Album Review: Ghost Bath - Starmourner

Ghost Bath - Starmourner

Northern Silence Productions - 2017

4/10

Being the second installment of Ghost Bath's trilogy of exploring the dread of existentialism, their third full-length overall would finally see more than one year between releases for the first time. Starmourner, as on the nose as it can get for a counterpart to Moonlover, probably has one of my favorite album covers. However, the question of if the music itself matches remains; indeed, this was the last album by the North Dakota outfit I listened to upon release, and haven't since. Knowing the stylistic black/gaze direction the band went, seventy-one minutes of the same style seems like it could run into redundancy, should there not be another evolutionary step.

Unfortunately, that's partially what we end up with, and I was quickly reminded why I haven't revisited it in nine years. There are slight nuances between the trilogy's first installment and this one, which is often all you need, but I find it lacking. At its core, Starmourner is still just as atmospheric in terms of generating a cloudy hue over all of the songs, it's still loaded with howl-cry vocals that are undiscernible from one to another, and soft melodies meeting bright leads still see the "best" moments on the album (And I use that word pretty liberally). The issue is, this idea has a shelf life, and the slight evolutionary aspects either don't help, or completely hurt.

For one, bold as it may sound, Ghost Bath seem to have abandoned the already small traces of black metal that came before for chugs that lean closer to a hardcore aesthetic, short of the occasional blast beat. While this isn't a bad thing in a vacuum, the repetitive nature that Dennis Makula and co. cook up really does not blend well with that, and you wind up with literal minutes of the same chugs back to back like in "Ambrosial." There are some exceptions from time to time, as "Thrones" is very black metal through and through, but even then I struggle to call it more than a basic helping of nothing special. Similarly, the production may be even clearer, another thing that's not always bad in a vacuum; in fact, if there's a positive here, it's that the bass is more prominent than it has ever been before. But with that comes a clearer field for those unflattering vocals to sprout in, working as a focal point rather than a side facet that helped mask them on the previous record.

And finally, as I hinted at the top, all of these things are exacerbated by a record that's entirely too long. The prettier melodies that make up "Celestial" are undeniably pleasant, but hearing them go on for eight fucking minutes with only slight layer additions is exhausting; never mind the fact that a deeper look reveals extremely simplistic leads to begin with, but I'm not quite pretentious enough to care about that too much. But if that's not enough, most of the songs within themselves just meander and resurrect the feeling of minimal vision and maximum throwing ideas at the wall and seeing what sticks. That was passable on the first record due to its raw charm, but becomes impossible to overlook this time. Even if one went the familiar route of leaning on instrumentals again, two of the three, "Principalities" and "Ode," are tacked onto the end, at which point I'm just over this. Even if they weren't, all three are nothing to write home about.

Objectively, you could make a case that Starmourner showcases the most mature record Ghost Bath has put out up to its release, but that absolutely does not make it a better album. Evolution is needed for a style like this, but when every change causes a downgrade in quality, it's not worth it. Utilizing no change would just give us thirty more minutes (on the original forty) of what was a solid effort before, which is also no good. Funeral may have been amateur in execution and overly long, but its uniqueness and charm made many of its errors worth overlooking in the right mood. As for this? I say skip it entirely; it's less than mediocre, and you could make better use of seventy minutes.

P.S. I recently learned that the vocalist has another band called If I Could Kill Myself. Is there really no such thing as self-parody anymore?

Album Review: Ghost Bath - Moonlover

Ghost Bath - Moonlover

Northern Silence Productions - 2015

8.5/10

It's pretty insane how in only a year's time, an extremely elementary-level band with such strange mystique surrounding them can not only grab a far larger audience, but craft a far more focused effort. In a weird way, Ghost Bath grew in popularity around the same time that the city they pretended to be from, Chongqing, began to grow in tourist appeal (and by the 2020s, neither seemed avoidable). This evolution started in the form of Moonlover, not only showcasing more predetermined thought up front, but also compressing things into a more digestible treat. We're left simply asking the question of whether or not this fared well, or if it stripped away the weird charms of yesterday.

And if you asked me personally, I'd tell you that Ghost Bath struck the perfect balance. The unflattering elements of Funeral are suppressed, and its strengths are touched up. Yes, your cry-wail vocal howls are still here, but they're more of a garnish than a focal point. Atmospherically, things aren't as degraded, while maintaining a blackened gradient that levels the playing field, allowing the best moments to jump out as needed. Like before, those elements are the guitar leads which feel sharp as ever, offering melodies with an array of emotion, and layering that boosts whatever mood is most appropriate for the song's structure.

More importantly, I can't stress how favorable it is that Moonlover trims off twenty minutes, offering only six real tracks and "The Sleeping Fields" intro, giving us a smoother ride all around. The melodic licks are equally as important as the atmosphere-drenched tremolos, likely the closest thing to actual black metal on the disc. At no point do I really get vibes that just simply sound like random alternative rock chops meeting a blackmosphere and unconventional vocals, but songwriting intent with an overall narrative. Thus, all we have left to ask ourselves is how pleasant the songwriting itself is.

For the most part, the answer ranges from absolutely gorgeous to decent but fitting. Interestingly, the two longest songs are the ones I cherish the most, both representing opposite sides of the emotional spectrum showcased. "Golden Number," eleven years after its release still blows me away, and I adore every minute of it. The blackened explosive build, breaking into an uplifting lead gives an aura of pulling oneself out of a pit of terror, before repetition molds into a chant hooking off of that same lead. The lone piano outing at the end is simply magnificent, and the nine minute length does not feel that long. On the other side of this is the immediately following, almost as long "Happyhouse," using layers to not only convey extreme sadness but a phase of absolute rage when it reaches its blast-beat apex (ignoring its goofy title).

Everything else falls somewhere in between. Structurally, we're offered more of the same in different variables, but none reach the sheer magnitude of those first two. "Beneath The Shade Tree" and "The Silver Flower (Part I)" are shorter instrumentals that act as a soft and cool core, boasting pleasant melodies via clean tones, the latter caking on a nature setting. "The Silver Flower (Part II)" breaks into the falling action via crushing stomps covered in pain-laced wails, sliding off its interlude quite nicely. You could honestly look at tracks four through six as one gigantic epic because of the way that they flow, but I digress. This brings us to "Death And The Maiden," closing things out by looping in hints at the intro's chords that reappeared a few times throughout the record's center. 

My theory is that Ghost Bath was a throwaway, one-man project with a gimmick that started with weird ideas thrown together, until it wasn't; things actually stuck, and it had to come to full fruition, or risk remaining an unintentional self-parody (though some may argue that it's too late to turn back from that). Moonlover, like its predecessor, is an album that requires the right mood, but is far more intentional in construction, competent in execution, and most importantly, feels complete. Perhaps it drags a bit by the end, but at least it isn't relying on one thing to hold itself intact. Black metal nerds are more than likely going to scoff at it, shoegaze hipsters will absolutely adore it, but the best method is to just enjoy it for what it is; an emotional art piece.

Album Review: Ghost Bath - Funeral

Ghost Bath - Funeral

Self-Released - 2014

7/10

North Dakota's Ghost Bath is one of the least-likely but weirdly earliest discoveries in my extreme metal journey, as they hit my radar far before I had a true appreciation for these styles, let alone black metal itself. Thus, looking back to 2014 when they were an entire enigma to me, against my current understanding of musical nuances, and in an age where this band broke some serious ground, a seriously interesting retrospective look is inevitable. Being an obvious standout in the band's now five-album catalogue, it turns out that Funeral is the most fun one to revisit, despite all of its weaknesses and... niches.

By now it's no secret that Ghost Bath aren't simply black metal due to unforgiving breakneck backdrops, vicious vocal attacks, nor Satanic might in the form of meaner thrash templates. Rather, the debut works that label by softening the tones in some areas while heightening them in others. More often than not, your tremolos, a black metal staple, are presented under an airier sheen that go for the effect of unsettling without extreme. Reverberations play a large part, but the minor-toned rhythms are what really cast a light feeling of loneliness in an unfamiliar plane rather than in a cold dark forest, especially with those dissonant soft licks in the beginning of "Burial."

Though this is barely what would cause something to pass for metal alone, it's likely the regular presence of extreme drum blasts that contrast this to allow it to fall into this category. Such a delivery is equally what lands it in that "post / gaze / depressive" territory, black metal's corniest trend that broke in the past decade (which is really saying something). And of course, the elephant in the room is the moaning howl vocals that, due to a flat production, jump out far more than one is often ready for. While I find this to be really unflattering, the plus side is that the same effect is applied to the softer, alternative rock-oriented sadboi leads that single handedly save Funeral from being a dumpster fire.

And trust me when I say, this is the best reason to revisit the band's first record. A proper mood is absolutely needed, you'll want a high tolerance for horrendous vocals, and the ability to compartmentalize the different layers certainly can't hurt. But amidst this raw mess, there are some absolute fucking bangers that carry us away. Mentioning "Burial" again, it casts imagery of an actual funeral, and one in the environment that the Ophelia painting on the album art depicts. It has some of the meanest riffs on the whole album (which are few and far), as well as an eerie array of shrieks, calm leads, and epic feelings that would translate better on future efforts.

Use this as a template for combing the swamp for the other strong statements. Because of the vocals, instrumentals are a tactful move, and Funeral boasts four of them. "Birth" miraculously paints a life-giving emotion of redemption, being the sole happier feeling on the whole record, before "Forever" brings things back to reality to send us off. (Ever listen to "All For You" by Sister Hazel? The main lick on "Birth" almost mirrors its intro). "Procession" might be our most obvious example of soft-tremolos leading into a fierce blackened attack, while its predecessor "Silence" is a lone guitar number that fills the gap with another feeling of abandonment. The intro riff to "Calling" and the general progression of opener "Torment" are as full-on catchy as they are unsettling, working alt-rock rhythms with a grainy overcast. Meanwhile, "Sorrow" absolutely nails dirge-like facets with rain backing a piano; the chanting at the end of that one still makes my gut churn. Really, there are so many strong moments worth sifting the disc to find, though more than an hour of this was absolutely not necessary (especially the one minute of literally nothing that is "Afterlife").

Indeed, we have before us one of the most conflicting albums in terms of how I feel in my entire collection, and as smoothly as Ghost Bath's career may evolve, objectively better isn't always more interesting. In the right mood, this is an extremely nuanced art piece that casts an abstract narrative capable of making David Lynch blush (R.I.P.). In any other mood, it's a tough swallow, and I think the general makeup is very shoddy; it just got quite lucky when some of what was hurled at the wall actually stuck. Teenage me thought this was laughable in the way current me thinks Silencer is, though in retrospect they're almost nothing alike. I recall finding its "creepy" elements "creepier" when I thought Ghost Bath was from China, but that was likely some small-town white-boy casual racism at play (especially considering how much I've grow to adore China). If you like black metal, shoegaze, alternative rock, or any odd structured combo of those things, I say it's worth at least hearing to quell curiosities.

Album Review: Testament - Para Bellum

Testament - Para Bellum

Nuclear Blast Records - 2025

7/10

In my little streak of tackling old-guard thrash metal bands in the modern age, there seemed no better time to return to one of my favorite ones, despite letting me down back to back in 2016 and 2020 respectively. Like their Bay Area counterparts in Exodus and Megadeth, my bias sees them trudging on a bit past expiration. Admittedly, Para Bellum felt like a clear step up from what was going on in the previous two generic reruns, but upon revisiting, I still don't think it holds the weight that seems to have taken many a fan by storm. Nonetheless, if there's one sin I can't call it guilty of, that's it being a samey generic effort of repetition.

Indeed, Titans Of Creation did tamper with blackened experimentation, primarily in the vocal shrieks that become a tad more prominent this time around. However, blast beats and tremolo picking even up the ante a little bit. True, the former have been present in Testament songs in the past, but they take on a completely different role this time, which kind of realizes the aim that ultimately did little on their last record. Nothing is held back, as that makes itself evident immediately on opener "For The Love Of Pain," and "Witch Hunt" takes this to a faster front. The closing title track nears this territory too, though it's probably closer to the death metal influence that has long been a staple for Skolnick and co. Neat as this all may be, I think I can conclude that Testament isn't quite made for black metal, as it just makes me want to listen to actual black metal bands.

There is still lots of room for no-frills thrash fueled by societal strain, which I think found its meanest footing in "Infanticide A.I.," managing to lash back at this dystopian-gone-normal concept in a way that doesn't feel forced. Similarly, "Shadow People" casts a compelling net of equal parts compelling melody and crushing fury, taking the slot of my favorite track. But for every one of these, there's a generic by-the-numbers tune that feels empty, mainly looking at "High Noon," and "Nature Of The Beast" (as if "Black Jack" wasn't corny enough). "Room 117" could probably grow on me, as it has a charming flow and catchy vibe that doesn't fit but certainly isn't bad, as could "Havana Syndrome," which feels like filler that still works really well?

With all of this inconsistency going on, I have to also at least give Para Bellum props for having the audacity to sneak a ballad into this mix. Not just any ballad, but a long, drawn-out acoustic one in "Meant To Be." Softee Chuck Billy is an overlooked aspect of Testament that I am so glad made a comeback, even if this hardly fits in the context of the already jumbled record. A win is a win, and even in his old age the melancholic and emotional gradient is ever present, casting an epic build in the midst of chaos.

Therefore, giving credit where it's due, this is easily Testament's best work in over a decade. Like many in their scene, the bar isn't exactly set that high, but I can't pretend that there a couple songs here that made an impression on me. The album as a whole isn't remarkable, but the sheer boldness and ambition behind it is worth commending. Walking away with a few songs that actually stick is nice as well, and I can confidently say that this would be a hell of an album to end a long career on (so ya know, take the hint, guys).

Album Review: Exodus - Goliath

Exodus - Goliath

Napalm Records - 2026

6.5/10

Right from the gate, I need to make it clear that I've had little time for or interest in anything Exodus has put out since Shovel Headed Kill Machine. Perhaps a controversial statement to call that one the end of a transitional era that started with Force Of Habit, everything following it has ranged from competent but uninspiring to outright bad, regardless of the frontman. So hearing that the Bay Area giants have re-recruited Rob Dukes for another record really didn't curate much excitement on my part. In fact, I went into Goliath with a pretty negative mindset alone.

And while I still don't particularly care for this record as a whole, I'm amazed to say that it actually did strike a few chords and wound up being something I consider at least worth acknowledging. After the long break, Dukes' vocals somehow sound more refined in his older age, feeling like a middle-ground between his former overdone shrieks and Zetro's signature snarl. Along with this, we find a little bit more focus that may just allow for a catchy number here or there, or at least one that feels somewhat engaging. For the most part, that lies with the ones that dial back the over-the-top aggression, likely just feeling more original, rather than the continuous rehashing of overproduced thrash by-the-numbers.

Unfortunately, that latter point is still all over the place. What really doesn't help is that buzzing tone that has plagued Exodus's riffs for the better part of two decades now. Similarly, they're still unable to escape overly try-hard, almost goofy lyrics that I can't believe came from people pushing sixty. "Hostis Humani Generis" definitely comes to mind first, and even as much as opener "3111" is an earworm, I really struggle to take its general plastic feel seriously (did anybody else hear the "111" as "world war one" on first listen?). I can appreciate the title track for taking a doom-laced approach in such a slow tempo to match the titan-like vibes, but it ultimately trudges on and leads nowhere. I could say the same about "Summon Of The God Unknown" as well, being far too long for its own good despite its obvious attempt at an (imminent) impact, and the delivery almost feels robotic.

On a more positive front, a couple songs help Goliath stand apart from other modern era records. "The Changing Me" feels like a true mosh anthem without it being obvious, and the thunderous bass and higher licks definitely help it. I'll throw it props for breaking precedence in the melodic chorus without being awkward. Speaking of melody, "Promise You This" is a nicer tune that cakes in plenty of that, allowing some older attitude to sneak in beside one of Gary Holt's best solos on the album. "2 Minutes Hate" has a groovy stomp to it that matches the refined vocal style quite well despite, you guessed it, my inability to take it very seriously. Beyond this, despite some decent licks near the end, I find myself tired of the album and its generic overcast by the time I reach the last few songs.

In the way I feel about the final Megadeth album, this isn't anything overly bad or worth scoffing at, but I have long reached the point of not wanting more from Exodus (even though I ever-so-slightly prefer this record to Megadeth). It certainly didn't need to exceed the fifty minute mark, but if this were the album the band went out on, I would say it could certainly be worse. Better than either Exhibition album, but that's a low bar. My biases are clear, and regardless of yours, I say tread lightly. 

Album Review: Dokken - Under Lock And Key

Dokken - Under Lock And Key

Elektra Records - 1985

9.5/10

1985 has to be one of my favorite years for metal, if only because it was around then when all the late '70s and early '80s so-called "VHS metal" bands were spreading from their general heavy metal sleaze and adapting a more defined sounds. Dokken are such a fun example of this, as they heavily hinted at a warmer sound under the accessible yet thunderous scope in Tooth And Nailed, and leaned even deeper into the glam metal sensation without ditching the riffs, big solos, or attitude. George Lynch and co. long established their ability to even craft a ballad that doesn't drift from the roots in "Alone Again," so it only makes sense that they could spruce up the same idea and double down with MTV pop sensation while continuing to bring the weight. Perhaps less of a hot take now than it would have been a decade ago, Under Lock And Key is just as powerful, if only more accessible, and is pumped with just as much life as its heavier counterpart.

On the surface, all this really means is putting a little more of the catchy emphasis on the choruses, making them easy enough to sing-along to and become an earworm, while crispening up the production just a tad. If there's really one fundamental difference between the prior record and this one, it's the latter point. Indeed, the raw grit that came with some of the speed oriented tracks is void this time around, giving Dokken's overall vibe a welcoming aura, but less mean doesn't always mean less heavy, and it certainly doesn't signal a drop in quality. The fact is, every track still works wonders beside one another regardless of the varying degrees of hairspray being applied.

This becomes evident immediately. Opener "Unchain The Night" is one of the band's most iconic songs for good reason. Despite its melodic core and falsetto-laced chorus, that rhythm section has loads of crushing bite, and the clearer coating may even let the harder drumlines that carry it pop even more. "Lightning Strikes Again" comes through in a similar manner, hearkening back to the speedier elements that Dokken is no stranger to, doubling down with furious falsetto outbursts as the song sees itself out. On a similar note, "Til The Livin' End" caps us off with almost Dimebag-esque fret-crawls not uncommon on Pantera's I Am The Night, acting like a part two to "Lightning Strike Again."  Hell, even as much as one could quickly dismiss the gang-chant corniness of "It's Not Love," it fits flawlessly into the bassy slow crawl and heavy backing. Full-fledged heavy hitters like this may be lesser in number, but their influence permeates the rest of the disc, and that consistency is crucial.

That very fact is why I'll urge you to observe the more "obvious" numbers with the same lens. "In My Dreams" screams pop-metal with Def Leppard coated radio rockisms all over it, but even if you don't like the incredibly catchy hooks that make its chorus so huge, one cannot ignore the gigantic solo and the riff-resolve that contrasts a nice crunch beside the synths. Similarly, "Don't Lie To Me" is an overlooked backside of this that I think utilizes the poppy chorus just as well with vocal trade-offs, even if the energy doesn't feel quite as mighty. Of course, I can't not mention "Slippin' Away," as it's very clearly a softee through and through, but beautiful composition under more genuine emotion lets its place beside "In My Dreams" feel so organic. I get why our heavy hunters may not like this one, but I don't think it feels out of place, and I love every minute of it (maybe it's because I too am a softee). "Will The Sun Rise" might just be this tune's counterpart, acting as an acceptance of the situation and curating a hopeful feeling on a somber, early morning.

The only factor holding Under Lock And Key back from double perfection is that its fillers are just a little less memorable than I'd like. "Jaded Heart" and "The Hunter" are not bad songs by any stretch of the word; the former seems to attempt an acoustic-driven repeat of "Alone Again" but sadly misses the same fervor. The latter is a decent sing-along that I dig well enough, but I'd be lying if I said I don't wind up coming off the energy of "Unchain The Night" just looking forward to hearing "In My Dreams." Regardless, if these are the worst songs on an album, then you've struck gold.

Under Lock And Key is full of bangers that landed big in LA with a fitting, overlooked counterpart, all wrapped up into one consistent ride full of fun, both heavy and hearty. If there's one reason why Dokken has such a heavy association with the glam metal world, I owe it to this record. Synths, clear production, and catchy choruses are all over the place, but I think it compliments the heavier foundation, rather than taking away from it. If I can be crass for a moment, it's like realizing that your partners sex toys are your friend, not your competition. Get out of your head and into your body, mate!

Album Review: Bathory - Bathory

Bathory - Bathory

Black Mark Productions - 1984

8.5/10

When analyzing the early output of a band that would go on to define an entire genre, it's easy to immediately mark their debut as the best of the craft, especially when it sort of ties together the ingredients that were hinted at by earlier acts. Giving credit where it's due, Kill 'Em All, Scream Bloody Gore, and other genre-cementing albums do indeed contain the fervor of precisely what made the genre so wonderful. Despite obvious evolution in Metallica and Death respectively, there's absolutely no question that their debuts are still some of the best in their genres, at least in my humblest of opinions. Sweden's Bathory is different, because in a weird kind of way, that very evolution was what was needed to bring them to the top of their own craft. Maybe part of it is the fact that similar first-wave black metal bands were doing precisely the same thing that was found on their debut album, but the fact is I still wouldn't rate many of them much higher than this, so what's the scoop?

All of this is relevant because, whether I want to admit it or not, Bathory isn't as special as I had thought for so many years, and I say that as someone who absolutely adores this record. In less than a half hour, taking the form of eight tracks, the Swedes have crafted one of the most unsavory, grating sounding albums that anyone had heard at the time, chock full of degraded thrash metal riffing and solos. Vocally, Quorthon matched the energy with an equally rusty surface channeled through a nasally passage that, while in a vacuum isn't exactly pleasant, beside the music feels right. Without casting a darkened atmosphere through mixing and mastering, they instead created a life-crushing feeling through already existing extreme metal in what I imagine is circumstance. They simply didn't have the capital to clean anything up, so the end result was one of the most raw experiences that still captures the exact feeling I want when I pull this disc out; I can't hear it without feeling like I'm in an abandoned toolshed full of rust, metal chips, oil, and sharp objects with no lights to help me avoid these things.

The downside of such a dark and dirty excursion is that standouts are rare, a problem that early death and thrash outings didn't usually have. Many of the solos get pretty buried under the noise of breakneck riffs and blasting drums, adding to why I listen to this for the feeling rather than the chops. That doesn't mean there aren't exceptions to the rule. Indeed, when the tempo calms itself a bit, you can get the mildest gleaning of light at the end of the tunnel. "Necromansy" comes to mind, with its steadier rhythms and competent playing that still captures the hopeless imagery of being trapped in a rusty machine shop in the middle of a goat pen (Black Phillip, is that you?). I also must throw a nod to "Raise The Dead," since I think this is the biggest hint of the full, genre-defining black metal shape that Bathory would take in a few years. Its steadier drum-crushes and longer, drawn-out vocal snarls invoke an evil aura that blows anything else on this record out of the water.

Otherwise, it's a matter of picking your poison. "War" is compelling because of how mean it sounds, but is equally repetitive and unremarkable outside of the vibe that insulates it. "Reaper" seems like lots of fun, and like "Sacrifice," it at least has some clarity in the guitar solos. But taken bit by bit, Bathory isn't really anything more than what their first-wave contemporaries in Venom, Hellhammer, or early Sodom were doing. It just happens to project a rougher realization than their peers, and would soon evolve into what I call the black metal equivalent of Metallica; being in the right place at the right time likely helped so much in that regard. Thankfully, due to its short runtime and general craft that few bands have been able to replicate, I appreciate every corner of it, with all of its flaws and overlooked redundancies.