Introducing the most anticipated Black Metal release of the millennium. Imprisoned for murdering Mayhem guitarist Euronymous, Varg “Count Grishnackh” Vikernes is now free to take his infamous musical legacy to magnificent new heights. With a back catalogue widely regarded as the best albums in Black Metal, Belus proves that Varg’s talents as a songwriter never faded after all these years.

As for the controversy, it’s best to treat Burzum and Varg’s crimes and writings as separate. He himself assured that the band stands only for music and not the right-wing extremism of his published views. A recent interview states, “if those who are not like me are able to enjoy my music that is all fine by me. Be a Christian-born black gay feminist converted to Judaism for all I care, or worse, a Muslim. Just stay off my lawn.”

Belus is an all-Norwegian concept album centered on its eponymous solar deity, whose familiar manifestations include Baldr and Apollo. The introductory track “Leukes Renkespill” chimes in with the hammer and anvil of the Loki, a.k.a. Hephaistos, stressing the common ancestry of Indo-European mythologies.

The first real song, “Belus’ Død,” is a sinister march into the past, right back to early 90’s Norway. In fact it would fit perfectly on his second album Det Som Engang Var, though with tremolo harmonies that bring Filosofem to mind. On the one hand this is classic Burzum, with simple drumbeats and signature melodies. On the other hand, it’s immediately evident that Varg’s prowess as a guitarist has not only survived prison, but has also taken a quantum leap.

Vocal-wise, Varg’s still got it, though his trademark screams have matured into an echoing shriek that suits the warmer, but still raw-as-hell production—likely due to the use of digital and no longer analog equipment. At parts, he seems in dialogue with himself with clean-sung chants and an incredibly effective use of spoken word verses, which often introduce new themes within songs. For example, “Kaimadalthas’ Nedstigning” oscillates between an angry blast-beat riff and a chanted refrain before launching into perhaps the most majestic moment on the album, where Varg’s guitar work shines brightest.

“Glemselens Elv” may be the most beautiful Burzum song ever written, with a melody guaranteed to make you sway to and fro in a meditative trance. All the while tremolo riffs float above the rhythm in perfect harmony. It clocks in at eleven minutes, one for every year since we’ve gotten a release from this stellar songwriter.

This mastery should be noted in the album’s perfect structure, which with each song increases the tempo, peaks at “Sverddans” (featuring an old school guitar solo), then decreases till by the final song the drums have simply melted away.

A key feature of the early 90’s albums was the presence of ambient tracks, here absent. This is well forgiven by the fact that his prison term gave us two full electronic albums in the form of Dauði Baldrs and Hliðskjálf.

In short, this is not your typical comeback album. This is the product of a decade-and-a-half of refinement and meditation, and we all knew it would come one day. So here it is, a landmark release that should set the standard for extreme metal in the new decade.

For those who dont spend too much time on the Internet, Knowledgethirst is directly inspired by Powerthirst, a supercharged energy drink franchise as presented by two monumental feats of advertisement two years ago. It is mandatory that you watch these two videos lest you be lost to Knowledgethirst’s poetic charm:

Powerthirst 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qRuNxH…
Powerthirst 2 – Re-Domination:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-3qnc…

Script and narration by Jeremy Swist. Produced and designed by Zev Eisenberg.

What happens when you watch too many nerdy movies? What happens when you spend too many hours in the Collaborative Media Lab? What happens when the majority of bands in the state of Maine produce God-awful music?

For three UMaine students, you form a band called Robocop. Then you pack a plenitude of creative energy into twelve minutes of madness. Powerviolence is the name of the game: abnormally fast, hardcore blasting combined with groovy riffs of the metal variety. Some call it thrashcore. Yet reflecting guitarist Ryan Page’s approach to music, “to add something that makes it better,” Robocop toss in a sinister dosage of doom.

This is the same Ryan Page who made this paper last semester with his solo project, Body Hammer. His dedication to the guitar and devoted study of experimental music composition in new media help Robocop stand out. He skillfully combines his passion for innovation with homage to bands like Napalm Death and Municipal Waste. Luke Abbott, another stand-up New Media major, proves his skill on the bass to add just as much depth of artistry as of sound. The experimental doom influences of his solo band GiantGiant introduce the record with foreboding force. Tom Bennett’s lightning speed as a drummer matches his technical prowess as a jazz percussionist. All three members shout, growl and scream satire of our silly society.

Right away, Robocop get their point across and take no prisoners. One close listen will tell you these aren’t just a bunch of angry kids wrecking their instruments for its own sake — they know their stuff. Each song combines engaging riffs with irresistibly head-bangable drumming. Thrash metal fans take note. Bursts of speed and groovy chord progressions are book-ended by two trance-inducing doom tracks, the latter drenched in guitar effects.

The demo on its own is fun in small doses, but for those with longer attention spans, I wouldn’t call it a soundtrack to a rainy afternoon. Robocop is a band meant to play live, as the production aims to advertise. It’s merely a lure to see these guys in real life, and boy do they put on a show. Their recent performance at Jester’s in Brewer filled a small space, and a small crowd, with much enthusiasm. They even smashed a guitar on stage just to make an ambiguous political statement.

This short demo is hopefully a taste of what’s to come and surely worth a listen. Download it free from their Web site (robocop.me) or ask for a copy from a band member in nothing other than a brown paper bag. Got to love the underground. Just be warned that Powerviolence isn’t for everybody; if everyone loved Powerviolence, bands like Robocop would lose their purpose, namely, hating on local bands that are more popular than good.

So what does this band have to do with “Robocop” the movie? Absolutely nothing. The band’s moniker has everything to do with the expectation of what only a gaggle of intelligent musicians can create.

What’s this, bass solos? In MY Black Metal? Is this the Marduk we know and love? That depends on your relationship with this infamous Swedish syndicate.

The familiar Marduk earned their reputation with 1999’s Panzer Division Marduk, a half hour of constant blast-beat drumming and guitar riffs like a blizzard of daggers. Coupled with this extreme take on the genre, smacked with the pejorative of “Norsecore,” was the band’s lyrical fascination with World War II. The false reputation of Nazi sympathy was likely influential on the visas denied them for US tours.

So what has become of Marduk in the past decade? 2004’s Plague Angel was the perfection of the formula, with superior production and the vocal virtuosity of Mortuus. The result was a relentless storm of hellfire, never again recaptured. Why? They gave into criticism, and 2007’s Romans 5:12 saw a forced attempt at progression: more emotional melodies, clean vocals, and slower tempos. But as Daniel Dennett said, true evolution produces “competence without comprehension.” Change cannot be forced, it must occur naturally.

With Wormwood, Marduk starts over, closer to the merciless fury of Plague Angel, but at the same time more dynamic and mature. Whereas prior experiments separated standard all-blasting songs and slower, groovier songs, tracks on this album have more transitions within the songs. This allows the intensity to be more consistently sustained, producing a more flowing, cohesive narrative.

Mortuus, as his name suggests, is the voice of death, one of the best in the genre. His vitriolic vocals range from throat-ripping shrieks, to guttural growls, to yells of malefic triumph. His variegated performance fits well the band’s departure from being a one-trick-demon-pony. The riffs, cleverly crafted as always, now sport the alliance of engaging drum rhythms just as much as the ruthless blast-beat attacks, in which this band is often accused of overindulging. All these elements combine most perfectly on the track “Into Utter Madness,” a malevolent onslaught both catchy and complex.

As my initial perplexity implies, the bass guitar on this album enjoys much more prominence than on your typical Black Metal opus. Its place in the production offers a fuller, deeper sound absent from the thinner, icier works of the past. On the other hand, this incites more claustrophobia than the cavernous Romans 5:12. The handful of bass solos, such as what ends the opening track, glimpse the more emotional side of Marduk, unveiling the undercurrent of sorrow beneath this aural vortex of violence.

Lyrically, the band has backed away from tanks and concentration camps, to the safer territory of death and blasphemy. The controversy was key to their identity, but if this is the price of letting these guys tour the US, I’ll take it.

So how does Wormwood measure up? On the one hand, it’s a marked improvement over the forced evolution of the previous album. Sadly, the spirit of that Black Metal blitzkrieg called Plague Angel could not be harnessed again. Still, through blood and iron, Marduk have sealed their status among the signature acts of Scandinavian Extreme Metal.

Imagine yourself slowly transforming, losing your humanity to a cancer of scrap metal consuming your body from within. Imminent terror grips your mechanizing limbs. A fetishistic maniac is turning you against your loved ones, then against yourself, and finally, against mankind.

Now set that nightmare to music and Jigoku is a frighteningly close approximation. UMaine’s own Ryan Page, inspired by the 1989 film Testuo: The Iron Man, interprets this experience beyond the bounds of musical orthodoxy, crafting a truly unique opus of terror.

For those out of the loop, Tetsuo is a cyberpunk horror-fantasy by Japanese director Shinya Tsukamoto. Filmed in black-and-white, this disturbing achievement of cinematography soon earned cult status. Body Hammer doesn’t necessarily rewrite the soundtrack to this movie—the late-80’s industrial rock score was appropriate enough. Rather Jigoku translates its themes into a musical journey into an abyss of madness, despair, and nihilistic rage.

Before even opening the package, Jigoku‘s cover art conveys the essence of the Tetsuo concept: the hideous fusion of man and machine envisioned in the art of H. R. Giger. Witness a dark future: the obsolescence of humankind to technology. Think of the mental anguish of being the only remaining biological entity in a matrix of metal.

Musically, this boils down to cybergrind in counterpoint to dark ambient industrial—a mouthful, I know. Body Hammer doesn’t fall into pigeonholes. Rather, we have an amalgam of influences. On the one hand, we get grindcore: extremely short bursts of insanely fast drumming, riffing, and hardcore vocals. “The Bystander Effect” and “Blue Eyed Assassin” strike like lightning from the brooding storm cloud that is this album. Nor is this cookie-cutter grindcore. Metal is a key element in the riffing, especially on tracks like “29 Second Stairway.”

On the other hand, we have a prevailing ambient element, with atmospheres of distorted guitars and distant screams. Occasionally we hear clean guitar chanting a haunting eastern melody. But as suits the theme, the human element is stifled by the impending mechanical world, an industrial morass collapsing upon the listener. This is best achieved at “The Square Root of 964,” the closest the album comes to Black Metal—this track could have easily gone on the latest Black Funeral album.

I cannot stress enough that this is challenging music, a work in and of itself, and not a soundtrack. It is a carefully crafted conception of a purgatorial spiral of the mind. So support local music and pick this up. And if you dare, check out Tetsuo the Iron Man for a visual complement. Jigoku is proof that New Media students do much more than worship Steve Jobs and Adobe Photoshop.

Posted in Reviews ]]> http://zephyrusblog.wordpress.com/2009/09/30/body-hammer-jigoku/feed/ 1 zephyrus2007 Body Hammer - Jigoku http://zephyrusblog.wordpress.com/2009/08/21/behemoth-evangelion/ http://zephyrusblog.wordpress.com/2009/08/21/behemoth-evangelion/#comments Sat, 22 Aug 2009 00:50:53 +0000 Jeremy http://zephyrusblog.wordpress.com/?p=256 ]]>

“All hail slain and risen god!
All hail Dionysus!”

They have returned, the most blasphemous force out of Poland since the heliocentric model. Evangelion translates to “good news,” in this case for the Behemoth fanboys; but recent critics should pay attention to this remarkable improvement over 2007’s The Apostasy. Fans of Zos Kia Cultus should delight in this return to form, while those who acclaim Demigod shall witness a stunning progression. However, that’s not to say either work has been surpassed. Still, it’s awkward to give such praise to a Metal act so commercially exalted as to appear at Ozzfest and like events so abhorrent to the Underground.

Expectedly, this is the modern Death Metal Behemoth has come to epitomize: professional production, chaotic riffing and solos, and gratuitous amounts of blast-beats. Add in the band’s trademark use of Asiatic melodies, ancient mythology, and overuse of the preposition “Ov.”

Opening hymn “Daimonos” blasts off with all guns blazing, as does “Shemhamforash,” with such passionate violence not achieved since “Slaves Shall Serve.” Arguably the strongest tracks on the album, they envelope the listener in a maelstrom of blast-beats and blood-pumping riffs. Behemoth sacrificed technicality so as to honor the wall-of-sound principle, often borrowing Black Metal elements to achieve depth and flow. Jumping ship to a new producer also helped.

A little known fact is that Behemoth started out as pure Black Metal in the mid 90’s, and such reminisces permeate the album: an arpeggio here, a tremolo there, and even some Mayhem-style melodies. You’ll hear this especially in the closing track, where the band steps out of character for a simplistic, yet utterly sinister postlude.

Of course, this is Death Metal at its heart. “Transmigrating Beyond Realms Ov Amenti” could have come straight off of Demigod, sustaining a high level of brutality throughout the album. Matching this is Nergal’s vitriolic vocals, sounding pissed-off as ever. It’s a shame his Black Metal scream is completely gone. Inferno mixes up the cymbal work and fills on top of his nearly constant blasting, but his other drum patterns are too few and uninteresting. Orion’s bass, while adding firepower, does nothing remarkable (though I still recommend his band Vesania).

This being the band’s ninth studio album, it’s no surprise their dearth of fresh ideas. Few things, not even the guitar solos, are exceptional. Rather the album works on a consistent theme, rather than a mediocre sequence punctuated by sensational singles. However, the band has already premiered a music video for “Ov Fire and Void,” parts of which remind me of the one Rammstein did for “Mein Teil.” The downside of such homogeneity is that the formula gets tedious after a while. Three or four songs into it, you’ve gotten all it has to offer, and the rest is recycled material until the recessional hymn in this unholy mass of ordinary time.

This year has seen a dramatic resurgence of old school Death Metal, with stellar releases by Asphyx, Excoriate and Slugathor (personal chart-toppers). But as always, Behemoth continue to carry the new school’s standard into battle against religion, society and your eardrums.

Enjoy your summer and keep it trve.

“I saw the execution of my tomorrow, saw it and bowed
in the theater of hellfire; the inferno is now.
I am lost again. I lean against the purgatory gates.
To ease my suffering, you’re offering to unlock my fate.”

From the snowscapes of Sweden, the legendary Candlemass are back with a vengeance. With little expectation, the masters of Doom Metal have unleashed a monolithic opus worthy of the title “Death Magic Doom” (perhaps a gibe at Metallica’s “Death Magnetic”).
The opening hymn “If I Ever Die” launches abruptly into the band’s newer, more aggressive style characteristic of their eponymous 2003 rebirth. The instantly memorable first riff sets a higher standard, maintained all the way to the album’s conclusion. Despite their doomy classification, Candlemass aren’t afraid to pick up the pace. This creates dynamic contrasts that diversify the album’s moods. Such creative energy combined with a thick and crushing production creates a relentless showcase welcome to the modern listener. Gone are the atmosphere and reverbed-to-the-max snare drums of “Nightfall.” But this departure doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten their roots and their diehard fans.

This change is most evident in the vocal department. Rob Lowe has at last settled into his new role, matching the music’s more abrasive approach. Messiah Marcolin’s operatics better suited the epic style of the 80’s albums, but seemed out of place on the self-titled album. Lowe, on the other hand, never overpowers the instruments, finding his place within the music rather than in counterpoint to it. Still, he sings his heart out, running the gamut of emotions, from sadness to hatred to malevolence. Though an objectively weaker vocalist, he sounds more human.

And Lowe isn’t the only musician who gives it his all. Jan Lindh’s drumwork is marvelous, ranging from triumphal marches, to rocking grooves to, well, downright doominess! Even after 25 years, Leif Edling perfects the art of the guitar riff from the bass on up. The Dantean lyrical themes, demonstrated at this review’s opening, are nothing original, but appropriate for a band whose works are as timeless (to a true Metal fan) as the Divine Comedy itself.

And that leads us to songwriting. “Death Magic Doom” shines brightest in its choruses, where the time shifts and the anthems ring. This is most apparent in “The Bleeding Baroness” and especially “Dead Angel,” where Lowe, at a haunting pitch, is in dialogue with the lead guitar. One of Candlemass’ classic strengths is the subtle use of synths and samples, here with the hellish bells chiming in the crusher “Hammer of Doom.” All these unique qualities aside, this is a Heavy Metal tour de force.

With this release, their best since 1989’s “Tales of Creation,” the rebirth of Candlemass has reached its triumphant climax, reasserting the band’s place at the pinnacle of Doom Metal and, in the shadow of Black Sabbath, one of the greatest Metal bands of all time. 

Please bookmark the sight, and subscribe to its RSS feed if you’re interested: http://vergilsinferno.wordpress.com/

The purpose of “Vergil’s Inferno” is to explore and explicate the influence of Vergil’s vision of the afterlife upon Dante, and thus the prevailing concepts of damnation and deliverance. I will exercise my mastery of the Latin language, my understanding of poetry, and my deep fascination with the classical world and the debt to it the modern world fails to pay. 

How a pagan poet created a Christian Hell….

What you’ll see here is all my progress that’s fit to print, both as a journal and a exhibition to general interest. I will share translations, research texts, and anything relating to the project or my classical studies here at UMaine. So please show your support and feedback to keep me at a high pace. Leave comments, criticisms, libels, you name it. If you’re reading it then it was worth my time. Thank you.

“Jeremy Swist is a second-year Honors College student, majoring in Latin and History with a minor in Classics. A former Bostonian, he calls Westport Island his home. Last summer he wrote reviews for The Metal Observer webzine. In addition to Metal he enjoys classical music, ancient history and attending first-year Honors lectures for the hell of it. He serves the Modern Languages & Classics department as a Latin tutor.

“Ministry of Metal” has been running strong for a full year, with a mission to restore dignity to a genre so diluted by commercialization. This is achieved by playing both modern extreme metal and the old school classics. A typical show features Black Metal acts like Bathory, Emperor and Deathspell Omega, Death Metal like Morbid Angel and Asphyx, and Traditional Metal like Candlemass and Manilla Road. Jeremy taps a collection of over 500 albums, spanning several genres and over three decades of music. With a focus on European acts, he flies Metal’s true colors as an international phenomenon, expressing cultural pride and the plight of the human condition. A full broadcast explores the genre’s prolific development and vastness of styles, then dares you to affirm that “it still all sounds the same.” What began as a schism from Rock n’ Roll today incorporates diverse elements from industrial to symphonic. Invited are both veteran headbangers and open-minded initiates. Jeremy takes requests via FirstClass, but receives most through his multinational fan-base centered at UltimateMetal.com.

“Ministry of Metal” airs Sundays 7-10 PM.”