Svartidauði release live album "III.XX.MMX"

       

          Well this came out of nowhere.

         The Icelandic BM thugs in Svartidauði have released a live album from a show in 2010 they did with  Urfaust to commemorate the rash of volcanic eruptions that have rocked Iceland recently. The album, recorded the day in 2010 when the volcano Eyjafjallajökull (try saying that three times fast) cataclysmically erupted and stalled air traffic over Europe for almost a month, is exactly what you'd expect it to be coming from Svartidauði - violent, dark, and uncompromising, but what makes this release so great is the band's bombastic press release, posted through their Facebook page:

On the 20th of March 2010, we performed a ritual with our brothers in Urfaust here in Reykjavik. As the last notes of the night faded out the volcano Eyjafjallajökull erupted, causing the rest of the world billions upon billions of dollars in economical- and environmental damage.
So, to celebrate that our lands have again begun to ejaculate fire and toxic smoke we've put recordings of our whole set from that night online. (Source)

         I absolutely adore Svartidauði but this sounds like a mix of something Gaahl and Nathan Explosion would say.
 
         You can stream III.XX.MMX below:



       

Misþyrming continue Iceland's penchant for awesome metal

      Iceland, despite its historical association with the rest of Scandinavia, never really partook in the extreme metal explosion that rocked Scandinavia (or, indeed, the rest of Europe) in the early 90s. Sure, acts like Sólstafir began as rather traditional Viking metal, but within a few years had taken the project in a completely different direction. Indeed, it seems many Icelandic acts are loathe to do the same thing twice - Sigur Rós' experimentations with shoegaze at their inception fused with more pop-minded sensibilities as the band aged - and this trend extends to the country's metal.
      Icelandic metal stands apart from its church-burning-and-corpsepaint-wearing Scandinavian compatriots in many ways. Most notably, and unsurprisingly, is the heady element of atmosphere that almost all Icelandic acts seem to expertly work into their music. For Sigur Rós, this takes the form of dreamy, Slowdive-esque clouds, but insofar as metal acts, Svartidauði, for example, contrast frenetic drumming with sinister guitars to create a nefarious, feverish miasma. Meanwhile, Wormlust's nightmarishly cold synthwork and freezing psychedelia paint a much different picture.
      Enter Misþyrming, an extremely young (as in, formed last year) Icelandic black metal band signed to Fallen Empire Records, who are fast becoming one of my favorite underground BM labels. As of writing, Misþyrming have no material released, with their debut full-length Söngvar elds og óreiðu ('Songs of Fire and Chaos') due October 19th, but have released two tracks of blistering black metal to whet our appetites.
'Söngur heiftar', the album's opening track, echoes Svartidauði's brutal attack while toying with the faintest hint of melody as the drums and guitar surge through catchy combinations - but if 'melody' makes you think Dissection's sorrowful passages, you'll be sorely mistaken. Misþyrming are nothing if not staunchly violent, with the guitar melodies bereft of any sort of comfort.

      Fallen Empire, who just this past year have released two mind-blowing black metal records from Skáphe and Xothist, are well-known for Misþyrming's take on black metal, but this doesn't diminish the Icelandics' skill at songwriting whatsoever - contrarily, it makes me even more excited for Söngvar elds og óreiðu to see the light of day.

      You can stream Misþyrming's two available songs below. 

Falls of Rauros premiere new song - "Ancestors of Smoke"

       

     After a stellar sylvan split with Kentucky bluegrass-BM crossover act Panopticon, Maine atmospheric black metal act Falls of Rauros are slated to return this fall (appropriately enough) with their third full-length Believe in No Coming Shore. The record will follow 2012's folk-y, bucolic The Light That Dwells in Rotten Wood, and the reclusive project has released Shore's first single in the torrential, ten-minute wandering entitled 'Ancestors of Smoke'. Despite the band's Tolkien-lifted name, the style of atmospheric BM Falls of Rauros purvey has always been closer to the airy ballads and primal ecstasy of the Cascadian scene than the wintery gloom of Evilfeast, or the epic synths of Summoning.

        'Ancestors of Smoke', however, sees the band broadening their sonic palate ever so slightly. From the melodic downpour that opens the song, to the rambling, four-minute solo that closes it, Falls of Rauros manage to show off everything their past two full-lengths have taught them, and tying everything together deftly that the song flows effortlessly. If it is any indication of what Shore has in store for us, Falls of Rauros may prove that the forests of the east coast are just as inspirational and mystical as the redwoods of Cascadia.

         Believe in No Coming Shore will be released in October or November via Bindrune Recordings. You can stream 'Ancestors of Smoke' below:

Botanist - VI: Flora REVIEW

           In many ways, Botanist are no surprise. While the concept of black metal played on a dulcimer may turn heads, one listen to Roberto Martinelli's bold project will quickly dispel any misgivings. For the past three years, Martinelli's misanthropic black metal anthems about plants destroying humanity (yes, seriously), painted against the eerie not-quite-percussion of his dulcimer, have explored a dimension in black metal that, while at first requires some adjusting, rapidly makeS sense. Botanist, at its core, embodies the folk-y essence bands like Ulver introduced to the genre of black metal early on, as well as the dearth of atmospheric black metal acts the genre has produced, but at the same time seeks to explore what makes black metal, intrinsically, black metal. Is it the atmosphere? The instrumentation? Both? And by limiting itself to one instrument (besides the drums), thus, Botanist is as much an experiment with unusual instruments as it is a study of what, technically, constitutes the genre.

           Flora, the project's sixth release, continues this trend, and while earlier Botanist records went for a rougher, more "raw" (though hardly in the traditional sense) sound, Flora's glowing, summery colors and layered instrumentals give the record a lush, almost carefree texture. 'Dianthus'' moves flawlessly between spring sunlight and eerie tension that recalls White Light-era Swans, while 'Callistermon' opens with what could almost be a post-punk section. 

         The record features Martinelli's prowess with the dulcimer at an all time high, as he switches rapidly between the more heady attack of Botanist's earlier work and new, starry instrumentation. The dulcimer layers upon itself beautifully, contributing to the verdant atmosphere the record paints with erudite brush strokes. Record opener 'Stargazer' evokes imagery of post-black acts like An Autumn For Crippled Children or Lantlôs, with Martinelli's dreamy dulcimer sweetly and gently easing the listener into the record's bizarre-yet-beautiful radiance, but nevertheless the intricacy of many of Flora's songs is what drives the album forward.

        Flora is an album dripping with its own atmosphere, as much as Alcest's 2009 full-length Ecailles de Lune's ethereal dreamscapes did the same. Botanist prefers not to limit itself to one mood, instead switching between mysterious and brilliant, and there's even a hint of Cascadian mysticism in the closing section of 'Pteridophyte'. But that's not to say all of Flora is effervescent, post-rock like atmosphere. For as much as the record is a departure and a refinement from previous work, Martinelli pushes the attack as the record comes to a close, focusing less on summery textures and on more driving pieces, oftentimes breaking up the marching drums with yawning chasms through which one or two dulcimer notes manage to float through. 

        

        With every release, Botanist explore a new corner of the genre, and with Flora Martinelli seems to be determined to sniff out the essence of post-black metal, exploring the starlit textures that define it, while weaving the massive, peaceful atmospheres that spring up in spite of the stormy drums and howled vocals. Martinelli does a deft job, as always, but between the sheer depth of Flora's eleven tracks and the scope of the experimentation, the newest Botanist outing is the band - and one of the year's - strongest treats yet.