Back catalogue: Metal

Review: Ever consistent Canadian hardcore punk crew, Cancer Bats, are seemingly set to return with their follow up to 2018's 'The Spark That Moves', which marks their first offering following the departure of founding guitarist Scott Middleton.

With the frenetic thrashings of latest single, 'Lonely Bong', the group haven't sounded this vitriolic or pissed off in the better part of a decade.

From the thunderous title-track alone, it's evident 'Psychic Jailbreak' marks a smouldering return to form with low end grooves and Southern snarl imbued within its hardcore bindings. Cancer Bats have always sounded their best when resembling Every Time I Die getting into a beer-soaked bar brawl with Down, and this could be the fight that leads to a hospital visit.

Review: 2022 saw the unlikely glow up of the one of the most sonically unhinged and conceptually hideous newcomers of recent times - Chat Pile. Hailing from the muted middle-America of Oklahoma City, their debut LP God's Country found itself on many an out-of-place end of year list, with its harrowing concoction of sludge metal, noise-rock and spoken word diatribes based around everything from the opioid and housing crises to first-person recounts of revenge from Jason Voorhees's mother of Friday the 13th fame. In short, it was a caustic, horror-indebted debut about how utterly fucked the US is, and now with their platform and exposure majorly expanded, Chat Pile return to take the entire globe to task for its follies on the deformed, multi-headed behemoth bastard of a sophomore effort that is Cool World. Furthering their signature sludgecore down the mire of audible hubris, yet incorporating elements of swaggering grunge and sultry goth-rock, here the unassuming, deplorable four-piece make their indelible mark on the extreme music underground and make it abundantly clear that God's Country was only the beginning of their Babylonian death chants.

Review: With 2022's God's Country, Oklahoma City sludge metal/noise rock manglers Chat Pile took the underground music scene by the throat and dragged it through the twisted drug addled, decrepit, destitute annals of modern middle America. Returning two years on from their major glow up that saw them land on numerous end of year list that usually wouldn't touch their brand of hubris sonics with a ten foot pole, their sophomore endeavour Cool World trades the initial narrow view of the woes of their home country for the rotting globe at large, taking religion, politicians and narcissistic everyday people to task for their ignorance, malice and docile attitudes which are leading to a culmination of no more cool world for any of us. Expanding their sonic scope to draw on more melodious grunge and sultry goth-rock, while tapping outside production help this time around to make their heaving industrial-tinged noise-sludge bombast even more stomach churning, LP2 makes bad on all of Chat Pile's initial, unsettling promise, with a nauseating feeling that they'll be narrating our end times for as long as there are ears to listen.

Review: Released in 2015, Hammer of the Witches marked a return to form for extreme metal and gothic horror favs Cradle of Filth with its intricate compositions and darkly poetic lyrics. Frontman Dani Filth's distinctive vocals drive the narrative as he explores the usual themes of witchcraft and persecution. The album features blistering guitar work, symphonic elements, and relentless drumming that together create a haunting and aggressive soundscape. Almost a decade on, Hammer of the Witches still stands as a powerful testament to Cradle of Filth's ability to evolve while staying true to their dark, theatrical roots.

Review: Originally released in 2012, the self-titled seventh full-length from Canadian technical death metal legends Cryptopsy marked their second with vocalist Matt McGachy who replaced iconic OG frontman Lord Worm following his return for 2005's career height Once Was Not. In between these LPs was McGachy's introduction on 2008's much maligned The Unspoken King, which saw the band pivot to a more frenetic deathcore style vehemently rejected by their core fanbase. Gauging fan interaction, the apt decision to backpedal on this perceived creative misstep saw a return to their head-melting, dexterous form of hyper-complex, brutal tech-death, allowing the diehards to finally appreciate the versatility and tortured aggression of the new vocalist on a more sonically familiar outing, so much so that it felt only fitting for the project to bare a self-titled moniker. Regardless of vocalist preference, this is undeniably Cryptopsy in all of their nigh-impenetrable, horrific glory.