Nerds love metal, nerds love categories; ergo, nerds love categorizing metal. Symphonic death, melo-death, progressive death, doom, black, trad, fantasy, folk and power are a few that I can think of off the top of my head. Also, metal is almost disasterously conservative; the True Believers seem to know what they want to hear from a given genre before listening to a song. Clearly, these rules ought to be punched. Or, maybe, shouldered. By my second favorite constellation.

Shoulder of Orion: Fuck rules.

Shoulder of Orion by Shoulder of Orion

The 15-minute opening track leaps across the heap of subgenres like a hotly pursued ninja across poorly animated ancient houses. If that ninja went from kissing your earlobe to kneeing your groin. Perhaps I’m confusing ninja and geisha again. Regardless, these Brits fucking destroy. And they’ve given away their newest album for free. That’s waffle fries cheap.

Sometimes this band sounds like it would be filling arenas with airy ballads, but then death (growled) vocals come out, the blast beats begins and yes, you do actually hear thunder striking. If you do not have massive speakers, please listen on headphones to get the full effect. I’d liken it to the best kind of rough sex — in a Norwegian thunderstorm.

Jesus Christ. There’s even a cowbell.

