“While listening to IV.I.VII, the excellent and upcoming album from Indianapolis band Coffinworm, try to avoid asking yourself just what kind of metal they make: It’ll only cause fatigue. Across the album’s 40 minutes, Coffinworm (whose publicist, Kim Kelly, is a writer for Pitchfork) navigate a logjam of metals black and sludge, doom and death, inexhaustibly pushing elements of each form atop, und”
