Earth
Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light II
Southern Lord

Having been locked up for about a year (since it was recorded at the same time as Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light I), Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light II finally meets its emancipation, and while you’ve no doubt got its dark, drawn out revelry already figured out, there are some differences to be noted between the two sisters. For one, II is only three quarters of an hour long, a good fifteen minutes shorter than I, despite the same number of songs, and in Earth terms, that’s a good spell. That doesn’t mean it feels any less shorter, though, and that’s largely due to II‘s more optimistic tone. If I was the descent, II is the ascent, punctuated by more prominent contributions from Adrienne Davies’ percussion and Lori Goldston’s cello, both of which seem to pull songs like “Waltz (A Multiplicity of Doors)” and “The Corascene Dog” toward the glowing embers of some distant fire. Much like I — and Earth’s last few albums before it — II is a dust n’ bones affair, albeit a somewhat more redemptive one, meaning it’s got plenty of that hypnotic Americana gothic sound worked into the band’s signature drone doom, but the way Dylan Carlson’s guitar reaches for something akin to a riff on “The Rakehell” is a subtle but dynamic move that reveals beauty and hope in the blackness.

Listen to “The Corascene Dog” from Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light II!

Black Pyramid
Black Pyramid II
Meteorcity

Although it’s been kicking around for awhile now, Black Pyramid’s second full-length isn’t slated for an official release until the end of January, but I didn’t even think there was going to be a II given some of the band’s cryptic postings about their demise. Truth be told, I thought they were done, and I still don’t know what the real story is, but lo and behold the band lives, and it just turns out that singer/guitarist Andy Beresky is out, having been replaced by Darryl Shepard of Milligram, Hackman, and Blackwolfgoat fame. However, II‘s hollow steamroller is driven by the original line-up, so consider this your final chance to hear Beresky lead Black Pyramid’s doom machine right into the Earth’s crust and dust. Which is exactly what he does, as Black Pyramid’s signature, banner-flying, fuzzy charge storms the gates of Hades heads down and helmets first. Black Pyramid have always found a home in the fire, and II is certainly no exception; in fact, they appropriate it so damn well that they’ve grown confident enough to spread their blazing wings and fly uncommon patterns, especially on the folksy “Tanelorn” and the album’s two epics, “Dreams of the Dead” and “Into the Dawn.” While “Endless Agony,” “Mercy’s Bane,” “Night Queen,” “Sons of Chaos,” and “The Hidden Kingdom” deliver the familiar Sleep-on-speed thunder we’ve come to expect from Black Pyramid, the band does add a bunch of energized riffs, nasty solos, and tempered breakdowns into the mix, making this effort ambitious and quite successful. There sure is a shit ton of heavy coming out of Massachusetts these days, and only time will tell if Black Pyramid will continue to play a giant part in that with Shepard at the helm (there’s no reason to think they won’t). And what of Beresky? He’s too good to stay down for long, you can count on that.

Listen to “Mercy’s Bane” from Black Pyramid II!

Hull
Beyond the Lightless Sky
The End

Hailing from what seems to be the most magical of all rock n’ roll boroughs right now, Brooklyn, Hull represent that geographical body’s brute Hulk force, and one run through their sophomore album, Beyond the Lightless Sky, will leave you wondering how there are any buildings left standing at all in Kings County. Indeed, Hull’s dense, triple-guitar punishment can reduce anything to rubble, but it is amidst the dust and debris that Hull emerges to capture our collective astonishment by drawing us into their more kindly tempered, idyllic post-rock bosom. Of course, we soon realize it’s all a fantastic ruse, the promise of proximate peace nothing more than a lie designed to get us close enough to crush, and sludgy blows rain down upon us once more. Apparently Beyond the Lightless Sky is some sort of concept album about Mayan brothers, so I’ll just go ahead and assume that’s what all the dudes in the band are screaming about, but what does it for me is the way Hull mixes the massiveness of Omega Massif with the lumbering pace of Harvey Milk and then tosses in some mystical solos for good measure. Beyond heavy, man.

Listen to “Beyond The Lightless Sky” from Beyond the Lightless Sky!