(Andy Synn puts the debut album from New York weirdniks Frogg under the microscope)
Metal, as we all know, is a serious business for serious people.
And what could be more serious than a colossal cosmic amphibian attempting to devour the moon?
Honestly, it kind of puts all our common, everyday concerns into perspective, doesn’t it?
(What sort of difference does a name make? Andy Synn sets out to find out!)
Hands up… how many of you have heard of Danish existential extremists Kollapse?
Well, this is not that band.
How about Swedish Post-Metal noisemongers Kollaps\e?
Well, it turns out that the latter group, in an effort to differentiate themselves further from their fellow Nordic neighbours just across the water (who, in fairness, did have the name first), recently re-branded themselves as K L P S (still pronounced the same way) and decided that the best way to celebrate his new era was with a brand-new, self-titled album.
All of which begs the question, does a rose band by any other name still smell sound as sweet?
(Andy Synn does his best to let the light in… let’s see what it reveals, shall we?)
I think it was pretty much the day I started writing here that I began chipping away at the whole “no clean singing” thing here at NCS.
Granted, it was always more of a tongue-in-cheek statement, rather than a strict edict, as the site had been featuring bands with various forms of clean singing, off and on, well before I got here.
But I’ve definitely been responsible for bringing a fair number of bands – bands with nary a hint of harsh vocals in their sound – to the site that probably wouldn’t have been covered here otherwise.
And since I was the one to first bring Doom-Pop/Dream-Gaze quartet SOM to the site’s attention – first with my review of their debut album, The Fall, followed by my write-up of their stunning second album, The Shape of Everything (which also made it into my Critical Top Ten of 2022) – it only seems fitting that I continue to make a mockery of everything we stand for by sharing my thoughts on their upcoming third album, Let The Light In (out next week on Pelagic Records).
(Andy Synn highlights four albums from a very busy February which you may have overlooked)
I don’t mind admitting that, due to a lot of different factors – being busy at work, having to spend time prepping and then playing with the band, and then finally succumbing to this really shitty flu (to the point where I’m still not back to 100%, to be honest) – I missed a lot of stuff I originally intended to write about last month.
To exacerbate this, there’s only a limited amount of space (and time) I have here to catch up on what I/we missed, which means the likes of Grima (really good, but perhaps not quite as good as its predecessor), Havukruunu (bombastic blood and fire heroics at their best), and Mantar (a punkier, more stripped-down album than their last one, albeit with a few tracks/riffs that sound a little too familiar in places), probably aren’t going to get the full write-ups that they deserve.
But, you know, those are pretty big names – or, at least, pretty notorious in our little scene – and if there’s one thing we’re known for here at NCS it’s focussing on less (in)famous bands wherever possible, so hopefully you won’t begrudge me my choices for this month’s column!
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(Andy Synn is as shocked as anyone at how good, and how heavy, the new album from Whitechapel is)
As someone who considers themselves a long-time fan of Whitechapel it wasn’t until I picked up the promo for their upcoming ninth(!) album, Hymns in Dissonance, that I realised I’ve been more of a lapsed fan of the band for even longer.
Truth be told, the last time I enjoyed a Whitechapel album front-to-back was their 2012 self-titled record (still my favourite out of everything they’ve done, though I’ll happily entertain any arguments in support of 2010’s absolutely monstrous A New Era of Corruption), and although I’ve given every subsequent release a shot – from the lazy Slipknot-isms of Our Endless War and The Mark of the Blade (arguably the lowest point, creatively speaking, point in the band’s career) to the increasingly popular, but also increasingly generic, sounds of The Valley and Kin – it’s largely felt like the past decade or so has been all about doing whatever it takes to maximise the band’s popularity, at the cost of what originally drew me to them in the first place.
And, look, I get why so many people like the latter two albums – Bozeman has a great singing voice, no doubt, and it’s clear how much effort he’s put into expressing the necessary emotion and processing his trauma on each record – but so much of their recent music has just been so aggressively bland (and, on the occasion where it actually does show some teeth, so blandly aggressive) that I can’t help but feel disappointed in them for continually playing things so safe.
Which is why Hymns in Dissonance is such a revelation – because I don’t think anyone out there expected them to go this hard, or this heavy, ever again.
Recommended for fans of: Employed to Serve, Fit For An Autopsy, Knocked Loose
Despite their steadily growing profile over the years, this is the first time we’re actually writing about Boston-based bruisers Great American Ghost here at NCS (though their 2022 EP, Torture World did get a small mention in my end of year round-up at the time) so a quick introduction may be necessary before we go any further.
Equally influenced by seminal Hardcore acts like American Nightmare, The Hope Conspiracy, and Vision of Disorder as they are living Metal legends like Meshuggah, Gojira, and Fear Factory, the group’s sound has slowly shifted over the years, moving from the rougher, rawer approach of their debut album, Everyone Leaves, through the increasingly heavier and more metallic sounds explored on Hatred Stems from the Seed and Power Through Terror, to the even bigger and more bombastic tones of their most recent record, Tragedy of the Commons (which was released just last month).
So if any of that sounds appealing (and I’m hoping it does) then get ready to discover your new favourite band!
(Andy Synn suggests three more short but sweet musical morsels for you to sink your teeth into)
What is it that they say about the best laid plans?
Some of you may have noticed a bit of a disruption to our regular publication schedule here at NCS this week, and that’s due to the fact that Islander is currently without power or internet where he lives and I’m dealing with a really nasty case of the flu that’s making it very difficult for me to function.
Rest assured, normal operations will be resumed at some point… but, until then, hopefully this little round-up of some recent EPs will keep you occupied and entertained.
(Andy Synn bows down before the new album from Light Dweller, out this Friday on Avantgarde Music)
It’s pretty well documented by now that, generally, I prefer “bands” over solo projects.
There’s just something about the magic that happens when you get a group of musicians together and they start to bounce ideas off of each other, introducing an element of randomness and quantum chaos as they feed on each other’s energy, which seems to produce (in my opinion anyway) more interesting results.
But the work of Cameron Boesch, aka Light Dweller, has always been an exception to this particular “rule”, as he’s developed such a distinctive creative voice over the years weaving together bits and pieces of Immolation and Ulcerate, Krallice and Gorguts, and beyond, that there’s never any fear of his work falling afoul of stock tropes and standard clichés.
2022’s Lucid Offering in particular stood out as easily his magnum opus, striking a brilliant balance between atmosphere and dissonance, introspection and aggression, that was always going to be hard enough to replicate, let alone surpass.
Which I suppose begs the question… what do you do when you’ve reached the top of your particular, personal mountain? Where the heck do you go from there?
(Andy Synn has a busy week, but had just enough time to write about Cross Bringer‘s new album)
It’s funny how things sometimes line up, isn’t it?
Case in point, just as last week I had no prior intention of writing about three killer Death Metal albums in a row – it just happened that way – this week I’ve ended up writing about not just one, but two Black Metal/Hardcore crossover outfits.
But although the Blackened Metalcore of Bleeding Through and the crustier, punkier sound of Cross Bringer certainly possess a few superficially similar features those similarities are rarely more than skin deep, with the former obviously opting for a more polished (these days, anyway) and cinematic sound while the latter keeps things that little bit rougher and gnarlier, and derives its darkness not from sinister symphonics but from layers of rough-textured distortion and ragged, raw-boned emotion.
Anyway, seeing as how this will probably be the last thing I write/publish this week (I’ve got a short run of shows with my own band I need to focus on) let’s not waste any more time and dive right in to see what Healismus Aeternus has to offer, shall we?
(Andy Synn continues his murderous, on-off, love affair with OC Metalcore crew Bleeding Through)
It’s entirely appropriate that the cover for Bleeding Through‘s new album features a solitary figure standing at a crossroads… because that’s pretty much where Bleeding Through have stood their entire career.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been a fan of the band for a long time – I think it was their seminal second album, Portrait of the Goddess, which first brought them to my attention, right before they had their big breakthrough with 2003’s This Is Love, This Is Murderous – but that doesn’t mean I’m blind to their flaws.
In particular they’ve always seemed torn between two competing urges – whether to double down on the more blisteringly aggressive and abrasively “blackened” side of their sound (as they did to such great effect prior to their hiatus with their 2010 self-titled and 2012’s blazing The Great Fire) or to take the poppier (and, inevitably, more popular) path by following in the footsteps of some of their more radio-friendly peers (as they did in the aftermath of This Is Love…’s unexpected success).
Their 2018 comeback album, Love Will Kill All found them trying to split the difference (which, to be clear, doesn’t have to be a bad thing) but ultimately resulted in a rather compromised record that didn’t leave much of an impression, and since then the only real insight into the band’s musical direction has been 2022’s Rage EP… all of which means there’s a lot of questions, and a lot of expectations, to be answered by NINE.