Sludge Metal

Here’s a little something I wrote while listening to this album, long I know, if you just want the goods to the actual boring ass review, skip to the bottom just above the links.

General Aseethe’s jaw cracked as he called out to sound the war-call. A loud waning cry bellowed forth from an instrument hollowed out of conjoined femurs sending chills through the spines of the weak and blood through the veins of the brave. Aseethe’s troops dredged forth from the depths of the ocean. Their wet clothes stuck to their skeletal figures, ripped and torn from the current of the ocean that had been their home since their final battle.

The war had been raging on for a decade. The opposing forces had defeated Aseethe’s army in an extremely bloody and ultimately self-defeating battle. The city’s troops had discarded the bodies of the men in Aseethe’s army into the ocean, bidding them good riddance as they washed the blood from their boots with the water. Unbeknownst to them, they had disposed of the bodies in an ocean territory known by the previous settlers of their land as a place to give life to the dead. They had not heeded the warning of those people whom they slaughtered out of greed and desire.
The civilians heard many unsettling sounds beyond the barriers of their city in the following years; harsh noises filled their ears to the point of deafness. Aseethe’s army had risen once more from the olive-green ocean and set up camp a distance away from the city where they had been for quite some time. Their skin had mostly been eaten away by sea-life, leaving the tougher tissues and tendons to dangle from their pocked bones.

Slowly they made their way to the city to exact their revenge, setting up camp periodically until the timing was perfect. The unfamiliar gritty grind of bone scraping bone could be heard from miles away. The hundreds under Aseethe’s command stayed steadfast in their military training, keeping pace despite their decrepit bodies and impatience to have what was rightfully theirs. The city-folk trembled as the sound of grinding bones and metal began reverberating throughout the city walls grew louder and louder each evening. Something was coming, but they had no idea what.
The moon was full. It cast the perfect amount of light over the city as its citizens partook in their annual festivities. Music blared forth from small bands of musicians as the jabbering of a thousand voices competed to be above them. Rumors were abound and filling the eager ears of the city’s people looking for a good campfire spook. An elderly woman, generally considered to be ill of mind with the elders of the city, had a crowd gathered around her as she spoke of Aseethe’s uprising, claiming that she knew of the ocean’s power to give never-ending life to the deceased. Although her stories sent the city-folk’s skin crawling, few regarded her claims as a serious notion.

The gates of the city shook as a battering ram smashed into them sending fragments of bone into the glow of the night’s sky. Again, Aseethe’s army rammed the door at his command, this time breaking the gates and the ram. His men dropped the bone covered ram and made their way through their new entrance.

Silence fell on the city for what felt like hours or droning quiet. The city’s troops rushed to the gates once they discovered what was happening but were met with the chilled stare of vacant, immortal eye sockets. They raised their weapons and fought, regardless of knowing they would lose, to defend their home. The people scattered like cockroaches in the light of the day. In every direction they went, they were met by Aseethe’s men.

Aseethe’s army pulled their swords and muskets and began systematically removing the vermin they had tried to dispose of unsuccessfully. Heads dropped to the ground, followed by the collapsing of their owner’s bag of flesh, while others were blown away, leaving them unrecognizable. Women shrieked, and children fled. The slaughtering was unexpected to all except for the old woman whom the city-folk considered crazy. She stood perched above the army on a wooden stage at the city’s center where she exposed a wicked smile, her teeth like a million poisonous snake fangs.

General Aseethe approached the elder woman, his bones and scraps of clothing now drenched in the city’s blood. He placed his long, jointed hand upon the stage, tilted his skull and took to a knee.

“No” the old woman spoke in her scarred voice “it is ours.”

General Aseethe rose up from his knee, and accepted the hand of the woman, pulling him onto the stage. The two looked around the town, laughing as the slaughter continued throughout the night.

As dusk approached, Aseethe and his army made the slow lumbering journey back to the ocean from wince they were reborn to renew themselves for the reigning of their newfound empire.

Aseethe, a three-piece from Iowa, play a brand of experimental doom that’s ten shades of awesome, and 100% worthy of a spot in the collection of any doom/sludge fan. “Reverent Burden” is the first full-length of the band, available only through my favorite format, vinyl! It’s a well-packaged single LP with a little bonus tucked inside. This beauty is available through Gilead Media, Howling Mine, Halo of Flies and a few others that are listed on their homepage. Be sure to drop by their Facebook, add them, buy the record and jam their tunes. “Reverent Burden” should not be missed for anyone who claims to like experimental doom, and doom in general.

Website with free downloads of all their previous works
Facebook Page
Gilead Media
Halo of Flies
Howling Mine

Part One of four of a show at Vacation Vinyl


Here we have the second album from Haggatha. Awesome name, and an even more awesome sound. It could be describe as sludge, but I’d like to describe the first images that popped in my mind upon listening to this album. (Bandcamp located at the bottom of this, I recommend listening while reading.)

So, please, if you will, imagine…

Your name is Captain Haggatha, you’re the captain of a pirate ship in the middle of the ocean, seizing anyone who comes your way and on a never ending search for that buried treasure some asshole buried before he was gunned down with muskets over touching the State Head’s daughter in her favorite erogenous zone.

More seriously, you’re in the ocean, sailing full-speed to the island you believe the X on your trusty, rolled, and tattered map points to. The lowly deckhands aboard continually warn you of an oncoming, ominous presence. They’ve heard horrific stories of boats being attacked by sea creatures, and violent waters. This does little to discourage you (or the album) you’re all here to stay, in it for the long-haul.

The voyage continues, and the closer you get, the more violent and haunting the trip becomes. Bobbing up and down, crashing against steadfast waves, the boat is taking a beating, as well as your stomach. This is not a sound, or feeling you’re not already accustomed to though, so you push forward and demand the crew to do the same.

Suddenly, your look-out sees the island, but he also sees a massive whirlpool dead in your path. He beckons down to you but you’re too cock-strong to hear him. The skies have turned an ominous green, almost black in some areas.

A massive wave cracks into the side of the vessel as the whirlpool, island, and an enormous monolith of some unusual shape, hard to make out from your current distance. You and your crew spill about the ship, slamming into bags of goods, seized chests, and other assorted items. You bounce off of a mast-post, cracking your ribs, and spinning off, curled up in pain. Everything seems oddly calm, a peaceful serenity has overtaken your mind and body.

Every sound around you escapes your ears. A muffled silence rings. (this is when I had to flip to side B) You fall helplessly through the air as your ship capsizes in front of the whirlpool. The ship is ripped apart in moments, even before you land harshly in the water. As you smack the water you momentarily go unconscious.

You awaken quickly, but find yourself in the midst of the whirlpool, frantically grabbing for any debris but determining that the struggle is pointless. You look over your shoulder toward the vortex, which is now a large, abysmal hole, with thick blackness radiating from its center. Your eyes trace the black lines circling outward from the hole and you continue to orbit.

Soon, the black lines begin to rise from the water, tentacles, long, black and massive. Eight in total, each raising to the sky above. You reach out in anger, shaking your fist and cursing the oceans for their betrayal. Each tentacle aligns itself with a different crew member and then violently slaps them down in the water. The tentacles slither around each of their bodies and then yours, constricting like a python. In a flash, the tentacles whip you and your men to the sky and then pull you straight down into the abysmal vortex.

Like a pirate, Haggatha II is harsh and relentless, and like the ocean it’s turbulent at times, but mostly slow, and pacing. It’s a trip through your demise (if you were Captain Haggatha). A soundtrack to the tortured things you see, hear, and do along the way, and how it all came to end.

If you read that all, you’re awesome. If you opted to skip the story, you’re still kinda awesome. Either way, here’s some links!

Haggatha Facebook Group
Band Camp
Last FM Page
Choking Hazard Records

Haggatha II by Haggatha

Sugar and spice and everything nice. That’s what girls are made of right? Nope…they’re equipped with the Mind of Satan at hand, inverting every cross in their path, setting fire to any number of things,and speaking in this weird hypnotic, reverberating voice. It’s really quite chilling(and fun to watch!…on YouTube…sadly).

Monarch! are from France (Bayonne/St. Augustine), and are the epitome of slow. You could go smoke a cigarette and drink a pot of coffee, come back, and the same note will still be ringing. The amp worship in this band is insane. The sheer heaviness bellowing forth from these guys and gal is uncanny. How they don’t shake themselves off stage is beyond me, or stop their heart from stopping via frequency overload. Emilie’s vocals sound at times like wolves creeping up from behind you as you’re running through a dark, wooded area. Not to mention their own imagery. They definitely have a fine aesthetic appeal to go along with their music, something I can greatly appreciate.

The LP has only two tracks, Sabbat Noir I and Sabbat Noir II, there is a third track that didn’t make it onto the album, which is what their Sortilege album consists of, the song that got away. (Luckily, I’ll be selling it soon!) Both Sabbat Noir I and Sabbat Noir II clock in over 14 minutes a piece and will be more than enough to satisfy that aching need for something slow, droney, sludgy, and haunting. So, don’t be a bum pick up this album before it’s too late. Rumor has it, a new album is on its way and its got some pretty awesome (omitted) up.

Emilie Bresson a.k.a. Eurogirl : vocals
Shiran Kaidin : guitar
MicHell Bidegain : bass
Rob Shaffer : drums



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