This almost didn’t happen. Oxford’s TTNG (the artists formerly known as This Town Needs Guns) have been through some stresses and strains since their last album and the shifting line-up here shows it. A guitarist and singer are out and former Pennines frontman Henry Tremain is in. Oh, and the whole shebang could have been shut down by the Mayan time reset that the album title represents too. But the band, now a trio with more power than that apocalyptic prediction ever really had, have bounced back big.

Some disagree. The general vibe since ‘13​.​0​.​0​.​0​.​0’ did happen is measured respect, that it’s nice, musically impressive, but no big deal. For me, that’s kinda how TTNG used to be. A little style over substance. But here things seem stripped back, not simpler, definitely not, but easier. There are just as many mathy flourishes and lush melodies as before but the band sound less rushed, less like they’re packing the rhythms in and more like they’re letting these great ideas loose, free. And sometimes they become brilliant, fully fledged songs.

Opener ‘Cat Fantastic’ is packed with vibrant, hypnotic quality, the warm sweetness of ‘I’ll Take the Minute Snake’ will bug the shit out of the guys in Foals for sounding like stuff on their newie, but better, and folks everywhere would be flipping their lid if Radiohead had written ‘Pygmy Polygamy’. And the production is excellent, picking out each plucked note and cymbal hit and complimenting the band’s slightly slower pace perfectly. Tremain too is in top form, sounding like he’s always been here, sounding like he belongs. End of the world be damned then, this seems like just the beginning.

The next Dillinger Escape Plan album will be called ‘One of Us Is the Killer’.

Recorded by Steve Evetts (Dillinger/Every Time I Die), the band’s fifth full-length is due out May 2013 on their own label, Party Smasher Inc.


Get psyched.

‘Bushcraft’ is alive, it breathes, but only the blackest breaths, and it swells and heaves with sick imagery and sicker sounds. Hissing venom, squealing feedback, the barks of mad dogs and the bellows of madder men all echo through the first full-length from Vancouver quartet Baptists, and the violence threatens to bubble over, flood into your lap at any second. Some of that is down to a kick-ass, prickly production job by Converge’s Kurt Ballou (dude does no wrong behind a sound board) but the bulk of the terror is provided by the band.

‘Betterment’, all furious, fuzzy riffs and bullet-time drumming, would be a raging, raucous opener no matter who recorded it, the nasty 90 seconds of ‘Think Tank Breed’ would burn if you could touch it, and while ‘In Droves’ does its best to pound your head in, it drives to make it bang at the same time. Oh sure there’s grimy, d-beat rage and wailing white noise here but boy, do these guys understand the power of the riff. ‘Still Melt’ is a hooked snake fang of a song, set to get under your skin, there are grooves elsewhere that feel positively sexy, and in highlight ‘Soiled Roots’ the band have a real calling card- a dark, menacing, riff-powered muscular monster that combines sparse guitars and hopeless yowls with all-out neighbour-baiting noise. It sounds like they’re shredding their instruments right behind you. More of this please.

Like Converge or fellow countrymen Cursed before them, Baptists are never easy listening. Hell, at times they’re downright confrontational. But like those bands they play with passion, heart and something real and hold your attention wholesale. ‘Bushcraft’ captures this primal and powerful outfit hard at work and only leaves you wanting more.

There’s a reason why this has featured in exactly zero end-of-year top-ten lists.

In the near-decade since Parkway Drive exploded into the metal scene with ‘Killing with a Smile’, the Australian outfit have consistently struggled to replicate the sizzling intensity of that superb debut. Sure, they’ve played better and better live shows at bigger and way bigger venues but on disc, they’ve simply sounded less and less exciting. And ‘Atlas’ doesn’t change anything.

They’re not all of a sudden a bad band, and really this isn’t a terrible record. In fact, when they get their shtick going these guys slay (‘Old Ghost / New Regrets’ is a ripper and ‘Wild Eyes’, with its woah-oh-ohs and big breakdowns, is now classic Parkway), but it is a shtick, no doubt. ‘Sparks’ introduces the album (and the odd, muddy production in spots) aiming for moody but means nothing, the whipcrack beginning of ‘Snake Oil…’ will turn heads but has been heard before, and while the simple fury of ‘Swing’ might work live, its vanilla riffs make it utterly forgettable, with a hundred other bands playing a thousand other similar songs, clamouring for your attention.

Parkway Drive have been accused of a lack of variety before- hell, even ‘Killing with a Smile’ was a heads-down, simple but satisfying beast- but new elements added to combat that don’t help. Clean, female vocals do soothe Winston McCall’s monstrous roar on ‘The River’ but the acoustic parts jar, the spaghetti western edges to ‘Blue And The Grey’ feel tacked-on rather than truly heartfelt, and the less said about the DJ scratch effects here the better.

For die-hard Parkway Drive fans, complaints about ‘Atlas’ will count for nothing. This is everything they need, nothing more, nothing less. Most other folk will feel bored by midway through. And there isn’t even some grand decline to write about, just a gentle, undeniable drip-drip away of the bold, bolshy, brilliant qualities that made this lot stand out in the first place.

Just not top-ten material.

So new years aren’t always for new beginnings. Welsh metallers Shaped By Fate have announced their split today.

Vocalist Paul Fortescue said, “Some things just didn’t go our way as a group. So from us lads in SBF I’d like to say thanks to everyone who gave us a floor to sleep on, a record deal, helped us with merch, bands we’ve toured with, and anyone else who drove our drunken asses around. People we’ve partied with and especially the people who were there the day after to make breakfast! We’ve had a blast and you people made that possible by coming and supporting your scene and your friends!”

They leave behind some two hugely underrated records and hundreds of great live shows. Former band members are already in active in Culver and Hogslayer.

It still ain’t broke. It still doesn’t need fixing. The Acacia Strain’s unstoppable groove machine might sound stuck on repeat for some, but if the band have ever scratched your itch for apocalyptic metal, ‘Death Is The Only Mortal’ should continue to satisfy. This is another soundtrack to the end of days.

Any fear that the Massachusetts outfit might have mellowed with their move to Rise Records is swiftly squashed when the blackened riffs of ‘Doomblade’ threaten to tear your speakers in two. It’s part-Meshuggah, part-rabid dog roar, all awesome, and it sets a pretty reliable mark of what’s to come. Elsewhere, Kirk from Crowbar might bellow like a bear on ‘Go To Sleep’ but frontman Vincent Bennett sets a new record for pure misanthropy on ‘Victims Of The Cave’, and while some cuts may not be as immediately catchy, this record ably improves on 2010’s ‘Wormwood’. Where that was an almost single-speed weapon of destruction, The Acacia Strain push and shove their titanic riffs in different directions here. ‘Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow’ neatly picks up the pace, corrosive but mercilessly clinical, ‘Dust And The Helix’ is a whirling, snarling rager, and ‘Brain Death’ combines a neat solo with, whisper it, melodic tones, to become a real highlight.

Fret not though, the invention doesn’t affect the aggression. And despite the landslide of copycat bands come after them, The Acacia Strain remain uniquely nihilistic, hateful and heavy. ‘Death Is The Only Mortal’ is one of modern metal’s most impressive slabs of violence. Superb.

Single serving metal, this. Expect one potent, effective, but ultimately small, punch and you won’t be disappointed. Originally a side project for members of It Prevails, this Oregon four-piece have gone full-time and full-bore for album number three. There is nothing new in the squealing feedback, chunky riffs, pounding rhythms or feral roars of these 12 tracks, and they take less than 25 minutes to fly by, but there is some smash-and-grab quality. ‘Dark Days’ is a relentless fireball of an opener, frontman Tony Tataje getting his raw-throated point across in less than a minute, a cover of Martyr AD’s ‘The Montreal Screw Job’ is faithfully, violently done, and the supporting cast here is a who’s who of hardcore heroes. The dudes usually screaming bloody murder in It Prevails (natch) and I Declare War are present and correct, Vincent Bennett of The Acacia Strain remains reliably pissed-off on ‘Submissioner’, and man is it good to hear erstwhile Remembering Never and Bishop frontman Pete Kowalsky unleash some new demons on ‘Son of a Machine Gun Pt. III’. Trimmed of fat and bulging with fury, this is modern metalcore in a small, powerful package.

Despite having been around for five years and a handful of releases now, Troubled Coast have never quite got their shit together. They’ve been on the right lines, sure, but no single element of their poetic hardcore was elite. They seemed destined to be one of those perennial support bands, another group left on the edge of things. ‘Awake and Empty’ swiftly pulls them out of the suck. The step up is immediate- opener ‘Brother’ is a dark, dangerous and beautiful beast, and exactly the sort of brilliant, serpentine attack so sorely missing before. Seriously, this one song could see Troubled Coast mentioned in the same breath as Touché Amore and La Dispute and act as a springboard for future success. The rest of the album is pretty special too. ‘Confidence’ is the sort of spring-loaded balls-out bruiser The Used wish they still wrote, and if, musically at least, ‘Northwest ‘ could be Paramore (shit is soooo catchy), ‘1967’ is the sort of songs your parents warned you about- a hulking angry figure in the shadows. If this all sounds terribly now, well, it is, but there’s staying power here too. ‘Awake…’ is packed with muscle and melody bigger than movements and trends and marks the first time Troubled Coast absolutely must be listened to.

This is classy. The sneakily-self-titled ‘Your Love’ is neat, tidy and tightly packed. Oh, it won’t blow any socks off but Tu Amore don’t really put a foot wrong here either. And for the debut material from a band barely a year old, that’s pretty bloody impressive.

The Peterborough quartet make an impact early as well. First track ‘I’m a Mess’ is actually expertly organised post-hardcore, coming on like prime Thrice, deft and memorable. At around six minutes long and at a much more sedate pace, both ‘Bird in a Cage’ and ‘Love With No Limit’ could feel clunky by comparison but the band slow things down in style, frontman Ben Mackareth showing off his range while almost telling stories instead of singing songs. Elsewhere there are more ace, earthy guitar tones, the bluesy, stripped-back sadness of Bright Eyes and the lush layers that come with a steady diet of Muse and Radiohead.

Despite borrowing from plenty of reputable places though, Tu Amore are considered and confident here and sound like they know themselves better than some other bands on their second or third full-length. If they can establish even more of their own identity going forward, the future looks very bright indeed.

Get hyped. Converge release their eigth album, ‘All We Love We Leave Behind’ via Epitaph on Monday October 8th, but it’s online as of right now.