PICK OF THE WEEK: Inexorum offer massive riffs, black metal roots with stirring ‘Lore of the Lakes’

Our existence isn’t meant to be easy, and trying to stay the course can be impossible to manage sometimes. Whether there is chaos in our lives or we’re looking tragedy in the eyes, managing hardships and pain can ask every ounce of us and drain us of our beings. Not everyone is capable of responding and staying strong, and the ones that do often come out changed on the other side.

Trying to take matters into our own hands to guide our journeys is a major theme of “Lore of the Lakes,” the magnificent debut record from Inexorum, a project initially envisioned as a solo endeavor for Carl Skildum (you know him from Antiverse and Threadbare, and he has played guitar in a live setting for Obsequiae), this album is a celebration of melodic riffs, a record that should cause your bloodstream to surge, whether you simply digest the songs or also tackle the subject matter. Joined by bassist and RIAA-certified-gold producer Matt Kirkwold, the duo unleashes a positively hellacious recording that drinks heavily from the early ’90s black metal streams but does not just regurgitate sounds. They are in homage, sure, but they deliver their own version of this sound, an explosive, rushing album that sounds like it will be considered a modern classic once it ages a bit. That sounds hyperbolic. Admittedly, yes, but there’s a feel in this music I can’t fully describe, and it makes me believe it’s the beginning of what will be a special band.

“Raging Hearts” is a blistering way to open the record as the riffs take hold right away, catapulting chaos and meeting up with fiery melody. “We forge our own way!” Skildum wails, all the while the music gallops triumphantly, with more razor-sharp riffs leading the way to the very end. “Let Pain Be Your Guide” has guitars knifing through muscle, with the leads surging, and the growled verses spraying cinders. “Will I ever be the same again?” Skildum wonders, surrounding that mystery with playing that feels full of Viking rage, reminding of an even heavier early version of Amon Amarth. The guitars are fluid, while the drums decimate, and in the midst of rage, Skildum howls, “Light the flame and hold it high,” ending the song on a defiant note.

“Years in Exile” runs a healthy 7:22, and it begins with a deluge of guitars and verses that are a little grislier than what preceded it. The track storms hard, giving off a classic metal edge along the way, and delivering another heaping helping of catchy riffs. Later, the drums thunder, twin guitar lines intertwine, and things spiral to its end. “To Omega” has a meaty start, with the guitars trudging ahead, and growls that go from harsh to cavernous within the same stretch. The music rises gloriously, making adrenaline burn, while vibrant melodies crash to the ground, and the song comes to a breathtaking end. The closing title cut is the longest song, clocking in at 8:46, and it allows an atmosphere to develop slowly, while waves lap the shore. The power then emerges, chugging and chewing, before the song ignites and hits full intensity. “From shore to shore, hear the voices of those who have gone before,” is a refrain Skildum repeats, each time with added emotion, as the music develops into a fiery storm. The final stretch finds the guitars setting up one final assault, the drums cracking the earth, and everything dissolving into a bed of acoustics that deliver a rustic, woodsy finish.

This first dose of triumph from Inexorum jolts the earth and makes seismic waves on debut record “Lore of the Lakes.” It’s an album that will thrill the hell out of those who dine hungrily on the riffs, as well as those who also find substance and relatable messages in the lyrical content. This is a fantastic record, one of the best debuts of the year, and we’re pretty sure we’ll still be enjoying this thing once that snows fall and our bootsteps crunch beneath us.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/inexorum/

To buy the album, go here: https://gileadmedia.bandcamp.com/album/lore-of-the-lakes

For more on the label, go here: http://gileadmedia.net/

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Twilight Fauna continue paying homage to Appalachia on rustic opus ‘Where Birds Sing My Name’

Records aren’t always intimate portions into the creators’ lives, especially when it comes to metal. This genre normally is more concerned with death, destruction, devils, social unrest, and topics such as that, because it’s pretty natural to make angry-sounding music about those areas. When we delve into more personal realms, that when the real-life juices can flow.

Paul Ravenwood’s Twilight Fauna project has spent time reflecting on his Appalachian home and the music that comes from that region. He treated us to a nice helping on last year’s opus “The Year the Stars Fell,” and he follows that up with a new seven-track helping “Where Birds Sing My Name,” an amalgamation of black metal and folk music that can draw comparisons to Panopticon, at least on the surface. Ravenwood long has etched a rough, gruff patch over the course of his project’s previous seven full-lengths (all of those since 2012), not caring about precision and polish and instead going from the gut. He’s again joined by drummer Josh Thieler (of Pittsburgh’s Slaves BC) as well as a slew of other players who handle banjo, fiddle, and additional vocals, to make for what amounts to an around-the-fire display that lets loose spark and ash, rising up among the mountaintops.

“As Autumn Turns to Spring,” based on “Tiger Creek” by J.P. Mathes II (who handles banjo on this track and elsewhere on the album), begins the record with banjos sprawling, violins licking the dust off the windowsills, and a jubilant feel that aims to bask in Appalachian celebration. “Crooked Road” follows, a lo-fi dose of creaky black metal that features drums blistering, and the fierce storm hanging overhead. Ravenwood’s harsh growls make bones shake, while the melodies wash over with a gaze, hissed wails cut through, and melodies and pounding bleed to the end. “November’s Cold” trickles like a cold stream, as Kendal Fox adds her singing to the mix, conjuring a lullaby-style trance. Hazy guitars rush in, while cymbals are crashed, and then the awakening comes in a deluge. Wild cries and wrenching screams mix, lulling you under the surface of the water. The track goes unhinged, releasing animalistic spirit as it sprawls and brawls into the shadows.

A raw take on Clifton Hicks’ “Crying Shame” follows, adding a quivery view into mountain roots, and then we’re into “Chasing Shadows” that starts with clean guitar and piercing singing. Guitars bubble as the pace gains steam, and then the music heats up and smothers, while harsh growls and sound squalls do battle before a cold spell strikes. From there, the tempo is tugged back and forth, while the drums blast, and a grisly burst of hell carries the track away. “Reflections” has a properly somber start, floating gently and getting fuzzy, before the song explodes with colors. Emotionally rich guitars bleed all over the ground, while a static screen arrives, and open veins pump their vital fluids. “The Path Home” closes, as birds call, banjos are plucked, and gruff and rustic singing puts the story to bed.

Twilight Fauna’s emotion and guts constantly are on display, and with “Where Birds Sing My Name” not only is a rushing second chapter on the band’s homage to home, it’s an ideal next step from “The Year the Stars Fell.” There’s a charm in the band’s music where they lean to roughness and avoid polish, as it gives what they do an authenticity you can feel. This is a heartfelt album that lets you have a glimpse into Ravenwood’s world and gives you a chance to connect to your own.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/twilightfauna

To buy the album, go here: https://twilightfauna.bandcamp.com/album/where-birds-sing-my-name

The Lion’s Daughter unleash dark synth attack with sludgy doom on stirring ‘Future Cult’

Photo by Mothmeister

We live in harrowing times. There is unrest as far as the eye can see. The news each night is a sobering collection of things that happened that pretty much defy common sense. Part of the United States feels like it’s locked in the clutches of a faith cult, where they can’t separate news events from their strange ideology. There’s never been a scarier time to be alive for so many of us.

It’s fitting, then, that The Lion’s Daughter return with a stirring new record “Future Cult” that’s steeped very much in the present but also in the past. With the advent of darkwave, these guys have found something profound in that sound and mixed it into their dangerous, sludgy doom metal that hits as hard as ever. The horror movie synth that’s become a major part of their sound on this record also feels  like an escape. It reminds me of a simpler time of my youth when the scariest thing in the world was a masked slasher and not the goddamn president of the United States and his blind followers. This used to be a beer/metal/pro wrestling site, and now we’ve added politics. Anyway, it’s added a fascinating element to this band—guitarist/vocalist Rick Giordano, bassist Scott Fogelbach, drummer Erik Ramsier—one that makes them more exciting and riveting, which they didn’t really need, but damn it if it doesn’t make this record stand out in the crowd.

The title track gets us going, as electronics and riffs collide, synth whirs, and growls penetrate, giving us our first terrifying view that ends in static and barrels into “Call of the Midnight Animal” that lets loose knocks and a haze. Then shit just explodes, with an industrial-powered assault, the band blasting in the mud, and then a fog emerges that pulls a blanket of confusion over the terror. Noise echoes out of that, before the band delivers a bludgeoning end. “Die Into Us” lets loose the synth darkness, as guitars spiral, and harsh calls leaves bruises. “We cannot speak, we cannot dream!” Giordano wails, as the riffs catapult, speed becomes a factor, and the synth takes us into the darkness. “Suicide Market” has keys surging as the mud builds and becomes hard to traverse. The assault is blunt and dangerous, as thick basslines bruise faces, and we end in a shadow of eerie darkness. “The Gown” begins clean, with acoustics sprinkled in, as spacey synth creates strange clouds, and the riffs clobber. Harsh growls make their way into the chaos before darkness rises up and fades.

“Grease Infant” opens with a similar wave of keys before the guitars outright gut you, and tough vocals
blast their way into the picture. There is weird, gut-wrenching power on display, with murky keys giving the song an urban nighttime feel. Leads blur and bleed, with the song fading into the shadows. “Galaxy Ripper” has filthy riffs, speedy punishment, and the band stabbing away, leaving oozing wounds before its blunt finish. “Tragedy” has keys causing confusion before riffs and blurry sentiment twist your brain. The vocals bludgeon, as the keys spread and send chills, finally fading into mystery. “Girl Autopsy” is a quick instrumental built on noise waves, synth strikes, and strangeness, ideally paving the way to finisher “In the Flesh.” Right away, knife edges scorch the skin, as the pace devastates, and the synth freezes the flesh. Guitars dizzy as a chilled sci-fi feel arrives, with the band lobbing hammers, Giordano screaming, “Terror in the flesh!” and the track ending in a bed of real-life horrors.

The Lion’s Daughter remain a punishing, bludgeoning band, and their addition of darkwave synth to their stew makes them heartier and bloodier. “Future Cult” is a really imaginative, terrifying record that, despite its name, is very much relevant to right now. It’s a horrifying time for humanity, and this record hammers that point home to an uncomfortable level.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/thelionsdaughter

To buy the album (North America), go here: https://shopusa.season-of-mist.com/

Or here (International): https://shop.season-of-mist.com/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.season-of-mist.com/

Finnr’s Cane mystical, dramatic black metal concoction creates foggy, imaginative fire on ‘Elegy’

Every August here in Pittsburgh, the Renaissance Festival comes to town and gives us modern folk a chance to get a taste of what things used to be like. Last year, a guy dressed as a beggar made fun of my shirt. It’s a good time. It also brings to mind certain types of music that are chambery and mystical, feeling like it’s actually transporting you to that era.

I’m not sure how Canadian atmospheric black metal band Finnr’s Cane will take being compared to the Ren Fest, but hopefully they embrace with the affection with which it’s intended. The band’s music, while soaking in current black metal waters, also has many threads to bygone eras with their instrumentation. They eschew bass guitar for cello, and the use of woodwinds creates an environment unlike much of what’s out there in extreme music. There is an element of poetry to what they do, and that’s present and accounted for on their great new third record “Elegy.” This trio—vocalist/guitarist The Bard, cellist/keyboard player The Slave, drummer The Peasant—pushes on with their first music in five years back to rustic, thorny terrain they created on their first two records and makes that world even more expansive and imaginative. This is a hearty, immersive album that’ll swallow you whole.

“Willow” opens the record in a gaze burst, as riffs slowly burn and wash their way into acoustics. The power then arrives, with a proggy push going, whispering and singing uniting, and the music bathing in the fog. Harsh growls erupt, and then things come to a sudden end. The title track takes its time burning its path, as dreamy singing emerges, and the sound of chirping birds sends calm. Growls then rip into the body, while the music gets moodier, and the guitars start to punch. The drama flows from there, eventually disappearing into mystery. “Strange Sun” has doors creaking open, with a prog-fueled arrangement arriving, and synth sounding like battle horns. Then, hard growls punish, while the pace gets speedy and dangerous, and the harshness piles on like a storm. Guitars drip coldly, as the back end goes from violent to warm and jazzy.

“Empty City” flares up fires, as flutes breeze through, giving the song a folkish ambiance. The track flows gently for much of this before the music tears open, wrenching growls destroy, and everything rumbles to an end. “Earthsong” has a glorious start, charging and rushing into the forefront, as it reveals death metal majesty. Savage growls split lips, while the metallic energy heads into a flush of acoustics that brings the temperature down a bit. Heartfelt soloing emerges out of that, keeping the blazes furious, before things come to a massive finish. “Lacuna” has keys plinking, with guitars rushing, the vocals burning like acid, and keys blending in to add different colors to the mix. The music takes a massive twist from there, as the final moments are blasting and momentous before a sudden end. Closer “A Sky of Violet and Pearl” feels like it awakens at dusk, splashing orange and purple across the sky as it comes to life. Harsh growls and powerful guitars crack before a mid-tempo takes over, turning the song murky and mystical. Keys drip, as a classic feel emerges, with the song bowing out in calm, as you drift into your dreams.

Finnr’s Cane return to recording music is another boost to what’s been a really good year for heavy music, and “Elegy” stands apart from so much of what we’ve already heard simply with its personality. This band makes me think of swords clashing, quiet trips across grassy terrain that take all day long, and some of what we’ve lost over the years as we’ve been overcome by technology.     This is a fine record by a different type of band, and we could use more fresh thinking like this in metal.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/finnrscaneband/

To buy the album, go here: https://prophecy.lnk.to/finnrs-cane-elegy

For more on the label, go here: https://en.prophecy.de/

PICK OF THE WEEK: Khôrada rise from ashes of giants to create emotionally devastating ‘Salt’

It sucks when perfectly good things, at least on the surface, come to an end. When the members of Agalloch were dismissed by that band’s “visionary,” and Giant Squid were buried under the surface of the water, it removed two of metal’s most interesting, inventive bands. It gutted the world of two sets of artists who burned their own kind of fires in the underground, and losing them hurts.

Luckily, out of the dissolution of those two landmark bands comes a new project Khôrada that joins three quarters of the fallen Agalloch—guitarist Don Anderson, bassist Jason Walton, drummer Aesop Dekker—with former Giant Squid guitarist/vocalist Aaron John Gregory. There already was a huge bit of anticipation and hope for this new band when it was announced, and now that their debut full-length “Salt” is here, we have the answer to what this union would sound like. Turns out the answer is nothing like what one might expect. Yes, there are elements of both aforementioned bands, but Khôrada is a totally new idea. It’s not a continuation of anyone else’s band and is instead yet another inventive group that’s thinking and creating in places many are afraid to tread. There are elements of black metal, prog, doom, straight-up rock, and other sonic elements, forming something atmospheric, jarring, magical, and personal. Lyrically, the record addresses the chaos that met the world post-Trump, what’s become of our society, our relationship to the environment, and family. It’s a stunning album, and it may take a few listens to totally digest everything going on here.

“Edeste” begins the record on a hauntingly calm note, but what’s contained inside is anything but. Gaze clouds lead to guitars charges, while Gregory’s smooth croon washes over the track. Horns light up and give off lonesome notes, feeling like you’re at the center of a dust bowl, watching the world crumble. “Flood and flame and hurricanes, clearing her slate again,” Gregory warns, while the track hurtles off into the stars above. “Season of Salt” has mystical riffs before things get thunderous and heavy, bringing on a fog cover. Moody deathrock bubbles to the surface, while Gregory points, “The damage is done.” From there, the track erupts, as if the Earth has turned, with the track feeling nautical in spots, as a rock n roll vibe emerges, and melody floods the blistering end. “Water Rights” rumbles in the distant mist, as drums open up, and Gregory takes on a gravelly course, with some of his most unique phrasing on the record. Psychedelic colors rush (making me think of the album art) before the band goes into a relentless pace, causing quaking and havoc. The singing drives, the keys swirl, and everything washes away from shore. “Glacial Gold” is the center point and my personal favorite cut. The singing is quiet at first, as folky melodies feel rustic, and then Jackie Perez Gratz (Gregory’s wife) lends her striking cello, adding sorrow to the tale. The track slowly builds, as the intensity laps like lava, with Gregory howling, “Gold exposed, shorn from newborn bluffs,” which aligns with topographical pains. The track’s final minutes are incredible theater, with everything reaching a crescendo that pounds your heart.

Then arrives “Augustus,” one of the most personal and emotional songs on the record, where Gregory sings of family of three becoming four (which also could stand in for the band). Birth and deep sorrow follow (if I’ve read it right), with quiet guitars and rich harmonizing. It’s a soul-stopper. “Wave State” is anchored at first by steady horns before the drums kick up and drive the pace. Guitars cut through, with the brass following, as passion arrives in waves, with each of Gregory’s words gushing with emotion, at one point singing, “We are the mange to be cleansed and washed away,” as he explains our fragility to someone much younger and smaller. Riffs continue to encircle, and the gates break, with the horns trampling their way before we return to a mid-pace. From there, serenity flows anew, as the sea and cosmos become one, and alien synth takes us to a plane beyond. “Ossify” is the 11:31-long closer, flowing out of its predecessor as a solid dose of space rock. It feels like a straight-up rock song, as synth whirs in the air, and the track becomes pretty damn catchy. Amid all of this, Gregory envisions the end, one sure to be met by disappointment by those who find us as he notes, “How disappointed they’ll be when unearthing the truth, they will dig through our plastic cocoons, they will have to theorize how we died.” Less-harsh riffs soar, blistering and hitting a fever pitch before its spirit gives up its being to the stars.

Khôrada’s entrance into the world was born out of chaos, but their existence is breathing new life into metal in all different forms. Their initial offering “Salt” is one of the most astonishing debut records, in any form of music, in some time, and their sounds should have a ripple effect downward as people respond to their creative burst. This band sounds like it was meant to be together from the start, and all it took was two landmark bands crumbling in order for it to happen.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/khorada

To buy the album, go here: https://prophecy.lnk.to/khorada-salt

For more on the label, go here: https://en.prophecy.de/

Mutilation Rites death-splashed destruction smears filth, blood all over blackened new ‘Chasm’

Photo by by Suren Karapetyan

Classic, blood-soaked fury should be enough of a descriptor to lure anyone with metallic tastes to the band Mutilation Rites. They’ve spent the past several years slowly building their violent empire, going from the underground to a stint with Prosthetic Records and back to their skull-crushing roots, all the while compromising absolutely nothing.

The band has returned with the filthy third record “Chasm,” a collection that veers far closer to the charred fields of death metal that dabbles in black metal, all the while practically suffocating the listener. This is the first record we’ve gotten from the band since 2014’s savage “Empyrean,” jointly released by Prosthetic and their long-time label home Gilead Media, and it’s an album that never relents for a second. The band—guitarist/vocalist George Paul, bassist/vocalist Ryan Jones, guitarist Michael Dimmitt, and drummer Emmett Ceglia (Tyler Coburn of Yautja handled drums on the recording)—sound like a hellish, evil horde here, imagining torture and death and lathering their music with that madness. It took a few listens for the thing to really set up its terrors fully, but each subsequent visit has opened up bloody guitar routes not realized before and devastating assaults that make themselves clearer, right before they take off your head.

“Pierced Larynx” starts this destruction rightfully with feedback scorching and the guitars trudging to life. The growls scrape viciously, barely able to be deciphered, while the violence rumbles over and through the chorus. The track hits a spot where it boils and gives off steam before bursting again and mangling at the final gates. “Axion Destroyer” is dangerous from the start, burning a path of savagery and unleashing hellacious growls about watching the torture of a loved one. The track thrashes and makes you choke on mud before coming to a blistering end. “Ominous Rituals” soaks in darkness at the start, as guitars swirl and bring chaos, and then the bombs drop. The riffs rip a hole in the goddamn universe before they settle into a killer section that’s even a little proggy. Death growls melt while the pace heats up, punishing and bruising as it drags you to the end.

“Post-Mortem Obsession” has drums bustling to life as a killer riffs meets up with it, and then we’re into furious speed. The death growls are hellish and bloody, and later on, the song adopts some rock n roll swagger, adding attitude to your bloody wounds. Things then get disorienting before the band outright mauls you again before roaring to its end. The title track has delirious, dizzying guitar work, as well as raw, razor-delivered growls that hurt to absorb. The band bashes with reckless abandon, with the vocals clashing with your psyche, and the song coming to a destructive end. Closer “Putrid Decomposition” is the longest cut, a 10:59-long monster that has black metal strains at its front end before it blends into tricky and melodic waters. Again, the vocals are delivered with rusty saw carnage, while the drumming devastates, and the punishment builds. The guitars hang like a poisonous cloud, threatening a heavy storm, and once the clouds break, raspy wails are spat like nails, the pace is hammering, and the unforgiving beating fades along with your consciousness.

Mutilation Rites’ reign has been rock-solid throughout their three records and nearly a decade together, and “Chasm” continues to up the ante as to what these guys are capable of conjuring. Every inch of this record is coated in filth, and you might find yourself gasping and choking through tears as you take this trip. This band never had a concern about your physical or mental well-being before, and they sure as hell are not about the start now.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/mutilationritesnyc/

To buy the album, go here: https://gileadmedia.bandcamp.com/album/chasm

For more on the label, go here: https://gileadmedia.net/

Skeletonwitch survive tumult, tear back with devastating new record ‘Devouring Radiant Light’

Photo by Nico Poalillo

If you were to make two lists, one with bands that never had issues or turnover and one with bands that did, the one with constant issues would be way, way longer. Sometimes that’s for the better. Trimming the bad influences or members whose hearts aren’t in it can be good for creativity, and it could mean new life for the music.

For Athens, Ohio, natives Skeletonwitch, the upheaval they experienced a few years back was for the better. Skeptical? OK, so take on “Devouring Radiant Light,” the best goddamn album this band ever released, and tell me I’m wrong. Guitarist Nate Garnette had to push his brother Chance out of the band after an incident we don’t care to detail here, and that could have meant death for the band. Instead, five years after “Serpents Unleashed,” and with new vocalist Adam Clemans (Wolvhammer) in tow, they put out their defining album, a record that restarts the entire machine and delivers a classic record into their arsenal. They’ve put out good records before. This band is no slouch. But the material they—the band is rounded out by guitarist Scott Hendrick, bassist Evan Linger—deliver here is unstoppable, undeniable, and that of a band that looked its demise right in the eye and spat in it. This is a tremendous record, and, despite the seriousness of what pushed Chance from the band, they’re better off now.

“Fen of Shadows” starts the record in the arms of classic-style guitars before the track launches in full. Clemans’ corrosive growls rip open healed scabs, while a punchy/melodic chorus injects energy. A moment of calm breezes in before the leads catch fire, and everything resolves in the eye of a storm. “When Paradise Fades” begins with Judas Priest-style glory, speedy playing, and a punk-fueled tempo. The vocals burn, while the bulk of the track surges your blood, with even some tasty spurts of black metal. “Temple of the Sun” has a blistering start, as the growls maul, the playing floods the senses, and melody and savagery duel it out for supremacy. A killer solo kicks in later, giving off a trad metal vibe, and some strong clean singing adds a lighter nuance that leads into a halo of chaos. The title cut starts with serene guitars before things trickle open, and the guitars begin to shred. Clemans’ vocals are in full command, especially over the punchy chorus, while the riffs deliver battle blows, and things bleed away emotionally.

“The Luminous Sky” stampedes open, with the growls mangling, and the band jamming the speed pedal. Clemans’ delivery turns guttural and ugly, while the pace punishes all the way to its finish. “The Vault” is the longest song, clocking in at 8:52, and it starts on a somber note, setting its atmosphere before lightning strikes. The song floods the gates, with the vocals crushing and the band delivering utter mayhem designed to tear you apart. Black metal-style melodies take hold, as the intensity builds, sending blood and guts rushing everywhere. “Carnarium Eternal” is a total assault, with Clemans wailing, “Rise! Rise! Rise!” and the guitars going into battle mode. “I will consume all that’s inside,” Clemans vows, as the song is consumed by war. Closer “Sacred Soil” has guitars spinning, black metal-style gusts, and the vocals wrenching. The tide subsides for as bit, letting some warmer guitars into the room, but then it’s back to a full darkness blitz. The melodies race, there is a deluge of power, and finally the song is swallowed into the abyss, left to float in an endless haze.

Whatever you thought of Skeletonwitch before now, rethink it. This is a new band with a new lease on life, and they put their hearts, souls, and guts into “Devouring Radiant Light.” This is a record that should solidify their stronghold and even bring in skeptics watching from the outside. This band always has been for real, and they have a bloody, punishing new record to again prove their prowess.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/skeletonwitch

To buy the album, go here: https://store.prostheticrecords.com/

For more on the label, go here: https://prostheticrecords.com/