Written by: Blackie Skulless
While Portland, Oregon’s Witch Vomit have been around for over a decade, picking up bigger attention in the latter half of that decade, it took a while for them to appeal to me. Their brand of death metal focuses on the old school style, sticking to the usual themes of death and gore under a raw and guttural veneer. Normally that jumps right out to me, but for some reason it took the more refined approach of 2021’s Abhorrent Rapture to hook me. From there, the latest Funeral Sanctum seems to have followed suit, striking quite a strong chord. As anticipated, much of this follows the same marshy riffing with a cleaner production that doesn’t feel inorganic. Heavy and chunky riffing backed by pummeling drums that tend to coat on an echo with the bass kicks add an extra layer of muck, making it so guitar solos never take too much precedence. In other words, they feel focused without being the star of the show. This allows the rhythms section a little more prominence, which just may be what captures my attention the most.
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Written by: The Administrator
Horizon-gazers: assemble! Since the resurgence of this column a few weeks back, ON THE HORIZON has unintentionally been focused on doom and doom-adjacent releases. Today's entry shakes up the status quo. Let's get a little more grisly, shall we? The (forthcoming) debut album from Albuquerque's Magna Moriendi has been a long time coming. This one-man death metal project dropped a raw and raucous 3-track self-titled EP a while back, which I thought was quite impressive. Since 2020, nothing more emerged from the Magna Moriendi camp. But good things, as they say, come to those who wait. Into The Murk will be released on May 31st, and lead single "Moment of Apparitions" hit the ground running this past Wednesday. This is a damn strong track, and if it's any indication of what Magna Moriendi has been cooking up, I think we're in for a pretty delectable death metal debut. "Moment of Apparitions" takes a slightly less blistering approach than the 2020 EP. The track is a little longer than anything that came before, and while the riffage carries itself with a similar urgency, the more mire-inflicted implications of the album title and artwork are apparent in the general foreboding atmosphere. There's a rolling churn throughout that is just nauseating enough, and the riff that squirms across the current is an oddly invasive earworm. There's a solo that adds a nice level of unpredictability, and a thick low end keeps everything anchored. The vocals have seen some polish, albeit in a very comparative sense--they are still notably brutal and exceptionally muscular, but fit a little more comfortably in the overall mix. "Moment of Apparitions" represents a level up for Magna Moriendi. I've had this one on repeat today, and I'm psyched to hear what the remainder of this album has in store. May 31st. Mark yer calendars accordingly. In the meantime, check out "Moment of Apparitions" below!
The Sleeping Village has been around for a few years now, and during that time, a lot of reviews have unceremoniously disappeared into the dark confines of our archives, destined to never see the light of the front page again. Music appreciation, however, is a timeless affair, and in that spirit, here is a review retrieved from the deep dark depths.
Written by: The Administrator (originally published Jan. 5th, 2020)
If medical waste is unceremoniously disposed, as I like to imagine, in a dumpster out back behind the hospital, San Jose's Aseptic is the resulting viscera stew that oozes from bio-hazard bags and pools in the bottom. Not sure what I mean? Just imbibe in the sluicing juices and slimy riffage of the intro to Cascading Fluids. If you're still having trouble painting said picture--and god help you if that's the case--it may help to take note of the irrefutable fact that this EP legitimately sounds like it was recorded in a dumpster. Hyperbole aside, this is good stuff. If you happen to be familiar with Aseptic’s stellar Senses Decay EP, just know that this is an entirely different kind of beast. Same killer riffs, but the aesthetic is stripped to the bone. 
Written by: The Administrator
Let's clear this up right out of the gate: Trocar are gross. Not cutesy gross, but fundamentally and irrevocably gross. Repugnancy has been the name of the game for these (literal) organ grinders, and their debut full-length is accordingly stomach-churning. If you're unfamiliar with Trocar, just consider that the band composition consists of two members of Fluids (Jan Grotle and Walter Hale) alongside death metal connoisseur Schuler Benson, who you may know from @deathmetalradio infamy. Given the lineup, please extrapolate. The sum of the component parts is bound to be bloody, unsettling, grotesque. Anyways. The bluntly and accurately entitled Extremities was released April 5th via Selfmadegod Records, and if you've enjoyed Trocar's work thusfar across various splits and EPs, you'll enjoy this. Indeed, in my opinion, this is their best work yet. A genuine level up. It may be the sonic equivalent of a garbage bag filled with medical waste left in the sun for, oh, a couple of decades, but Extremities is the finest grind I've had pleasure of consuming in quite some time. 
While I feel like a significant portion of death metal misses the mark when it comes to an elevator pitch, Blight House hit the nail on the head with their straightforward "gross death metal" tag. This stuff is, indeed, very gross. Throwing on their latest offering, the appropriately entitled Blight The Way, is like unto watching a series of straight-to-vhs horror movies whilst lounging uncomfortably in a medical waste dumpster. Y'know, the good times and healthy activities we all dream of.
Blight House knows how to effectively apply campy aesthetics in pursuit of a rousingly good time. As such, a necessary degree of self-aware good humor pervades in the lyrics and numerous chopped samples, as well as the song titles themselves. Punny examples such as "Grassquatch" and "Dismembers Only" aside, "Florida Man Hails Satan" is an absolute banger. I hasten to add that humor isn't used as a crutch here so much as an essential component of a greater picture. Without grunting and grinding music that goes, as they say, hard as absolute fuck, this project would fall apart pretty damn quick. But fear not: Blight House deliver the goods in the engaging music department. The chugs, while far from complex, chug with an engaging foot-stomping vigor, and, most notably, the omnipresent bass bounces throughout at a loose lope. The bass indeed dominates--for a prime example, look to the sasquatchian "Grassquatch" as it moves with earthshaking heft. The vocals are quite flexible, running the gamut between gross-out sewer gurgles and mucus-coated raspy roars. |
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