Mammüth – Outlander

An epic journey in time at almost an hour and a half and a rich exploit in sound, Outlander the new album from Norwegian rockers Mammüth is one unforgettable proposition already easy to suggest will make regular appearances on end of year best of lists. The band’s sound is a thick and flavoursome not forgetting imposingly heavy invasion of stoner metal and quite addictive within the walls of their striking new album.

Hailing from Drammen, Mammüth emerged in 2007 forged in its members love for stoner, space rock, metal, doom, drone, and hard rock. They are flavours which entangled to make the quintet’s debut album of 2012, Gone with the Wolves, a well-received and praised encounter. Since then the band has honed their writing and sound while breeding open maturity in all aspects, all fuel to the instantly and increasingly impressive Outlander.

Produced by the band and mixed and mastered by Martin Skar at Skar Productions and Norsk Lydstudio, Outlander instantly draws and grips attention with the opening strains of Circling Vultures, its initial wired grooves and senses rapping rhythms nothing less than predacious. With just as hungry riffs in tow, the potent bait only strengthens with the earnest vocals shared by rhythm guitarist Stian Svorkmo and synth player Steffen Overaa. Their union is superb, magnetism in its own right and matched by the rabidly writhing yet controlled sounds around them. Like a fusion of Mastodon, High on Fire, and Down yet not such its and indeed the whole album’s individual character, the track is manna to an appetite for heavy, voracious rock ‘n’ roll and a great tease for what is to come.

The compelling dynamic beats of David Hjellum lead in next up Dead Man’s Trail, a track swiftly as addictive as its predecessor and unveiling a web of varied flavours in its bold trespass. The bass of Stig Johansen growls with almost bestial temptation, its dark lures contrasted but matched in salacious intent by the gripping enterprise of lead guitarist Christian Schei. Drama soaks every twist and turn, accentuating each inventive note and atmospheric breeze blowing across the track’s serpentine landscape whether melodically calm or tempestuously intense.

That mellower air blows through the following Fields of Bones in voice and music though there is always a certain volatility waiting to catch which it does with a dirtier, grouchier eruption. Virulently catchy and manipulatively fascinating, the song is quite superb and if the album collapsed in on itself thereon in, with its two companions, would make Outlander a notable recommendation.

Of course the album does not slip from its heights, Fortuneteller and God Eater just as beguiling as they devour the senses. The first, and one of the candidates for best song, is a relentlessly nagging irritancy on ears, riffs and rhythms alone harassing quick submission for its proposal with vocals again pure raw seduction in the midst of the guitars tenaciously resourceful webbing. Its successor has a more concussive touch tempered by grooves which crawl under the skin with primal desire, again everything offered as predacious as it is irresistible.

Through the early atmospheric suggestiveness of Hadrin’s Wall, a lure which grows more invasive and portentous as the band bears its gladiatorial dexterity, and the even more confrontational, certainly cranky, Heirophant, the real world is an even more distant reality, band and album consuming all attention soon gripped even tighter by the senses enveloping, discord blessed Lightyears. With grooves which worm into the psyche with ease and a tempestuousness that roars upon the senses from within a mercurial sonic cyclone, the song is just majestic yet still eclipsed by the mighty Monstrosity. With waspish grooves swarming the senses from the first second and vocals buffeting ears with their emotive holler, the track soon steals best moment upon Outlander in our ears, its voluminous rock ‘n roll manna.

The album’s title track finds a somewhat moderate attack in comparison to the previous track but as expected with a threat of a brutal eruption at any time. It is a peril which remains lurking around as melodies and harmonies radiate though it does have a say on the growing energy and flurry of the encounter before the extensive creative theatre of Space Ghost unfolds. With an eager lilt towards thrash metal at times across its sinuously textured evocation, preying on body and imagination at every turn and there are plenty across its nine minutes plus, immersion into the song’s crafty tale is easy.

Uncharted Waters completes the exceptional adventure of Outlander, its thick shadows and dark depths as transfixing as the sound as they colour. An array of flavours twisted into a coiled spring, nothing predictable escaping as it tenses and discharges its enterprise, the track is an enthralling finale to one remarkable album to which we can give numerous references to others for certain moments but really only embraces its own uniqueness.

There will be many important propositions across 2018, encounters which will guide its musical direction and Mammüth with Outlander has come up with the first.

Outlander is available now through Negative Vibe Records across most online stores.

Pete RingMaster 18/01/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Possessor – The Ripper

UK metallers Possessor have been a band fear and lust has equally and simultaneously been spawned for in the face of each release uncaged since they emerged within the death throes of 2013. The band’s doom nurtured, thrash fuelled sound is a crushing and violating experience but one which has enslaved body, imagination, and soul here with its virulent, invasive boogie. The London trio recently released new album The Ripper and we can tell you nothing has changed. Their third album is a cauldron of corrosive riffs and destructive rhythms honed into one of the rawest, insatiable, and thrilling trespasses you are likely to hear across this coming year and beyond.

As much grunge, stoner, and alternative metal as those earlier mentioned hues, Possessor’s sound is pure predatory confrontation often as demonic and lewd as the horror soaked premises it spawns. The band’s 2014 debut album, Electric Hell, was an unpolished gem of an introduction providing “a thrilling ticket to the start of their inevitable ascending ride.” It was a journey which has bruised and abused, gripped and thrilled across the following Stay Dead EP a year later and second full-length Dead By Dawn eighteen or so months on. The last album really thrust the band into new spotlights but it has to be said that all have been rousingly eclipsed and put in their place by the carnal majesty of The Ripper.

Instantly opener Conjure and Possess casts a sonic storm over the senses, its abrasive scouring the warm up and prelude to a ravenous stomp of riffs and rhythms bound in the most lustful of grooves. A temptation to rock the residents of a graveyard into life with the swinging beats of Matthew Radford as arousing as they are destructive, the track roars through ears bearing the raw dirty vocal tones of guitarist Graham Bywater with open devilment. The bass of Tom Fowler is just as devilish, its own grooved swing instinctive incitement in the multi-flavoured onslaught.

The following Guillotine is just as fevered in its attack, maybe more so but unafraid to slip into less intensive examinations of the listener as it conjures its own web of salacious grooves and rapacious enterprise. Bywater’s voice and riffs infest ears but even more so his grooves and sonic espionage manipulates body and appetite already caught by the primal claws of the rhythms.

Fowler’s bass finds an even more carnivorous voice for the following Wet Cemetery, its visceral gurning leading a wash of rasping riffs within which vocals spew causticity. Toxic melodies vein the relative calm which separates the song’s energetic lust, it all leading to moments of nefarious endeavour which itself is sheer magnetism. A mesh of essences which lure references to bands such as High On Fire, Cavalera Conspiracy, Electric Wizard, and Unsane, flavours rising throughout the album, the track emerges unique to Possessor and again a common factor to The Ripper echoed in The Slime immediately after and thereon in. The fourth track hits its crunchy stroll instantly, snarling riffs chewing sinew before grooves send liquor coated tendrils through ears, its varied metallic irritancy swiftly addictive as the psyche is increasingly possessed.

Through the grim viscera of Whitechapel Murders and the scalding tension of Lava, the scorching of the senses and unrestrained pleasure escalates, the first of the two bearing the early Therapy? scent our ears have always found and greedily consumed within the Possessor sound. Every part of the band’s unholy trinity is on the top of their game, a success applying across the whole release but at their hungriest or certainly most fervid here. Its successor is an inferno of threat and intrigue, less equipped with irresistible hooks and addiction sparking grooves than others around it but just as commanding in its escalating incessancy.

Notting Hell opens in a jungle of rhythmic machination, the piece a brief shamanic infestation of devilry setting up the blood strewn quarrel and sonic narcotic that is Hacksaw. The most barbarous exploit on the album, it is a bestial and concentrated blitz on the listener, manna for the beleaguered senses and primal rock ‘n’ roll instincts.

A pause as things take a breath simply marks the insatiable devouring sprung by closing instrumental Earth Shaker. It is a rampage driven by a horde of voracious riffs and fearsome rhythms with grooves and twists just as mercilessly toxic and though it does not quite hit the spot as fully as what came before, the track consumes attention and satisfaction with ease.

There are few bands which truly excite just from news of a new encounter with them but Possessor is among them and will continue to be so with hellish offerings like The Ripper.

The Ripper is available now through Graven Earth Records on cassette, Wicked Lester Records on CD, and digitally @

 Pete RingMaster 10/01/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Concrete Lung – Fumes

There is no denying we have a major soft spot here for British industrial-doomer Concrete Lung though that pleasurable weakness might be as much from the concussion from listening to thementally devouring, physically punishing sounds spawn as any lustful inclinations. There is something about its dissonance soaked invention and vitriol fuelled imagination which gets under the skin and inflames our own emotive quarrels; a connection which has never been stronger than with the project’s new album Fumes. Like its title might suggest, it is a suffocating severely invasive affair, debilitating and cancerous, and oh so irresistible.

The successor to 2014 leviathan Tolerance & Dependency, the nerve shredding Fumes sees  Ed Oxime at his most sonically corrosive and emotively discordant yet but equally at his most destructively virulent to date. In their own ways, each of the seven tracks within the album stalk and hunt down the listener, devouring their light and feeding on their weaknesses but in turn sparking a cathartic release as potent as that you imagine the pair found giving birth to Fumes.

As its predecessors, Fumes does not want to be liked nor does it care the emotional waste its ruinous exploits cause but as opener The Harbinger proves, if it’s kind of raw attrition and toxic sufferance is your masochistic poison the rewards are exhilarating. It rumbles into view, like a distant portentous storm with swift sonic winds to the fore. Its cavernous air soon becomes a senses smothering cloud of mordant noise, industrial death knells clanging as the track nags and niggles its way into the psyche. Equally the vocals lay a caustic glaze on the infernal incursion, the pressure and animosity intense yet infectiously virulent.

Of course there is no respite as Spinning In The Grave prowls in straight after and it too gives no inch as it consumes the senses in sound as vocals and words unleash their antipathy. Equally though, it has its own death dealing swing, heavy rapacious grooves winding rather than swaying around ears but with a contagiousness which cannot help but infest song, vocals, and listener alike. It grinds the defences down, though admittedly a willing submission just waiting to grab the salacious manipulations on offer; they then asphyxiated by the tsunami of sonic jaundice brought by When The Blind Man Sees You. Its lumbering pestilence is equally addictive, preying on thoughts and emotions whilst seducing with its senses scarring funereal swing and though for over seven minutes it crawls over the listener, it just leaves too soon.

Dissension I is just a carnal schism uniting noise and fear in a sonic smog of dissent, softening up already wasted senses further for A Thousand Years to venomously scrutinize and erode layer by layer with its industrial acid before the wounds are further decomposed by the post punk entangled, doom spawned album title track. There is an early Killing Joke hue to the tenebrific skulk of the track’s climate and gait, its compelling echo adding to the sublimely lethal lure of a highly addictive consumption.

Ending on the starkly raw dissolution of, well everything with Dissension II, the perpetual scourge of Fumes is filthily primal, severely uncomfortable, and permanently scarring but one of the most exhilarating violations heard pretty much since Concrete Lung’s last intrusion. The band has become more creatively dangerous and sonically insightful so beware, be brave, and go enjoy.

Fumes is out now through Armalyte Industries; available @

Pete RingMaster 01/12/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Devil Electric – Self Titled

Looking for some new dark and heavy rock ‘n’ roll, especially some with flames of lava-esque blues within encroaching doom bred shadows? Then there is a good chance that the debut album from Australian heavy rockers Devil Electric will have the senses buzzing. Offering nine predacious slabs of seventies inspired heavy goodness with a virulent catchiness in its grooves alone, the release declares a new mouth-watering force in town.

Hailing from Melbourne in the midst of 2015, Devil Electric swiftly began honing a potent reputation for their sound and live presence, the latter seeing the quartet play alongside the likes of Truckfighters, The Sword, Kadaver, and Endless Boogie over time. Last year saw the well-received, highly praised release of their first EP, The Gods Below, which saw the band subsequently lured by and signing with German label Kozmik Artifactz for the release of their swiftly gripping self-titled album.

It opens up with Monologue (Where You Once Walked), quickly raising intrigue and appetite for spicy portentous rock ‘n’ roll with its opening prowl. Entangled in juicy grooves and driven by raptorial riffs and rhythms, the track soon steps into a seriously contagious stroll, thumping beats and intrusively pulsating bass lures a bestial temptation and grooves a fiery vining of the senses. In the midst of the instinctive seduction the richly magnetic tones of vocalist Pierina O’Brien roar; her voice another irresistible focal point among so many in the song fair to say.

The starter is glorious, almost reason alone to check out the album but quickly matched by the equally compelling exploits of Shadowman. As quickly as the first grips ears and imagination, its successor swings on them with irresistible dexterity and endeavour, grooves again winding around the appetite as rhythms belligerently unload their intent. Marching through ears with an antagonistically commanding air, the track proceeds to spread fiery fingers, guitarist Christos Athanasias spinning a web of flirtation as the blended trespass of bassist Tom Hulse and drummer Mark Van De Beek court and invade the senses.

The sultry flirtations of Lady Velvet wind their charms around the listener next, O’Brien leading the heated vines of the guitar with her beckoning tones. Alongside her Hulse’s voice makes a potent backing, always understated in the mix but a firm texture which works perfectly with O’ Brien’s. Ultimately the song maybe does not have the same thrust as its predecessors, preferring more of a smouldering attack but it too is created from a tapestry of sonic imagination and rhythmic enticement this time with just a sense of physical rabidity involved.

Acidic Fire similarly has a fire borne climate and siren like call to its body, O’Brien the central protagonist but more than matched by the sonic weaving of Athanasias. In many ways the song crawls over the body and psyche, enjoyably searing the senses before the bestial gait and muscle of Monolith brings its own instrumental sludge thick crawl to bear. After its softening up of defences, the mercurial air of The Dove And The Serpent immerses ears, its climate soaked in danger and seduction as it dances in ears like a sonic equivalent of festivities bred from a mix of venomous isolation a la The Wicker Man and The Witches.

Both The Sacred Machine and Lilith with their individual trespasses keep the rich temptation flowing, the first with its invasive yet bewitching blaze of sound and intensity, the second with its haunting atmosphere and exotic mystique. The latter is an instrument which swiftly has the imagination conjuring whilst seeming to set up the atmosphere of the equally enticing and occasionally salaciously moody Hypnotica. The closing track and the band’s new single, the song is six minutes plus of flaming ambiences, emotive intensity, and sonic webbing; all primed to seduce and enslave the senses and in turn the imagination.

It is a mouth-watering end to a striking at times ear withering but persistently thrilling first full outing with Devil Electric; a band seemingly drawing on the inspirations of bands such as Black Sabbath, Graveyard, The Dead Weather, Jess and the Ancient Ones, and Blood Ceremony but forging their own individual incantations.

The Devil Electric album is available now via Kozmik Artifactz @

Pete RingMaster 02/10/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Morass of Molasses – These Paths We Tread

The first album from UK trio Morass of Molasses has definitely been one encounter we have here been keenly anticipating, almost from the day the band first stepped forward with a couple of senses infesting, psyche twisting tracks. Their fusion of doom, sludge, and stoner bred textures served in a swamp of aural filth just fed all the instincts and continued to through their debut EP a few months after. Now we have These Paths We Tread to devour, an album which we will admit had us a touch unsure initially.

Instantly enjoyable, These Paths We Tread still had thoughts crowding to contemplate its new proposal of sound. Morass Of Molasses has lured their music from the filth infested depths of the swamp into a cleaner yet still aurally clinging landscape. That is not to say that it does not still come with a healthy coating of scuzz and doom lined dirt but it is a lumbering trespass of sound which is almost more celebratory than predatory. Quite simply their sound has matured, grown up even, and hindsight through listening back at certainly that last EP, So Flows Our Fate, shows it was an evolution on the cards even back then. To be honest we miss the filth but it has not stopped These Paths We Tread through time and listens blossoming into one seriously striking encounter loaded with the potential of even greater adventures ahead with the threesome of vocalist/baritone guitarist Bones ‘The Beard’ Huse, lead guitarist Phil ‘The Mountain’ Williams, and drummer Chris ‘The Beast’ West.

These Paths We Tread gets off to a mighty start with My Leviathan, its gentle caresses of melody and atmospheric waves a deceptive coaxing into the waiting jaws of colossal riffs and flirtatiously tangy grooves. Settling into a predacious crawl entwining raw causticity with salacious seduction, the song roams ears and imagination like a primal siren. Bones’ raw throaty roars share pure toxicity at times, his hostile tones matched by the punchy rhythms of West but tempered by his own calmer vocal tempting and the sonic web cast by Williams. Continually twisting through an array of perpetual incitement on ears and appetite, the track is glorious, its emerging funkiness icing on the feral cake.

Recent times has seen MOM tear into stages alongside the likes of Orange Goblin, Ohhms, Vodun, Elephant Tree, Desert Storm, Space Witch, Sea Bastard, Gurt, and Limb among many others, and there are essences of a few of these within second track So They Walk. Its grooves seep Orange Goblin/Kyuss like taunting whilst its irritable side has a Sleep like causticity, all merged into a distinct MOM recipe and a track like its predecessor which hits the spot with relish.

Continuing themes of “mythic sin and ancient archetypes”, album and next up Serpentine lyrically and musically bind the listener in evocative textures. The third track winds around ears with a dexterity and sonic adeptness emulating its title, grooves almost slithering across the imagination as rhythms bite. Bones’ warm if emotionally deceitful vocals contrast the underlying volatility of the track superbly, also erupting at times to spark a sonic wave fuelling greater weight and intensity throughout. It is a bewitching affair, not as instantly gripping as the first pair of songs but blossoming with every listen into an instinctive temptation before the brief incantation of The Ritual lures and the haunting presence of Centralia descends. A weave of stoner bred enterprise lined with provocative shadows and ghostly whispers as infectious rhythms drive a rolling canter, the second of the two is a well of suggestion coloured by the skilful adventure of Williams on guitar strings.

Next up Maenads is a psychosis of drama and sound, simultaneously enthralling and threatening with seduction and primal toning. It is fair to say, as the album, the track grows and infests deeper into the psyche with every taking of its inflamed intoxication; its melodic anaesthetic fascinating and feral instincts tantalising before things end with Wrath Of Aphrodite, a song which maybe did not quite spark the passions as richly as its companions yet has body and appetite for more bouncing to its groove woven, heavily boned rock ‘n’ roll.

Certainly for fans of the band, These Paths We Tread  will maybe need time to grow and develop on ears and thoughts though newcomers will find Morass of Molasses a quick persuasion we are sure. Yes we still miss the filth but the album blossoms into something thickly compelling and increasingly pleasurable; how stupid of us to doubt with those first thoughts.

These Paths We Tread is out now through HeviSike Records in various formats @ and

Pete RingMaster 24/05/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Show Of Bedlam –Transfiguration

They may not be the most prolific of bands recording wise but without doubt when Canadians doomsters Show Of Bedlam uncage their creative imaginations and sonic dexterity it results in something truly irresistible and memorable. That claim is richly confirmed yet again with the band’s new seven track EP/mini album, the quite stunning and unnerving Transfiguration.

The Show Of Bedlam sound has never been solely confined by that doom tagging, their fusion of sludge, post hardcore and punk, and atmospheric malevolence a cauldron of raw and transfixing invention and suggestion but never has it been so mesmeric, bone-chilling, and psychotically arcane as within Transfiguration. The release is a furnace of raw emotion and intensity soaked in a suffocating beauty; the band creating an evocation of macabre intrigue and corrosive psychosis which if the Witchfinder General was still a figure of ‘responsibility’ would have Show Of Bedlam burning at the stake.

From their debut release as one half of the split Autocannibalist with Jucifer in 2009 to first album Roont in 2012 and now Transfiguration, Montréal hailing Show Of Bedlam has kept ears and fears waiting and richly rewarded. The time between releases has seen the band continue to nurture and hone, push and experiment with a sound which is instinctively unique and dramatically imposing. For all their previous successes, Transfiguration is easily the band’s finest moment to date and the moment they surely blossom from a widely known secret to a fully-fledged inspiration within the metal scene.

Twelve minute opener Blue Lotus immediately engulfs the senses with its sonic smog of intrigue and melodic discord; enticing and intimidating in equal measure as it crowds the listener ready for the equally haunting and inescapable prowess of Paulina Richards’ presence and voice. There is virulence to all the dark thoughts and visceral imagery escaping the stifling atmospheric density; infectiousness as easily trespassing body and thoughts as the psychosis of sound carrying it. With a gothic wash equally blossoming and recalling Xmal Deutschland at times, the glorious predator of a track swallows the listener with its tapestry of creative spite and despair simultaneously disturbing and invigorating with its oppressive magnificence and intimate examination of the senses.

Latest single Taelus swiftly follows, teasing ears with its melodic beckoning as beats wait to lay an occasionally anthemic hand on an already eager appetite. As a sample lurks, the song simmers and bubbles, bursting from its confines as vocals and guitars entwine in another caustic wash of sonic tempting stalked by the hungry rumblings of bass. As its predecessor, the similarly deceitfully catchy track is as descriptive sonically as it is vocally, every fresh wave and adventure of intensity and cunning a new twist in the nightmarish landscape painted note by note, syllable by syllable.

At two minutes plus, the album’s title track is a short and powerful insight into a blossoming defiance and turning of the worm within a rhythmically entrancing and gripping affair, inciting the senses physically and  emotionally before Hall of Mirrors rises from its slumber with carnivorous breath and intent. It crawls over the listener, dragging its sludgy weight and doomy intensity with rapacious relentlessness as Richards roars with unbridled emotive intensity and persuasion. It too ebbs and flows with energy and greater volcanic urgency, consuming the senses with lava-esque ferocity lined with more of the band’s contagious groove spited toxicity; it all leading to a climax which simply consumes all before it.

Lamentation offers a respite of sorts, its twenty odd seconds a detour into a fresh fly infested charnel house from which the oppressive elegance and invasive almost cancerous  tempest of Easter Water broods and escapes. With every passing second it looms up and imposes its weight and immersive embrace, bullying whilst igniting ears and imagination. Subsequent slips into less intensive though no less spine-chilling and fearsome pastures as well as the darkest corners only adds to the theatre of sound and its realm of the portentously obscure, and to the imagery festering and conjuring in the imagination.

Closed by the brief sonic ruin of L’Appel Du Vide, quite simply Transfiguration is glorious; daunting and alarming for sure but a sonically and emotionally distressed alchemy of sound and invention which leaves the majority of releases this year so far and easy to suspect to come, looking bland and uneventful. As the world falls further into disaster and decay, so Show Of Bedlam rises, their sound and new offering the perfect soundtrack and antidote.

Transfiguration is released May 12th through PRC Music and Sentient Ruin Laboratories with pre-ordering available now @ and

Pete RingMaster 18/04/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright