Krallice

A lot of modern American black metal seems best compared to a storm, specifically the wind-whipping elements of a sylvan thunderstorm. Guitars and vocals typically attack in gusts, tearing through the air, ripping at anything in their way. The bass tones hit from far away, a touch buried, the rumblings of thunder that barely punch through the gale. But the metaphor doesn't really work for Krallice: These guys are certainly stormy, tenacious and booming, just in a way that blows many outfits out of the woods completely.

Coming together in New York in 2007, Krallice's players have a wide swath of metal experience that stretches from the tech-metal approach of Dysrhythmia to the avant-guard instrumentals of Orthrelm. And while their approach has much in common with their blackened American peers, Krallice's sound is more like a tempest than a land-bound assault, its swells of rage punishing in the way huge waves would a ship in rough seas. With Krallice, the guitars and bass merge into powerful swirling blasts. Lower tones move with smooth, terrifying quickness, shifting with a slipstream of fluidity that's hard not to get caught up in. The guitars play over the top in tight riffs that move through notes quickly, curling up in waves with caustic distortion.

Krallice reaches a new peak on the forthcoming LP Diotima. The album moves in huge, 12-minute rushes, tones churning and changing with skilled nuance. It's an arresting, agitated expanse. Caught in the middle of Diotima, the chaos is ever-changing, but the pure size of it all gives it the feel of an endless force, throwing wave after wave of upheaval at your ears. —Jordan Lawrence