Cauldron - New Gods

The Canadian province of Ontario has long been a haven of traditional heavy metal and speed metal bands, including Anvil and Exciter for starters, and not unworthy of being mentioned, the extreme thrash outfit Slaughter which released the seminal early death metal album Strappado in 1987. One would need a ledger to detail all of the bands that have stayed true to heavy metal’s vision in the sordid halls of Toronto and its neighboring cities. Among those bands, at the top of the crop should be mentioned Cauldron, a band that has existed for just over a decade under the guidance of Jason Decay and Ian Chains.

Before the so-called new wave of traditional heavy metal was even a catchphrase to describe bands that were paying homage to acts like Anvil, Saxon, old school Priest, and Maiden, Cauldron was coming up out of the remains of Goat Horn; one would need to trace the lineage of Decay and Goat Horn back a decade further, and I would highly encourage you to watch the “Rotten Roll” video, even if you have already done it 1000 times, as I have. In 2009, Cauldron released their debut full length, a banger called Chained to the Nite, an album that set the precedent for what anyone else should be doing to respect true metal. With Goat Horn’s drummer Jason Mellish providing a kick behind the melodies and rhythms, the power trio accomplished an album that easily stood on an equal level with just about anything that came out two decades earlier. In an age of copycats and has-beens, Cauldron exercised an organic chemistry with an innovative mindset, implementing formulaic precision with the raw sleaze of 80s rock stars. It could not be done without the cerebral mindset of three passionate Millenials who were conjuring up a scene from the past, but under their own banners.

New Gods is Cauldron’s fifth full length in a decade and a follow up to the critically acclaimed In Ruin. The album takes the band in a slightly different direction, albeit not too far from what has pleased many of their fans. New Gods is a slow and heavy tribute to old-school arena rock and traditional heavy metal bands that emphasized more on formula than on face melting showmanship. The riffs still provide high energy, such as on the track “Letting Go”, which stays at a crawling tempo building up to a straightforward chorus. This song, like many on the album, has a simple pop template that emanates out through gritty aesthetic of metal.

Surrendering machismo for soul and depth, New Gods greatest moments shine through on its bluesy ballads. However, the intensity favorable to thrashers and headbangers isn’t completely absent, as evident on the righteous skull bashing track “Drown,” and “Last Request” rips right down the length of this album’s conclusion.




New Gods has very little to offer in terms of outrageous excess, complex arpeggios, and theatrical amusement. On the other hand, Cauldron does continue on the beaten path of their formatted mid-tempo brooding riff rock, which has worked out quite well for them. New Gods blares out an amalgam of Angel Witch and Ratt, an odd combination in theory that considerably works out quite well for them in practice. 

New Gods is available for purchase here.

Spaceslug - Eye The Tide

Honoring everything from Hawkwind to Kyuss, Spaceslug explores space and sludge with incredible finesse. As the band maps out their course through celestial fuzz and doomed riffs, vocalist Bartosz Janik serenades with a gifted drawl. With very little backing them, the Polish unit has come out swinging; Eye The Tide is one of the best albums in the genre this year, and it far surpasses anything that Spaceslug have already done.

Eye The Tide is not an album you want to pass up. Seven tracks and about an hour of a creative vision that encompasses the best of post-metal. Conjured up from the darkness, the ominous bass breathes life into smokey guitar melodies that pay tribute to infinite cosmic gods. Primal stoner grooves add the essence of rock & roll, creating human substance from this audible trip.

Plummeting from the vastness of eternity, Spaceslug gifts us with graceful waves of riffs. Surrender to the cleansing waters of “Eternal Moments”, before being blown away on gusts of wind with the embers of “Words Like Stones.” In time those embers build up into an all-consuming blaze and the song becomes a meteor shower of sludge. Transcending the formulas, engross with an abundance of style and technique. “Vialys I” washes you up on a shore for a breather, and leaves you there for the perplexing build up on “Vialys II” before dragging you back out into the psychedelic cloud. “I, The Tide” is an unpredictable eleven-minute voyage through a plethora of energies that culminate into a final insurmountable doom riff that will leave you wanting more.

The musicianship on Eye The Tide is tight, spontaneous, and borrows from no shortage of influences. Before you realize you are engrossed in a treasured rhythmic dream, you will be crushed by the unrelenting dirge.

Integrity/Krieg Split

Combining two behemoths like Krieg and Integrity into one split is a near guarantee that the walls are going to tremble and floors will shake with blackened hardcore infused grooves. Cascading out of your listening device is a rapture of soul sucking metal from two veteran elite bands from their respective communities. Integrity are considerably far more mature and delve into sinister depths that are unlike the usual hardcore ilk of their Victory Records roots. It is reasonable to imagine that Dwid Hellion’s creative juggernaut would fit magnificently with the corrosive audible spawn of New Jersey’s Krieg. Their blackened branches may extend into different places but stem from the same bile.

It’s no surprise that Integrity kicks the door down with relentless force on “Scorched Earth,” a song that starts like screeching tires just before a car wreck before opening up into a maelstrom gut wrenching leads and palm muted riffs that tear at the psyche. Crashing and burning from out of the abyss lands Dwid Hellion, a charismatic enigma who somehow manages to contain all of the energy at his back and disperses it into malevolent guttural howls.

Yep, I think I’m going to like this split; Integrity’s transformation from metalcore (not that nicely polished 2000s stuff, mind you) into a legitimate blackened unit could not be any more successful. From the D-Beat inspired “Sons of Satan” to the unstoppable assault on “Flames of the Immortal”, Integrity are still provoking the hordes with intense creative bursts of sonic warfare.

Further tracing their lineage back to the vault of old school hardcore punk, Integrity performs a cover of G.I.S.M’s “Document One.” To put it simply, this song kicks ass and Integrity did a wonderful job of capturing the spirit of the original song while staying true to their own sound.

And then you have Krieg, a band with a storied reputation in the USBM scene, and if “Circle of Guilt” should tell you anything it is that they will have the mana to follow up Integrity. Their first track is a sick dose of negativity. Hammering down with a vicious force that will penetrate your will to live, Krieg’s pair of unreleased recordings and a live version of “The Sick Winds Stir the Cold Dawn” will leave any USBM purist salivating for more sonic dread.

Morag Tong - Last Knell of Om

Elegant. Progessive. Compelling. Those are three words that I would use to describe the music of Morag Tong. There is surely something enchanting about the group’s slowly moving psychedelic melodies, and then they hit you with eye-opening heavy rhythms of doom that come with a specter of death. Last Knell of Om offers sensuality with tenacity, mystique with brutal cadence, and harmonies that lure you into passive submission. This is exactly the kind of music that should be envisioned when I see the name Morag Tong.

Foremost in the big chunk of things I did with my life that took up way too much time for my own good was play video games. You are probably aware of Bethesda’s popular and hugely successful title called The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, but nearly a decade before that was released, the giant world of Morrowind was created and for a long time it was my deliverance from the cruel shackles of this mortal world.

Around that same time period between the years of 2003 and 2006, the heavy metal underground and in particular the doom subgenres opened up before me; as I traveled through the misty shores of Morrowind’s Bitter Swamp region and scaled ash mountains beyond the Ghostfence, Electric Wizard and Candlemass accompanied me on quests into a strange world of xenophobic mystical dark elves.   

I would like to think that members of this band were sharing the same experiences all the way out in London. Morag Tong is the name of an assassin cult that perform legal writs of execution against uppity out of line nobles all throughout Morrowind, and this atmosludge group from the UK had some heavy shoes to step in when they assumed their name.

Ethereal and otherworldly, Morag Tong dance around the primal substance at the axis of the music. The overwhelming drumming from Adam Asquith and hypnotic bass of James Atha carry a palate of eclectic melody that pulls in a multitude of directions.

The tones add depth down the surreal path of Alex Clarke and Lewis Crane’s spellbinding and often empowering chords. The Last Knell of Om is a sonic bath of realization, a cryptic invitation, and probably too cool for most.

I can honestly say that if this were a terrible album I would have shit all over it with the ferocity of an angry Nord on 15 bottles of Sujamma, but finding a band that pays tribute to my favorite video game of all time without even sucking really gets my mood to some nifty plateaus.

Do you need to spend over 1800 hours on the third installment of The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind to get Morag Tong? Absolutely not. Does the backdrop of that beautiful region of Tamriel provide a splendid template for where this album will take you? Of course, it does, but without it, you may likely see yourself through the doors of your own imagination and discover a fantastic place beneath the layers of Morag Tong’s atmospheric fuzz.

Khemmis - Desolation

Khemmis have cultivated a pretty awesome following in the few years that they’ve been around, as a result of their successful debut Absolution and the immediate follow up Hunted, the Denver based unit have risen up to the status of doom metal elite very quickly. With all eyes on them, expectations are a bit severe, considering they’ve only been relevant for about three years; however as the rule of nature goes, once you dive in, you either sink or swim.

Desolation stays true to the spirit of how Khemmis have done things with a sharp and meticulous artistry that unravels a broad picture of their musical influences. Not content to sit on one wave and ride it, Khemmis have meddled in a variety of forces that culminate into a beautiful diverse lexicon of doom.

Desolation maintains that potent and tight musicianship which brought Khemmis to the metal vanguard. On the edges of classic rock and desert psychedelic bliss, their harmonies provide atmospheric layering to a storm of heavier doom trodden moods. This is the kind of composition that one might anticipate from band that has already proven to be capable of so much. Their ability to weave styles together without faulting themselves on fragmented escapades that lead nowhere is an exceptional trait, and it may hold for good if there aren’t any changes which result in changes to the elementary fabric of the band.

Foreboding and bone chilling, “Bloodletting” is a tragic poetic introduction that subtly leads down the path through to curb stomping tempos and eye awakening magic within catchy stoner licks. This song sets the doctrine for what you are probably already in the know; what you’re getting here is an open door into heavy metal’s future, which appears to be secured and well on the altar of Khemmis. The stylistic rhapsodies on Desolation brought forth with charming efficiency and depth provoke thoughtful mature images. Khemmis casts a worthy lot with this cascade of riffs sweeping down from the Mile High City. 

The shifting dynamics of Ben Hutcherson and Phil Pendergast as formidable co-frontman keep an interesting twist on tones. The elegant and sometimes ethereal vocals of Pendergast are like a melodic oasis in an otherwise treacherous landscape of morose and ominous riffs forecasting niches of black and sludge. Hutcherson has evolved a bit since Hunted, showing a noticeable capability to diversify his growls and powerful shrieks, and his ill portents on “Maw of Time” particularly gave me goosebumps and sank into my skin. The contrasting forces of Hutcherson and Pendergast are like an eerie revelation of light and dark transmogrifying into angelic and hellacious expression. Pendergast’s admirable ranges and hooks provoke a robust body of emotion as the band depicts cinematic story with bewitching grace.’

“From Ruin” brings the album around full circle, with an assurance of new found strength in darkness as a lasting resolution.

If you are a fan of metal with thick bluesy guitar solos guided by that rich 70s rock vibe, and rich harmonies surrounded by a forest of dissonant guitar gloom, then Desolation is an album that you will surrender yourself to time and time again.

Album Review: Orange Goblin - The Wolf Bites Back

Thank the gods, Orange Goblin have returned from the sludge heavens to embark on yet another killer album for the good of man.

The Wolf Bites Back is a radical album that’s as good as it is loud; thunderous riffs gallop in to trample over all that is false in the land. One of the eminent stoner metal bands of the last two decades, Orange Goblin have remained relevant by refusing to slow down (as if that isn’t an oxymoron in this genre, but whatever -- you get it). The beast set forth through your speakers by Orange Goblin’s magic is unabashedly simple and to the point, and to paraphrase the chorus of “Renegade”, this music is true grit for rock & roll outlaws. This is the real shit that will hopefully make the ghosts of heavy metal’s elders proud, as The Wolf Bites Back forbids itself from any pretentious aesthetics of artsy contemporaries, and reminisces on the good old days of born to be wild heavy metal thunder.

Orange Goblin kick things off with the solid song to get you pumped up with witchery and sonic brew on the high octane sing along “Sons of Salem,” an ode to end times degeneracy rising up in the name of old school New England sorcery. You’re going to get a lot of fantasy and medieval themes here, such as on “Swords of Fire”, but it’s grounded by the raw guitar playing and bludgeoning bass. I don’t care who you are, if you put blues and heavy metal together with castles and knights, that’s a recipe for cool shit. However, let’s not fool ourselves into thinking that Orange Goblin are riding on a lyrical one trip pony. One of my favorite tracks is “Ghosts of The Primitive,” seemingly an ominous reflection of technocratic society and nihilistic corporate hegemony setting atrophy to the senses through institutionalized ignorance. The pointed lyrics of Ben Ward revolve around spacey 70s rock foundations, psychedelic fuzz, and raw groove.“The Stranger” is a rhythmic rocker with sweet serenades and blistering tones breathing life into the final half of the album. At the conclusion, OG leaves us with sinister and opaque revelations manifested in the smooth current of “Zeitgeist,” a song that sneaks along until the fiery solos sends The Wolf Bites Back atop its final plateaus.

If you’re a devoted Orange Goblin fan, then you probably already know by now that this album is a rager, but if you haven’t heard it yet then keep your expectations high. Going on over two decades, you would  think not to underestimate the probability for sacred riffs, as Orange Goblin will surely prove to you that they are more than capable of delivering for the ninth time with this badass album.

The Wolf Bites Back gets a fuck yeah on the yeah scale.

Suum - Buried Into The Grave

If an album can rip the house down with its first two minutes, then you know you’re in for a ride, and that’s exactly what Suum does on its first track “Tower Of Oblivion”. The Candlemass inspired riffs and melancholy vocal style of Mark Wolf conjure up soul sucking forces that are just too damn good to turn off. Right when you need to hear it, guitarist Painkiller sends out a maelstrom guitar solo to divide the song’s crushing first half with its ominous conclusion. In the final seconds of “Tower of Oblivion”, vocalist chants in a ghastly whisper that left me cringing -- in the best way possible.

Halfway through Buried Into The Grave’s opening salvo, you may find yourself going backward in time to an age when the doom metal scene was harvesting the ripe crops of a metal scene in need of something new. Epicus Doomicus Metallicus was released at the peak of thrash metal domination and did everything opposite from what that community was into at the time. Candlemass’s first album perfected the boundaries and culture of a gloomy overlooked sub genre that few others dared to experiment with, and to this day most of the best doom records embody the work Leif Edling’s Swedish ensemble left in place. Moody blues rock inspired by the jams of Black Sabbath forged with leviathan punk chords that stalled until death set in became a common practice in the doom metal scene, but somewhere along the line that formula became muddled with a thousand different possibilities and for better or worse the genre evolved. Suum does not muddle the formula or attempt to present an aesthetic that is anything but traditional.

By track two, one should expect that the quality of Suum is going to continue. “Black Mist” is a hypnotizing incarnation of pure doom that follows a righteous format of the genre without succumbing to bogus stereotypes. Lurking in the shadows of the Mediterranean and all its mystique, Suum have risen from the grave of the world’s greatest ancient empire to unleash one of the best debut albums in the scene on an independent label or any label for that matter.

Exciting grooves frequently bring a freshness to the otherwise apocalyptic melodrama of the album. Its titular track is a great example of this. Doom metal is at its best when the music is as invigorating as it is brooding. Empowering chords compliment primitive war drums and a cascade of enthralling vocals.

A doom metal dirge is only as good as the headbanging forewarning that precede it, and I think that Suum did a really good job of capturing both of the necessary elements that make great doom metal songs.

You can tell that the Italian unit is on top of a really pure chemistry of doom metal, and they’re not willing to muck it up, but they don’t disappoint by failing to meet the standards of the forebearers like Solitude Aeturnus, Candlemass, or Reverend Bizarre, either. “Seeds of Decay” comes up from a fog in the swamp and clutches you with grooves that ooze all over the track’s 5:44 minute duration. The temptation of death and all of its fascinating entropy is superbly captured.

Like the religious iconography emblazoned on much of Suum’s media, the music of Buried Into The Grave dispels forced modernity with monolithic and antiquated mystical fury. Marco states Suum is not influenced by Christianity, but with so many doom metal bands throughout the ages using the mystical symbolism toward their own ends it just looks right in place on the band's artwork.

Suum proves that truly no greater limits need to be reached with doom metal, and that when done correctly throwbacks can still achieve quality without contriving rehashed styles. The album may be called Buried Into The Grave, but now raised from the dead, Suum is as they style themselves, doom for the doomed.