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35007 - Phase V (IMPORT) (LP)

Deluxe gatefold sleeve.

If youíve heard Liquid and the earlier EP, Sea of Tranquility, you can form some expectations without being way off. However, rather than putting out re-hashed material, the band goes further and delivers an album that is fresh and captivating in its own self. While the overall feel of Liquid was mellow, Phase V feels simply heavier. There is also plenty of variations, psychedelia, even groove. This album is a success on many levels. Not only did 35007 maintain their position by putting out yet another excellent, flawless album, but theyíve managed to fill that void in music that needs psyche provoking sounds, beautiful yet powerful melodies, perfect arrangement and masterful execution. This is the job only 35007 can do. And thatís what makes them and their latest album so special. Theyíve delivered plenty of amazing material and although each of their previous four albums is nothing short of a masterpiece, Phase V might yet be hailed as their best.

Phase V is decidedly more mellow than Liquid and also free of long buildups. It really is a joy to listen to. It's seems to me to have a huge Pink Floyd influence with the keyboards, delicate guitar and stong basslines and of course the intricate layering and effects. If you've ever had any doubt about 35007 then Phase V will wash them away. Pelican? Karma to Burn? HA! Step forth 35007, for you are the new kings of instrumentalism!

It follows in the band's progression from their earlier work to Liquid. It is flowing, yet heavy, and very melodic. A few other things I really like about this album (and band) are their use of tempos and dynamics. The album builds to a crescendo near the end, swelling and then you are let down gracefully by the last track.

Low Stock (under 3 left)
Price: $27.99
A Storm of Light - As the Valley of Death Becomes Us Our Silver Memories Fade (IMPORT) (2LP)

Guest appearances by Kim Thayil (Soundgarden), Jarobe (Swans), Kris Force (Amber Asylum), Nerissa Campbell, and members of Book of Knots, and U.S. Christmas.

Deluxe gatefold sleeve.


By initially combining elements of sludge and doom metal, post metal, and epic ambient soundscape experimental music, with their third album, ďAs the Valley of Death Becomes Us, Our Silver Memories FadeĒ, A Storm of Light have developed even further into a much more potent and cohesive unit with what ultimately is easily their strongest release to date. By embracing musical templates more associated with traditional metal (i.e. mid-era Metallica) and traditional rock (i.e. AC/DC, QOTSA), while still maintaining the bandís forward thinking progressive vibe, ďAs the Valley of Death Becomes Us...Ē presents a more song-oriented A Storm of Light while at the same time, a band that has incorporated a heavier, harder-hitting, and ultimately darker and more crushing vibe to their music. Out of all of his musical and artistic endeavors Graham has been involved in the new A Storm of Light album will stand as one of his most prominent accomplishments.

In Stock (over 4 left)
Price: $30.99
Altar of Plagues - Tides (IMPORT) (CD)



Irelandís Altar of Plagues produced perhaps 2009ís best black metal debut album in the shape of the excellent White Tomb. Drawing on obvious influences like Wolves in the Throne Room, it achieved distinctive results with its rich textures and expanses of desolate blackened ambience, which were allowed to mingle with elements thrown in from leftfield (Watchers Restrainedís Khanate homage springs to mind). Tides picks up where that left off fairly seamlessly (though you wonít find anything quite as unexpected as avant-drone here), and those who wallowed in its melancholy atmosphere will find this as comfortable and unchallenging as a pair of old slippers.

In Stock (over 4 left)
Price: $11.99
Altar of Plagues - Tides (IMPORT) (LP)

Deluxe gatefold sleeve.

Ireland’s Altar of Plagues produced perhaps 2009’s best black metal debut album in the shape of the excellent White Tomb. Drawing on obvious influences like Wolves in the Throne Room, it achieved distinctive results with its rich textures and expanses of desolate blackened ambience, which were allowed to mingle with elements thrown in from leftfield (Watchers Restrained’s Khanate homage springs to mind). Tides picks up where that left off fairly seamlessly (though you won’t find anything quite as unexpected as avant-drone here) and those who wallowed in its melancholy atmosphere will find this as comfortable and unchallenging as a pair of old slippers.

Unavailable (Archived)
Price: $16.99
Austrasian Goat, The - Piano and Stump (Die Hard) (Gold) (IMPORT) (2LP)

Limited edition of only 100 copies on gold colored vinyl. Handmade silkscreen insert. Deluxe gatefold sleeve.

One of the most promising bands, The Austrasian Goat from France combines minimalistic raw black metal with sludge, drone and funeral doom. Evil awesome and beautiful sounds collide with frightening tunes. There is no band around like this. Piano and Stump contains songs originally released on CD-R. Side A contains brand new songs specially made for this release.

Unavailable (Archived)
Price: $27.99
Austrasian Goat, The - Piano and Stump (Green) (IMPORT) (2LP)

Limited edition of only 190 copies on green vinyl. Deluxe gatefold sleeve.

One of the most promising bands, The Austrasian Goat from France combines minimalistic raw black metal with sludge, drone and funeral doom. Evil awesome and beautiful sounds collide with frightening tunes. There is no band around like this. Piano and Stump contains songs originally released on CD-R. Side A contains brand new songs specially made for this release.

Unavailable (Archived)
Price: $27.99
Austrasian Goat, The - Piano and Stump (Yellow) (IMPORT) (2LP)

Limited edition of only 150 copies on yellow vinyl. Deluxe gatefold sleeve.

One of the most promising bands, The Austrasian Goat from France combines minimalistic raw black metal with sludge, drone and funeral doom. Evil awesome and beautiful sounds collide with frightening tunes. There is no band around like this. Piano and Stump contains songs originally released on CD-R. Side A contains brand new songs specially made for this release.

Unavailable (Archived)
Price: $20.99
Black Magician - Nature is the Devil's Church (IMPORT) (CD)



Black Magician's first album, 'Nature is the Devil's Church', is doom as fucking fuck. This isn't your fusion doom, or your experimental doom, this is doom doom - traditional doom with heavy, slow riffs, glacial jams echoing across black tundras, emitted by bearded men, with SGs and Orange amps, playing at fucking Stonehenge. Taking cues from Black Sabbath, Cathedral, Saint Vitus and more recently Electric Wizard, Orange Goblin, and the sadly-defunct Reverend Bizarre, Black Magician are sent from Liverpool to take and sacrifice our children, and I say good luck to them. It's about fucking time. Doom is often seen as a jumping-off point into other genres - funereal doom, blackened doom, experimental doom, drone doom - which means that often, just plain old doom metal is neglected. Black Magician are here to prove that this need not be the case.

Black Magician seem to have cast a spell taking doom back to the time when it meant folk with long hair and flares listening to Cathedral. When mushroom freaks like Acrimony would be given column inches in Terrorizer. Y'know, when being into doom meant you were into 70s rock by default. The thing that really sets Black Magician apart is their use of the organ. Come on, who the hell doesn't like a good bit of fuzzy 70s organ? Brings to mind things like Jacula and other obscurities. They're not afraid to break out of the doom crawl tempo either. Basically, this is the real deal when it comes to doom. Loads of Black Sabbath and other old-fashioned doom riffage, fuzzy organs, long hair, hammer horror-esque lyrics about medieval England, flares, skulls. The song writing is spot on and so is the production. It's everything you want in a doom album.

Maybe itís the cultural remnants of the Second Pandemic, but thereís just something even more miserable about classic British doom. The five-piece Black Magician released their debut album, Nature is the Devilís Church, and throughout the recordís five tracks, the band capture the eerie stillness of a rolling English countryside, the ancient malevolence of pagan Christianity, and a healthy doses of Cathedral and Celtic Frost, comporting with long-forgotten demons and tried and true tonal weight.

Low Stock (under 3 left)
Price: $15.99
Burning Star Core - The Very Heart of the World (CD)

Limited edition of only 1000 copies.

The Very Heart of the World is only Yeh's second widely available release, but its weary-eyed demeanor was forged over the course of a decade in the trenches. Yeh's scabrous creations recall Matthew Bower's work as Skullflower, but somehow they sound even more desolate -- like the works of Rachmaninoff dredged through the dust and clay of the rust belt. This time out, Yeh has enlisted members of Wolf Eyes, Hair Police and Von Hemmerling to help do his dirty bidding, and the additional firepower serves his compositions well: his mates' burbling tape loops, funereal organ dirges and scathing blasts of power electronics fill the gaps between Yeh's effects-laden violin, guitar and gong.

While each of the album's four compositions is built upon layers of mind-melting drone and descending arpeggios, Yeh is careful never to bore his haywire vessels into the ground, adding layers of molten feedback and carefully chosen (if utterly demented) melody lines to weave their way through the debris. If you're thinking that nothing on Earth can possibly sound as demonically austere as this, think again. Subtlety has never been Yeh's forte, and while the methods he uses to bend sound into terrifying new shapes are often beguiling, they're never the least bit beautiful. The Very Heart of the World is an ironically fitting title for an album that has no pulse, no feeling and no animus. It's unlikely to endear itself to many listeners, but it's backbreaking, often hideous forty minute trek that proves that human beings have only just scratched the surface of what sound can accomplish -- or in some cases, demolish.

The Very Heart of the World, Burning Star Core has created an incredibly heavy record, built on dense, layered drones, pulses, splintered vocals, and deep rhythms that euphorically build to total overload. With a lineup including the Hair Police front line and other luminaries from across the exploding Midwestern psych/noise underground, C. Spencer Yeh has assembled a group that seamlessly shifts through epic movements and pushes pure rock energy to undeniable, massive sound. Expanding on what was hinted at on the collaboration LP with Comets on Fire earlier this year, The Very Heart of the World is a definitive statement of the evolving Burning Star Core sound.

Unavailable (Archived)
Price: $15.99
Burning Star Core - The Very Heart of the World (LP)

Limited edition of only 500 copies.

The Very Heart of the World is only Yeh's second widely available release, but its weary-eyed demeanor was forged over the course of a decade in the trenches. Yeh's scabrous creations recall Matthew Bower's work as Skullflower, but somehow they sound even more desolate -- like the works of Rachmaninoff dredged through the dust and clay of the rust belt. This time out, Yeh has enlisted members of Wolf Eyes, Hair Police and Von Hemmerling to help do his dirty bidding, and the additional firepower serves his compositions well: his mates' burbling tape loops, funereal organ dirges and scathing blasts of power electronics fill the gaps between Yeh's effects-laden violin, guitar and gong.

While each of the album's four compositions is built upon layers of mind-melting drone and descending arpeggios, Yeh is careful never to bore his haywire vessels into the ground, adding layers of molten feedback and carefully chosen (if utterly demented) melody lines to weave their way through the debris. If you're thinking that nothing on Earth can possibly sound as demonically austere as this, think again. Subtlety has never been Yeh's forte, and while the methods he uses to bend sound into terrifying new shapes are often beguiling, they're never the least bit beautiful. The Very Heart of the World is an ironically fitting title for an album that has no pulse, no feeling and no animus. It's unlikely to endear itself to many listeners, but it's backbreaking, often hideous forty minute trek that proves that human beings have only just scratched the surface of what sound can accomplish -- or in some cases, demolish.

The Very Heart of the World, Burning Star Core has created an incredibly heavy record, built on dense, layered drones, pulses, splintered vocals, and deep rhythms that euphorically build to total overload. With a lineup including the Hair Police front line and other luminaries from across the exploding Midwestern psych/noise underground, C. Spencer Yeh has assembled a group that seamlessly shifts through epic movements and pushes pure rock energy to undeniable, massive sound. Expanding on what was hinted at on the collaboration LP with Comets on Fire earlier this year The Very Heart of the World is a definitive statement of the evolving Burning Star Core sound.

Unavailable (Archived)
Price: $15.99
Conan - Monnos (Green) (IMPORT) (LP)

Limited edition on opaque lime green vinyl. Deluxe gatefold sleeve.

Monnos sounds fucking gorgeous. Every vibrating string delivers a forceful oomph that puts more strain on your breadbasket than a camelís kick in the gut. Every instrument seems to fill a huge space without smothering each other in the process. Interestingly, the most engrossing individual contribution of the album comes in the form of a furious backbeat, courtesy of the drummer Paul OíNeill, whose skin-bashing abilities are put into full use, resulting in one of the most intense drum performances youíve ever heard on a stoner / doom record. It really doesnít get more explosive than this, especially within the narrow margins of these tempos. Also, one of the absolute highlights of Monnos are the vocals that combine low and high pitched melodic yells (think of a less boozed-up, less outlandish version of the trademark Urfaust wail) which take a backseat in the mix, creating an impression of a distant warcry emerging from the midst of a ten-thousand strong legion of miscreants.

With the aforementioned grassy mix of ingredients, the most obvious and lazy reference for Conanís sound would be Ufomammut without the thorough-going psychedelia, if only for the fact that both bands have the ability to turn an awfully simplistic, power chordy affair into an impressive mini-epic by the power of the guitar tone. Unlike the Italian outift, though, this UK trio is not there yet in terms of making every second matter. As an outfit who rather stomps ahead than crawls on all fours (believe me, this is some extremely hard-hitting stuff), Conan effectively steers clear from backsliding into pointless droning.

Monnos contains very little of anything that lends itself to worthy criticism. By and large, Conanís debut is already of such high quality that it would be outright arrogant to try to make a serious claim about it being lacking in some respects.

Unavailable (Archived)
Price: $26.99
Conan - Monnos (White) (IMPORT) (LP)

Limited edition on white vinyl. Deluxe gatefold sleeve.

Monnos sounds fucking gorgeous. Every vibrating string delivers a forceful oomph that puts more strain on your breadbasket than a camelís kick in the gut. Every instrument seems to fill a huge space without smothering each other in the process. Interestingly, the most engrossing individual contribution of the album comes in the form of a furious backbeat, courtesy of the drummer Paul OíNeill, whose skin-bashing abilities are put into full use, resulting in one of the most intense drum performances youíve ever heard on a stoner / doom record. It really doesnít get more explosive than this, especially within the narrow margins of these tempos. Also, one of the absolute highlights of Monnos are the vocals that combine low and high pitched melodic yells (think of a less boozed-up, less outlandish version of the trademark Urfaust wail) which take a backseat in the mix, creating an impression of a distant warcry emerging from the midst of a ten-thousand strong legion of miscreants.

With the aforementioned grassy mix of ingredients, the most obvious and lazy reference for Conanís sound would be Ufomammut without the thorough-going psychedelia, if only for the fact that both bands have the ability to turn an awfully simplistic, power chordy affair into an impressive mini-epic by the power of the guitar tone. Unlike the Italian outift, though, this UK trio is not there yet in terms of making every second matter. As an outfit who rather stomps ahead than crawls on all fours (believe me, this is some extremely hard-hitting stuff), Conan effectively steers clear from backsliding into pointless droning.

Monnos contains very little of anything that lends itself to worthy criticism. By and large, Conanís debut is already of such high quality that it would be outright arrogant to try to make a serious claim about it being lacking in some respects.

Unavailable (Archived)
Price: $26.99
Conan - Monnos (White/Blue) (IMPORT) (LP)

Limited edition repress on white and blue marble colored vinyl. Deluxe gatefold sleeve.

Conan are as heavy as interplanetary thunder amplified through the roaring black hole anus of Azathoth. A three piece, in the grand tradition of many amazing fabulous three pieces that hold a tight line and an iron-grip command over the uber-synchronised chord changes and tempo-shifts of the holy trio of bass, drums and guitar. Two men have the task of vocalising wretched thoughts over the turgid weight of Conan. They bear it well, for the task is immense. Conan have committed their filthy, ocean-sized sound to wax (and the slightly less cvlt compact disc) twice thus far- with more fetid output always on the horizon. First came the hulking mass of debut album Horseback Battle Hammer (Throne, Aurora Borealis), followed by a split with like-minded sludge-lords, Slomatics (Head of Crom, Burning World).

Low Stock (under 5 left)
Price: $25.99
Conan/Slomatics - Split CD (IMPORT) (CD)



Slow motion syrup drip from across the sea by way of Conan and Slomatics, a crushing unity of minimalist rock throb harnessing the dwarfing power of distorted bass. Like a beamed in message from some transdimensional epoch since past, the warping haze of the sludge whipped up here casts a spell of goopy obliteration aimed directly at the quivering flesh. Skin trickles and sloughs, exhaustion creeps in, and the glaring cough of the sun drenches your eyes as you helplessly gaze across a dead, wretch desertscape. Make no mistake-the cover art here is fucking spectacular. But the music contained within more than fulfills the promise made by the accompanying inks and colors.

Conan open the set with three tracks of their meandering, quasi-hypnotic stripped down approach to the low end. Here the band dials in on a narrow wavelength and stays true to the path defined by their previous work. Slow, lurching melodic basslines, jazz-inflected drums that skip, stutter, and lope drunkenly across your ears, and a scathing vocal that owes far more to Tom Araya's aesthetic than anything even approaching melody. Imagine Kyuss sans guitar, given over completely to the sanctifying tone of pulsing bass amplification, and you're getting there. Take all the overt heaviness out of that and you're left with nothing but the idea, and that's where Conan thrive. There's an aura of restraint in Conan's work that yields something akin to mesmerization, a willingness to allow the band more space than you'd give your average doom merchants or sludge slingers. There's a touch here, something delicate amidst the crumbling, driven fury.

As good as Conan's slaying side is, Slomatics takes it further out and does it a tweak better. The band traffics in a slow motion gruel that hearkens their Irish rock roots (the melodious harmonization of Thin Lizzy) and throws them against the belligerence of abrasive contemporaries like the Electric Wizard or Bunkur. Whatever room to breathe was afforded by Conan is completely vacuumed out by Slomatics, who erect a veritable wall of bruising distortion and thudding, aching drum terror. The vocals are an echoed out wreckage of void, a faraway cry of disgust and contempt, like the reverbations of a lunatic in the hollows of space. Slomatics favor a tongue in cheek classicism that isn't afraid to indulge in the approximation of solo guitar heroism or the grandiosity of compositional excess (again ala Thin Lizzy); somehow they're able to transform those tropes into something that sounds like it belongs in the annals of doom without taking itself so horribly serious.

Low Stock (under 5 left)
Price: $14.99
Conan/Slomatics - Split LP (Blue) (IMPORT) (LP)

Limited edition on blue vinyl.

Slow motion syrup drip from across the sea by way of Conan and Slomatics, a crushing unity of minimalist rock throb harnessing the dwarfing power of distorted bass. Like a beamed in message from some transdimensional epoch since past, the warping haze of the sludge whipped up here casts a spell of goopy obliteration aimed directly at the quivering flesh. Skin trickles and sloughs, exhaustion creeps in, and the glaring cough of the sun drenches your eyes as you helplessly gaze across a dead, wretch desertscape. Make no mistake-the cover art here is fucking spectacular. But the music contained within more than fulfills the promise made by the accompanying inks and colors.

Conan open the set with three tracks of their meandering, quasi-hypnotic stripped down approach to the low end. Here the band dials in on a narrow wavelength and stays true to the path defined by their previous work. Slow, lurching melodic basslines, jazz-inflected drums that skip, stutter, and lope drunkenly across your ears, and a scathing vocal that owes far more to Tom Araya's aesthetic than anything even approaching melody. Imagine Kyuss sans guitar, given over completely to the sanctifying tone of pulsing bass amplification, and you're getting there. Take all the overt heaviness out of that and you're left with nothing but the idea, and that's where Conan thrive. There's an aura of restraint in Conan's work that yields something akin to mesmerization, a willingness to allow the band more space than you'd give your average doom merchants or sludge slingers. There's a touch here, something delicate amidst the crumbling, driven fury.

As good as Conan's slaying side is, Slomatics takes it further out and does it a tweak better. The band traffics in a slow motion gruel that hearkens their Irish rock roots (the melodious harmonization of Thin Lizzy) and throws them against the belligerence of abrasive contemporaries like the Electric Wizard or Bunkur. Whatever room to breathe was afforded by Conan is completely vacuumed out by Slomatics, who erect a veritable wall of bruising distortion and thudding, aching drum terror. The vocals are an echoed out wreckage of void, a faraway cry of disgust and contempt, like the reverbations of a lunatic in the hollows of space. Slomatics favor a tongue in cheek classicism that isn't afraid to indulge in the approximation of solo guitar heroism or the grandiosity of compositional excess (again ala Thin Lizzy); somehow they're able to transform those tropes into something that sounds like it belongs in the annals of doom without taking itself so horribly serious.

Unavailable (Archived)
Price: $23.99
Conan/Slomatics - Split LP (White) (IMPORT) (LP)

Limited edition on white colored vinyl.

Slow motion syrup drip from across the sea by way of Conan and Slomatics, a crushing unity of minimalist rock throb harnessing the dwarfing power of distorted bass. Like a beamed in message from some transdimensional epoch since past, the warping haze of the sludge whipped up here casts a spell of goopy obliteration aimed directly at the quivering flesh. Skin trickles and sloughs, exhaustion creeps in, and the glaring cough of the sun drenches your eyes as you helplessly gaze across a dead, wretch desertscape. Make no mistake-the cover art here is fucking spectacular. But the music contained within more than fulfills the promise made by the accompanying inks and colors.

Conan open the set with three tracks of their meandering, quasi-hypnotic stripped down approach to the low end. Here the band dials in on a narrow wavelength and stays true to the path defined by their previous work. Slow, lurching melodic basslines, jazz-inflected drums that skip, stutter, and lope drunkenly across your ears, and a scathing vocal that owes far more to Tom Araya's aesthetic than anything even approaching melody. Imagine Kyuss sans guitar, given over completely to the sanctifying tone of pulsing bass amplification, and you're getting there. Take all the overt heaviness out of that and you're left with nothing but the idea, and that's where Conan thrive. There's an aura of restraint in Conan's work that yields something akin to mesmerization, a willingness to allow the band more space than you'd give your average doom merchants or sludge slingers. There's a touch here, something delicate amidst the crumbling, driven fury.

As good as Conan's slaying side is, Slomatics takes it further out and does it a tweak better. The band traffics in a slow motion gruel that hearkens their Irish rock roots (the melodious harmonization of Thin Lizzy) and throws them against the belligerence of abrasive contemporaries like the Electric Wizard or Bunkur. Whatever room to brea he was afforded by Conan is completely vacuumed out by Slomatics, who erect a veritable wall of bruising distortion and thudding, aching drum terror. The vocals are an echoed out wreckage of void, a faraway cry of disgust and contempt, like the reverbations of a lunatic in the hollows of space. Slomatics favor a tongue in cheek classicism that isn't afraid to indulge in the approximation of solo guitar heroism or the grandiosity of compositional excess (again ala Thin Lizzy); somehow they're able to transform those tropes into something that sounds like it belongs in the annals of doom without taking itself so horribly serious.

Low Stock (under 5 left)
Price: $25.99
Gnaw Their Tongues - All The Dread Magnificence of Perversity (IMPORT) (2LP)

Deluxe gatefold sleeve. Includes 3 bonus tracks.

The sound here is sunk in a bottomless pit of murkiness, creating a pulse of hideous sub end noise. There is a cold, clanking precision about the music at times which bears a resemblance to the early work of Swans. We also get some downright sludgy slides and other Eyehategod/Grief-like sub-end plodding, minus the Southern tinges and drug-infused aesthetic. This stuff is not for fans of polished, melodic "atmospheric" music and the like. It's for those who want the ugliest most violent stuff available.

Unavailable (Archived)
Price: $20.99
Gnaw Their Tongues - An Epiphanic Vomiting of Blood (Color) (IMPORT) (LP)

Limited edition on white vinyl!!

This is convulsing, wretched torture just waiting to skitter its contorted dance out of your speakers and into the soft recesses of your mind. Pounding, scratching, and moaning, Gnaw Their Tongues envelop the listener in the stained horror of an eternity of murder. There are no shambling puppets of death, no erotic specters of the dark to be found here - only the sickest thoughts of homicide crashing about inside a mind most consumed with the passions of hate. This is for lovers of dark ambient, industrial noise, black metal, and the sick that is tucked far away from the sun. Serial killers seem to be a majour inspiration for the band, and I'm sure Ed Gein would be proud of this tribute to him.

It's not often you hear music as nihilistic and misanthropic as Netherlands-based black metal/noise/dark ambient artist Gnaw Their Tongues. As a one man project conceived/formed around 2000-2002 by sound terrorist Moires, this unsettling and often deeply disturbing blend of the extremes defies just about every musical convention twisting its industrialised black metal body into something that serves to terrify all into bloody submission.

Unavailable (Archived)
Price: $20.99
Gnaw Their Tongues - An Epiphanic Vomiting of Blood (IMPORT) (LP)

Limited edition of only 500 copies!

This is convulsing, wretched torture just waiting to skitter its contorted dance out of your speakers and into the soft recesses of your mind. Pounding, scratching, and moaning, Gnaw Their Tongues envelop the listener in the stained horror of an eternity of murder. There are no shambling puppets of death, no erotic specters of the dark to be found here - only the sickest thoughts of homicide crashing about inside a mind most consumed with the passions of hate. This is for lovers of dark ambient, industrial noise, black metal, and the sick that is tucked far away from the sun. Serial killers seem to be a majour inspiration for the band, and I'm sure Ed Gein would be proud of this tribute to him.

It's not often you hear music as nihilistic and misanthropic as Netherlands-based black metal/noise/dark ambient artist Gnaw Their Tongues. As a one man project conceived/formed around 2000-2002 by sound terrorist Moires, this unsettling and often deeply disturbing blend of the extremes defies just about every musical convention twisting its industrialised black metal body into something that serves to terrify all into bloody submission.

Unavailable (Archived)
Price: $18.99
Gnaw Their Tongues - For All Slaves a Song of False Hope (IMPORT) (CD)



Gnaw Their Tongues latest offering "For All The Slaves A Song Of False Hope" begins with a beautiful chamber melody that morphs into an LSD-drenched nightmare of doomic foreshadowing, eventually leaving the listener stranded on Dante's outer circle of hell cold, alone and afraid. As the gray mists swirl, ghosts of pure hatred begin to scream directly into your cerebral cortex and the chamber orchestra is taken over by madness and pure evil. You feel nausea, uncertainty and despair. Welcome to the damaged and distressing world of Gnaw Their Tongues.

This theme of insanity buttressed by orchestral bombast is the signature sound of "For All te Slaves..." and takes Gnaw Their Tongues in a direction that mixes in more pleasing sounds with his usual miasma of horror and suffering. Sound comparisons might be made with Esoteric, Stalaggh and Abruptum but the music of Gnaw Their Tongues is a chaotic tapestry riven with sickness and evil that is unique in the world of extreme metal. Spoken word samples and literal screams of despair comingle with doom and post-industrial soundscapes while sweeping orchestral gestures are subsumed by layers of manic black metal psychedelia.

Just as there are no accurate comparisons for Gnaw Their Tongues there is also no way to avoid the psychological impact of this record. It will find your vulnerabilities and punish them mercilessly. Prepare to enter the darkness of your mind.

Unavailable (Archived)
Price: $13.99
   
 
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