of both pseudo climactic release and legacy nostalgia underscored by the crooning of its capricious composer. One may skip to any moment of this record and find a passable to competent riff which invites the listener to further explore its contents. Yet to sit through the work in succession, the order – or lack thereof- is much akin to a dreamlike state. Waking life is a comedic but rationally apprehensive continuity; whereas the experience of dreaming is much like thumbing through to one’s favorite moments in no particular order and therefore as a whole Ananku betrays its efforts at thematic unity. The forces behind Serpent Ascending make a noticed use of genre firmament however indecisive haste fashioned for itself a fallen world.
Conqueror wanted to be a part of the “scene” but did not have musical ideas. The band discovered that the muddied sound of early Beherit and Blasphemy circa Fallen Angel of Doom could be used to obfuscate their dearth of ideas. Furthermore the hostility between the Norwegian scene and the rest of black metal could be amplified under false pretenses while not offering any truly satisfying alternative themselves. Basically, point to candy assed pop drivel like Dark Funeral but go to the other end of the spectrum entirely with a paper thin wall of television white noise with a drunken chipmunk howling nonsense. Conqueror’s “music” is structured which ironically stands contra to the concept of all out war. A little anarchy would at the very least allow the essence of battle to bubble up from the pot. Instead it’s a tame morass of very low effort grindcore riffs and mostly incomprehensible low E-string noodling. The best that can be said about Conqueror is that J. Reed has an identifiable sound.
Article by Anton Rudrick.
Originally babtized as Amerindio at its time of conception in 2014, the project today known to us as Itzamná presents us with one of the forms of Thrash that are most authentically crude. This flows from an inner knowing of violence and adversity which foundation upon personal experience can alone provide. As per Thrash tradition (not to be confused with Speed Metal, also known as “Thrash Metal” in less versed circles), Itzamná channel the spirit of hardcore punk through the phrase-like riffcraft of underground metal. This lends a more apocalyptic character and a bloody thrust to the music in the form of heaviness that it would otherwise be remiss to lack, given the unapologetic finality of the propositions to be found herein.
Asphyx debuted the title track of their incoming Incoming Death on Youtube today and it at least its better than the awful Obituary “song” that came out yesterday. The album comes out on September 30th on Century Media Records which even though they put out a lot of Hot Topic crap, take less of a hacksaw to reissues and classic bands than the toilet scrubbers at Relapse or the “commodify everything retro with EZdrummer” philosophy of Nuclear Blast.
I picked up Dinkelacker’s Octoberfest to relieve myself of the gut cramps from drinking a six pack of Shiner’s pitiful attempt. The Oktoberfestbier Märzen pours out a dark, translucent brown and actually looks very similar Shiner’s Bock but smells better. I sniff dark fruits and grass. The taste is toffee, nuts, dark fruits, toasted bread but those are almost overwhelmed in the end by a generic grassy bitter finish. The beer is not hoppy but has enough hops in it to slightly overpower the malts but without actually letting you taste the hops. I had to drink many bottles to grasp the flavor profile. Dinkelacker – Oktoberfestbier Märzen is still better than any domestic rendition of the Oktoberfestbier style even if it has some probably intentional balance issues inhibiting the flavors so Hans can chug five liters while staring at a 23 year old’s breasts every October.
Father Befouled, one of the only even semi-competent Incantaclones, have announced on their Funbook page that they will be releasing a new album, Desolate Gods, next year on Dark Descent Records. Hopefully the band has progressed beyond straight imitation of Incantation, Profanatica, and Havohej.