Mining Metal is a monthly column from Heavy Consequence contributing writers Langdon Hickman and Colin Dempsey. The focus is on noteworthy new music emerging from the non-mainstream metal scene, highlighting releases from small and independent labels — or even releases from unsigned acts.
I was laid off from my full-time gig one month ago. I won’t detail the arduous job search which has consumed most of my free time because, for one, this is a column about metal and, secondly, there are writers with greater grasps on the job market who have more poignantly described the ridiculousness of finding a job in 2023. Not a fulfilling, meaningful, and high-payment form of employment, but a job. The hoops required to jump through have only become more narrow while growing in number.
As a coping mechanism, metal has overpowered all other music genres in my recent listening habits. That’s not strange given the time of year (October is the month for Type O Negative, after all), but it didn’t block out everything else because of its proximity to horror. Instead, it concerns how music, especially in non-commercial spheres, has always reckoned with the individual’s lack of power in the face of large corporate entities and their relationships with governing bodies. The tension beneath these pressures is paramount to music as it’s often the only way some people can release their frustrations in a manner others can empathize. Metal distinguishes itself by weaponizing defeatism and transforming it from apathy to energy. It intentionally rallies against market forces, often to its fiscal detriment. Whether that’s purely on musical standards (take Bell Witch’s Future’s Shadow Part 1: The Clandestine Gate from April, an album whose single track clocks in at over 80 minutes) or by spitting in the face of search engine optimization (Ὁπλίτης is nigh-impossible to find through Google if you can’t read Ancient Greek).
Yet, rarely do these choices feel reactionary — they are necessary. Like we must breathe to survive, metal’s unyielding nature is inherent to its longevity. It’s at its peak when it’s at its most stubborn. While hardcore punk is arguably more anti-commercial, it has a baked-in communal mindset so you’re never entirely alone. Meanwhile, solitary genres like ambient or IDM champion the individual’s exploration into devices and sounds that, potentially against their will, have been co-opted by commercial forces. Conversely, metal is rooted in self-identification in spite of the numerous great records that grappled with doubt and identity. In the face of every reason not to, metal places its faith in itself. It believes it will succeed on its own terms and defines that success for itself. It’s not a libertarian ideal, but a faith that the individual matters for their inherent worth, their contributions that only they can provide, that they matter because they’re alive.
All of this is to say that metal comforts in uncertain times. It doesn’t matter how strange, heavy, distorted, or repugnant a release can be; so long as it’s true, it will resonate with someone. It is headstrong even in dire circumstances. The eight albums collected here cover a spectrum of extremity and ambition. Some are even perfect for Halloween, depending on how much stock you put into your costumes and epic fantasy.
– Colin Dempsey
Before we get started, some brief shout-outs to great records we sadly didn’t have room for this month. (Curse you, limitations of publication!) First off, the stellar new record by Restless Spirit, which elaborates in the same post-stoner progressive heavy metal space as Elder, early Baroness and Boss Keloid. Likewise, the new record from BLODET, which is vast and brooding and perfect for grim autumnal fixations. Last but not least, the debut from The Keening, picking up right where all-time greats SubRosa left off with their impeccable progressive doom, here stripped of most all of its metal for grandiloquent and gruesome gothic odes. And on with the show!
– Langdon Hickman
Afterbirth – In But Not Of
As you may have noticed from my constant repetition of the sentiment that death metal is the greatest musical form humanity has made yet and by my constant sneaking of straightforward progressive rock records into this column, I am a massive fan of both styles of music. So imagine my immense child-like glee when I pop on the new record by prog/slam brutal death metal band Afterbirth and the songs, much like Tomb Mold’s latest, are instrumentally more or less ecstatic stargazing progressive rock, Voivodian and cybernetic in their beauty, while the vocals are disgusting toilet sounds. Admittedly Afterbirth skew more in an avant-garde direction than Tomb Mold did for this style of progressive death metal, tapping into more thrash and elements that feel closer to the last couple Behold the Arctopus records at times. The way the cover reads like a 90s Vertigo comics reinterpretation of their last album Four-Dimensional Flesh is an added treat. I imagine this one will be overlooked by many but will grow in esteem over the years; get in on this now. Buy it on Bandcamp. – Langdon Hickman
Auriferous Flame – Ardor for Black Mastery
Given Ayloss’ other projects’ expansive visions (i.e., Spectral Lore and Mystras), one could predict that Auriferous Flame is his way of relaxing via basic drumming and a few warm-up riffs. You know, low-pressure, low-ambition, and high-energy music that’s more a palate-cleanser for the active party than an actual musical excursion. However, such a low vision doesn’t seem possible for Ayloss. Ardor for Black Mastery is the vessel through which he connects with black metal in its purest form, one which predates corpse paint and intentional obfuscation and instead brims with regality and blackened thrash power. Hearing Ayloss play metal this primitive yet ambitious (five tracks run more than 7 minutes) shouldn’t be surprising given his previous projects. However, what’s most notable is how he contextualizes this record. To him, it’s a triumph over his self-imposed beliefs — that he could never make an album like this that felt true to him. That victorious spirit runs through its lengthy tracks and transforms into a more vital being than what the recording encompasses. Buy it on Bandcamp. – Colin Dempsey
