With Neurosis hibernating and awaiting the apocalyptic rapture, Neurosis leader and guitarist Steve Von Till decides to take a musical journey by reinterpreting traditional folk songs. Harvestman is a strange melding of sound influences and ideas from the worlds of traditional folk, psychedelic, space rock, ambient, fuzz boxes, bag pipes, wah pedals and tape manipulations. Von Till takes traditional songs and strips them bare down to their essence then warps, filters, distills and augments them with the spooky warmth of overdriven fuzz and other textures. Most of “Lashing the Rye” is instrumental, except for two songs where Jarboe and a member of Amber Asylum lend their vocal talents for atmosphere to the song. The songs, in my opinion, do not sound like traditional folk songs, which is big tribute to Von Till’s sound manipulation techniques. The research I found for the album states that the song structures and melodies are completely intact from the originals which make what Von Till has created even more amazing. It’s hard to say if Von Till will make Harvestman a one album abstract tribute to European folk songs or continue onward to abstractly reinterpret other sound worlds. Either way, Harvestman is a fascinating, soothing journey that is both temporal and sedating.

What a wild and wacky world we live in when a bunch of metal rednecks from South Carolina can be home schooled in ancient Egyptian culture, decide to emulate their heroes from the first generation of Floridian death metal, and turn into the best current death metal band in the world. I’m not taking anything away from Nile, because they have definitely conquered the world with their metal inventiveness and immense musical chops and song composition. To say that Nile is obsessed with everything Egyptian is an understatement. All the songs are about the Egyptian ancient culture from art, religion, war and mysticism. The research background linear notes that Karl Sanders writes about the historical significance of each track, as well as the thought process that went into composing the songs is detailed and obsessive in its dedication to the subject matter. Ironically, this album is musically less Egyptian sounding than previous releases. There are fewer Egyptian interludes and the atmosphere comes out of each song. As usual, Nile songs are a blaze of unrelenting brutality and speed. From the chaotic “Sacrifice Unto Sebek,” which is a vortex of jagged hyper speed riffing, to the epic death metal of “User Maat Re,” Nile has continued their march to death metal fame. One of the catchiest death metal songs, at least the chorus, has to be “Lashed to the Slave Stick.” It just sticks in your head and percolates up from the gray matter at odd times, like standing in line for lunch, coding at the computer, and driving to work. “Lashed to the Slave Stick, lashed to the slave stick.” I can just imagine the old Egyptian gods rolling in their sarcophagi knowing that their stories and myths are being retold by a group of modern day death metal musicians from South Carolina.

Watch out all you wannebe doom bands! The founding legends of everything low, slow, and mournful are back from their slumber. With the current trend of doom making a comeback in the metal underground, it is nice to see the doom godfathers back leading the languid charge. It seems like every semi-legendary band from 1980’s have attempted a classic line-up reunion lately, I’d say Candlemass is the only one to actually sound vital and not some nostalgic throwback to a bygone era trying to milk previous highlights. Candlemass, along with St. Vitus and Trouble, were the originators of the classic doom metal sound by taking the monolithic power chords and imagery of early Black Sabbath and breathing in their own essence and charm that formed a subgenre all their own. Musically, the band has evolved just enough to stay current by upping the metal intensity, especially on the first track which is pure Priestly metal, and continuing on with their classic doom sound. Candlemass churn out massive catchy doom riff after massive catchy metal riff with Messiah Marcolin singing out his powerful operatic heart. The song “Mars and Volcanoes” is both desolate sounding and triumphant. Also, the album does pay doom homage with the song “Copernicus” that could easily be an unrecorded Sabbath song and also “Witches” could easily fit on their classic first album “Epicus Doomicus Metallicus”. It’s an awfully nice treat to have a regenerated and vital Candlemass back from the grave because its one of those small wonders that I didn’t think would ever happen in 2005.

Isa, the rune that reflects the element of ice and the condition of unchangeable stillness, is a very apt title for another monumental Enslaved release. Enslaved, the originators of Viking metal, have been in a constant flux of sound development since their start in 1991. Out of all the first wave of Norwegian black metal bands that forged the way for the globalization of black metal sound, Enslaved has managed to transcend themselves on each and every album. That being said, “Isa” is a nice quiet still point for the Enslaved musical progression. “Isa” solidifies Enslaved’s style of black metal by reinforcing their usual majestic epic riffing and raspy vocals with a continued use of thrash, psychedelia, progressive elements, and heathen melodic singing. As always, the band stay true to their northern heritage with the mysticism and the spirituality of the northern ethos, poetically visualized through lyrical verse and sonic imagery. The album highlight for me is the song “Return to Yggdrasill,” with its sonic portrayal of haunting freezing landscapes and empowering grandiose vocals. Instead of the major sound evolution, Enslaved tweak their sound with aural tributes to other great metal bands. Like on the song “Ascension” there is that evil Arcturnus organ groove, which makes me grin with a boyish glee. Also, on the song “Bounded by Allegiance,” there is nod to the old school black metal band Darkthrone with that great black metal polka shuffle. Also, royalties are due to the band Kreator because the riffing could have easily fit on their “Extreme Aggression” album. On the whole, “Isa” is another great Enslaved album that continues on the classy tradition of releases. A lyrical passage from “Isa” which embodies my feelings about this release and my continued relationship with the band is, “Let us gather again, under the leaves. We will gather again. In honor of the nine nights”.

Upon receiving this disc in the mail, my anticipation was high but my trepidation and anxiety over what Antimatter would produce was even higher. How could they ever top their last disc “Lights Out” which was my number pick for 2003? How could an all acoustic disc be able to hold a person’s interest, especially after their previous genre transcending electronic-dub-acoustic album? Well my concerns were immediately alleviated and I quickly accepted the sonically thinner but more aural organic Antimatter. “Planetary Confinement” exudes the Antimatter trademark of melodic melancholy and bleak desolate overtones. The title of the album speaks volumes to the lyrical themes of the album which revolve around life’s fears, alienation and disappointments. Musically it’s a cold acknowledgement of the gulf between a lost soul and the rest of humanity brought to fruition by simple acoustic songs enhanced by violin, piano and slightly percussive tribal drumming. As always, the vocals are stellar with enchanting, breathlessly lovely female vocals by Amélie Festa, who sings on Trouble’s “Mr. White.” The usual passionately honest and sincere male vocals are by Mick Moss and Duncan Patterson. Amazingly enough, this is more of a split album than a cohesive team of writing that creatively shapes the album Both Mick and Duncan recorded with different bands in different studios, yet somehow this locus separation works and “Planet Confinement” gels into a cohesive movement of musical wonderment. It shall be intriguing to see what comes of Antimatter since Mick and Duncan have separated. Antimatter will continue under Mick’s guidance and Duncan has started a band called Ion. Looking and listening to Antimatter’s back catalog, it has come to my attention after the fact that Antimatter really was two solo projects under one moniker since the beginning of the band. Hopefully out of the separation, two unique and similar Antimatter-like bands will evolve or maybe the Antimatter that has birthed such beautiful and desolate music will wither when these two sullen personalities venture out on their own. Maybe all will be crushed by the weight of the world.

The last Primordial album was a major disappointment for me after the wonderful and mournfully triumphant “Spirit the Earth Aflame” album, which touched my heathen heart. Well, the Irish lads have redeemed themselves in my eyes and are back with more dreary, uplifting, modern, pagan anthems. Gone is the tendency of the last album to overuse speedy black metal song tempos, which greatly improves the emotional impact of the songs and gives the songs more room to breathe and stretch out. Primordial melds beautiful melodies that tend to go against the grain of standard extreme metal. The Gaelic bloodline must inspire these cultural overtones that counter the band’s more dreary and depressive side. A quote from A.A. Nemtheanga, lead singer and lyrical poet, states, “The land of Ireland is a land of tragedy, blood and pride that epitomizes the ethos of this album.” Primordial are able to summon gallant passionate tales of woe about warfare, pagan doubts and spiritual rebirth, Irish historical events, and primarily about the seemingly disheartening dark turn that today’s culture is taking. What truly makes this band stand out from most others is the vocals of A.A. Nemtheanga, who’s emotionally stirring vocals can be triumphant and defiant one moment and then despondent and sorrowful the next. The highlight of the album has to be “The Golden Spiral,” which portrays a pagan faithful crying out to god in the worldly elements for a sign of existence and finally finding that sign in the unity and brotherhood of people. Thusly knowing the gods are in us all. The music for this song is the pure essence of what makes Primordial masters of their craft with their ability to weave Celtic melodies within the epic structure of a charging metal song. The centerpiece of the album, thematically and musically, has to be the song “The Gathering Wilderness.” It seems to be a metaphor for the devolution of the human heart and society through the opening of historical wounds, and the narrowing of cultures by taking away freedoms and shackling the natural spirituality of the elements. It’s a pretty bleak song that screams out in bitterness and vile both lyrically and musically. In the theme of “The Gathering Wilderness” darkness foreshadows many aspects of the album. However the crowning achievement of the album is the dignified sadness of “The Coffin Ships.” With its huge “The God Machine” buildup, which took me ages to figure out this sonic reference, it packs a massive emotional and musical wallop. This song is a moving depiction of the Irish potato famine and the desire for countless Irish people to leave their country in hopes of survival and escape from the misery of death and despair. After hearing this song, a welling up of empathic pride and sorrow of what this people endured makes one want to turn Irish and sacrifice a potato to the gods in the bereavement of this natural catastrophe. The Gathering Wilderness is dark, beautiful, primal, sorrowfully wretched, desperate, timeless album that transcends land and people. Primordial always makes one feel triumphant of spirit even though one has to journey through the bitter harvest of woe to see the light.

Another year passes along into the yawn of time. Another year and a new opus from Opeth arrives out of the abyss. Another year and Opeth makes my top 15 list. It is like clockwork and almost a universal truth that Opeth will make my top 15 list, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. As always, Opeth have created another stunning work of art that builds on their prior efforts but never loses the focus of what constitutes the Opethian sound. In some ways, “Ghost Reveries” walks the same musical paths of previous Opeth albums, but at the same time there are a lot of new small ideas and elements drifting throughout every song too. Evolution for Opeth is now more nuanced with only minor tweaking of their established sound. After countless albums and more then ten years of existence, the band has never sounded more relaxed with themselves and their music. The first song “Ghost of Perdition” starts out with an imposing wall of straight up death metal, proving the band hasn’t lost their deathy root before the song segues into a traditional mellower Opeth territory. One thing that always seems to improve as each new Opeth album arrives is Mikael Åkerfeldt’s vocals, which get better on each album. His singing voice is sweet, clear, strong and passionate, while his death growls are monstrously deep and articulated perfectly. Arguably, Mikael is the best vocalist in all of metaldom. If the first song is a semi-typical song for Opeth the second song on the album “Baying of the Hounds” definitely broadens the Opeth base sound into even more proggy 1970’s territory with its lush organ and Deep Purple groove. One of the initial things that stuck out on the album was the prominent organ sound which is incorporated high in the mix of sound on every song. There are many sonic deja vu moments for me on this disc: like the latter period Led Zeppelin (think “Kashmir”, “Rain Song”), Dream Theater, Deep Purple, King Crimson, Opeth (think plaintive vocals on “To Bid You Farewell”), and the soloing of blues man Robert Cray. Still, the songwriting has always been Opeth’s strength, and evolution of the band doesn’t degrade from the complex intricate songs. Yet again Mikael seems be obsessed with ghosts like on previous albums where he wrote about ghosts, hauntings, night terrors and the metaphysical world. As usual, the musicianship is amazing with subtle frills and textures which enhance the dichotomy of melody and aggression between the riffs. It’s near impossible for me to choose a favorite song off most Opeth albums and “Ghost Reveries” is not any different. However, I’m grooving on the proggy moments and sort of happy that the ties between Porcupine Tree have been severed. Now I wait for time to pass, fully try to digest this new album, and wait for the cycle of life to bring me a new Opeth album. Still awaiting my next morningrise, but I’m happy in the mire of ghost stories.

Bliss. Ethereal delight. Childlike wonder. These emotions are hard to instill in a listener, but Sigur Ros are able to convey them effortlessly through their magical shimmering otherworldly songs. Previous releases by Sigur Ros were often obtuse and nearly overwhelming with the suicidal depressive elements, now Sigur Ros almost sound happy and contend with their creations and the world. Sigur Ros was always music critic darlings because of their unique approach to music composition. They were always framed as those quirky Icelandic dudes who sung in a made-up language, called “Hopelandic”, and wrote massive morose dreamscapes for songs. Maybe the guys decided to sell out to commercialism because now they sing in Icelandic and write perfect beautiful pop songs. Granted most songs on Takk are songs that are epic in nature at over seven minutes in length, and generally the songs take at least half of that time in the buildup of the song. My only quibble with the band is they do seem to favor a formula for composing songs with lulling quiet lush introductions and then grandiose buildups that swell and grow until a crescendo swelling ecstasy of sound delights that overwhelms the senses with euphoria and wonder. The Sigur’s compose their songs with layered shimmering electronics, bowed guitars, huge swelled guitars, piano flourishes, orchestral movements and swirling stunning vocals that seem almost childlike in quality. It’s nearly impossible to pick out songs because the album flows as total unit. Even with lyrics that are totally foreign in its Icelandic linguistics “Takk” makes you wish for more beauty than your soul could possibly bear. Their music is a glimpse of heaven that makes everything else seem plain and ordinary in comparison. Thank you Sigur Ros.

The rumors were floating around the alternative underground that Low’s signature sound had turned heavy, loud, and aggressive. Utter blasphemy. I have seen several of Low’s concerts over the years where the band played so quietly and gently serene-like that when people talk too loudly during the show other audience members would shush these baseless karmic loudmouths in a highly pious manner. Low playing loud and aggressive? Utter lunacy. Low, the band out of Duluth who pretty much founded the whole slowcore movement, usually weaves slow, softly harmonic, glacially somber, quiet songs with deep introspective lyrics. Well, the rumors were mostly true because Low’s sound is definitely heavier and louder, but more in a rock ‘n’ roll pop song way, but the band hasn’t totally given up on the blissed out quiet tenderness. Low’s sound evolution really shouldn’t be a major surprise after their last album “Trust,” which dabbled with pop elements in some songs. Still, when the band kicks in with the first song “Monkey” it’s almost shocking to the senses with how much Low’s sound has evolved into a nearly mainstream rock-n-roll sound. This song starts with a wave of fuzzed-out bass and nearly jarring guitars that are very un-Low-like and the bass and guitar stay snarling at the front of the mix throughout the song. In contrast the next song “California” is a slice of sunny pop with its memorable harmonies and hooky chorus and the lyrics are typical Low with their self-effacing ironic humor. Amusingly enough, there are many reference points to the rocking or harder edged Neil Young band Crazy Horse which can be glimpsed in certain sections of song especially when the rusted-tin can guitar scrapings emerge out of nowhere. Even with all this new found guitar dissonance and rock swagger the band still deliver those lush gorgeous vocal harmonies and the interplay between husband and wife, Mimi Parker and Alan Sparhawk, which they have delivered since their inception. One of the prettiest songs about a comic book character, and I dare say the most prototypical Low-ish songs on the album, is “Silver Rider,” which is lush, quiet, and seemly disconnected from time and place. Sheer minimalist beauty. The cathedral hush and morose reverence might be gone but the essence and soul of Low have evolved into a band willing to take chances by layering their songs with varying sonic textures, quiet beauty, ironic irrelevance and the ability to write gorgeous rocking’ pop songs makes “The Great Destroyer” an astounding album.

A cold wind blows across the desert prairie at early dawn. The rugged harsh windblown landscape mocks and taunts with its ability to give abundance or digressing into barrenness. Early American frontier settlers didn’t have much control over their situation or the land except by faith or superstition. It’s not very often music can capture a time, place and essence. However, Earth are able to do so with their music by sonically portraying the trials, fears, longing, and hope that the early American settlers endured in their manifest destiny to tame the American continent. Earth have hewed out elements of Americana, roots rock, blues, country, and doom that make the senses drift back to the rugged bygone days. The musical imagery is desolate and expansive, but at the same time has warmth to the slow building contemplative songs. The presentation of the album with its artwork and song titles, ties perfectly with the musical motif. The band uses old 1800’s photos of rustic barns, mining life, raping of the land by pre-industrialism, mass grave executions, and hard farm life. This imagery is referential to the desolation and harshness of the song titles like “The Dire and Ever Circling Wolves”, “Left in the Desert”, “Mirage”, and “An Inquest Concerning Teeth”. Musically, this album is all about atmosphere, which is created by massive guitar patterns that evolve very slowly. Huge swells of instrumental tension rise and dissipate with washes of shimmer that eventually recede to uncoil beautiful dusty melodies. The guitars are the main focus of the songs which are heavily reverbed but there is not a distorted guitar to be heard. Additional instruments like the lap steel guitar, banjo guitar, trombone, and the barely there minimalist drums set a plaintive struggling mood for the songs. The song progression is mesmerizing and almost cyclical with a thread of continuality recurring in the riffs or tones throughout the course of the album. It’s the shimmering mirage in the distance, the hope of taming the land, the dream of making it rich prospecting, fighting and surviving obscure natural forces. Faith and symbols were the only way the early settlers were able to articulate the fear of the unknown vastness and occult mystery of nature. “Hex”, taps into this spirit by articulating those haunting dark feelings, pioneering spirit, and need to tame the mundane world by transporting the listener into Earth’s worlds beyond imagination.

Godflesh part deus or the rebirth of Godflesh. The band Godflesh, which was created by the musical visionary Justin Broadrick, holds a very special place in my heart which I will carry my whole life. In 1988, I discovered this tiny English band that had a massive post-industrial sound. I really like their first album but their next release changed my thoughts on music and how I related to it. A couple of months later the album “Streetcleaner” arrived and it changed my life. Nothing has touched “Streetcleaner” for pure visceral emotions: hate, longing, alienation, questioning, rebirth and nothing has touched it for pure crushing sonic annihilation. For about 2 years I listened to “Streetcleaner” at least once a day and sometimes even more. It is definitely in my top 5 albums of all time. After 14 years Godflesh’s vitality and relevance started to wane and I thought my need and attachment with this crucial band was finished. I knew Justin had many side projects away from Godflesh but the passion was never the same for me. Jesu came out of nowhere and rekindled my love affair with the Godflesh sound and vision which is still present in Jesu, but channeled in a more melancholy and personal direction. Justin has explained the reason for the name Godflesh, “I heard someone once say that music is the voice of God.” In that sense, it’s something that can get inside of you and move you spiritually on a communication level. The word God conjures something immense and inconceivable. The ‘flesh’ part is what affects you on a physical level. The reason for name Jesu might be two-fold first it was the last song on the final Godflesh album “Hymns.” Also it could be a reference to Bach’s “Jesu, The Joy of Man’s Desiring,” which to me is very fitting for the essence of this new band. Gone are the nihilistic rage and apocalyptic crumbling of society that Godflesh immersed itself which is now replaced by Jesu’s morose melancholy and redemption through the distillation of the human experience into a stark singularity. The central themes in Jesu are love, loss and relationships all filtered by brooding melodies that are inspired by groups like Red House Painters, Brian Eno, My Bloody Valentine, and Joy Division. Oh, but the earth rumbling heaviness remains in certain songs like “Man/Woman” that could have easily have fit onto “Streetcleaner”. Jesu establishes a soundscape environment that is sustained and submerged in sonic layers and repetition of tones which entrance and engulf the listener into new inner worlds of consciousness. The album opens with a stellar song “Your Path to Divinity” that shows Justin’s brooding use of sorrowful sung vocals. On “Friends Are Evil,” thick guitar rhythms undulate with the man-machine pounding of drums that are slowed down to syrupy molasses. From the opening of this harsh track, one simply couldn’t imagine the beauty that would follow when Justin finally starts singing the vocal line which serrate the immovable wall of sonic sludge wide open and creates an enormous overwhelmingly ethereal soundscape. Also “Sun Day” continues this ethereal soundscape with its layering of droning guitars that seem to resonate the song out to the fridges your mind. Jesu has been able to tap into the shared, collective primal oversoul and truly touch emotions with its fiercely beautiful music that most artists dare to try but fail. Flesh crumbles in the real world … We all falter.

The last time I had heard anything from Michael Gira was his seminal proto-punk-industrial band the Swans who pummeled the listener with soul eviscerating extremism. It was my love of the band Godflesh, who were highly influenced by the Swans, that I investigated the early releases by the Swans. I own the first three Swan’s releases but then fell away from the band. Later through the years I heard bits and pieces that the Swans turned into some sparse minimalist folk band which didn’t peak my interest or attention, and I moved on with my life. Somehow this year I became fascinated with the latter period, American label recordings, of Johnny Cash and by chance when I was researching Cash a reviewer mentioned Michael Gira as a successor to that deep baritone voice. Upon this tickling of my itch for synchronicity and an honest disbelief that the Gira, from the early Swans as the front man with the yelling guttural vocals from a notorious torturous band, could possibly turn into a folk rock singer for his Angels of Light. My jaw dropped to the floor on my initial listen, what a fantastically rich and wholesome sound Michael Gira now channels. It’s a sound that mixes: acoustic folk, perverted Americana styling, rock, avant-garde, and the spirit and passion of some beggar down on the corner singing old Johnny Cash. What really shine through to the listener are Gira’s voice and his storytelling lyrics. That voice is so huge, earthy, and soulful with a baritone that resonates in a life weary way that seems to encapsulate a wisdom that is more learned than taught. However, Gira wouldn’t be anything without his songs and mostly amazing lyrics which draw you into the songs. Each song has its own mini-vignette that is filled with characters that feel ever so real and tragic in their frailty and odd idiosyncrasies. Most of the songs/stories are portraits of people somehow involved in his life, from real to what is on television. This is in contrast to the old Gira I knew, who dealt with the weighty metaphors of God, power, money, and sex. Gira has the extraordinary talent to make the listener truly care about his characters, even when those characters remain nameless, strong, unknowable and sometimes revolting. Most of the songs are simple, uncomplicated guitar and vocal based, however on occasions, flourishes of layered dissonant guitars, vocal harmonies and unidentifiable percussions overwhelm the soundscape. Michael Gira’s Angel of Light is able to musically transform the worldly mundane into poetry and tales so engaging and relevant. Who could have guessed that a search for Johnny Cash would lead me back to the one of the godfathers of my all time favorite bands? Coincidence? Or some broader hiccup the universe used to force me to broaden my musical perspectives. Whatever it was I’m now a serious devotee of Angels of Light.

Sunn))), the band named in tribute to Earth, the penultimate drone band, and also to Sunn amplifiers, which by the way, can both actually level small cities, has bridged the proverbial ginnungap between drone and black metal. Ironically, black metal of late has been losing its sense of evil and dreadful frightful feeling. Well, Sunn))) has positioned itself as a spearhead of the next wave of pure evil sounding black metal. On this current disc, the band decided to enlist the services of Wrest, from the bands Leviathan and Lurker of the Chalice, and Malefic, of Xasthur for this record. Both wicked individuals are masters of this new nihilistic black metal that is arising out of sunny California. Sunn))) have always had charred drones and dirginess however “The Black One” sees them focusing it into actual song structures. Maybe a reason for this is the homage and worship of the heavy metal genres aural iconography and imagery, however don’t fear, fellow droneheads, everything is Sunnified and taken to the extreme. An example of this metal worship is the song “Cursed Realms (Of The Winter Demons)” which is a surreal tribute to Immortal’s song of the same namesake. The song is slowed down to a snail plodding pace with Malefic shrieking while metaphors of wind swept snow pelts your face with deep sonic guitar destruction. There are also a few instances of old Sunn))) lurking on this disc with the mayhemic bass barrage crunch on Orthodox Caveman, which quests for the elusive homage to Earth II droneiness and the perfect brown note. Without a doubt the best song on “The Black One” has to be “Bathory Erzebet.” A little history on Ms. Bathory for the naive or non-metal community… Erzebet was a real deranged Hungarian countess who thought her youthful beauty could be prolonged by bathing in the blood of young nubile women, so the story goes. Anyways this song evokes that dread and creepiness of the Bathory Erzebet mythology. To take this song even more over the top and mythical is the press release from the band. On the performance and recording of this song Malefic was sealed in a wooden coffin, and placed in the back of a ’78 Cadillac hearse, where his “vokills” are recorded for posterity. Now true or not this is the epitome of the heavy metal art form. Onto the actual song, which is so drenched in dread, fear and loathing. The first seven minutes the band takes Brian Eno out back and beats him with the entrails of a wizened grizzled goat. After this, the band then turns serious and purveys some earth drilling abstract drone dirge with said Malefic gasping for his last lifeblood inside that wooden coffin, which happens to be in a ‘78 hearse. Black, of course. Innovation sometimes is hard to find in a limited genre like metal but with Sunn)))’s worship of metal’s history and their seemly endless need to push the boundaries the future looks bright. There is a new bowel shaking dark star arising in the metal world and it’s appropriately named Sunn))).

Ulver are the band of merry sound chameleons, or are they eternal tricksters that love to mess with the minds of their audience? Ulver the band, named after the wolf, started out life as a pagan melodic black metal band and then morphed into some weird electronic ambient film soundtrack sounding band. Each Ulver release has brought a massive sound evolution and deconstruction of their prior musical style. I pledged to myself that I would never ever buy or listen to a new Ulver album unless Garm went back to singing and the band started playing actual music again. Well Garm’s back actually singing and Ulver is back playing actual songs instead of sounding like film score. Which means I’m back wondrously enthralled by this enigma of a band? Granted, the first few listens to “Blood Inside” are a confusing and very perplexing experience. A threshold of understanding needs to be crossed before the wonders of the album reveal themselves to the listener. The reason for this is Ulver’s sound is nearly indescribable and can be classified as being experimental, sound noir, avant garde, and a good smattering of who even knows. Their influences are endless but the true magic is the masterful way they combine black metal, jazz, progressive, blues, classical, industrial, ambient, ethereal, dub funk throb, Disney’s Electric Light Parade (and that is just the explainable sounds) into memorable and compelling songs. One aspect that never seems to change though is Garm’s vocals. He is blessed with voice that can sing in any style with passion, character and feeling. It’s hard to believe that voice was silenced for 3 ep’s and 4 film soundtracks. The inspirations for songs come from personal life experiences and from the poets Fernando Pessoa and William Blake. It’s nearly impossible to describe the songs because they are usually a constant flux of over-the-top layers upon layers of sound collages with song structures that are continually expanding and contracting by integrating a host of keyboard effects, sampling, tape manipulation, heavy doses of live and synthesized percussion, guitar and violin and those wondrous Garm vocals. Somehow, Ulver walk the fine line of pretentiousness and creating great musical art. Viva megalomania.

Blackness and silence. Lurker of Chalice create a self-encapsulated world in the spectrum between what is blackness and what is silence. The shades between these two elements are explored sonically in the song dynamics and also simultaneously in a song. Lurker of Chalice dynamically contrast the loud and soft dichotomy very masterfully by composing songs like “Spectre As Valkerie”, that slowly develop, so the quiet soft sections are enchanting and sorrowful and then the loud sections are ominously sickening by the use of slow motion dirges. It’s hard to tell if Wrest, the mastermind behind Lurker of Chalice, is a genius or an idiot savant, because the way he composes songs seems like two different songs are playing at the same time. There is a top layer to the song where the blackened doom guitars dominate and then a sub layer where keyboards or bass seem to be propelling a different song ahead or silencing that section of the song. Through this sound exploration Lurker of Chalice create a unique aural experience all their own. Lurker of Chalice do have influences and they seem to be these bands: Burzum, Leviathan, Bauhaus, Fields of Nephilim, and Ved Buens End, however these influences are minor and on the whole, Lurker sounds like no other band. The shades of blackness on the album are painted by the use of overdriven black metal doom guitars, damaged off kilter melancholic melodies, occasional black metal fury of blast beats, and warm thick fuzzy keyboards. The different shades of silence are employed through the interplay of the keyboards or guitars that also propel or counteract the flow of the song. There is droning silent ambience that flows under the surface of all songs. Each song on the album traverses its own blackness and stillness, yet the album has a cinematic feel by the use of film sound samples and obscure found sounds. The song “Piercing Where They Might” implements a unique song force where the guitars seem to be revving up and down like an engine which drives the song forward. This almost gives the listener a seasick feeling and no other band attains this sound. The vocals vary between a warbly off key singing and trollish grumble which is often used by Wrest as another instrument, which sets the atmosphere of the songs. On the song “Minions,” overdriven blackened guitars lurch and groan while a soft tickling piano-ifed keyboard counterpoints with the melody line musical. There is a rumor that wrest has four unreleased albums in the can for Lurker of Chalice, hopefully Wrest's future musical invocations will continue the exploration of sound textures he touched on with this masterpiece.