Reviews – Audio

Worm Ouroboros – s/t

Worm Ouroboros dive in without hesitation, never shy about setting themselves adrift on the musical currents they generate. On the surface, they wallow in beauty and atmosphere. But after repeated listens you can get beneath the surface, into the substrata of the songs themselves, which is where this album’s rewards really dwell.

Haken – Aquarius

I am totally blown away. Haken is the best thing to happen to progressive metal in many, many years. Hailing from England, this relatively young band has unleashed a masterpiece.

Utopium – Conceptive Prescience

Raging from the get-go and never once losing track of its vision, Conceptive Prescience boasts 18 minutes of rudimentary blast-grind pulling from the ravenous, almost overbearing attack of early Napalm Death but shoved through the dirty filter of Nasum, Phobia and other crossover acts.

Postcards From Natalie Zed, Part 3

Hellbound readers, we’re sure that by now you are all familiar with our Natalie Zed, right? Natalie was our big grand prize winner back in January, taking home more than 50 CDs + and shortly after she received her huge box ‘o CDs, Ms. Zed asked us over at Hellbound HQ if we’d be interested in running reviews of her winnings if she did postcard sized reviews of the albums. How could we say no?

So, without further adieu, here is Natalie’s third installment (reviews #21 – 30 for those keeping stats at home) in what Hellbound likes to refer to as “Postcards From Natalie Zed”…

Our Last Night – We Will All Evolve

Yet another case of toddlers ingesting the sick union between balls-out metal and does-it-have-any-balls screamo, We Will All Evolve suffers from insanely powerful heavy moments akin to metalcore’s more muscular contributors but quickly devolves into faltering bouts of off-kilter melodies striving to offer the album some semblance of sing-alongs.

Infanticide – From Our Cold, Dead Heads

[Infanticide’s] Scott Hull-produced debut doesn’t traffic in grotesque songs that are the equivalent of dead baby jokes set to stale death metal riffs and pedestrian drumming. It’s more like a potent combination of the misanthropy of Weekend Nachos with the anarchist impulses of Leftover Crack