Bosse-de-Nage - Further Still

By Justin C. Reviewing Bosse-de-Nage's new album feels a little like a homecoming to me: III was one of the earlier reviews I wrote for this site way back in 2012. It was in December, and I remember a lot of long, cold commutes to and from work

By Justin C.


Reviewing Bosse-de-Nage's new album feels a little like a homecoming to me: III was one of the earlier reviews I wrote for this site way back in 2012. It was in December, and I remember a lot of long, cold commutes to and from work trying to wedge my brain into what, at times, seemed like almost impenetrable music, a sound that seemed to try to push me away while at the same time continually revealing hidden depths. It haunted me, in the way that only good art can, much like All Fours did three years later. Now, in 2018, the band is back with their fifth full-length, Further Still.

In a break with their more anonymous past, the band has actually done some press this time around, with vocalist Bryan Manning sitting down with Invisible Oranges for an interview. The interview briefly touches on whether Further Still has "nostalgia" moments from earlier albums. I started this review talking about nostalgia, so it's an interesting question. I don't hear "throwback" elements to earlier albums as much as I hear the band refining their core sound. As early as II, the band had come to the kind of sound that, to my mind, defines them, but doesn't confine them. Maybe at some point they’ll do a complete stylistic shift, but so far, sinking into new Bosse-de-Nage always feels both familiar and bewildering at the same time.

Duality in general has long been the band's hallmark. The lyrics to the first two tracks--"The Trench" and "Down Here"--are both bleak little short stories of people who have been abandoned or about to be, yet there are moments of sweeping, chiming melody in the guitar lines in "Down Here" that, ironically, sound almost sunny. "My Shroud" starts with a slow burn, then alternates between energetic, almost poppy guitar lines and sections with some of the most intricate and harrowing compositions they've done. (Big emphasis on "almost" when I say "almost poppy"--they're probably not going to tour with Ed Sheeran any time soon.) The lyrics themselves describe an invisible shroud the narrator wears from birth to death. The listener is free to read whatever they wish into this narrative device--does the shroud represent the inevitable grinding down of life, or is there more to it?

"But wait," you might say. "That doesn't seem as weird as 'The Washerwoman' from All Fours. Isn't there something stranger?" Oh yes. I won't give away the whole story, but tension builds throughout "Sword Swallower." What might seem like an old-fashioned circus trick takes on new dimensions as the swallower takes his act in a fairly extreme direction before his crowd responds. It put me in mind of Kafka's story "A Hunger Artist,” but that's not surprising since Manning discusses his enjoyment of Kafka in the IO interview.

The music, as ever, is abrasive, punishing, and glorious. Manning's vocals are still of the strip-paint-off-the-walls variety, and the instrumentals grind, stab, warp, and soothe as needed. And as always, those drums. Those crazy, intricate, deft drums. I can say without exaggeration that the percussion on these albums are some of my favorite in all of metaldom.

I think the cost of entry for the listener of Bosse-de-Nage remains high. As Iggy Pop once said of John Coltrane, the music is difficult to get close to. But as with their previous work, this album will plant a seed inside you and grow if you let it.

Ails - The Unraveling

By Justin C. It was about this time last year that I was giddy over two new songs by Ails, a band fronted by ex-Ludicra members Laurie Shanaman and Christy Cather. Hearing these two together again in a new black metal project is a delight

By Justin C.

Artwork by Andrei Bouzikov.

It was about this time last year that I was giddy over two new songs by Ails, a band fronted by ex-Ludicra members Laurie Shanaman and Christy Cather. Hearing these two together again in a new black metal project is a delight, and Ails' first full-length, The Unraveling, provided everything I wanted and more.

It's tempting to compare and contrast this band with Ludicra. That legacy looms large. And after all, if you put Robert Plant and Jimmy Page together, the end result is undoubtedly going to be a bit Zeppelin-ish, and the combination of vocals from Shanaman and Cather on top of Cather's guitar work can't help but be a bit Ludicr-ish. Album opener "The Echoes Waned" even has a lovely acoustic guitar interlude with some heavy picking, not unlike what I noted way back when (in my very first review here) of Ludicra's Hollow Psalms. But the more I nerded out on musical analysis, the more I realized it was a bit unfair to both the other members of Ludicra and Ails. And truth be told, that lovely familiarity is mixed with plenty of new sounds.

"Any Spark of Life" mashes up tremolo and palm-muted, thrashy goodness in guitar work that's both tempestuous and melodic at the same time, and that's coupled with Shanaman's always-ferocious screams on some bleak material: "The only reflections I can see / are the dark circles underneath / eyes that harness the sadness." "Mare Weighs Down" brings in a sense of horror movie soundtrack with lyrics about nightmares: "Falling into slumber brings no peace of mind / it stirs up horrors." "The Ruin" takes a more feral turn before the album closes out with "Bitter Past," a track that ranges over blasts of guitar, clean vocals, and breaks where Shanaman's shrieks are allowed to howl over just the rhythm section. The lyrics themselves aren't in the least bit coy: "Forgive to forget / forgive to move on / spoken so eloquently / but chronically wrong." The music burns in your ears with extreme metal's version of catchiness, and the words forego convoluted Satanist texts for emotions and experiences anyone can relate to.

At 41 minutes, this album is short, but only in the sense that I want so much more. The length is actually downright perfect. Easy to absorb in one sitting, but with plenty of things to chew on for repeat listens. Have I written this as a bit of a fan boy? Yeah, probably, but the internet is welcome to decry my lack of "objectivity" in my subjective opinion. If you know Ludicra, you'll want to get on this. If you don't, you'll want to get on this, then go back and get your hands on everything Shanaman and Cather have done.

Heinali and Matt Finney - How We Lived

By Craig Hayes. My mental health has taken me to some exceptionally dark places over the years. Most notably when taking my own life seemed like the only option I had left. I’ve always been conscious that killing myself would destroy my family

By Craig Hayes.


My mental health has taken me to some exceptionally dark places over the years. Most notably when taking my own life seemed like the only option I had left. I’ve always been conscious that killing myself would destroy my family, and possibly irk the few friends I have left in this world. But there’s a good reason they call it mental illness.

Being mentally unwell often leads me to believe that my absence would hurt less than my continued presence –– for all concerned. But I’m not telling you this because I’m trying to be dramatic or elicit any sympathy. Many of us have moments in our lives where the void beckons, and trying to stitch together a broken mind and disordered life in the midst of emotional chaos is a relevant issue right here.

I was 9 years old when I saw my first psychiatrist: 37 years later I’m still fighting to survive. What I’m looking for most is understanding. What I want is to have my self-loathing exorcised. I know I’m not alone in desiring either of those things. And that’s exactly what Heinali and Matt Finney’s new album, How We Lived, provides.

Matt Finney is a spoken word poet, and the Alabama-based storyteller speaks to the lost, betrayed, and forgotten. Finney articulates things we find hard to admit, let alone share. And, as I’ve said before, Finney is no stranger to demons; he is here, with his battered heart in hand, to underscore that life is a hard-fought battle sometimes.

I first encountered Finney via his collaborations with Ukrainian multi-instrumentalist Oleg Shpudeiko –– aka Heinali. Heinali and Finney’s recordings in the early 2010s were defined by dark prose swathed in often lush avant-garde electronics. The duo’s sprawling tracks featured a heavy, cinematic ambience framed by frequently gorgeous atmospherics, and with (highly recommended) releases like Ain’t No Right and Conjoined, Heinali and Finney drew fans from all quarters.

How We Lived is Heinali and Finney’s first collaboration since 2011. But Finney has worked with other artists over the years. His collaborations with prolific dutch musician Maurice de Jong (Gnaw Their Tongues, Seirom etc), under the It Only Gets Worse banner, are also dramatic and soul-stirring. But with due respect to de Jong, Finney’s work with Heinali set a benchmark that has yet to be bettered.

There’s a world-weary tale behind How We Lived’s creation, and it’s a story worth telling, because it shapes and informs the entire album. After Ain’t No Right’s release, Finney’s life began to fall apart, and following family illness, deaths, and a few creative catastrophes, Finney retreated to a backwoods trailer, where he ceased writing, and sought escape in drugs and alcohol.

It was partly the realisation that his work with Heinali had played such a crucial role in his creative life that Finney was able to slowly find his way back –– both artistically and personally. And How We Lived certainly highlights that tension between the drive to create and the desire to utterly destroy oneself.

How We Lived’s four lengthy songs feature some of most emotionally charged and powerfully affecting work that Heinali and Finney have ever produced. “Relationship Goals”, “Wilderness”, “October Light” and “Perfect Blue” deliver stunning (and often harrowing) narratives, which Heinali frames with evocative music. But here’s the difficult part.

At this point, I’d generally begin to unpack an album’s songs. I would slice ’em and dice ’em, and endeavour to describe their ingredients. But I’m not going to do that with How We Lived’s tracks.

That’s not because those songs aren’t worth the effort; as I said, How We Lived is Heinali and Finney’s most meaningful collaboration yet. But I don’t want to reveal the album’s specifics, because I want you to hear those songs free from my (or anyone’s) influence or interpretations.

In other words, How We Lived needs to be experienced, not explained.

I understand that might not be what you’re looking for here. That’s okay –– I’m sure dozens of other reviewers will pick apart How We Lived with due precision. I just think that it’s an intimate album that deserves to experienced as a whole, free from spoilers or prior dissection.

I will say this though: How We Lived is a haunting piece of art that evokes decaying landscapes –– both psychological and geographic. It delivers harsh truths, plumbed from suffering and bitterness, and cognizance arises from moments of anguish.

How We Lived reminds us that when life falls apart our minds and bodies don’t attack on a single front. They gnaw and they claw at us, insidiously. They tear into different anxieties, from entirely different angles. Until slowly, but surely, those emotional ramparts we’ve so carefully constructed begin to crumble.

Potential remedies are available, should you find yourself in that situation, and there are often opportunities to seek help along the way. I’d encourage you to take full advantage of both, if you’re feeling like your walls are collapsing. But How We Lived also exists as a means to shore up your defences.

I’m not so naive to suggest that listening to How We Lived is going save to your life. It’s not a miracle cure. But it’s certainly a crucial restorative. You will find solace in the album because it acknowledges (with brutal honesty) that life fucking hurts.

Sometimes, the shared admission of that fact is all we need to make it through another day. And there’s no question that How We Lived reaches out from the depths of despair to say: “I hear you. I understand”.

In doing so, How We Lived illustrates why listening to dark art created by troubled souls is so important to our own continued existence. The album resonates deeply, providing vital catharsis, and while it’s unquestionably bleak, it’s also beautifully grim.

How We Lived lets us know that we are not alone. It helps strengthen our resolve to fight on –– until we step out of darkness.

Misery has never sounded so uplifting. Or so emboldening.

Planning for Burial - Below the House

By Justin C. When I first saw the cover for Planning for Burial's new album, Below the House, I immediately said, "That's Pennsylvania." There was probably a brief spike in my blood pressure, maybe the beginnings of a fight-or-flight reaction. I'm probably no different than anyone who grew up in a place where they never felt they belonged and fled as soon as possible

By Justin C.


When I first saw the cover for Planning for Burial's new album, Below the House, I immediately said, "That's Pennsylvania." There was probably a brief spike in my blood pressure, maybe the beginnings of a fight-or-flight reaction. I'm probably no different than anyone who grew up in a place where they never felt they belonged and fled as soon as possible, but the muted color palette and sense of gloom conveyed by that cover art is how most of my childhood memories from Pennsylvania look. Thom Wasluck, the man behind Planning for Burial, moved back to his childhood home to record Below the House, and when asked in an interview at CLRVYNT what moving back to Pennsylvania was like, he said, "Pretty awful. [Laughs]" You can read that interview for more insight into what it was like moving back and recording there, but given that "gloom" finds its way into most genre descriptions of Planning for Burial's work, you'll quickly figure out where you are on the emotional spectrum without the background story.

For our purposes, this is probably more of a metal-adjacent(tm) album review, although it fits in well with The Flenser’s catalog. There's harshness here, and if you were to listen to the opener, "Whiskey and Wine," with its heavy, Jesu-like undercurrent and black metal-like vocals, you might go in expecting a more metal album than what you're actually going to get. Sure, the third track, "Somewhere in the Evening" comes back in with that molten bottom end, and there are some shrieks buried deep in the mix, but the clean vocals on top make this feel like a conflict between listlessness and rage instead of a full-on barn burner.

More than anything, this is often sparse, vulnerable music. "Threadbare" accurately describes the music it contains. The vocals are clean, the music is at times minimal and stark, although there's also a warmth to it, as hard as it may be to pick out at times. There's a bit more fire to Below the House than Planning for Burial's last album, Desideratum, but the heaviness comes from mood, not volume. "Dull Knife, Part 1" might sound like heavier shoegaze or slowcore, but "Part II" is a singular-minded, almost plodding tune that builds so subtly that you might not even notice. The plaintive, repeated line, "Call me back home / calling me back," is damn near heart-breaking, even when additional guest voices join Wasluck.

I found this album difficult to listen to, but not because of rapid-fire time changes or overwhelming dissonances. This music is difficult because it cuts to your core if you let it in, and it taxes you emotionally. As I mentioned up top, I think this album carries a little more weight for me because Wasluck and I share Pennsylvania as the setting of perhaps not the most fun times, but beauty can still come from that. As the only lyrics for "Dull Knife, Part I" say, "This is the place I live / But it's not my home / This is the place I live / My roots don't grow." Get into this gloom and let it change you, and maybe even free you.

Short and to the point 5

By Aaron Sullivan. Unless you’ve been living under a rock you may have noticed a huge influx of Black Metal bands out of Iceland recently. Bands like Svartidauði, Sinmara, Misþyrming, and Zhrine. But to be honest

By Aaron Sullivan.


Unless you’ve been living under a rock you may have noticed a huge influx of Black Metal bands out of Iceland recently. Bands like Svartidauði, Sinmara, Misþyrming, and Zhrine. But to be honest, none have really done much for me. With the exception of one, Ljáin. Jef Whitehead (Leviathan, Lurker of Chalice) posted them on his Instagram, and if he’s promoting them then who am I not to check it out. Glad I did.

The two albums are atmospheric and raw at the same time. Vocal deep in the mix adding the cacophony of it all. Shifting rhythms keeping things from getting stale. Reminds me of a less chaotic Skaphe (who is half Icelandic themselves). How these guys have not been signed yet is a mystery to me. So check them out before they are so you can say, “I knew them before they were signed to <label name here>”.

Artwork Daniel Obzejta

Out of my scene here in L.A. comes Wovoka and their album Saros. How would I describe this band you ask? Well imagine if you will Neurosis and YOB making sweet sweet love. Go on, do it. Good. Now the love child produced by that love making would undoubtedly be Wovoka. The atmosphere and vocals of Neurosis combined with the riffs and sheer towering tone of YOB. First time seeing them live was like being run over by a herd of slow moving elephants. Their sound fills your ears to maximum capacity. Glacial in movement and in weight.

From the windy city comes the artist J.R. Robinson. He is the mastermind behind the band Wrekmeister Harmonies. When it started it out the band was more of a collective. J.R. being the main guy and with each album bringing in a slew of artist from the Chicago scene and elsewhere. Names like Sanford Parker, Jef Whitehead, Bruce Lamont, Marissa Nadler, and many others. The songs, like on my favorite album of his You've Always Meant So Much to Me, were sprawling 30 minute plus slow burns of jammy rock ambience rising and rising until a giant crescendo. Combining elements of DOOM, and experimentation, post-rock, and drone. Like a darker Godspeed You! Black Emperor. He expanded upon this for the next two albums. But with his latest Light Falls, some things have changed.

For one he has a permanent band mate in the multi-instrumentalist Esther Shaw. Two, no more 30 minute plus songs. The album contains seven songs that are no doubt connected (as evidenced by the title track broken into three pieces) but can also stand alone. Having been fortunate to have seen him live several times I get the feeling it was these live shows that may have informed this albums shorter song lengths. They have a real live feel to them. But then what do I know. Maybe the man just needed a change. Either way this is still a worthy addition to an already great catalogue of music.

Wreck and Reference. A band that recently was listed in an article on Invisible Oranges titled, 10 of the Heaviest Modern Bands Without Guitars, I would agree. I first heard them on their second album Want. I was struck immediately. To be that heavy in mood, to be that aggressive vocally, drumming with such power, and while not a metal band, sure feeling like one.

Their evolving catalogue is well documented on this site. With their new album, Indifferent Rivers Romance End, the mood is still heavy but the music, not as much. Softer in tone perhaps but not in message. This album feels more open allowing the layers to be heard more. I know the word “mature” is sometimes seen as a bad word for some. But I think it describes this album well. They have honed their anger and depression. So instead of firing a shotgun that spreads their sadness anywhere and everywhere. They instead use a heat seeking missile to annihilate their intended target. Who ever that poor unfortunate person may be, even if it's pointed at the band themselves.

Last, but certainly not least, another band from my Los Angeles scene is Skyeater. Made up of former musicians of Crowhurst (they were on the self-titled album) and now going about it on their own. But don’t expect that type of Black Metal, this is atmospheric and ritualistic. They combine the atmosphere of Lluvia and the ritualistic feel of Merkaba. The drumming is top notch. The thing I dig the most is they have three vocalist with three distinctive vocal styles. One a guttural black metal style, another almost depressive suicidal, and the other black metal style with just a hint on hardcore style in it. Don’t think the rawness is only a result of this being a demo. It translates to the live sound also.

They are currently in the process of recording their full length at Earhammer Studios with Greg Wilkinson (Asunder, Lycus, Fórn) at the helm. To be released next year on Baneful Genesis Records.

Black Wing - .​.​.​Is Doomed

By Justin C. Welcome to another installment of my random series of Metal-Adjacent Reviews(tm). This time, I'm going to talk about Black Wing, an electronic solo project by Dan Barrett, the fellow behind the somewhat-more-metal Have a Nice Life. Both of these projects are out on The Flenser, hence the aforementioned metal adjacency.

By Justin C.


Welcome to another installment of my random series of Metal-Adjacent Reviews(tm). This time, I'm going to talk about Black Wing, an electronic solo project by Dan Barrett, the fellow behind the somewhat-more-metal Have a Nice Life. Both of these projects are out on The Flenser, hence the aforementioned metal adjacency.

I have pretty eclectic music tastes, but truth be told, I'd probably be tempted to skip over something categorized as a "depressive chillwave" album. But I got sucked in by the striking album artwork for Black Wing's "...Is Doomed", and the fact that The Flenser is handling this. No matter what they put out, it's bound to be interesting, and I'd have to categorize this album as well beyond "interesting". The style may be electronic, but its messy, beating heart is big enough to blot out the sun. There's a mathematical precision to the music, but there's also Dan Barrett's voice, be it solo, processed, or presented as a choir, adding an inescapable hook and emotional grounding.

I have to be honest at this point: The previously released track "My Body Betrayed Me" was a huge draw for me when getting into this album. Barrett has mentioned that he was suffering from some health problems while recording this. As part of the press material, he explained, "I was dripping a lot of blood all over the place. It was all very undramatic and fleshy and strange." As I'm writing this, I'm also going through a strange, often-maddening health crisis of sorts, and the heart-on-its-sleeve lyrics of this song hit me like an industrial-strength narcotic. Lines like, "I know I'm dead / but do I care? / I was barely there / and now, I'm less" take on extra weight when your body is throwing out all manner of strange test results and treatment-resistant pain. I think I would have loved this song anyway--it's direct, elegant, and powerful--but I definitely had a hole in my heart perfectly shaped to receive this song. (I wouldn't be surprised if I also had a hole burned in my hard drive from listening to this on repeat. And possibly a literal hole in my cardiac organ. I don't think the doctors have ruled that out yet).

That said, there's plenty to get into here even if you're strictly a metal person and/or not currently being betrayed by your body. The title track, as promised by the album title, is in fact dark and doomy, even if it's not in a Sabbath-y or Saint Vitus-y kind of way. The darkness is punctuated by a certain amount of melodic lightness, and that goes for most of the music on this album. It's melancholy, but there are moments of meditation, and perhaps even a sense of redemption. Or maybe it comes down to what I heard the great philosopher Chris Cornell say in an interview, explaining the appeal of dark music. I'm paraphrasing from memory, but he basically said, "You hear depressing music, realize you're not the only person who ever felt that way, and guess what? You feel a little better."

So do you need some music to put on in the car on a coming sunny, fall day, when you're just not sure how you feel about life and what it's offering you at the moment? Something that elevates you even if it's describing a messier, sadder reality? Dan Barrett's got you covered. Highly, highly recommended.

Mastery - Valis

By Justin C. Mastery's first full-length, Valis, doesn't offer an easy entry point. The very first track, "V.A.L.I.S.V.E.S.S.E.L.," opens with what sounds like the soundtrack to a malfunctioning, hellish carnival ride

By Justin C.


Mastery's first full-length, Valis, doesn't offer an easy entry point. The very first track, "V.A.L.I.S.V.E.S.S.E.L.," opens with what sounds like the soundtrack to a malfunctioning, hellish carnival ride, and after that follows over 17 minutes of delightfully batty, black metal madness. That's not 17 minutes for the whole album, mind you--that's 17 minutes for the first track alone. The lone artist behind Mastery, Ephemeral Domignostika, crams more riffs into this track than most bands have in their entire back catalog. It's breathtakingly weird, but perhaps the weirdest part is that it works.

The promo materials describe Valis as "free jazz black metal twisted and complex," and that's pretty apt. The full album takes you on a journey that appears to be at least in part improvisational. No verses and choruses here, just unrelenting riffage, accompanied by Domignostika's raspy croak. Lucky for us, the riffs themselves are just so damn good. The promo also mentions "unique fingerstyle playing." As a guitarist, I can think of a few things that might mean, technique-wise, but whatever Domignostika is doing, the end result is a fiery playing style that remains remarkably clean sounding in execution.

I think a lot of people, at first listen, will find this music to be off-putting and hard to follow, but I honestly think there's an underlying narrative and structure here that pulls the listener along, even if I'd be hard pressed to articulate it. I do know that, even during the 17 minutes of brutality of that first track, I never once thought, "Where is this going?" Somehow the journey makes sense, even though there's very little in the way of conventional song structure to hang your hat on. Even when the first track abruptly breaks into a lovely acoustic jam at the six-minute mark, accompanied by quiet drumming that sounds like a far-off locomotive--with nothing really like it appearing again on the album--it somehow fits in.

The second and fourth tracks are much shorter than the others, and they mostly feature quiet ambient and electronic sounds. Never have two interludes been so well planned and placed. Breathing room is a must on this album, as the third and fifth tracks of the album are just as perplexing and unrelenting as the first. Interestingly, they both share the first track's density while having their own subtle, interesting character. The third track, "L.O.R.E.S.E.E.K.E.R.," has roughly the same density of restless riffing as the first, but the riffs are less crunchy and growling than the first track. They're generally higher in pitch and a bit more gossamer, if using the word "gossamer" even makes sense for an album as brutal as this. This is a simplistic differentiation, at best, but I think attentive listeners will hear the subtle difference in texture. Domignostika manages the same feat with the album closer, "S.T.A.R.S.E.E.K.E.R.," where the riffs are at their most jagged and twisty. There's even an occasional staccato passage, letting a little air into the wall of sound that's permeated the album so far.

It's possible I was personally more susceptible to this album's charms because of my love of avant garde and free jazz, but I think there's a lot for adventurous metal listeners to dig here. I once heard a quote about how some music teaches you how to listen to it. I kept coming back to that idea with Valis. I'm not sure if the music taught me how to listen to it, of if it just dragged my brain into a dark alley and made me follow along by knife point, but either way, this is a striking piece of art. Iggy Pop once described jazz legend John Coltrane's sound as one that was "hard to get close to." That definitely applies here, but like Coltrane, I think it's worth the effort to get close to Mastery.

The Flenser Part Two: Have a Nice Life, White Suns & Planning for Burial

By Craig Hayes. In the first part of this Flenser Records feature, I looked at recent releases from avant-garde black metal band Mamaleek, and harbingers of electronic doom, Wreck and Reference. Both of those bands are based in California, and both are duos, but those aren't the only commonalities between the two bands. Mamaleek and Wreck and Reference also blend a lot of influences from

By Craig Hayes.


In the first part of this Flenser Records feature, I looked at recent releases from avant-garde black metal band Mamaleek, and harbingers of electronic doom, Wreck and Reference. Both of those bands are based in California, and both are duos, but those aren't the only commonalities between the two bands. Mamaleek and Wreck and Reference also blend a lot of influences from well outside metal’s usual sphere of interests into their sound, and while the two bands are sonically dissimilar, they both take a similarly experimental approach in their songwriting.

In doing that, Mamaleek and Wreck and Reference both make innovative music, but they both also feature plenty of core metal references in their sound as well. Flenser also releases works by bands that don’t reference metal as directly, yet those bands are still making music that contains a lot of elements that would appeal to fans of dark rock and metal. There’s been three albums added to Flenser’s Bandcamp page of late that fall into that category, so let’s take a look at that trio of releases, and their creators.


Every band wants to make a good impression on debut, but when Have A Nice Life released their first full-length, Deathconsciousness, back in 2008, they delivered an outright underground classic. The band’s founding members, Dan Barrett and Tim Macuga, crafted a sprawling double album, where shoegaze, industrial rock, indie pop, and traces of metal were all twisted around the heavy presence of post-punk. Deathconsciousness’ reputation has only increased since its release, so six years later, Have A Nice Life’s second full-length album, The Unnatural World, has a lot to live up to.

Thankfully, Have A Nice Life have come up with an album that is just as rewarding as Deathconsciousness. The Unnatural World takes the band’s post-punk core, and adds in a heavier dose of death-and-gothic-rock, while the presence of murky shoegaze and industrial noise is still keenly felt. For any metalhead seeking music that is meditative and mysterious, the counterpointing of gorgeousness and grimness found on The Unnatural World is bound to be attractive. Certainly, The Unnatural World is as emotionally heavy as any release from the realms of doom or sludge metal, and with waves of fuzz, reverb, feedback, and distortion spilling from walls of guitar, there’s abundant crossover appeal lurking in the album’s depths.

Dark dirges off The Unnatural World, such as “Guggenheim Wax Museum”, “Burial Society” and the bass-heavy blast of “Defenestration Song”, see ice-cold vocals thread through despairing atmospheres – bringing all that wintery '80s post-punk chill. However, along with that, much of The Unnatural World finds that aforementioned shoegaze arising from shadowy drone too. There’s static and thunder on the album as well – particularly on “Cropsey”, where industrial beats erupt into blown-out percussion – and throughout The Unnatural World, as songs tumble through the aether, the ceaseless presence of distortion and echo means everything rides on a crest of dissolving into chaotic noise.

That brings tension to tracks like “Unholy” and “Emptiness Will Eat The Witch”, undercutting their grace with the presence of something unnerving and malevolent at work. That’s exactly what makes The Unnatural World such an enthralling album overall. It’s an undeniably haunting and hypnotic release, with plenty of passages to sink into, but there’s an ever-present sense of something waiting just out of view. Something biding its time, until its decided it’s the perfect moment to crush our hopes, and shatter our dreams.




You'd be hard pressed to come up with any clear set of descriptors to capture the mayhem found on White Sun’s latest album, Totem. You'll find large doses of some kind of post-hardcore, avant-jazz, and noise rock hybridisation lurking on tracks like “Priest In The Laboratory”, “Clairvoyant” and “Disjecta Membra”. However, forget any semblance of actual structure. I mean, there’s ear-piercing guitar and concussive percussion aplenty – and tracks like “Cathexis” and “World Lock” are pretty much heaven for fans of demented guitar abuse – but everything is ground up and spat out via some glorious no-wave head-fuckery.

“Fossil Record” takes a more ambient or synthesized route, and Totem’s last track, “Carrion”, isn't so much music, as just some kind of poetic final punishment. Really, overall, Totem is just ill-natured and utterly unfathomable. White Sun’s clearly aren't interested in catering to any comfort zones, but just see if you don't hit repeat straight away after Totem finishes. Music this bizarre and defiant demands repeated listens – if only to try and make sense of why it’s so damn enjoyable. For those who claim to be very open minded, Totem is still bound to be a head-scratching challenge. Still, I’d take that over safe and anodyne music any day of the week.




Thom Wasluck’s solo project, Planning for Burial, has a lengthy discography of splits, EPs, and cassettes to be found on Bandcamp, and Desideratum, the band’s second full-length recording, is the band’s debut for Flenser. Planning for Burial takes doom and post-metal and runs that through a melancholic slowcore filter – resulting in the kinds of ambient and gothic drone that would appeal to fans of Jesu or Nadja. Tracks off Desideratum, like “Where you Rest your Head at Night” and “29 August 2012”, bring waves of minimalist, feedbacking gloom. Yet, like all of Planning for Burial’s work, heavenliness plays just as an important role as heaviness.

The connection between lost love and an aching for physical contact saturates Desideratum, and there’s no finer example of that being rendered into musical form than on the album’s final track, the 16-minute “Golden”. Cold washes of guitar begin the song, but halfway through, all the droning feedback, synth, and death-march percussion takes on a brighter hue. For sure, “Golden” remains utterly heartbreaking, but, like the best mournful musical experiences, there comes a point where utter bliss arises from misery. There's a lot of ecstasy to be found in the fragility of Desideratum; that solace that always comes from sharing the beauty and emotional rawness of despair.



The Flenser Part One: Mamaleek & Wreck and Reference.

The Flenser Part One: Mamaleek & Wreck and Reference.

By Craig Hayes. We’ve all watched an underground record label get off to a great start, only to then take a huge misstep, and buy into the hype surrounding their own success. Soon enough, that label is releasing a steady stream of sub-par albums, just to keep up the pace, and all too quickly

By Craig Hayes.


We’ve all watched an underground record label get off to a great start, only to then take a huge misstep, and buy into the hype surrounding their own success. Soon enough, that label is releasing a steady stream of sub-par albums, just to keep up the pace, and all too quickly, the trust we'd had in them to separate the wheat from the chaff on our behalf is destroyed.

Thankfully, on the other side of the coin, we have labels like Flenser Records to remind us that a rising profile doesn't have to mean any diminishing returns. Over the past five years, the highly respected San Francisco label has released a long line of riveting albums, including unquestionable classics, like Panopticon’s Social Disservices, crucial early releases, like Lycus’ Demo MMXI, or genre-shattering releases, like Botanist’s IV: Mandragora.

Flenser has always released compelling music, and it’s worth pointing out, those releases come stamped with integrity and ingenuity too. Many of the artists who've recorded for Flenser have experimented with cross-genre hybridisation, and while many have tapped into similarly gloomy and gothic atmospheres along the way, they've all had distinct artistic visions. That’s meant that Flenser is famed for hosting bands that often ignore the boundaries of their respective sub-genres, thereby challenging traditional notions of what metal is supposed to be.

Certainly, some of the bands that feature on Flenser’s roster wouldn’t identify as metal at all, but for open-minded fan of dark music, there’s a lot that’ll resonate in those bands sonic and emotional heaviness. Groups like Bosse-De-Nage, Skagos, Circle of Eyes, Palace of Worms, and many more, have ensured that Flenser has become a reliable and – here’s that all-important word again – trusted source of imaginative music. There’s been a number of engrossing additions to the label’s Bandcamp page over the past couple of months, and in this two-part Flenser feature, I'm going to take a look at recent releases from Mamaleek, Wreck and Reference, Have A Nice Life, White Suns, and Planning For Burial.


Details about experimental black metal band Mamaleek are scarce, but what we do know is that the band is made up of two brothers, who wish to remain anonymous, and they’ve recorded their past releases in San Francisco and Beirut. Anonymity suits the band well, because, like Sutekh Hexen or Wold (both masters of tenebrous noise), Mamaleek's sound also features as much mayhem as it does mystery.

Mamaleek’s latest release, He Never Spoke a Mumblin' Word, sees swarming avant-garde black metal collide with jagged industrial rhythms. Samples, effects and demented vocals rise from squalls of hallucinatory noise on the title track, and Mamaleek conjures chaotic nightmares on “My Ship is on the Ocean” and “Almost Done Tolling Here” too. All of those tracks contain plenty of madness and menace, and when “Pour Mourner’s Got a Home” sets off at a more ambient pace, opening with mournful female vocals, Mamaleek’s crooked melodies soon turn that song into a thoroughly disturbing ordeal as well.

He Never Said a Mumblin’ Word was recorded by the band, and is about as caustic as you can get. The production is the kind that'll strip skin from your bones, but its been mixed and mastered by Jack Shirley (Deafheaven, Botanist, Wreck and Reference), so, for all of He Never Said a Mumblin’ Word’s corrosiveness – and everything here is über-distorted and packed with venom – it still sounds fantastic, and makes for a magnificently mind-melting experience overall.

He Never Said a Mumblin’ Word isn't the only album from Mamaleek to be supremely discomforting either. Mamaleek’s three previous full-lengths (all available on the band’s own Bandcamp page) are well worth seeking out. Each takes elements of drone, psychedelia, world music, shoegaze, electronica, and math and indie rock, and drowns them in storms of pitch-black, fuzz-enshrouded static. Mamaleek deserve a lot more attention for their ability to take those eclectic influences, slather them in monstrous eccentricity, and create mesmerising experimental black metal. He Never Said a Mumblin’ Word comes highly recommended. Although, perhaps not for those of a nervous disposition.




Flenser is known as a label that supports artists interested in reconstructing metal’s motifs. With releases from bands like Botanist and Bosse-De-Nage on the label’s books, trampling conventionality is definitely welcomed by the label, and no more is that apparent that on the Flenser's releases from Californian duo Wreck and Reference.

Wreck and Reference discards guitars and bass for electronics and death march drums, but don’t let that fool you into thinking that the band lack any devastating power. Wreck and Reference take darkwave and gothic, industrial, and noise rock, fuse that with facets of bleak and quarrelsome metal, and create nerve-shredding synthscapes. By any reckoning, Wreck and Reference’s music is emotionally devastating, bringing as much despondency as any funeral doom, and on the band’s latest album, Want, Wreck and Reference continue the same fearless journeying into the desolate realms exhibited on previous releases, No Content, and No Youth.

Tracks off Want, like “Corpse Museum”, “Apollo Beneath The Whip”, and “Stranger, Fill This Hole In Me”, bring as much unconventionality as they do nonconformity; seeing anguished vocals wound around heavy-weight frequencies, all layering on the tortured atmospherics. The ease with which Wreck and Reference bring suffering to the surface is impressive, and within seconds of pressing play on Want things are utterly bleak. However, as much as there’s a lot to admire in Wreck and Reference’s balance of technical prowess and dramatic lyricism, the band’s willingness to experiment is just as praiseworthy.

Like all of Wreck and Reference’s previous releases, Want defies genre restrictions. The band are following their own path, into the void, but much like fellow sonic explorers Locrian, Wreck and Reference aren’t just daring listeners to accompany them on journeys across apocalyptic terrain. The band is also demanding that those very same listeners question what metal is, or could be. In that sense, Wreck and Reference are unquestionably confronting. Exactly how all truly innovative bands should be.



The Flenser Part Two: Have A Nice Life, White Suns & Planning For Burial.

Botanist - VI: Flora

By Justin C. Way back when I was in high school, I saw a TV ad selling the promise of microtonal music**. Of course, they were selling that "promise" in the form of crap you could buy, like books, cassettes, and probably even vinyl. A bearded, professorial man explained

By Justin C.


Way back when I was in high school, I saw a TV ad selling the promise of microtonal music**. Of course, they were selling that "promise" in the form of crap you could buy, like books, cassettes, and probably even vinyl. A bearded, professorial man explained that music based on the 12-tone scale was "dead" because everything that could be composed had already been done, and if you wanted to be cool and interesting, you needed to start using microtones ASAP. This was clearly an idiotic way of looking at things. Microtonal music is a fascinating and worthy endeavor, but judging the potential of all future music solely on the number of notes available to you is like deciding there's no reason to paint anymore because we've already seen all the possible color combinations a person can use.

For me, Botanist is a prime example of why Beardy McMicrotones was so off base. Botanist mastermind Otrebor has taken an instrument not well known outside of folk--the hammered dulcimer--and has created five full-lengths and a split of compelling music that falls in, around, and beyond black metal. For me, the genius in this remains that no matter how outside of the musical mainstream Otrebor is working, his songs are still held down by rock-solid composition and melody.

So has Otrebor run out of ideas on VI: Flora? Hardly. In an interesting twist, the vocals have been pushed very deep into the mix, but instrumentally, Flora finds Botanist sounding equal parts bombastic and melancholy. Album opener "Stargazer" has a majestic sweep to it, almost as if heralding the arrival of a hero king, before ending with a delicate, piano-like outro. Botanist continues to play the percussion/stringed instrument duality of his instrument in the next track, "Callistemon," making sounds that more closely mimic the chiming guitar of alt rock. "Cinnamomum Parthenoxylon" and "Gleditsia" both pit grinding, eerie dissonance against slow-moving melodies and furious drumming. After a whirlwind of an album, "...Gazing..." offers a barely-there reprise of the album opener's melody, full of both devastation and relief.

I could go on and on from my notes on these tracks--my descriptions are sprinkled with words like "jagged," "symphonic," and "gossamer," which give a pretty good idea of the range of musical ideas in this work. It's possible that I've become a hopeless Botanist fanboy at this point, but there aren't a lot of artists who have held my interest so thoroughly through six (and counting) releases. Maybe it's the music nerd in me that's hooked by this multi-album concept work, or the fact that a tale of a coming post apocalypse fits so well with the kinds of books and movies I enjoy, but maybe it all boils down to a unique musical vision that remains fascinating and completely uncompromised.

[Go to the post to view the Bandcamp player]

**For those not familiar, microtonal music is based on any one of many scales that differ from the standard, 12-tone scale most Western music listeners are used to. Put very simply, you're using the notes between the notes. My first exposures to microtonal music provoked a visceral dislike, as it can sound very out-of-tune and chaotic, but microtonal music can range from the delicate and surprisingly accessible to the brain-bending, ear-drum-punching variety.

Loss of Self - Twelve Minutes

Just in 2013 alone, we've seen a lot of different flavors of black metal. There's the Indian influences in Dressed in Streams, the orchestral works of So Hideous, and the woodsy hammered dulcimer of Botanist, just to name a few. What else could be left? Well, how about pop black metal?

By Justin C.


Just in 2013 alone, we've seen a lot of different flavors of black metal. There's the Indian influences in Dressed in Streams, the orchestral works of So Hideous, and the woodsy hammered dulcimer of Botanist, just to name a few. What else could be left? Well, how about pop black metal? I don't know if that's the best description of Loss of Self's new full-length, Twelve Minutes, but it's the phrase I keep coming back to. It may all sound a bit nutty, but just hang in there--you're going to see some very un-black metal adjectives used in this review.

The opening track, "Paradise Overgrown," is a strange, twisty affair, and although it's a great song, it's both a good and bad introduction to the rest of the album. You'll hear some of the elements that are common to the rest of the record--raspy black metal vocals, jangling guitar lines, and what could almost be described as "relaxed" blast beats. The song hangs just on the edge of chaos, but what comes up in the next track, "Isolt," is even stranger. The guitar riff could easily be from a guitar-pop or indie song, and check out that ascending, melodic bass line. Does it sound...happy? What kind of major-key madness is this? Granted, even with these poppier sounds, we're not hearing some kind of bubblegum black metal. The riffs sound like they started out more or less happy in life, born into an introspective rock songs, but they've spent some time on the bad side of town, drinking and getting into trouble. Deep down, they're the same riffs they were born as, but behind the smiles and preppy clothes, there's something dark and sinister about them.

This vibe runs throughout the album. I'd even call the bass downright bouncy in some tracks. But understand that I don't use words like "bouncy" or "happy" as criticism--like some of the strangest metal I love, this mash-up of sounds adds a surprising freshness and uniqueness. And this is still black metal (even if some might argue that point), so there's plenty of menace on tap. "The Free Intelligence" has a grumbling, sludgy guitar riff set in opposition to the jaunty bass line, and of course, those vocals are as harsh as anyone could want. The more I listen to this album, the more I hear, even though most of the songs are fairly short--none of them even breaks the four-minute mark.

I suspect that some people will find the contrasting elements a bit too much to take, and I can understand that, but I think this is an album that rewards an open-mind and repeat listens.

[Go to the post to view the Bandcamp player]

Botanist - IV: Mandragora

Review by Justin C.

Art by M.S. Waldron

For those who may still be unfamiliar with the strange, black metal phenomenon that is Botanist, here's the short course: Botanist is a one-man black metal band, and the two primary instruments are drums and hammered dulcimer--think of removing the soundboard from a piano so you can strike the strings directly with mallets, like a xylophone. The albums--four so far--are all about The Botanist, a man who really loves his plants but doesn't care too much for humans. They lyrics tell of his hopes and dreams for the destruction of the human race, leaving only plant life behind.

Botanist's fourth album, Mandragora, finds The Botanist raising an army of mandrakes, which in legend are humanoid plants with screams that can drive people mad or kill them outright. The track listing reads like an instruction manual for creating a human-destroying horde, with titles like "To Amass an Army," "Nourishing the Fetus," and "Mandrake Legion." Creating mandrakes is a fairly ghastly process that starts with hanging humans in trees, but I'll leave it to the reader to learn the rest of the details from the lyrics. The misanthropy in the music is pretty standard fare for black metal, but the context is certainly unique.

The menace in the music itself is ratcheted up a bit from the previous recordings. The dulcimer is distorted for the first time, making it sound like some kind of evil harpsichord. Check out the sinister bass line--another Botanist first--in the second track, "Nightshade," or when the vocals rise from the usual low croak to a pained scream in "Nourishing the Fetus." None of these bits are particularly wild deviations from the previous albums, but given the self-imposed limitations on the instrumentation, even the slightest changes can seem monumental.

What has impressed me most with the progression of these albums is the quality of the songcraft. I hesitate to use the phrase "novelty act" because of its negative connotations, but when your main melodic instrument is as unusual in metal as a hammered dulcimer, you can't create four albums worth of material--certainly not material that's worth listening to--without solid songwriting. The melodies on the previous album, Doom in Bloom, are haunting and lovely, and Botanist has kept that up on Mandragora. The song "To Amass an Army" could almost be a ballad, were it not about trying to destroy all of humanity with ambulatory plant monsters.

If the first three albums weren't your cup of tea, it's unlikely that Mandragora will convert you. But, if you haven't bothered with the previous releases because the whole thing sounds like a bit too much to take, I'd urge you to dip into "Doom in Bloom" or Mandragora and reconsider your opinion. I've read that the man behind Botanist may have as many as five more albums in the works for the series, making this potentially one of the strangest and most epic musical arcs in any kind of pop music.

[Go to the post to view the Bandcamp player]

Grayceon - Pearl and the End of Days

Art by David D’Andrea

Grayceon's new EP Pearl and the End of Days is a lesson in a making a good thing better. Known for their unique brand of cello driven progressive metal, their last full-length All We Destroy was filled with long, heavy and ponderous tracks. After the intro, you immediately notice that the first song Pearl is faster and rockier, in fact it is goddamn catchy. The same goes for the progressive epic End of Days; the dirgey parts, an integral part of All We Destroy, are here mostly kept to song intros. This is an album made with a lighter heart.

Photos by Taylor Keahey

Another notable difference is that the three instruments of Grayceon are on more equal footing here. Zack Farwell's guitars are heavier, and with a much beefier sound. Max Doyle delivers one wicked drumm fill after another. The cello of Jackie Perez Gratz no longer leads as much, this is true trio music. There's so much playing; the ultimate example would be the last part of End of Days. Listen to 14:15 onwards, and rejoice at the musical skills on display.

Photos by Taylor Keahey

Jackie Perez Gratz' smoky voice is often harmonized to great effect, her harsh vocals are utilized less than on previous albums. Let me close by saying that Grayceon has made an EP filled with emotion, musicianship, and dynamic songwriting. You don't get to say this often about something metal related, but Pearl and the End of Days is just plain lovely.

Obolus - Lament

Art by Bryan Proteau.

Obolus - Lament has been released as a free download on the Flenser Records Bandcamp. Free because the Flenser want more people to know about Obolus and giving away the bands new release seemed like the best way to accomplish this.

This is a 20 minutes atmospheric black metal journey. Haunting shrieks buried by screaming guitars and blasting drums, interspersed with slower depressive interludes. Lament delivers on the promises Obolus made with their Demo, which was reviewed by Cvlt Nation and Don't Count on it Reviews.

[Go to the post to view the Bandcamp player]

Brian Proteau also did the fantastic artwork for both the original and the remastered version of Lycus - Demo 2011.

Update: The Obolus Demo has just been released on cassette, available for pre-order here and also featuring artwork by Brian Proteau.

Wreck and Reference - Black Cassette (Remastered)

A remastered version of Wreck and Reference's Black Cassette was added to the Flenser Records Bandcamp. This is experimental doom/noise rock, done without guitars, they use keyboards, synths, samples, and excellent drumming to provide the heavy sounds. The vocals and the almost "poppy" feel of some of the tracks makes it sound kind of like The Cure playing doom. Here are two reviews from Don't Count on it Reviews and Invisible Oranges and an interview from Cvlt Nation.

[Go to the post to view the Bandcamp player]

The original (non-remastered) version of Black Cassette is available from Wreck and Reference's own Bandcamp

Kólga - Demo

Kólga's Demo is a new release on the Flenser Records Bandcamp. The band features Austin Lunn from Seidr and Panopticon and you could say that Kólga places itself somewhere in between those two bands. Atmospheric and doomy black metal.

[Go to the post to view the Bandcamp player]

Lycus - Demo MMXI (Remastered)

Artwork by Bryan Proteau

Lycus demo was heralded as one of the best doom albums of 2011. Check out Kim Kelly's list here and my own from No Clean Singing, where I wrote a few lines about my favorite track on the demo, "Aghast":

"Mournful choral vocal lines accompany the traditional death metal vocals and crashing riffs. And that fantastic fast section as the track goes from stately to pummeling. Cathartic."

In preparation for an upcoming vinyl release, Flenser Records has added the remastered demo to their Bandcamp as a free download, including new artwork by Bryan Proteau.

[Go to the post to view the Bandcamp player]

Seidr - For Winter Fire

A favorite from the Flenser Bandcamp, Seidr's For Winter Fire is blackened doom. Some of the heaviest shit you've heard (the guitar tone is simply crushing) coupled with passages that are just lovely. Including a full-on acoustic ballad. Check out the reviews from Metal Review, Invisible Oranges and Don' Count on it Reviews who calls it ritualistic doom metal, ... hypnotic, heavy, adventurous, and memorable.

[Go to the post to view the Bandcamp player]

Panopticon - Social Disservices

Social Disservices, the new album by Panopticon was released on the Flenser Records Bandcamp. Musically it is vicious black metal, tempered with melodic post-rock influenced climaxes. Lyrically it is an aggressive and personal album as both the album title and the song titles ("Resident", "Client", "Subject", "Patient") suggests.

The last song "Patient" is a regular black metal symphony (not to be confused with symphonic black metal!) featuring some amazing drumming. Read more about the album in these reviews from Cvlt Nation and Don't Count on it Reviews.

[Go to the post to view the Bandcamp player]

Bosse-de-Nage - II

The Flenser has added the second album by Bosse-de-Nage to their Bandcamp. This is black metal with just a of hint post-rock and some quite surrealistic lyrics. Check out two great reviews from Last Rites and Lurkers Path.

Bosse-de-Nage wins the Metal Bandcamp best song title award for "Why Am I So Lovely? Because My Master Washes Me".

[Go to the post to view the Bandcamp player]