Tuskar

Tuskar sounds like the earth cracking open. As a two-piece, they achieve a level of sonic mass that puts five-piece bands to shame, relying on a symbiotic relationship between tectonic guitar riffs and drumming that feels more like a physical assault than a rhythm. It is thick, swampy, and unapologetically heavy, dragging the listener through the mud of sludge metal before occasionally soaring into blackened, atmospheric peaks.

What sets them apart is the sheer physicality of the performance. Because the drummer also handles the vocals, there is a desperate, strained quality to the delivery that perfectly matches the music's themes of struggle and mythic weight. The guitar tone is a wall of fuzz that feels alive, breathing and feedbacking in the spaces between the massive, slow-motion strikes of the snare.

Start with their 2022 album Matriarch. It represents the peak of their production, capturing the raw energy of their live show while allowing the more nuanced, atmospheric elements of their songwriting to shine through. It is the perfect entry point for anyone who wants to feel the air leave their lungs from the sheer pressure of a riff.