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MEFITIS savagely ambush with a twisted, diabolic campaign on “Emberdawn”

2019 has seen massive releases and live acts of metal titans, such gods as Blut Aus Nord and the highly anticipated release of quickly medaled veterans Blood Incantation, but there are acts slipping through the cracks of reverence within a tightly knit web of excellent releases. For one, the truly underrated Mefitis, from Oakland, California, with an absolutely stunning and transcendent debut that demands all of the attention that it is missing.

It is shocking that this release hasn’t received the deserved recognition. This entity of two complete newcomers to the scene exploded into it with all of the brilliance and veracity of seasoned veterans. Even more impressive is that the debut LP Emberdawn was both recorded and mixed by the two members of the band, Pendath, and Vatha, and the end result is nothing short of excellent. Emberdawn also features art by Turkka Rantanen, evocative of his works on early Demilich and Adramelech, fitting for the dark and twisted sound of the album.

From the very start of Emberdawn, Mefitis erupts a pernicious tide of riffs, bursting like shrapnel from the oppressive gates of the underworld with “Widdrim Hymn”. Aggressive and untamed guitar parts are broken up intermittently by contorted chorales of chaos, like hideous chants of worm winged angels. Each following song is an impressive recitation of songwriting, nothing is out of place or patched together, not written, but composed, each riff folding into each other, where the sum of all of the moving parts gestate miraculously into one bigger picture. Expert use of pedals and effects are spotted between each song, displaying Mefitis’ accomplished understanding of variance and juxtaposition, as surprises like pianos and keys creep in every so often sinking you deeper into the ambiance. The vocals keep things shifting and well composed as well, with varying screams of different styles complemented by the previously mentioned twisted choruses.

Raw and blackened aggression meet strangely beautiful yet incredibly haunting in a blend that completely defies genre, some highlights of this are the rhythmic and capering riff at the end of “Grieving the Gestalt” or the space fueled operatic section near the beginning of “Timeward Tribulations”. “Obliterating I” contains excellent use of classic black riffs, eliciting images of a darkened castle that is to be stormed by the wretched masses; “Heretical Heir” continues similar motifs, repeating riffs from the aforementioned track, adding a progressive factor to the album, adding motifs to their sound.

Although it is never directly stated that Mefitis aspired to create a concept album, all of the pieces are there, the entirely grandiose atmosphere envelops the feeling of a journey through the Hellenic underworld, you cannot help but feel as if a story is over arching over the album. “Kollosos I” leads the duo of intermission tracks with an imposing intro, similar to an epic poem of old, being shouted directly into your brain by the rattled voices of undead thralls. The second half “Kollosos II”, displays the full range of Pendath and Vatha’s chops, in a sprawling instrumental that encircles you in all of the madness and chaos of a fiery uprising. It is unfair to even try to pigeon hole the shifting moods and movements of Emberdawn, as listening to the album is adherent to viewing a painting, not a single part can speak to another, it demands to be heard and its grip will strangle your mind long after listening to it.


The CD version of this obscure slab of menacing, chaos are available now on CHAOS RECORDS.

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UNDEATH ooze out two demos to redefine the death metal retro resurgence

Within the realms of death metal there are bands that represent the gravely serious depth of darkness to the gut wrenching, puke inducing gore fests, but there must come an entity that blacks out your conscious and sways your body in a violent hysteria. Undeath from New York touts a tight and technical mastery of uniquely New York death metal, relentless and nefarious. Seldom do we see metal acts that genuinely make you excited to listen to music, the kind of stuff that makes you grip your heart and pound your neck, meticulously crafted to suit your primal urges.

Undeath released 2 demos this year, one simply titled Demo ’19 and the other, Sentient Autolysis, and both are justly impressive, although the latter shows a more permanent grasp on their sound in such a short timeline. Immediately the stand out feature of Sentient Autolysis is its soiled tone, distinctively ripe with foul sludge and the stench that comes with it. The vocals are reminiscent of John McEntees signature tone of otherworldly hate spewing from the mouth of a corpse. Undeath revels in the inspirations it takes from rather than recycling their styles, improving greatly upon precedents set. The demo pounds your consciousness from front to back, each song is completely uncompromising and holds your excitement and attention, never dropping a beat for a second.

Aforementioned influences show their faces briefly throughout each track, recalling on why Undeath’s sound is so unique to New York death metal. Descending hammer on riffs on “Enhancing the Dead” and “Phantasmal Festering” are representative of Cannibal Corpse, while the acute and expeditious licks on “Pursued and Consumed” are reminiscent of early Suffocation. “Pursued and Consumed” specifically is the masterwork of the demo, thick with the atmosphere of unrelenting fear. True to the title, the song fabricates an air thick with horror and brutality, making your heart race as if you were chased down by an amalgamation of gore, there is no escape. Sharp grinding guitars near the end of the song signal your inevitable capture, as Undeath masticates your every muscle fibre, the ecstasy of bereavement overtakes you in a haze.

Demo ‘19 is not to be overlooked as well, as it contains the same competent song writing and fire of Sentient Autolysis. The major difference happens to be the production, which is more soiled and raw, but doesn’t detract from the intensity of each track – as the sheer brutality of each song carries the raw nature of the sound. “Unadorned Coffin”, is Undeath’s first act of cruelty on the demo, interweaving melodic leads and technical chugging, breaking up each short moment of atmosphere with blood spattered atrocity. “Ineffable Tumult” continues the unwavering assault, not letting a moment go by to spare your mind from cruelty, until your left with a moments peace from the velocity of Undeath with “Perverted Self Reflections”.

 Do not be fooled; the doomy searing riffs creep slowly, but its foul limbs clamber towards you briskly as the song goes on, forcing you to face the unavoidable aberration of human nature. A sinister keyboard break leads into the full force of the demos wrath, “Archfiend Coercion”, where the songwriting later displayed on Sentient Autolysis comes into its own, each riff curdling together like the remains of human effluence. As the primordial ooze fully ferments itself towards the end, your heart will be gripped with fear, sweat will coat your palms, and the primitive beating will stay compounded in your brain until you listen to it again.


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BLACK CILICE engulfs with a howling density found on “Transfixion of Spirits”

Within the genre of black metal, one which emerged, exploded, and has erupted again, a seemingly unkillable entity, there still lies a pit of utter blackness contaminated by the true and bitter underground plague. While many bands within the subterranean chasm are marred by single weak releases that are doomed at birth, there are eternal bringers of pestilence among them, Black Cilice is a project that reigns eternal in the true underground.

Boasting a hefty discography now 10 years in the making, the still unknown entity is unyielding in the pursuit of true darkness. Deeply shrouded in mystery, all details of the man behind the project are completely hidden, creating a self contained mythos and enigma that gave birth to black metal; it is a force that manifested itself upon the earth – not a creation of mortals. After a 2 year silence, Black Cilice unleashes their fifth full length upon the unsuspecting pawns of his diabolical design. Those epochs seem to have been spent in fruitful meditation on Black Cilice’s sable craft, as Transfixion of Spirits is a complete metamorphosis of his sound. Building upon the songwriting of 2017’s Banished from Time, far away are we from the primitive growling dusk of earlier releases, giving way for a transcendent new sound.

Right from the starting track, “Darkness and Fog”, a trained ear can already pick out the exultant melody, veiled behind a thick smog of cavernous production that completes the atmosphere. Deep within the cryptic mists lies a deeply structured and layered inflection, the boundless rhythm guitar section echoes into empty space, fettered by wisps of guitar leads and the ever sublime bass that unexpectedly begins to take center stage within its hymn like chants, carrying the melodies to a sublime amalgamation, each piece emulsified by the ghastly howls of wind that are the vocals.

“Maze of Spirits” takes on the feeling of claustrophobia almost immediately, bringing you down from the heights of the clouds to the darkest recesses of the earth. The mid section reveals a dirge that is reminiscent of dark dungeons, but with the atmosphere of the spectres that haunt it, intangible and fleeting. “Outerbody Incarnation” returns you right to the lofty world of spirits, filled with malign riffs and otherworldly wails, while “Revelations” wraps up the album in a dark and reflective finale that stirs the evil that sits deep in the hearts of all men.

Although only 4 songs, each is a protracted epiphany replete with grandeur, all cloaked by a shroud of supreme twilight. Black Cilice continues to show why the true underground will never cease, its relentless craft driven by empyrean forces. Hypnotic and all enveloping, Transfixation of Spirits is a ghastly triumph amongst all impostors to the black arts.


IRON BONEHEAD PRODUCTIONS is proud to present BLACK CILICE’s highly anticipated fifth album, Transfixion of Spirits, on CD, vinyl LP, and cassette tape formats.

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CEREBRAL ROT exhumes ancient graves and dives in head-first on “Odious Descent into Decay”

The True essence of death often lurks within more primitive forms, a cruel undying cancer, miasma evolves from the uncontrolled growth of simple cells. Instead of relying on innovating with new ideas, forgotten knowledge can be revived and and refresh our minds on presently unearthed ideas to fill the unexplained void. Cerebral Rot fills that void completely with new release Odious Descent into Decay.

Dredging up forgotten sounds like exhuming a corpse already twice rotten, Odious Descent is both highly original as well as an expertly crafted tribute to ancient Finnish death metal in its infancy. While last year’s Cessation of Life EP was more streamlined yet still vastly punishing, Cerebral Rot lops the skull off the new release with reckless experimentation to create one of the most memorable death metal albums in recent memory.

The opening track bearing the title of the album is led in with an acoustic passage full of dread, an often overlooked key piece to creating a piece of music that is truly off putting and disgusting. What follows is a hideous maze of concrete beatdown riffs, pulsing blows to gray matter, full of excitement deceiving you of the uncharacteristically long running time of the song. The second track is where the crust begins to peel from the polluted mass of decomposition, aptly named “Swamped in Festering Excrementia”, encapsulating the entire aura and motifs of the album. There is little to impede on how repugnant Cerebral Rot can get. After being led to the sepulcher by distorted vocals and a plodding intro, you bear witness to unbridled filth by one of the most depraved riffs I have heard in years. Simple yet brutally effective, the mid tempo guitar is met note by note by the drums, ridding the line between slow and right in the middle. Its uncanny nature gets inside your head and invokes abominable images from the very recesses of your mind.

Many of the vocal passages on these tracks are downtuned and distorted – gory techniques excavated from bands like Xysma and Necrophiliac. This technique hasn’t been exploited this effectively in quite some time within the realm of true death metal, and is understated in how much of a role it plays in creating such an uneasy ambiance. Riffs are broken up by a clever use of flanger transitions, reeking of fear, as if witnessing flashes of a sinister appendage within the grime of the swamp of sewage. Solos often employ an ingenious use of effects as well, tones fading in and out, a living pulsating creature of its own.

Each track follows the diabolical formulae of foul encrusted guitars and bass, drums with guttural nauseating bass pedals and cymbals of sandpaper slid slowly against the skin, and vocals spewed forth like choleric vomit, ripe with stool. Each solo seems to have its own organic feeling, each its own hideous beast, harkening back to Blessed are The Sick era Morbid Angel. With albums like Odious Descent into Decay and other repulsive abominations similar, the apex of what drives them is the perception of overwhelming fetor, one that makes you feel incredibly unsettled in an aura of oxidizing necrosis that you can almost smell while listening.

Cerebral Rot does not need to rely on tricky riffs and dark sorcery, they prevail by spawning a sound that’s both brutally honest and stunningly violent. Every risk they take adds to their decomposing repertoire, excavating every disintegrated corpse of a bygone era and reanimating the repellent dauntlessness of 90’s gore metal. Ian Schwab and his band of despicable gravediggers spawn one of the most exciting and equally detestable death metal albums in recent memory through sheer blight and barbarous mayhem, where straightforward candor shine through the boughs of the cypress of the morass.


20 BUCK SPIN continues its 2019 campaign of carnage, presenting the tumultuous debut LP from this Seattle US death metal outfit

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KRYPTS collapse the veil between life & death with “Cadaver Circulation”

After nearly 3 years Finland’s finest, Krypts, rear their ugly heads, black viscera draining from their maws. A worthy bearer to the popular title “cavernous”, Cadaver Circulation is a harrowing delve into a stagnant black void of decomposition. Taking a somniferous approach to the death metal genre, Krypts newest release transports you to a realm of decay.

The opening of the album “Sinking Transient Waters”, stakes your mind with the rapid fecundity of a decaying bog. The guitars are an organic force, mushing and teeming with disease; while the drums evoke the feeling of porous soil, grounded yet spacious. The speed of the track rises and falls in cycles, bringing the conclusion to a slow crawl that trudges through the rest of the album.

During the second track the lead guitar takes a subdued role in the composition, creating an agonizing dissonance. The bass spews forth a black velvet veil, rustled by boundless vocals. The song “Echos Emanate Forms”, adds another layer to the drumming, one that is rudimentary and often militaristic, complementary to the gruesome funerary dirge, yet not without sporadic impulses. It is all over an uncanny canticle that emulates the process of the intangible becoming tangible, like watching a body rot back to life.

The next two tracks take familiar riffs and twist them into something far more disturbing than the average death metal album, adding miniscule touches to enhance the frightening aura; the devil is indeed in the details. The final elegy, “ Circling the Between”, contains hypnotizing radial songwriting, conjuring its namesake, leaving you in a fog reaching its closure making you beg for more of the never ending spiral.

Krypts unleashes a truly chasm-like experience without any trends that feels truly authentic. Cadaver Circulation is an amoebic and rotten ordeal, seeped in elegiac doom that bestows an elusive model for those to follow.


DARK DESCENT RECORDS is responsible for unleashing this aeonic slab of death metal upon your ears in all formats.

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SUPERSTITION contort the spiritual & mental with ancient forces of death on “The Anatomy of Unholy Transformation”

Beyond the dark caverns of death, the dark and flesh like caves of disease that prevail in death metal as of now, a new ferocious form of bereavement dawns over the blood red sky. This spectre goes by the name Superstition, a powerful apparition that brings plagues by a fiery wind that peels flesh from bone. Instead of relying on the grimey, bass-infused style of death metal, Superstition assaults you with a blackened thrash attack that carries the stench of burning flesh and earth.

Each riff on The Anatomy of Unholy Transformation is a transcendent dance of violence, constantly weaving in and out of a storm of chaos that evoke images of grand war. Unholy Transformation is a fitting title for this absolute monster of an album, as Superstition transcends into a new territory of mastery all their own. Remaining ideas from previous release Surging Throngs of Evil’s Might can be heard, but are vastly improved upon as the riffs are now majestically braided together distinctively to create a punishing atmosphere. Not only has the playing improved drastically, but the production shines with a crisp and clear sound. Shedding the murky demo-like quality of previous albums, (although a sound that can be desired), the cleaner production ultimately aids in the cutthroat riffing and razor sharp delivery.

Superstition commands ideas previously set in place by bands like Aura Noir and Voivod and dispenses them like a stab-wound full of cruelty and malice. Each track melds into each other judiciously, broken up by uncanny keyboard dirges, invoking the spirit of wicked mutation metamorphosing the album into a grand opus of pestilence. “Torn in the Outer Lands” and “Unreclaimed Blood (Phantom Swarm)” are both stand out tracks, one not complete without the other, though despite clocking in at just over 4 minutes each lock you into a trance with a maze of guitars, transforming a relatively short journey into what seems like a 20 minute epic as you get lost and remain dumbfounded by the barbarous incursion.

Superstition’s own transformation is unprecedented, commanding your attention to recognize them as one of the leaders of the genre. It’s almost hard to believe that they are even the same band as they were just one year ago. Kyle Morgan and crew bring past prowess of black realms from foregoing projects Ash Borer and Vanum, two bands at the forefront of the American black metal scene, and infuses it with death metal sensibilities like descending hammer-ons a la Cannibal Corpse, and an impeccable thrash metal punch. To understate it to such simple influences is a distortion of their true might, as Superstition will quickly find their way to the spearhead of death metal as a whole with a completely unique sound that cannot be ignored.

The black winged messiah spreads their wings over the putrid wasteland, and a sky stained red with flames will echo with the sounds of Superstition.


20 BUCK SPIN unveils the debut LP from New Mexico-based death metal entity SUPERSTITION, confirming The Anatomy Of Unholy Transformation to the world on June 21st.

Be sure to catch Superstition’s devastating presence at Covenant Festival V this summer in Vancouver!

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DEAFKIDS defies Brazilian political brutality with pounding energetic chaos on “Metaprogramação”

Nearing the beginning of a new decade, 2020, a year once shrouded in myth, the essence of underground music has been unfaltering in the face of its adversaries; but even as we reach the homogenization of music as a whole due to the inevitable repeat of once revolutionary ideas, even the underground can be affected. To battle this rapid approach, certain bands rise to the occasion – one of them being Deafkids. Proving that old ideas can be refreshed to craft something revolutionary on its own, this high energy noise assault challenges your ears at every corner.

Metaprogramação is steeped deep within traditional Brazilian music, as the intro hails back to ancient times with a deep chant from the most ancient shell pyramids of Brazil, as if coming within the deep recesses of your very blood. The album is immediately sprung into an animated Latin drumbeat that rarely finds it way into heavier music, yet it adds to the atmosphere of chaos and dissolution entirely. The vigorous energy is backed by an aggressive display of noise and indistinguishable robotic vocals, creating an aura of unease, followed shortly by a cathodic pulse that begins to invigorate each blood cells in your stream.

“Mente Bicameral”, is where Deafkids begins to display their mastery of punk music as well, adding addictive and aggressive guitars into the mix, turning all of the signs of your body wanting to move into bursts of galvanized violence, constructing an urge to destroy something bigger than us. Amidst all of the anarchic energy is the ever present psychedelic lull of the archaic chants and languidly deviating soundscape, adding an introspective mindfulness to the assault. The overall experience cultivates itself as a complete rebellion against your surroundings, the system were trapped in, and your mind itself.

Metaprogramação challenges what we know about the new wave of noise punk with an unexplored cultural flare and an intense youthful energy. Despite the lyrical content being mostly obscured behind the multiple layers of noise the album feels political, how could it not, with the looming shadow of Jair Bolsanaro’s wicked hand crushing the country under its grasp.

Deafkids challenge you to take a look into yourself and destroy the walls put around you by the constraints of society, the unrestrained ferocity of youth is only captured rarely in music, and has the ability to make tremors deep within the minds of others. The combination of masterfully executed Latin drumming, callow punk energy, and deviation from the benchmarks of noise music, forge a glance into the true future of underground music, all while containing a relevant commentary on fascism for both today and tomorrow.


Brazil’s Deafkids will release their third album, Metaprogramação, their first studio full-length for NEUROT RECORDINGS.

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FETID putrifies to perfection on the grotesquely complex “Steeping Corporeal Mess”

Digging through the the freshly renewed mass grave of death metal is a slog through gore and refuse, with fresh corpses being dumped in constantly. Among the stench of decay, you can catch a more pungent malodor, stemming from a writhing pile of extremely rotten flesh. The mass seems to move and shift still, ripe with bacteria and maggots, this pile is Fetid. Within its genre, Fetid manages to slither to to the top of the bowl as the most disgusting of it all, with its invariably shifting rhythms that conjure a mass of fluctuating rot that you can’t help but marvel at.

Steeping Corporeal Mess introduces you to its repugnant form with an unsettling sample and immediately presents you with the sludge of peeling off a fresh scab. A slow and intoxicating riff takes hold, ripe with nausea, slowly dissolving your innards. As the riff continues it only continues to get more brutal. Muted open strings are complemented by excellent drum fills, where the kick drums evoke hammers upon your skull and the uncertain time signatures of each bar perpetuate your vertigo. Even as you are exposed by a primitive breakdown with a rotten bass tone, the next next riff displays a subtle dissonance that crawls into the back of your mind and twists your logic.

Each section continues to evolve rapidly, never setting with one mold. This is all due to the brilliant drumming, which carries each rhythmic section with uncertainty, continually carrying the oppressive darkness of the album. The guitar and bass tone are ripe with melting viscera, both deep and distorted, roaring like the bowels of hell, violently ricocheting from one moldy idea to the next – the overall intonation reeking of a murky eclipse. Occasional shrill guitar solos bounce off the walls of the corpulent chambers like carrion banshees, adding an element of terror to the vile odyssey.

The only reprieve from Fetid’s everlasting assault of bone shards and vile entrails is granted in the last song, “Draped In What Was”. Leading with a unsettling keyboard intro reminiscent of classic John Carpenter, the anxiety created is rightly justified by being followed by arguably the albums most crushing riff yet, one that you can feel in the very pit of your stomach and the marrow of your bones. The final slow trudge through the dregs encapsulate the album in a glorious technicolor yawn ripe with blood and tripe.

While Steeping Corporeal Mess may be a familiar listen for fans of similar bands like Undergang and Triumvir Foul, Fetid escalates the repugnance to new levels with an inventive understanding of this barbarous new niche of death metal. Each member has mastered the nuances of the genre, accentuated by dramatic and impressive rhythm changes, creating an intimidating new standard for bands that want to capture the aura of decomposing gore.


20 BUCK SPIN will deliver the horrifying Steeping Corporeal Mess debut album on CD and LP from cult death metal outfit FETID.

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CROWHURST eschews genre completely with the emotive power of “III”

Evolution often comes gradually but sometimes a sudden spark can ignite a drastic change within an instant. Crowhurst’s newest release III is a drastic departure from previous work presented in a tragic tale of lust and failure. We have seen the progression of Jay Gambit’s noise project morph into black metal, but a change this drastic is unprecedented, yet welcome in its brilliance. Described by Gambit as the album “he’s always wanted to make”, III is a gloomy and gothic introspective look into intense obsession and depression. Melodic yet intense, the album has an epic orchestrated sound to it drawing from an almost innumerable amount of influences, defying any set genre while doing so.

The opening track, “I Will Drag You to Hell”, opens with a choir backed by an opulent cacophony of black metal riffs and blast beats played at breakneck speed. It is a fitting opener to set the stage for a bleak journey into the abyss of the human psyche, yet incredibly jarring given the pace of the rest of the album, thrusting you into despair with a daunting momentum. The final lyric “into the earth with lust”, piques your interest into where it will go from here, but does not devalue the melancholic refrains to come.

The song “Self Portrait With Halo And Snake”, is a soothing refrain from the previous violence. With clean guitars over doomed vocals, it recalls the stylings of The Fields of the Nephilim, containing a traditional gothic flair but not without a southern rock influence. The song is a contemplation of the need to dive into despair when all seems to come to dust. The lyrics: “Enraptured, unravaged, falling forever into lust, you are the mirror I stare into, the distant reflection,” commandeer an acute feeling of longing, grasping for an escape from the pain that is ultimately seeded in nihilism. What sticks out here is when Gambit cries “I’ll be twisting my limbs, I’ll be waiting for you,” and “I’ll trade it all away to never see the light of day again”, furthering the theme of isolation, placing all hopes on obsession of salvation from another human being, all while diving into the darkness unabashed.

The next track “The Drift” takes on the form of a more traditional shoegaze sound, guitars drifting and dancing like waves, composed ingeniously. Drifting and glazing over you while you drown in madness, reinstating the delirium of intense depression, driving you insane. The lyrics “A face you can’t remember”, and “walls are stretching, writing on the walls”, bolster the aura of delusion, while the guitars endlessly layer over each other creating an orchestral composition, adding grandeur to sickening hysteria. The lyrics “The watching void, can you hear the whimpers, I will die under you”, drive home the mania, and the song ends in radiant backing vocals as you drift further and further with the song.

“La Faim”, French for “the hunger”, is initiated with a guitar tone that is all too familiar to anyone who is a fan of Celtic Frost, with vocals reminiscent of Glenn Danzig. This is another shining example of III’s shapeshifting form, all while maintaining a consistent theme and mood. The doom inspired riffs are marred with continuing themes of hopelessness, which fits utterly. Lyrics like “I will never know tomorrow”, and “No one will ever want me, No one will ever need me”, convey the acceptance of true loss while contradicting the theme of the hunger, ever wanting more, as is the self obsessed plight of the human being. The droning doom riffs are abruptly cut off by harsh noise breaks, evoking Crowhurst’s vast noise library, once again demonstrating their mastery of refusing to blend into a single genre. Jay Gambit stated in his interview with bandcamp “… Genre really isn’t a thing. Everything is a little bit of everything”. This is apparent in all Crowhurst releases, but III is the truest demonstration of the phenomena.

“Ghost Tropic” is the climax of the forlorn trudge, reflecting upon the gruesome sentiments set previously. Commenced by an alluring yet somber riff and the harrowing lyrics “ I will breathe underwater for you, crawling bone fragments hanging, like the trash I have become, cigarettes are burning, bleeding for the white light, lost all sense of purpose. Compromises, second chances, debts are never under stepped”. The lyrics show the reluctance to step back into the light due to the warmth of the void that they have dug themselves into. It breaks mid riff triumphantly into a heavy passage where it is chanted “there is no light here”, over and over , refusing to accept that there is anything beyond the pain that is present in the moment. This is also apparent in the lyrics “I swear I felt it, something warm, chasing a dragon, just a ghost”, and “Must I shed our skin, orgasmic void”, reaching for something non apparent to pull you out of a despair that was created by yourself, a task that is nay impossible. It is finished by Gambit screaming “Turn it off”, again repeated exasperating the intense despair, reaching for something that does not exist and experiencing the pain of the tangible daylight.

The epilogue of the album, “Five Characters In Search For An Exit” cripples you with a deep rumbling bass tone and a fierce guitar riff violently wrapping up a grim and excruciating experience. Defiant to the condition of mankind, Jay shrieks “In a torrent of glory, we will vomit soon, wearing the noose, just to survive, no mercy, we will be forgotten, nothing will change, we rot, broken life of glass”. This refers to the mirror that we have been staring into the whole time, yet shatters it representing how individuality is ultimately the force that causes us all to die alone. The album is forcefully closed shut with an abrasive four minute noise finale over the howls of “There is no end in sight”, leaving you completely broken in the face of complete despondency.

Each track of III is a genre blending triumph, often leading with softer influences but almost always concluded powerfully with pain and strife. With a massive library of over 87 releases, (most of which are noise albums), Crowhurst sets themselves apart with something completely new, shattering all expectations with an amalgam of styles and an austere message. Jay Gambit’s enigmatic place in the global underground scene is cemented in this release, showing that he is unbound by traditions and can explore any number of themes and styles with grace and power.


III is the final part of a three-album-cycle by Jay Gambit a.k.a. Crowhurst. Released on digipak CD and black vinyl by PROPHECY PRODUCTIONS.

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DEIPHAGO unveil an extra-dimensional source of pure evil on “I, The Devil”

Old demons die hard. Deiphago makes a triumphant return from the underground in a blaze of astral glory with I, The Devil. Long time Filipino-cum-Costa Rican miscreants have an impressive roster under their belt, hailing as early as 1989, but often go unnoticed despite their uniquely blistering sonic assault. Often caught between renowned producers, many such as legend Colin Marston have struggled to properly encapsulate such a dense and chaotic sound, but have found a proper balance in the hands of Kurt Ballou. Instantly recognizable brutality is brought to new highs with a sound that’s appropriately powerful but not obscured in the murky darkness that Deiphago generates.

I, The Devil wastes no time brutally assaulting you with the first track, “Quantum Death”. It opens with a primordial scream from the stars and quickly makes you recognize the depravity and filth you will quickly drown in. The first thing to notice about any of these tracks is Erick Mejia’s completely psychopathic drumming ruthlessly dispatched in a flurry of blast beats and schizophrenic fills. This is perfectly complemented by flesh rending vocals and implacable riffs that hail down like demonic meteors. Each track is permeated by a dissonance that keeps you guessing throughout; not one riff is predictable.

Even with tracks like “Deus Alienus”, which has a classic punky thrash influence, you are always kept on your feet by the insane pace of cosmic insanity. Each solo on the album represents a demonic wormhole that tears away at your epidermis in the fiery rift of Satan, both intensely technical yet enveloped in a swirling chaos that challenges you with teeth bared. Songs like “Chaos Protocols” and “Anti-Cosmic Trigger” delve into the a progressive realm with a longer and connected form, displaying Deiphago’s technical songwriting prowess while never dropping a beat in the eye of the massacre. The final track, bearing the albums name, is a twisted culmination of all the agonizing motifs previously set in place, resulting in a blazing spectacle that leaves you exhausted after your mind has been ground to dust.

Deserved of Kurt Ballou’s signature noise level, Deiphago finally achieves astronomical greatness with the never ending search for the perfect production that compliments their unrelenting sound. Each fragment of bedlam is flawlessly delivered with keen methodology that separates veterans from fresh faces. The final flourish is how an album with such ferociously ridiculous concepts are treated with grave seriousness, allowing you to suspend your belief and dive deeper into the rift. It’s time to recognize Deiphago for their years of dedication and clandestine adherence to their diabolic art, as I, The Devil cultivates bestiality to new levels.


HELLS HEADBANGERS is proud to present DEIPHAGO’s highly anticipated fifth album, I, The Devil, on CD, vinyl LP, and cassette tape formats. The album shall be released on the symbolic date of April 30th: Walpurgisnacht.

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