In 2017 the album of the year was delivered by a UK (Scotland, specifically) band called Dvne. While we wait for a long-promised and much-delayed follow-up from them, another UK band (England this time) has given us the next best thing. There’s apparently something special in Britannia that’s birthing these killer artists. The simplest and most immediate reference one could throw at both bands is old Mastodon but, like Dvne, Everest Queen eschews and evades such overly convenient comparisons.

The overwhelming impression at the start of opener “To the Bleeding Hollows” is that of YOB. Its buildup could have been lifted from a YOB album, and that impression doesn’t change much when it amps up to get louder and heavier. Moving into “Blood That Binds the Iliad,” we find the Mastodon comparison, though there are other times on the album that the mighty YOB sound rears its head again.

I hear a lot of Dvne-like melodies here, or are they Mastodon melodies? In time it’s all blurred and the only thing that matters is that your ears are drowning in vibrant, urgent, compelling sound. Everest Queen, however, is heavier and dirtier than Dvne. There’s a massive, superb fuzz to the guitar tone that rarely lets up . Where they really surprise you is with the hooks, though. A prime example is “Neptune’s Gates,” which explodes into a titillating riff-fest in its final minute, catchy as fuck and thoroughly headbangable. Great albums have those moments that get you every time, that wake you up and engage you even if you’re distracted or you’ve let the music fade into the background and aren’t truly listening. This is unquestionably one of those moments, and it’ll snap you back to the present so it can thoroughly kick your ass.

The name Everest Queen came with a certain connotation for me. I expected something much more in a traditional stoner rock vein, and was surprised and even confused when I was greeted with this enormous beast. While there’s enough crumbling fuzz on the downtuned guitars to throw this record in the stoner rock camp, it’s really a shudderingly heavy sludge metal masterwork. Enter Eden and be destroyed.

https://everestqueen.bandcamp.com/album/dead-eden

A return to traditional heavy metal has been a common theme in the larger metal genre in recent years. Rising bands such as Visigoth, Eternal Champion, Spirit Adrift, Khemmis, and many others have brought focus back to what many would argue is the core of the genre: melody and riffs, riffs, riffs galore. This return to form is so prevalent that it spawned a New Wave of Traditional Heavy Metal (NWOTHM) tag, playing off the New Wave of British Heavy Metal (NWOBHM) that itself largely defined the genre in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s.

Chief among influencers is the mighty Thin Lizzy, and you can’t throw a rock without hitting a Thin Lizzy-wannabe band anymore. There are worse goals, what with the Lizzy being resplendent and worthy of much praise, but a lot of these bands are simply aping the style. Tanith, on the other hand, manages to rise above and capture the very essence. Partly through production, but certainly through the band’s sheer talent, “In Another Time” doesn’t just sound like Thin Lizzy; it could sit proudly next to albums in their catalog.

I first became aware of Tanith via their excellent “Citadel” 7”, which is backed with the song “Eleven Years.” Both are present here as well, and do not lose one bit of their shine in the context of the full record. But new entries such as the rocking “Book of Changes” and the uplifting “Wing of the Owl” or “Under the Stars” carry the Thin Lizzy torch admirably. The latter also has a romping bass-driven intro that could have been lifted from either of the first two Iron Maiden albums. “Cassini’s Deadly Plunge” could fall in that camp easily enough too, especially in its glorious finish that bleeds pure metal. “Mountain” is a colossal Thin Lizzy-styled anthem, with inspiring lyrics. One way in which the album does depart from the Lizzy formula, though, are the vocals that are shared by the female bassist and male guitarist; they lend a folksy but charming quality to the affair, while also making it feel like a rustic throwback.

Of all these great songs, “Dionysus” is a standout. More classic rock in feel at first, it reveals the album’s best melody line before rocketing into metal glory. After returning to the style of the first verse, it works back to a speedier, metallic passage before letting rip with stunning, emotive dual-guitar harmony, resulting in possibly the greatest riff of 2019. Really this song is pure Lizzy; when I was first getting into that seminal band, I was blown away by how some seemingly innocuous, poppy hard rock song would reveal sizzling riffs and melody that were the precursor to NWOBHM, and would change the metal world forever. That Tanith can summon this same feeling and engender the same rapturous fever is a credit to them indeed.

Thank the gods for the Internet. I don't know how in the world kvlt unsigned gems like Taraban would ever be found and heard otherwise. Though they do hail from Poland which, weirdly enough, is quickly growing one of the hottest stoner rock scenes around. I know. Poland.

A possible point of comparison for Taraban would be Uncle Acid & the Deadbeats. There’s that sort of retro occult sheen over some of the music here, such as in sprawling, remarkable opener “Last Laugh,” but that’s also a drastic oversimplification. For one thing, Uncle Acid is more and more inclined towards lo-fi production methods in order to make themselves sound like some evil ‘60s garage rock band, where Taraban shows zero interest in that approach. “How the East Was Lost” is well-produced, with a warm, spacey, expansive feel that is part of what makes it so appealing.

To be clear, these guys are unquestionable fans of ‘70s rock. They pretty much flat-out say that’s their style on their Bandcamp page, they dress that way, and their sound is drenched in the kind of analog lusciousness that makes ‘70s music fans refuse to move past that decade. “Backseat Driver” sounds a whole lot like Witchcraft, another bell bottom-wearing practitioner of ‘70s rock love. But Witchcraft hasn't sounded this vital in about eight years. And unlike early Witchcraft, Taraban completely avoids sounding like a Pentagram clone.

What really makes “How the East Was Lost” so amazing is its total lack of pretense. You may think that being ‘70s-obsessed can lead to limiting, copycat trappings, and you’d be right. Some bands just want to take that stamp and press it on themselves, and they may succeed at sounding good and writing cool songs, but they’re a flash in the plan, regardless of decade. Taraban is the real deal, or as real as it gets in 2020. Incredible songwriting, perfectly paired vocals, an abundance of great riffs, and all of it positively dripping with soulful blues sincerity. The East may have been lost, but these guys certainly aren’t.

https://taraban.bandcamp.com

Another Saor album, another list slot. What else is there to say? Classy black metal with soaring melodies, gobs of atmosphere, and a brilliant, breathtaking use of traditional Celtic instrumentation. Saor is special, unique, undaunted, and unchallenged in the genre.

https://saor.bandcamp.com/album/forgotten-paths

“Medieval black metal” as a genre tag might rightfully make someone wary. It seems inherently cheesy, like it’s going to skew just a wee too much into cosplay territory. No doubt some of the 22 bands that metal-archives.com classifies as medieval black metal are horrifying (and not in a good way). But there are other bands doing it successfully, such as Obsequiae and Ungfell. Add Italy’s Flamen to that esteemed group.

“Fvror Lvnae” is simply broken into five parts, with titles “I” through “V,” and there is nary a hint of cheese among them. What is among them is an insane legion of epic fucking riffs. By the metal gods, does this album rip. The medieval-sounding tremolo guitar fireworks abound, with highlights being spread throughout “II,” the second half of “III,” and most powerfully near the end of “IV,” which is a spiraling descent into pagan ecstasy, the guitars becoming so piercing and momentous that you could build a climactic battle scene around them in a fantasy film. The first couple minutes of “II” are ominous as hell, and aptly so, as the furious riffing and growls that follow are the darkest moments of the record. “I” is just altogether badass after lulling you with a minute of what sounds like pretty images of prancing maidens and charming bards. Well, minus the malicious whispering over the top, anyway. Keyboards layered upon all the blackened riffery pour on a hefty amount of atmosphere, but the album’s indisputable power is in how frequently it makes you want to throw the horns, bang your head, and engage in air guitar.

If you’re going to cloak your style in qualities that conjure the ancient past, making it completely rock out at the same time is not a bad way to go. Flamen has more than achieved that, and in the end proves that genres and tags mean nothing. Simply put, this is hugely compelling heavy metal that anyone with broader tastes ought to be able to get behind.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PqZLDj1wDNg&list=LLZ_rC9e2a5DSLm2WNZbSrmg&index=250

Sometimes I hear something I must own, but it takes so long to acquire it that the band releases new material in the meantime. So it was with Sweden’s Skraeckoedlan, whom I came to know first through their “Sagor” album, then their debut “Äppelträdet,” both of which deliver some blistering stoner rock fuzz and groove in line with countrymen Lowrider and Truckfighters. When “Eorþe” appeared, I expected (and gleefully anticipated) more of the same. Well I didn’t get it. But as with many great albums, sometimes being confused or even disappointed on the first pass is part of the process.

“Eorþe” is the classic example of a band moving to the next level, progressing and growing, and that can come as a shock. The poppier nature of the album had me thinking Skraeckoedlan had gone off the deep end and left their stoner roots behind. The truth is, there is no shortage of fat grooves and fuzzy riffs here, but the overall sound is enhanced, textured, and even more rewarding. It’s actually very much akin to how the Truckfighters started evolving on what was also their third album, “Mania.” I used to say there must be something in the water in Sweden to account for the incredible quantity of quality music, but there must also be something that makes these stoner bands follow a similar trajectory.

First track “Guldåldern” is easy enough to appreciate, though its lighter touch is questionable within the context of previous material. “Kung Mammut,” though, is totally bewildering on first listen. It pulses with electronics while sounding like a Sólstafir outtake. Yet there’s plenty of fuzz at each end, and it could almost sit comfortably on a later Truckfighters album. The guitar work is expressive in a way that Truckfighers would come to embrace and utilize commonly. “Creature of Doggerland,” conversely, is instantly likeable for its fat, fuzzy chords which are delightfully rendered on not just one guitar, but two in harmony. A characteristic that begins to emerge is that many of these songs are long, much longer than what you get from standard stoner fare. But so too did Truckfighers stray into relative epics as they progressed.

Forget all this evolution for a second, though; “Angelica” rocks with crazy abandon no matter how you slice it. A spastic drum intro gives way to a wild, speedy tempo and precise, technical guitar work that shows the band going as proggy as they’ve ever gone. The delightful “Mammutkungens Barn” drops the fuzz hammer hard in its last couple minutes, the buzzing guitars coating everything in a glorious sonic crust. It’s followed by the stunning “Elfenbenssalarna,” which does its very best Pallbearer impression. No joke -- the riffs and melody line straight-up sound like they were lifted from that band’s first two records. It’s uncanny. But then things turn distinctly more Swedish as thick guitars unfurl and the fuzz hits its highest level thus far. This monster track clocks in at 10:11, and every moment of it is spectacular. The vocals on this record are smoother and more refined than on its predecessors, but here they are downright beautiful. “Tentakler och Betar” smacks you back into realizing how much the band is indulging in prog, but very much to their benefit, and instrumental closer “Angra Mainyu” contributes to that sense too.

“Eorþe” reeks of growth and sincerity. It’s a defining moment for a band really coming into its own and realizing an impressive vision. I’m jaded enough to expect they’ll take it one step too far next time, but I can hope I’ll be proven wrong about that. For now, Skraeckoedlan has provided a sublime work in which I have revelled countless times, and doubtless will many more.

https://fuzzoramarecords1.bandcamp.com/album/earth

I can be a pretty grim and morbid guy. A large part of what has long drawn me to metal are themes of darkness, misery, death, hopelessness, etc. I just roll that way. So anyone that knows my proclivity toward the less-than-chipper side of life might find it strange indeed that I should find anything in Astronoid that suits my personality. Well, call me an enigma.

There is an indie pop band called Mew that I generally adore. Astronoid is a metal Mew. It’s just that simple. Both have an otherworldly air to them, an untouchable light and beauty that cannot be contained and cannot be denied by even as salty and morose a bastard such as myself. That isn’t to say that clouds don’t occasionally obscure the sun even on planet Astronoid, but that just adds excellent texture to their style. “I Dream in Lines” and “Lost” are uplifting as a whole, with gray notes here and there, and both are excellent. By contrast, “Fault,” my favorite song, feels reserved and cautious, lurking behind those clouds (gee, I wonder why it’s my fave). “All I want is to feel all the sunlight,” sings Brett Boland. I am right there with you, man. Especially in 2020, I think a lot of us just want to feel some light, some warmth, some hope. There’s a note of longing in “Astronoid” -- points of reference are “I Wish I Was There While the Sun Set” and the almost-melancholy “Beyond the Scope” -- but light and hope always prevail. “Ideal World” is a stunning finale, also tinged with some sadness or desperation, but buoyed by anticipation of something better. It’s right there in the title, after all. Its tight percussion and soaring melodies are wondrous to behold.

The band has metal pedigree, with several members having former involvement in once-great post-black metal act Vattnet Viskar, who later became known only as Vattnet. But the stylistic shift is so extreme, it may as well be a different band altogether. Still, the talent shines through.

I cannot help but feel positive when I listen to this album, and it’s a mighty piece of art that can engender that feeling in me. Astronoid is not for the average metal fan -- the closed-minded need not apply. But for those willing to open heart and head to the power contained herein, a remarkable journey awaits.

https://astronoidband.bandcamp.com/album/astronoid

Denver’s Dreadnought came to my attention with their 2017 album “A Wake in Sacred Waves,”which I discovered a year late, or it would have absolutely made my Top 15 then. Their doom/prog/black metal/jazz fusion renders unto them a special, magical, unique sound that can be compared to no other band. One of their most compelling aspects is frontwoman Kelly Schilling, whose formidable voice can switch instantly from silky, lilting, and angelic, to acidic, tormented, and demonic. Instrumentation is varied, from the expected guitar, bass, and drums, to flute, keyboard, and saxophone. Live, they are stunning, managing to deliver their vision with clarity and precision, creating an utterly mesmerizing atmosphere.

The five tracks of “Emergence” don’t provide much cause to call out this bridge or that chorus, this riff or that melody. Yes, the meandering guitar lines in “Tempered” are hypnotic, and the way the keyboard builds urgency and power is superb. Yes, the ability of “The Waking Realm” to be fully engrossing -- in no small part due to its aching build to a fierce black metal crescendo -- over nearly 14 minutes is remarkable. But it’s not about those standout moments, it’s about the holistic experience. If you can truly focus, and block out the nonsense of daily life, you can find yourself utterly lost in this record, ebbing and flowing with the tides that Dreadnought creates.

“Emergence” is greater than the sum of its parts, and it must be appreciated as a whole. Here more than most, the journey matters more than the steps. Place your feet on the path and experience the rapturous possibilities.

https://dreadnoughtdenver.bandcamp.com/album/emergence

“Legend Master” is, in a word, astonishing. It’s so astonishing, in fact, that despite me neglecting it until the very end of my long attempt to digest 2019 releases, and very nearly passing it by, it seized me by my brain stem and immediately rocketed to the top part of this list. It’s that instantly impressive and compelling.

It would be tempting to merely call this doom metal. It most certainly is that, with the melancholy guitar often resembling classic Pallbearer, but there are shadings and layering that make it transcend that label. The riffs are heavy, but the chords vibrate with an otherworldliness that sometimes resemble stonegaze lords True Widow in their prime. But oh! It’s progressive too, as evidenced by a brief section in “The Flight of the Dragonship.” Vocally, Troll is the American Reverend Bizarre, which in itself is high praise. The enigmatically named Rainbo delivers the vocals in a soulful croon that sets him far apart from the fray. There are also vocal similarities to Corrosion of Conformity circa “Deliverance,” which is not my favorite (I prefer Karl Agell’s brief stint on “Blind”) but I hear it and it works.

There’s Reverend Bizarre in the music too, where there’s a certain morose flair that sidles up to the line of goofy or cheesy but never crosses it. Quite the opposite, in fact; the sincerity and depth are undeniable. Then there’s the line of classicism that runs through it all -- classic rock that is. “The Door” has a fuzzy coating on the guitar that wanders into stoner rock territory, and a ‘70s proto-metal spirit that feels seminal and monumental. The guitar work overall feels deeply thoughtful, heartfelt, and awash in blues authenticity. It’s warm and approachable, bathing the eardrums in a soothing tone, while remaining a little melancholy and aloof.

I first heard Troll on their self-titled debut, only after it was reissued by Shadow Kingdom Records in early 2018. Prior to that it was an independent kvlt cassette release that probably never reached more than a handful of people outside their native Portland, OR. This release has hopefully brought them wider attention. If it hasn’t, that is a fucking travesty. “Legend Master” is an emotional powerhouse and this incredible band deserves to be heard and embraced by the metal world at large.

https://trollpdx.bandcamp.com/album/legend-master

Female-fronted doom/psych/occult metal bands are a dime a dozen. I don’t mean to be denigrating about that as I like many, even most of them, that I’ve heard. A sultry female vocal over hazy riffs and thudding drums can be a wonderful thing. But Chicago’s Dead Feathers blow most of their contemporaries out of the (bong)water.

“All Is Lost” has one dominant quality that informs all the others: the production. It has an analog sound that is incredibly warm, but without sounding distinctly dated. There’s a much-vaunted ‘70s character that makes you think you’ve discovered some lost, decades-old gem. But it isn’t totally mired in that either, and when it breaks out some fuzzy stoner riffs, they sound crisp and modern.

That said, credit where credit is due when it comes to the musicians. Marissa Allen’s voice is a silken, smoldering wonder, at times eliciting Natalie Merchant or the Cowboy Junkies’ Margo Timmins.The two guitarists, bassist, and drummer behind her create a swirling mass of burning, psychedelic, bluesy-as-hell rock ‘n’ roll. The ominous, reserved opener “At the Edge” is the perfect intro for “With Me,” so much so that they sound like chapters one and two of the same cohesive song. Allen’s yelps in the latter are completely beguiling and intoxicating. They sound like something that would come out spontaneously in a live session, giving the recording a vibrant, interactive feel.

There is not one track here that is even remotely disappointing. “Cordova” delivers massive room- and consciousness-filling riffs. “Horse and Sands” positively fucking slays, Allen’s vocals pushing with urgency and power against the rollicking rhythm section and blistering guitars. Near its conclusion it goes full desert rock as it approximates Kyuss. Joined with the aforementioned “At the Edge” and “With Me,” the entire first side of the record is magnificent.

Side two brings us the title track, a slow-burning fuzz juggernaut dripping with blues licks. “Darling Sighs” at first plays foil to that, Allen’s range straying into Edie Brickell territory, before the massive, all-encompassing riffs plaster themselves across the soundscape. “Smoking Gun” shows itself to be the bluesiest track of the record, Allen practically vibrating with seductive, rueful wrath. “Not Ours to Own,” which seethes with intensity at times, is the moody finale we need, sinking and fading with a lovely melancholy.

I cannot think of another record that manages to blend classic, lush, retro warmth with modern sensibility to the degree of “All Is Lost.” There is a nearly mystical charm about it that holds up over countless listens. In a clogged genre, this exquisite album is a beacon on the horizon of a cluttered psychedelic landscape.

https://ripplemusic.bandcamp.com/album/all-is-lost

As much as I love black metal, I readily admit that there isn’t a lot of freshness to be found there these days. Vibrancy, intensity, atmosphere -- sure; but it’s a rare album that manages to both utilize the tropes while crushing them and sweeping them aside. In 2019, such an album came to us from the kvlt California entity Murk Rider.

First, this is well and truly a kvlt record, still available only in digital format despite the band’s intent to do a deluxe cassette release. CD would also be an option, but vinyl is right out of the question. Why? The massive song lengths. “Exile of Shadows” spans three songs over an enormous one hour and 19 minutes. Few albums approach such a length in the first place, and fewer still do it by making individual tracks approaching or reaching 30 minutes. With one side of a vinyl really being able to accomodate no more than 25 minutes of material, this ambitious crew has rendered that option moot.

At first blush (an especially relative phrase here), one might take the opening moments of “Descent,” and thus the album as a whole, as fairly standard stuff. Wilderness sounds, loons, crackling flames, and a creaking rope set the stage for some kind of Cascadian black metal adventure, as does the Agalloch-like acoustic guitar that follows. Things turn aggressive and take on more of a Weakling-meets-Krallice approach, technical and precise, but not wanky. But as the halfway mark (nine or so minutes into this 21-minute “short” track) nears, there is a distinct shift in tone and style. Bass guitar -- that much-ignored and buried part of the traditional black metal formula -- floats to the top and leads a bridge to the next section. It feels at once progressive, fun/funky, and dare I say even whimsical. This shift heralds what will become clear as the minutes march on: that this is not your average black metal album. A sudden melodic section utilizes -- gasp! -- major chords. The song descends into raging darkness thereafter, but a declaration has been made that convention shall be ignored. Bass rises to the forefront yet again, and the piercing tremolo melodies in the latter moments, while not “happy” per se, have a frivolity about them.

“Journey,” after a brief intro, is subsumed by furious black metal that would have you thinking you’re back in fairly standard territory. It turns quiet and introspective for a time before employing some bombast more akin to old Isis or Cult of Luna. Then those wriggling bass lines appear again, teasing and frolicking in the background, even as the speedometer needle rises. More major chords appear, and the melodic backdrop to cries of “Prometheus rising!” is genuinely uplifting. Lilting female vocals are utilized on this track, and while there’s nothing new about that, they are very effective in their own right. Later, some prominent and funky basswork builds up to one of my favorite moments of the entire record. The track pauses, takes a breath, and hits with some scaled tremolo melodies punctuated by three varying percussive outbursts. The last of them is a blinding, rapid-fire double-bass and cymbal assault that’s so fast as to seem inhuman. It’s amazing, fun, and leaves me giddy every time. The melodic and ripping crescendo that follows is superb, with the notes again defying darkness and gloom and sparkling like sunlight on ocean waves. It winds down by bucking convention once again and introducing horns, as if announcing the arrival of a king.

We’ve descended, we’ve journeyed, and now we “Return” for the final chapter of this saga. This track’s early moments grow increasingly spacey and ambient, leaving you feeling like you’re floating through the cosmos. Vocals and guitar fade out completely, leaving only a wash of keyboards, then fade back in. A mesmerizing spoken-word section assists this dreamy lull, but at 9:20 the track explodes into searing Cascadian black metal with the kind of chord progression that is the absolute zenith of this style: morose but epic and utterly enrapturing. It’s a moment of pure ecstasy. Refusing to let even this passage go unchallenged, that mischievous bass pops its head up again, and the bright melody line that follows throws cans of vivid primary colors all over the sonic canvas. By all rights, these bold actions should ruin the overall effect, but they only bolster it. That is the magic and the genius of Murk Rider. After tearing through several powerful, vicious minutes, with more dazzling displays of double bass, the song climaxes with anthemic shouts of “To the temple in the sky!” The final minutes alternate between repeating the lines “The circle is life” and “The circle is death,” coalescing this bold and daring work into the very fabric of the cycle of existence. As too does the final subsidence into the sound of falling rain, then the same crackling flames that opened the album. The cycle is complete.

“Exile of Shadows” is a spellbinding triumph. It is legitimately exciting and progressive within the genre. It makes black metal new again by honoring it, yet seeming to poke fun at it and laugh at it. It violates the rules while remaining true to the spirit, and it seems pretty clear that it gives zero fucks about what the old schoolers might think about that.

https://murk-rider.bandcamp.com/album/exile-of-shadows