Discos Macarras - Five Years Of Dark Sounds: A Sludge-Fueled Monster of Spanish Metal Fury
Alright, buckle up. This ain’t your grandma’s rock album—this is Five Years Of Dark Sounds, a gnarly slab of heavy-as-hell riffs and unrelenting chaos from Discos Macarras. Released in 2015 under the label’s own banner, this compilation brings together some of Spain’s grittiest acts across stoner rock, sludge metal, death metal, thrash—you name it. It's like someone threw a flamethrower into a room full of Marshall amps and called it art.
Now, let me break it down for ya. The tracklist reads like a twisted nightmare you don’t wanna wake up from: “Aquí les ombres mai no arribaran,” “But Woman Monkey,” “High Octane Anarchy”—you get the picture. But two tracks hit so hard they’ll leave bruises on your skull.
First up, “The End Of Times”. Holy crap, this tune is apocalyptic filth at its finest. Imagine a wall of distortion smashing through your chest while drums pound like war machines. The vocals? Gut-wrenching growls that sound like Satan gargling nails. What sticks with me here isn’t just the savagery—it’s how goddamn CATCHY it gets halfway through. There’s this riff that hooks you by the throat and doesn’t let go till the last chord collapses into feedback. You’ll be humming it days later, even if your ears are still bleeding.
Then there’s “When The Raven Is Ravenous.” If ever a song deserved to soundtrack a Viking funeral pyre, this is it. The opening riff crawls outta the speakers like something undead clawing its way outta a grave. And when the vocals kick in? Pure venom. It’s slow, dirty, and packed with enough groove to make you headbang till your neck snaps. Plus, those haunting lyrics about ravens devouring flesh? Yeah, that imagery sticks with you long after the record stops spinning.
Look, I could ramble about every track (shoutout to “Úrsula” being weird as hell and kinda awesome), but what makes this album stand out is its rawness. No shiny production tricks or over-polished nonsense—just pure, unfiltered aggression dripping with Spanish attitude. These bands aren’t trying to reinvent the wheel; they’re flattening it under tank treads.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to this feels like stepping into an alternate universe where metal never sold out. Where sweat-soaked clubs reek of cheap beer and rebellion. And honestly? That’s rare these days. So crank this sucker loud, light something on fire, and remember why heavy music hits harder than anything else.
Oh, and one last thing—why does nobody talk about how badass Catalonia smells? Just saying.
