PROGRESSIVE METAL

DOM LAWSON buckles up for a delve into the darker, heavier side.

Heavy and weird times call for heavy and weird music, so strap yourselves in. Without Waves’ third album, Comedian

(Prosthetic), begins with a bewildering flurry of polyrhythmic riffs and bugeyed screams, before mutating into a perverse amalgam of pitch-black post-rock and left-field electronics. Somehow, this Chicago quartet make it all sound entirely natural, and they sustain that suspension of musical logic throughout. Fans of Devin Townsend and Between The Buried And Me will revel in the scattershot riot of ideas that fuels more aggressive songs like .algorithm and Sleight In Shadows, while the melodic drift and hazy dynamics of Day 15 and Do What Scares You offer sublime moments of woozy respite.

Cobra The Impaler are not quite as terrifying as their name suggests, but Colossal Gods

(Listenable) is a debut of great distinction. There’s a debt to Mastodon in the thunderous likes of Demigods and Blood Eye, but these Belgians have an eccentric streak that precludes them from sticking to the script. With powerful vocals, addictive melodic hooks and a seemingly endless supply of great riffs, it’s hard to think of a reason not to get impaled.

The presence of Swallow The Sun vocalist Mikko Kotamäki should be all the reason anyone needs to check out Kuolemanlaakso’s new album, Kuusumu

(Svart). Veterans of Finland’s unerringly fruitful funeral doom scene, they draw inspiration from the epic poetry of Finnish legend Eino Leino and have a penchant for gothic grandeur and exquisite misery. Kotamäki is a commanding presence throughout and he brings his bruised humanity to bear on opulent, morbidly theatrical epics like the Pimeys Laski and wickedly pompous closer Tulessakävelijä.

With members of transcendental Romanian metal crew Negura Bunget in their ranks, Dara Project were never going to be a straightforward concern. The band’s second album, Se Glia Lua Nume (Loud Rage), continues their all-encompassing approach, wherein stripped down post-metal and bullish, riff-driven space rock collide with cracked mirror jazz and angsty, brittle black metal. The mellifluous, reverb-soaked Napasta is a particularly mesmerising moment. Blurring the lines between subgenres is standard practice in the metal underground, but Messa have turned their disregard for boundaries into a means to conjure real magic. The Italians’ third album, Close (Svart), is a fervently progressive affair, with elements of drone, doom, psychedelic rock and post-punk woven together. From opener Suspended’s haunted doom riffs and mischievous jazz interludes to the bluesy, occult rush of closer Serving Him, Messa are a thoroughly unique proposition and Close is a momentous piece of work.