I'm from Arizona, so I'm not jumping at the chance to describe Black Hell as "crawling out of the sandblasted wastes" or any such thing; it's not as exotic for me. But they do in fact come from my beautiful and notoriously dry home state, hitting hard with their debut Deformers of the Universe on the always-reliable label Hater of God.
Black Hell features ex-members of Arizona native sons like the vicious Carol Ann and Unruh, one of the best hardcore bands of the 1990's and one that a lot of kids have probably never heard (Unruh mouthpiece Mike Edwards even co-writes the lyrics on one song). That said, Black Hell's sound is pretty far from the gasoline-soaked, slash-and-burn blasts of their ancestors. The Hell is actually a bit closer to Wellington, specializing in creeping Sabbathian dirge and pummeling doom not unlike High On Fire circa The Art of Self Defense, which is their best record anyway.
Black Hell's sound is fairly unique despite not being terribly novel. You've heard the heavy metal thunder before, but it's tempered here with a healthy dose of hardcore and personality - especially in the vocals, which are howling, reverbed, and epic. They're really good, and they're a far cry from the traditional gurgles and birdman screech that often come with the terrain. The grain of Deformers of the Universe is gritty but pure. It sounds musty and ancient, but simultaneously bright and piercing as the sunshine in Phoenix. There's plenty of memorable guitar chunks and even some wailing solos; "Black Heart Destroyer" segues into a cleansing melodic wash around four minutes in that's just killer. The lyrics veer between the surprisingly good and the eloquent but familiar (metaphors include wolves, worms, and swords).
The packaging rules, as is to be expected with a new Hater of God release. Artist Mike Sutfin contributes an appropriately wicked cover piece, with serene angels, moist eyeballs, blood spatter, and a grinning Lucifer. The insert, done by bassist Mike Bjella, is impressive too, featuring an eye-catching skull pattern that looks like ghostly fractals.
Deformers of the Universe is definitely the kind of record that grows on you with each listen, as new dimensions of its dark and arcane six-string world rise to the surface. It also doesn't overstay its welcome, clocking in at less than fifty minutes, unlike a lot of records in this style. It's a promising debut and a solid slab of doom and gloom.
