Death metal. Death fucking metal. One of the most primal, neanderthal genres of music ever put to tape. And yet, one that seems to have been co-opted by some to be a stuffy, regimented genre. Recent comments about how bands look and dress just add fuel to the fire that it’s a genre to be gatekept. It isn’t. At its core, it’s about letting loose and having fun while at the same time, making some of the most extreme music imaginable. Thankfully, a lot of the newer bands coming through know this and with that in mind, let’s talk about Undeath.
A band that have become the go-to for death metal in the modern age, they undoubtedly have a very throwback, 80s Florida-inspired sound (think Morbid Angel with some Obituary stomp), with some modern production flourishes and a healthy dose of the devil’s lettuce thrown in. Their last record It’s Time…To Rise From The Grave was universally praised, even receiving rave reviews from everybody’s favourite bald music critic Anthony Fantano. The band’s songwriting was ahead of most of their peers and in the track ‘Rise From The Grave’ they created a modern extreme metal anthem.
And so began the hype, the putting of the band on a pedestal as the saviour of death metal. Many tours cemented the band as a force to be reckoned with live and during the incubation for this album, fans were silently hopeful that things could go to yet another level for the band, despite only being six years old. Thankfully, Undeath have not only upped the ante but have created possibly the best straight up death metal record of the decade in More Insane.
Having released a few singles since 2023, Swansea based Alt-noise group Baby Schillaci have finally come out with an album, perfectly dubbed The Soundtrack. The soundtrack to what exactly? Well, a fictional B-movie that highlights the anxieties of a broken society. The way that Baby Schillaci conveys this message is through their warped musicianship.
Born during the 2020 pandemic dual vocalist and guitarists Tom Richards & Richie Lewis sought out to be an unconventional band and to stand out within the rock scene. With The Soundtrack they’ve done exactly what they’ve aimed for, clashing genres from punk and noise all the way to hip hop and D&B. After the introduction of ‘## TITLE SEQUENCE ##’ we’re then greeted to the carnage that’s about to unfold by the name of ‘ULTRA HD HAPPY FACE’. Put simply, from front to back the entire album is a bludgeoning wall of sound that pulls no punches.
The production on the album further enhances the already blaring guitars of Richards & Lewis, added with their layered vocals and Lewis’ Swansea accent taking charge of a few tracks both spoken word and carrying his sweet lullaby voice. Drummer Tom Williams’ furious drumming keeps the pace of the band in check and is simplistic and complex in equal measure from his 4/4 beats to his bizarre drum fills. Bassist Andrew Evans comes through thick and meaty with his tone that rattles your brain in its caged prison.
Since bursting onto the scene in 2016, Dublin’s infamous two-piece and all round lovely guys Bicurious have made waves. Bringing their passionate mix of math-injected riffs and moody post-rock, they’ve been on a constant upward trajectory. Their exciting 2021 debut, (re)constructed, earned them spots at ArcTanGent and Portals festivals as well as growing their reputation in Europe.Made possible by 18 months in five studios across three different countries, and €9000 raised through crowdfunding, it’s safe to say their latest offering wasn’t a straightforward creation. However, the underpinning theme of the importance of family, which includes their fans, served to drive this release forwards.
Compared to earlier work, despite the harrowing title, Your Life Is Over Now… feels lighter. It’s also their first with ‘proper’ vocals, which is merged into the band’s sound seamlessly. ‘Coming Around‘ kicks off their elevated sound with an injection of punky vocals and early 2000’s hooks. The band make it known that family comes first and even though the opener is pretty uplifting, it gets heavier towards the end – a familiar structure for Bicurious.
Without losing the album’s thematics, the latter half feels beefier. ‘Blind’ takes on a lower tone, featuring an onslaught of drums and showcasing Plouzine’s vocal range. Akin to their signature style, the track refuses to sit still with frenzied structures and choppy riffs, leaving you unsure what to expect next. Closing the album, ‘Crumbled’ starts sombre, building with gentle tings of the symbol and emotive lyrics, but, you can feel something brewing. The closer builds gradually before erupting with goosebump-inducing power, proving that the two-piece are more than the sum of their parts. As with (Re)constructed, the band have invited the listener to connect with them again. However, this time the underpinnings aren’t so emotionally hefty, instead focusing on how family can bring us together.
The new full-length record from the Bristolian band, The Grand Scheme Of Things comes a bit of a tricky time for the band. However, to phrase popular parlance, this isn’t because it’s their ‘difficult second record’ or anything like that. Rather, it’s because the album comes at a time where they’re suddenly victims of their own success. Whilst it may be a brash and wholly incorrect to label them as intentional contrarians, the gloomy Bristolians essentially contrast with what popular music practice should be. In an age where music has become nothing more than quick disposable dopamine hits disposed via algorithms, the band’s meandering long-form meditations on shoegaze, doom and the awaiting void counteract such a notion.
It’s this inherent contrast that have long made the band brilliant, with their fluid dynamism allowing the band to inhabit spaces of beauty and disgust simultaneously. But this sense of unpredictability and juxtaposition have come at something of a price; we all now know what to expect from the band. When Sugar Horse announced that their last EP Truth Or Consequences, New Mexico would be a 17 minute singular piece of music, something of the sorts was expected. So how do Sugar Horse continue to contrast against popular exception now we’ve all come to know their deal? By releasing their most accessible record to date of course.
A much more concise and compact record, The Grand Scheme Of Things is a sudden side-step from a band that move glacially. The obtuse, meditative track lengths have been cut down dramatically, the meanderings through genres exercised as quick and rapid strikes. Of course, this might be a concern for some; this is a band renowned for their ability to glide through periods of ethereal shoegaze ambience, plunge into pits of fiery post-metal and flutter though ashen doom all in the same song. However, this is still the same Sugar Horse. The band have lost none of their finesse and genre dynamism through this transformation. In fact, by retaining their ability fly across genres through such shorter song structures without hindering their inherent grace, The Grand Scheme Of Things sees the band in their most dexterous form to date.
London-based pair Rich Mandell (guitar/vocals) and Phoebe Cross (drums/vocals), aka Happy Accidents, have always been a creative entity bound by integrity and authenticity. Their methodology has also long embodied and proved this. Belonging to the rich ecosystem that’s home to acts such as Fresh, Supermilk, Cheerbleederz, Me Rex, Martha and others of their ilk, the duo’s work has always embodied the nature of staying true to oneself whilst shunning whatever cheap gimmick is plaguing the indie punk scene at the time. And if anything, the musical transformation across their discography thus far has always mirrored the band’s evolution as creatives and people with relatable clarity. From the teenage rebellion of their 2016 debut to the more measured genre defiance of 2022’s cgwarmth, each record has been both a snapshot of life presented via tailored indie-punk soundscapes. Edit Undo continues this trend in a way that’s wholly enjoyable.
The pleasant introduction to this record that is the trio of tracks ‘Infinite Possibilities’, ‘Blink’ and ‘Dog Day’ encapsulates not just the tone and presentation of Edit Undo, but also brilliantly presents how the album is once again a product of the band’s adherence to authentic integrity. A continuation of the more morose and brilliantly breezy indie punk that was presented in the band’s last record and 2020’s Sprawling, these tracks harken towards a more matured and well-rounded sound that still resonates the drive that has propelled the band from their offset. Yet it also brilliantly displays the band’s ablity to truthfully articulate the quiet and lonesome stagnation many of us feel come the arrival of true adulthood. Like the conundrums of every day living post optimistic youth, these tracks are subtle, supple and require a level of consideration and focus to be truly enjoyed.
The second full length from the post-screamo outfit As Living Arrows (FKA Dead Bird), Hope and Ruin is a body of work that wears its meaning in its title. Or rather, it would do so fully if it’s title was reversed. A record that draws upon reflections of departed loved ones, spiralling mental health and the ever-perpetual struggle to get to the end of each wretched day, this album portrays itself as a mirror to how one can only find hope for a better day after purging and destroying everything that stops one from from finding optimism.
Granted, yes, this ethos has long been crux of everything screamo and post-hardcore adjacent since the genre’s very origin. But what separates this from its peers is the combination of urgency and how it ties together a plethora of inspirations. With subtle nods to a range of artists like Russian Circles, Deafheaven and The Jesus Lizard, Hope and Ruin is a screamo record that assures its brilliance by looking beyond the genre’s parameters.
Opener ‘As Above So Below’ immediately grips one’s attention with all the delicate grace of a clenched hand to the throat. Kicking into being with the vocal-chord tearing screams of vocalist Thomas Wagstaff, the track is a barreling barrage of a need for catharsis via destruction. It may sound hyperbolic, but as the band grapple with the subject of regret in the wake of death, you can almost feel the spittle from Wagstaff lancing one’s face point-blank, the rush of disturbed air as their peers battle with pliable riffs and the thrall of emotional damage as the refrain of ‘You can look back / But please don’t stare’ is repeated like both a mantra and a painful reminder.
