Greetings metal maniacs, and welcome to yet another jam-packed edition of Columnicus Metallicus. As much as Iโd love to waste several introductory paragraphs waffling away at you all, weโve got a lot to get through this month; after the traditional January release schedule slump, February has sharply picked up the pace.
Elsewhere on this fine and upstanding site, youโll find reviews of the excellent new Sightless Pit album, a dark and foreboding affair from Lingua Ignota and members of The Body and Full Of Hell, and the confused but fairly interesting new opus from Sepultura.
But thatโs only scratching the surface of this monthโs barrage of new metal, which includes the weird (OvO, Beehover, Faustian Pact), the wonderful (Turia, Fluisteraars, Panopticon) and the woeful (ahem, Ozzy Osbourne). So without further adoโฆ
Ozzy Osbourne – Ordinary Man
(Sony)
First of all, letโs just acknowledge how miraculous it is that a new Ozzy record even exists in the first place in 2020. With Oz cancelling tours and battling no end of health conditions of late, and with a whole decade having passed since his last release, 2010โs patchy, underwhelming Scream, the odds of Birminghamโs metal pioneer returning with another brand new full-length were starting to look slimmer by the day. But whilst itโs no doubt impressive that Ordinary Man exists, whether it should is another matter entirely, and one that the album doesnโt really make a convincing case for.
For one, this is hands down the worst sounding album Ozzy has ever been a part of. After teaming up with guitarist/producer Andrew Watt in the wake of his unlikely collaboration with Post Malone (the guy who rose to prominence co-opting hip-hop culture before inexplicably declaring the genre emotionally void and promptly pivoting to the sort of dreary, overly earnest butt rock that could have quite easily slipped in before Staind on an Ozzfest bill at the turn of the century โ so maybe itโs not that unlikely a collaboration after all, huh?), Ordinary Man has been saddled with a horrendously sterile, overly processed sound, with the guitars buried beneath a dull digital hiss and Ozzy himself struggling to keep his head above the layers of autotune.
But, sonics aside, this album could have been a lot worse under the circumstances. Singles like โStraight To Hellโ and โUnder The Graveyardโ are your generic Ozzy ear worms, and whilst theyโre not likely to change your life, they at least present the bare minimum of what youโd expect from one of his solo records. Elsewhere, songs like โGoodbyeโ and the self-consciously goofy โEat Meโ hark back to the swaggering, stadium filling sleaze that made records like No More Tears so infectious, the former even containing the closest youโll get to a moment of genuine spontaneity on a record this heavily focus-grouped into existence as Oz cackles, โIs it time for tea?โ
Ok, maybe thatโs not entirely fair โ itโs good to hear Ozzy sounding like heโs actually having fun making a record for the first time in years, and he does sound like heโs having a ball throughout, especially on the bizarre โScary Little Green Menโ, a cautionary tale, apparently, about being eaten by aliens. Whilst itโs heartening to have some of Ozzyโs eccentricities shine through on a record this overproduced, itโs still one of the worst songs heโs officially released โ or at least, it would be if it werenโt competing for that title with some of the other absolute howlers on here. The Elton John featuring title track continues the age old Ozzy tradition of having at least one completely useless, saccharine ballad on every album, whilst โToday Is The Endโ aims for Black Sabbathโs ominous gloom but falls hilariously short with one of the flattest choruses in Ozzyโs oeuvre. Worse still, closer โItโs A Raidโ finds Ozzy enlisting Post Malone once again for a romp through some grotesque, sugar high pop punk that would have been deemed too tacky for even the Sonic Adventure soundtrack, and is every bit as bad as it sounds.
On the whole, Ordinary Man isnโt entirely without redeeming features, and thereโs just about enough here to entertain lifelong fans. At the same time though, it is easily Ozzyโs worst record to date, and once the novelty factor wears off, there is absolutely no reason to pull this one off the shelf over Diary Of A Madman, No More Tears or, well, any of his other albums.
Raspberry Bulbs – Before The Age Of Mirrors
(Relapse)
New Yorkโs Raspberry Bulbs return after a lengthy absence this month too, on the unlikely new home of Relapse Records. Originating as a solo project from Bone Awl drummer He Who Crushes Teeth (AKA Marco del Rio), Raspberry Bulbs has gradually morphed into a fully-fledged band, moving away from their raw black metal beginnings and evolving into more of a punky, garage rock band, albeit with a suitably blackened lo-fi aesthetic. This stuff still sounds cold, harsh and bleak, but songs like the trashy, swaggering โMidnight Laneโ have more in common with Dick Dale than Darkthrone.
Before The Age Of Mirrors very much follows in the same footsteps as its predecessor Privacy, even sticking to a similar structure with numerous eerie, ritualistic interludes breaking up the bandโs raucous dirt punk and helping to build a genuinely unsettling and surreal atmosphere. Bouncy, oompah-laden tracks like โMissing Teethโ and โUltra Viresโ feel like classic Bulbs bangers, but thereโs enough variation and fresh ideas here to prevent this feeling like a simple retread. Tracks like โDoggerelโ, for example, plough into more mid-paced grooves with chilling effectiveness, whilst gristly closer โGiven Over To Historyโ dishes out some of the most straight-up black metal riffing on the record, but rather than pairing it with blizzard like blasts, a sinister, steady stomp lends the track a far more desolate, skeletal feel. Before The Age Of Mirrors may not be Raspberry Bulbsโ most immediate or ferocious album, but itโs a great introduction to their idiosyncratic style for the uninitiated, and feels creepy and menacing enough to satiate anyone who wore out their copy of Privacy years ago too. Itโs good to have them back.
Turia – Degen Van Licht
(Eisenwald)
If itโs more traditional black metal youโre looking for however, then fear not as weโre spoilt for choice this month. First up, weโve got two fantastic records from the Netherlandsโ fascinating contemporary black metal scene, with Nijmegen based trio Turia finally delivering their long-awaited third album after tiding us over with a series of splits. Degen Van Licht could be the most complete and well-realised example of the three-pieceโs raw, minimal style to date, utilising just drums, vocals and guitar to create glacial swathes of chilling atmospheric black metal. Despite the stripped back approach, this album features a far more robust production than a lot of raw black metal, possessing a warmth and clarity that somehow doesnโt feel at odds with the frosty and unforgiving riffery on offer here. Despite (or perhaps because of) their modest sound palette, the band manage to keep things interesting throughout whilst retaining a hypnotic bloody mindedness that sucks you in deeper and deeper as the album progresses.
Itโs easy to lose yourself in the dream-like, Velvet Cacoon-eque mist of songs like โMet Sterven Beboetโ or the harsh, sparse stomp of the title track. โStormโ meanwhile, is straight out of the Transylvanian Hunger school of minimalism, allowing winding melodies to evolve very subtly atop infinite blastbeats, whilst twelve minute closer โOssifrageโ experiments with a more elaborate, dynamic song structure without losing any of that primal, hypnotic pull. Itโs hardly reinventing the wheel, but thereโs a genuine emotional resonance and otherworldly beauty to Degen Van Licht that elevates it above a lot of its peers. Perfect February listening, donโt miss out on this.
Fluisteraars – Bloem
(Eisenwald)
Fellow countrymen and split partners (if you missed out on Turia and these guysโ De Oord release in 2018, youโll want to check that out immediately) Fluisteraars are back this month too with their third album, the pastoral, lilting and oddly beautiful Bloem. The bandโs sound is similar to Turiaโs in many ways, but has more of an experimental edge and, despite only being a two-piece, a fuller and more intricately textured approach. Opener โTere Murโ presents five no-nonsense minutes of melancholy, hypnotic black metal and kicks the record off in a solid if unsurprising fashion, but things get a lot more weirder from here on in.
โNasleepโ is absolutely blistering, whilst adding a strange, glitchy, cut up affect to the vocals, panning them left and right erratically and slicing them apart until they sound more like a malfunctioning android than an actual human being. Thereโs something very Boredoms about it, and it works fantastically without sounding too ham-fisted or weird for the sake of being weird. โEeuwige Ramโ and โVlekโ delve even further into morose, forlorn territory, adding a bit of a post-rock flavour without leaning too heavily on the old โquietLOUDquietLOUDโ formula, before โMaaruineโ ends the album on a curiously upbeat note, with stirring tremolo licks, distant yet robust chants, neo-folk strumming and even a wistful trumpet all coalescing to create a really immersive and evocative piece of music pitched somewhere between Agallochโs The Mantle and Miles Davisโ Sketches Of Spain.Bloem is an inventive, unique and organic slice of atmospheric black metal that comes recommended even to those who donโt usually dabble in this genre.
Panopticon / Aerial Ruin – Split
(Bindrune)
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Panopticon / Nechochwen – Split
(Bindrune)
Speaking of great black metal splits, Kentuckyโs ever prolific one-man black metal outfit Panopticon (AKA Austin Lunn) has graced us with not one, but two new splits this month, each focussing on a different aspect of the projectโs unique personality. The first finds Lunn delving deeper into his love of bluegrass, alongside Erik Moggridgeโs Aerial Ruin. Keen-eared doom fans will recognise Moggridgeโs haunting, ethereal voice from his guest appearances on all of Bell Witchโs full-length albums so far, and whilst his solo acoustic output might not be as sonically crushing, itโs just as captivating, heartfelt and powerful. The wistful, nostalgic feel of songs like โSanguine Of Ailโ and โThe Sea Is Now Steam In Mist Of A Screamโ are eerily similar to early Red House Painters, whilst more upbeat (relatively speaking, of course) numbers like โLesser The Bladeโ are a great showcase for both Moggridgeโs range and song-writing chops. Panopticon, meanwhile, offers up covers of country singers like Blaze Foley and Chris Knight in addition to two originals, which are even more beautiful than the acoustic material on his last album The Scars Of Man On The Once Nameless Wilderness, thanks in no small part to the sombre, sublimely understated cello, courtesy of Patrick Urban of German black metallers Dรคmmerfarben.
If youโre after Panopticonโs more metal side though, then his split with Nechochwen delivers in spades. โRuneโs Heartโ is an intensely personal twenty minute epic written as a letter to his youngest son Rune, who has recently been battling a rare heart condition, with a portion of the profits being donated back to the childrenโs hospital heart unit that helped saved his life. After kicking off with some trademark blackened blasting, the song suddenly and unexpectedly cuts to a volley of wonky, head-spinning Voivod-ian riffery, dishing out dissonant thrashy chords before storming headfirst through swatches of triumphant melo-death licks peppered with some of Lunnโs cleanest, most harmonious sweep picking yet, conjuring up a sound somewhere between old At The Gates and Necrophagist. Itโs a testament to Lunnโs inventiveness and skill as a songwriter that all these disparate influences come together so organically and effectively, proving beyond all doubt that Panopticon is far from just another bog-standard atmospheric black metal act. On the other side, fellow US duo Nechochwen offer more of a mixed bag, but are still definitely worth checking out. The band fuse their melodic black metal with strands of Native American folk music, in a similar fashion to how Panopticon implements bluegrass elements, but Nechochwen definitely sound more comfortable on the longer, more metallic cuts like the furious โThe Megalithโ than they do on folkier pieces like clumsy opener โOf Wisdom And Prophecyโ โ although the morose โThe Mingling Watersโ effectively builds from gentle, meditative strumming to a convincingly doomy, imposing finale. Whilst they donโt come close to beating Panopticon at his own game, thereโs still plenty to enjoy here for fans of this distinctive brand of American black metal.
Cult Of Fire – Moksha
(Beyond Eyes)
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Cult Of Fire – Nirvana
(Beyond Eyes)
Panopticon may have returned with two splits this month, but Czech black metal Cult Of Fire have gone one better and delivered two full-length albums, their first full-length material in seven years. The band are well known for their fixation on Hindi mythology and religious aesthetic that does away with the standard Satanic clichรฉs of the genre, but despite the psychedelic nature of their artwork, their sound is much more traditional and melodic than you might expect at first glance. There are enough creative flourishes and little nuggets of unorthodoxy sprinkled in to separate them from the pack of course, and they certainly have their own distinct personality, but their approach isnโt quite as conceptual or โout there" as other ritualistic act like, say, Batushka. Moksha, the first of the two new albums, is probably the most the band have indulged their more ambient and avant-garde tendencies to date, but even then these are tethered to a backbone of bristling, vicious black metal โ for example, after an obscure rhythmic introduction that sounds like a field recording taken directly from a holy temple, opener โZrozenรญ Vรฝjimeฤnรฉhoโ explodes in a colourful burst of melodic, windswept riffage. โ(ne)ฤistรฝโ pairs a blistering, razor sharp Dissection style assault with subtly implemented sitar swells, whilst โHar Har Mahadevโ breaks from crystalline, forlorn lead lines and even the recordโs immaculate production to dive into barbaric, primitive and extremely murky bludgeoning, sort of like Beherit drunkely bursting into a Drudkh practice and pelting them with rotten fruit.
Nirvana, meanwhile, is an even darker affair, allowing the band to emphasise their more melancholic moments over the course of five lengthy pieces. The record begins on an ominous drone, before unleashing a laser focussed cacophony of blastbeats and sinister chanted vocals. โBuddha 3โ eases off slightly on the ferocity of Moksha and focusses more on yearning, sorrowful guitar harmonies and more dynamic rhythmic patterns, with an almost post-punk sensibility at times. โBuddha 5โ closes the record in a dramatic note, as swirling, overblown orchestral elements brush up against the bandโs jet black guitar lines in thrilling fashion. Both these records are satisfying, well-rounded listening experiences in their own right, but when combined form an imposingly massive and almost transcendental new entity thatโs likely to please black metal traditionalists just as much as open-minded prog nerds.
OvO – Miasma
(Artoffact)
Italyโs most unique duo OvO are celebrating their twentieth anniversary this year, a full two decades of smashing together sludge metal, industrial noise, dark electronica and whatever else they can consume into their psychedelic, mutant approach to extreme metal. Whilst that electronic element has always underpinned their music, Miasma is perhaps their most overtly electronic offering yet, with harsh, pounding tracks like โYou Living Lieโ and โSicosiโ fusing undulating techno beats with devastating doom riffs and inhuman shrieks in a similar manner to The Bodyโs modern day classic No One Deserves Happiness. Always a band to embody and embrace contradictions however, Miasma also features some of the most immediate, visceral and live sounding material the pair have ever produced, with songs like ferocious opener โMary Dieโ approaching grindcore levels of intensity with frantic, extremely harsh guitar textures, brutalist syncopated rhythms and absolutely feral vocals. โIncuboโs collision of caveman riffs with searing digital noise feels like an anarchic blend of Hellhammer and Atari Teenage Riot, whilst tracks like โLueโ and the thoroughly frightening title track are more spacious, allowing the bandโs oft-cited Diamanda Galรกs influence to come to the fore as alternately heavenly and distressing vocal emanations echo out against vast walls of reverb.
There are a number of unexpected but extremely effective guest performances here too, with ร rabrot frontman Kjetil Nernesโ unmistakably sinister vocals lending Lynchian fever dream โLโeremitaโ an extremely disquieting cinematic feel. Fellow Italian noise mongers Holiday Inn add some head-spinning textures to the militant thud of โBurn De Hausโ, but more surprising is the inclusion of DIY Balkan futurist Gnuฤฤi, as her brash, sassy rapping suddenly appears out of nowhere on โTesting My Poiseโs abrasive, jet black filth like Gnaw Their Tongues and M.I.A. making out in the back of a dimly lit Berlin squat rave. After twenty years together, itโs amazing that OvO can continue to confound expectations and sound this genuinely wild and unhinged, as Miasma surely ranks up there as one of their most intense, inventive and downright weirdest releases yet.
Beehoover – Low Performer
(Self-released)
Itโs been a good month for oddball doom duos, with Germanyโs Beehoover also unleashing their seventh full-length Low Performer, which ironically enough is anything but. Having been dishing out weird, angular and inventive sludgy riffery for the best part of fifteen years, itโs a wonder Beehoover arenโt a household name by now โ but then maybe thatโs because the bandโs distinctive bass and drums sound doesnโt really sit that comfortably in any genre bracket, with bassist Ingmarโs histrionic wailing vocals giving the band a uniquely bizarre sound that is all their own. Itโs almost like a blend of the Melvinsโ wry sense of humour, Magmaโs joyous otherness and the theatrical portentousness of Spainโs Orthodox, but even that doesnโt quite capture it.
Low Performer doesnโt present any huge stylistic departures for the band, but it is an immensely satisfying summarisation of their long and storied career. The albumโs front end wastes no time in dishing out huge, planet shaking riffs, with opener โGoreplayโ riding the kind of infectious groove thatโs impossible not to nod along to, and โWeisenheimer Bluesโ stretching lackadaisical desert rock rhythms into a surreal, minimalist soundscape. The albumโs latter half finds the duo stretching their prog muscle however, with songs like the dynamic eight minute โFishermanโ feeling more like a heavily sedated Primus trying to keep their balance on a particularly turbulent ferry, whilst reverb swamped closer โHell Is Paradiseโ is one of the most layered and atmospheric pieces the pair have put together yet, recalling Omโs meditative haze before exploding into an awkward but hugely powerful groove, with Ingmar belting out ultra harsh screams alongside his usual croon and Claus battering his kit in an immensely expressive manner. All in all, this is another prime slice of bizarre Beehoover goodness that’s sure to satiate curious newcomers and fried old heads alike.
Gnaw – Barking Orders
(Sleeping Giant Glossolalia/SGG Records)
On the subject of perpetually underrated and gloriously weird metal bands, Iโm still amazed more people arenโt losing their shit over Gnaw. Formed by one of metalโs most genuinely terrifying vocalists, Alan Dubin, after the dissolution of Khanate back in 2006, comparisons to his old band are perhaps inevitable, but aside from Dubinโs paint stripping screech, Gnaw are a very different proposition in many ways. Theyโre a lot more rhythmic for starters, especially on this latest EP; whereas Khanateโs sense of rhythm was much more free-form and abstract, even the sparsest moments on Barking Orders are still tethered to a pounding, authoritative pulse. The cover of Einsturzende Neubautenโs โKollapsโ is probably the riffiest recording Dubin has been involved in for years too, built around a taut, repetitive guitar passage that drills incessantly into your brain as piercing electronics explode around it. Tracks like โCry Louderโ and โThen The Sunriseโ delve into even more industrial territory, reminiscent of Godflesh in places but with much less of an emphasis on low-end and far more on spacious drones and grating, trebly scree. Itโs a bracing, abrasive listen, and at just under half an hour, just long enough to tide the faithful over to the next full-length release and palatable enough to serve as a great introduction for anyone who hasnโt yet had the bejesus scared out of them by one of Dubinโs projects.
Invocation – Attunement To Death
(Iron Bonehead)
Chile has a reputation for cultivating particularly feral sounding metal bands, and up-and-coming trio Invocation are no exception. Rather than mining the same vicious thrash-based assault as countrymen like Pentagram or Torturer however, Invocation specialise in a murky kind of occult, cavernous death metal, more in tune with the likes of Incantation or Dead Congregation, but with a confidently old-school aesthetic.
This debut album has a really gritty, organic feel to it, boasting a production that manages to sound raw and ominous whilst also being crystal clear, allowing each instrument to punch through and really highlighting the inventiveness of some of these riffs โ check out the bizarre choppy chords in โThe First Mirrorโ, which lock into a genuinely disorientating groove midway through. The vocals are hoarse and deep, but perhaps raspier than a lot of other acts playing this style of death metal, and lend the album a much more ferocious and energetic voice than your standard non-descript guttural rumbles. The band sound just at home on the albumโs longer, more involved cuts like โSecret Tonguesโ or labyrinthine centrepiece โDivine Transitionโ as they do on more straight-forward, blastier cuts like โThe Officiantsโ or barnstorming opener โFlying Ointmentsโ. Attunement To Death wonโt present any real surprises for those already down with this style of death metal, but it’s both a highly proficient and immediately gratifying example of the genre and a hugely promising start for Invocation. If you like evil, esoteric death metal but find yourself turned off by excessively murky production, then this is the album for you.
Faustian Pact – Outojen Tornien Varjoissa
(Werewolf)
After releasing a trilogy of demos between 2008 and 2010, Finnish black metal trio Faustian Pact promptly disappeared for the following decade before resurfacing earlier this month with this, their debut full-length. The band slot right into that lineage of obscure, esoteric and defiantly weird Finnish black metal, with a vaguely Tolkien-esque olde worlde vibe and a slightly symphonic edge, albeit in that kind of cheap, charmingly home-made kind of way. Opener โSaastainen Valo Lintutornissaโ establishes this eccentric approach right from the off, with its cold, trebly tremolo riffs, fidgety blastbeats and blasphemous croaks accompanied by ethereal, almost operatic female vocals, wonky out-of-tune horns and quaint, chirpy keys. Admittedly, things do get very silly at times: โValottomien Askelten Takanaโ, for example, kicks off with a deliciously evil and very minimal, very Finnish riff, before the track introduces strangely cheery synths that sound like theyโve been directly lifted from an old Final Fantasy game, and a big cheesy melodic chorus. Despite teetering on the edge of ridiculousness however, this album remains entertaining throughout, with just enough raw riffing power to compensate for the frequent pantomime-esque flights of fancy. Sometimes these really work too โ closer โViimeisen Tyrannin Silmaฬโ sounds like prime โ90s Summoning played with the viciousness and drive of early Emperor, and itโs pretty potent indeed.
Itโs tempting to say this is the kind of thing that youโll either love or hate, but truthfully, I neither love nor hate it; the bandโs eccentric persona can sometimes feel quite contrived or twee, occasionally sounding curiously (and presumably unintentionally) similar to legendary black metal parody act Vondur, but by the same token, this record has bags of personality and a unique, surreal character to it that you simply donโt get from your average bunch of po-faced Marduk clones. If youโre a fan of weird, wonky and downright strange black metal, then approach this with an open mind and youโll find much to enjoy here.
Wrekmeister Harmonies – We Love To Look At The Carnage
(Thrill Jockey)
If youโve made it through all the above racket, itโs probably time to give your war torn ears a well-earned rest with the gentle, subdued new album from Wrekmeister Harmonies. Having gained a reputation for their huge, ambitious ensemble recordings on their earlier albums, the project seems to have been gradually stripping down their sound ever since 2016โs Light Falls, focussing on the core duo of J.R. Robinson and Esther Shaw whilst toning down their epic, maximalist tendencies in favour of shorter, more traditional song structures. We Love To Look At The Carnage is probably their biggest leap towards this sombre, more introverted direction yet, a solemn, folky affair that was recorded in a cabin in the woods with only Thor Harris of Swans and Shearwater fame, Xiu Xiuโs Jamie Stewart and an ever present sense of existential dread for company. Robinsonโs moribund baritone and Shawโs heart wrenching violin lend songs like โMidnight To Sixโ and โCoyotes Of Central Parkโ a vibe similar to The Burning World era Swans, whilst on โThe Rat Catcherโ Robinson sounds more like Nick Cave doing his best David Tibet impression, as the piece patiently builds from subtle chamber music beginnings into the heaviest and most enveloping drone on the whole album.
Indeed, that heaviness perhaps feels a bit under-utilised here, and itโs difficult not to miss that apocalyptic wall of sound that Wrekmeister Harmonies conjured in their early days sometimes. But at the same time, this is still a staggeringly mature, affecting record thatโs confident enough to bide its time and let its sinister, understated sense of despair unfurl steadily and slowly, instead of blasting the listener with full-on sensory overload. It’s not the bandโs best, but itโs a sterling addition to their discography nonetheless and a fascinating experience for the patient listener.
