Category: Editorial

  • Of Course It’s Formulaic. That’s the whole point.

    Of Course It’s Formulaic. That’s the whole point.

    I really don’t understand people who complain about bands being “formulaic”. Of course they are. That’s the whole point in listening to Death and Black Metal these days. It’s always been.

    Think about the gym. You start lifting weights, you throw punches at a sandbag, you are not looking for a different experience every single time you go there to unleash your rage. You want the same movement, the same resistance, the same impact. You want something familiar that does its job. Being familiar with something that is supposed to release your energy is part of what this whole thing is about.

    And when I say “the whole thing,” I mean every reflection of extreme metal that actually matters. Black metal, when it works, operates in mystical and esoteric terms: atmosphere, symbols, that sense of stepping into a ritual space where the same old elements are there for a reason. You’re “in the zone”, as you pump blood and breathe in and out. Death metal and Grindcore tend to operate on a similarly destructive pattern in their physical display of rage, the “body” music side of it, the part that pummels and churns. There are nearby genres that share blood with these, and plenty of little mutations and local dialects. But the core is the same. Different alphabet, similar goals.

    People talk about “evolving” as if it’s some sort of moral duty. As if the genre owes anyone novelty. As if repetition is a defect rather than the mechanism.

    Not really my point of view on this. Must be I live this music in a visceral way. Even if I wear glasses now, it doesn’t mean I am some sort of old school critic. This is, in my opinion, a genre built on recognizable shapes because those shapes are the point itself. They’re the conduit, the trigger that lets you switch the brain off and turn the engine on. That’s why any of us can listen to ten records that share a skeleton and still feel something real. The skeleton IS the tool.

    The Grammar Holds: Mannerism, Metal, and the Myth of Novelty

    I say it. Mannerism is king. And I mean that in the full art-historical sense. Mannerism is what happens when a tradition has fully matured: the grammar is so well established that the interesting work shifts from what to how. You’re not inventing the form anymore, we have plenty of bands that crashed against this wall in the mid ’90s.

    You’re inflecting it. Every gesture becomes about refinement, exaggeration, stylization within a known framework. Pontormo and Rosso Fiorentino weren’t rejecting the Renaissance. They were fluent enough in it to twist it, and the twist was only legible because the foundation was shared. That’s precisely the space extreme metal occupies now, and has occupied for decades. The riff vocabulary, the production aesthetics, the structural logic all of it is codified enough that the real artistry is in the execution: the weight, the angle, the small choices that separate a record that genuinely hits from one that merely goes through the motions.

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    It also reframes what originality even means in this context. In a Mannerist framework, originality is mastery expressed as personal signature. Which is actually a far more demanding standard than novelty, because you can’t hide behind the shock of the new: the execution becomes everything. And this is where modern music journalism often loses the plot.

    A lot of it, especially the safe kind, the shitty big portals, big glossy publications, condescending toward music in a very specific way. It wants to grab everyone’s attention at once, so it overpraises anything that can be sold as “experimentation,” as if experimentation itself were a virtue that automatically upgrades the art. But the deeper problem isn’t that they just value novelty. Or at least what their search engines perceive as such.

    They don’t have the vocabulary to evaluate craft within a tradition.

    A critic who genuinely knew the genre could tell you why one so call formulaic or “mannerist” death metal record hits harder than another doing the exact same things, small variations of perception one just cannot come up with if they don’t get it. They default to novelty as a proxy for quality because it’s the only axis they actually understand. That, and checking lyrics and symbolism for trigger warning some current sensibility.

    The journalistic bias toward experimentation is, at its core, a bias against Mannerism, against the idea that working within and refining a tradition can be just as serious, just as artistically meaningful, as breaking from it. Which is a historically illiterate position, but here we are.

    In extreme metal (and more or less related), band does experiment but still works, it’s almost always because they haven’t actually abandoned the skeleton, they’ve just dressed it differently. The moment a band genuinely steps outside the grammar, the reaction is usually not excitement but disorientation, and not the good kind. The ritual has been interrupted rather than varied. One can certainly write a new language. Art is meant to upset and disturb in any way conventional or not. But one in a million makes it.

    Might be worth mentioning that for some reason, cool journalists also often indulge a glaring double standard worth naming. “Formulaic” gets weaponized against extreme metal by people who’d never apply the same word to the blues, where repetition and formula are essentially sacred. The twelve bar structure, the bends, the call-and-response are treated as tradition worthy of reverence. The bias reveals itself pretty cleanly there.

    The genre lives on repetition, energy, destruction, discipline, horror. The same outlet, because that outlet is what people came here for in the first place.

    When someone says a band is formulaic, that “they all sound the same”, my first reaction is still the same: of course it is. That’s why it works.

  • Waiting for another Night of unjustified bloodshed

    Waiting for another Night of unjustified bloodshed

    Tune in next week for the second installment of Mass Extermination Fest, this time featuring Supremative from Spain. “Spain” might be a bit too generic, since the band comes from the Canary Islands, where my well-off friends go to burn their bloody, utterly undeserved cash on the lifestyle they lead. But fine: in the end we like slaughter, and I doubt the band lives off rents from apartments leased to suckers.

    Back to business: I’m guessing you want an opinion on the headliner, if you’re shortsighted enough to read this site and too lazy to do your own digging on Encyclopedia Metallum. I’ll tell you more: I think I’ll do a quick run-through of all the festival bands between now and next Saturday, so keep an eye on the new blog.

    That three-color cover, which by now is basically the staple flag of that so-called bestial death subgenre cooked up at the start of the new millennium, already says almost everything worth knowing. Alessandro, the very young organizer of the fest, is a strong supporter of this stuff, and honestly it seems healthier than getting smashed into the ground on gin tonics in the Modena nightlife. We’re talking about that rotten strain of phlegmy, aspirated vocals that wheeze blasphemies over hammering, spiraling, hypnotic music. Some local names I won’t mention because it’s too obvious still pop into my head, like the famous Pink Elephant. I like this crap, obviously, as you already know. The album review is right below.

    Barbarian is rawer than raw, abrasive metal from what I remember. I’ve seen him live a few times, and I’ve known these guys for longer than I’d like to admit. I remember their direction is more towards the primal energy of the first years of the genre than trying to go down the sink of systematic annihilation, but that is not a bad start.

    Same goes for the awesome personal favorite that is Uraniavore Goatphago: more minimalistic than minimalist, completely undiluted cosmic chaos, basically a demi-glace reduction of Revenge concentrated right to the edge of recognizability.

    Last, you might want to check out Dead Aeon Mist. He plays a genre that’s extremely hard to do properly without plunging into that easy, mass-market Swedish death metal sound. I heard some tracks in advance months ago, but I’m saving the final listen for the live show. I want a surprise.

    But more than anything, next weekend I want to unplug from routine crap, so I’ll be drinking ethanol in various forms at the biker club where the show will be held. Come over and let’s talk gore, massacre, and demonic nihilism.

    Mass Extermination Fest II

    28 February, 2026, here more about the event https://fb.me/e/5sASw1B5c

  • New start

    New start

    Things are going to feel and look awkward for some days. No worries dear putrefied readers, as I am just too lazy to work on the new layout in a safe environment. The stats are not impressive lately, and I am the one to blame, of course. But things will become clear on the go, as I will explain more of what I have in mind, starting with a complete new concept of how to handle this space.

    This is going to stay the ultimate stop for the record label too so balancing content will be tricky. Alwas been, after all, but that’s the way we like it, isn’t it?