Andrey Henkin

Andrey Henkin is a writer based in Harlem whose work has appeared in various magazines and gazettes and accompanying numerous albums. He maintains the obituary website JazzPassings.com.

This past May 31, just before the start of the Jewish Shavuot holiday, another spiritual—though markedly different—convocation took place. This was the sixth presentation of Despair Sanctuary, advertised as “a drone metal vigil for all who are weary."

Despair Sanctuary. Photo: Andrey Henkin.

One of the most appealing parts of Anahata’s aesthetic is how the vocals move from raw and strangled—barely containing themselves within the speakers—to softer and cleaner, keening for something almost unobtainable. This is post-hardcore at work, the influence of all those aforementioned styles Christopher Leyba absorbed as a young man, but also a dichotomy present in all of us: inner monologue versus what we present to the world. 

Anahata. Photo courtesy of the artist.
There is something poetic about a heavy metal musician emigrating to the United States and arriving here on Halloween. But whereas that American holiday traffics in a capitalist caricature of horror, guitarist Metal Sam (his stage name; he asks not to use his given name saying “it’s dangerous, but also nobody knows me using that name”), who fled his native Afghanistan after the Taliban’s 2021 retaking of the country, and performs as Rig Veda, understands real terror and mortality.
Metal Sam. Courtesy the artist.
Gridfailure’s latest release is Shards In The Wire, a self-released solo endeavor with Brenner on synthesizers, bass, guitar, and percussion; Lovecraftian titles such as “Upheaval Of The Foundation” and “Panic Azimuth” and growled, processed vocals intoning grim visions like “Rapturous clamor / Rhythmic expulsion / Convex pulsation / Tumulus tectonics / Subduction’s machination.”
Gridfailure. Photo: David Brenner.
Adding to the chiarascuro is that Johnston doesn't record under her own name but as various project monikers. The most recent is Midwife, while Sister Grotto was her "past, ambient-based project that lived from around 2013-2016." As with many artists, various external labels apply, yet fall short. Minimalism, shoegaze, even the dreaded singer-songwriter are there, but Johnston prefers her own term: heaven metal. "I think my project lives in a lot of different genre-spaces and can exist alongside almost any kind of music," she says. "I describe Midwife as heaven metal because it seemed fitting when other genre descriptions couldn’t contain it...it’s ethereal and emotional yet it’s often about dark subject matter. I made up the genre to try to describe this cathartic interplay between worlds, angelic and devastating."
Madeline Johnston. Photo: Alan Wool.
Castrator is an all-woman death metal band founded in 2013 by bassist Robin Mazen and drummer Carolina Perez. The band’s most recent album is the long-awaited full-length slab Defiled in Oblivion (Dark Descent Records), coming seven years after its No Victim debut EP. With a new lineup featuring guitarist Kimberly Orellana and vocalist Clarissa Badini, Defiled in Oblivion uses classic death metal brutality to explore injustices against women, historical atrocities, and other dark veins and includes a cover of Venom’s "Countess Bathory." The Brooklyn Rail caught up with Mazen and Perez after they disembarked from the 70000 Tons of Metal floating festival.
Castrator. Photo: Stephanie Gentry. Logo: Jon Zig.
When watching the trio on YouTube, the players really advertise their influences: leader/saxophonist Anton Ponomarev has the shaggy tresses of a seventies European free-jazzer; electric bassist Konstantin Korolev, tall, bald, and bearded, screams extreme metal; and drummer Andrey Kim, lanky and shirtless, recalls the glory days of eighties–nineties NYC hardcore.
Teufelskeller. Photo: Mika Shlimmer.
When seven-string guitarist Álvaro Domene and alto saxophonist Álvaro Pérez met in Madrid, Spain in 2011, not only was the “same level of passion and hunger for real, creative, and exploratory high-level collaborative music” immediately evident, says Domene, “having the same name, rather than being confusing, to us was kind of a strange cosmic coincidence because it’s not that common of a name.”
Álvaro Domene. Photo: Peter Gannushkin.

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