Most people I talk to “can’t believe it’s July already” - I feel like January was an aeon ago. Why is my perception of time so slowed compared to others? I have no idea. I know the older we get the faster time relative to our younger years feels… but it just doesn’t. Perhaps its because I write in a journal each day and the growing tower of time past can be seen and held, unlike memory. With so many great new releases (and back catalogue acquisitions) this six stacker has been a doozy!
Dark Forest - Oak, Ash, & Thorn
Cruz Del Sur (2020)
This album opens with lapping sounds of a babbling brook and trilled lute (or the closest impression thereof.) Oh fuck, another Wishbone Ash clone we’d be inclined to think - and you’re pretty much spot on. However, these West Midlands renfaire enthusiasts (featuring ex-Cloven Hoof and Wytch Hazel members) sit in this enviable slot of balls-out Hammerfall-ian medieval cock and ball torture and, well, in my humble opinion, what Iron Maiden ought to sound like right now. I’m not saying lead vocalist Josh Winnard is doing his best Air Raid Siren impression, far from it. He barely flirts with tenor, feeling more baritone for most of the record. Hailing from ol’ Blighty, he carries that timbre of Bah-roose, clean, clear, and proper English innit. Where as Maiden muck about with history (remember Senjutsu? Yeah me either) Dark Forest are all about the myths and tales of yore. Galloping with a sturdy clip and whinnying twin leads, Wayfarer’s Eve betrays a bunch of obscure graying long hairs swaying on stage to the amazement of all doubters.
The Midnight Folk might have you believing this is a long lost Dickinson solo track or Maiden B-side. It too has that one-and-a-half step riffery and lyrical call-and-return choruses, all trademarks of Iron Maiden Holdings, LLC. It’s as if the band deconstructed and reassembled what made Maiden great and brought it lovingly into the 21st Century, considering the OGs couldn’t do it themselves (after Dance of Death, I don’t think they have.) There’s mile-high heapings of dad rock (a bluesy Relics) and semi-demi Celtic rock epic in the form of their title track, a monumental 11-minute marathon of maypole rounds and dazzling solos, carrying us back to ancient thymes. I felt so torn comparing them to Maiden, but fuck me - I’d much rather this than their recent output.
King Diamond - “Them”
Roadrunner/Metal Blade (1988)
King Diamond is the great barrier for real trve metal worship - if you think he’s as stupid as the Icon Sting or Freddy Krueger, there’s just no way you will ever buy into heavy metal writ large. You don’t have to accept King Diamond as high art; you just have to live through his Majesty and this tortured tale of his Grandma slipping into murderous madness. Part ringmaster and part storyteller, King Diamond narrates as his band, led by the legendary guitarist Andy LeRoque and Mikkey Dee on drums, build up the appropriate suspense and tension through riff and lead. Considering this came out the same year as Operation: Mindcrime, a high-concept album since hailed as “cinematic”, “Them” is just as cinematic; don’t think Martin Scorsese or Brian DePalma, think Sam Raimi or George Romero. It’s low-rent theatre of the mind, but just as gory and effective. King’s trademark shrieks and guttural laments, such as creeping through Tea are like pumps of ketchup over latex in a shoestring budget slasher. Isn’t that kind of the point? It’s a celebration of horror excess and exploitation (can you imagine a real grandmother doing all this shit on screen?). King Diamond gives you the setting (the unsettling Bates-style manor on the front) and you fill in the visual blanks. If you don’t get it after half a listen, you probably never will.
Testament - Para Bellum
Nuclear Blast Records (2025)
When first attack For The Love of Pain hits, its like a cross/jab of fury from the double Skolnick/Peterson barrel. Chuck Billy gurgles in lower register, latched to death metal instead of their traditional Ameri-thrash. It rips us a damn new one. Drumsman Chris Dovas flies at mach speed on the double kick and I’m left wondering when exactly Testament grew an extra set of stones. High and wailing leads take hold on Chuck Billy’s grinder against artificial intelligence, Infanticide A.I., an unrelenting wave in the riff blitz. Shadow People is a (relative) mid-pacer, cutting Megadeth’s lead-driven lunch and eating it (I haven’t even heard their “last” album yet. I kinda don’t want to.) Meant to Be is their stock standard ballad - insert ponderous acoustic here, attach maudlin clean singing here - and it'll be a cig lighter/flashlight waver for sure. A pat of the chest and a prayer sign mouthed “thank you.” High Noon is all galloping and guns blazing, storytelling being a cornerstone of how this album plays out. Their Motörhead worshipping Nature of the Beast recalls how gambling can become a problem real fast; meaty lixx and ‘uge chorus of Havana Syndrome telling the tale of the affliction of the same name, where people (allegedly) became sick after hearing loud sounds (allegedly) created by directed-energy weapons. It’s kind of like their Hangar 18 excised of guitarist self-indulgence. As I’ve discussed with friends, Testament can make really really good albums but they just don’t have the secret sauce to crack into “truly great.” This verges on the latter, especially for just how memorable some of the tracks are.
Sindar - Splintered Light
Independent (2020)
A metal band doing Lord of the Rings? Sorry boss, but Blind Guardian perfected that back in the 90s and we haven’t looked back. Salt Lake City, UT’s Sindar doesn’t crib BG, Gandalf, Elvenking, Summoning… the list goes on. At all. It’s a new, yet fitting take on Tolkien in metal. Believe it or not.
First track Ainulindalë feels more like if Oceansize or Amplifier argued their case to rule Middle-Earth, with trilled guitars and meandering vocal melodies wafting over Shire hinterlands. (Does he mean New Zealand?) The Rise of the Uruk-Hai bubbles and toils with trouble in a minimalist, shoegaze cauldron, whispers of the Orcs gathering to full death metal force by the end. They can do Uriah Heep or Jethro Tull style folk, swaying about in The Horse Lords. Just like the extended cut of the films, The Fellowship forms half-way through the album, drenched in crunchy guitars and introverted howls as if they were college rockers. Nine-minuter The Evenstar is Opeth on valium, seguing into an equally challenging and satisfying seventeen-minute Master of Fate. This album is so packed full of nuance and novelty it’s hard to figure out where the metal begins and the prog ends - that’s what makes it such an essential listen. Their next record is just as great; though I can imagine purists getting rubbed the wrong way. In which case, fuck ‘em.
KREATOR - Krushers of the world
Nuclear Blast Records (2026)
Teutonic chronic misspellers Kreator stuck to the Star Trek movie franchise rule since 2001’s Violent Revolution, except every even numbered album has been shit. Enemy of God sucked compared to Hordes of Chaos; Phantom Antichrist felt lacklustre sat next to Gods of Violence. Hate Über Alles wasn’t so crash hot, therefore Krushers of the World… must be good? Seven Serpents marches in just like one of their live shows, thundering double kicks girding triumphant riffs, Mille rousing chant-alongs, snarling “Snakes in human form!” over and over. I wonder who he might be talking about? Satanic Anarchy barrels in with an expansive wall of sound, taking cues from modern thrashers ala Arch Enemy yet remaining steadfast in that staccato, machine-gun Kreator delivery. The title track swaggers with crunchy groove and crushing doom, marking three tracks with three distinct identities within. Oh, and they feel fuckin’ heavy. Like, heavy. They veer off into their mid-era goth dabblings and female vocal duets (Tränenpalast) They reach into their 80s trick bag (Blood of Out Blood) and pull off widdly-widdly scream-offs (Deathscream) before closing on another regal yet militaristic anthem, Loyal to the Grave. Sure, there’s a bit of filler here (Psychotic Imperator) but no matter, the rest of the disc is solid. Return to the Terror Zone once more!
Depravity - Bestial Possession
Transcending Obscurity (2025)
There used to be a TV show on Channel 2 called Consuming Passions. It was fronted by an eccentric cook who resembled an accountant on day release from the funny farm. He wore his remaining side tufts of hair with fluffy pride, along with a trademark magnificent moustache. He’d regularly express almost all of his emotions through his eyes; squinting, bulging, flaring like some rococo-era baron. Channel 2, for those not of the Australian persuasion, was the sole TV channel of the state-owned broadcaster, the ABC. The ABC being wholly government funded and charter-bound to impartiality, carried no commercial advertising. So they produced five-minute “bumpers” to fill in time when normally commercial programs ran short. Consuming Passions was such a show. Our weirdo uncle accountant Ian Parmenter had about five quick-cut minutes to whip up something tasty and astonishing. Of course, nothing significant could be created in real time. The 1990s sketch show mainstay Fast Forward would send it up by having the parody “Ian” tottering around his kitchen drunk (the real Ian would always toast his creations with a parting glass of wine) - he’d say “here’s the bread, here’s the cheese, you know the drill”, the joke being that he could only comfortably complete cheese on toast in his allotted five minute airtime.
What does this have to do with Depravity? Well, the fact they’re a pastiche of the greats: Morbid Angel, Suffocation, Deicide; like all good death metal ought be. They distill their considerable skill in musical storytelling into four, five minute pieces. A dizzying spell of madness heard on Engulfed in Agony might seem oblique to virgin ears, but I hear it as character, as concept. You can do a lot in five minutes - the Fast Forward parodists be damned.
