Sunday, April 30, 2017

Single Review: BESTIAL INVASION Repudiating The Power (single 2017) by Dave Wolff

Shellfire Attack
Repudiating The Power is one of two singles released by Ukraine’s Bestial Invasion in 2017 (the other is Camera Obscura). The band's technical prowess and sophistication has developed greatly in three years, and the single sounds like it was arranged by musicians who have worked together for much longer. It's further testimony that a band can start from a rigidly defined genre that was cutting edge to begin with, embellish on the resources they had, discover new means to express them, surpass expectations and evolve, while being constant in observing their roots. Listen to the guitar transitions in the first thirty seconds  and you should see what I mean here. Following this with energetic riffs and solos that mingle thrash, classical and prog-metal with Testament’s dexterity and Kreator’s velocity, Repudiating The Power advances into ultramodern stomping grounds, magnifying the band’s boundaries. The vocals, comparable to Bruce Dickinson and John Cyriis of Agent Steel, are as top notch as the guitar harmonies. Going deeper into the song you’ll begin to hear shades of Fates Warning and Manowar. The chorus between the verses and time changes pushes the intensity along without becoming repetitive. One midsong section depicts a fierce battle complete with sword clashes and explosions, adding an unexpected theatrical edge. A lead harmony with experimental time signatures follows, then a brief section with new  progressions before returning to the chorus and a final harmony section. These arrangements show the profound thought involved in composing this song. Some tightening of the musicianship is in order but the band's ideas are spot on. -Dave Wolff

Sunday, April 23, 2017

EP Review: AKOUPHENOM Flesh Sublimation

Flesh Sublimation
Today I got a great ear smash of music today let me introduce Akouphenom from Coruña, Spain.
This band has some very interesting music in the style of Black/Death metal but I do hear some Black funeral doom in certain parts in their music. The first track Elater Animi starts off as this eerie intro this man is mumbling something like a satanic prayer to conjure up the depths of all hells and the music in the back is frightening like something outta a gore movie.
The second track Absurd Of The Arkhe has a very somber guitar attack the song is sang with patterns that reeks of guttural vocals the band has very good timing with each other making this song sound strong and powerful and, it has unique elements in there approach so many different things going on with time signature's I feel this song should be a graveyard classic.
The third track Upper Cycle Of The Infinitails has a crazy vocal tone to the song almost like an altar of madness approach this song is will make anyone bang their head off very brutal. The drummer is so superb in this song showcasing blast and different drum techniques with tons of changes making this song sound like a thunderous machine.
The fourth track Incorporeal this song is fucking killer has a bit of old school morbid angel influence on this one the solo's and guitar rhythms are just so demonic and so heavy mixed with doom death in it. I love this song I could jam it all day
The fifth and final track is an outro ending this chaotic masterful piece of music for both genre's of many and many others in the underground with so much going on with all these tracks its just so hard to take your ears away from the ear spank this band just gave me today. -Gene Olivarri

Track list:
1. Elater Animi
2. Absurd Of The Arkhe
3. Upper Cycle Of The infinitails
4. Incorporeal
5. Bloops

Poem: 'Trenches Of Mud, Minds Of Hope' by Steven Michael Pape

Trenches Of Mud, Minds Of Hope

The soldiers in the trenches
all covered in mud
the acrid smell of their urine
and the taste of the blood.

Picked off at random
by the enemies gunsight
all trying to stay strong
with all of their

Explosions scatter the body parts
into the trenches
and to each beating heart.

But these trenches of mud
hide a glimmer of hope
in every soldiers eye
behind every gun scope.

There's solidarity you see
and a refusal to die
it's in everyones soul
behind every lost eye.

And all this horror they faced
all with no regret
makes us all remember
lest we forget.

Poem: 'Desire for flesh the Devil can Admire' by Skitz J. Fitch

Desire for flesh the Devil can Admire
Release the beast on the Devils thunderous winds , I could take your life as if a mere whim.
To see the terror in your eye's gives me a state of Euphoria the Ultimate high.
Your screams snuffed out before you begin to cry small lacerations your blood raises my lust to new heights.
Your scent on your skin the sign of pure horror like a drug to me it draw's me in closer.
Your death by the end of this night is what I seek but for now we shall delay as I give you a front row seat.
The taste of your flesh in my mouth like nothing Ive tasted before like the sweetest confectionery creation I crave more.
Just a glint of my teeth and like a blade deep I cut , devouring all evidence as what's left of you decays in my gut.
This is not the end it's just the beginning a Devils path I have been set on that has left me grinning .

Poem: 'Death By Consumption' by Sarah McKellar

Death By Consumption

Through the night,
Cloak and dagger,
Murderous intent,
Stalking with your prey in sight,
Razor sliced throat,
Slashing skin,
Open to reveal what's within,
Ripping instestines,
teeth ripping flesh,
With that complete- let the feast begin.
Pupils dilated while blood runs free,
This is the side the living never see.

Poem: 'Cauterized!' by Rich Orth

by Rich Orth

Not unlike beauty
Is in the eye
of the beholder
Thoughts arise
Flow forth
Well contemplated
Conceived with purpose
Though when delved
into by third parties
Embrace new meaning
Leaning towards new
Connotations undreamt
Vexation of spirit
Perceived as joyous
Desolation of dreams
Viewed as contentment
Toying with vocabulary
Molestation of lexicons
Cheshire smile
As pen becomes scalpel
Intricately slicing
In fervent attempts to heal
Mending surreptitiously
Initially at first
Then outward with
wanton abandon
Carving a scarring path
Ending only when transference
And the bleeding of the ink
Successfully is cauterized

Poem: 'One Night' by Natasa Nikolic

One Night
One night she swept into the room
she knew not how or when
Soon her vision was clear,
a window of the den

Somewhere inside, cold with stones
lay with dozens a candlestick
She did not think, but hurried,
inside to grab him quick
Desire washed up inside her,
she pushed down his chest
Yearning that made her quiver,
seeing the man-made nest

Her eyes seemed like of glass,
and sweeping her hair to the side
He got the same tender treatment,
before her mouth grew wide
She longed for the taste of his skin,
inside there was an itch
He felt an ache and screamed out loud,
soon after came a twitch

He let out a snarl,
to her the sweetest sound
Wishing that music wouldn’t stop,
maddening tunes held her bound

Soon immersed in pleasure,
stretched and began to move higher
Remembered his silky, hollow voice,
burning inside like a fire

Longing to hear it again,
but there only came a noise
The knuckles were white and still,
only the head in a poise

A guttural gurgling of sorts,
she did not have to guess
Before her head had cleared,
the chanting inside progressed

Before a thought was conceived,
startled, loosened her grip
And a single cough was heard,
so she stopped to sip

His chest heaved and sank,
his mouth turned into a grin
The abyss in his eyes now gone,
every night he let her in

Dancing in the darkness,
bodies followed by hollow-sight
Moving to a creaking rhythm,
glancing at the withering night

I raise a glass filled to the rim,
to pleasures of the profane
Neverlasting ages of sunken
dreams, never to seem sane

Poem: 'Twilight 27/31' by M Teresa Clayton

Twilight 27/31

The moonlight behind the clouds
Creates a blue and eerie glow
Illuminating the night
Casting shadows below
And I close my eyes
To all the secrets I know –

Twilight awakens my deepest desire
Your cold touch sets my soul on fire

There's a haze that hangs low in the sky
Painting everything a smoky gray
Intoxicating the night
Calling me out to play
And I listen closely
To the words as you say –

"Twilight waits for you in the meadow
Come, return to me in the shadows"

Wanting is the stench of a man full of greed
Craving is carried delicately upon the fragrance of need

I feel the cool touch of your hand
Against the soft warmth of my skin
Celebrating the night
With the burning within
And I give myself to you
To my deadliest sin –

My twilight paints the evening white
Removes the darkness from the night

Gluttony never satisfies a man who feeds when he can
Savor the taste of the throat of the woman who bleeds for the man

Poem: 'Dirty Sheets' by Laura Petellat

Dirty Sheets

I thought I was a better person than it turns out I am. Is it still depression when you recognize the truth? I thought I'd make the world a better place. I guess I deserve abuse.

Wrap myself in dirty sheets and fall in love with you. Throw myself off this bridge and burn it as I do. I'm not a soul worth the love I recieve from you.

As though it matters, I am here, floating down this lake. The lifeless form the rages on, I was a mistake. So I wade through this pool, drowning, choking blood. Comfort in discomfort. Leave my body down.

Wrap myself in dirty sheets and fall in love with you. Throw myself off this bridge and burn it as I do. I'm not a soul worth redeeming. Dieing just for you.

As black swells around my closing eyes, no lighted tunnel comes. I see your God so different now. I don't deserve his love. We'll never meet again I guess. All the best for you.

Wrap myself in dirty sheets and fall in love with you. Throw myself off this bridge and burn it as do. When you die, I'll be in here, wading just for you.

Poem: 'The Ghosts and Autumn Tambourine' by Kay Irvin

The Ghosts and Autumn Tambourine
Perhaps travelers all in at twilight
Searching for leaves and bed to rest a dream
So I thought, as October's playful child
And I crept the fortress of their lit scene
Flickering candlelight and tambourine
All souls gathered round a high bonfire
They offered flowers kin the May month green
For the cool mist of the changing season
Left the briar thick but the garden lean
Petals showered down from the tambourine
Coven choir sang with arousing voices
For to the depth and all the woods between
I was so captured with rustic beauty
Nearly forgetting the eve, Halloween
A haunting sound fell from the tambourine
Dusky dance and images illusion
Filled my mind but was loving gift to glean
Starry candles illuminated peace
All Hallows stirred shadows, casting forth serene
Chanting, chanting the world and blessed be

Poem: Untitled by Jillanna Babb

I wish I could be beautiful like you are. I wish I could be as brilliant. If only I was perfect as you are, then I would deserve all the wonderful things in life. But I am a monster. I was not supposed to be born. I came into this world as an act of rebellion. Those compelled to love me will grow to hate me over time as they feel themselves empowered beyond my primal magnificence. They will destroy me as they do everything they wish, punishing the natural urge with the pollution of greed. I remain, hideous yet undeniable, because I am real and alive here on Earth, waiting to be ripped to pieces by the possessed revelers under the last bower where the fruit bleeds for our drunken bliss.

Poem: 'Necromantic Dream' by Jerry Langdon

Necromantic Dream
by Jerry Langdon, 2016 

Twas once 'pon a dismal dream
That I woke to terrifying scream.
My blood churned, toenails curled,
Uncontrolably my head twirled.
My mind a mist wrought labyrinth.
Possibly the haunting of absinthe.
Then the wailing returned.
Oh how my head burned.
That scream echoing in it's cavern,
Flowing down my spine; a ghostly cistern.
Flooding my veins with vile fear.
I hoped the alp to disappear.
No time spared, that hope broken
By that scream of terror unspoken.
Congregating unwill strength to stand.
Feet trembling 'twere they of sand,
'Pon my chamber's frigid floor.
Someone or thing released thunder 'pon my door.
An alluring voice begged for entrance,
Fading into an eerie silence.
Long, I stood; Silence grasping my ears
'Til my mind liberated of fears.
'Til my pit nolonger churned.
To beckoning bed I returned.
The blood congealed in my chest
To find myself already at rest.
How could I be here and in my bed?
Am I asleep, could I be dead?
Had I met my untimely death?
Would I test, could I detect breath?
Listening for a heartbeat; something faint.
Pounding stormed against my chambers restraint.
Accompanied by a maddening scream.
I hoped I was but prisoner of a dream.
The thunder 'pon my door
Apocalyticaly shook the floor.
As I neared sanity's fringe.
The door flew from its hinge.
The darkness hither rushed in flailing.
Without question my sanity was failing.
The darkness grasping 'twere it an octopod.
Thrashing like some demon squad
As it engulfed the room and me
'Til darkness was all I could see.

Poem: 'The Fat Feast of Pigs' by James K. Blaylock

The Fat Feast of Pigs
by James K. Blaylock, 3-22-17 

what with the fat feast of pigs
there ought to be an ort to eat,
but alas, they aren't leaving anything behind for anyone else, so we starve,
within our guts begs an unending desire to feed that lustful inferno...
lest the skeletons go limp beneath such weakening conditions, bones
yet, one day, these convoys'll strive for an upper leg, maybe even a thigh,
surely, with the proper amounts of seriousness and gruffness we shall
prevail: perhaps overshadowing their overblown hail and utmost betrayals

Poem: 'We're In The Highlands' by Heather Dawson

We're In The Highlands

How much can I dream
I can dream until asphalt becomes mountains
Until Grey becomes fields of purple
Until someone pronounces my name correctly
Until I smell peat burning in the November air
Until you are wearing the flower of Scotland plaid
Calling to me while the mist rises over the hills
Until you and I are blessed by the priestess
And the broom is jumped
Will you miss the sun
Will you miss the heat
I've taken you away from all that you know

We are Pagans .. We mask our heathen nature
But there we are passionate strong and sly one with earth air and water

Can you be of this place
You claimed it - I can give it to you
We will belong
We will sink in to the marsh
I will feed you whiskey from my breast
And I will love you all the days of my life
I dream

Poem: 'It Has Been Called Asleep' by Eric Forsberg

It Has Been Called Asleep

Life comes in waves
And crashing cycles of desire
Like meat – it bleeds
Like sawdust - it blows off in the wind

I mask my face in clown white all too often
Pull the strings of puppet fancies
And drink down goblets of my own delay
Long before the ax hits wood

but when my donkey comes into Jerusalem again
I will be there swinging palm fronds
And digging fresh young pearls from every oyster I can find
Sublime young pearls – set in alabaster coins
To pay the boatman for my journey
From purgatory to the shores of life

I have been skinned
I have been rolled in salt
My head has hung for what seems eons
On the gates of town
mummified and tongueless
eyes staring into unseen space

Where is my mother earth – with warm and living milk
feeding me to life again?
And green grass growing on my grave to bring my seed into the sunlight yet once more

Oh for the golden solar orb to bake the clay of my desire into vessels for my dreams
Earthen vessels – brown and good – like earth and stone itself – immortal

Give life to ears and mouth and sights yet to be seen
Give life to touch and taste and senses yet unknown
Give life to muscles, organs, nails, skin, and bone
Give life to mind and soul and heart and make them walk
– give life – give life

Awaken trees – know your sentient selves and dance
Awaken waters – clouds – and planets in the sky
Awaken music, art, and all the words of mankind old and all that’s yet unread
Awaken spirits – come awake and breathe again – the perfumed air of all that is alive

I feel blood like wine in veins that once were dry
In flesh that lay once stiff and cold now bursting with desire
In mind once mortified – a single purpose of the shadow worlds – now burning hot
– on fire in its hope
And fingers gnarled stiff and blue - now grasping brushes to paint itself anew

Alive – alive – and once again alive
The ghosts and wisps dispersed
Forever gone
Alive – alive
A hundred voices ringing out as one
Alive Alive
A thousand hands designing all the earth as fresh
And once again – alive – alive

We live
Through the darkness of the day and night
We live – we live
And Music
Oh - my – joy

My joy to return to the world - where anything is possible
My joy
My wondrous joy abounds
A Lilac Streak – across the Earth
My joy
My abounding endless Joy