Bezoar
Wyt Deth
No World Order Records

That’s it. You’ve convinced me, Brooklyn. You are now thee number one spot in the world for heavy, weird, fuzzy, psychedelic music. Okay? Hull, Elks, Bad Dream, Weird Owl, Children…and now Bezoar. I’m sure there’s plenty more rats crawling around in the sewers there that I’m not even aware of, but as far as I’m concerned right now, none of ‘em are bigger — or carry more diseases — than Bezoar. I mean, even their name invokes images of a mythical beast from children’s fables, and this three-headed varmint more than lives up to the hairy, red eye scares it promises. Expounding doom-infused wyt noize, Bezoar’s debut full-length, Wyt Deth, is a lumbering mess of feedback and mildewy riffs, a witchy, warbling deth-psych album that’s definitely hard to listen to, but surely impossible to turn off. Whether it’s the short and sweet allure of songs like “Burn Everything” and “Nikola” or the long and devastating hold of songs like “We Are Not Alone” and “Knight,” the whole damn thing is nauseously enchanting, and you might think it sounds like a dungeon full of hungry, dying prisoners moaning for sunlight, water, and mercy, but that’s just Sara Palmquist (bass/vocals), Tyler Villard (guitar), and Justin Sherrell (drums) laying down the most mystical stoner metal you’re likely to hear all year. Awesome stuff.

Listen to Wyt Deth in it’s entirety right here!

Omega Massif
Karpatia
Denovali Records

The moment you begin listening to an Omega Massif album, there’s not a heavier, darker moment occurring anywhere else in the world; it was true of their 2006 debut EP Kalt, it was true of their 2007 debut full-length Geisterstadt, and now the same can be said for their latest album, Karpatia. Knowing the kind of power Omega Massif is capable of harnessing, I feared putting the headphones anywhere near their desired mark lest my skull succumb to the inevitable decibel rape and cave in upon first riff impact. To say the German instrumental band is crushing is an understatement. Many will label ‘em drone sludge, post-metal, or atmospheric doom, but each of those are just rusty links in the thick chain tied to the ten ton anchor that is their sound, which rests in the deepest part of the ocean’s black crevices, a place still and breathless, a place untouched by humanity. Whether drenched in feedback, antagonizing you with its gentler, swelling passages, or unleashing a resounding and brutal assault of monolithic proportions, Karpatia is stone cold terror. You might want to think about finding a happy place with strong walls before you drop the needle on this one, man.

Listen to “Wölfe” from Karpatia!

Weedeater
Jason…The Dragon
Southern Lord

It’s been four years since their last album, but Weedeater’s Jason…The Dragon finally sees its release, no doubt a welcome relief to vocalist/bassist “Dixie” Dave Collins whose shotgun-cleaning accident in January of 2010 left him without a big toe and delayed the album’s recording. Now, I never heard word whether the toe was successfully reattached or whether he blew it to smithereens and is altogether toe-less (or how this incident affected his relationship with his “favourite shotgun”), but it seems Collins’ sacrifice was not in vain because the North Carolina trio (completed by Dave “Shep” Shepherd on guitar and Keith “Keko” Kirkum on drums) has come out the other side of the whole mess with a real nasty bite to ‘em. That’s not to say that Weedeater weren’t as viscous as a frothing rottweiler before with all that feedback n’ fuzz, but Jason seems to find the band one step closer to oblivion; they’ve taken the Southern-fried sludge of earlier albums, dipped it into a big ol’ bucket of doom, and are spit-roasting it over Hell’s hot fires for maximum evil flavour. I mean, the quad shot of “Hammerhandle,” “Mancoon,” “Turkey Warlock,” and “Jason…The Dragon” all sound like Satan mowing over eternally damned souls atop a John Deere while a Motörhead record melts off a turntable into a hot, thick corrosive mess. For tradition’s sake, though, they manage to slip some back porch numbers in there, like the rubbery “Palm and Opium” and the album’s instrumental closer “Whiskey Creek” (complete with the sounds of crickets and rain), and the album title’s play on words (in line with …And Justice for Y’all and God Luck and Good Speed) shows that even without a full slew of digits, the band has kept that (now forked) tongue planted firmly in their tobacco-stained cheek.

Listen to “Mancoon” from Jason…The Dragon!