Intro-ed with ominous soundbites that take the listener twenty years back to the days of Ministry and Public Enemy albums that actually struck fear and excitement in many a youth using similiar strategies, Cursed forces backs up against the wall like few others in metal-aligned hardcore. Any fans of Converge's crisply redlined recording style (accomplished in its own right on III by a team of engineers, mixers and masterers including Paul Aucoin, Donny Cooper, Dave Mackinnon and Alan Douches) and ability to switch gears from punk to sludge tempos with ease who haven't yet heard Cursed, get familiar.

Finally fully morphed into a lumbering psych-twang beast, Earth step further sideways from their disciples (and label boss) in Sunn O))), continuing in the direction initiated on their previous Hex full-length. With an even bigger sound than before that bluesily lopes along like an instrumental Rex or Brightblack Morning Light without the Rhodes and woozy vox, your head is less likely to bang as much as bob along to the widescreen organ-and-pedal punctuations that slowly slam into Dylan Carlson's Telecaster in Bees' best moments. Featuring a cameo from Bill Frisell, even (not that odd a coupling, actually).

Basking in the glow of absolutely rapt devotion, The Mars Volta are as divisive a band as you can find. Brandishing an ambition that lunges for all it can cram into its rampaging maw, the title Bedlam In Goliath could easily refer to the band itself. So, is it enjoyable to listen to? The band's Santana on steroids manifesto ain't for everyone, but The Mars Volta still make an adrenalized noise unlike anyone on the planet. Unfortunately, Cedric Bixler Zavala's already sky-scraping vocals are seemingly never without a pitch-shifting effect, making too much of the record sound like a duet with the Chipmunks. AL-VIN!

After a solid album whose only true flaw was a lack of editing (2005's Lullabies to Paralyze), QOTSA return fully trimmed of fat. Era Vulgaris is lean, taut, and surprisingly low on guitar solo freakouts. In fact, it's one of the closest things to a pop album that mainman Josh Homme has done. Even the trademark list of guests has been kept to a minimum. The hooks are more subtle this time, especially for a band with as much jackhammer riff power as the Queens. Drummer Joey Castillo's smartly driven groove is the MVP, providing the disc's no-nonsense, danceable backbone.

Boris' willingness to collaborate and play with expectation make them one of the most exciting and prolific bands around. Last year alone, the Japanese trio created Altar, an album of deep-drone bliss with Sunn O))), and the furious riffage of Pink. Rainbow continues the spirit of joining forces with their peers; with guitarist Kurihara in tow, the results do not disappoint. Neither as frenetic as Pink nor as ambient as Altar, Rainbow is, as the title suggests, a sun-kissed trip that has its feet planted in both the kaleidoscopic past and the bone-crushing present. Heavy and beautiful.