Mining Metal is a monthly column from Heavy Consequence contributing writers Langdon Hickman and Colin Dempsey. The focus is on noteworthy new music emerging from the non-mainstream metal scene, highlighting releases from small and independent labels — or even releases from unsigned acts.
First, congratulations are in order: Wormrot, a band on a label just a hair too big for us to cover here on this most underground of venues, managed to rocket up the Billboard rock charts of all places with their most recent (and exceptionally brilliant year-end worthy) record Hiss. Given the often dire state of metal that charts well, seeing some tried-and-true heshers with a violent and virulent weird streak to them perform so well should be a boon to all of our spirits. This is not, of course, to cast a baleful glare to the bigger bands that manage to be successful; after all, we frequently say here that it’s precisely the size and breadth of heavy music, that it contains more sub-genre spaces than any one listener can hope to enjoy, that indicates how full of life it is, being bigger than any one member. But, that said, we do tend to find the heavy records that perform well in those spaces take on a certain shape, and so seeing a new shape enjoined in that space is worth a smile from all of us.
I’ll spare you all the bully pulpit this month. Being mindful citizens of the world and members of our communities is an important and perpetual task, one we are not released from until we are dead (oh Plato, were that you were wrong about only the dead knowing peace from the war!), but so to is it important to catch our breath and fill our lungs with life every now and again. I’ve become, sadly, quite art-negative over the years of studying, making and writing about art; as much as I love the stuff, as much as it fills me with a constant sense of life and vision, it feels ever-as-always incapable of eliciting serious change in the world. Vonnegut once said that an entire generation of artists turned all their fire and fury toward the inane nihilistic imperial violence of the Vietnam war, only for it to do nothing at all, the war being undone as a politically savvy move by Nixon of all people rather than any of the radicals that protested and sacrificed so much to rebel against it. Ah well. The value of art in that grander sense may wind up being only personal, only psychological, but our persons and psyches matter. They are, after all, the only veil we have through which to peer into the world outside. Taking care of that matters, so long as we aren’t solipsistic about it.
And thankfully, this month delivered the goods when it came to underground heavy music. Joe, our dearly departed former writer (he’s not dead, I promise!) was typically the one of us into more straight-ahead fare while I was into unfurling the tether and slink-slunking off toward the edge of oblivion, but with Conor in tow we both now linger around those primordial edges. We’ve brought back from that pit a number of explosive and year-end caliber experimental and progressive records, most of them decidedly on the extreme end of things. If art only effects us and not the world, why not let it make us much, much weirder? Oh, and, as a bonus for those of who actually read these intros instead of skipping past, here’s an extra record to check out, a killer hybrid of Morbid Angel, Gorguts and Ulcerate from a group called Heaving Earth. I meant to include them last time but that installment was already stuffed to the gills. But shhh, this is our little secret okay? Thanks for reading and, as always, keep it heavy and keep it weird.
— Langdon Hickman