Windthrow - Treacherous Beckonings

By Calen Henry. Windthrow is a one-man black metal band from Sweden. Behind Treacherous Beckonings’ unassuming cover, though, lurks something a bit special that shines through the haze of bedroom black metal proliferating on Bandcamp. It’s a great little debut that showcases the band’s sound, never overstays its welcome, and hints at where the band could go next.

By Calen Henry.


Windthrow is a one-man black metal band from Sweden. Behind Treacherous Beckonings’ unassuming cover, though, lurks something a bit special that shines through the haze of bedroom black metal proliferating on Bandcamp. It’s a great little debut that showcases the band’s sound, never overstays its welcome, and hints at where the band could go next.

Windthrow doesn’t exactly do anything new, but the influences it brings together work extremely well. Riffs are split between blistering black metal tremolos and galloping heavy metal. Though the album itself is quite short the songs and riffs are long and epic, twisting and turning into and out of solos and twin lead guitar passages.

The performances by lone member Robin Petterson are very good. The riffs all hit and the leads are epic and memorable, even the nyckelharpa interlude is well done. Drums are what really set Windthrow apart from the pack. Lots of single member black metal bands use programmed drums and, unless they’re very well programmed or the artist wants the cold, clinical sound of drum samples, it can detract from the music. Petterson plays real drums on Treacherous Beckonings, and it brings the whole package together.

To top things off is a lovely dynamic master for the digital (DR 10). I’m sure the limited LP run sounds fantastic with a master like that but, thankfully, those of us going digital aren’t left out in the cold.

The most interesting part of Treacherous Beckonings is that it stands as a good debut, but also screams out for where Petterson can go with the project. He’s got the riffs, the chops, the leads, a cool folk instrument and, most importantly for a one man band, the ability to edit. All the pieces are there to develop something a touch longer, integrating the nyckelharpa into the metal songs and giving the whole project its own sound completely.

Beastwars - IV

By Calen Henry. Beastwars never promised a fourth album. After going on hiatus upon completing their apocalyptic trilogy, followed by singer Matt Hyde’s Non-Hodgkin lymphoma diagnosis, more from the trio seemed even less likely. Matt’s diagnosis, it turns out, catalyzed creativity.

By Calen Henry.

Artwork by Nick Keller.

Beastwars never promised a fourth album. After going on hiatus upon completing their apocalyptic trilogy, followed by singer Matt Hyde’s Non-Hodgkin lymphoma diagnosis, more from the trio seemed even less likely. Matt’s diagnosis, it turns out, catalyzed creativity. Booking studio time straight after Hyde’s chemo treatment ended, the band recorded IV; a harrowing journey inwards through guilt, fear, regret, and hope.

IV brings together the sound of each album in the trilogy; the straight up riff worship of Beastwars, the more angular riffing of Blood Becomes Fire, and the psychedelia tinged, slow burning riffs of The Death of All Things. The longer songs and component riffs on IV often bring all these parts together in a single track while solos twist and turn leading from heavy passages into ambient sometimes post-rock tinged sections. It feels more like a journey than before due in part to the frequent compound metering that drives songs forward, but it also sounds grungier, adding more guitar effects, and doubling down on the loud/quiet verse/chorus structure. The core approach of huge riffs supported by fuzzed out bass remains the same.

Matt’s vocals have changed, though. His quiet, seething vocals still drip with menace, but his huge rafter-rattling howl is thinner, more pained. It’s pleading, bleeding emotion. It could be confronting mortality, recording an album straight after chemo, the crushing weight of torment that pours forth, or it could be all of that. Matt’s performance is gripping. It’s his most nakedly emotional performance and this from the man who opens the band’s catalog with "Damn the Sky," a howling sermon to a dying world.

"Raise the Sword" opens the album on a note of hope and defiance. A short feedback build crashes into a trademark trudging guitar riff supported by fuzz bass with a howling verse before breaking into a quiet bass-led chorus. The verses focus on the toll of regret and guilt, while the chorus frames it with hope,

Breathe long
Breathe wise
Don't fall
Raise the Sword

The song’s bridge breaks into a sample from “The Quiet Earth”, about science in the wrong hands which, at first, seems incongruous with the themes of guilt and hope, but its inclusion becomes clear over the course of the album as Matt couples personal guilt with deep guilt and regret over the state of the earth.

An ambient interlude then brings back the main riff, underscoring another hopeful verse, before a chorus reprise into an unresolved chord while Matt howls “Raise the Sword” one last time. A perfect set-up for the album, hope and defiance in the lyrics, with the unresolved chord emphasizing the beginning of something, not the end.

"Wolves and Prey" opens with effect drenched drums, before the heaviness starts. Again centering on regret, it begins to introduce the colossal societal guilt hinted at in "Raise the Sword". Not only personal guilt, but guilt at the state of the earth and what it means for future generations,

Speak of old kings
Hands of your loss
Let everyone say
What have we done

The song’s bridge introduces a new permutation of the band’s sound; their characteristic extended, stomping bass-led sections underneath long, lyrical guitar leads lending the album an introspective and dream-like quality.

"Storms of Mars", with it’s wah drenched intro, hearkens back to The Death of All Things, before launching into the one of the fastest riffs on the album supporting dual guitar leads with lyrics adopting classical and sci-fi imagery to beg for more time,

Let me live
Give me ten more years
Let the child grow
Let me see new Rome

At the same time it warns not to repeat the mistakes of the past,

A refugee
A world as cruel as the last
Remember thee old Gods
Remember their rage

The song shifts into crunchy bass-led riffing, reminiscent of Blood Becomes Fire, and back before an ambient interlude, led by Matt’s bubbling mid-range rage builds to the song’s climax, over top of octave doubled tremolo riffing he begs to “let the child live, to build new Rome”.

"This Mortal Decay" opens with a classic mid-tempo riff, supported by faster than average drumming, and confronts death more directly, describing looking down from a mountain to see what humanity has wrought, and how despite it all, we can’t give up or give in, or escape our “mortal decay”. The vocals hit a sweet spot with the lurching guitar line; never quite out of control, but never settling down to the simmering rage of the more menacing passages on the album. The only exception is after a string swell to support the song’s bridge, an indictment of reckless technological advancement, where the vocal intensity perfectly matches the instruments

Oh God, oh God
Bring us your neon cross
Oh God, oh God
Drive your speed machine

"Omens", the album’s lead single, opens with a pseudo-gallop reminiscent of “Damn the Sky”, and is classic Beastwars through and through, but with flashes of the more psychedelic from the pre-chorus wah guitar to the almost post-rock outro. It was an extremely well chosen single to show fans the band’s triumphant return as well as their subtle sonic shift both instrumentally and lyrically with lyrics that are more esoteric and closer to the band’s older material than the rest of the album

After brief ambiance, "Sound of the Grave" is a torturous guilt-trip driven by rumbling, fuzzed out bass as the guitars build into the fury of the chorus underneath Matt’s seething sermon on forgiveness, death, and nothingness. The consistent rumbling riffs match the off-kilter tone of the lyrics, wondering what it’s worth in the end,

And I try for forgiveness
In the time of the damned
And nothing is better
Than being in the ground

"The Traveller" may be the album's most tortured vocal showcase. Matt wails over nothing but a solo guitar track until the laid back groove kicks before switching to a classic New Wave drum beat supporting a wicked lyrical twin guitar line through the chorus. It leads into a dissonant, chorus-drenched guitar solo ripped straight from the Nirvana playbook before (again, Nirvana-style) the song gets heavier and almost falls apart as Matt intones,

Blessed is the world
And we all must leave

"Like Dried Blood", in contrast to it’s morbid title, starts with clean vocals accompanied by piano and drums before the typical Beastwars (circa Death of All Things) sound bursts forth then parts and brings piano back to lead. Lyrically it bookends the album; ending the fight started with "Raise the Sword" but far more general with Matt saying his great war is over, but

Like all this blood
It will wash away

IV is a towering achievement. Beastwars have always been darker than average for stoner rock, dealing obliquely with environmental ruin and existential angst. IV turns the lens deeply inward and delivers their most emotionally raw and engrossing album yet. It’s as harrowing as it is addicting to listen to and it’s my favourite album of 2019.

Sutekh Hexen – Sutekh Hexen

By Craig Hayes. Real-life brutalities frequently eclipse fictional ones, and the world routinely serves up enough atrocities before breakfast to satisfy the hungriest psychopathic appetites. Of course, all the appalling acts we witness doesn’t stop us from also embracing mountains of abominable art.

By Craig Hayes.


Real-life brutalities frequently eclipse fictional ones, and the world routinely serves up enough atrocities before breakfast to satisfy the hungriest psychopathic appetites. Of course, all the appalling acts we witness doesn’t stop us from also embracing mountains of abominable art. Chiefly because we satiate so many of our demons exploring myriad and malevolent artistic avenues.

In music’s case, reveling in horrifying noise fulfills a desire many of us have to cast aside our public faces and dwell in the deepest shadows. Hateful and hostile music is cathartic, and fiendish communiqués quench our darkest thoughts – which is where nerve-shredding duo Sutekh Hexen enters the frame.

Sutekh Hexen are architects of the unknown, constructing houses of the unholy, and while they’re based in Oakland, California, the band’s aural assaults operate on a more esoteric plane of existence. Sutekh Hexen combine ambient crawls and harsh noise with drone and raw black metal, and their unearthly music is reliably arcane and abrasive. Imagine a delirious fusion of Sunn O)))’s Black One and Lustmord’s darkest explorations as a starting point, and then dig ever deeper into sulfurous catacombs of sense-shattering tenebrosity. That’s somewhat close to Sutekh Hexen’s mode of mining terrors beyond belief, and the band’s recent self-titled album is replete with ear-splitting horrors.

Sutekh Hexen’s new release is touted as their “first proper studio” album, but the band have been prolific dealers of corruptive noise before now. Over the past decade, Sutekh Hexen have released a series of demos, EPs, splits, and more comprehensive releases via a number of underground labels, and their latest eponymous album is being released by noted misanthropes Sentient Ruin Laboratories.

A decade into their career, Sutekh Hexen show no sign of creative fatigue, and their aesthetic strengths and ability to erect temples of transgression are still markedly unnerving. The 10 tracks on Sutekh Hexen certainly show plenty of inhuman muscle while wrenching the gates of Hell open wider than ever. Sutekh Hexen have previously spoken of their interest in trespassing boundaries and distorting thresholds, and new tracks, like “Descent”, “Eye of the Quill”, and unsettling drone “SubStratus”, encapsulate those ideals while being hypnotic and harrowing in both tone and texture.

Pyres of static and filth-lashed noise hiss and clatter throughout Sutekh Hexen, and the band’s defiant music sounds both profound and profane. Tracks like “Segue I: Ouroborus”, “Segue II: Xirang” and “Segue III: Ascent” exist as calmer soundscapes, albeit no less surreal and corrosive, with their tension-ratcheting instrumentation amplifying Sutekh Hexen’s haunting atmospherics.

Elsewhere, “Torrential” is a viscerally intense deluge of disorientating blackened noise, where every piece of vile and venomous artillery in Sutekh Hexen’s armory is unleashed in a cacophonous onslaught. The band do a magnificent job of scraping the most odious and blood-curdling tar from the depths of their caustic creative storehouse. But Sutekh Hexen also know how to gnaw at your anxieties with eerie subtlety. “Pangea Ultima” is a perfect example of that. The track ends Sutekh Hexen on a foreboding note, with threads of grim and gloom-ridden drone dissipating in the murk and mist.

Overall, Sutekh Hexen is as ominous and cryptic as you’d expect, and Sutekh Hexen conjure an uneasy ambience throughout. There’s a lot of pleasure to be found immersing yourself in the band’s world of abject horrors and the ruthless deconstruction of their music plays just as an important role as the building of intimidating steeples of noise.

As always, Sutekh Hexen’s labyrinthine prayers are both meditative and murderous. Audio nightmares leech minimal and maximal chills, and the band’s enveloping tracks exhibit sickening levels of dread as well as an abhorrent sense of awe.

Sutekh Hexen feels fathomless as abyss-bound songs drag you into the darkest pits. But the album also feels infinite as black holes of soul-splintering noise tear reality asunder. Sutekh Hexen remain a mystery and a contradiction, and while Sutekh Hexen is unquestionably disturbing, it’s also sinisterly seductive. Sutekh Hexen's subversive and insidious genius is palpable on their latest release. As is the sadistic glee they experience wreaking havoc on our minds.

Gygax - High Fantasy

By Dave Beaudoin. The third release from SoCal rockers Gygax marks a return to the high octane sound of their first album, and while it is a solid effort, High Fantasy doesn’t show the same evolution of their sound that was apparent on their sophomore effort.

By Dave Beaudoin.

Artwork by Fares Maese.

The third release from SoCal rockers Gygax marks a return to the high octane sound of their first album, and while it is a solid effort, High Fantasy doesn’t show the same evolution of their sound that was apparent on their sophomore effort. That doesn’t mean this isn’t a great Gygax album though. On the whole, the album works well, and each track captures the feeling of playing tabletop games with friends. It’s that translation of the theme of tabletop gaming to music that has been the defining feature of Gygax and they don’t put a foot wrong here. The excitement of building a world comes through in the interplay of the dueling guitars and narrative tension created by the vocals - from the intro riff of the opening track, “Light Bender,” the album dives right into lore, with lyrics that sound ripped from a Monstrous Manual.

Gygax’s previous album, Second Edition, stood on the precipice of being a full-on concept album and was a significant step beyond their debut record thematically. This also makes it the kind of ambitious record that can be extremely hard to follow. So it makes sense that High Fantasy represents a return to the roots of Gygax rather than as a further extension of their sound. From the start High Fantasy recalls the free-form roots of the band’s first album Critical Hits and collects a rogues gallery of D&D themed jams rather than presenting a more cohesive sonic narrative. Each track still is laden with lore, but taken as a whole High Fantasy serves as more of a general soundtrack to Dungeons and Dragons rather than guiding the listener through an imagined campaign.

High Fantasy leans heavily on the dueling guitars of Byrant Throckmorton and Wes Wilson to create an energetic and driving album while Eric Harris’ vocals tie everything together. Finally, adding extra flavor are some great keyboard lines by Ian Martyn. Overall the mix is great, and really puts the dueling guitars right out front, leading the charge. I do wish the keyboard sections were given more attention, as there are a few moments where they get lost in the mix and you have to work to really hear the fantastic work being done there.

Because every track is linked thematically not to just Dungeons and Dragons, but to the experience of playing those games, the feeling of traversing a fantastic world rife with magical monsters and fighting side by side with your party for honor, loot, or both carries each track. This is especially apparent on “Spell Shaker” as well as the first single off the album “Hide Mind.” Even the more chilled out instrumental “Acquisition, Magnus Canis” evokes the victory music of video games like Final Fantasy processed through the sensibilities of Thin Lizzy.

“Acquisition, Magnus Canis” also serves as a short intermission between the two halves of the record, both of which keep up a pretty high level of intensity. Even “Mirror Image,” the closest thing to a ballad on this record features some of the most sun-drenched Southern California guitar work I’ve ever heard on a Gygax album. It’s more Gary Hoey than Dick Dale, but it works in context and features one of the catchiest riffs on High Fantasy.

Ultimately, the one real problem with the album is that while each song is solid, there are few standouts and there isn’t enough variation on the album to make any one song particularly memorable. I’ve seen other critics say that Gygax is in a rut with this album and while I understand where they’re coming from, I don’t think it’s really a rut. High Fantasy almost feels like a greatest hits album where every song is immediately familiar and there aren’t any low points, but taken as a whole it fails to make a compelling case or evolve the band’s sound beyond Second Edition. What’s interesting is that if we look at this format from the perspective of tabletop gaming, it helps to rationalize this approach.

If High Fantasy is viewed as a “Gygax Sourcebook,” it makes much more sense as a complete work. In the world of tabletop gaming, between major revisions to the rules (usually referred to as “editions”), companies release sourcebooks that flesh out the world within the bounds established by the core books (in D&D this is the Dungeon Master’s Guide and Player’s Handbook). Sourcebooks have historically introduced some of the most legendary settings and iconic characters that have ever existed in tabletop gaming. In Dungeons and Dragons, for example, the Tomb of Annihilation, Forgotten Realms, and Ravenloft are all iconic settings that were introduced outside of the main books and hold a much more prominent place in defining Dungeons and Dragons as a popular culture artifact than the rules laid out in the handbooks. The Tomb of Annihilation was even featured prominently in the book Ready Player One as the touchstone for Dungeons and Dragons culture. High Fantasy works on the same level as these types of game supplements. On High Fantasy Gygax take the “rules” they’ve established in Critical Hits and Second Edition and play within that context to tell expanded stories. The result is a great album that delves deep into the underground caverns of the Gygax underdark and extends the fantasy while avoiding making any changes to the rules.

This view also resolves the internal conflict I had when I first listened to High Fantasy. Every track on the record can hold its own against nearly anything else in their catalog, but the lack of a central theme or story seemed like a deal breaker. Realizing that not every Gygax album is going to be a new set of “rules” helps to reconcile what I was expecting from a new Gygax record and allowed me to respect it for what it is, a collection of great rock tracks about dungeons and Dragons. If you’re a fan of Gygax you’re going to definitely dig this album, but if you’re looking for the next evolution of their sound you’ll have to wait. Maybe for the third edition.

Consummation - The Great Solar Hunter

By Bryan Camphire. Consummation unleash their debut full length, The Great Solar Hunter, on Profound Lore Records following an excellent EP from 2017 and a demo from 2012. The band took their time with this long player and this fact is evident in the music's meticulous delivery. A

By Bryan Camphire.

Artwork by Artem Grigoryev.

Consummation unleash their debut full length, The Great Solar Hunter, on Profound Lore Records following an excellent EP from 2017 and a demo from 2012. The band took their time with this long player and this fact is evident in the music's meticulous delivery. A black metal trio from Brisbane, for this outing they are joined by American lead guitarist John Gossard of the band Dispirit. This suite of five songs clocks in at a little over fifty minutes. The lengthy tracks allow for rich narratives to unravel as the music runs its course.

Consummation's brand of black metal is thick and aggressive. The performances are precise and the production is crisp, adding to the momentum of the music. Gnarled snaky melodies permeate the album. Bass and vocals take a back seat in the mix to guitars and drums. It's no doubt a conscious choice, emphasizing the midrange frequencies allows the guitars ample amounts of snarl and bite. All of this is accentuated by the leads, which drop in and out like a somnambulant madman raving at the stars.

"Apotheosis", the forth track, is a stand out for me. This tune is played at a slower tempo than the others. This reprieve opens the music up, steeping the listener in dread. The winding guitars drag across the song with the effect of a rusted serrated blade bound to cause infection and make a huge mess.

With a title like The Great Solar Hunter, you might expect a magisterial release. In this regard it's safe to say you won't be disappointed. The tension is ratcheted up through ever-changing ornamentation and layering of melodies as the songs build. Keyboards are used sparingly and usually towards a song's climax, supplying the music with the air of triumphant battle hymns.

Consummation can be thought of as tilling similar fields as some other great bands from the southern hemisphere; Vesicant and Heresiarch come to mind. Theirs is an ominous sound rife with dissonant chords, labyrinthine song structures and decidedly evil atmosphere. Consummation achieve this lurid ambiance deftly on The Great Solar Hunter, showcasing the band's expansive capabilities and potential.