Vonairs - Fucamo single review

Year : 2013
Genre : House with a Hardstyle taste
Origin : Sweden
Official site : > - here - <

Stockholm's Vonairs is imminent to release a full scale sonic declaration of subwooffer-doom through an illegal space-time rift opening near you on the probable reality surface, and the ensemble is about to stimulate interest in the upcoming attraction via releasing a single from the impending full length. Read on to know more about this track, or, even better, listen to it yourself while observing some related worded thoughts about it, right after the experience is freshly soaked in.

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Meshuggah - Contradictions Collapse review

Year : 1991
Genre : Thrash Metal
Label : Nuclear Blast Records
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 9.1 / 10

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It probably is very easy to overlook the first full length affair of Sweden's Meshuggah, as this 1991 massively thrash contribution can not even be regarded as a spiritual precursor of what the music of said band has evolved to via their later operations that forms the face of metal to this very moment.

General consensus seems to be ultra-tepid and unacceptably deformed regarding the disc, as, despite my valiant efforts, I have failed to find and read a review that seems to reckon the delivery for what it really sounds to be. In other words : the 'fuck is up with you people? If not a single person is willing to rearrange related reality, then allow Yours, Truly to do so armed with an agenda and scientific rigor.

Meshuggah's Contradiction Collapse is doubtless influenced by a particularly good looking/angry image of early Metallica, but you would need to be supremely biased, I think, to fail to notice that this formation of youngsters - the Meshuggah dudes are in their early twenties by the era of the disc - are delivering a pretty much impertinently mature and complete variant of thrash metal which, to THIS very day emerges galaxies more relevant than say, the cartoon thrash metal of the latest to date Megadeth album, let alone the pinball road-motor sport "thrash metal" rhetorics - synonym : antics - of the latest to date Overkill series of facial ticks. Read on to find out more about this release, that packs infinitely more capacity to kick your ass to hell and back than you ever thought it does.

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Candlemass - Psalms for the Dead review

Year : 2012
Genre : Epic Doom Metal
Label : Napalm
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 4.0 / 10

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The reviewer is not important in a review, but now it is important to note that I'm a fan of Sweden. I'm an Abba fan, a Meshuggah nuthugger and meshuggah metal aficionado, and Swedish women seem to be beautiful cosmic constructs - though I've never met one in real life yet to this day - and Sweden sounds to have an interesting, funny native language, too. Tomas Ledin's timeless "Just Nu" drew my attention to this percept. Also, Sweden has the most high suicide rate in the world currently, which probably shows that they are deeply spiritual people. It is easy to kill yourself if you take yourself too serious. Like this release does with its last song, "Black As Time", more on that later. The reason I'm making these initial observations, is the following : I don't like the fact that yet again I must write bad things about a Swedish disc after the Diablo Swing Orchestra's latest output, because, believe you me, I wanted to love this release from Swedish doom metal ancients, Candlemass. But it is impossible, for me, because I find 75% of this release - to be modest - vastly underwhelming, non-inspired AND non-inspiring. Read on to find out more about this.

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Diablo Swing Orchestra - Pandora's Piñata review

Year : 2012
Genre : avant-garde, experimental, jazz, tropical, metal, swing, opera
Label : Candlelight Records
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 6.5 / 10

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Introductory note : this review was written by a latex gimp who had no information and related awareness of the existence of the Devil Swing Orchestra whatsoever, and, as such, this here criticism below of said ensemble's latest delivery primarily is constructed on the highly false assumption that DSO is a commercially engineered band that just popped into existence under the Sun to bank in on current experimental trends, which obviously is not the case at all, at all. While the review remains in the form it was originally shaped into as by he gimp, the reading of the comments to the article is highly recommended for the full experience.

SPECIAL!! Discount is applied to a wide selection of tools you can hit the gimp with! SPECIAL!!

With its latest delivery to date, Diablo Swing Orchestra emerges to claim a piece of the cake that is conceptualized and grandiosely realized by Canada's Unexpect, ALAS!, the tremendous intent behind this particular record represents a fuel tank of relevantly tamer full capacity than that of its focal inspirator. Do you think that it is unfair to compare this disc to Unexpect's Fables of a Sleepless Empire? Then kindly, take a look at the track titles, I'm begging you : Unexpect : Unsolved Ideas of a Distorted Guest. Diablo Swing Orchestra : The Exit Strategy of a Wrecking Ball. Cool, huh? Mine will be : The Parallel Lamentations of an Entangled Gas Giant. Look for it here, later on.

DSO's latest is a commercially engineered market-reaction to linked Canadian release in the sense that it shows mixed results - from stellar to tepid agony - at bringing you the rampant consistency that is necessarily "expectable", given its experimental, rabid opening tendencies. Do not judge a book by its cover. The fabric of this full length shows quite a few spots which on it loses all origin of steam and evident elegance it had earlier, and, while I realize that it is not a mandatory expectation to be steamrolled all the way through, I personally still tend to think that this kind of music looks best when it does that, anyway. Can't handle it anymore? Give it a thorough rest and come back with a fresh set of ears to be blown away again. Pretty pretty pretty please with strawberry syrup and chocolate confetti on top, don't try to serve me out with ball-lacking headvoice man-singing about your stock-emotional torments after a superb song just to deviate from a much more relevant narrative ethos, I'm begging you. Notice : this temper of music, when it reigns in its relentless premiere juggernaught-form, is only one story under technical death metal in its aggression, and not at all under it when scrutinized from the aspect of super-complexity.

As such, without further introductory sentiments I'm going to tell you right away that I think this release, with a set of mildly but steadily distorted ambitions-, a non-proper concept of its own functions and some non-tasteful genre incorporation - more on those in a second - weighs in as a tolerable disappointment. Not that there is any other kind of disappointment, in the long run. Read on to find out more about this legendarily overdirected and overambitious album that wants to be twice as relevant as it ever had the promise to.

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By Night - Sympathy For Tomorrow review

Year : 2012
Genre : Metalcore with a Hardcore mindset
Label : Independent
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 8.8 / 10

By Night's Sympathy For Tomorrow puts at least one reviewer into a pleasant position, because the music I personally found on the disc sounds to me as the epitome of well executed non-emo metalcore with a hardcore attitude kept intact throughout the way.

The characterology of the stimulus in my opinion consorts nicely to a blend between the music of recent day Biohazard without the "supportive nuclear radiation" - the beauty of music journalism - AND hefty-butt metalcore which shows exactly sub-zero interest in the teenager antics of salescurvecore and its themes revolving around breakup traumas, suicidal lamentations and the HORROR of seeing your neighbor seeing you seeing him with a rubber giraffe.

The By Night guys are doing an especially noteworthy job with their top of the heat guitar production work : everything they offer is clearly and precisely defined STUFF with full value sonic meat on it. Virtually no out-of-real-estate distortion is present enough to be bugged about it, and THAT is something to be tamely bugged about. The data emerges ripe, muscular without having to be bloated like a whale on war steroids as the latest Lamb of God. NO, I do not want to pick on that release, especially not after how I was kind of a douche with it, but notice this : Resolution is sooooo "senselessly massive" sounding at its most crowded places that the sheer weight sounds to overwhelm the actual details and intricacies actually being presented. It takes tremendous effort to actually make out and appreciate what is being played, some of the time. Reason I mention the premiere Pantera peers is my percept that By Night similarly wants to deliver you music with crystal clear thought behind it, but, giving its elements in equally crystal clear-, YET soberly limited fashion is top priority for this ensemble. This is a rare-, but always very pleasant approach to encounter and be graced by, as most bands will be content with soniccannoning you into your favorite submission for your money. Guys, let's talk about the music.

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Spawn of Possession - Incurso review

Year : 2012
Genre : Technical Death Metal
Label : Relapse
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 9.3 / 10

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Spawn of Possession's Incurso is a robust technical death metal release with 52 minutes of - not at all surprisingly - super-intense fractal complexity. The Sweden ensemble of illustrious characters put together a delivery which is a worthy flow of ripost to what the recent era of this exceptionally demanding subgenre has graced upon us.

Obscura, Gorod and Blotted Science are quick to come to mind when witnessing the rampant ways of this delivery, which, no doubt, has the obscene amount of work in it that, make no mistake, a technical death metal release necessarily demands during its own creation process, during its own evolution. Read on to find out more about this slick rebellion against silence.


The miserable critic finds itself in a pleasant position when graced by such eminent content as this disc is, as the music on this record simply reigns above the tools of criticism, regardless of the - phah! - sophistication level of those tools. The reason behind this is simple enough : technical death metal, when done even "remotely properly", is able to reveal such a pronounced index finger into the face of the epitome of all expectations, that the causality of being subjected to seemingly random-, but, in reality, extremely rigorously organized sonic content, to THIS very day equates to one of the most intense listening experiences a human nervous system can go through.

Technical death metal is a bitch AND a very mean at that, because it tolerates no lies, nor shortcuts. It only tolerates the pair of desire and devotion to submit to the steep urge to flatter the blind potentiality of chaos, with intent to draw million eyes and million faces for it, and pay for its intricate patterns with Godzilla workhours. In short, technical death metal already is in the position that it tolerates ONLY top of the heat audio content, no exceptions.

Everything less and anything less kills this music on spot. All bands that are playing technical death metal, need to create top of the heat content, because the standards already are super-high, courtesy of central declarations of the subgenre. As such, there is no need-, nor method for me on my part to "properly" tell you about the technical death metal music you will find on this spin, because words are not capable to reflect the experience of this music. All I can say, is that it is legit technical death metal, and that is NOT the same as saying it is legit power metal. I guarantee you that you will find a legit power metal band in every closet, you just need to search for a bit.

Delivering in this genre is much more demanding than, say, to create a superb progressive metal album, in which orthodox methodologies to narrate a musical thought, are totally acceptable. (Hell, even James LaBrie is totally acceptable in progressive metal!) In technical death metal, only intricately revealed chaos is acceptable, and everything else is dishonesty towards the intent-, towards the mission of this music. Beethoven is a technical death metal musician, have zero doubt about that, ladies and gentlemen.

This record brings intricately sculpted sonic chaos for 52 minutes. The experience, as hinted, is reminiscent in nature to the music you will find on the other great releases I have linked the review of for you in the intro section of this text. This sonic declaration of Spawn of Possession is greeted by its similarly monumental peers as a worthy partner to glorify the technical death metal subgenre with. The minds behind these albums are contemporary musical heroes willing to put tremendous workhours to bring you this level of deliciously obscene sonic intricacy, and you need to check them out as soon as possible, in my opinion.

Rating : 9.3 / 10

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Steelwing - Zone of Alienation review

Year : 2012
Genre : Heavy Metal
Label : NoiseArt Records
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 9.2 / 10

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Steelwing, fortunately enough, is still into the power metal ethos of the '80s, letting them deliver an album that is all about the charming cheese factor of the intense side of the era. Even better, the Sweden ensemble shows no interest in the most common and overused elements of the style, such as epic determination. The tone of the release, instead, is that of a larger than life-, hilarious sci-fi comic book mood, and it hardly is of accident that the tracks themselves openly reveal a likable, well restrained - ha., ha. - geeky fixation on the '80s entertainment industry. For example, one of the songs is called The Running Man, - see the superb sci-fi movie adaptation and read the book if you did not yet - while another one tributes aerial Anima warfare, and there are other funny references left to be discovered by you, as well.

It would be superwrong on your part if you'd think that the resultant stimuli of this delivery is shaped by everyday average geekdom, thinking that its "mere" love towards its subject matter makes you forgetful of its pessimistically assumable musical shortcomings. That is not the case. Shame on your for being a pessimist, you are wrong again. I dare say that Steelwing brings such an apt level of inventive, relevant power metal musicianship and a readiness to deliver abundant variation on 111% steam power, that they steadily emerge as a smooth operator of-, as a counter-inspirational rival force to the template established by power metal origo Iran Moiden. Or some band with a similar name, help me out here. (I'm the first human to write down "Iran Moiden", what is up with that, people? I'm also the first to write : "Let me help you, Jesus", which saddens me even more. Read on to find out subsequent percepts about this imaginative, gloom-free (thank fucking God for that) power metal delivery.


At heart, Zone of Alienation is classic Thundersteel - \m/ THUNDERST3333-333-333333L \m/ - warfare in a sense that the band never loses its sight from the intensified patterns and forms of the style. While fortunately all the musical power metal chordpassage-platitudes and chord-conflicts ARE present on the release, a masterful sense of what to do (and how to do) with this elements is central defining factorial of this ripe contribution. Do not be superfast with your judgment towards this release, as the spin is not reluctant to unleash comic book cheese cannons on you right after its tasteful atmospheric intro, and I, for one, was hesitant to appreciate the initial cheesebomb into my face. Moments later, my mood was converted without any opportunity given to lament if to reconsider. That is the primal charm of this release, I think. It brings extremely straightforward and rigorously realized musical ideas along the power metal compositional niche, but not for a second it seeks to depress you. I have nothing against the vocals herein, in fact, the singer dude is able to surprise you on quite a few occasions with awesome, pretty much unrealistically high pitched power metal veils, which is nothing short of epic, in my opinion. "Look, I have no balls, but I lack them epicallyyyyyyyyy!"

On another complementary note, I especially am satisfied with the melodic and instrumental content of the outing : the music is - the following is an inept but proper way to put it - "unusually" melodic on this spin, which is a certain trait to behold gratefully. The band, first and foremost, brings what legit, real deal paua metal has to bring at immediate threshold value, and with this act, it is efficient to register as nothing less than its "mere" self right away, but there is a fine catch to behold yet. Regardless how the results are totally satisfactory already, the band members always seek and find a way to put a little something extra to make it more melodic, more entertaining than what the basic fabric offers on its own stable merits. As result of this, the basic fabrics emerge as grateful sonic constructs on their own, having been skillfully and impertinently flattered by playful, yet sober deviations from their primer characteristics.

The LP produces an intimate-, and simultaneously intense sound that exhibits both a hilarious retro vibe and the polished freshness of contemporary production standards, refraining wisely from the raw, bombastic nuclear - oops. - sound other releases choose to cultivate. All in all, Steelwing - Zone of Alienation is a release I can't fathom how you could be disappointed by. One highly recommended, exigent, fun listen for sure.

Rating : 9.2 / 10

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Avatar - Black Waltz review

Year : 2012
Genre : Melodic Death Metal with Goth and Groove tendencies
Label : Gain Music Entertainment
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 8.2 / 10

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With its fourth full length declaration, Swedish Avatar delivers a ripe vision of its own intentions. The band has been around since 2001, making a name for themselves as supporting acts beside such well established squads as In Flames and Halloween, among many others. The Black Waltz LP, as a studio delivery, exhibits very interesting central characteristics. First and foremost, the band seemingly was not at all reluctant to refrain from recent day production trends, like the super-polished sound. On the other hand, this crystal clear kind of modus operandi consorts with a unique vision of sonic balance in the mixes. The name of the game herein is the relentless set of masterfully engineered biomechanic drum, which though simply is in love with all its surroundings, always making sure that it does not hurt the sonic integrity of the other instruments. It's interesting and fruitful that I have to write such a notion, as the album I reviewed before this one, seemed to have a tendency to overwhelm its own character with hyper-bloated drums. Avatar's latest, on the other hand, is a disc produced in an exceptionally sober manner, and now is the time to talk about the music, too. Guys, let's talk about the music.


Black Waltz is a surprisingly accessible melodic death metal release, which does not at all mean that it would be out there to seek family safe commercial appeal. That is not the case at all. The song structures simply are very easy to relate to-, to grasp unto, and they are ready to address their assets and sonic commodities in a straightforward fashion, courtesy of rigorously revealed logic reigning evident in their musically competent fabric. This is not the angst driven-, neurotic melodic death metal tailor made to reflect the capricious emotional tendencies or the favorite sentiments relating to the favorite computer game of an identity crisis resident in a teenager, it, instead, is "just" serious melodic death metal, composed of legitimate musical thoughts and luscious patterns. Some of these thoughts and patterns are more elegant than others, some are platitude, but this is the minority. For the most part, this release is able to reveal elegant patterns of brute, but inventive sonic force. I like this sentence so much that I will conclude this review with it.

Black Waltz, as an LP, thank God & Co., is free of any delusions of having to satisfy certain expectations as soon as possible, so the band looks good and "just" natural when they decide to take a stroll along AC/DC-ish 4/4 fistpumping action in track number 7, "Let it burn", for example. But notice the chorus : the chorus reeks Pantera and its double barreled shotgun groove metal. The southern double barreled shotgun coated by a cobra vibe is something the album is fond of relying on, but not with an over-indulgent tendency. But, with a quite prominent one, as the very next track, called "Next Touch", equally reeks Pantera. The fabric of this 55 minutes ride sports a reoccurring affection towards Goth-, and, do not be afraid : relative pop tendencies, too. The chorus of "Smells like a Freak Show" is pop. Phil Collins would be happy to sing this. (And he would sound much fucking better, too, but no offense to the singer of the chorus, as he gives a good average performance. Sorry, you know I'm a douché sometimes, and almost always when I'm criticizing music in pink latex lingerie.)

As noted, I especially am happy with how the release is sounding, as the miserable music critic would need to look for five eternities to come up with a legitimate death metal release sounding so eminently polished and still as grouchy as this baby does. The songcraft is good, exhibiting some blemishes here and there that prevent it from being great. Example : the chorus of the 11 minute LP concluder epic, "Use Your Tongue." Yes, the lyrics are puzzling, - "hate your neighbor, know your enemy, use your tongue to clean their rooms" (W.T.F.) - yes, the instrumental breakdown is superb, but the chorus sounds like a Cure song the original band would deny that they have ever recorded it. In my opinion, at least. If you love the chorus, amen and the most honest - tautology - bliss'o mine to that, of course. Please, do not let these truly minor subjective bitchwhinings put you off of the trail of this fine release though, as, for the most part, - 90%, that is - this release is able to reveal elegant patterns of brute, but inventive sonic force. See?

Rating : 8.2 / 10

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Dr. Livingdead - Dr. Living Dead review

Year : 2011
Genre : Thrash Metal Punk Crossover
Label : High Roller Records
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 8.0 / 10

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Dr.Livingdead's Dr. Living Dead is a counter-conspiracy audio device that makes the members of the Illuminati call it a wrap and tremble in fear in the nearest corner, - Alex Jones declares you the Leader of the Resistance and announces the State of Interplanetary Collapse in this recycled Special! News! Bulletin!, right after this premium product presentation - and, if that is not enough for you, you rebel scum, then know that the record has been produced by none other than your Legendary Death Master Fred Estby. Fred Estby, man, Fred Estby! If you have no obscure shallow purple of a clue whatsoever who Fred Estby is, then feel free to join THAT club, and prepare yourself for 36 minutes of contemporary Estby sound as Dr. Living Dead unleashes its variant of counter-thought controlling, all seeing lizardeye-staring crossover thrashpunk on your sorry hide. The truth is in there. I'm sane, the voices told me, too!


With a hilarious opening track entitled "World War Nine", the record leaves nothing to be desired in the department of larger than life-, violent action cartoon warfare. The LP is divided to 16 tracks of short sharp shrapnel impacts, and not a single one of those hits the 3 minutes mark. The album is safe, enthusiastic thrash-worship fun via a method that tends to register as a friendly blend of Sex Pistolsian punk and Slayeresque - WTF??! - thrash metal, with a tint of Voivod surfacing up in it from time to time, too. The album packs a superb, old school, nihilistic thrash sound with well defined middleweight musculature and a vile grin, and notable emphasis is placed on the different frequency domains, too. In other words : the album, thank God and Co., does not revolve around the continuous act of stalking out of shape riffs on the open bottom strings. The tempos and the structures of the record are soberly varied within a certain set of compositional limits, the lyrics are hilarious, - "this is the END, we're getting OLD, we're getting FAT, DEAD! END! LIFE!" and the whole album shows a trusty, steady thrash character with a solid understanding of its potentials and capacities. 36 minutes is a perfect length for this style.

The furious pacing is interrupted here and there by a mid-paced build with legit, melodic rhythmic riffing - track called "My Brain Is For Sale" is an example - giving the record apt opportunity to handle ignition mode at its own consent afterwards. Make no mistake : this is 90%-, if not 95% intense thrashing throughout, and the eloquent kind of it, too. The release does more complex and elegant things instrumentally and rhythmically than the ever-cultivated Ultimate Intensity of the release lets you recollect at first, so, in my opinion it is worth directing your attention to the little subtleties the band pulls the moustache of the sleeping beast with.

Dr. Livingdead's Dr. Living Dead causes no unwanted-, obtrusive surprises, and it is more than a record that serves out rudimentary thrash cravings, like this baby sounds to do, in my opinion. Dr. Living Dead lives up - hah! - to it's demanding name, and delivers unalloyed retroid thrash attack power reeking the charisma of a violent ballpoint pen drawing. You want this, Lover.

Rating : 8.0 / 10

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Sherlock Brothers - Black Cat Tango review

Year : 2011
Genre : Alternative Rock with a Groove Metal temper
Label : Ninetone Records
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 8.6 / 10

Sherlock Brothers gives you a fronter with a condition that is not too rare to behold, and it is called TIPAF. The Immense Philip Anselmo Fixation, my love. This man tries to sound exactly like the Phil, as it could be evident to you if you decide to listen to the chorus of LP opening track "Rollin'". There is a video available for that song, too, which you can check out here, and you can hear that I'm no lie. Oh my. (YouTube this then : "pale kid raps fast".)

Black Cat Tango is all about the hefty hookhunt, and, about accessibility, in which the top moments are signified by the fronter's Philip Anselmo imitation, because he especially likes the tazmanian devil variant of the style. As result of this dormant decision, almost all songs on this LP have the tendency to revolve around a chorus with supremely heavy vocals on top. Not a tragedy, because, the Philip Anselmo clone of the release actually does a pretty solid job, and it is worthwhile to scrutinize how this style of vocal delivery is capable to sell itself on top of music that is tamer in character than the relentless rumble of groove metal. Read on to find out more about this friendly, energetic alternative rock release that dares to cultivate sex-only type relationship with groove metal.


I admit I was kind of an initial douché towards the lead singer, because, as the record progresses, you will notice that he has the propensity to deliver in his own voice AND sounds good doing it, - !!totally like Dave Grohl from Foo Fighters!! - and he relies on the Philip Anselmo Tazmanian Devil register only when the music submits to more radical shapes. Suffice it to say that the Sherlock Brothers frontman has put respectable efforts to imitate his idols, and has significant talent to approach the original efficiency level of the respective arch-forms of these registers, too. Now that this recognition is out of the way, the character of the music can be addressed, too.

Black Cat Tango is an interesting bird in the sense that it has an equal leaning towards a heavier side of chuggy mid-paced pummeling that borders on groove metal in character, and a risk free accessibility that, at heart, enjoys full family friendliness like Foo Fighters. Foo Fighters is your bestestest online buddy's favoritestest band like : since forever!!. This band, Sherlock Brothers though, no doubt represents an interesting take on the BLEND of its most important influences, and, needless to say, the "mere" act of blending these primer impacts is what the record's ultimate value graces your awareness as. The record commits only a few mistakes, and those mistakes are fun, too. Like a segment in track number 6, called "Down". (Is the name "Down" another Anselmo tribute?) In this particular track, a ripost-backing vocal goes Boyz 2 Men on you mercilessly, and it withdraws viciously when you already have grown yer' Them Men Boobs on yourself. Aua.

The record is a rather flamboyant, and, I dare say, strong collection of easily decipherable alternative rock that is able to reveal apt composition work and elegant thought. Sure, it is reminscent to Foo Fighters, but, hell, it is WILDER and much less saloon-, much less well-mannered, which I think is funny to watch, funny to listen to. This deviancy from the Foo Fighterish "somepartofmealwaysisyours, and lamdidamdadoo" telltale-bonefire rhetorics is the result of the groove metal gas tank the release does not relent refilling from, thankfully preventing it from going "don't wanna beeee your monkeeeey wreeee eeench".

TUKK!

This release also seems to have a rather conscious strategy to prevent itself. See how important one letter can be? Of course I meant "s". With 41 minutes of showtime divided amidst 12 sonic moodflares, only one particular track rises above the 4 minutes mark, and 9 clocks in during the 3 minutes domain. This is not accidental, trust me. This delivery openly-, and efficiently SEEKS to be an easily accessible collection of 12 hefty-, short-and-sturdy alternative rock fixes, and, to tell you the truth, it is pretty serious about it, too. A record of dignity, strength and energy that is not afraid to deny its influences, quite the contrary : it embraces them and builds something meaningful and relevant out of them. This is not only acceptable, but advisable. Album totally recommended.

Rating : 8.6 / 10

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Feared - Rejects review

Year : 2011
Genre : Groove Death Hybrid
Label : Independent
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 9.2 / 10

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Feared is a project of this young man, primarily, and you want to keep an eye on the workings of this musician. The fabric of the sound of his latest to date groove death hybrid - as this is what I decipher this spin to be - is so abundantly full and soberly crowded at the same time than the act of hiding a flex straw in it almost is impossible. It is abundantly rich indeed, yet does not collapse under its own weight at all. It moves with elegant convince power and avid T-Rex dignity, keeping the rampant shapes it is fond of revealing well defined and clear in their mere sonic mass. Rejects is an album that sounds to have all kinds of radical doubts and caveats regarding the state of existence, so expect an LP that is openly out there to hunt you down and waste your hide on spot. Scarce are the times that the release goes mid-tempo, and, even when it does, the repressed-, lurking aggression remains super-evident, and it is never can contained for too long without being expressed avidly in the sonic fabric again.

Feared's latest has a set of favorite musical behaviors, and the name of the primer game evidently is Pantera's T-Rex being on one of its cavernous rampages, but, this time, the Animal sports cable veins, red semaphore eyes and hot steam breath, and comes to affect your musical receptors with such elaborately layered multi-guitar death-squadron work that the results have a tendency to border on a great sense of analog industrial, ye!. You have to admire this album for the "who gives a shit, really" attitude it truly emerges a triumphant representative of along its rampant way. Track number 5, called "Grmph!" - hmpf - starts out with highly intellectual "let's hack music" jazz Joe Scofield would nod on, but, at the endpoint of the gesture, you are subjected to exceptionally rabid groove metal, playfully, haughtily flattering the robust nature of unforgiving death standards. Read on if you are ready to be sonically devoured.


For a little amount of time, the record ventures on to cautiously experiment with djent for one series of bars or two - track called Godlike - and this variation, this take on odd rhythmization is something the contribution looks more flamboyant and well balanced with, especially considering how the consecutive direct occurrences are once again projecting lights on the supremely aggressive side of groove death collision the record is primordial dire spawn of.

The best aspect of this LP is the mere weight it communicates itself with. As noted, this is so brutally and relentlessly crowded with mean fat guitars full of bad intent that it truly is a feat to witness and hear how they emerge as a functional sonic mess nevertheless. The vocals are very skillfully "painted" - in a good, well defined way - over these robust blocks of sound structures, never seeking to claim or to inhabit dear frequency room from the deeps, and they compliment the riff-monsters as mid-range faces that are drawn on the deeps, instead. A very sober, elegant production decision.

The vocal contribution, for the most part, is a pissed off effected grunting like Philip Anselmo would have the Incredible Hulk going on, - on track number 9, the melodic singing is a "look! I'm an Anselmo fanboy!" statement, and I personally find nothing wrong with that, because look!, I'm an Anselmo fanboy, too! - while, during the more soulful instrumental breaks and quasi-metalcorish choruses, orthodox clean singing is utilized. These sequences are way better though than standard metalcorish melodrama bullshitsniffing, and the reason for this is the record's consistent agenda to stick for quite steep musical standards as far as "mere" melodic invention, riffcraft and legit idea-administration are concerned, which are top of the food chain aspects of the related hopes worth sculpting and cultivating. Also elements this record delivers commandingly, relevantly and seriously along. Not much else to say regarding the matter. This album is out to destruct, you are in its way, and you want to press play.

Rating : 9.2 / 10

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The Unguided - Hellfrost review

Year : 2011
Genre : Metalcore
Label : DespotZ Records
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 4.0 / 10

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Hellfrost is in a hurry to claim all tops of all mountains reigning on moral high grounds, as the band's "melodic death metal" debut starts out with a blaming index finger in humanity's face, and, as it turns out, it has this fixation on keeping it close to that particular collective nose all the way through the spin. So, expect a "melodic death metal" album which isn't that at the first place, because, this sounds much more like family friendly metalcore with tastefully sculpted electronic elements. If you find yourself in the hurry right away to advice me to choke on a row of dead anacondas for not acknowledging this release for what it is on PAPER, then do yourself the courtesy of checking out track 3 on this release, called "Betrayer of the Code" : - oops, Freud nods¿? This is pretty standard metalcore with the weightless fake screaming and some nice goth synths as extra on top. Insomnium's great One for Sorrow DOES sound like melodic death. But this sounds as metalcore, yes, salivated chorus included. Guys, let's talk about the music.


As noted, The Unguided's debut, for the most-, if not for all the part of it, sounds to me like very disciplined, family friendly metalcore stimuli - yupp, even your mom in those hair rolls nods on this music, because she secretly enjoys a chorus from that handsome young man - with quite skillfully/safely provoked production values. The Hellfrost chorus, as an autonomous entity herein, could be the catharsis of any soft rock song, and the main-, yet only deviations from those the record is able to present are the results of the fact that now you are hearing these soft rock choruses with angry, fat guitars at their bases, and there you have your screamo dudette as well, who has the sole function to repeat every single fucking line the lead singer is singing IS SINGIIIIIING! and it is annoying like ass LIKE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSS!!

It is notable that the record shows NO notable struggles to deliver relevance beyond the song template it is utilizing, and comes steadily and sorrowfully short in the department of serious entertainment, in my opinion, and here is why : granted, a little bit of effort is put into the verse, then you get your soft rock chorus, - synonym : cheap way out, congratulations - and, you are lucky if a techno-spiced interlude is coming your way yet in the fabric before your receptors being subjected to yet another verse and yet another chorus. You have just been served, biatch. Track number 7 called "Green Eyed Demon" is a thorough example of how 75% of this album sounds to me like. It has SOME better moments, - none of which I could regard exceptional or worth revisiting - but few and far between, and all drowning miserably in the galore of "so what." grade soft rock metalcore choruses.

I like the intentionally computerized/cybernetized guitars in track number 8, called "Iceheart Fragment", and the inevitable soft rock chorus of the song sounds extremely shitty after the sexy cybernetic guitars of the verse, at least in the world I seek to project. This release has an awesometicularly hard time delivering a chorus I can give a dime with two lost holes in it for, and I have no extra intention to make The Unguided fan even more angry of me then she/he probably already is, so I will attempt to wrap this review up on a more positive note, as I have no desire of coming across as a megatroll who wants to spoil your enjoyment. No, I want you to have it, and have the possible best of it, and my opinion is that what The Unguided's debut gives is not that, but a row of play-it-safe alibi declarations that seek to serve out your assumed-, extremely low level needs without any capacity or desire to calibrate, to elevate those levels at the first place. If you are serious about your melodic death metal fix, check out Insomnium's One for Sorrow, which is a vastly superior and serious release. I must admit that I think there are some pretty thoughtful lyrics on this The Unguided debut album, more precisely : thoughtful lines in some of the lyrics, - "some wounds are not meant to be heal at all", "no one comes to love pain, we can only hope to endure it" - but, as for the music, this one still is below average fantasy action figure toy-metalcore to me. These guys need to put immense efforts into their song writing capabilities in my opinion, because what I have heard on this release from a musical point of view, is relentless metalcore mediocrity delivered with top of the heat production tools.

Rating : 4.0 / 10

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Vildhjarta - Masstaden review

Year : 2011
Genre : Djent with ambient elements
Label : Century Media
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 6.5 / 10

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Sweden Vildhjarta - geSUNtheit, Mein Herr - invades your receptors with a concept album that embraces its narrative influences from the Jungle Book and the video role playing game Final Fantasy VII. On paper, this band plays djent, in reality, a good amount of this sounds like pretty disturbed metalcore warfare to me, and here is why : that massive chunk of this baby is gravitating around the continuous act of scattering/littering artificially "portioned" djent patterns around on top of mid-tempo metalcore rhythms, but all the good will in the whole wide world would be less than enough to keep your poker face intact while attempting to regard ALL the content herein as really-really intricately rhythmized.

Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnope.

A healthy amount of this release sounds like heavily syncopated metalcore, - without the corporal punishment choruses, luckily - and the things it looks way better than just that with, are not ever-present on it, unfortufuckingnately.

This almost exclusively is a mid-tempo release, and it is hard to get rid of the feeling that the record shows everything it has the capacity to show right in the first 5 minutes of it. And you are wrong about it, too, because Masstaden has its 10 minutes of strongest offerings at its climax, and these deliveries are more flamboyant builds than you could realistically hope for by witnessing the massively metalcorish start and the middle region of this relatively lopsided declaration.

Combine the - usually - not too risky, nor too inventive schizo rhythm patterns with your everyday average metalcore bonobo screaming, - sometimes complimented by a more death metalish growl, so what. - add half a minute of smoke on the water ambient interlude every 5 minutes, and you have a precise impression of this contribution, which would pack much more entertainment value and relevance if to bring more of what it looks best with. Read on to find out more about this release.


Vildhjarta starts out efficiently enough, but, as hinted, it has a limited initital supply to offer true relevance beyond syncopated rhythmic attractions, and probably this is the reason that the best parts of the spin will start to engage your receptors well beyond the midsection. This LP also contains ambient interludes, but they rarely serve other purpose than to sedate the miserable with alibi-glitter when the monster in the djent would be a risk to awake. Actual musical development and relevant variation is not ever-evident on this spin, which makes me an unhappy boy.

The starting portion of Vildhjarta's Massteden is one, single, psychotic song composed of muted/released shrapnels of deep chugs, but no, they do NOT reveal all too complex or exciting rhythms as they want you to recognize them as. Fear not, Sunshine! After the track 8th mark - oorgle! - things turn to the better, because there is only 1 dosage of bonobo screaming you need to endure before the LP finally starts to negotiate its Cream De La Cream, pha.

Track number 10, called "All These Feelings" finally starts out with an inventively rhythmized riff, in fact, so inventively rhythmized, that the band instead drops it after a minute, and escapes to ambient arpeggio. Auuuua. The release has a stronger period nevertheless in the ending portion, track number 12 "Deceit" once again features delicious, odd rhytmization you can finally take serious because it gives you the same courtesy, but, to be honest, the bonobo screaming that joins in, ruins the experience for me. "Emencely".

Though Vildhjarta's Masstaden could very easily be decipherable as a record that repeats itself over and over and over and over in the same sonic frequency, - probable courtesy of the lowest possible note being banged mercilessly on an 8 stringed guitar - there are elements on it that are better than they sound first. Yet, as a full spin, above average at BEST.

Rating : 6.5 / 10

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Pain of Salvation - Road Salt Two review

Year : 2011
Genre : Progressive Rock
Label : InsideOut
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 9.3 / 10

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Swedish progressive rock brigade Pain of Salvation brings you the classic kind of the genre with fluent elegance and as chiseled of super-tasty production values as they come. If Opeth's latest sounds like it was recorded in 1969, one could make the argument that this record also comes to you as the music of 1969, "only" with absolutely top of the heat production qualities, and this is not something this music review site Noise Shaft easily says.

This record is rendered in a crystal clear, immensely well researched and superbly focused fashion, and is beyond all doubts capable to produce an intensely intimate, tight/wide - as you prefer - listening experience. Pain of Salvation's latest contribution sounds lush, tender, and also properly crisp and gritty where things demand, showing constant, relentless focus to address its favorite moods with convince power that reigns pretty much beyond criticism in character. How much of-, and how many times you give what you can, is something of a different matter.

The one possible - and absolutely optional - qualm regarding this release also comes through as one of its central charms : the album does everything in such a tight and richly sounding fashion, that its various methodologies are becoming relatively repetitious by character when nearing the middle section of the spin. This, though, is only a similarity of character in the songs and methodologies, and, if someone would say that it is a totally acceptable-, or, in fact, beneficial attribute of a record, then this position should be respected. Read on to find out more about this release, which probably makes Timothy Leary a happy observer and a happy dancer. No, looks like he did not object.


While having a peaceful, observant stance towards the surrounding things at heart, Road Salt Two shows equal readiness to compliment the shadowy aspects of things, and these sequences reveal an elegant kind of strictly constrained sludge. This sludge does not seek to crush you into spirit pulp, it instead seeks to entertain, which is a very rare behavior from this musical direction, and also a true privilege to greet. The album never seeks to depress, quite the contrary : this spin sounds to be one positive outlook on perspectives, and reigns as a precise counter-pointing to Opeth's latest, - fellow countrymen, too - that which depicts a much more negativistic stance revealed in the body of the exact same genre of classic progressive rock.

Road Salt Two is practically packed with super-muscular songs that glorify the '70s with contemporary tools within a contemporary environment, and, you do not even need to be a fan of the genre itself to find yourself staggered by the honest brilliance this record is presented along. If you think that some elements of this LP probably sounds obsolete, you are as far from the truth as Satan is from spontaneous enlightenment, because, this spin is fresh as dew. Once again : the tracks on this release are especially dainty, and well constructed. There is a whole lot to gratefully soak your ear into, as the record features a truly playful variant of whatever it chooses to feature. The guitars are well defined AND very properly gentle at once, the bass is "funnily fat", sort of chubby, and still has luscious curves, and the drum work sounds like the drummer is right beside you with his set, and his playing is full of pleasant surprises, never seeking to / having to demand full efficiency from his gear in order to give you a superb time.

That little stringed instrument in the track called Healing Now, for example : the sonic experience is occurring right in front of you, with crystal clear instruments, that intentionally refrain from emerging to be intimidating as a sonic mass. The whole thing sounds like a proper-, and absolutely great bard-performance, only without the power metal fantasy cheese factor you would normally be afraid of as something you will likely have to painfully endure along the way. Or, the restrained, secretive anger in the track called Eleven : this is a nice example of sludge having a playful time as opposed of moving for the kill right away. A fun fact : this track has nothing to do with this track with the same title Eleven.

As for the similarities of patterns in this exquisite fabric, the album sounds to have a tad more of the over-emotional quasi-acapella singing for my personal taste when cultivating the troll reality tunnel for a second or two, and the same can be told about the superficially elegant jam sessions of the output. While these sequences unleash totally fine and sharply defined funk elements, it is not at all hard to notice that the band usually shows only restrained intent to stroll away from a groove they place an elegantly curved introductory butt on. You will soon find out that the butt itself is the attraction, most of the time - notice the hidden words of wisdom - as it won't go anywhere. The tasty jam sessions are extremely quick to reveal their ultimate-, at heart simplistic character, and they weigh in as a fine material to connect surrounding elements, but they show relatively little autonomous will to exist, let alone progress on their own terms.

These qualms though are pointing to only majorly minor - aua - semi-blemishes in the fine fabric of this lush and elegant accomplishment, and chances are that you won't find a single moment you would dismiss with a face serious if you are a proper fan of this style. As hinted, this record is an immediate benchmark as far as production values, because, Road Salt Two sounds flawless both for what it wants to do, and as a testament of a supremely diligently developed sonic experience, all for the love of lush music. An optimistic, muscular baby with skin as tight as the surface of a balloon filled with fresh water, and you want to hear this.

Rating : 9.3 / 10

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Opeth - Heritage review

Year : 2011
Genre : Progressive Rock
Label : Roadrunner Records
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 7.0 / 10

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Opeth's latest material was recorded in the early portion of 2011, which does not at all stop it from sounding like it was recorded during 1969. This isn't necessarily a frightening development, it is more like a result of the group's palpably conscious and rigorous decision to offer a contribution that has a deeply traditional character, one that supremely conservatively refrains from any utilization of recent day wizardry, rejecting the act to crave bitter validation from the suspected grace of being called modernistic, and, as such, somewhat relevant. Opeth's latest is the music of a deeply, even deeeeeeeply depressed Black Sabbath, that momentarily chose to be crushed by its own misery as opposed to be enraged enough about it to summon the energy to do something against it instead. In other words : this record is gloomy like a series of funerals, but also rather honest at that. If you want to see your soul being covered in thick layers of black spirit tart, read on. If you already have that on, then congratulations, please read on anyway.


This record's strongest point is its deeply respectable honesty to simultaneously reveal, address and embrace the seemingly unalloyed disillusionment it chooses as its main theme, and this honesty is strong enough on its own to make the delivery stand proud and solid as your trusty resonator of the pretty much ever-present sadness and relative bitterness that is served to you, all in the spirit of 1969.

The tracks themselves are extremely straightforward arrangements with friendly and accessible character to them, but the stories they have to share will always want to draw a black pattern in you, and their intent to do so is not hidden at all, since all of them are carrying five fucking buckets of black paint and have a paintbrush as a head, so the deal is made very clear right from the beginning. And you know what, there is a whole lot of space to fill in a psyche, so, if your thing is to cultivate a black room in your soul and are looking for furniture, Opeth's latest just served you a rather thick Ikea catalog.

As noted, the album's sound is that of a semi-psychedelic, semi-doomy - thank you, thank you - blend with supremely traditional Woodstock instrumentalization present. The album sounds with a very elegant bite nevertheless, but these teeth leave a print you have some marks on your ass of already. A notable portion of the delivery is devoted to present simplistic, but, in their own regards, no doubt acceptable statements involving solitary acoustic guitar pairing up with a solitary - and stationary - piano. The record has a very limited intent to go intense, but let me tell you this : the Opeth guys can make top of the heat intense music, the "now" is simply does not seem to be the time for them to do that. The glances on the intense side of Opeth you are allowed to catch during the record, are much luscious, in my opinion, than the deep gloom which is the prime character of the release. But, if now Opeth's need was to deliver gloom, then so it shall be, and they should not be criticized for submitting to the intent that had to be expressed, and, as such : satisfied.

Opeth's Heritage has nothing risky, nor nothing weak at all to offer, and there is nothing wrong with that, either. It's just that that you already have heard this music when Ozzy Osbourne declared his paranoid tendencies, only THAT time THIS music was roaring like a T-Rex nearing a nervous breakdown, and now it : weeps. There is nothing wrong with weeping. But the after is always better than the during.

Rating : 7.0 / 10If you liked this article, check out my music

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