� � Started up by Crown Of Bone mastermind / ex-Demonologist member Dustin Redington in 2012, Occult Supremacy is a CDR label focused on "Blackened Noise, White Noise, Death Industrial, HNW, Dark Ambient, Black Metal, Horror Drone"; in other words, exactly the sort of stuff that I can't stop listening to here at C-Blast. The label's crude aesthetic is pure 90's harsh noise, with each disc issued in a limited run of fifty copies and packaged in either a slimline jewel case or a plastic sleeve with minimal Xeroxed artwork, the discs themselves either scrawled on with black magic marker or blasted with abstract spray-paint patterns. But the sound that Occult Supremacy traffics in is total horror, heavily leaning towards the bleakest strains of harsh noise wall and experimental, noise-damaged black metal, and over the past year it has maintained a crazed release schedule that has already produced nearly forty discs, from a variety of artists that includes slightly more recognizable names from the harsh electronics underground (Vomir, Burial Ground, Luasa Raelon). While we haven't been able to get all of the Occult Supremacy titles in stock, we have managed to stock a pretty large selection of their titles, all of which are recommended listening to anyone into the filthiest depths of black noise, experimental black metal, and brutal electronic noise.

� � When I initially began to listen to Anthony Shaw's harsh noise work, it was from his Cold Comfort project, which produced an excellent videocassette release last year that combined his minimal static harsh noise walls with eye-melting video/cathode tube distortions. That led me to dig into his other projects (of which there are many), my favorite being the zombie-obsessed conceptual harsh noise of Burial Ground. Largely drawing it's inspiration from Romero's iconic trilogy of hardcore zombie-gore films, Burial Ground has released three cassettes of amplified rot trance that deal with each of the films. By the time that I discovered these, the Day Of The Dead cassette was already sold out, but I was able to get some of the other two Burial Ground titles for the shop. This stuff is pure wall, with very little dynamic movement; pretty much for hardcore HNW aficionados only...

� � Night Of The Living Dead contains two twelve minute long tracks of brutal electronic overload, each one starting off with an instantly recognizable, iconic sound bite from Romero's 1968 hardcore indie-horror classic, Night Of The Living Dead explodes into a black maelstrom of extreme distortion and feedback, massive rumbling frequencies blasted with an ocean of squelchy amp-mulch that constantly rises and falls over the duration of the track. This huge roaring wall of noise seethes will all sorts of fluctuating noise and concrete-mixer crunch, the track moving constantly through varying levels of intensity into fast-moving, near junk-metal levels of sonic avalanche that come crashing down in an infinite loop of immolating, city-disintegrating power. It's enhanced by a massive low-end heaviness that situates this closer to the electronic chaos-storms of Japan's most savage noise artists and the more destructive crunch-trances of Vomir, Indch Libertine and The Cherry Point; fans of the latter artist in particular will want to check out Burial Ground's similarly horror/splatter-obsessed harsh noise sculptures. It's much more "active" and chaotic compared to the other Burial Ground tape that I picked up.

� � The second of Burial Ground's harsh noise-wall homage series to Romero's canonical trilogy of hardcore zombie splatter films, Dawn Of The Dead is a sixteen minute construction of extreme distorto-roar that begins with a classic piece of dialogue from Richard France taken from the beginning of the film, and then proceeds into the massive rumbling inferno of low-end noise and distortion that continues throughout the entire track. It's a violent, roiling mass of bass-crackle and tectonic roar that barely changes over the duration of the piece, and what changes do occur tend to be very subtle, appearing as barely perceptible shifts in volume, tone and texture and faint mechanical sounds and vibrations that reveal themselves only upon deeper listening. Of course, I'm happy enough just to crank this motherfucker to eleven and allow Burial Ground's crushing distortion-trance to roll over me like one hundred tons of debris, ash, and concrete from a collapsing building. Pure flattening distortion.

� � The third entry in Burial Ground's series takes its inspiration from the nihilistic final chapter of Romero's trilogy, starting up with a looped segment of John Harrison's original film score before exploding in signature B-Ground fashion into another sprawling mass of mesmeric black static. The longest of all of these recordings, the harsh noise wall on Day is as dense and suffocating as the rest of Burial Ground's output, a monotonous wall of seething, roiling distortion that takes on a hypnotic quality when experienced at full volume, a sound like the roar of maggots boiling on a corpse being amplified to thunderous, earth-shaking volume levels.

� � Limited to fifty copies.