Let’s face it, Saor knows why we’re here: because they’re ‘that Scottish black metal band that play the bagpipes.’ So, let’s pour a glass of fine scotch, think of the Highlands and let the Northern winds tickle our balls through our tartan kilts for their latest album Amidst the Ruins. For some context, the black metal community seems almost overwhelmed with cheap early 90s fodder, where bands believe that to achieve their ‘sound,’ they must record their castrated shrieks through a McDonald’s Happy Meal Toy from 2002. Whereas Saor’s blackened sound is as defiant as it is crisp and clear; like the crystalline waters of Loch Lomond, it’s an entirely refreshing and welcome take. Gone are the days when black metal needed to punish you with constant and unrelenting blast beats for daring to enjoy its music, made only for the self-imagined “strong”. The problem that has historically plagued the genre is that it deifies sounding terrible.
Amidst the Ruin’s title track reassures us that it’s okay to enjoy black metal that has some serious production quality. It’s still unquestionably black metal, but Saor gives us time for quiet reflection with gentle bagpipes and flutes as an oasis of peace amongst its harsh blackened choruses, amplifying both. Its 12-minute runtime flows by as smooth as a gentle river and does well to set the scene for the rest of the album. And so, we are next confronted by ‘Echoes of Ancient Land’. Here, Saor is telling us: don’t get too comfortable. We are first met by aggressive vocals which surprisingly, are somewhat intelligible, they must not have gotten the genre-wide memo. It appears Saor are getting very comfortable with the folk aspects of their sound. The bagpipes progress into Iron Maiden-style guitar galloping very fluidly. A departure, but one where the ride is quite enjoyable – though it’s also not as blackened as black metal usually is.
This is a bit of a different one, looking back all the way to April 20th 1999 to the release of the brand-new EP by Final Resting Place. No, not really. The new EP is out on the 7th of February 2025, but any band bold enough to fake the release date and follow that up with the disgusting mass that is Bound By Affliction, all whilst paying homage to the aesthetic of a release from that time, is a band worth checking out.
The EP is a heady mix of baked bean can snare (complimentary) and disgusting guttural vocals that would have any brutal death metal band worth their salt blushing, and guitars/production that is so filthy even their own mother wouldn’t touch them. That’s all part of the aesthetic, though, and you can’t help but get carried away with it. Final Resting Place take you on a slap-happy tour through thirteen or so minutes of mosh inciting, spin kicking death metal with a healthy helping of hardcore influence.
Aki McCullough has never been one to be held down by what the masses might consider acceptable or accessible. With an impressive resume which includes progressive sludge band A Constant Knowledge Of Death and modern skramz trailblazers Dreamwell, McCullough has reimagined herself under the moniker ameokama. Ready to unleash her unhinged combination of slowcore, noise, shoegaze and ambient on the world with her debut album i will be clouds in the morning and rain in the evening.
Take this as a warning, i will be clouds in the morning and rain in the evening is not for the faint of heart. From the very beginning of the album’s opening track ‘My Fears Have Become Fetishes’ the listener is beaten with a barrage of clashing guitars, fuzzed-out bass stabs and overlapping vocals in a disorienting maelstrom of noise. Genres are gathered and carelessly discarded with elements of industrial, hardcore, hyper-pop and cybergrind making appearances throughout the track only to be absorbed into the whirlwind of chaotic noise.
Except for the drums and a handful of instrumental parts, McCullough handles all the instrumentation and production herself, injecting the album with a unique and consistent voice despite all the lawless genre-mixing. Whether through the techno inspired industrial of ‘Phantom Cock’ the minimalist, experimental folk of ‘Ravensong’, the feedback-fuelled ambience of ‘Cluster B’ or the blackgaze meets pop-rock of ‘I Am Driving A Car With A Cute Girl And Pretending That The World Isn’t Ending’, each track sounds entirely like ameokama. Each track offers a new surprise and never feels disconnected or messy, instead coming together like a brilliantly mismatched collage.
Something of an off-shoot from Bristol’s finest synth-speckled nonsense rock rabble rousers Benzo Queen, BENZO AND THE QUEENS (all caps) came into being for a single performance at Bristol’s legendary Dean Lean Hardcore Funday a few years back. And like any good sudden rash or new haemorrhoid, it appears this iteration of the band is here to stay for a bit, something they’re proving with this new EP.
So what, you may ask, is the difference between Benzo Queen and BENZO AND THE QUEENS though? Whilst it would be oh so easy to say this iteration of the band is the evil twin of Benzo Queen, to do so would not just be clichéd, but a bit false too. BENZO AND THE QUEENS, more fittingly, is the sibling that came out a bit wrong. It’s the sibling that needs to be chained up in the loft, the one that needs to be fed fish heads, the one that’s too crazy for boys town, too much of a boy for crazy town.
Even by Benzo Queen’s unconventional standards, this EP is bonkers, something that’s immediately proven by ‘This Could’ve Been An Email’. Rollicking and raving in the band’s established synth ravaged noise punk madness albeit with a sense of spitting haste that almost comes across as madness, this sounds like Benzo Queen’s carbonated output but with added kick. If Benzo Queen is a shaken-up bottle of coke, BENZO AND THE QUEENS is that same bottle of coke expect it’s been lobbed in a washing machine alongside a brick. ‘James Blonde’ encapsulates this, it’s one-and-a-bit minute nonsensical ravings and thrashings tastefully chaptered nicely with what can only be described as that sleek James Bond chord your dad is familiar with.
Many bands make it difficult, or impossible, to pinpoint their exact sound or genre. Henge, fall into this category, sitting in a realm of their own. Their theatrical and energetic sound is as multidimensional as space as they collide space-rock, prog and electronic elements. Though deepening their eccentricity with each release they put out, one thing that never changes is their intense ‘comet-ment’ to the bit. Their latest offering of cosmic dross, Journey to Voltus B is no different. Blasting us off on a voyage to a faraway planet, each track whimsically details each stage of the adventure, fuelled by euphoric synths and vibrant rhythms.
Having captured fans’ attention with a flurry of impressive singles, these songs further established lead vocalist Janine Shilstone’s progress in obtaining a true self-actualised version of herself, and Hamish Reilly provided the perfect instrumental accompaniment to this refreshing take on pop rock. ‘SNO’ dives deep into the soul pleading for forgiveness, all the while issuing a reminder that we are deserving of love. The title track threw caution to the wind as it gave negative thought cycles the finger, daring to exhibit themselves as depressive episodes. It’s also a PSA for taking mental health struggles seriously, while ‘GUNGHO’ & ‘MISTY ECSTASY’ are a daring reclamation of sexuality and innermost sought after desires, the true pinnacle of MY GOD HAS GOT A GUN’s success lies within the unrelenting bounds of its final track ‘BLADED’.
Acting as an expectational rebuke of sorts, ‘BLADED’ is an apocalyptic electropunk tinged heavy 90s weave through purposeful yet truly rousing overstimulation. Although mountainous and voidish in its persona, the mind’s eye conjured images of Justine in the role of a mechanical deity, an image of strength and wonder especially when we cast our minds back to what came before the rise of MY GOD HAS GOT A GUN’s deliciously provocative era.
