Album Review: The Atlas Moth - Coma Noir

Named for the enormous but short-lived Southeast Asian Lepidoptera, Chicago’s sludgy post-metal pioneers spread their powerful wings and take flight like the mighty Mothra, doing battle with and slaying the stellar expectations set by their previous three albums. Coma Noir improves upon the band’s winning kaleidoscopic interchange of influences and sonic touchstones, notably combining the pooling groove grind of Neurosis with the celestial psychedelics of Ufomammut, and the agonizing and lamentful atmosphere of Paradise Lost, a kaiju-sized force of pure contempt fortified and propelled by a driving head-long hardcore pummel. While not as technically proficient as fellow local post-metallers Pelican or as brooding as doom dreadnought Bongripper, The Atlas Moth excel in song craft, with lyrics that address issues both societal and existential using dynamic compositions that effortlessly thread influences with memorable chord progressions that shift tempos and transition melodies without losing momentum or sacrificing the adrenalized mush of each cyclopic rhythm. The white-phosphorus glare of the riff bombardment of “Coma Noir” burns hot with fury, while the trippy post-hardcore space rock of “Last Transmission from the Late Great Planet Earth” threatens to put a dent in the axis of the lonely spinning island they share with us, later the irradiated electro riff-rock of “The Frozen Crown” groans with the crushing weight of a cold blighted anguish which anchors its grudging resolve, and finally concluding with the fatalistic doom metal noir of “Chloroform," a terminal and caustically conclusive knock-out. A rustle in an alley, a bird drops dead from the sky, a pair of glowing eyes in the distance- unsettling emblems of foreboding pour into your head like dirty water circling a sink drain, filling you with fear to the point of bursting- stir and strain, but there is no waking from the depthless sleep that has overtaken you, a fit of nocturnal torment monitored from under the brim of shadowy wide-brimmed custodian's gaze, a constant presence of ambivalent chaos. 

Don't fake it, make it (Prosthetic Records)

Album Review: Ulcerate - Stare into Death and Be Still

I should really know better than to listen to Ulcerate on an empty stomach. But here I am, writing this with nothing in me but coffee and a waning will to live.* For those not keen, Ulcerate is a highly technical atmospheric death metal band out of New Zealand. Their sound is widely attributable to drummer Jamie Saint Merat's prodigious tempo-changes and post-production work, and guitarist Michael Hoggard's employ of dissonant guitar effects and frenetic playing style. Their like if Gorguts and Portal got sucked into a cyclone somewhere out in Kansas, and while they were both suspended in mid-air a blade of a nearby windmill became dislodged and impaled them both. Later after hearing about the tragedy on the news, Neurosis singer Steve Von Till decided to write a song in the slain bands' styles. And that's it. That's their sound in a nutshell. There is no other possible way of describing it. Stare into Death and Be Still is Ulcerate's sixth album and continues the band's mission to be uncompromisingly disorienting and dense. "Exhale the Ash" features bucking, serpentine guitars and a haunting atmosphere, while "Stare Into Death and Be Still" is penetratingly ominous with sharp, crenellated chord progressions and a battlement of ruthless tempo-changes, and "Inversion" has a dark allure to its snaring hooks and tarry shuddersome grooves. The tracks that I found myself enjoying the most are a little front-loaded here, but that doesn't mean that the entire package isn't a gale of catharsis, woe, and mind-dissolving complexity. Trust me, there are guaranteed moments on this album when you're going to feel like you're in a plane that is spinning out of control and about crater into the ground, orphaning whatever lower lifeforms you've sequester at your home. Remember to eat something an hour before giving this album a spin, or barring that, clear a route to your toilet and leave the seat up.

Get a copy of Stare into Death and Be Still from Debemur Morti Productions, here.

* The latter of which is not at all attributable to the album I'm reviewing, but a reaction to the general state of the world and me in it.

Album Review: Barrens - Penumbra

It always worries me a little when I don’t hear something I good out of Sweden in a while (a while being a week or more). Like, did the significantly more socialist economy they have up there finally collapse and reduce them all to barbarism? Forcing them to eat rats and trade their children for the next smartphone upgrade? Oh wait, the phrase is Socialism OR Barbarism… or NOT and... also they’re on the whole doing just fine even in the grips of a global pandemic… well, if they decide that they want a little less self-determinism and a little more neo-feudalism, they can let the United States know. I’m sure they’d be happy to send an envoy from the University of Chicago’s Economics Department.

Getting back on topic, Barrens is a dark post-metal band from Sweden and I’m definitely enjoying their debut LP Penumbra. Barrens is a signee to Pelagic Records, and if you’re familiar with the likes of heavy post-rockers and label mates Pg.Lost then you have a pretty good idea of what’s coming your way on Penumbra. Barrens' members all met while playing in the largely instrumental indie rock band Scraps of Tape. I know what you’re thinking, pretentious meandering indie rock, like I need more of that in my life. I relate to that sentiment, but hear me out, because 1) Scraps of Tape are not the kind of band to get lost up their own rear ends, and subsequently neither are Barrens, and 2) both those bands ROCK OUT LOUD! In fact, you can hear the energy and dark brooding Pelican-esque angst busting out all of Scraps of Tape at all corners, like a wolverine clawing its way out a burlap sack, and that energy is transferred over to Barrens without inertia.

Let yourself ascend in the spotlight like glare of “Atomos” which has a surprisingly weighty and patient groove, supporting wafting gamma-rays of Failure-eque guitars and twinkling keys. Your brain will be lightly seared as you let “Arc Eye” into your ears, with its haunting and crisp synth-led grooves and sharp, lyrical, and insistent guitar work. Most of the tracks here tend to be downtempo in terms of speed, but if you want something that will ratchet up your heart rate “Shifter” will do the trick, with dark and foreboding industrial post-punk guitars and cruelly persistent, rapid synth stabs ala Perturbator- the whole gambit has a techno-dystopian feel that could set the tone to a chase scene in the next installment of the Blade Runner franchise. If you are looking for an ominous addition to your soundtrack this week, look no further than Penumbra.

Grab a copy of Penumbra from Pelagic Records, here.

Album Review: Inter Arma - Sulphur English

Inter Arma's new LP flat out kicked my ass. Sulpher English sees the band returning to their earlier sound while stepping up their songwriting in a big way. My full review is over at Chicago Crowd Surfer. Link below.

Review of Inter Arma - Sulphur English

Horns up for Bill Bumgardner.