Tag: Arch / Matheos

10s Essentials – Volume Four

Compliments and congratulations on enduring, fellow bubble beings! The 100 Essential Albums of the 2010s is pulling into stop #4 this week. CAN YOU HANDLE THE PRESSURE? We’re certain you can, because this is nothing

Best Of 2019 – Jeremy Morse: Only Half Death Metal. Aren’t I Fancy?

Well howdy, dear readers. This is it: Last and least. I usually take a powder on these personal best-of lists, and I’m still not sure I have any business doing one this year. I didn’t

Best Of 2019 – Dan Obstkrieg: This Is A List

riverrun, past Eve and Adam’s, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, strum of sharp string harpin twing whirl downaweigh the Minstrells of Saints Iommi y Quorthon and all the wilde blastbeaten beasties bleat

Best Of 2019 – Ryan Tysinger: The Definitive List Of The Best Metal Albums There Ever Was In The Year Of Our Lord 2019, Or How I Stopped Worrying And Learned To Love Long Titles

Since the earliest days of mankind, someone has always been convinced that the world is ending. What’s both fascinating and terrifying about this is that of all those who have preached and proclaimed the end

Best Of 2019 – Manny-O-War: Tales Of Woe And Abstract Sympathy

2019 can absolutely get fucked. To be honest with you, dear reader, I’ve been dreading writing this intro. It’s hung over my head like an anvil held fast to a roof beam raised high by

Best Of 2019 – Andrew Edmunds: One Bird Cannot Make A Bad Pun, But Toucan

And so another year passes, the inexorable march of time… In the grand scheme of things, 2019 was a pretty good year for me, and I hope the same for you. I drank many good

Best Of 2019 – Zach Duvall: A Grand Declaration Of WAR

After the turn of the millennium, professional baseball transitioned into what is now known as the sabermetrics era. Basically, those running the game began paying attention to more detailed ways of slicing up statistics, so

Best Of 2019 – Captain: Be A Dear And Hand Me My Work Glaive

I am no spring chicken. More like an autumn chicken, maybe—cool (ahem) and slightly grim, in its prime, and pecking away on the gravel driveway of life in hopes of finding nourishment, but mostly ingesting