Double MC including previously unreleased demos and recordings from the first
live ceremony.
Side ABYSS:
"The Face of the Master" Demo III (tracks 1 - 7)
Side BLASPHEMY:
"Beyond" Demo IV (tracks 8 - 10)
"The Gruesome Song of Majestic Vampiric Blood" Demo V (track 11)
"Unholy Warriors" Demo VI (tracks 12 - 14)
Side CHAOS:
"Morbid Midnight" Demo VII (track 15)
Side DESECRATION:
"Eine Symphonie des Grauens" LIVE'04 (tracks 16 - 21)
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Any individual heavily into this arcane form of music should, at the very least, be aware of Hierophant’s existence. Originally released in 2003 and limited to a mere 135 copies, The Tome became quite a sought-after item and launched Hierophant into funeral doom legend. Comprised of the band’s three demos, stretching all the way back to 1994, The Tome displays the entire career of this important band. It shows us that Hierophant’s lone member, Xathagorra Mlandroth (who moved onto Catacombs), helped bring about the formation of funeral doom with his 1994 EP, along with albums by Thergothon, Skepticism, Esoteric, and Funeral. Hierophant’s style can be best described as thick and suffocating. All of the songs are ultra slow hymns of low grumbles, sparse drums and keyboards, and practically the same chord played over and over ad nauseum. (Wayward Son)
(Not to be confused with the Caveman Electronics outfit of the same name, members being Eric Wood and Kohei Chang)
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Italian Neo-Folk (Industrial/Dark Ambient) compilation.
NEO-FOLK INFO
(Tracklist in comments)
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Jasemine Demo Tape (Stonehenge Records,1994)
Elements Of Need / Jasemine split 7" (Kidney Room,1995)
Jasemine / Ivich split 7" (Stonehenge Records,1995)
This is pretty much everything that French Screamo band Jasemine (ex-members of Fingerprint, pre-members of Vanilla) ever did...
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Punishment and reward…Listening to “Infiltration.Downfall.Death” is at once a painful and exhilarating experience for those who can understand its purpose and appreciate its power. Those squeamish cowards for whom this album does not evoke such a strong response were simply not meant to understand it. Not since “War Cult Supremacy” has an album decimated the listener in so vile a manner as Revenge have done with this, their third full-length album. The new anthems of superiority and subjugation presented on “Infiltration.Downfall.Death” are the purest embodiment of violence recorded this decade. Within the first cacophonous seconds of ‘Death Heritage’, the listener is dragged unwittingly into the chaos. J. Read (Conqueror, Axis of Advance) and P. Helmkamp (Order From Chaos, Angelcorpse) are veterans in crafting the sound of total annihilation and have brought their songwriting and playing to a new peak of extremity with this recording. Cold, bitter, and brutal, Revenge leave nothing to chance with these songs. Every chord change and drum fill has been calculated to channel the most intense form of disgust and contempt. It is this quality of total control against a backdrop of disorder, suffering, and war that sets “Infiltration.Downfall.Death” apart from the meager output that passes for extreme metal these days. This album is not some childish attempt to rebel against politically correct society just for the sake of rebelling, nor is it rooted in a fantasy world of Satan and magick. This album is firmly rooted in reality.
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Boasting members from Born Against, Nazti Skins, and Men’s Recovery Project, Wrangler Brutes wax nostalgic for the west coast thrash/punk of Suicidal Tendencies and The Vandals, all while incorporating some common influences – Aggression and Hell Awaits era Slayer - with some uncommon ones – most notably the angular guitar style of the Magic Band’s Zoot Horn Rollo.
West Coast thrash is a genre defined by its breakneck drumming, throat punishing vocals, and sprinting guitar lines. Wrangler Brutes behave accordingly, adding bits of humor here and there with vocal cameos from ex-Circle Jerk Keith Morris, and Circus Lupus howler Chris Thomson. These moments do little to empower the music, distracting instead from the inventive guitar work - Stewart Voegtlin
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Sam McPheeters' Men's Recovery Project rose like a phantom out of the ashes of the legendary Born Against. Since their inception they have released over ten recordings on a number of different labels including Vermiform and Kill Rock Stars. The Project is epic in scope, tackling issues from Reaganite foreign policy to Naked Sailors; from an album dedicated entirely to the socio-economic realities in the Middle East to an unfathomably diverse 60 track CD; from songs less than ten seconds long, to entire short stories spoken aloud. It would be useless to try and even categorize the band beyond calling it "strange." Comical yet responsible, horrifying yet compelling, McPheeters' altered state of mind is apparent enough...
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Blind Baby Has Its Mothers Eyes is a huge linear album of massive slabs of intoxicating sound, which fly around the room and clog up your ears and hassle your pets as they go about their everyday business. The bass lines are as monolithic as the Rallizes have ever got, and certain places see them drop away in a non-reggae dubby-style that leaves the top end teetering like a tiny boat waiting to be swallowed by a whirlpool. In places, the lead guitar seems even more extravagantly committed to total oblivion than ever, but here Mizutani seems to have intentionally ditched the between rhythms, normally played by hi-hats and chugging guitars, in a desire to bring a post-apocalyptical Waiting For Godot-type featurelessness to his muse. It is a tremendous album - Julian Cope, Head Heritage
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Fuzzier, harder and heavier than on their self-titled debut, Los Dug Dug's hit their stride with this heavy psych monster. There's more than a touch of MC5 like energy here, but the pop hooks that made their first record sound so dated have largely been replaced. Lots of flute too, which brings an early Jethro Tull vibe into the mix as well. There's a couple of bummer mellow cuts, but on balance this is exactly how heavy/hard rock recorded in '72 should sound like. Get on the Dug tip and check 'em out. Really, a lost gem of the fuzzy, fuzzy early seventies.
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L.A.'s kings of grindcore first full length (after a shitload of comps and 7"s). Heavy and noisy and totally hilarious. From the airbrushed cocaine/Conan the Barbarian 70's-van art cover, to the ridiculous between song banter (lifted from Venom and others) to the sort-of-appropriation of metal classics and 70's am radio hits that occasionally surface between bursts of all out grind, this record fucking rules. Think Crossed Out but not as slower and sloppier, or think Man Is The Bastard with a sense of humor -AQ
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