Whitechapel

Tennessee’s Whitechapel crafts its malevolent deathcore with three guitarists. The down-tuned doom of this act is marked by finger-widdling flurries and false harmonic squeals, Phil Bozeman’s disturbingly possessed post-Pantera vocals and a rhythm section that attacks with a cornered, Gadhafi-esque cruelty. Last year’s A New Era of Corruption is both a triumph of actual songs over pure riffs and, in the wake of the tragic death of Bozeman’s mother, a monument to pessimism (“The Darkest Day of Man” and “Single File to Dehumanization”). Technically excellent yet utterly heartfelt, Whitechapel is a soundtrack for cynical teens moving out of their parents’ shadow and into the world — and that’s no small achievement.