My war against lists continues. To be honest with you, it was unintentional – I just sat down to start preparing for our usual Top 25 Albums So Far list and I didn’t want to do it. As time goes on, this happens to me more and more with lists; I just don’t get the appeal. Now, there are forces within Heavy Blog (it’s not that sinister) who still like lists and push me to do them. I always concede the big end of year list (yes, if I had my way, that would be gone as well) because it’s such a massive deal for a lot of people but for this one, I called a bit of an executive decision and got rid of it. Well, not entirely – I just changed it.
So, what do we have for you this time? This time, we are focusing on “musical moments” in our lives in 2024. Why the scare quotes? Because I gave a very, very loose definition of what a musical moment is and our lovely and magnificent staff (seriously) ran with it. Below, you will find anything and everything that moved us that had to do with music in 2024. There are album reviews, notes on genre, talking about relationship with pieces of gear, trend analysis, and more. No, really – more. Some of us decided to write short, snappy entries; others included pieces of writing that could be essays in their own right.
And that’s why I prefer this format over lists – it gives us air and space to write about what really moved us this year. A top 25 list does that as well, to an extent, but it also includes a lot that is perfunctory, mandatory, and, therefore, redundant. Here, instead, is only what we thought was worth out time to write about, unconstrained by a long list of releases. Enjoy! Take your time with it. Skip ahead. Close the tab, re-open it, click on links, do your thing. The future is ours to define; let’s try to step out of some boxes.
P.S. I also decided to experiment with leaving the author names in the titles this time, instead of signing each individual passage. I don’t know how I feel about it yet but I think it looks cleaner. Let me know. Or don’t. Go sit on a mountain instead and commune with the spirit of the rocks. Or just take a nap. You got this.
-Eden Kupermintz
Eden Finally Gets To See Caligula’s Horse Live (Eden)
I’m a guy who waits for things. OK Eden, what the fuck does that mean? Bear with me here. I have a weird relationship with time (yeah it’s one of those posts). I love feeling time and the best way to do that is with extremes – focusing on really small units of time or waiting for something for a really long time or recognizing when something that’s gone comes back. Things like that. That’s also why I like to dream, to imagine things that might be, to put myself in different situations. I like to experience things in fits and starts, just a little bit at first, so I can picture what it might feel like to get the whole thing and then wait some time before I get it.
Here’s a good example – seeing Caligula’s Horse, one of my favorite musical acts around, live. I first got my little taste at Barcelona, 2017, Be Prog My Friend festival. C-horse played a short but sweet set, after which I got to meet the band after being online friends with them for a few years. After that, we grew closer, especially Jim and I, as I continued to dive into the band’s lyrics and career. But I hadn’t seen a full set, right? “Just” a few songs but enough to plant the seed, the dream of something more. Then, this year at Gramercy Theatre in New York, I finally got to see that full show.
And let me tell you, that feeling of time condensed, of the past and present commingling, of a future suddenly made real and tangible before my eyes, was one of the sweetest things I’ve ever felt (hell, I even wrote an essay from some of those feelings). The setlist was perfect, touching on my favorite tracks from Charcoal Grace and some of my favorites from their back catalog. I also got to meet the band backstage and tell them how much they still mean to me and how much their music still moves me and that was even sweeter, to get to share that passion with the artists who fuel it.
I was high for days after it. I was still smiling on the train back home. I am still smiling now. I can’t wait (see what I’m doing here?) to get to do that again and, in the meantime, both past and future will keep me comfort as I remember and imagine the show, the one that happened this year and was one of its highlights for me, and the one(s) yet to come.
Slift – Ilion (Eden)
Taking into account the fact that I consider Slift’s previous release, Ummon, to be one of the greatest albums I’ve discovered in the last ten years, it’s safe to say that I was very excited for Ilion. In general, I feel like progressive and psychedelic stoner metal has never been in a better spot and I’ve been listening to a ton of it (see my other entry here on my speakers), which only contributed to the general excitement I was experiencing. Which is why it was such a delight to listen to it for the first time and realize that Slift had managed to capture lightning in a bottle once again.
I’ve written about it elsewhere so I won’t spill much more ink, but Ilion is Ummon but more in every respect. It is more space-like, going farther and further with its concept and massive delivery. It is more psychedelic, letting its music and themes undulate even more on the back of its massive riffs and groovy compositions. Somehow, it is also tighter at the same time, accurate and intense when it needs to be (just tune in to the last minute of the first track for a taste of that). It is simply a marvelous album, encapsulating so much of why I love this genre and what drew me to it repeatedly over 2024 so far. On Ilion, Slift grow into the high standard I’ve already developed for them and showcase why they are one of the most exciting bands operating in the stoner, doom, and psychedelic spaces today.
Khirki – Κυκεώνας (Eden)
There are albums you listen to non-stop as they release and which then tend to burn out and then albums you listen to in spurts, coming back to them over a longer period of time. This year, I’ve had both but Khirki’s Κυκεώνας is definitely of the latter sort. I liked it a lot when I first heard it, don’t get me wrong, but I also found myself drifting to other stuff (like the other album I wrote about for this post). And yet, every time it got pushed aside, it would invariably come back again and, each time it did, I found myself falling for it just a little more. It’s truly a step forward for the band, containing a lot more variance and different approaches than their previous release. It feels more fleshed out and more modern, moving deeper into Khirki’s own sound while also taking notes from the latter eras of their influences, mainly Mastodon (think The Hunter onwards).
Also, there’s the fucking riff from “The Watchers of Enoch”. Holy fuck that riff is good and it’s been playing in mind ever since I first heard it. It perfectly captures why I love this album – it’s so big and groovy and yet intimately Khirki’s, inflected with the Mediterranean influences which put them on the map for me. Even when Κυκεώνας is not in rotation, “The Watchers of Enoch” is never far from it as I find myself gravitating back again and again to its irresistible allure. By the way, the answer to “which riff from the track are you talking about?” is “yes”. All of it. It’s all so good. OK, enough words now – I need to listen to Κυκεώνας and you’ve got a lot more to read.
Listening to Post-Rock on the Train from Providence to NYC Again and Again (Eden)
I’ve written about the weirdness of how time and space overlap a few times on the blog (and many more times elsewhere). I’m sure it’s not just me but I seem to have a special attunement to that weird feeling you get when you visit a city you used to live in but haven’t in a few years. Or do something you used to do all the time as a kid but haven’t even remembered in a while. There’s a layering of memories, an overlapping of sensations and feelings that put me in a really strange mood. It’s not really a bad mood per se but it’s definitely not simple; there’s yearning, and sadness, and longing, but also joy at the rediscovery and a deep sense of comfort that comes with refinding things you love and deepening your connection to them.
To the long list of things that trigger this I can now add frequently taking a long enough train route. When you take a short train, the time spent on the commute leads to a different sort of experience, one of routine, a repetition that becomes part of your day to day. But when you take a longer ride, and one which you don’t take every other week but (let’s say) every other month or even longer, the event is special enough to stand out but also to stay connected to every other ride along the route. It becomes like a signpost, pointing back to all of its previous iterations down the road but also promising its reappearance.
I have a lot of friends in NYC. I used to see them once or twice a year, when I flew. That created its own overlap of memories. But now that I live in Providence, RI, I’m in NYC every other month or so. I feel so much more connected to it and situated with it; I suddenly have recent memories in it, like “oh there’s that place I had lunch at a few weeks ago”. It’s weird. There’s also the train itself. It’s the same ride because that’s how trains work, but it’s obviously not the same. There’s different people and different weather and I’m different. But all of the previous Edens riding this train are riding it with me every time and I know that this current Eden will be riding it with the future versions. There are water birds, which are probably different birds but they’re also the same, diving in and out of the ocean and resting in the wetlands, and crying in the clear, blue sky.
Please listen to this album after having read the above and let it sit for a while. It will come together.
Rediscovering My Speakers (Eden)
I’ve had good speakers for a few years now (Focal Chorus 706). They’re not like, insane; I didn’t spend an amount of money on it that would make you think I’m rich. But they’re really good and I’ve been listening to them, tweaking them, and finding the correct configuration for a few years now. And yet, they really opened up to me this year, after I moved. Maybe it’s the fact that I am no longer working from, and listening to music at, a balcony. Oh yeah, you probably don’t know that – real estate in Tel Aviv is weird and Ronnie and I lived in a really small place before we moved. My office was on the (closed) balcony and while I did love it for its light and air, it wasn’t really conducive to acoustic brilliance.
Now, I have my own workroom and it has wooden floors and a carpet. So maybe it’s that but audio is hard to pin down and I can’t really know whether the speakers actually sound warmer or whether I am imagining it/biasing the new (and is there really a difference between imagining that something sounds better and it sounding better “in fact”?) Maybe it’s the fact that I work 100% remotely now, seeing as the company I work for is located primarily across an ocean. Or, lastly, maybe it’s the music I’ve been listening to as of late, more expansive, “open”, and lending itself to the bigger sound that speakers can deliver over headphones.
Whatever it might be, and I am inclined to believe that it is all of the above, I have been listening to a lot more music on my speakers and I love every second of it. Headphones are amazing; for detail and fidelity, with a good set, you really can’t get much better. But there’s something, at least for me, about the emotional impact of music on speakers, especially when played loudly, that is second to none. It’s how I fell in love with music originally, since I couldn’t afford good headphones; instead, I had hand-me-down speakers from my dad which were cheap even back in the 70’s. And on them I discovered the emotional connection one could have with music and there’s something indelible about that entry point.
It also might be the case that the crop of music that drew my attention in 2024 (progressive death metal, lots of stoner and doom, and so forth) lends itself particularly well to the sound of speakers. Or maybe it’s the other way around and I’ve been gravitating more towards music that sounds good (or even better) when I play it on my speakers. Regardless, I hope my newly kindled romance with my speakers continues; I’m enjoying every second of it.
P.S. if you have good speakers, please play this song at full volume
Hooning Around on My Bike While Listening to Gatecreeper (Josh B)
There have a ton of outstanding albums released in 2024. For me though the best and most obvious stand out is easily Gatecreeper’s Dark Superstition, not only because it represents a massive step up and mainstream breakthrough for one of metal’s most-touted underground(ish) acts, or because it perhaps constitutes a landmark entry in the overall melo/death metal canon. Both of those are worthy accolades, of which Gatecreeper and are wholly deserving. However, I must admit that the main reason that Dark Superstition is more or less locked in as my album of the year at this point is that it makes me pedal really, really fast!
Looking for a reason to get out of the house and get my body moving last year led me to purchasing a shitty old pushbike and forcing myself to go for rides after work as often as I could. Ten months and three bikes later, I’ve become a menace to civilized society, tearing around the nearby reserve (which I’ve just found out is called “Skeleton Creek” \m/), terrorising unmindful pedestrians and putting other, would-be cyclists in their place. Getting a bike also began as something to do while listening to podcasts and audiobooks, instead of just pacing around the house all the time, but I have since discovered that you can pedal for around twice as long and approximately 200-times faster by simply listening to death metal or some seriously volitile crossover hardcore, of which Gatecreeper provide the perfect combination.
I’ve cut some pretty quick laps thanks to the likes of Unearth, Hatebreed, Unearth and Her Nightmare. If I’m chasing peak performance (and enjoyment) though, it’s gotta be Dark Superstition. I’m sure the album is plenty potent in its intended form, but it’s true power lies in my perfected resequencing. Placing doomy closer “Tears Fall from the Sky” upfront might seem odd to some (and, admittedly, the transition isn’t as smooth as it could be), but what they’re forgetting to factor in is that it takes me approximately five-minutes and fifty-one seconds, or one “Tears Fall From the Sky”, to get from my front door to the main part of the reserve, at which point “A Chilling Aura” kicks in, releasing all its brooding, built-up tension and unleashing me as an unstoppable juggernaut of speed and fury upon the world!
The effect is only bolstered by what follows. I honestly don’t think there’s been a more perfect thirty seconds of music released this or possibly any year than the final thirty-seconds of “A Chilling Aura” into the first thirty of “Caught in the Treads”, which is an absolute shoo-in for riff of the year, if not song itself. From there, the album provides the perfect balance of powerful, fist-pumping anthems (“The Black Curtain”, “Flesh Habit” “Dark Star”) and blistering rabidity (“Mistaken for Dead”, “Oblivion”) to keep you going like a thousand Energizer bunnies strapped to a Scud missile. How come everything gets slower in a breakdown, but they make me pedal so much faster? I don’t know, but if I’m waiting to cross the road and it’s building up to a drop, it takes every ounce of my excessive willpower and physical strength not to hurl myself into oncoming traffic. For, while the oncoming riffs assure me that I will ride away unscathed, I do try to keep the amount of Gatecreeper-induced destruction I cause to a minimum. Sometimes, anyway.
Lady Gaga’s Chromatica Ball Goes Hard AF (Josh B)
Whether it’s the industrial and glam-rock influences on Born This Way (2011), the hard-hitting synth-metal beatdowns littered throughout Artpop (2013) or outright collaborations with collaborations with Metallica, Lady Gaga has long been one of the more admired and metal-adjacent modern popstars. The last decade has seen her experimenting with more country-inflected textures before returning to fluorescent, 80’s-inspired dance-pop for her recent record, Chromatica (2020). With each Lady Gaga album, though, also comes a live “Ball” concert video, summing up the related tour, with The Chromatica Ball being filmed in front of some 51,000 odd fans at Los Angeles Sold-out Dodger Stadium in September of 2022, and also being the most metal thing Gaga, or any other modern popstar (certainly of comparable stature), has ever done.
The Chromatica Ball kicks off with an intro video depicting the silhouette of some kind of geometric dominatrix demon, before Gaga herself appears looking like Marilyn Manson gone Hellraiser in a spike-studded cannibal mask (which she then proceeds to sloppily make out with, as you do). While not as genuinely provocative and unsettling as the tentacle-horror themed intro to her 2017 Cochella headline performance (this was while touring innocuous country album Joanne, of course), the Chromatica Ball intro serves as a strong reminder that Gaga is a pop-star with some genuine edge to her, and sets the tone perfectly for the metal-tinged onslaught to come.
When Gaga arrives on stage, she does so looking like RoboCop, encased in a metal cocoon, which she proceeds to break out of while delivering a hard-hitting rendition of mega-hit “Bad Romance”, while her (rather attractive) band strut and crab-walk around a fire-riddled stage sporting flying v’s, as though they were about to launch into a cover of “My Own Summer”, and Gaga herself repeatedly commands the crowd to “put [their] fucking hands up”, “jump” [the fuck up] and “scream” for her. I’m not sure how much the band are actually contributing to the music itself, beyond the occasional open chord and muted rhythms, but pop-music and heavy metal are each genres that are heavily reliant on visuals, and Gaga and her directors do a sublime job of leveraging metal’s machismic posturing to enhance her opening ensemble of already energetic pop standards, while also reinforcing my increasing conviction that bands should open, rather than close with their strongest and most exciting material.
This metallic energy is maintained across the subsequent performance of “Just Dance”, but it’s on “Poker Face” that it truly reaches boiling point. The track is introduced as the stage turns blood-red and Gaga lets out a maniacal laugh and she proceeds to deliver the campy dance number with extra snarl and aggression, making for a definitive, metal-infused version of a landmark pop number that changed and defined popular music for the better part of the last two decades (during which you can also catch a glimpse of RuPaul’s Drag Race alum/antagonis Willam Belli in the crowd). …And that’s just the first three songs!
The heavy metal/horror theme gets dropped eventually, but not until after Gaga is introduced at the beginning ball’s following “Act” smeared in blood and strapped to a concrete operating table, with the costume being peeled off over the following songs to reveal the flayed flesh-looking costume beneath as she sings about a monstrous man who ate both her heart and brain. The enhanced aggression also comes through in Gaga’s later tirades in support of abortion rights and sexual assault victims, which reminds viewers that, unlike many of her contemporaries, she’s a popstar with genuine experience and political convictions. All of this is, of course, also punctuated by psychedelic, prog rock keyboard interludes,because why wouldn’t it be?.
Moreover, while previous balls have also dazzled in spectacle, the quality of Gaga’s vocal performance has often suffered due to the demands of the frequent kinetic dance numbers they demand. Here, however, she finds creative and striking ways to remain largely stationary. Which allows her to deliver a genuinely outstanding vocal performance throughout. The setlist is sadly absent of anything from (all-time greatest pop album of all time) Artpop, and some of its severely underrated cuts could certainly be subbed in, in place of one of the multiple piano ballads that clog up its third quarter. Other than that though, The Chromatica Ball exemplifies the pinnacle of both pop substance and spectacle, and does so by adding a hefty helping of somewhat unexpected, but wholly welcome heavy metal. …Which probably shouldn’t come as that much of a shock, given that the Chromatica logo looks like a mash-up of the Mandy axe and Metalocalypse logo.
Can You Make it Weirder? My Ever-Growing Obsession with Weird Music (JD)
While my first forays into extreme metal fandom focused on seeking ever faster, more brutal offerings from the vast metal underground, my fascination has gradually shifted toward bands disrupting the notion of genre and pushing metal into new frontiers. As I’ve started listening to more psychedelic, experimental, and generally bizarre music over the last few years, those shifting tastes have bled over to a desire for weirder metal. Whether it’s the droning psychedelic doom of ZOS, the blackened post-punk of Sunrise Patriot Motion, or the blackened krautrock of Oranssi Pazuzu, the weirder corners of the metal underground have been what has satiated my newfound need for musical novelty in metal.
After more than a quarter century of listening to metal, I find that little surprises me anymore. Stylistically, there are just so many aspects of metal that have been done to death. And just as with anyt style of music, there are going to be many more imitators than there are innovators. How many bands are simply offering themselves up as second- or third-rate Cannibal Corpse, Converge, or Mayhem clones? How many genre tropes are loyally followed by the vast majority of metal bands with little to no deviation?
As a musician myself, I understand that it’s impossible to completely break away from your influences. I also understand how easy it is to box yourself in stylistically. Hell, I’m definitely guilty of it. And, in part, it’s because making weird music comes with a price. There are numerous bands who have never gotten the recognition they deserved or have received recognition far too late for their boundary-pushing innovations. It may also be more difficult to market yourself or find an audience when you don’t easily fit into a succinct genre tag.
But the real difficulty comes in developing, obtaining, and maintaining a vision that challenges what “metal” is or even exists outside of what is generally acceptable as “metal”. The elitist detractors will gatekeep by calling it “false”, but, in my opinion, that’s a great indication of true innovation (and weirdness!). And that’s ultimately how metal moves forward: innovation and weirdness.
With that, I salute all of the innovators and purveyors of weirdness! Keep metal weird!
Sleepytime Gorilla Museum Bringing Back the Apocalypse (JD)
Sleepytime Gorilla Museum (SGM) has been one of my favorite bands ever since I first heard their 2007 release In Glorious Times shortly after its release. Up until that point, I had never heard anything quite like SGM. Sure, they had an obvious affinity for the likes of King Crimson, Thinking Plague, and Frank Zappa, but the band’s progressive and oddball influences also included 20th-century classical music, klezmer music, and funk. All of these influences were combined into a cracked and twisted take on progressive rock and metal. What added to the band’s unique take on progressive music was their heavy use of homemade and “found” instruments, the lyrical references to everything from phrenology to James Joyce, and the fake narrative surrounding the origin of the band’s name.
Unfortunately, I was never able to see SGM before the band’s untimely demise in 2011. But their cult status and legend grew as time went on. During this period, I found myself indulging in live YouTube videos of the band in which the band’s singular creative vision was on full display. To say nothing of the music itself, SGM’s live shows were a spectacle to behold. The band’s theatrical performances were nearly vaudevillian in nature, and they often included Shinichi Iova-Koga’s playful and grotesque Butoh dancing, nightmarish cabaret-inspired costumes, and bassist/vocalist Nils Frykdahl’s dark, hilarious banter.
It wasn’t until 2023 when the band announced their triumphant return with plans for a tour and new LP (that I covered in the blog) that I realized that I would finally have the opportunity to see them live. Although it’s cliche to say, seeing the band perform was an experience unlike any other. The performance encapsulated so much, and so much that is in direct conflict with one another: the grotesque, the comedic, the ominous, and even the cute.
To paraphrase an SGM song title, the band has truly brought back the apocalypse in 2024. Here’s to hoping that the actual apocalypse won’t arrive before the rest of the world catches on to SGM’s greatness.
I Like Music that Sounds like Shit (JD)
I have to give credit to my friend who made a bumper sticker from which I lifted the title of this entry, but I have often thought about how much this applies to my preferences for production in metal. While I can’t say that even most of the metal I listen to “sounds like shit”, necessarily, the over polished nature of much modern metal production has become an unfortunate automatic turn-off for me.
I think most of us would probably agree that within metal exists a striving toward “inhumanity”, and it’s a quality that pervades most extreme metal styles. To be clear, I don’t mean “inhumane” in the sense of “cruel” or having a “lack of compassion”. I mean that there is a striving toward both transcending human ability and transcending “humanness” in embodying the “animalistic”. For the former, we can consider bands attempting to achieve inhuman speed and inhuman technicality. For the latter, we can consider the inhuman growls and screams preferred by extreme metal vocalists.
While either sense of “inhumanity” is foundational to metal, I find that over polished production styles, such as those often found in most modern progressive and technical death metal, remove the “humanness” from the music altogether. When the drums sound as if they could have been programmed (but were recorded by a real drummer) or the singing relies a bit too heavily on autotune, that seems a step too far into the “inhumanity” of the style for my tastes.
Now, you might be interpreting the subtext here as a critique on AI, and I can assure you that this is not what this is. I am critiquing the need for perfection because it comes with the cost of creating soulless music. As a musician myself, I understand the lure of “perfection”, especially as it relates to recording. I often skip songs on demos I’ve recorded in which I’ve made obvious mistakes. I’m simply too ashamed to hear them. But I would rather hear those mistakes again and again than have a recording that not only is not representative of the humanity of the music but also removes the human soul from the music altogether.
So many of my favorite albums, whether metal or not, are imperfect. Perhaps the drums are a little sloppy or the singing is a little off. At the very least, many of my favorite albums sound like they were recorded live with analog equipment. These are the types of recordings that Steve Albini (RIP) made his career out of engineering. There is an immediacy and desperation to those types of recordings that demonstrate the “humanity” and the “human soul” of the music. When everything is quantized, the “humanity” and the “human soul” of the music is what’s lost.
To be fair, I have been heartened by the many currently-active extreme metal bands who have avoided the “lure” of over polished production. So, in some ways it feels like it’s swinging the other direction. Here’s to hoping it goes the way of gated reverb entirely.
Knocked Loose. Thou. Bongripper. Stay heavy. Forever. (Jon)
Each year, it feels like there’s a specific motif that emerges in my listening preferences that steers my infatuation with extreme music in a singular direction. A few years ago, it was an emphasis on the technical insanity and flamenco-infused progressivism of bands like First Fragment and Archspire. I had a similar moment when I was enraptured by the brass-forward weirdness of Imperial Triumphant and White Ward, encouraging me to seek out as many bands as I could that peddled similar sounds. While my listening scope remains broad as a general rule, it’s fun to get enraptured by a particular brand of extremity that carries the lion’s share of my listening time. For the first half of 2024, that singular focus has been clear and definitive: Abject, merciless heaviness.
When looking at the metal landscape of 2024, the trend of “heaviness” as a central motif for a significant chunk of high-profile records feels readily apparent. While I could rattle off a dozen such bands that made push-your-body-through-the-floor mercilessness a cornerstone of their most recent offerings, there are three that for me set the tone for what has been a monumental year of heavy: Bongripper, Knocked Loose, and Thou. While each of these bands tends to be notably aggressive historically, their 2024 releases are particularly wrathful and riff-centric, culminating in an unholy trinity of megaton destruction that feels like an intentional and powerful kick to the chest that I can’t get enough of.
While we could spend considerable time talking about the particulars and merits of each record (all of which are thoroughly excellent in their own right), I’ll focus primarily on the common threads that bind these releases together and serve as an emblem for the year as whole. Historically, each of these bands have worked slowly toward the infusion of more progressive elements into their music. Satan Worshipping Doom, A Tear in the Fabric of Life, and Magus are three examples of these bands’ capabilities when it comes to creating expansive, progressive soundscapes to complement their usual brand of intensity.
Given their trajectories, one might assume that their next big sonic leap was just around the corner. Maybe Knocked Loose would finally give in and add a few doot doots to their massive breakdowns??? Alas, ‘twas not to be. Each of these releases is as punishing and straightforward as anything they’ve released previously, highlighting an approach that feels like a jarring left turn in their career sonic trajectories. For some this may come across as a negative, but for me this unexpected return to base brutality feels like nothing short of a beautiful offering. When the dust settles, it’s clear that each of these bands’ 2024 releases are their most punishing and relentless to date, while sitting among the very best of their careers thus far.
My thorough enjoyment of Empty, You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To, and Umbilical (three very different records aesthetically and sonically) has led me once again to the question of why I love this music so much. It feels like every year there’s a new, or at least more nuanced, answer to that question. My tastes have broadened considerably from my early days as a metalhead, and I find myself vibing strongly with records I can’t imagine having enjoyed a decade ago. It’s been a fun and remarkable experience pushing my own listening boundaries to uncharted territory, but in 2024 I find myself craving a space of blissful simplicity. A place reminiscent of my earliest days as a teenage metalhead.
I didn’t need saxophone in my black metal back then, or flamenco guitar in my tech death. I wanted one thing above all others: abject sonic punishment. I wanted to feel the music in my chest. In my bones. I wanted to be beaten over the head with riffs, not wowed or stupefied by grandiose sections of prime noodle. I needed to be destroyed, rebuilt, and destroyed again by the sheer magnitude of metal. An experience no other music on earth can duplicate with such ferocity. And in 2024, the metal gods blessed my ears with three nearly perfect records from three bands near and dear to my heart that offered exactly, to the letter, what my blackened heart was craving.
What a glorious gift.
It feels good to find a core of my identity again. To see the music I love from the prism of my earliest transformative memories. It’s been a really special experience. So while I don’t have grand prognostications on what this shift means for these bands or for the metal scene at large, I rest in a simple state of gratefulness. For finding my center again through staring at the ceiling at 2:00 AM high as fuck letting “Nothing” deconstruct my being. For seeing red and punching my steering wheel mercilessly as “Sit & Mourn” decimated my car speakers. For getting astonishingly misanthropic while listening to Umbilical on repeat for an entire week. It’s not the most complex of mutations, but damn it feels good.
So here’s to Knocked Loose, Thou, and Bongripper. To staying heavy. To finding your roots and giving them room to breathe many years later. Here’s to metal. Forever.
Convulsing – Perdurance (Jon)
Death metal, however much I adore the genre, contains a lot of superficial emotion. Songs about ejaculating blood and dismemberment are written by dudes who love buying stuffed animals for their kids and talking with fans. That’s not at all a bad thing, and it’s honestly part of the fun of the genre. It’s abject depravity that often is nothing more than a bunch of one-up bluster by bands from the 90s intending to keep their shock jock reputations alive. It’s as off-putting as it is hilarious and unserious. But when there’s a death metal record that captures all the musical intensity and menace of the genre while presenting bracingly honest, authentic, and vulnerable lyrical themes, it’s worthy of note. Convulsing’s third full-length release Perdurance is one of those special records and it’s without question one of the most deeply affecting and powerful metal releases of 2024.
Brendan Sloan is no stranger to aggressively approaching deeply personal themes in his music. His work in Dumbsaint is of particular note in this regard. But there’s something very personal and intense about his approach to songwriting in Convulsing. There’s a transparent, angry, sorrowful undercurrent to the project’s music and lyrics, and Perdurance may be the most stark and oddly hopeful manifestation of this approach yet. While listening to this record, I cannot recommend reading the lyrics as an accompaniment strongly enough. Sloan has here penned something raw, rare, and beautiful that is worthy of attention and dissection. It reminds me in many ways of Départe’s spellbinding debut Failure, Subside in emotional tone, which is one of the highest compliments I can possibly give to an album’s lyrical content. Tracks like “Inner Oceans” and “Endurance” are achingly beautiful lyrically, presenting some of the most potent and moving themes I’ve heard this year. Every track contains such beautiful moments, and thankfully Sloan’s poignant lyrics are in no way let down by the songwriting.
Holy shit Perdurance is a beast musically. While I am an enormous fan of the project’s previous release Grievous, Perdurance is Convulsing’s most dynamic and transfixing release yet. Which is saying something. There’s not a single space occupied here that feels unintentional or wasteful, blending expansion and economy in a rare manner that makes every track feel exactly the right length. All killer, no filler, but still somehow atmospheric and moody. The riffs here are also complex and always interesting without feeling pretentious or unnecessary, making a decidedly progressive and experimental release feel tangible and accessible. If it isn’t clear, the main theme here is songwriting balance, culminating in the project’s most fully effective release to date.
If you were only able to listen to one death metal record from the first half of 2024, Perdurance is that release. There is a great amount of beauty here, an authentic rawness that is as bracing as the music is punishing. Brendan Sloan is one of the most underrated and underappreciated voices in the extreme metal world, and I can only hope this release serves as his breakout moment. Either way, we’ll keep singing the praises of a dynamic and immensely talented musician and songwriter whose work has presented uniform delights over the last decade. Essential listening.
Ulcerate and the curse of consistent greatness (Jon)
By all counts, Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings film trilogy is a uniquely exceptional and unassailable 21st Century classic of its medium. Over the course of three superb movies, Jackson and his incredible team painted a portrait of fantasy worldbuilding that has to this day not come close to being toppled by another film property. But believe it or not, I’ve had a few conversations with friends recently that fundamentally blew my mind. Mainly because the words “slow” and “mid” were used to describe these masterpieces. Outside of wanting to absolutely slap the ever living spit out of these fine folks (jk I don’t condone violence over such silly topics but DON’T TEST ME WITH THAT SHIT), it got me thinking about consistent greatness and how, for different generations and in different moments, something that is close to objectively perfect on a multitude of fronts could be receive some wild hate over time. Which leads me to another New Zealand product, Ulcerate.
In similar fashion, fans of death metal will be hard pressed to find a discography as uniquely untouchable as that constructed over the last few decades by these tinnitus-inducing titans. Each of their records is imbued with a spark of death metal madness that few bands of their caliber have been able to match. Their songwriting, instrumentation, and atmosphere are by most counts truly exceptional, and while this certainly doesn’t mean a listener is required to enjoy the final product, it would certainly be difficult to argue against their expert skill and merit as a musical entity.
Yet here we are in the year of our infernal underlords 2024 and the amount of comments I’ve read calling this band and their latest record, the truly magnificent Cutting the Throat of God, “bad” is just wild to me. Is it a genuine distaste for the band’s style of atonal, dissonant death metal? That’s a valid stylistic argument that I can absolutely accept. Is it a comparison to the band’s previous records that potentially impacted a listener more? Possible, though slightly less effective. Or, perhaps, could it be that folks are just bored of consistent greatness?
This merry band of Ulcerate haters, I have to say, tend to be in the minority of listeners of death metal. Over their past several records, plenty of outlets (including yours truly) have lauded the band’s releases as some of the best in the genre within a given year. Just take a hop over to RYM and it’s clear that the band has plenty of rabid fans and enough accolades already to match the careers of bands double their age. But it feels like with each new record, the hate just continues to escalate despite the band’s continued winning streak of superb releases. To be honest I’m kind of baffled by it. Again, this isn’t to say that anyone who dislikes Ulcerate is a bad actor or has terrible taste. This music certainly isn’t for everyone and I would never assume someone had poor taste for disliking it. But it does make me wonder if for some listeners there’s no narrative to latch onto because the band is so consistent in the quality of their output that it almost becomes… boring? If that’s the case I must confess that I love this boring thing.
Cutting the Throat of God is, in this writer’s opinion, one of the most dynamic, soulful, and melody driven releases of the band’s already stellar career. A common (and very fair) criticism I’ve heard regarding Ulcerate is that their songwriting style is often difficult to latch onto given their constantly shifting chord progressions and absurdly dynamic drumming. This is a complaint I can 100% understand, as Ulcerate’s core sound is often a slippery and enigmatic one. But to my ears Cutting the Throat of God contains more earworms and comparatively accessible moments of melodic guitar work than any album in their discography. This record is a real step in a direction that straightens out many of the strangenesses found in their previous record Stare Into Death and Be Still, rendering that criticism less compelling. Which makes the somewhat visceral hate for this record feel strange when viewing the band’s entire body of work. It still feels like Ulcerate, it boils and roils like Ulcerate, but does so in a way that feels progressive and far more accessible than Shrines of Paralysis or Vermis, for example. I dunno, man… something feels off.
It makes me wonder if maybe, just maybe… consistency and greatness can somehow hurt a band in 2024. When a band is so consistently good is it just the metalhead contrarianism in us that wants to call them shit immediately? Is it boredom with tight, dynamic, expertly performed compositions that both keep you on your toes and create a trance-like aura that you can subconsciously sink into? I don’t really know. But it feels sad to me. I’m not saying you have to love Ulcerate or that they’re beyond criticism or reproach. Not in the slightest. But when hate feels so detached from the product being bashed it feels disingenuous and weird to me. Much of what I’ve read about Ulcerate’s new record feels like it falls into that odd camp, and I’m not a fan.
For me, Cutting the Throat of God is a modern death metal masterpiece that serves as a capstone to a truly magnificent career thus far. It’s a band finding a unique rhythm and groove that builds upon the rock solid foundation they’ve constructed in new and exciting ways that never counteract or detract from their previous work. It’s an exceptional death metal record that I have a really hard time imagining a true aficionado of death metal honestly describing as “mid”. You’re free to hate this brand of music with every fiber in your being. But denying the talent on display here feels absurd.
So yeah. Rant over. This is one of the year’s best death metal records in my opinion and the online train of weird ass commentary rolls onward. In similar vein to The Lord of the Rings on its magnificent three year run between 2001 and 2003, Ulcerate are on a two decade sprint of greatness and the train shows no signs of stopping. Some may not like it, but this is what peak dissonant death metal looks like. Long may they reign.
Job for a Cowboy – Moon Healer (Jon)
In many ways, the journey of Job for a Cowboy feels like the polar opposite of the trajectory of the previously mentioned Ulcerate. Kicking off their career with the now infamous and MySpace famous Doom EP, JfaC presented the world with a raucous, fun, but ultimately fairly hollow deathcore release that was as loved as it was reviled in the mid 2000s. That reputation would follow the band through their first few full-length releases, as the band tried to find their footing in the larger scheme of the death metal world. With the release of Demoncracy, it was clear that JfaC was morphing into something more progressive and technical than their earliest work indicated, but it felt like they were not yet able to fully shake their reputation as a meatheaded deathcore unit. That is until the release of Sun Eater is 2014. Wildly progressive, supremely dynamic, and as far a cry in style in execution as one could imagine from their musical roots, Sun Eater was a watershed moment for JfaC, and a record that put them squarely in the conversation of most promising tech death bands.
Then just like that, they were gone.
A decade-long hiatus isn’t something many bands are able to recover from, but in 2024 the boys were back with a brand new full-length record, Moon Healer. Featuring the same line-up that crafted Sun Eater, hype for this new release was understandably high. But 10 years is a long time to lay dormant for any band. Families were started and grown, degrees were completed, careers were adjusted, and life changed drastically for much of the band. Which makes the quality and obvious care that went into Moon Healer all the more impressive. Definitively, this record absolutely slaps.
A step up from the already excellent Sun Eater in nearly every regard, Moon Healer is the culmination of all the technical and progressive chops JfaC were cultivating before their dissolution. The production is robust and clear, allowing each instrument to shine with conviction and legibility. The performances across the board are simply superb, letting listeners know that these boys didn’t miss out on any practice time in the decade since they last wrote a record together. The songwriting is dynamic and consistently interesting, allowing the excellent performances to chew on plenty of red meat throughout the albums almost perfect runtime. There isn’t a dud of a track on the entire record, resulting in one of the most interesting and listenable (on repeat) records of the year.
While the wait felt interminable, it’s hard to imagine the band presenting the world with a more cohesive and quality product than what we’ve been gifted in Moon Healer. It may have been a journey to get to this point, but I can say with honesty and conviction that JfaC now sit among the upper pantheon of most interesting and capable bands in this space of death metal. Welcome back, dudes. We’ve missed you.
The first new Generation Of Vipers song in over 10 years. (Phil)
Hope can be a dangerous thing, so when one of your favourite bands hasn’t released new material in over ten years, it’s probably best to let go and move on. Like a long distance relationship where the messages have become more scarce and less sentimental over time.
Generation of Vipers last offering was 2014’s thunderous Coffin Wisdom. A huge slab of sludgy noise that got me standing to attention like a meerkat and scurrying through their back catalogue to see what other treasures they had hidden away. 2012’s debut, Howl and Filth, didn’t disappoint.
So, there I was, head over heels with this band, eagerly awaiting them to tour the UK… and it just never happened. The closest GoV got was the Netherlands, and in hindsight I so wished I’d jumped on a plane to see them!
The years went by and as the bands social media presence wained, so did my hopes of another album. I’d come to terms with it, and was happy to have two full lengths (and a few EPs) to keep my needs satiated. Then in 2022, from out of the blue, they announced a handful of US shows. Were they back? Were they writing new material? My hopes were refuelled.
Jump to late June 2024 and not only do the band announce that a new full length release, Guilt Shrine, is coming this August on Translation Loss Records. they only go and drop a new song in all it’s glory. I’d waited ten years for this moment, but suddenly doubts came flooding into my head. What if they had changed their sound? What if I didn’t like it? Were my expectations too high?
I needn’t have worried, these three boys from Tennessee know what they’re doing and have smashed it out of the park yet again. “Lux Inversion” picks up where Coffin Wisdom left off a decade ago, full of twisted downtuned riffage, tortured screams and bruising mid-tempo beats you can’t help but bang your head to. There’s even a stank face inducing beat down to finish things off with a flourish. GoV really are masters at this sludge, post-hardcore nastiness and it’s wonderful to have them back. These five minutes of noise have made my typically miserable British Summer infinitely brighter.
So, a triumphant return? From early evidence, yes, but this is just one track out of seven and it would be churlish to get too carried away. Who am I kidding? It’s going to be fucking magnificent. The fact that a certain Mr Kurt Ballou was behind the desk has done nothing to ease my enthusiasm for the imminent release of this long overdue album. The 23rd of August can’t come fast enough.
KEXP, Audiotree, and the Importance of High-Quality Live-Studio Videos (Trent)
The inspiration for this piece is largely twofold, my personal battle with a worsening case of tinnitus and a subsequent reluctance to attend as many live shows, and this incredible KEXP M83 video that came out a few months ago. Videos of live performances with high quality mixing, video and audio quality have always been such a special prize to stumble upon on the internet. The type of video you save to a youtube playlist for sharing with friends or your uncle or something, or to watch again late at night while high. Over the years a number of projects and channels have emerged to reproduce the live experience in a closed studio environment. You get some of the passion of the live performance aspect of the band performing their songs together, with a dialed-in studio quality production. Places like Audiotree and Tiny Desk have been key figures in this for years, but a little less appreciated one is KEXP, and no-better example of that is this latest performance from the genre-blending French group M83.
Many know M83 largely for their famous 2011 indie-synth-pop banger “Midnight City”, however their early and arguably greatest material explored an electronic-shoegazing post-rock sound that to date still remains underappreciated. I’m speaking specifically of their sophomore 2003 album Dead Cities, Red Seas & Lost Ghosts. While this sound has generally shaped elements of all ten releases they’ve had since (including soundtracks), they’ve never fully recaptured the magic of tracks like “Run Into Flowers”.
Which gets me to the catalyst of this write-up – the performance of this track especially on this KEXP video, with live vocals, violin, and the addition of members of excellent newer post-rock group BRUIT≤, just absolutely floored me. This genuinely might be the best live-mixed studio performance I’ve ever heard. It goes beyond feeling like you’re there, but like you’re a part of it. The shimmering synth tones are just heavenly and immersive, and it always felt like a song with an extremely fitting title. The way it flows into the very post-rock instrumental “Gone” is seamless and perfectly fit as a continuation of the aura of that track. Just put this on and get lost in it.
Sure, a portion of the joy of going to shows is the experience, and the qualities of the music itself isn’t always paramount to live show enjoyment, but I think we could all rant about how we’re getting old and shows are too late, and too loud. Being able to pop on things like the latest The Callous Daoboys Audiotree performance in your living room, a performance that honestly sounds better than when I saw them in person, is just really fucking cool. Having these alternatives is such a blessed alternative to give us a piece of that experience at home, a little bit of something that feels like a lifeblood when you’ve gone too long without it.
Frail Body, Infant Island, And Everything Great About Modern Screamo (Trent)
While death metal (and thrash apparently?) are giving it a run for its money, 2024 has been the year of screamo, actually. I’m referring, of course, to the style of emotive hardcore-punk sometimes referred to as “skramz” that emerged in the early 90s, not your 00s Hot Topic-core. We’ve covered a number of the standouts this year if you’ve been following our Rotten to the Core column. Every month seemingly has had a stellar release from the genre, and the diversity of sounds coming out of this scene right now is so refreshing. Want something a little more digestible on the post-hardcore side? Check out the new Terry Green or Demersal. Prefer a heavier dissonant approach often referred to as emoviolence? The new Blind Girls record from down-under has you covered, or Heavenly Blue for something a little more atmospheric. If you’re more in the mood for some heartfelt yearning, there’s the midwest-emo influenced debut from Febuary. However, the specific niche that has particularly caught my attention and should appeal to more metal listeners is this new wave of bands fusing screamo with combinations of post-metal and black metal. Thus far this year, two bands have separated themselves from the pack in this field, Infant Island and Frail Body.
Frail Body’s sophomore release Artificial Bouquet dropped back in March on Deathwish Inc., and has remained in steady rotation since. This album is pure catharsis, and every element of it feels carefully crafted to contribute to that. The blackgaze-influenced soaring melodies, the pensive post-rock build-ups, the punchy bass, the jagged riffing and breakdowns, and the vocals, oh the vocals. Just the perfectly pained wailing to match the raw, funereal atmosphere. Like the desperate howling of your most burdensome memories. This is simply one of the best screamo albums in years, and its brilliant dynamics and better-than-the-sum-of-its-parts end product would feel truly next level if it weren’t for another little screamo album that dropped way back in January…
Obsidian Wreathe by Infant Island matches the dynamic intensity of Frail Body, but taps into much more into the lushness of blackgaze, with notable hints of the wistfulness of bands like Alcest. This sound is contrasted strikingly as the vocals shift between blackened screamo shrieks to brutal gutturals, matching the feel of the song as it fits, ranging from empowering and epic to earth-dredging, dense heaviness. The moments like on “Veil” where the beauty, passion, and apocalyptic fury all come together are like nothing else I’ve experienced from any other genre. It fills you with a state of euphoric invincibility. It both commands your attention and truly rattles you to your core. For more blackened screamo don’t sleep on the new Respire album out July 26th, and the more neo-crust approach of Lagrimas.
Like the catharsis mentioned about Frail Body, there’s something just liberating about this type of music. It transforms some of the depressive cloud lingering inside me into something I can feel tangibly escaping my body. It may just be that I neglected this genre for most of the 00s-10s, but it doesn’t feel like a stretch to say that the genre is in the best place it has ever been. Seemingly every cult status band from the early days are having comebacks, screamo specific festivals and tours are popping off around the world, if you’ve never given this genre a chance – there’s no better time to dive in than right now.
Weston Super Maim – See You Tomorrow Baby (Ahmed)
Credit to trans-Atlantic mathcore duo Weston Super Maim for one of the best marketing campaigns I’ve seen a band put together in a good while. All it took for me to give See You Tomorrow Baby a listen was seeing them advertise their new album with the tagline ‘Imagine if Meshuggah couldn’t count. FFO Meshuggah, Car Bomb, Frontierer’. One could debate back and forth on whether Maim actually know how to count, sure, but it doesn’t really matter when they turn out to be this good at writing disgusting mathcore riffs. See You Tomorrow Baby is ridiculous and over-the-top from minute one, and doesn’t really let up until its grandiose 8-minute closer “Perfect Meadows in Every Direction” wraps up with a dramatic ambient outro.
Despite the many obvious influences at hand, the record is most reminiscent of Car Bomb’s overall theming, given the emphasis on bright colours and odd geometric shapes in the album cover and accompanying music videos – but (sacrilege incoming) I’d argue the album hits stank-face-inducing highs at a rate sometimes even beyond that of Mordial. “Slow Hell” has the nastiest breakdowns this side of Mick Gordon, while the extended groove that closes out “Johnny Menomic” is somehow so catchy you want it to go on and on. But above all, it seems the band are just having fun with this: there’s no indication Maim take themselves all too seriously, between the album’s title and art (which recalls, say, Destrage’s So Much Too Much). Somehow this lack of grimdark theming really works in its favour – mainly since I have a soft spot for riffs so stupidly heavy I just want to laugh out loud the first time I hear them, which this record delivers on with aplomb.
Each year I keep an eye out for records that make you feel like your head is in a blast furnace for 30-40 minutes (how’s about that new Wormed, huh) while somehow leaving just enough breathing room for you to actually remain conscious through the experience. Maim hit that mark exceedingly well, and See You Tomorrow Baby is easily one of my 2024 highlights as a consequence.
Aborted – Vault of Horrors (Ahmed)
Can you believe that it’s been one year shy of three decades since Aborted released their first album? Neither can I, especially when listening through this year’s death metal masterpiece Vault of Horrors – somehow their best and freshest-sounding release since 2014’s The Necrotic Manifesto despite being album number twelve (!) in their discography.
It’s worth first explaining the album’s two gimmicks: first, each song features a different vocalist alongside Sven de Caluwe, ranging from Archspire’s Oli Rae Aleron to Matt McGachy from Cryptopsy. The features are front and centre when they happen, but the album takes care not to get carried away with them and instead keep de Caluwe at the helm for the most part, so there’s a nice balance being struck that prevents it from feeling like an unfocused vocalist showcase. I can’t think of an album since The Devin Townsend Project’s Deconstruction that’s managed to balance this many vocal features, and to see it play out in a death metal context is, frankly, sick as hell. The second gimmick at hand is that each song references a classic horror movie (as the album title implies) and given that Aborted have been doing the campy B-horror movie schtick for a hot minute, it’s a lot of fun to see them fully dive headfirst into their influences (and “The Shape of Hate” ending with some John Carpenter keys is a nice touch).
On top of all this, the band has since added Icelandic guitarist Dan Konradsson from Ophidian I, who themselves released one of the best modern tech death albums I’ve ever heard in Desolate just a few years back. Konradsson’s inclusion means that Vault of Horrors sometimes dabbles with some of Aborted’s techiest moments to date – especially on ridiculous numbers like “The Shape of Hate” and “Condemned To Rot”, the latter of which sounds like a cut from Cytotoxin’s Nuklearth at times with its swirling overdubs. Couple that with slammy riffs and breakdowns all around, and all of it comes together for a brilliant end product that’s one of the best death metal records of the year so far. It’s hard to think of another band that’s aged this much like a fine wine.
I’ll end off by mentioning this: when I finally saw Aborted earlier this summer in Toronto, they opened with a few older cuts before launching into Vault of Horrors’ unreal opener “Dreadbringer”. I should mention they’re an absolute force live, and Sven remains one of the most energetic death metal frontmen I’ve seen in a while. But as soon as the note-perfect performance came to a close, there was a split second silence following the crowd’s applause – you know, usually the cue for a vocalist to ask how the crowd was doing tonight, or something along those lines. But instead, it was cut through by some dude in the pit shouting a perfect distillation of how I felt in that moment:
“PLAY THAT SHIT AGAIN!”
Getting Old, Going Soft; or Jordan’s Just Wanna Have Fun (Jordan)
Every year around this time, I’m typically over-stoked on the huge variety of extreme music releases that get into my sphere. This year is not exceptional in that there’s still a ton of killer shit I need to get around to — and I’m sure I will after digesting this monster mid-year column — but I can’t help but notice my enthusiasm is getting pulled further and further from my heavy and challenging go-to’s out in a variety of different directions. I still got the latest from Vitriol, Inter Arma, and SUMAC locked in amongst my faves, but I’ve become very aware of how much time I’ve been putting into lighter, softer listening. Y’all, this might be what it means to get old. Damn.
Now, understanding how my attention can only be spread in so many directions, I’ve been coming to terms with it rather than hanging onto whatever shred of cred I had left. My appetite for new music hasn’t changed, I’m just making time for more jams suitable for Chill Blog is Chill. Thanks to my wife, Goth Babe has become a staple in my household for the majority of this year, and the latest Flamingosis has been on regular rotation since mid-May. The return of Justice has been a huge win for me, too, it’s a sure thing for any extended commute where I need some grooves. I’m still holding it down on the heavier end of the spectrum with Gost’s wonderful Prophecy, but whatever cool points I’m scoring with that are surely forfeited every time I toss on some yacht-pop perfection from It’s All You, Cowboy or old white guy approved Canterbury prog from Tom Penaguin.
Elsewhere, I’ve hit my stride with some incredible records that dip their toes (or cram their whole foot) in on shoegaze. The latest from DIIV, Mannequin Pussy, Fainting Dreams, and Interlay have been tough to put down, though they’re significantly more reasonable inclusions on a Heavy Blog list. Similarly, I’ve been going big on more punk-forward stuff like The Sleeveens (this one’s all-but inked in on my top ten for this year), VACATION, Teen Mortgage, and American Culture. There’s just something so stupid easy about these records, and it’s not that I wouldn’t have listened to stuff like this before, but they got a serious grip on me in 2024. The country scene has been exceptional, too. Charlie Crockett and Kimmi Bitter’s latest hit the spot for a throwback itch and the eclectic debut from Johnny Blue Skies (Sturgill Simpson) is already a worthy inclusion amongst one of my all-time favorite discographies. I also stumbled upon some Canadian country gems from Corb Lund and Steel Saddle, and it’s a damn shame Sierra Ferrell isn’t from Canada because that’d make for one smooth as hell transition to another fantastic country record.
And like everything, all this pleasure listening comes full circle. I’d be lying if I said anything other than Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol was my most-listened-to album of the year, but how can I deny my lizard brain Big Dumb Riffs? It’s just fucking fun, neck-wrecking, singalong goodness. By the same token, The Monolith Deathcult’s The Demon Who Makes Trophies of Men is a hilariously fun time if not only because of the delicious Mortal Kombat samples amidst their irreverent Dimmu Borgir-gone-industrial/nu metal. Heck, I’ve been so doped up on having fun that I even bought a fucking slam record (99% sure this is a first for me), but how couldn’t I financially back what could be the greatest cover art of all time? Whether it’s old age or me suddenly surrendering to the whims of whatever floats my boat at the moment, I’m just glad I’m having a good time doing it, staying on top of extreme music trends be damned.
Big Sun – Rite De Passage (Karlo)
While writing this piece on a plane, with the deadline fast approaching and no internet with which to check what the others were writing about, I feared that Josh would probably pick Big Sun among his favourite moments. What if he’d already done it, was I ready to risk my efforts being in vain? Then I remembered that I don’t give a fuck who may have written about my boys Big Sun because THIS SHIT SLAPS and I want to write about it anyway.
As Josh mentioned in his recent write-up, Ghost (circa Papa IV) is the main touch point here. However, it’s not that Rite De Passage necessarily sounds like Ghost (although tracks like “You Know You Want It” definitely do), but rather it’s clear that they’re pulling from the same influences and painting with the same broad brush strokes. The Northern European pop sensibilities and synth tones. The schtick that’s wrapped around the music. The unadulterated love of hair metal with simple, but memorable riffs and vocal hooks. Like Ghost, the choruses have very few lyrics: usually only 1-2 repeating lines and never more than 3. This simplicity means you learn the words very quickly and easily, and with choruses this huge you’ll be singing along in no time at all.
Again, to be crystal clear, while Big Sun is definitely FFO Ghost; don’t expect them to sound like clones. There are plenty of other influences on display, whether it’s the occasional sprinkle of King Diamond– or David Bowie-esque vocals, the Muse-like intro to “Maiden Sacrifice”, the peppering of AC/DC stomp in “Directions”, or the best use of cowbell since Don Broco’s “Greatness” on certified disco-metal bangerTM “Stronger than Anyone” – there’s something here for any lover of rock and pop music. It’s only been a week since I first heard the record, but it’s just so damn fun that I can already tell this will land high up on my end of year list. Thanks Josh!
Discovering Tom Cardy (Karlo)
Speaking of fun records, disco-funkers TWRP are back with another one in 2024 and let’s be real, they never disappoint. I dare you to listen to one of their albums and not have fun – don’t even bother, it’s not possible. The standout track on Digital Nightmare is “Online”, a hilarious song with wonderful back-and-forth as TWRP enlist the services of my compatriots Tom Cardy and Montaigne for a tri-vocal fun fest. While I love the record and that track in particular, it also served as my introduction to Tom’s solo work.
If you like irreverent musical comedy that combines hilarious lyrics with one earworm melody after another then look no further – Tom Cardy (often with Montaigne’s help) has you covered! Think Flight of the Conchords or a less depressing Bo Burnham. The likes of “Red Flags”, “Mixed Messages”, and “H.Y.C.Y.BH” have had me laughing and singing along in equal measure this year, with his 2021 release Artificial Intelligence my favourite. If life’s a little too serious right now and you’re in need of some light hearted fun, you could do a lot worse than checking out his work.
“Afterimage” by Northlane (ft. Ian Kenny) (Karlo)
Northlane have been a real surprise packet for me over the last few years, jumping from just another djent-by-numbers band to the very forefront of the industrial-tinged, djenty alt metal that has exploded in recent years. Alien was my joint AOTY in 2019, while I also enjoyed follow-up Obsidian, so I was excited when I saw that they had recently released a 2024 EP Mirror’s Edge. As I hit play I let myself get wrapped up in the warm embrace of those chuuunky guitar tones and swirling soundscapes that I’ve come to love, pleased with what had all the makings of another solid entry into the latter Northlane canon.
Then that inimitable vocal tone hit and I could scarcely believe my ears. Surely I hadn’t accidently clicked shuffle? Could it have changed bands? Surely they had not gotten Ian fucking Kenny sliding in smoother than a spiced rum on ice to share vocal duties? I looked at the track listing and grinned from ear to ear, just as a suitably Karnivool-sounding guitar lead sauntered in with a lovely Middle Eastern-tinged melody. It’s as if they wrote the part, thought ‘hey that kinda sounds like Karnivool… I wonder if we could get Ian on!’ and then actually managed to get him onboard.
As we stretch well into a second decade without a new Karnivool album it just felt amazing to hear Kenny’s iconic vocals on another, heavier new track (sorry Birds of Tokyo, you ain’t cuttin it). The song itself is fantastic without him, replete with a huge chorus, pounding riffs, and lovely effects in the background; but his presence is the cherry on top and one of the best musical surprises of the year so far. Not on my bingo card for 2024!