August was not as strong as July regarding metal releases, at least in terms of quantity. Quiet months are welcome, though, as they offer time to indulge in what we do receive. In any case, here are the stand-out releases from this past month.
–Colin Dempsey
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JPEGMAFIA – I LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU | AWAL (August 1)
Yes, a hip-hop record is appearing on an Invisible Oranges feature, but rest assured. JPEGMAFIA’s latest release, I LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU, is worthy of your consideration. Barrington DeVaughn Hendricks, aka JPEGMAFIA, aka Peggy, aka The Rockwood Escape Plan, has been terrorizing the alt-rap landscape for over a decade with a seemingly endless stream of all-caps braggadocio backed by a production style that is less “plunderphonics” and more of an aural armed robbery. His past albums have proved that any sample, whether it be a clip of Ol’ Dirty Bastard yodeling or a jingle from a Japanese knife infomercial, can be fashioned into an improvised weapon. I LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU is no exception. Raw yet meticulously organized, scrappy yet maximalist, the album pursues sonic extremes in a way that should feel familiar to fans of heavy music.
On his fifth solo album, JPEGMAFIA further bolsters his arsenal with electric guitar courtesy of musician and producer Alex Goldblatt. The result is an album that is noticeably darker, which both increases its crossover appeal and leads to even more outlandish instrumentals. Lead single “SIN MIEDO” quotes 2 Live Crew’s 1995 thesis on “big-booty hoes” and further expands on this subject with speaker-rattling bass hits and righteous shred. The ethereal synths and snappy beat that characterize the first half of “JIHAD JOE” are abruptly sidelined by a huge doom metal riff, which barrels its way into the foreground as Peggy shouts punchlines like “sue me for libel, I’m liable to say it again!”
As usual, the lyrics are the album’s weakest link. There are some entertaining bars for sure, but also plenty of standard hip-hop showmanship and drama. The attempts at self-reflection on the last few tracks (i.e., a realization that he has “family and fences to mend”) are often undercut by snide nonsequiturs within the same verse (i.e., he can’t be racist because he also makes it rain on Caucasian strippers). JPEGMAFIA isn’t going to win a Pulitzer anytime soon, but he might place when the Olympic Committee finally adds shit-talking in 2028. In any case, if one can look past the inconsistent lyricism, I LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU is an alluring and unpredictable collage that should not be missed.
–Alex Chan
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Demiser – Slave to the Scythe | Metal Blade (August 23)
Ostensibly, Slave to the Scythe is just a(nother) super-fun blackened thrash record, closer to pure thrash than their 2021 debut, Through the Gate Eternal, and featuring catchier riffs and slightly more ambitious songwriting and nifty arrangement choices. You’ll have a good time with this album if that’s all you’re looking for. The key to Demiser’s appeal, though, is the gleefully blasphemous lyricism such as “Impregnating nuns, demon bastard sons / Release vile seed, cocked loaded guns” and “Falling to submission, bloodletting the flock / While the pious gag on God’s holy cock.” Lest you think they play this Satanic worship straight, though, they’re clearly in on the joke: vocalist Brad Deerhake—who goes by Demiser the Demiser (See?)—is just as likely to snarl tongue-in-cheek absurdity like “Venom pumping poison plums / Bukkake, alas thy will be done.” The South Carolina quintet’s Bandcamp page has the terse description, “BLACK/THRASH OUTFIT TERRORIZING THE BIBLE BELT” because that’s all you need to know.
–Steve Lampiris
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Uniform – American Standard | Sacred Bones (August 23)
I don’t know what other people get out of American Standard. All I hear is my reality reflected back at me. My eating disorder is the title track–glutinous, overbearing, and exhausting. While repeating a single chord for over 10 minutes may be unappealing to some, it was apposite in my case. My condition is not delicate but insistent and gross, and Uniform embodies those qualities on American Standard.
Much of this comes from vocalist Michael Berden’s long history with bulimia nervosa. To capture his experience with the utmost rawness, he worked with B.R. Yeager and Maggie Siebert, both of whom are making the rounds in the indie horror book scene. As Berden stated in The Quietus, he’s been living with bulimia for decades. American Standard is not a document of his recovery but a Rorschach blot of his condition.
Although Berden and I suffer from different eating disorders, his struggles with it and body dysmorphia present similarly to mine on American Standard. I’m constantly in a state of disgust or recovery from an episode. Uniform mirrors this tireless pull on the title track. It’s split into two sections; the first is an upward crawl riding on the back of one chord, while the second has a tad more glimmer. It pantomimes that thought that comes after any episode; this time will be my last. It has been the last time many times.
My focus on American Standard’s title track is not to dismiss the other songs. They are phenomenal, but my connection to them flows through “American Standard.” There is no barrier between it and me because it is uncomfortably close to my life. My complex web of sensations should not translate to music, but through Berden’s experiences, they did. Miraculously, Uniform put the serpent that crawls through my brain to tape.
—Colin Dempsey
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Concrete Winds – Concrete Winds
Although it arrives completely absent of subtlety, Concrete Winds’ self-titled third album quickly separates itself from the throngs of loud, unparseable death metal offerings out there by having start-to-finish riffs. There’s not a single moment that waffles or deliberates — it’s straight to the action, with nine songs jammed into 25 minutes of minutely controlled chaos. High intensity drumming acts like a crucible for the band’s molten intensity, shaping screeching, blustery riffing into monstrous headbangers. It’s technicality wielded with furious intensity, all knobs turned as far as they’ll go and snapped off should they resist. Concrete Winds, as they say in shadowy metal-fixated Discords, ‘fukks’.
–Ted Nubel
