Wanting an endless supply of godly bands, we on this imperfect Earth have to suffice with great numbers of less than awe-inspiring albums to keep us entertained. However, there are times when almost all metal seems like irritating, imbecillic noise and only the very best handful stands out as enjoyable. When the thought of another hour of merely tolerable music is intolerable, there is yet a place for this double CD in my heart and mind.

Why this live album and not one of their hit albums from 1995-98? Well, here you have in one package many standout songs from that era and an abundance of their best moments from other albums – Land of the Free II does not suffer frequent listening in its entirety, but the band had the sense to feature the excellent sing-along Real World on this live collection. Similarly, while No World Order from 2001 leaves me yawning, The Heart of the Unicorn and New World Order are very good picks here. And then there is that expected cavalcade of Somewhere Out In Space – Land of the Free – Rebellion in Dreamland etc. etc. Fans of the Scheepers era might be disappointed, but there are a couple of songs for them as well. Considering the band’s extensive discography, the track listing is phenomenally well balanced.

The band performs with passion and integrity. While retaining reasonable precision (the backbone courtesy of Mr. Atomic Clock Zimmermann), the members seem to be having fun, especially evidenced by Hansen’s furious “FUCK YEAAAH! AWESOME!” ad lib ending to Send Me A Sign. Far from a lifeless replica of album versions, the live set is vibrant and energetic and, as a welcome bonus, Henjo presents many guitar fills and “lead riffs” that have either been buried in album mixes or not in the originals at all. Some examples to point out would be from Land of the Free: Man on a Mission and the title track are ever more glorious as the two-guitar arrangement is given adequate attention. Unfortunately, the bass is far too low in the mix, which weakens the overall sound a notch and hides the potential of Mr. Schlächter.

That complaint aside, this is a fierce, fiery live album, recommended for just about any moment in life. I cannot stop loving the energy here – this has actually grown to be my favourite Gamma Ray. Take a look at the DVD version as well.

This album is almost two decades old, and it still mops the floor with all other death metal released in the succeeding years. While this is partially an indication of the sorry state of modern death metal, it is also a testament to the immense, lasting power that Mental Funeral carries. From the crushing opening of Twisted Mass of Burnt Decay to the slowly dripping clean notes of the final track, the music stands in a league of its own; this is one of those albums that you will never find boring.

Drummer Chris Reifert has stated his songwriting motivations in rather simple terms – to make “the sickest shit imaginable” or some such banality. But that phrase describes precisely what Mental Funeral is: lopsided, intentionally out-of-balance song structures; mischievously deranged riffs, very often spiced with multilayering for added harmonic effect; atonal guitar solos that appear out of nowhere, later to give way to yet another set of bizarre riffs; rhythms that bounce from rabid gallops to torturous crawls and everything in between.

Far from a textbook example of death metal, the album is a magnificent work from a band that did what it wanted even if it never won them any popularity contests in their active days. This was neither the fastest nor the most technical band in existence then, and it would be even farther from that status in today’s world where Niles and Cryptopsies reign. What sets Autopsy apart from the crowd is that Reifert & Co. never concentrated on one gimmick (technicality, “brutality”, speed, lack thereof, or what have you) but directed all of their energies into solid songwriting, employing whatever elements they thought proper. The end result is a mixture of vastly different bits and pieces well forged together: for example, the 35-second guitar-only interlude Fleshcrawl is a perfect way to both deliver a little pause from the brutality that preceded it and also lead into the next piece of dismal suffering.

There is a multitude of little rhythmic tricks that initially go unnoticed, but as one realizes how seamlessly the odd time signatures and other such surprises are set in the bigger picture, it heightens the listening experience even further; an underlying complexity permeates an album created by some guys who just wanted to record “brutal shit”. In contrast, when a modern death metal band goes into 7/8 time, you’ll be certain to hear them hailed as “progressive”, “inventive” and “different”. The difference, of course, is that for new bands it is a gimmick, while for Autopsy it was merely a way to drive a song forward with a little twist. Feel free to mail me about the exceptions in today’s world, for I am too sick of contemporary death metal to actively keep following it any more. In the meantime, I’ll cherish this classic like a Mongol cherishes his horse.

Finally, a compilation that is worth buying – from Peaceville, of all labels! What we have here is all of Darkthrone’s demo output, with the added bonus of a mildly messy live recording, a couple of forgotten studio pieces and, as a surprise move, the whole Goatlord session in its instrumental form – that is, without ANY of the infamous “female vocals” so many of us have come to love or hate. A good amount of material is packed in a sturdy hard-covered book that should at least weather a few stray drops of beer at your local underground party. The innards of the beast contain a booklet with some intriguing bits of history from the 1988-91 days, as well as a large photo of the lads at their cuddliest (true babyfaces, the lot of them!). Overall, the chosen content pleases me; apart from the generic cover picture, I find things to be in order here.

Nothing important is omitted, so we turn to ponder whether the sound has been mangled, polished or otherwise brutalized; the answer is a resounding no. The first demo is as hissy as it ever was, and the rest does not reek of later editing either. That primitive punch of the original recordings is still there in all its unholy glory. There are a couple of semi-produced studio tracks that are remarkably cleaner than the demo material, yet even they are quite far from the Sunlight sound of Soulside Journey. As for the live bits recorded in Denmark, they are noisy and obscure, just about the quality of a decent bootleg; not worth paying for on their own but a welcome bonus on a compilation such as this. Additionally, they make me chuckle, too, as Nocturno Culto introduces songs with coyness in his voice: “You’re a nice crowd, really.” “We might fuck this up but who cares.” Humble!

The Goatlord session, well well… upon hearing the vocalized version, I made a vow to not buy the album, yet here we are! Thank all manner of deities that the worst irritant is gone; no more vocals. I do still find the album a tad too randomly collated slide show of riffs, but I am certain that many others will utterly love it without the throatwork.

Did you ever think of buying Preparing for War to get a hold of the old death metal material? I certainly hope not; there is far more worth for your money here, and more importantly, nothing useless has been added. Who would want to buy a compilation with clichés like Transilvanian Hunger on it just to have an incomplete collection of demo songs and rarities? Beats me; in any case, get this if the band’s death metal phase is at all dear to you.

(originally written for Metal Archives)

Now here’s a treat for those who enjoyed The Key but hated certain aspects of the production. I think you know what I’m talking about – the synthesizer sounds were occasionally chosen in a bizarre fashion, and the thin Morrisound style of guitar recording left something to hope for as well. To use a mildly accurate analogy: if the first full-length was something like Beneath the Remains soundwise, then these two demos are the pummelling chaotic mess of Bestial Devastation and Schizophrenia – the latter featuring properly mixed horror choir sounds instead of loud “space harpsichords” à la The Key. There’s a fitting amount of Evil Reverb™ in the soundscape, and to my great enjoyment, the demo guitar sports a fuller sound that could be defined as something between Severed Survival, Hell Awaits, and the aforementioned Schizophrenia. Although things get muddy during the most frenetic passages (Browning never owned a drum kit that is suitable for recording), I find this collection a richer and more rewarding listening experience than the dry-humped debut album.

The only real drawback of this compilation would be that some of the good material that was later included on The Key is missing, such as my favourite “Lake of Fire”. On the other hand, also absent is the terrible instrument masturbation from the latter half of the album. Those songs that do appear here are well-performed, except for occasional kick drum lagging, and all the important elements of decent death metal are in place with no up-and-down-the-scale nonsense.

One marked difference with the album is that the tempo is often slower, but I would not consider that a flaw at all – there is so much to dissect in the riffs and structures that mere hyperspeed never becomes the main factor to drive these songs forward. In the case of “Standing in Blood”, the slowness actually turns into a benefit for the demo version: the slayeresque break right after the initial kick drum attack doesn’t have that much power on the album, yet here it packs a proper punch. A lesson in songwriting for modern death metal bands, perhaps? I’m afraid it will fall on deaf ears, but let’s not be too pessimistic.

As usual with demo compilations, the booklet features old photos, demo covers, lyrics, and a short biography along with a whole bunch of old reviews and gig posters. The packaging in general is nice, except for the ugly light blue colour they have chosen for the front cover. This CD is probably worth your money if you’re into death metal.

(originally written for Metal Archives)

On paper, this album is a pile of junk. The amount of repetition borders on the ridiculous, the drum machine sounds cheap, and the album is laden with melodies so shamelessly cheesy that they would make Jean Michel Jarre blush. Echoed croaks and tremolo guitars join to complete a baffling combination of black metal and synthpop – one that even dares to draw the entirety of its lyrical content from the writings of Tolkien. It takes a sick mind to fuse ideas such as this. Pizzicato strings, archaic computer drumming and hobbits? How on (Middle) Earth can anything good come out of that? Plain impossible!

Yet, for all its clumsiness, I keep returning to this album day after day. Perhaps it is precisely that clumsiness that retains my interest: since no grandiose production tricks steal my attention, everything on Dol Guldur is an abstraction of itself. The percussion sound is so far from human that it no longer needs to sound human; same goes for the synthesizer strings, flutes and whatnot. The actual sounds are merely abstract placeholders, and the mind of the listener does the work to hear the music beyond the sound.

Disc goes in, push Play. I chuckle for a few seconds at the synthesizer sound, and then it happens: additional layers of music – which don’t actually exist – start to appear in the sparingly composed songs. The band provides just enough to fuel the flames: a simple beat and some melody hooks, something for the mind to build upon – new rhythms and layers of harmony, different each day. The masterful foundation of everything is that the listener is there with the band to create the music, as opposed to the average metal album that reveals its cards all at once.

The musical framework pounds on slowly throughout the album, the steady drum beats (almost devoid of any cymbals) changing little along the way. “Repetition” of riffs becomes “hypnosis”, and time loses its meaning. The horns of Elfstone merge with the synth-woodwind of Khazad Dúm and further on into the next part of the hypnosis, Kôr. The trance is not interrupted by drastic changes in mood, so the same effect lasts to the very end.

This album completely disarms me of hurry and worry, even to the point that certain annoyances of earthly life cease to exist. Try it in morning traffic; you will find yourself in near-death situations because you forgot to look around yourself. Knowledge of hobbit-journeys is optional – the landscapes illustrated by this work are not restricted to those created by that one British chap.

(originally written for Metal Archives)