Metal album reviews
In this issue
Avichi, Catharsis Absolute
Avichi has always had the feel of a one-man black metal project. But on previous albums\ The Divine Tragedy and The Devil’s Fractal, mastermind (and former Nachtmystium guitarist) Andrew Markuszewski employed a drummer a crutch he’s done away with on the new Catharsis Absolute. Having taught himself his way around the kit is just one expression of Markuszewski’s perfectionism; the album, originally due in the summer of 2013, was held up by an 11th-hour remix, one that pushed the release back by months. The wait—and the obsessive fussiness—was worth it. Catharsis Absolute comes complete with an atmosphere and cohesion that hangs like the swiftly congealing mist over 100,000 bloodlettings. If it isn’t excruciating, after all, it isn’t cathartic. Where The Devil’s Fractal trafficked in surgical precision, Catharsis Absolute is more of a gory smear. Markuszewski doesn’t fit the reclusive bedroom-metal stereotype, which gives the aggressive introspection of Catharsis Absolute that much more sick mystique. —Jason Heller
Chrome Division, Infernal Rock Eternal
As with previous Chrome Division releases, badass hard rock heaviness takes center stage, but Infernal sees ’80s butt-metal playing the supporting role with alarming vigor. Between the Maiden and Motörhead moments, there’s plenty of room for fishnets and lipstick. Guitar solos wind higher and wilder than the hairdos on the dudes in Britny Fox, and lyrics are ripped from the Poison playbook. “Late at night, when I think of you, I get a chill inside, and it feels so good!” growls singer Shady Blue. How to top that? Cue the chorus! “Ohhhh yeaahhh, she’s so hot tonight! Oohhhhhoohhhh!” That’s nothing compared to the talkbox effect that opens “Endless Nights”—flashbacks to “Livin’ on a Prayer” are unavoidable. The strangest moment is the subdued instrumental “Good Morning Riot,” which plucks similar strings as Metallica’s “Nothing Else Matters,” but grows into something suited for Linda Ronstadt’s vocals. In a weird way, Infernal works, if only to remind us how a little cheese can really wake things up. —Jeanne Fury
Iced Earth, Plagues of Babylon
Iced Earth fan, rejoice! The thrashy Floridian NWOBHM-loving collective has returned to the scene with over an hour of earnest adolescent machismo, perfect for epic confrontations between junior varsity soccer teams, or for ascending all 14 unforgiving steps unto thy bedroom, or maybe unto thy sister’s while she’s out, because for some inexplicable reason, mom and dad got that TaySwift-worshipping moron a bettersounding stereo. Whatever. Iced Earth totally freaking rule, and closed doors (and possibly headphones, so dad doesn’t yell) won’t keep you from unleashing the Plagues of Babylon on their asses. Sorry. Not fair. I know. But Jesus—11 albums into their career, Iced Earth seem to have written Plagues as a SparkNotes guide to dark lyrical motifs: zombies in “Among the Living Dead,” ye olde gods of the deep in “Cthulhu,” standing strong in “Resistance,” rampant disease released by calculating overlords on the title track—the list goes on and on and fucking on. Someone will like this. Just not me. —Daniel Lake
Warfather, Orchestrating the Apocalypse
I take it back: Some cool unused band names still exist. Warfather is fucking cool. The idea that violent armed conflict might be supported by a nurturing, pride-filled parent? Genius. Add the evocative cover image of a weather-aged human face descending on a splintering globe, and expectations are huge for the music behind all this fantastic imagery. Thankfully, Steve Tucker (ex-Morbid Angel, Nader Sadek) and company hold up their end admirably. Orchestrating the Apocalypse tells its tale with raptor-clawed, bat-winged, serpentheaded death metal. Warfather’s debut expends precisely zero effort ingratiating itself to either the modern tech crowd or the old-school mob. Tucker, the creative pilot through the Warfather universe, has composed a personalized version of familiar death metal, in which blast beats and vertiginous riffing form thorny, ossified cages around solos that gleam with an alien aurora-light. The album won’t challenge your perception of death metal, but every song sets the pulse racing with fresh excitement and idiosyncratic details. —Daniel Lake