Black Cobra

Many albums strive to be volume-heavy. Some are just that way regardless. The sheer mixture of attack, distortion and personal torment committed to tape ensures nothing but complete redlining insanity. In the case of guitar/vocals/drums duo Black Cobra and their Southern Lord debut, Chronomega, this is an entirely positive experience. Not unlike Cursed's final opus, there's an undeniable sense of overflowing aggression tempered with intellectual prowess throughout the album. Here, it results in a fiery dirge akin to what would happen if that whole upswing of bands that sound like Converge mixed with Mastodon fell even farther down the hole of apocalyptic abandon and smashed their faces on barbs of Buzzov*en's unending sludge in the process. It's far more dynamic, demonic and imposing than High On Fire could ever dream of yet still forthright enough to suck the listener in. Bleak yet bombastic, agonized yet frenetic, Chronomega obliterates.