I see you, dear reader. I understand you. You’ve got everyone from Anubis Gate to Zonaria on your iPod, but nothing to listen to. The obscurest Cappadocian underground thrashers are still too surface for your refined palate. It’s increasingly difficult to find metal’s cutting edge amidst Yngwie knock-offs and GTA soundtrack sell-outs. You’re the goddamn Henri, Le Chat Noir of the metal scene. Yet fear not, hipster kvltist! Sate your jaded ears with these nascent monsters rising from global metal’s molten core.
Golden Hoard: You might have caught the Eugene-Rejkyavik trio’s demo “Eilonwy’s Lament (Blood of the Sea King)” when it spread across Tumblr this past January. Soon to be the iconic face of the precious metal movement, Golden Hoard epitomizes the subgenre’s tendency toward Xanthian puns, use of unexpected instruments (autoharp! kazoo!), and charmingly off-key female vocals. Look for their EP Rings of Power this August.
City Chicken: Straight out of East Cleveland, City Chicken and a few other Rust Belt acts have been tagged “corrugated metal” by area zinesters; with their gruff vocal stylings, blue-collar aesthetic, and resistance to touring Europe, the moniker fits. This journalist rocked out to City Chicken at the Parma UAW last weekend and predicts that “The House Moses Built” might be the hardcore history lesson unwitting radio listeners deserve.
So-called ferrous metallers also have roots in Detroit, Pittsburgh, and Cleveland, but take a markedly different musical tack from their corrugated cousins. Erring on the side of experimental math rock, groups like The Bells of St Theodosius and grannywoman traffic in Hart Crane screamed-word pieces, drum machines, and steeltoe-gazing introspection.
Scenes of the Pastoral: Never heard of brown metal? Think black metal, but sung by a tripped-out Radagast, and sometimes considered a regional variation of folk metal–the few brown metal groups to date spring from former Soviet states. Bucolic in a rural-malaise sort of way, environmentalist in the mode of Poison Ivy, Latvian screamers Scenes of the Pastoral tore shit up at Nummirock last summer, where singer-violinist Ivars Dubra was arrested for inciting the audience to destroy festival property. Their second album, The Malthusian Candidate, arrives October 2013.
La Petite Mort: Sometimes compared to fellow female-fronted groups such as The Agonist and Pythia, this Moroccan act stands apart by dint of its narrow lyrical focus: Continental philosophy. Both of La Petite Mort’s records (Women in Dark Times, Tabu) are concept albums centered on deconstructing significant philosophical ideas or figures. As yet singular in the scene, most listeners class La Petite Mort as melodic thrash metal; this journalist prefers the nom-de-grrr “litpunk.”
Loins of Steel: Ahhh yes, you think you know cock rock – Ratt, Warrant, and the like, not to mention the sleaze metal kids in Sweden and Steel Panther acolytes. Loins of Steel, however, aren’t being metaphorical, nor does there seem to be even a wink of irony in their presentation: dick-shaped instruments, belt buckles, guitar picks, tattoos, and good luck finding merch without a dong on it. If you’re still reading, you might be into their debut album, Logical Phallacy, which comes complete with a gift card for The Pleasure Chest.
Die In My Arms: Four words, goatfuckers: Justin Bieber cover band. Three more: a la Necrophagist. It’s as magical as you think. Cover bands abound—even Dave Grohl, rock’s cool dad, joked about forming a Christina Aguilera cover band of metallers and calling it “Aguilerica”–yet the world-weariest of scene journalists didn’t expect Die In My Arms. A trio of mild-mannered Ottawa ladies behind the scenes (singer-bassist Aimée Grenville is a middle-school teacher) onstage Die In My Arms turn “One Less Lonely Girl” into a bloody promise.
Bogwater: Like a trilobite or massive ground sloth skeleton, Bogwater were dug up by a scientist, ethnomusicologist Jan Horton, who was researching blues transformation in Louisiana and north Florida but discovered something else entirely: a whole subset of swamp rockers who’ve been bubbling away like a meth cookery for the last thirty-odd years. Fusing Sunset Strip hard rock, Dirty South rap, and alligator-wrassling sideshows, these bands are sly, guarded, and you might have to go to a Piggly Wiggly to see them in the flesh. If you happen to be in the area, stake out the nearest minimart in hopes of hearing the subterranean bass and gunfire delivery of Bogwater’s “Wetlands Symphony No. 4.”
Speeding Bullet: If you frequent comic conventions you’re probably familiar with the likes of Kirby Krackle, MC Frontalot, and other nerdcore luminaries, but the splinter cell of halftone is more insular, more specific, and more ear-rending. Aptly named for their technical precision and DragonForce-style guitar work (and, one assumes, for Superman), British longhairs Speeding Bullet front a wave of comic-book-themed metal that’s begun popping up at smaller cons across Canada and Europe. Don’t look for them at nerd bastions like SDCC just yet; instead, grab “Hellblazer (The Golden Child)” or “Horrors of Cleave” free on their Tumblr.
Concealed Carry: More a commune than a band, since no one’s quite sure how many people comprise Concealed Carry, and the group owns property in Hartland Township, Minnesota, where they record country-fried metal tunes, hunt, fight, and do other things Ted Nugent would approve of. Oh, you missed the part where Concealed Carry are Nuge disciples? Indeed, they made their debut at an NRA rally in Duluth with the Motor City Madman’s official stamp of approval. He even made an appearance on their hit–in certain circles–single, “Cattywampus (Wild Eyes).”
