Record #866: Nadja – Luminous Rot (2021)

I’ve been fostering a love of heavy, weird music for a while now—you can probably blame Sunbather for kicking me down that hill. But in the last year or so that I’ve been writing for Tuned Up, I’ve mucked about through darker, grimier swamps than I had ever expected, and enjoyed it far more than I would have ever thought.

One of the murkier records that I’ve fallen in love with in that time is Luminous Rot from the long-running drone/doomgaze duo Nadja. From first blush, it can feel oppressive and impenetrable, but there’s a tension between the thick, sludgy instrumentation and the almost tender songwriting that makes for an engaging listen.

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Record #865: Cynic – Ascension Codes (2021)

Yesterday, I talked about how much weight the Opportunity to buy something factors into my decision to buy it. That fact is much more true for this record, which I found a few feet away for the low price of $15 due to some minor damage (I haven’t been able to figure out what they were talking about).

I mostly knew Cynic by reputation: the project gained notoriety as a pseudo side project of massively important metal band Death, released Focus, which basically wrote the blueprint for what we now think of as progressive metal, and broke up almost immediately. They reunited in 2006, releasing a couple records to mixed reviews.

Ascension Codes, the first Cynic record without founding drummer Sean Reinert and longtime bassist Sean Malone, is similarly mixed, with many people dismissing it as a Paul Masvideal vanity project while others consider it an impressive effort that lets itself meander a bit too far into prog noodling. But as far as I can tell, that’s been Cynic’s whole deal since day one.

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Record #864: Fen – The Malediction Fields (2009)

Of all the variables in the careful calculus I use to decide what records to buy, Opportunity is perhaps the one with the most gravity. True, I often hunt with laser-focused intentions. But other times, a record will simply present itself to me in an opportunity that I cannot resist.

For instance: I had heard London blackgazers Fen before purchasing this record—how could I not? They pop up in the “Fans also like” section of just about all of my favorite metal bands. If I’m honest though, none of my preemptive listens compelled me to track down any copies.

But then, while foraging through the shelves of Amoeba Records in San Francisco, I found a copy of their debut full-length for an agreeable price. And I couldn’t have been more thrilled. Listening to the album in one earbud as I continued to browse, I was taken by the sweeping post black metal epics which affirmed my decision to buy over and over again.

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Record #862: Mineral – The Power of Failing (1997)

I will be the first to admit that sometimes, my opinions about certain bands or albums have absolutely no rational sense behind them. Take for instance The Power of Failing. I have been a huge Mineral fan ever since I bought a CD copy of EndSerenading at my local record shop in high school, even following Chris Simpson on to his wonderful project The Gloria Record.

So what line of thinking led me to not care at all about The Power of Failing until I was well into my thirties?

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Record #861: Heriot – Profound Morality (2022)

In feudal England, a heriot was a tribute paid to the lord of the land when a serf passed away. It was an undeniably oppressive practice, robbing poor families now bereft for the benefit of the already wealthy tyrant of the land. The heavy outfit Heriot from the UK practices a similar form of oppression, but in the form of their sonics.

One of my go-to phrases in describing music is “oppressively heavy.” But when I first heard Heriot, I realized that I have not known what it means to be so heavy that it’s oppressive. This is the kind of sonic density that squeezes your skull, that crushes your bones. It’s the sort of heaviness that dominates your attention and ceases the existence of all else.

Profound Morality, their debut, is only eighteen minutes long, but it leaves an impact crater far larger than its physical size, thanks to its unrelenting mixture of metalcore, industrial, post metal, old school hardcore, and even some glimmers of nu-metal.

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Record #860: Elder – Dead Roots Stirring (2011)

Ever since I heard Reflections of a Floating World, I have nurtured a low-key obsession with the Bostonian/German group’s brand of progressive, psychedelic doom metal. After following them to Omens, I’ve started working backward, picking up their back catalog as I can.

Dead Roots Stirring, their sophomore record, might not have anyone hoisting it up as the group’s best album, but this might contain their purest devotion to bands like Black Sabbath, Kyuss, and Sleep without the Rush worship that their later work has been criticized for.

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Record #859: Blood Incantation – Starspawn (2016)

As I’ve stated before—about this same band—I’m not the biggest fan of technical death metal. But for whatever reason, Blood Incantation somehow manages to bypass my displeasure for the genre’s indulgences. However, my appreciation of the Denver quartet has been satisfied by 2019’s Hidden Histories of the Human Race, the group’s apparent opus, so I haven’t done much exploration of their other material.

That apparently wasn’t enough for my subconscious: whatever nighttime phenomenon caused me to buy Hidden Histories in my sleep struck again, and I was greeted a few days later to a tracking number for a copy of Starspawn that I didn’t remember ordering.

While I expected it to utterly pale in comparison of its successor, Starspawn is a worthwhile work in its own right. Had I heard this instead of Hidden Histories, there’s a good chance that my feelings toward Blood Incantation would be the same.

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Record #858: Cave In – Heavy Pendulum (2022)

Cave In have often been described as chameleons. However, those tree-dwelling lizards can really only change their color, which is a poor analog for the Boston quartet’s sonic shapeshifting abilities. They’re more like some sort of Lovecraftian cephalopod, changing its color, shape, and size at will. From the brutal metalcore of their early records to the soaring space rock of Antenna, Cave In has thrived on reinventing themselves.

But on Heavy Pendulum, they somehow manage to fit every facet of their career into a single—albeit massive—record. They follow all of their seemingly contradictory instincts to their breaking points, creating what might be the most Cave In-y Cave In record of all time.

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