Even today, though, if you asked a random sample of people, you’d probably get a fair consensus that, yeah, heavy metal is wild at its core. But… is it? Is it always? What even does it mean, musically, to be wild? Because I don’t think it’s as easily quantifiable as something that’s fast, or aggressive, or raw. It’s probably not even quite right to say that everyone coming into the space of heavy metal since its feral beginnings is chasing that same wild fire. You might argue that we all should be, but the motivations for making art are as diverse and sometimes inexplicable as the effect of art. And to be truthful, friend? I don’t honestly have wildness in my heart. I’m lucky enough to be able to prioritize (and enjoy) things like comfort, routine, structure, safety.

Do you ever think about wildness? It seems to me there are a lot of people out there these days – many of them Men On The Internet who seem to be hawking, I don’t know, moose testicle protein powder and unearned expertise – who want to sell you an idea of wildness as some kind of exclusively masculine birthright apparently in need of reclamation. But there’s also a much longer tradition – far older and more interesting than these brittle, sad children – that links wildness with nature and the feminine. Of course, there’s a strand of that tradition that looks at nature, wildness, and femininity as things inherently in conflict with civilization, order, and masculinity, and just as with any binary system humans have yet dreamed up, it became a tool of oppression. But many pagan traditions looked at the idea of wildness in the light of fertility, fecundity, and creation.

To get a sense of which side might have gained the advantage in how we perceive wildness, consider how thoroughly our synonyms for it are negative. I don’t mean positive and negative as in good or bad, but rather positive as “a thing which something is” and negative as “a thing which something is not.” That skew is easy to find in alternate descriptions of “wild,” because so many of them frame the word as the opposite (or negative) of some other trait: to be wild is to be untamed, uncivilized, undomesticated, unruly, unrestrained. To bring things back to Egregore (“Thank fuck,” scream the blessedly patient hecklers in the back row), the reason that It Echoes in the Wild has lit an absolute fire in me every time I listen to it is that it feels like an album possessed of an absolutely positive conception of wildness.

Vancouver’s Egregore boasts members who have spent lots of time together in other bands including Mitochondrion, Auroch, and Ruinous Power. After the “duo plus guests” approach of 2022’s debut The Word of His Law, on album number two, Egregore has expanded to a permanent three-piece, with Shawn Haché on drums, lead vocals, and acoustic guitars, Sebastian Montesi on lead guitars, vocals, acoustic guitars, and synth, and Phil Fiess on bass and vocals. They are also joined by a stacked roster of guests, including additional lead guitar from Dylan Atkinson (who has spent time in Amphisbaena, Antediluvian, Rites of Thy Degringolade, and Weapon). 

Despite the fairly tight stylistic Venn diagram of a lot of those associated bands, Egregore’s style is not easily reducible to any single thing. Certainly the most prevalent elements are drawn from black metal, death metal, and thrash, but this leaves all sorts of recombinant sequences where things fly off into moods covering black/thrash, prog death, shred, death/thrash, atmospheric death metal, bestial black metal, techy melodic thrash, and plenty more. My busted old ears pick up on bits of Absu, Morbid Angel, Aura Noir, Deceased, Voivod, Atheist, Abhorration, Khthoniik Cerviiks, Show No Mercy-era Slayer, and plenty more, but surely yours will hear other things. The most important thing, therefore, is the wild energy with which these songs consistently leap and lash. Each song is always in motion, propelled forward by Haché’s loose-limbed drumming and guitars that seem exclusively interested in doing the best shit constantly.

You know how Dark Angel’s Time Does Not Heal famously came with a hype sticker promising “9 songs, 67 minutes, 246 riffs”? If you want an easier way into Egregore than the treatise linking St. Augustine’s foundational dualism in The City of God Against the Pagans that I had initially planned to dump in this paragraph, please believe that It Echoes in the Wild is a wonderful place to be when you want to get in on that Dark Angel vibe and hear an abundance of guitars doing things that are fucking sweet.

“Six Doors Guard the Original Knowledges” has a slinky, Eastern-tinged theme that recurs, but while the guitars lead the action, the bass bends and swerves with the poised threat of a drunken giant. “Craven Acts of Desperate Men” features some pitch-perfect King Diamond vocal extravagance, but even better is the wild switch-up they pull starting at the 4:03 mark, in the super active bass that doubles the guitar but then later launches off down its own unruly corridors. “From the Yawning Crevasse” brings some of those early Atheist vibes (especially in the vocals), and at times like this when Egregore leans a bit more tech/prog death, it can feel a little like if last year’s tremendous Species album (Changelings) got totally Nuclear War Now!-ified.

Each song here has insane chops, memorable moments, and rickety, often barely-holding-on energy, but one of the ways Egregore really taps into what feels like a positive, generative wildness is in its multiplicity of voices. Each of the three band members supplies vocals (plus additional vocals from Auroch’s Cuillen Sander), so although this is a very lyrically dense album (both in the content of the words but also the amount of musical time that includes vocals), the fact that the tones and cadences are switched up so frequently makes it feel less like a stultifying lecture and more like a restless collective interested in attack, attack, attack. This holds true for the guitarwork as well, which moves through a dizzying array of moods, rhythms, and elaborate counterpoints – yet none of this complexity detracts from the songness of each piece. To me, this is a particularly thrilling part of Egregore’s wildness, because it posits wildness in community, rather than the self-defeating, macho, lone wolf horseshit more broadly in currency these days.

“Servants of the Second Death” sneaks in a little bit of tricky disco shimmy in the drums, but when it switches into a more restrained pacing around the halfway mark, the rest of the song is absolutely littered with some of the album’s most soulful, expressive soloing and guitar leads. Elsewhere, “Nightmare Cartographer” leads straight into “Six Doors Guard the Original Knowledges” so seamlessly that it is truthfully awe-inspiring.

And even from the start, Egregore is not shy about telling you where they are planning to go, given how the album’s first proper song (“Voice on the West Wind”) whips up such an utter shitstorm immediately that it’s hard not to just let yourself be buffeted by the album’s beatific vehemence for its entire 48 minutes. That opening tune also carries the subtitle “Odyssey as the Great Work,” which highlights another fact that makes It Echoes in the Wild such a front-to-back triumph: the lyrics. The final chorus is a poetic reflection on the wanderings of Odysseus, but it also notably brings things back to a vision of wildness as the creative pursuit of uncertainty:

“There is no glass to harness the hours;
There is no compass with which to measure;
There is no chart to harness the stars;
There is no map with which to reveal.

The path is within this task of will and sin.
The voice on the wind; this great work begins.”

Friend, if that doesn’t give you at least a minor case of the “fuck yes”es, then you and I are rowing down different rivers. Following along to the album with its lyric sheet adds such a layer of, well, just plain fun, because the lads of Egregore are clearly literate as balls but also deeply in love with the idea of play (which is a rarity in this general area of heavy metal that more often tries to present itself as “no mosh, no core, no ice cream, no smiling”). Like, check this opening salvo on “From the Yawning Crevasse”:

“Scythian stripped at the teetering Tridecennial,
Cast chthonically in a gesture nearly final.
Reaping will fulfilled as basic rites are shunned,
trajectory unseen t’ward a peristaltic plunge.”

No, of course I don’t know what they’re talking about either, but goddamn do I want to join that wordplay party. Not only is the band invested in these rich, gleefully verbose lyrics, but they are also expert at the skill of deploying their lyrics as yet another element of pure sound, both in rhyming wordplay as well as how often the vocal lines are used to provide extra punctuation or counterpoint to the song’s rhythms. “Nightmare Cartographer” offers maybe the best example with this delicious couplet:

“Unknowing nous gnosis in non-knowledge expounds /
Within preternatura, the only secret is found.”

On the dead page, of course, that reads like absurdity, but when the band hits you with those lines in a thrashy, ear-catching cadence that drips with bile and spittle, the words come alive and feel like a truth you can neither articulate nor deny. But even for those of you out there, dearest neighbors and cousins and strangers, who couldn’t give three-tenths of a thesaurus-hammered shit about what Egregore might be jawing about, the band brings it home for you in the truest way, the only way: bulletproof songs that manage the delicate feat of telegraphing their perfect architecture while also sounding, at nearly every moment, as if the glittering shards of ore in each primordial vein they’ve tapped are being shaped extemporaneously as you listen, like a road whose every square foot and speck of asphalt solidifies just as you grind it beneath your hellion wheels; like a liquid-metal kiln fired by the unquenchable pyres of creation.

I think I’ve probably listened to It Echoes in the Wild a dozen times and I still don’t quite feel like I have my hands around it. In many other circumstances this might be a rhetorical move I pull to avoid outright criticism of an album with interesting pieces but which doesn’t seem to have the compositional acumen or raw heart to really stick to the ribs. In Egregore’s music, though, the live-wire blood and sinew of its wildness creates a disorienting effect where each perfectly mappable song also contains a spark that cannot be fully quantified. Take, for example, the final two-minute stretch of the title track which closes out the album: it jumps into a gleaming, incantatory mode that is as triumphant as daybreak, cycling through a beautiful clean-sung choral melody that opens with a line that adapts the inscription at the entrance to Hell in Dante’s Inferno in a way that might hold the key to the entire album.

“Abandon hope and fear / All you who enter here.”

Earlier in the same song, Egregore has already answered the unspoken question posed by the album’s title when they give us the message:

“The ancients speak, their voices all around.
Listen close: it echoes in the wild.”

Come, friend: let’s be wild together.

The post Egregore – It Echoes In The Wild Review appeared first on Last Rites.

Earlier this year, I finally grabbed the limited edition CD reissues of the early works from Montréal, Canada’s very excellent Obliveon—one of those oft-overlooked projects that arrived somewhat late for thrash’s heyday, but the band mixed in elements of death metal and twisted the songwriting enough to result in something that sounded fresh without losing sight of the greats that landed tech thrash on the map in the first place. You know, classics such as the following opening five across the lip:

» Watchtower – Energetic Disassembly (1985)
» Mekong Delta – S/T (1987)
» Nasty Savage – Indulgence (1987)
» Coroner – R.I.P. (1987)
» Destruction – Release from Agony (1987)

Blessed be, we of the metal faith are pedantic creatures, and if you, like me, are equally appreciative of the art of persnicketyism, perhaps you will also appreciate the following breakdown I unearthed in a truly scholastic Reddit metal thread that I believe should perhaps become canon:

“A progressive band of any genre is trying to push the boundaries of said genre, whereas a technical band is trying to take the defining characteristics of a genre and perfect them to an almost inhuman level.”

Now, can a progressive thrash band exist without being tech? You bet! See very early Skyclad. Can a tech thrash album exist without being progressive? Also yep! Rust In Peace.

“BUT WHAT ABOUT PROGRESSIVE TECH THRASH, SHARTYPANTS,” howled a long-haired galoot from the balcony.

Ahhh, now we’re getting somewhere, Magellan!

~~Poland’s Species lowers to the stage via an elegant system of pulleys & lift lines~~

Before moving forward: I have no recollection of how or why Last Rites allowed To Find Deliverance, the Species debut full-length from 2022, to fall through the cracks, but it did at least manage to work its way onto the year-end list of one crew member: Zach Duvall. The album probably should have made a bigger splash with the collective, though, as we are largely obsessed with bands that competently bend the rules inside most every branch of metal. Let’s just chalk it up to either a lack of an advanced promo, or… you know… just being generally overwhelmed by the sheer volume of new music every year.

Right. So, Species is one of those increasingly rare bands that came right out of the chute with a level of proficiency that made it seem likely the trio played together long before finally deciding to lay something down in a proper studio—maybe as far back as the sandbox years. Their opening EP, 2019’s The Monument of Envy, was fittingly the most raw display of their technical ability, and To Find Deliverance did a wonderful job of leveling up from most every conceivable angle, as is tradition.

Now, with full-length number two, Species finds the next logical step that highlights a production upgrade and an increased emphasis on the more progressive end of the equation. As an example, the debut LP did a fine job of introducing the idea of funkiness to their tech thrash blueprint, whereas Changelings incorporates it to a point where the listener wants to lift those measure into the spotlight shouting, “YOU SEE, THIS IS HOW YOU GET AWAY WITH SUCH MADNESS.” It’s not at all a constant presence, though, so don’t think of it as some sort of off-handed homage to, say, Faith No More in a Mordred / Scatterbrain sort of way, but rather a tip of the hat to weirdos like Carbonized, Disharmonic Orchestra or—here’s one for the gutterpunks—G-Anx that found ways to be funky without beating you over the head with one of Bootsy’s incredibly colorful top hats. Take a listen to “Born of Stitch and Flesh”—what I consider to be one of the best songs on the record—to get a good idea of all the twisting and turning and moderate bass slapping Species is capable of pulling off with gusto:

“Born of Stitch” comes out of the gate with a very Mental Vortex-ish sort of vibe, fully embracing that moderately sinister atmosphere Coroner was so good at encouraging, and this is quickly followed by Species slyly folding in some moderately funky Fishbone bass slaps that SOMEHOW manage to slide in perfectly alongside that calm moodiness. By hell, this band is quite good at being fairly subtle with their progressive face, and moments such as this bear witness to that truth. Then… the tune just flies and twists and turns. Bassist / vocalist Piotr Drobina has a notably penetrating singing style that could very well challenge those sensitive to such things, but to me he sounds a lot like Tim Baker of Cirith Ungol on the edge of his seat doing everything in his power to pass a hurtling Toad in one hell of a Mario Kart race. (No, I have not been drinking.) Drobina also happens to be a hell of a bass player, and he really gets an opportunity to shine on this cut by dropping a sweet little solo amidst the mellow stretch just after the 3-minute mark.

While it’s fun to witness Species stretch their legs a bit more in 2025 (those already familiar with them might be surprised to hear clean vocals in the thick of the mellowness of “Waves of Time”), the band’s ultimate advantage relates to the manner in which the three players play off one another so pleasantly, imaginatively and seamlessly. You hear everyone pretty much at all times here as they wander, jump and fly around together, and Changelings continues to uphold that ‘live in the studio’ feel that heightens the organic sense of connection between each player. In essence, Species is a very charming three-headed hydra, and despite the clear adventurousness of these perfectly succinct 40 minutes, there’s very little reliance on bells & whistles beyond a guest synthesizer role (Chris Scanner of Aquilla) on the instrumental “Voyager.” So, yes, it’s quite nice to experience progressive technical thrash that never manages to come across as overly showy or self-aggrandizing. Bottom line, Changelings is just FUN thrash that’s not at all ‘pizza thrash’, and that’s crucial to the album’s success.

Given all the above, do I feel confident enough in the strength of Changelings to consider it worthy of cracking a tech thrash all-time top 50 list? Honestly, I don’t think ANY album with less than five years of life under its belt is ready for that level of benevolence, especially considering the strength and depth of what’s paved the way. For sure, though, if you count yourself a fan of the modern movement that includes heavy hitters such as Bestial Invasion, Droid, Cryptic Shift, Xoth and Dissimulator, and certainly classics along the lines of Sadus, Aspid, Vendetta (Brain Damage), Hellwitch, etc. in perpetuity, you should absolutely be sure to give Changelings a run the moment it drops.

P.S. Sweet Magnum P.I. gear, lads. Not sure how Higgins will react to you cranking Twisted Into Form in that Ferrari, though.

Photo by Tomasz K Pka

The post Species – Changelings Review appeared first on Last Rites.

Bands often telegraph when significant shifts in their sound are imminent. No one who truly paid attention to Ghost Reveries and Watershed was particularly shocked by the full dive into 70’s prog that Opeth would take with Heritage. Folks listening to Hidden History Of The Human Race and Timewave Zero weren’t only not surprised by Blood Incantation merging their prog and death metal influences into lengthy tracks, they were actively hoping for it. The substantial amount of classic prog in Bedsore’s sophomore album, however, is a rather wild departure from debut Hypnagogic Hallucinations. Sure, that album is absolutely a progressive death metal album, but more so in the way of having open-space passages that create a dark atmosphere and some noodly parts rather than knocking the listener over the head with Hammond organs. The synths used on “Cauliflower Growth” simply gave the doomy proceedings a greater ominous tone. The biggest hint was the opening track, which the band directly labeled as an intro. Such songs are often considered outliers to set a tone rather than a harbinger of what’s to come for future releases. The 16-minute beast Bedsore contributed to their split with Mortal Incarnation certainly gets closer with a bopping opening and a brief synth part that sounds like an evil seventh-inning stretch, but most of its proggy bits land more in the Dødheimsgard book of space weirdness, while the rest of the song spends the majority of its time in more aggressive metal territory. Much like intro tracks, splits and EPs are often used to let bands stretch their wings a bit and aren’t reliable signals for where a band intends to go. Dreaming the Strife for Love is such barrel roll into capital P Prog that another of our LR writers rightfully posed the following question, “Would we even consider this a metal album if it weren’t for the vocals?” I say yes, but arguing about whether this should be considered a Heavy Prog album or a Heavy Metal album is sort of splitting hairs.

The 11-minute centerpiece that is “A Colossus, an Elephant, a Winged Horse; the Dragon Rendezvous” (yes, I know that sounds like the start of a bad pun joke) does an exceptional job of seamlessly integrating all of Bedsore’s influences. The rumbling, dark intro uses some big drum hits that give it a timpani bombast before the synths and keys come in to give the song an air of symphonic black metal that includes a mini guitar lead emitting wistful tones in the night. There are stretches where the song shreds tremolo guitar lines and blasts the drums apart while still managing to make a transition into a John Carpenter-style synth section, which somehow manages to seem natural. It even has a funky prog passage reminiscent of “Lotus Eater.” The metal and prog nerd elements that seem so disparate are so effectively fused here that nothing seems out of place or awkward. Similarly, lead single “Realm of Eleuterillide” offers another twist as it gets downright jazzy around the two-minute mark but props that against a big burly section that sounds like it should back the climbing of a massive demon out of a hole to hell. The most “fun” track comes late on the album in the form of the relatively brief “Fanfare for a Heartfelt Love,” which starts with big organ notes that could soundtrack a Castlevania game before the synths kick in, and all of a sudden, you feel more like watching Flash Gordon.

Ultimately, another band fusing death metal and 70’s prog is going to see Dreaming the Strife for Love end up being compared to Absolute Elsewhere. Both are excellent but take a very different approach to bringing these styles together. Blood Incantation more directly nods at their progressive influences while sectioning out the different styles. Their songs more often follow the pattern of ‘here’s the Hällas part’, ‘here’s the death metal part’, ‘here’s the Pink Floyd part’, and so on and so forth. Bedsore has added their fingerprints to the styles of their heroes, creating an interpretation that feels more their own while readily intermingling all the elements of their songs so that the death metal parts might still be fused with the prog bits. The saxophone can sit behind the guitars for a stretch before blasting to the forefront for a brief second. The organs can support the drums to make their blasts hit harder. The bass can keep the keyboards still feeling heavy.

Recommending this album is sort of an odd endeavor with that in mind. If you dig the newest Blood Incantation, there’s no reason not to give this a shot. On the other hand, if the lack of flow in the new Blood Incantation turned you away, you should also give this a shot, as it provides a remedy to that woe. If you’re simply a prog nerd who also enjoys metal, this should absolutely be on your list to check out. Oddly enough, the trickiest recommendation is telling fans of Bedsore’s debut to listen to this. If you’re a fan of a band, you should always listen to their newest output, but this one is so different that it won’t at all be surprising if a portion of their followers jump ship. Hopefully, though, enough prog dorks like me will get their ears on it and more than makeup for those not interested in the path of the nerd.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering what level of Prog Nerd we’re talking about, this is the current band photo:

The post Bedsore – Dreaming The Strife For Love Review appeared first on Last Rites.

Prolificacy is an oft-lauded trait for bands in the metal world. We are constant consumers on the lookout for more tasty morsels to glut our filthy musical maws, so bands that regularly throw scraps out to satiate us are given special attention. Once upon a time, the pressure of record labels forced a steady album cycle on most bands, requiring them to be more prolific than they were probably prepared for. The modern day often allows bands to have better control over when and if they write, meaning we should applaud those that take their time equally as we do those that can crank out fresh material annually.

Album opener “Bioluminescent Toxins” exhibits the group’s patience quite well. The song starts with slow, ominous notes that morph into a woozy doomy riff. As the guitar line speeds up it becomes more angular. Eventually, that riff is sped up into a slicing, whirling tremolo assault. After one of the most rollicking drum sections of the entire album, the song cuts into a somber and quiet stretch that sees vocalist Rae Amitay break out some haunting clean singing. Just as you think the song is concluding on that clean segment, it smashes the listener over the head with a brick of a simply heavy as hell closing passage. The song patiently builds but doesn’t overstay its welcome considering the runtime is under six minutes.

The song exemplifies so well what makes Immortal Bird stand out among their peers. Amitay proves she is willing to try new things with her voice. Later on, she even fires off some hardcore-style shouts on “Ocean Endless” to spice things up among her usual vicious snarl. Nate Madden takes on bass in addition to his guitar playing on this album but shows that double-duty does not hinder his ability to create varied and fantastic riffs. The opener has a killer blend of sludge, black and death metal swinging in and out of it. While those two players are absolutely holding their own on the recording, Matt Korajczyk’s drums are the star of Sin Querencia. That near minute of relentless rolling and fills in the opener is a more obvious bright spot, but he readily changes up his style and approach to suit the songs throughout. He can blast away to create a full-on rhythmic battering in “Plastered Sainthood,” unleash an unwieldy sense of chaos by flailing across the whole kit on “Ocean Endless,” dip into a simple D-beat on “Propagandized,” or let steady kicks and slick cymbal work rule the roost on “Contrarian Companions.”

Just as Korajczyk’s drumming is exceptionally varied and poignant, so too are the riffs and influences that peek through each song. The band’s careful mind also shows through the album’s well-ordered sequence. That simple, crusty assault on “Propagandized” feels like a song made for picking fights but follows “Consanguinity,” which has an aggressive plodding attack, not unlike Primitive Man, and then throws in an unnerving atonal riff that feels strange and possessed of an evil spirit. “Propagandized” is also followed by “Ocean Endless,” which opens with a big dramatic black metal riff but also has a section that could fit on a Converge record. Want a few more reference points that pop in? The opening to “Synthentic Alliances” leans into discordance and comes across like a slowed down Ulcerate guitar line. There are also two different passages that call to mind Meshuggah. “Consanguinity” has a scribbling riff that ascends and then descends back down, creating a suffocating feeling like something off of Catch-33. “Ocean Endless,” on the other hand, has a fast-paced, repeated and off-kilter chug like the opening of I.

While all of these influences and styles come together, what makes it all the more impressive is that the album always sounds and feels like Immortal Bird. The band has clearly continued to push what they do but nothing here feels out of place or like their forcing variety of the sake of having variety. Even among all the oddities and new tricks, tracks like “Contrarian Companions” is a classic Immortal Bird song through and through with its blasting notes, big riffs and ability to feel pretty, somber and hostile all at once. The band is careful to retain their origins while experimenting.

With album number three, Immortal Bird’s patience and care for writing has absolutely paid off. Sin Querencia is easily their best album to date and fans of the band won’t be disappointed.

The post Immortal Bird – Sin Querencia Review appeared first on Last Rites.

If it walks like a duck…quacks like a duck…and riffs(?) like a duck… it’s probably…

Fulci!

Born June 17, 1927, in Rome, Italy, Lucio Fulci spent 69 years on this Earth but left an eternal blood mark on the spirit of horror cinema. Fulci became synonymous with pushing the boundaries of the genre—which occasionally led to his films being outlawed in various areas around the globe—but simultaneously gained a substantial cult following. From the iconic “Gates of Hell” trilogy, including City of the Living Dead, The Beyond, and The House by the Cemetery, to the iconic Zombi 2 and today’s topic of discussion, The New York Ripper, Fulci’s depictions of violence and terror were unmatched. Viewer discretion is advised for newcomers to The Godfather of Gore’s universe.

What makes each Fulci album unique is how they capture the essence of what made the Godfather of Gore’s movies so memorable. Sampling scenes and dialogue from his pictures, these Fulci albums create the same unnerving and grotesque atmosphere as their respective films. Of course, you’ll catch similar vibes to those early Mortician albums, which might be one of the more common assessments for the project. If Duck Face Killings happens to be your introduction to Fulci, think of it as a score within a score, essentially starting with “Vile Butchery” setting the tone with an exposition scene from The New York Ripper before being hammered with Diego’s Dying Fetus-inspired riffage, which pops up again on songs like “Morbid Lust” and “Maniac Unleashed.” There are also nods to early Cannibal Corpse, most notably with an homage to “Hammer Smashed Face” on “Rotten Apple.”

But where the record truly separates itself from many horror movie-themed death metal bands is the ability to hit each of the five senses. Much like The New York Ripper film, you can hear, taste, smell, see, and touch the grimness. Like a toxic, purple smog rolling in under New York streetlights, Duck Face Killings prowls for roughly a half-hour. Again, much of that comes down to the sampling and synths (courtesy of TV-CRIMES, Dressel Amorosi, and Giacomo Carloni), but there’s a touch to those moments and their positioning within the album that adds depth. Look no further than the “A Blade in the Dark” and “Lo Squartatore” interludes. And while it lurks in the shadows, the album is also pummeling, specifically on the brutal death metal standout “Human Scalp Collection,” featuring none other than Wood of Skinless, which would fit on something like Trample the Weak, Hurdle the Dead. Then, there are slam moments, for example, on the title track. In the coolest way possible, it’s like being beaten over the head continuously with a pillowcase filled with rubber ducks.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention a moment that will undoubtedly stick out: “Knife.” It features a few bars from Lord Goat of the hip-hop group Non Phixion before diving into some more atmospheric death metal. As a lifelong fan of the hip-hop genre, I must say I’m not always the most enormous enthusiast when it comes to the genres meshing, but this was done quite well. There’s also the saxophone on “II Miele Del Diavolo,” courtesy of Mario Luce. Each of these moments is memorable for all the right reasons. They bring substance to the album and come across as meticulous and thought-out rather than just being thrown together. That’s what I appreciate about Fulci—the attention to detail.

Duck Face Killings will put a devilish smirk on the faces of horror and death metal fiends alike. Concept records are no simple feat and are easy to fumble completely. However, the sickos in Fulci would make their gore godfather proud with this one. Looking for fun in the tropical sun? Look elsewhere. Looking for an eerie, tooth-grinding, unsettling, badass death metal album? Look here.

Photo by Chiara Meierhofer Muscar

The post Fulci – Duck Face Killings Review appeared first on Last Rites.

FU MANCHU ‒ THE RETURN OF TOMORROW

released June 14; At The Dojo

CHAPEL OF DISEASE ‒ ECHOES OF LIGHT

released February 9; Ván Records

Taking the flair and guitar heroics of hard rock icons like Thin Lizzy, UFO, Scorpions, and Blue Oyster Cult and filtering it through bone-dry progressive death/black metal by way of the sometimes terminally self-serious Van Records might seem like a recipe for disaster, but on album number four, Germany’s Chapel of Disease thread that very peculiar needle with a brash confidence that would be cloying if it weren’t so meticulously well-earned. 

The primary vector of chapel disease here is mainman Laurent Teubl, who handles vocals, bass, keys, and – most notably – all lead guitar. The core of Chapel of Disease’s songwriting style is cut from the same cloth as fellow wanderers Tribulation, Morbus Chron/Sweven, Venenum, and perhaps even a bit of In Solitude circa Sister. Does this mean that Echoes of Light is just as well-suited to skulking around dilapidated city streets wearing eyeliner and a cape as it is to emerging from a wood-paneled van in a haze of bongwater and lava lamp glow? Mister, I sure wish you would quit your hypothetical jawing and just crank this sucker up. Tight tunes, tasty licks, and basically just the down-home dirty business of electric guitars making excellent sounds. [DAN OBSTKRIEG]

NIGHT VERSES ‒ EVERY SOUND HAS A COLOR IN THE VALLEY OF NIGHT

released March 15; Equal Vision

It’s sort of amazing how significant of an impact the tone, mix or production can make on an album. Every time Night Verses cuts into a more aggressive angular guitar part on Every Sound Has A Color In The Valley Of Night, the overall sound of it is so damn heavy. Whenever drummer Aric Improta rolls across the toms, it carries the weight of an oncoming stampede. Reilly Herrera’s bass is thick and elastic whether it’s supporting the guitar or leading the song. The most aggressive passages Night Verses craft are akin to a roid rage version of Cloud Kicker smashing your ears to a pulp. Hell, the opening to “Kharma Wheel” sounds like buildings collapsing.

Night Verses is just as adept, however, at creating space, plucking beautiful, clean notes, and letting songs soar toward the sky. It’s precisely this balance and ability to build tension that makes those vicious releases all the more potent. Noise fights clarity, cleanliness battles gritty heft, and somber beauty fights aggression.

The first seven songs here were released as a part one in September of last year, but we now have the full 14-track album. If the hour-plus runtime makes you nervous, take the album in as two separate halves. That said, once you start, you’ll likely find that the full album flies by, even if it is mostly instrumental [SPENCER HOTZ]

UNLEASH THE ARCHERS ‒ PHANTOMA

released May 10; Napalm

The decision to include this release in Missing Pieces was not a light one given the nature of the controversy surrounding it. AI’s disruption of the art world, in all its permutations, is a hot button, to some scalding. Unleash the Archers themselves have issued a statement regarding their use of AI in the creation of the “Green & Glass” video (as well as its central role in the album’s storyline) and our readers are welcome and encouraged to read it before, during or after their investigation of Phantoma. And investigate it you should, because regardless of your stance on AI this is a strong release, a confident and logical stride forward for a band already operating with an overclocked CPU.

Abyss had an 80’s gleam that flickered in occasionally, like the rhythmic glow of streetlights in your cabin as you cruise down the thoroughfare to your TB Fourth Meal®. Phantoma ups the lumens even higher with comparatively leaner, tighter song structures and a streak of neon melodicism. Fret not, your expected UtA components are decidedly in play – heroic guitars, a pounding rhythm section, the gripping command of Brittney Slayes, but this time framed in a more cinematic 16:9 than their last few IMAX adventures. Take the ride, crank the jams and savor Phantoma’s 10 extra packets of Fire sauce. [ISAAC HAMS]

CIVEROUS – MAZE ENVY

released March 22; 20 Buck Spin

One of the game’s most consistent and respected labels right now, 20 Buck Spin, has continued its streak of releasing quality record after quality record in 2024. We’ve covered quite a few of them this time around the sun at Last Rites, including new albums courtesy of Witch Vomit, Hulder, Dissimulator, Slimelord, and Tzompantli. And there are some bangers on the horizon, most notably, for me at least, the new Fulci and Laceration records. Perhaps we’ll hear that new Worm LP soon, too. However, let’s talk about a 20 Buck Spin release we failed to review this year: Civerous’ gooey, doomy, death metal extravaganza, Maze Envy.

Let me be the first to take accountability for not giving this a proper review; it’s one of my favorite releases this year and a step up from their debut, Decrepit Flesh Relic (which I still thoroughly enjoy!). Everything from the production to the songwriting on Maze Envy is extremely well done. The seven tracks, clocking in at just about 42 minutes, is a disturbing journey, like an Ari Astir version of the classic film Labyrinth. From the moment “The Azure Eye” starts and sets the tone with some early ’90s horror- inspired sounds—think The Exorcist III—you’re submerged in a quicksand pit of wickedness. And once you’re halfway through “Shrouded in Crystals,” you’re past the point of no return—you’re along for the ride—whether you like it or not.

I cannot stress this enough: The record’s utter brutality and sinister beauty make it nearly impossible to turn your ear away. There’s more than enough on Maze Envy to sink your teeth into; however, beware—you might walk away with gnarly abscesses and rotting incisors from the atmosphere alone. Again, it’s a beautiful thing when splendid songwriting meets immaculate production. “Levitation Tomb” is a perfect example. The song’s final two minutes are guttural and primal, built upon layers of brooding riffs, synths, and tribal drum patterns.

Throughout the record, the riffs are heavy, the drums are bone-rattling, and the lead-playing adds such a beautiful dynamic. There’s even a pleasant little interlude with “Endless Symmetry.” But the true spectacle is the title track—nine-and-a-half minutes of absolute death-doom perfection. The band masters the pacing, ebbing and flowing between traditional doom configurations and modern death metal blasts. Hell, there are even some sprinkles of black metal thrown in there. If you’re a Hooded Menace or Worm fan, this is right up your alley.

Consider yourself a goof if you passed up on this one upon its release. But maybe that’s on me for not preaching the good word back in March. Whatever. Listen to Maze Envy ASAFP. [JOSH HEATH]

ACxDC – G.O.A.T.

released April 26; Prosthetic

Building off the subtly titled Satan Is King — the band’s second full-length, first for Prosthetic and their most high-profile offering at that point — G.O.A.T. sees this Los Angeles area “demoncore” outfit still firing on all cylinders, even as they’ve expanded the horizons around their raw and raucous raging a bit. Still very much built upon powerviolence and hardcore underpinnings, ACxDC’s churning, blistering bruising now adds nods to more metallic influences, balancing savagery against a noteworthy sense of beatdown groove, slowing down in select spots only to hit that much harder when the tempo shifts upwards into the red again.

Sergio Amalfitano shrieks and growls with throat-shredding fury, while the band beneath is coiled tight, blasting through seventeen songs in just over twenty minutes, short bursts of pure adrenaline like the bouncy floor-punch drive of “Boxed In,” or its follow-up, the punk-fueled “Clout Chaser,” with guest vocals from Elliot Morrow from Gulch. “Feed The Blade” slices and dices and thrashes and bashes, dropping into a near-death/doom trudge for a few seconds at the end (replete with a pinch squeal), while “Goatcore” rips through forty-seven seconds of unrelenting anger just after, in case you thought maybe they were going to stay in that lumbering gait.

G.O.A.T. is custom-made for moshpits and mayhem, another ripper from a band that keeps moving forward, two decades into their existence. [ANDREW EDMUNDS]

The post Missing Pieces: The Best Of What We Missed In 2024 So Far, Vol. 3 appeared first on Last Rites.

I’m amped. 

You know that feeling you get after listening to a piece of music that really gets the blood flowing? The kind that could push you to survive some deadly ancient battle even though you’d be the first to die? Perhaps I’m not giving myself enough credit, but I’d at least be an early victim—probably via an axe to the skull, if I had to guess. 

However, I’m not here to discuss my demise. I want to spread the good word about this new Tzompantli album Beating the Drums of Ancestral Force. If you’ve followed this indigenous death-doom outfit over the last couple of years, you probably caught wind of their debut full-length Tlazcaltiliztli. Beating the Drums of Ancestral Force is not just a continuation of that record. It’s a unique blend of tribal and death-doom elements, a fusion that has upped the intensity—or ancestral force—to create one massive-sounding album. 

The record starts strongly with “Tetzahuitl,” backed by folk instrumentation and war cries that set the tone. This track is a prime example of how the tribe can articulate death-doom without it being too death-doomy, for lack of a better descriptor. They truly understand how to pick up and draw back the pace of their music—even the solo is perfectly placed. It’s probably the most Coffins-sounding track on the album. Then, “Tlayohualli” is a mixture of Mournful Congregation and Hooded Menace. There’s a sense of melancholy here through the guitar riffs, chest-pounding rhythm section, and the vocals near the tail-end that paint a picture of pure sorrow. As I mentioned, this record does a great job of letting the emotions ooze. 

“Tlaloc Icuic” is a prime example of how Tzompantli creates these beautiful songs backed by indigenous instrumentation and natural soundscapes. Holistically, their ability to weave the heaviest riffs between these unique sounds makes these albums what they are. Of course, the songwriting is there, but they’ve developed a style that works perfectly for the atmosphere they’re trying to create, much like Nile has done and continues to do. “Chichimecatl” relies simply on the death-doom heaviness to carry the song; however, the howling chants hovering over the riffage add yet another layer. It’s these little intricacies that genuinely shine for the band. And that chunking riff on the track? So sick.  

At times, the record reminds me of Ch’ahom’s Knots of Abhorrence. That probably rings the truest on “Tetzaviztli,” where the band dances between the slower and faster time signatures. At this point, it should also be mentioned that Tzompantli is all about the entirety of listening to an album. Beating the Drums of Ancestral Force should be consumed as one piece of art. Take, for example, how well “Tetzaviztli” flows into “Otlica Mictlan,” perhaps the closest to a primitive death metal song on the record. The finale, “Icnocuicatl,” is the most robust offering on the album, clocking in at just over nine minutes. It’s sad, heavy, yet weirdly hopeful. Here, the band let their funeral doom influences shine, channeling the spirit of bands like Evoken. The entire track is a spiritual journey from start to finish, with the chanting breaks before diving right back into a doom beat. The lead playing at the end is the quintessential cherry on top. 

In hindsight, I knew I’d enjoy this new Tzompantli record. I’m more obsessed with it. While death-doom can become a tedious listening experience at times, Tzompantli strays far away from that, and created an album that will always be due for more listens. There are more than enough details to pick up on with each subsequent spin. And the songwriting is not just good; it’s top-tier. If you create death-doom, make it your own, just like Tzompantli. They have truly crafted a unique and compelling album, and I hope they continue to place heads upon spikes for years to come.  

photo by Luckee Ngin

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All that now acknowledged, good bands often need a reset. Abhorrent Rapture put a bow on the band’s sound. The EP felt more celebratory than transitional. Every element—the grooves, the distorted riffs, the gurgles, the thrashy solos—felt like the improved, peak version of 2019’s Buried Deep in a Bottomless Grave. On just their second full-length, Witch Vomit had taken their weightier take on OSDM about as far as it could go, and if ever there were a time to pivot, that time would be now.

Funeral Sanctum by Witch Vomit

As the excellent, icy blue album cover by Matt Stikker would indicate, Funeral Sanctum is a measurable pivot. Across it’s almost thirty-one minutes—epic, by Witch Vomit standards—the band’s third album seemingly pulls from more disparate corners of the metalverse; Incantation and OSDM, of course, but also Dissection, Necrophobic, Sacramentum, Absu, and early black/death. Though I would have been happy with Abhorrent Rapture Pt. II, Funeral Sanctum is Witch Vomit skipping that transitional phase the 2021 EP could have been to arrive suddenly in a sound that feels very much their own.

Along with Stikker’s cover art, the first single “Blood of Abomination” signaled the band’s new direction. Not only does it typify the more immediate and intense approach, but it may also be the best song of the ten on the album. And at just over two minutes, it wastes little (read: no) time executing Witch Vomit’s new modus operandi. A burning, drill-like number, it perhaps most closely adheres to a traditional black/death scheme, though the brief groove at about the 1:30 mark is a minor deviation. As far as initial offerings go, I don’t think the band could have arrived at a better one than “Blood of Abomination.”

A good portion of Funeral Sanctum sounds like Witch Vomit’s take on The Nocturnal Silence. “Serpentine Shadows” and “Dominion of a Darkened Realm” may be the more obvious examples. Intentional or not, the strangely smooth and natural melding of melody and tension feels very early Necrophobic-like at times. Compliments to the chefs. Whatever the inspiration, this sound suits them well.

Without a single doubt, Funeral Sanctum is Witch Vomit’s finest (half) hour. A lesser, more risk-averse band would have recorded Abhorrent Rapture Pt. II. Kudos to Witch Vomit for not only trying something different, but succeeding in doing so.

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