Here’s a factoid our eagle-eyed archivist doesn’t expect anyone to recall: back in the primordial days of this site, we published a track review of the delightfully entitled “Obstrinxerit,” from a Albuquerque-dwelling sludge duo named Sword Horse. It made an impression on me then--to quote: “‘Obstrinxerit’ maintains a free-flowing ambiance, an irresistible pull into a cave that is too small. In this case, Death doesn’t beckon, so much as leave you with no other option.” Chilling stuff.
Given a certain enamorment with this track, as well as a healthy appreciation for their prior work, I was suitably intrigued by the release of a self-titled EP way back in August of last year. I listened to the damn thing quite frequently, a little sludge-me-up between other releases. Despite an intent to put pen to paper and scratch out a review, I simply...didn’t. And so the apology tour continues. I arise today from an apparent Rip Van Winkle situation to inform you that, unlike yours truly, you really shouldn’t look this gift Sword Horse in the mouth.
As a pseudo-medieval Village inhabited by a motley crew of slumbering (albeit highfalutin) peasants, we've dealt with a lot of absurd challenges. And, to our credit, we've survived ‘em all--quite handily, I might add. Feudal serfdom? A non-issue: we deposed that sucker years ago. Blatantly nonexistent sewer system? At this point we can't smell, and we're certifiably immune to any plague these rats have to offer. Loot-thirsty marauders from the north? They leave us alone now; last time they attempted an assault, we armored up, threw on some Sabaton, and slaughtered their strongest warriors with ease.
But here’s something we have yet to deal with: Orcs. Y’know, the brutish and (typically) malevolent beasts of lore. Two be-tusked specimens have emerged from their slime-ridden dens, and, much to our amused curiosity, are currently sniffing around our hastily constructed barricade. They’ve killed some chickens, but beyond that, they seem...uncharacteristically friendly. This may be a terrible mistake, but let’s let them in, shall we? If we perish this fateful day, so be it.
Written by: Carlos Balmaceda
Orphans of Doom is a Kansas City based metal band that offers a refreshing mix of familiar genres. Combining elements of thrash, sludge, and a decent coating of crossover, has helped them out a stamp on their local and regional scene. The band formed in the summer of 2016 and consist of Jeremy Isaacson (Bass/Vocals), Bryan Sedey (Guitar), Greg Koelling (Drums) and has since released released two full length albums. Their first album, Strange Worlds/Fierce Gods, came out of the gate hot and made for a strong debut. Strange Worlds/Fierce Gods was an intense ripper that kept your head banging through the entirety of its run time, and is a great foundation for what could be a very strong career in heavy music. The question is, “Does this new album keep that fire rolling?”
In the expansive metalverse, doom is my first love. When a band delivers a fat Iommi riff drenched in the fog of genre convention, I am content to sit, passively, in the palm of their momentarily almighty hand.
What ye may not know about this particular scribe is that, in addition to the doom, I also encountered a pretty sizable grunge period in my late teens. Stone Temple Pilots, Alice in Chains, et. al. were the name of the game, and the tropes associated with those melancholic wells still run deep in my musical preferences. Thus, when the two combine in unholy matrimony, my cold heart inevitably warms and weeps. This sentiment, of course, leads us to the track before us now--CELLARDOOR’s excellent debut single, released today.
Written by: The Voiceless Apparition
Greetings to all of you people today! I hope you are having a great day. Let me just start off by saying that Novembers Doom is criminally underrated. For the past 30 years these gentlemen have been gradually evolving with such ease, without alienating their fanbase. Within these past 10 years, Novembers Doom have been taking a more progressive direction with each album, to their credit it's working and I'm happy to tell you that Nephilim Grove is a masterpiece and continues their evolution with new ideas but without sacrificing where they started.
The album begins on a strong note with the leadoff tracks "Petrichor" and "The Witness Marks, the former of which utilizes vocalist Paul Kuhr's ever-blossoming range. Guitarists Larry Roberts and Vito Marchese come out of the gate with a flurry of heavy, chunky riffs and then even it out with gorgeous melodies to accompany Mr. Kuhr during the chorus. Fantastic drum work from Gary Naples who compliments the heaviness with tasteful double-bass and fill work.
Providing thoughtful reviews of music that is heavy, gloomy, and loud enough to wake us from slumber. Written by a groggy-eyed, highfalutin peasantry.
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