The Glowing Man is a rewarding experience, if not always a pleasant one. It’s healthy for ears to be bombarded with music like this every now and then.
It’s an intensely focused musical space, guided by a vocal delivery that seems simultaneously lethargic and passionate. Post-punk is rarely more unsettling.
Furious metal rackets trade blows with soft, elegant jazz fusion and string arrangements, and the whole exchange is gorgeous and horrible at the same time.
Metallica roll back the years with a tight, rollicking ride, wiping the smug looks off our faces in the process.
Reviews make a lot more sense when they can be put into context. After passing 150 albums reviewed we thought it was high time to look at the statistics.
A blend of teenage angst and a primordial, animalistic sense of something lurking beneath a thin surface, a beastly shape clawing at the other side.