I didn’t set out to cover two Portland metal bands in successive editions of Spin Cycle, but here we are. The laws of the muses operating as they do, the heavier end of the audio spectrum has been dominating my brain space in the weeks leading up to summertime. Even a weeklong sojourn to Kauai with family, where ukuleles and slippery slide guitar music was the soundtrack du jour, couldn’t deter the encroaching shadow of what is a vibrant and, sadly, overlooked metal community in Portland. So rejoice! You get two fantastic recommendations for regional heavy, and you can show up at Twilight Cafe, Black Water Bar, or the Off Beat and take comfort in at least a little local insight. 

Speaking of the Off Beat, my first experience at the ballyhooed all-ages venue run by Friends of Noise was a punishing one in the form of Southern California hardcore legends Terror, Baltimore’s End It, and NYC’s Pain of Truth, with LA rowdies Start Today and Portland straight edge HXC crew Reflex supporting. By the end of the sold-out show, crowd-surfers were monkey-barring the venue’s 2×4 drop ceiling, and a truly all-ages crowd (plenty of wide-eyed children taking in the chaos up close) were suitably stoked on the magic and menace of community in action. 

With that, it’s time to take it and check out these select releases from near and very far, featuring a triptych of wickedly named albums. 

Armed for Apocalypse

The Earth Is Breathing Beneath Me

For fans of Crowbar, Year of the Coyote, Down

Despite their fair share of lineup changes and overhauls over a nearly 20-year existence, Portland-cum-Chico, California sludge-doom psychos Armed for Apocalypse (A4A) keep coming out on top. On the band’s fourth full-length, The Earth Is Breathing Beneath Me, A4A settles into a dynamic wheelhouse of heavy genre-splintering that, over the album’s 11 tracks, manages to tap into a collective subconscious of unbridled catharsis. That exorcism comes screaming in thick slabs of molasses riffs on album opener “Drown,” where the filth of guitarist Cayle Hunter’s soporific grooves guides a wall of big-time heaviness. Maneuvering through valleys of ominous thud on slow-banger “Ashes of the Night,” vocalist Nate Burman’s ravaged wail is given room to seethe over a nightmarish low-end threatening to shred his bass cabs to pieces. 

As the album progresses, flashes of the band’s pedigree in yesteryear Northern California metal and hardcore bands including Lysistrata, Will Haven, and Oddman bounce in balanced reverie, announced with thunderous aplomb on the destructive four-on-the-floor head-splitter “Spellbound,” where powerhouse drummer Nick Harris does his level best to annihilate every piece of his kit. On this track, the heavy music shapeshifting of A4A is evidenced in microcosm, showcasing perilous tone, copious tempo shifts, and an ending salvo readymade for future bangovers. While later tracks like the ambient sludge soundbath “Bathed in a Tepid Pool of My Own Filth” seem almost to self-identify their prevailing vibe, the surprisingly melodic title-track closer unveils an even deeper nuance and menace to A4A’s arsenal—that of a crew of veteran heavy music masterminds comfortable with pulling all the right strings in service to ensuring both scrambled brains, and a sense of channeled aggression. 

The Earth Is Breathing Beneath Me hit streets April 24 via Church Road Records and can be picked up in vinyl, compact disc, and digital formats via Armed For Apocalypse’s Bandcamp.

Blood Sucking Maniacs

Blood Sucking Maniacs

For fans of Jerry Jeff Walker, MJ Lenderman, Gregory Corso

Terry Allen is a national treasure, but his story is the story of family, friends he treats like family, and representatives from both camps who have doubtless added their own dashes of influence into his multidisciplinary oeuvre. Enter Blood Sucking Maniacs, a multi-generational family band consisting not only of Terry and his wife Jo Harvey, but—among others—their kids and their kids’ kids. Long Texan drawls and alcoves of country slide populate the title track, which announces who and what you’re listening to, with Terry delineating the familial threads keeping the Allens in each others’ artistic orbit. Each member of the Allen clan is given spotlight, whether via song, spoken word poetry, or Jo Harvey’s heart-wrenching a capella rendition of “Peaches and Sap,” a song passed down from her grandmother to her mother that she used to sing to Allen offspring Bukka and Bale. 

Like something of an audible family tree, the album can catch you right in the feels at will. With no precise sonic thread to keep the commemorative magic flowing, it is instead a musical collage of the Allen family’s varying and imaginative muses that propels the emotional weight and experimental bents on songs like the Bale-lead “A Pogo Is a Logo,” where the spoken refrain “Put us in a blender and mix us all up / The color you’ll get is the color of blood” pretty much nails the central thesis of the project. 

Peaking on the gorgeous piano-based Terry-Jo Harvey duet “Down to the River,” the patriarch and matriarch of the band reminisce on their travels together around the world and time spent with each other for over 60 years. Beginning and ending the sprawling love letter of a record with the in utero ultrasound heartbeats of Lucky Marlo, Terry and Jo Harvey’s great-grandson, Blood Sucking Maniacs is a true pantheon of the Allen art brigade, and a stunningly affecting snapshot of a family in all its writhing, riotous glory.

Blood Sucking Maniacs released Blood Sucking Maniacs April 24 on Paradise of Bachelors and can be picked up as a vinyl record, compact disc, and digital download via Terry Allen’s Bandcamp.

Gnaw

Inside a Machine That’s Glistening 

For fans of Hole, Lush, Slowdive

Over the course of their debut EP, Singapore shoegaze-poppers Gnaw author a potent blast of anthemic underground rock. The trio’s diapason rages straight away on EP opener “Gash,” where digital noise adorns a fuzzy progression of driving percussion and grimey guitars, permitting a fertile harshness for vocalist Tara Tan’s fragile melodic real estate. Distinct rivulets of 1990s alt-rock run a propulsive course through Gnaw’s efforts here, borrowing hazy pop holdovers of quiet-loud-quiet schematics into the forefront with vibrant, bendable guitar lines courtesy of Daniel Kim and big, formidable drumming from Zakhran Khan. 
“Star” writhes within a crushing grunge-guitar assault that parts ways for Tan’s crystalline voice, a combination of contrasts in no short supply across the EP. On “Treats,” a supple bass intro guides Tan’s moody lyrics as she pleads “Can I start all over? / No point going further / Baby, I never meant to hurt you,” lulling the verse into a gentle swaying before the false floor gives way and a sugary chorus brings a peppy edge to the gloomy festivities. Here, as on “Gash,” Gnaw—and especially Tan—show they have a knack for explosive pop singalongs while somehow keeping a tight grip on the more ambient fringes of their expansive, warbling guitar underworld. On the EP finale “This Is My Life Now,” every piece of Gnaw’s arresting musical acumen shines through, with a tsunami of feedback, digital beat interludes, and polished pop choruses proving they’re a young band to keep a watchful eye on.

Inside a Machine That’s Glistening was self-released on April 10 and is available as a cassette, compact disc, and digital download on Gnaw’s Bandcamp.