Reviews
Anger is definitely gift on the 27th album from Bay Area crossover outfit Osees
Hi, what are you looking for?
Anger is definitely gift on the 27th album from Bay Area crossover outfit Osees
"Pharmacist's newest is a fun, brutal slice of death metal/grindcore served with an old school Carcass attitude."
Like a lot of bands, Caustic Wound isn’t playing to reinvent the wheel of death or grind, they’re just playing it the way it...
What do you expect from a band called Dirt Woman? Probably not this. Five songs, three of them thirteen-plus minutes, and a colossal sound...
Lee Buford of The Body, Kristin Hayter of Lingua Ignota, and Dylan Walker of Full of Hell are no strangers to working with one...
Blood Incantation has outdone themselves in every regard. Sit back, strap in and be crushed by the vacuum of space.
Tomb Mold has carried on their heinous sounds with barred teeth. Planetary Clairvoyance continues the band’s brand of death metal drenched in dread-laden doom.
Endon is a quintet that is no stranger to creating claustrophobic soul violence seen through the cracked lens of a kaleidoscope.
Within A World Forgotten is a dizzy, dark spell of violence conjured from the depths.
Crawl is death metal for people that don’t want frilly bullshit.
It’s the kind of thing you gotta sit down and listen to and let pummel you.
Boris has no real rule book to abide by expect remaining heavy, I suppose.
Obsidian Ark feels like it’s working on building a new sound, but starting with the familiar.
Stalking the Ghost is not the end-all or grand evolution of the doom/sludge genre, but it is a good incantation.
Two Fistula records in one year? I’d say you’re too kind, 2016, but we all know that’s bullshit. But I’ll take any miniscule amount...
It’s been almost sixteen years to the month since Brujeria has delivered product to the masses. That’s awhile for cartel boys to be out...
By the time it’s over, you might be able to feel the scraping of bare branches on your skin.
Get lost. Let yourself float. Asphyxiate. We all drift out here.
Something that Joe D’Amato and Lucio Fulci would be proud of.
What the fuck do Weekend Nachos owe this world? Nothing but misery and pain. And certainly no apologies for those sentiments.
Straight to the point, no bullshit, no frills, no filler, nothing but solid brass knuckles track by track.
