What's a headbanger to do? That grunge/alternative metal/whatever stuff doesn't really, well, rock. That Helmet-style surgical precision is too icy. Your friends laugh at your spandex-'n-studs dinosaurmetal CDs. You know all the lyrics on your Slayer albums, you play them all the time ... but you still have yearnings.

Death-metal bands understand this.

Before, they worshiped atonality to the point of religious fervor while playing asfastasyoupossiblycan and spouting lyrics that resembled the play-by-play of an autopsy. So, is it a big shock that their major-label debuts are more accessible? Or that they sound a lot better? Or that some of them owe a big debt to metal's original heart of darkness, the aforementioned Slayer, who've taken their time getting back in the studio?

Just as once-platinum pop-metal groups were forced to stand by slack-jawed as Nirvana went quadzillion platinum, more traditional metal bands have much to fear from the kinder, gentler sound of death. Megadeth should be particularly scared of Carcass. The British band – vegans who were once characterized by medical-dictionary-inspired tunes – maintains its cheerfully revolting anarchist spirit while adding Bill Steer's lovely, string-section-pure guitar leads to "Blind Bleeding the Blind." While "This Mortal Coil" is propelled by the unmistakable gallop of the '80s N(ew) W(ave) o(f) B(ritish) H(eavy) M(etal). More than their peers, Carcass understand the appeal of grandiose power – think Judas Priest with all guns blazing. Backing the depressing insights of "Arbeit Macht Fleisch" with metal's old tricks seems particularly resonant.

Saleswise, the undisputed leader of the neometal pack is Sepultura, one of the first bands of its genre to be signed by a major label. Death metal has always been particularly popular in Third World and Eastern European countries, and no one represents this new international orientation more than this band, which hails from Brazil, has played stadiums in Russia and has gone gold in Indonesia.

Sepultura view Brazil from the vantage of the street kids whose murders by death squad are currently newsmagazine fodder. Chaòs A.D.'s "Biotech Is Godzilla" (co-written by seminal punk influence Jello Biafra of the Dead Kennedys) is about biotechnological horrors and Cubatao, the most polluted town in the world; "Manifest" documents a prison riot that left over a hundred dead; many of the murdered inmates were in for loitering or some similarly vicious offense, according to Max Cavalera's snarled spoken vocal. "Kaiowas" is Chaos A.D.'s sonic surprise, a lilting acoustic tribute to a Brazilian Indian tribe that committed mass suicide rather than be forced by the government to leave its beloved rain forest.

Entombed fully embrace the slam-and-leave-'em school. From Sweden, they're a whirlwind – though one that performs seamlessly – set on pummel. Entombed's forte is Uffe Cederlund's and Alex Hellid's frightening guitar work, rendered at exhausting velocity. Listening to them is like watching an Olympic skier with a death wish – skirting mangled limbs by inches, tumbling forward with violent intent, simultaneously intricate and assaultive. Ironically, its very tidiness makes Wolverine Blues less memorable – it's kind of an impersonal killer, like one of those mutant attackers in the Terminator 2 arcade game.

A sub-subgenre, doom and gothic metal ranges from seductively malevolent (Type O Negative) to Sabbathenraptured (Cathedral). But My Dying Bride put a whole new spin on it. Suffice it to say they have a violinist, Martin, as a permanent part of the lineup.

Turn Loose the Swans (Futurist/Peaceville, 6 Greene St., New York, NY 10013) is Bram Stoker's Dracula for the ears – diving into melodrama with grace and making that aspect of life seem the only part worth living. My Dying Bride take a sickly view of traditional orchestration, coupling it with Aaron's wounded-and-pissed animal groans and growls. Poison line each precious flower petal, as if the band were Laura Ashley's evil twin. Disconsolate guitars and funereal passion – in short, music all too susceptible to adjectives but compelling nonetheless. (RS 681)

DAINA DARZIN