Anhedonist - Netherwards [2012]

Y'know, I think everybody has an Anhedonist experience every once in a while. Netherwards is that album I bought with deaf ears and an unhealthy urge to spend money I didn't really possess after reading only one random positive review on the internet. I waited for it to arrive, got it, listened to it once with only mild interest then put it on the shelf where it would gather dust for roughly one entire month. Then, out of random chance and serious boredom (possibly with some procrastination in there too), I picked it back up only to discover one of the most massive and intensely rewarding musical encounters I'd ever experienced. It's happened before, it'll happen again, and I always freaking love it. So it goes.

Anyways, now that the life story is over, enter Anhedonist, a recently formed death/doom juggernaut. Imagine that movie 127 hours condensed into forty minutes of equal pain, except that you've gotten your arm lodged into a dark underwater cavern and the nightmarish dwellers of said purgatory are tearing you limb from limb, allowing you to live only to suffer. Yeah, it's kind of a downer. In musical terms, it's not so much horribly abrasive as it is devastatingly painstaking. With each crawling, desolate riff, it drains the lifeforce of the listener faster than the band plays its music. People love to throw words like 'atmosphere' around--I've been guilty, sure--but when you're enveloped by these melancholic tomb-like tones, tortured bellows and screams in tow, then you might consider acquiring an extra nightlight. So, book a psychologist in advance and lets get rolling...

Netherwards is made up of just four tracks, thoroughly lumbering through various shades, most of which evoking dark and evil feelings. The simple but effective lyrics obsess upon death and hatred of an elegant nature, never devolving into crude gore lyrics or the standard joys of killing. Interestingly, sorrow plays third fiddle to horror and ancient prose in these parts, directly contradicting the emotionally haunting music itself. However, that's not to say that Anhedonist never dwell upon terror in their auditory summoning. The faster paced bits, most prevalent in opener "Saturnine," wreak exceptional havoc in this way, and I'd be remiss not to mention the paralyzing last two minutes of "Carne Liberatus," which instantly cause the temperature in the room to drop by fifty degrees as V.B.'s woeful moaning depicts a dying giant's return to the bitter soil. Holy hell, excuse me while I get a blanket.

Anhedonist's most successful composition is ironically its only foray into undiluted depression. "Estrangement" is a highlight within a homogeneous concoction of highlights. It's unbelievable. Breathtaking. Building on an almost Warning-like melodic riff (which can never be a bad thing), the sweeping sorrow is immediately evident. It wavers on before reaching an even darker state of misery, searing with leads that rival the archaic antiquity of Septic Flesh's early records. Despite this, it only climaxes halfway through when the vocals break into eerie, bloodcurdling shrieks and the unforgettable chorus proceeds to possess your soul. The band manages to break into a sudden burst of speed whilst remaining depressive, something I've rarely found in doom metal. Once again, V.B.'s vocal hybrid of brute force and emotive lyricism creates an unearthly aura, transforming a simply kick ass song into a spine-chilling masterwork. "CAAASST INTO IMAGINED EXIIILE!" Unforgettable.

And to think that's only one fourth of the material included. Had the entire record been replete with quality of the same ilk as "Estrangement," surely the space-time continuum would have unraveled and I wouldn't be writing this review right now, but I shouldn't take any credit from the rest of the proceedings. "Saturnine" brings the record to life slowly with ripples of water, from which emerges the murky, decrepit initial riff. The song explodes into haste before settling into the pace at which most of the rest of the album moves. "Carne Liberatus" is relatively short and sweet compared to the other tracks, and it also bears the simplest structure apart from the aforementioned lurk that awaits you near its conclusion. Those praying an easy departure from this test of endurance will have to think again, because a staggering fifteen minute beast only known as "Inherent Opprobrium" will have you praying for the dismal end. Of course, I mean this all in the best way possible, though the weak of heart may grow weary of this monolith's relentless doom and gloom.

With this, Netherwards reaches its fatal end, not that my enjoyment of it ever will. Two more elements that only enhanced my adoration for this album are its unexpected level of truly catchy moments and the speed at which it seems to fly by. Seriously, you'd expect such a record to deliver the goods in painfully long increments of time, but in my experience, the treasures of Netherwards are distributed in a continuous flow. Therefore, it never becomes boring for a second. 'Old school' is a classifier I've consciously avoided, since its use always causes a divisive discussion in today's metal scene (which I've frankly grown tired of). Anhedonist does fit into this niche thanks to their suitably raw production values and noticeable influences, yet they offer so much more than another simple tribute to past legends. Components like atmosphere and emotion may be subjective in music, but for what it's worth, this album delivered for me in every conceivable aspect; and for the love of your imaginary deity of choice, at least listen to "Estrangement" just once.

   Overall: 8.75/10 (Great - forfeit the body)

The Foreshadowing - Second World [2012]

Gothic doom metal albums often fall into a safe lull of mediocrity, never really excelling or overtly failing at what they do. The formula is simple: apply simple but effective riffing, a guitar tone that straddles the line between accessible clarity and distortion, some formulaic A-B songwriting, and an "emotional" low-range vocalist (or if you want to get really stereotypical, a male/female vocal hybrid), and you're basically done. The Foreshadowing, a relatively newer group of this sort, isn't exactly reinventing the wheel here with its third offering. However, while Second World features many of the predictable traits listed above, it delivers them with a quality far above the norm and an appropriately otherworldly atmosphere without forgetting to compose some (but not all) great songs in the process. Thus, a must-have for fans of the genre has officially been bestowed upon us.

The most notable point of interest is the excellent sound at play here. Second World depicts its apocalyptic overtones in every forlorn, desperate note. The multi-layered tracks often dwell in a haze of ambiguity, as if the sun is just coming over the horizon and the world is stuck in limbo as the silhouetted figures (zombies? warlords? emaciated survivors?) stare beyond the screen with unseen eyes... okay, so maybe I'm taking the cover art a bit too literally, but it is particularly sweet and does portray the all-consuming mood of the record very well. One is subjected to a well of conflicting emotions here: the dreary sense of loss, the convincing hope that vitality will be restored, the universal fear of death, and the pathos of rage are all explored here in opulent quantities. And who better to explore such realms of thought than the amazing Marco Benevento, whose romantic and moving voice could sell out a stadium for a mere reading of a dictionary? Seriously, this guy would make the album even if the atmosphere didn't.

The one factor that just barely restricts Second World from masterpiece status is the occasionally repetitive and unimaginative songwriting style. Don't get me wrong; there are still plenty of catchy tracks and excellent melodies here, but some more variation could have gone a long way toward letting this one compete with the greatest greats of the genre. With that said, the majority of the record is made up of winners. "Havoc" builds the silkiest verse rhythm of the album right out the starting gate, with Marco's similarly rich voice gliding effortlessly above. The title track delivers a desolate and beautiful musical portrait and one of the best choruses on the album. Of all the tracks, "Ground Zero" has the most classically driven bombast, forging a sound most reflective of classic Gothic metal sounds. It's also memorable as all hell. "Colonies" escalates in tension and emotion, and "Friends of Pain" closes it all out with a dreary, miserable, and slow display of despair.

The only thing really missing from The Forshadowing is a bevy of noticeable emotional highs or lows. Thus, a few of the tracks fail to make much of an impact. All in all, however, Second World succeeds thanks to the excellent vocals and a mystery-provoking atmosphere. Add in highlights like "Ground Zero" or "Colonies" and you've got quite the hit on your hands, easily the best entry of this genre I've yet heard this year. Fans of the style are encouraged to pick it up, but those less tested should probably try it on before buying. This is certainly one to revisit during winter, curled up by the fireplace with a cup of coffee and The Foreshadowing's velveteen music simmering through the air. I'm not sure which element would be the most successful warming agent.

   Overall: 8/10 (Great)

Septicflesh - Esoptron [1995]

If Mystic Places of Dawn was an indication (as it proved to be), Septicflesh was a band destined to do great things, and it wasn't long before a similarly sanguine followup was delivered. Esoptron relies less on an all-consuming atmosphere, instead providing a panorama of doomy death metal prowess. There's this sort of medieval gothic vibe beginning to emerge here (most prevalent on brief interludes like "Celebration"), a factor that would dominate Septicflesh's following release, Ophidian Wheel. The sound is still archaic and ageless, but the overall effect of Esoptron evokes less wonder and mystique than its predecessor. Nonetheless, Esoptron shines with striking power; every album by this impeccable band is worth hearing, and it should come as no surprise that this one is no exception.

The production values have been vastly improved, though the tone does emit dryness when that siren of a lead guitar isn't shedding some sunlight on this haunting trek through Hades. This remains the most astounding facet of Septicflesh: the arresting beauty that manages to permeate its way through the depths of the band's deep, guttural darkness. This is achieved once again by excellent synths and keyboards, especially notable on "Narcissism," which is quite a daunting experience in itself. A nine minute journey across an abstract realm, the song brings just about everything Septicflesh had and combines it into one slow, progressive churn through the gothic landscape, adding in some eerily effective clean vocals just for good measure. That's one hell of a way to end an album.

Elsewhere, the album operates on a more concise level than that epic or even the debut, presenting songs around the 4-5 minute range with no lesser impact. "Ice Castle" in particular chills to the core with its building, sorrowful tension, containing emotionally dynamic melodies swarming all around in a suffocatingly moving blizzard. And it does all that while scarcely progressing beyond midpace. In fact, if you haven't noticed already, Esoptron always moves along with a patient, leisurely stride, never busting into unnecessary sections of speed. The title track follows this method, beggining with a rather pedestrian riff, but it all pays off when each of the individual layers come together to form a truly euphoric feast of musical delight.

Esoptron lies in a somewhat uncomfortable place in the Septicflesh discography, smashed in between the two near-flawless masterworks of Mystic Places of Dawn and Ophidian Wheel, but it easily holds its own (and your attention) for the modest 43 minute runtime. It's an album I quickly dismissed upon first listens, a mistake that could be made with several of their releases, but when given time to grow, Esoptron crawls within the recesses of the mind and takes sieze. Who knows, my marks for this one might just keep going up; I certainly haven't grown tired of it yet. Various production and distribution issues plagued this band until the release of Revolution DNA, and these early albums still haven't received the remaster or even rerelease treatment they've always deserved. Hopefully their newfound popularity will thrust these releases back into the spotlight.

   Overall: 8.5/10 (Great - the light with the dark)

Septicflesh - Mystic Places of Dawn [1994]

After experiencing the marvelous grandiose of The Great Mass, an album which converted me to an avid Septicflesh fan, you can imagine my surprise when I voyaged into the enormous back catalogue of this fantastic Greek death metal band only to find the group drastically different yet equally wondrous. Mystic Places of Dawn sports a fitting name, representing both the dawning of a new, suffocating vision along with the mind-bending mystery surrounding it. It's an album cloaked in melancholic beauty, churning deep with macabre doom riffs and a crestfallen atmosphere so penetrating that it breathes life into its own murky corridors. Almost nowhere to be found are the potent symphonic elements so prevalent on later albums like Communion; this is a pure ritual founded on the flesh and blood of ancient gods.

That doesn't mean, however, that the album offers nothing more than a droning atmosphere. The amount of effective melodic hooks is surprising considering the overall vibe of sadness here, providing a perfect balance of memorable songwriting and overwhelming grief. This effect is mostly provided by the sharp lead guitars, which are so acute I'd swear they could slice right through steel. When I think about Septicflesh, all I can feel are those lucid leads piercing my inner being. Elsewhere, some practical synths lie beneath the rest, serving to enhance an already expertly layered sound with even more intricacy; and although Sotiris's excellent clean vocals hadn't quite been realized yet, Spiros Antoniou's urgent growl still adequately presents the band's eloquent prose. Lyrically the band was soon to reach its height with the wonderful Ophidian Wheel, but the themes and and elegant lines of poetry here still surpass most of those who speak English alone.

In terms of death metal songcraft, Septicflesh stand alone on their own creative plateau. Even on the debut, the ideas were fully formed and ready to go. Highlights? Almost everything. "Return to Carthage" buzzes in the bottom end and goes at blazing speed until the magical chorus arrives, mesmerizing with its romantic leads and synths. "Chasing the Chimera" is an all out doom fest, twisting and turning its way to the shores of victory, almost introspective in its up-and-down delivery. "The Underwater Garden" feels as if it was recorded in its titular location. The best riff of the entire album appears on "Morpheus (The Dreamlord)," a crushing wonder of a song that features impeccable violin accompaniment during a whimsical midsection. "Mythos" contains nine minutes of simple, symphonic ambiance, and it never gets boring for a second. This arrangement is absolutely genius and must be heard to be believed.

Mystic Places of Dawn is one of the better debuts ever recorded and remains a highlight of the genre itself. I don't believe it's quite this band's crowning jewel, as The Great Mass and Ophidian Wheel aim even higher and achieve greatness in arguably superior ways, but that's the great thing about Septicflesh: each of their albums is so different it can be enjoyed on its own independent level. A varying style is played on every other record of theirs, so chances are, there's at least one among them for everybody. I just happen to enjoy them all. This album does possess a couple of weak points, like the brief, seemingly out of place "Behind the Iron Mask." The production is technically terrible, sounding muddled and noisy beyond its years, but don't let that keep you from discovering the beauty within. Get this now if you can.

   Overall: 9.25/10 (Outstanding - the song of the muse will be heard)

Ghost Brigade - Until Fear No Longer Defines Us [2011]

Ghost Brigade, if three albums can accurately indicate anything, never changes. They represent two opposing angles that I both love and hate about bands or albums. On one hand, you can almost always count on the band to deliver consistently with memorable, well-executed songs, but on the other, they might be too consistent in their use of similar tactics. This displays the same formula used in Guided by Fire and Isolation Songs: doomy, Katatonia-like songs with a never subtle dose of sludge, all well-forged in a smooth, clean sound replete with melody. If you haven't had enough of this formula, Until Fear No Longer Defines Us is well worth a listen.

The album coasts along with Ikonen's soothing mix of solemn cleans and melodic growls, though the pace can get pretty slow. "In the Woods" is surprisingly light for an opener, almost coming off as an intro with it's subtle, snowbound chords. "Clawmaster" is certainly a highlight, building up slowly to its orgasmic chorus. There are also some surprisingly catchy numbers like "Traces of Liberty" and "Divine Act of Lunacy," overcoming the band's explicit gloom with traces of hope. "Grain" is emotional through and through, with evocative lyrics to boot. My ultimate favorite, however, is "Cult of Decay" with that beautiful rhythm that haunts for all the duration. When the refrain comes, fewer things could feel much better.

Though Until Fear No Longer Defines Us never quite lives up to the beauty of its title or serene cover art, its highs are still exquisite. Some of longer tracks (like "Breakwater" or "Soulcarvers") feel a bit stretched, and Ghost Brigade never really aspires to innovation, but for fans of atmospheric sludge/doom, this still manages to be a worthy trek through the tried and true.

   Overall: 7.25/10 (Good)

Heavenwood - Abyss Masterpiece [2011]

Abyss Masterpiece is an album that immediately reminds me of Septicflesh's 2011 release The Great Mass, not only because of its recent freshness in my mind, but because of its similar integration of orchestra sections with death metal elements. Many factors differ between the two, however. For one, Heavenwood falls in the gothic doom genre with only hints of death, most of which being inspired by vocals alone. There is a lot of variety here, which is a characteristic that many of Heavenwood's similar contemporaries lack. It's an important one on Abyss Masterpiece, too, considering that the album runs for twelve full tracks and just about an hour of music overall. Though each and every song may not quite match up with the rest, this is a remarkably conisistent and entertaining piece of work.

The material fluctuates between heavy, dark symphonic pieces and more catchy, accessable songs. This is a formula that often leads to weak filler tracks when used by a mediocre band, but Heavenwood does it so well that any discriminating gothic metal fans should enjoy the lighter parts as much as the night-shrouded ones. Take for example the opening one-two punch of "The Arcadia Order" and "Morning Glory Clouds." The former is a cinematic showing not unlike "The Vampire from Nazareth" while the latter opts for a highly listenable melodic death single approach; it's a perfect way to foreshadow the styles to come. This structure also opens the way for a multitude of different vocals. A bludgeoning but not too unintelligible growl is present for most of the duration, but it's additionally accompanied by full clean vocals and a sludgy 50-50 style somehow appropriate for the occasion. The female vocals in "Leonor" make it a pleasent surprise and one of the more memorable showpieces here.

To be honest, I prefered the cleaner cuts from Abyss Masterpiece, an aspect of Heavenwood they should take with great pride. Few do these types of songs better. Tracks like "Once a Burden" and "Like Yesterday" are great enough already, but when "A Poem for Matilde" plays, it brings with it an emotion power I've only seldom heard elsewhere. This is a beauty of a track, a sweet, moving display of genuine passion. As with the rest of the album, the lyrics show an adept knowledge of longing and promise.

"Blessed and divine, my world your eyes
I'm distinguished
I'll never let you down
Your hand in mine, we'll rule the time
Autumn or Winter
I'll never let you down"

For haters of symphonic or orchestral utilization in their metal, all I can say is that Abyss Masterpiece is less of a full symphony than The Great Mass and that you shouldn't let a rather unimportant qualm get in the way of a great album. Heavenwood knows when to use additional instruments and when to keep them quiet and play with sheer simplistic feel. The final result plays like a highlight reel of gothic metal's best aspects. This may not be the heaviest nor most stylish pig in the excellent 2011 litter, but it certainly isn't the runt, or even close, for that matter. It has enough meat on its bones to feed your ears for many listens, probably en route to winning "best in show" accolades for its genre. So, that about does it: an epic metaphor for an epic album.

   Overall: 8/10 (Great - I adore a soul that doesn't feel)