Fail is the work of Dan Fox, the man behind Inner Demons Records. He records under several names, most notably Fail, Loss, This Is What I Hear When You Talk, and others. This time around, we have the evocatively titled release " When you’re a nail, everything starts to look like a hammer," so let's give this a listen and see what Fox is going to hit us with this time around.

We kick things off with "Self-nemesis," which falls solidly under what James Keeler of Wilt refers to as "dark noise." This is noisy, but with a heavy amount of atmosphere. The closest comparison I can come up with is a noisier version of Inade. This is the sound of Armageddon; not the end, but the middle of the conflict. This is heavy and beautiful. Incredibly well done. "I'm hoping that in the future my world view will be far less accurate" closes it out with a long track at almost 19 minutes that gives Fox the ability to really delve into the soundscape. If the previous track was Armageddon, this is the smoldering aftermath. Planes overhead still survey the damage to see who will claim sovereignty over the ruined blackened soil below. Fires burn and autonomous machines still roam through the rubble, despite there being no one left to control them. There is a lot going on in this track as it continually shifts course, and it gets a bit noisier as it progresses, but it is all pretty bleak. That is to say that I enjoyed it immensely, although I share Fox's titular sentiments.

If you have heard some of the harsher Fail releases, this may not be what you were expecting, but like a gracious host, Fox always gives us exactly what we need. You could almost think of this as a mix between Loss and Fail, not really in approach, but in the kind of emotions evoked, This is very well done and well worth picking up. This album weighs in at around 25 minutes.

I have no idea who Sisters of Death are, and their Bandcamp bio simply states, "You have been judged." When I did a google search, I got a 1976 film by the title of Sisters of Death with the tagline "Don't bother to scream. there's nobody to hear you...except your killer." So with little to go on, let's dive in and see what the judgment will be this time.

I suppose that the fact that I got a film in the search results is fitting, as the music here is cinematic and would be right at home in such a thriller. We open up with "Death," which is a chaotic piece with piano, pounding percussion, and droning bass atmospheres. There are weird synth noises that add to the unsettling feel. This is very well constructed and manages to use the piano and crashing cymbals and rumbling drums to give the entire thing an ominous feel. This is a jump scare that lasts 13 minutes, and I mean that in a good way. On "Fire," the elements are the same (piano, cymbals, droning atmosphere), but the feel is completely different. A piano note that intones periodically like a church bell, and crashing cymbals that punctuate the suffocating drone give this track a kind of heaviness that goes beyond the many layers of drone. If the first track was the fright, this is the moment right after, where you think that you are safe, but you are not quite sure. "Fear" keeps this same feeling going, but noisier. We add some xylophone and clarinet into the mix for a slightly whimsical feel that seems jarring when combined with the sounds of scrap metal being shoved around a dark alley, sparse piano, and sudden bursts of percussion. This is like the soundtrack to a Looney Tunes cartoon where Bugs Bunny has developed an insatiable hunger for flesh.... and he just acquired Elmer Fudd's shotgun somehow.... "Mortis" adds a pulsing bass drone that runs through the track like a malevolent heartbeat. This is a bit more sparse, with piano and drums making up the majority of the incidental sounds.

Overall, this is pretty good cinematic dark ambient. There is a lot going on in these tracks to keep them interesting. They are similar in feel, but manage to remain distinct with their own personalities. You can tell that they belong together, but they are not really the same. If you like it a little bit noisy and a lot bit oppressively dark, this is well worth checking out. This album weighs in at around 53 minutes.

I'm pretty sure that Substak is trying his hardest to get more albums on Inner Demons than Dan Fox himself at this point. If you are not familiar with this artist, Substak hails from Athens and has put out a lot of drone-flavored albums. The album title, "Natura Non Constristatur" is Latin for "Nature Is Not Saddened," and the liner notes state that the album is "built on the contrast between raw noise and the vast, indifferent forces of nature, suggesting that the chaos we perceive is simply part of a larger, unmoved system. A sustained wash of drone, built from low frequencies, crackles and distortion." Well, I like a good concept album, so let's give this a listen and see just how little nature cares about us.

We kick it off with “Natura 1,” which is heavy multilayered drone that is pretty intense in headphones. “Natura” is a bit more spacey in approach, but every bit as heavy. This is a bit less static of a drone, as there are a lot of elements coming to the forefront. “Natura 3” keeps the heavy drone going with bits of rumbling buried beneath the surface. Finally, “Natura 4” is what it sounds like when you have a clock chiming in a sawmill pitched down by 1000. If the prior ones were spacey, this is much more down to earth, with sand and mud in the gears. Nicely done.

Overall, I like this entry from Substak. I have found some of his other work to be composed of tracks that were so similar in style as to be almost indistinguishable. This is certainly similar in style, but there are a lot of subtle differences in the tracks that keep it interesting. Now this is purely drone, so if that is not your bag your mileage may vary. But this is great stuff for building an atmosphere without being too heavy handed. This album weighs in at around 25 minutes.

Substak hails from Athens and has put out a lot of drone-flavored albums, many on Inner Demons Records. The label describes the album as “Voices in the static. Glass Whispers is a dark, immersive journey through pitch-shifted grains and infinite shadows.” Sounds like a good time, so let’s see what the voices are telling us this time.

“Glass Whispers” is one 19 minute track of heavy drone. There is a lot going on in this track, but it is subtle. This is like traveling in the cargo hold of a spacecraft. Dull machinery hum keeps steady, with only the pulsing sounds just below the surface that tell you when the engine is under load. Put this on and read your favorite dystopian science fiction. It will fit right in.

I was unfamiliar with this trio before it arrived in my mailbox, but KBD is a trio consisting of Michael Kimaid on Drums and Percussion, Gabriel Beam on Modular Synthesizer and Live Sampling, and Ryan Dohm on Trumpet, Sampler, and Tapes. They hail from Toledo Ohio (go Mud Hens!) and their website describes themselves as "a trio of musicians who perform long form improvisational sound pieces using electroacoustic instrumentation. This approach is experimental by both nature and design, and serves as a way for listeners to engage with deep and active listening." Sounds like a good time, so let's see what this trio has for us.

We kick it off with “At the Threshold,” which is a 32 minute track that sounds like noises heard through a large concrete irrigation pipe. Scrapes, thumps, and other noises with a bit of reverb. This gives way to some analog noises and other synth improvisation along with the ever present clatter. It seems that everything is grist for the improvisational mill, as cymbals, heavily processed voices, clock chimes, and what sounds like field recordings of a crowd all blend together into an interesting soundscape. At times it is chaotic and noisy, while going minimalist at others, but all rather engaging.

Turning over the tape, we have “On Waves, Under Stars,” which keeps the controlled chaos going with a bit more of a percussive feel. This is like listening to a toy factory after it has closed for the night and the toys are moving around on their own. Lots of movement and clattering noise, with woodblock, cymbals, creaking and scratching sounds, squiggly analogue noises, and turntable scratching, but this is much more restrained than the previous track. There is a whimsical quality to the track that adds a feeling of playfulness that was not as evident in the previous track.

In short, if you like it experimental and improvisational, this is one to check out. If you want something in your face, “At the Threshold” is the one to go with. If you want something that evokes a sense of being somewhere that you shouldn't, go with “On Waves, Under Stars.” Either way, you're in for a fun ride. This album weighs in at around 58 minutes.