Black Dahlia Murder, shown here seething in the dark.

I am as susceptible to labels as the next dude. So it was that, circa 2003, I approached The Black Dahlia Murder’s Unhallowed debut with no small amount of trepidation.  Before I’d heard a single chord, some friend of mine blighted the band: “Man, that’s that deathcore crap,” a term as repellent to “true” metal fans as my high school mullet was to every girl I ever summoned the courage to smile at. However, I had cash in my pocket and a jones for “discovering” a new band and there were those Cthulhu-like tentacles twisting beneath their jagged and coal-blackened moniker. I took a chance and gave it a spin and the contents within revealed death metal akin to Necroticism-era Carcass. I was hooked and happy to have disregarded the “haters.” While BDM has always worn its influences like some skinned and shriveled flesh coat (2007’s Nocturnal LP owes a debt to Dissection), they have managed to manifest an off kilter presence all their own, scary yet charming, like your dad channeling the mannerisms of his father for the amusement of you and your friends at some slumber party. As a result, they have converted crowds to their cause across the globe, and now they want you, Eau Claire. Joining them are the Carcass-worshipping Californians in Exhumed (whose 2000 splatter platter Slaughtercult is to be savored by every red-blooded metal head) and Canada’s F*** the Facts (noise/grind weirdos on Relapse).