by Kurt Orzeck
A trip down the River Styx always seemed kinda nice. It only costs one small silver coin, according to Greek mythology. There’s no paddling involved, as Underworld ferryman Charon captains his skiff. And chances are you’d see some major historical figures, like Hitler and Roy Cohn, along the way. But if Blood Monolith’s The Calling of Fire is the soundtrack to Hades, don’t hold out hope for a gentle ride giving you time to prepare for an eternity in Hell.
It didn’t take long for buzz to build in the underground over Blood Monolith when the death-metal/grindcore gang coalesced in 2023. Supergroups often face unreasonably high expectations upon forming. But given the pedigree of initial members vocalist/guitarist Shelby Lermo (Nails, Ulthar) and guitarist Tommy Wall (Undeath, Execution Hour), the anticipatory frenzy over what they would create together began instantly. Masochistic aficionados of unforgiving, brutal metal rose even higher when one-named bassist Nolan and Deliriant Nerve’s Aidan Tydings-Lynch joined the fold last year.
The high hopes for Blood Monolith’s low-tuned lunacy are easily met—nay, surpassed—from start (“Trepanation Worm”) to finish (“Pyroklesis”) on the Profound Lore band’s brain-scrambling debut LP. “Trepanation Worm” starts with Lermo spewing one of those fierce, metal yells that sounds like he’s vomiting, as his tongue tries to escape from his mouth. (He resorts to that ugly sound many more times over the course of The Calling of Fire.) Lermo’s howl is so guttural, you’d swear the band recorded his vocal tracks from the depths of a cave.
From there on out, Blood Monolith never pass up a chance to punish listeners on their 28-minute monstrosity. Key tracks on the thoroughly offensive album include four minutes of rapid-fire ruination (and a sick guitar solo) on “The Owl in Daylight,” the acrobatically agile “Apparatus,” and the Cannibal Corpse-esque penultimate track “Slaughter Garden.”
Even if you decide to sip just one Blood Monolith song to see if it’s your cup of tea, brace yourself—preferably with handcuffs or by chaining yourself against a wall. The Calling of Fire is a nasty, nauseatingly nihilistic record (a point driven home by a spoken-word sample of Werner Herzog). Perhaps scariest of all, the band is only getting warmed up.