The British extreme metal scene is in rude health at the moment. Whether that’s the powerful political black metal of Dawn Ray’d or the ever growing popularity of the mathcore wizards Rolo Tomassi , it’s becoming harder and harder for bands to stand out as being head and shoulders above the top tier of acts, and one could argue that very few of the more death metal leaning bands haven’t produced a truly top tier record for years. Until, now that is. With It All Returns To Nothing, the London based Burner have released the best straight ahead (Relatively) UK extreme metal record since Black Breath dropped Sentenced To Life, and one of the best British metal debuts of the last twenty years. Seriously.
Their 2022 EP, A Vision of The End was a concentrated blast of gloomy, brutal death metal infused hardcore that blew the socks off everyone lucky enough to listen to it. It was raw and ramshackle but reeked of talent and promise. The influences of bands like Trap Them, Lamb of God (The first two records and a smattering of Burn The Priest) and the aforementioned Black Breath, alongside a myriad of groups from across the extreme metal spectrum shine through, in a way of worship and homage rather than being simply derivative, though at times it can be a bit of a “Hey that sounds like X” band. This is one of a very small batch of negatives though, as rather than be simple hero worship, the band take their inspirations and run with them, blending and coalescing into their own style.
Following on from three EPs, Norwegian post-rock outfit Grant The Sun have finally delivered their debut full-length LP, Voyage, releasing on Mas-Kina Records. Representing the band at their most fully-realised, Voyage brings together both ideas and lessons learned from their previous releases, and new stylistic choices that they have never attempted before such as the incorporating vocals. The final product ends up not only being Grant The Sun’s most ambitious and engaging release to date, but a deeply accessible post-rock album for those new to the genre.
Across the 39 minutes of Voyage, Grant The Sun weave their way around ideas from progressive rock, metal, and post-rock with ease. This leads to a collection of tracks that present as a journey into a watery abyss, cleverly using genre meshing and stylistic changes as narrative devices, culminating in a cohesive album that maintains momentum and excitement. From the dreamy soundscapes of ‘Blue Desert’, a track that plunges into heavy, chugging riffs and complex, weaving rhythmic patterns, to the rapturous close of the confidently titled closer ‘Grant The Sun’, Voyage remains incredibly engaging.
Vocals are used sparingly across this body of work, with tracks intermittently being punctuated by the distant echoes of Markus Lillehaug Johnsen and the raw screams of Martin Rygge. This leads to the tracks often feeling like they use vocals more so as another instrument in an instrumental ensemble, such as on ‘Machina’. A gritty, distorted guitar line chugs away under reverb soaked chords and hazy vocalisations, before stripping back for choruses marked by Rygge’s sharp unclean vocals.
Taking their name after a 1953 film staring starring Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr, the London based trio of Rakel Mjöll (lead vocals), Alice Go (guitar, vocals), and Bella Podpadec (bass, vocals) that make up Dream Wife are masters of combining the political with the playful. Their music is influenced by punk, pop and indie, while it lyrically addresses issues related to feminism, gender roles, body image and sexual objectification. The trio’s highly anticipated third album Social Lubrication is the rockiest, punchiest and rowdiest yet.
With a strong feelings of lust at the core of the album yet a brutal honesty surrounding their dislike for the patriarchy and its outdated systems and underhand codes of silence, Dream Wife want to cut the nonsense and get us all to show some empathy while dancing to punky, groove laden bangers. The wonderful thing about Social Lubrication is how eclectic it is, ranging from all out punk to floor filling disco bass lines and most importantly it has a positive message that you will have no problem getting behind whole heartedly.
While the overarching subject matter is socially conscious and highly observant, which enables Dream Wife to masterfully satire the patriarchy in accessible way whilst simultaneously making you feel more empowered and liberated. In many ways its a call-to-arms for empathy and understanding, an open, honest and nuanced look into the wonderful complexities of life and how we need to make a positive change to shed our shackles of outdated systems. Ultimately, it is fuzzy, dirty riffs brimming with electricity that have been explicitly made for dancing together in shared places.
There’s a scene in Roman Polanski’s version of Macbeth where in the midst of battle you see one of the soldiers cave their enemy’s head in with a morning star. The shot is visceral in it’s display of overt gore, and so too is Torture Rack’s latest offering Primeval Onslaught. Bludgeoned bones, crushed helmets and rent amour are strewn across 25 minutes of pounding old school Death Metal. It’s bloody, it’s glorious, it’s harrowing, and more than anything it makes you bang your head so much even Corpsegrinder would feel it the next day.
This is Torture Rack’s third album, following on from the success of Malefic Humiliation. The band, consisting of members of Witch Vomit, Triumvir Foul and Cemetary Lust, brings their specific brand of unhinged gore soaked debauchery. This is death metal where the purpose is simple, to smash skulls, take no prisoners and bathe in the glory of your foes defeated corpse. If you like your death metal particularly bloody, and filled with Cannibal Corpse and Bolt Thrower riffs then this will be right up your street.
‘Ceremonial Flesh Feast’ opens the proceedings by unleashing hell on your ears, a half time Cannibal Corpse esque riff complete with cymbal bell strikes which speedily descends into chaos courtesy of a divebombing solo capturing the chaos of cult rituals bathed in blood. A platter sized helping of old school death metal follows, swapping between grinding speed and classic stompy half tempo goodness.
The Perfume Of Decay – the band’s third full length and their first released via Loosegroove Records, the label co-founded by Pearl Jam’s Stone Gosaard – is something that can be described as a product of indulgence from the band. Recorded and written in the dead of night, the record as a whole aims to mirror life under the moonlight; a peculiar time where one’s mental psyche unfurls, the silent subconscious becomes vocal and where vices can be appeased. Of course, a band of Tigercub’s stature and sound channeling the power of the night isn’t exactly a new proposition – lord above knows just how many alt-rock bands have been inspired by the dark – but what makes this record stand out in it’s field is just how damn good it is. Void of stereotypes and thankfully baring none of the indulgence aforementioned within it’s sound, The Perfume Of Decay is Tigercub’s finest hour to date.
Beginning with the droning interlude of ‘Dirge’ prior to delving into the fuzzed-out contents of the title track and gloomy yet swaggering ‘Show Me My Maker’, the band instantly establish the thematic themes of the record with total ease. Nocturnal in aesthetic and roguish in delivery, these tracks just radiate a sense of dusk-lit slyness that’s once again in thanks to Tigercub’s musical diverseness. Much akin to their previous bodies of work – 2016’s Abstract Figures In The Dark and 2021’s As Blue As Indigo – The Perfume Of Decay is a record that bares the hallmarks of alt-rock, neo-grunge, stoner metal and more without ever committing fully to a singular genre nor style. However, what separates this from their previous outings is their delivery and how such genre motifs constructed.
If Blue As Indigo was their sun-bathed summer release, The Perfume Of Decay is Tigercub’s gothic arc. With their brooding approach, melancholic lyricism, and their vicious, booming riffs – some of the band’s most maximalist and densest to date – the tracks aforementioned and proceeding likes of ‘Swoon’ and ‘The Dark Below’ sound positively macabre when compared to the band’s previous work. In fact, whilst none of the tracks are openly hostile, there is a sense of shadowed animosity present. Even ‘Play My Favourite Song’, the album’s radio-ready hit plays witness to this dark aesthetic.
To say Pupil Slicer made an explosive entrance would be an understatement. Their 2021 debut album Mirrors seemingly came out of nowhere, the raw and deeply personal slab of chaotic mathcore that captivated the UK underground and found its way onto many outlets’ favourite releases of the year. In the years since, their relentless work ethic for playing live shows and festivals across Europe has seen the anticipation for their next album reaching a fever pitch. No one knew what to expect in terms of following up their debut, but when the band released title track and lead single ‘Blossom’, it is safe to say expectations were expertly subverted. The in your face mathcore edge had ostensibly taken a bit of a back seat to melodic hooks, clean vocals and catchy choruses. Yet still, even with the apparent sudden genre shift, all of the physical release pre-orders sold out within a week, those in the know desperate to get their hands on a copy.
Fortunately for die-hard fans of the debut, Blossom has not lost that mathcore essence whatsoever, it has merely been refined and fused with a wider array of influences, soundscapes and textures. Described by the band as a hard science fiction/cosmic horror rock opera, Blossom is very much an experience that is worth consuming in a single sitting rather than focusing on individual singles. Vocalist Kate Davies stepped back somewhat from the raw, biographical lyricism from Mirrors and instead infused personal experiences through the lens of an otherworldly narrative. With the conceptual protagonist losing touch with reality after encountering a signal of alien origin, Blossom takes listeners on a journey through another plane of existence where reality is distorted. Forced to inflict destruction upon others and question the nature of existence itself before attempting to accept reality and reach a point of serenity, the album centres around the themes of abject despair, reincarnation and hell.
