deep within the fjords, Wild North West is Vreid’s love letter to the place they call home, and their finest hour at that. Though Vreid’s music doesn’t come off as romantic in the slightest, it is the passion fueling their music that really drives the love for their origins home. Be it the stomping, now-signature rock riffs that defined predecessors like Pitch Black Brigade and, more recently, Lifehunger, the melodic, folky black metal that inspired the band’s impetus, or even new-ground ballad “Dazed and Reduced,” Vreid’s multifaceted take on Wild North West demonstrates them to be more than “just a black metal band.” Accompanying the LP is a full-album video that tells a story of a young person’s experience in the “wild north west” of Sogndal’s past; interwoven, of course, with footage of Vreid tearing it up (in traditional folk garb, no less—sweater game strong, Vreid). The idea of an album-length video isn’t a new one, and yet Vreid’s more conceptual approach makes the visuals inseparable from the musical content within. Even listening to the album on its own, I am reminded of the visuals presented in the video with each new song’s introduction (especially the children’s voices that herald “Into the Mountains,” my personal favorite). Visions of mountains, snow and log cabins abound within Vreid’s most ambitious video work to date, and this video’s near-cozy nature (men in sweaters playing ferocious black metal is kind of adorable) makes a perfect foil for the music. What is most peculiar about Wild North West is, even though it’s a love letter to Sogndal’s rugged past, the album itself is in English. Though Vreid have made entire albums in English before, one would think the personification of their hometown would be presented in sognamål. This isn’t a complaint, though—rather a surprised comment. Wild North West’s pride is still just as palpable, even though I personally think delivering the album in their home dialect would have made it that much more special. Either way, what Vreid have presented on this latest album is easily their most potent and varied musical outing to date. —JON ROSENTHAL
AGENT STEEL
7
No Other Godz Before Me CHERRY RED
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…
A decade ago, yours truly was on a ship in the Caribbean early in the day to see speed metal veterans Agent Steel, the dudes who released the classic Unstoppable Force a lifetime or two ago. The trouble was that singer/mastermind John Cyriis didn’t make the trip, and folks were stuck with 6 4 : M AY 2 0 2 1 : D E C I B E L
seeing last-minute substitute Rick Mythiasin reading from a handful of lyrics scribbled on looseleaf paper. It was friggin’ depressing, and that’s the last thing you want to feel when soaking up the blazing sun on a ship in January. Not long after that sorry display, the band went on indefinite hiatus. There’s good news, though, as Cyriis took it upon himself to completely revamp Agent Steel, taking on four new band members, and the crew has releasedt No Other Godz Before Me, the band’s first new album in 14 long years. Bolstered by two ace guitarists—Vinicius Carvalho and 20-year-old phenom Nikolay Atanasov—Agent Steel sound reborn, pulling off rampaging arrangements that rival the band’s best work 35 years ago. Better yet, Cyriis is in fine form, his maniacal screams accentuating the instrumentation like a crazed, speed metal King Diamond. Sure, at times his histrionics can flirt with silliness (the way he enters “Trespassers” bears an uncanny resemblance to the time Apu imitated a hummingbird on The Simpsons) but hell, speed metal has always been a little silly, and the way Cyriis and Agent Steel go all-in with a wonderfully over-the-top performance is huge fun, not to mention endearing as hell. —ADRIEN BEGRAND
BODY VOID
7
Bury Me Beneath This Rotting Earth PROSTHETIC
Tortured hole
It can be both a blessing and a curse when an album’s opening song works as a perfect summation of a band’s style, sound and strengths. Excitement and compulsion are instant, but the second half of the LP can end up feeling like more of the same, to lesser effect. Body Void have developed a good feeling for pace after two self-released albums, an EP and a split (not to mention a wealth of demo material under the name Devoid, circa 2014-2016), but the opening song on this four-track, 52-minute Prosthetic debut remains the high point—of both the album and feasibly their career to date. The sluggish sucker-punch riff compels instant sky-punching on the cymbal crashes, and at just the right moment we’re deviated into a frenzied burst of speed, collapsing into gristly drone-doom piled with layers of troubling noise before stomping to a climax with a riff that sounds like the iron man from “Iron Man” wreaking his vengeance to the tune of “Three Blind Mice.” All four songs run around 13 minutes, each underpinned with an iron spine of a sludge riff, a wandering structure and unfolding
drama, stretching and shifting and mostly staying interesting (especially “Forest Fire,” bubbling with atmospheric melodic nuances, subtle segues hung between primevally basic caveman chords). Side two is, largely, more of the same, but to lesser effect—the noiselayering seems less assured and satisfying, and there are few surprises left. However, it is all deployed with tangible passion and bristling conviction, singer/guitarist Will Ryan popping a temple vein over hot-button progressive issues like climate change and trans rights, all the while sounding like a furious witch shrieking hideous incantations in a thunderstorm. —CHRIS CHANTLER
COFFIN MULCH
7
Septic Funeral
REDEFINING DARKNESS
Bowel burial
A funeral bell. A creak of night-stalking bass. That’s all between you and the coming deluge of feculent filth oozing from Coffin Mulch’s mini-LP, Septic Funeral. After releasing a three-song demo in 2019, these Scottish slime-mongers were scooped up by death metal benefactors Redefining Darkness. The result is a record that splashes in the old-school cesspool like the band’s genre forefathers in Autopsy and Carnage. While the album’s self-titled opening track is a lumbering introduction, “Black Liquefaction” hammers into your consciousness with swampy grooves and a slashing solo. The Swedeath speed-blasting of “Live Again” reveals tireless percussion, which otherwise settles into a slow to mid-paced stomp. After barking the song’s titular command to the troops, the militant march of “Onward to Death” concludes with the crunch of boots in lockstep. At just 47 seconds, “Carnivorous Subjugation” is a literal one-trick war horse riding one riff into the grave. Septic Funeral concludes with a re-recording of their eponymous anthem, “Coffin Mulch.” The song’s creeping rot feels like a redundant bookend that in many ways echoes the funereal tempo of the opening track. While the album’s mix (by Tommy Duffin) and mastering (by Andy Lippoldt) captures the grime promised by Adam Burke’s grotesque cover painting, the songwriting relies on horrors already wellestablished by death metal’s golden age. But Coffin Mulch proudly embody that pustulant charm while unapologetically soaking Septic Funeral’s 20-minute runtime in raw sewage. As Skinless once growled in gross-out anthem “Pool of Stool,” “Here I sit in the shit, here I be in the pee.” —SEAN FRASIER
