Annus in Morte – The Year in Death Metal 2024

Brutal death metal and its primitive subset of slam, in particular, always had the issue that the high-brow and the low-brow don't often mix too well. Slam frankly has a lot of gimmick bands and few bands are willing to navigate the most absurd tropes the genre has to offer without shoving a cavalcade of random samples into their album or attaching a random gimmick to it. Wretched Inferno are an exception to the rule. The band is comprised of a bunch of kids that have themselves played in a bunch of horrendous gimmick slam bands, but when they decide to bring the goods, they never quite lost their sense of musical humor and ironic genre detachment. Matriphagy, which comprise the other half of the split (and mostly the same kids), don't do it quite as well but still manage to be silly without ever compromising on bringing the goods. I for one welcome this new wave of zoomer slam and you should too!

As an artist and a reviewer, I tend to gravitate to things that are either very base level (brutal or old school death metal) or very advanced (tech, prog, and avant-garde offerings). What I most struggle with are middle-brow releases, which commit to neither the brain nor the brawn and therefore do not offer the listener anything that they could not find in any other band. Bands that manage the tightrope walk between high and low-brow are fascinating to me for that very reason, and Theurgy are such an act. Theurgy love harmonics, fast scale runs, and extended harmonies, and they flavor their progressive slam with cosmic lyrics to really drive home how abstract they are. Yet, they also slam like cavemen and utilize gurgles from the very depth of the toilet bowl. If you too crave some well-educated caveman shit, check this one out.

Nile as a band have been around for so long, it is no surprise that they would at some point run out of material. Recent albums had shown the band operating at a high level but also that they did not quite know what new sounds to explore within their niche. After two rather underwhelming releases, 2019's Vile Nilotic Rites had seen Nile pick up the pace again, with some fresh blood supporting the writing. The Underworld Awaits Us All is the logical next step to that development, seeing Nile do things in ways that somehow feel new and fresh yet sounding quintessentially like Nile. How the band does this would require some additional analysis, but what you need to know is: this is good and worth your time even in a year when death metal is firing out of all cylinders.

Autopsy worship often has the issue that the style has not a lot of range, so the quality of the release will often depend on how authentically grimy and off-putting a band can sound. Funereality's Through the Black Holes of the Dead is authentically grimy, exploitative, and smutty, with a strangely and squeamishly sexual cover that mirrors its kinks in the album's lyrical content. Metal nowadays often does not aim to offend anymore, or only doing so in a niche that is, ultimately, socially accepted within the scene. True transgression is no easy feat and if you can see yourself jamming something that is the aural equivalent of a Troma movie — and that has some killer riffs, too — then you should not skip Funereality.

I didn’t connect with much death metal this year and perhaps unsurprisingly, Molten’s Malicide doesn’t always sound like a death metal album either. The base of Molten’s sound is a scientific experiment to find the exact moment that thrash metal became death metal and then they add some classic heavy metal melodies just to liven things up. The result is that Malicide is lean, mean, and weird in the most attention grabbing way, much like my cat when I’m trying to eat. Molten haven’t quite mastered the meld here yet as the build up to their more weird moments rarely gives it the full emotional weight it needs — see the nine minute epic “Empires of Divinity” for an example of that — but the individual parts succeed well enough to overlook that. Riff heavy and bass forward, Malicide is just a damn good time for all the family.

Listening to Tzompantli's Beating the Drums of Ancestral Force feels like stepping into a ritual that is both ancient and thunderously alive. The sheer weight of the sound hits me first - towering riffs that crawl and crush, paired with vocals so guttural they seem to emerge from the earth itself. But it's the drums that steal the spotlight. Every percussive beat feels deliberate, primal and alive, with tribal rhythms pulsing like a battle cry from deep in the jungle. The album doesn’t just play music—it builds a world. The tribal chants and atmospheric touches immerse me in a ceremonial space that balances reverence with raw, untamed violence. Tracks ebb and flow between moments of suffocating doom and bursts of blistering aggression, yet never lose their cohesion. The jungle-like atmosphere isn't just a backdrop; it's the soul of the record, amplified by the dynamic interplay of toms and vocals. Each song is a relentless invocation, a call to connect with something ancient and visceral. Tzompantli achieves a rare feat: creating a sound that is as crushing as it is celebratory. This album isn't just something I hear; it's something I feel. It's a ritual I return to again and again.

Swedish death metal maniacs Repuked have unleashed Club Squirting Blood, an album that embraces chaos, energy, and an unhinged approach to their craft. With its roots firmly planted in the murky soil of old-school death metal, this record delivers the best kind of Autopsy worship, balancing raw aggression with surprising nuance. The album thrives on its dynamic songwriting, weaving clever transitions between doom-laden, crawling sections and ferocious bursts of breakneck speed. This interplay keeps the listener constantly on edge, as though bracing for the next sonic assault. Yet, amidst the carnage, there’s an undeniable sense of structure and balance — every shift feels deliberate, every riff sharp and purposeful. While the raw energy and grotesque themes might initially overwhelm, repeat listens reveal a depth and mastery that few bands achieve in this genre. Repuked prove they’re not just about extremity; they’re about delivering it with flair. Club Squirting Blood is a visceral yet refined experience, dripping with bile and brilliance.

There’s been a lot of high-brow death metal this year. Hell, we here at The Goat Review have covered a fair share of it — Blood Incantation, Defeated Sanity, and Ingurgitating Oblivion most notably. Molder, conversely, is not high-brow at all. But Molder doesn’t need to be experimental or proggy, because what they specialize in is chunky, groove-laden death metal. Sophomore LP Catastrophic Reconfiguration comes two years after their debut, and improves on it mostly in terms of memorability and how infectious some of these songs are. “Pulped”, for example, is a bonafide barn-burner, and the intensity on Catastrophic Reconfiguration never really lets up across its trim runtime. If you want your death metal to be of the no-frills kind, look no further than Molder. Meat and potatoes haven’t tasted this fun in quite some time.

Those of us who love death metal at The Goat Review love the sideways riffage and creaking burpage of Demilich. Scumbag channels that same pinched and creaking guitar energy—with assistance from an assortment of pedals that double and pitch-shift ominous harmonic layers—with the kind of subtlety that only New York death metal can offer. A Suffocation thuggishness persists in the bouncing charm of "Beaten to a Pulp" and "The Meating". A crooked-God Immolation-esque dissonance pummels through the clanging call of "Unmanaged Mental Illness" and "Perverted Benevolence". But most important Scumbag finds in the ragged and rowdy old school an unpredictability in playful hip-hop rhythm switches, scattershot shrieks and howls, and tripping melodic breakaways that connect the absolute onslaught of riffs that Homicide Cult harbors. Step in the pit, leave broken and smiling.