Somehow, despite our rabid devotion to metal, your correspondent managed to miss "National Metal Day" on November 11. This may be perhaps because there's no justification for why 11/11 of all days is metal. It's hardly the coldest day of, well, winter hasn't even started yet. Was 06/06 taken? Either way, we've decided to list the best metal albums, in our esteem, that have come out during 2014. Read our suggestions, hate our suggestions and suggest your own at the bottom.

05) Eyehategod by Eyehategod

As huge fans of the sludge scene, particularly that of New Orleans, there was no album we anticipated more eagerly than the new self-titled album from Eyehategod (Twilight's III: Beneath Trident's Tomb was a close second). After all, it had been 14 years since we last heard from the band. We weren't disappointed: The group picked up right where it left off, with vocalist Mike Williams howling paranoia and working class woe like he hadn't had the chance for a decade-and-a-half. It's not tough to draw comparisons between the blues musicians of the band's hometown and the music Eyehategod creates. There may be some differences in the level of heaviness but the themes are more similar than you might initially think.

04) Dark Space III I by Darkspace

Black metal bands often get associated with cold environments because A) the most renowned of them originate in Scandinavia and B) the bands seem to buy into Dante's cold version of Hell more so than fire and brimstone. Dark Space III I doesn't suggest the wintry forests of Norway so much as it does the barren plains of Antarctica, thanks to the group's willingness to use synthesizers to provide an icy drone across the landscape of the music—almost an evil Mannheim Steamroller. Once the more typical sounds of black metal kick in (and it takes a while), the results sound like the soundtrack for a cross between The Thing and any zombie flick. Vocals make things more intense: There's screaming and just that. No words to bother trying to interpret.

03) Then It All Came Down by Wrekmeister Harmonies

The It All Came Down may be the best metal album this year for those willing to consume an academic concept while listening to a brutal album. Not that the whole thing is brutal. No, listeners must treat this like a Tootsie Pop: Waiting until the very end of the candy makes the dark center all the more enjoyable. The concept, dreamt up by Wrekmeister Harmonies frontman J.R. Robinson, explores figures such as Charles Manson and Bobby Beausoleil, who began their lives as happy entertainers...and ended them as notorious murderers. All Came Down doesn't open happily but the organ and classical touches are at least organized. Track by same-titled track, the structure begins to collapse. The album features guests as varied as violist Julie Pomerleu to Leviathan frontman Wrest. Listening to just one track from this album just won't do.

02) Melana Chasmata by Triptykon

One metal performer tends to appear on every critic's list every year, as if to prove that they totally can stand to listen to metal music. Thus far this year that option has been Triptykon's Melana Chasmata and the kudos is appropriate (as was last year's darling, Deafheaven's Sunbather). Frontman Thomas Gabriel Fischer has been around a while and a figurehead in many products—Celtic Frost, Hellhammer and Apollyon Sun—none of which are worth ignoring. Fischer doesn't have shrieks to frighten his fan base so he does so like your father giving you a firm talking-to: Although the vocalist has a gruff bark, the most sinister moments occur when he's sneering spoken-word passages at his listeners as they descend together into the black chasms referenced by the title.

01) Bestial Burden by Pharmakon

This entry is sure to generate some controversy as most listeners, and probably the performer herself, don't consider Pharmakon to be metal. Regardless of outside opinion, noise musician Margaret Chardiet has created the year's most unsettling album in the form of Bestial Burden. To hear her tell Pitchfork of the inspiration doesn't make it any more comforting: The performer nearly suffered organ failure during 2013 and spent weeks in the hospital, listening to her roommate call out for his child (who never came). The album represents the betrayal of her person by the parts that make it up. Opening number "Vacuum" is a layered collection of breathing, an eerie start, but Chardiet—who performs under the name Pharmakon—only gets more intense as she goes along. You may never want to hear this album again but you can't deny it's effect.

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