On the Lord's Day, Café Bourbon Street welcomes Cult Leader, a band that sounds as though it emerged fully formed from hellfire. The hardcore metal crew's 2015 LP Lightless Walk lives up to its bleak, sunless name, piling on breathless drums, pugnacious guitar riffage and the tortured growls of man-beast singer Anthony Lucero.

On the Lord's Day, Café Bourbon Street welcomes Cult Leader, a band that sounds as though it emerged fully formed from hellfire. The hardcore metal crew's 2015 LP Lightless Walk lives up to its bleak, sunless name, piling on breathless drums, pugnacious guitar riffage and the tortured growls of man-beast singer Anthony Lucero.

In truth, however, the quartet rose from the ashes of Gaza, a Salt Lake City-based metal band that disintegrated in the wake of sexual assault charges against then-singer Jon Parkin. Rather than folding, former Gaza members Casey Hansen (drums), Mike Mason (guitar) and Lucero (who switched from bass in Gaza to vocals here) recruited bassist Sam Richards and recast themselves as Cult Leader.

As with Gaza, organized religion remains a frequent target of the band's ire, surfacing in Lightless Walk's stigmata-like cover art and lyrically in songs like "Gutter Gods," a brutal full-body heave of a tune where the players equate religion to forced slavery. "Born to chase heaven with reckless abandon," Lucero growls. "He won't love you if he can't break you."

Elsewhere, the band packs songs with visions as black and unforgiving as its music, delving into issues of childhood abuse ("How Deep It Runs"), the despair some keep masked just beneath the surface ("Sympathetic") and the hollow, hopeless feelings that can accompany modern existence ("Walking Wasteland"). Or, you know, a presidential election season in a swing state. (Don't Miss It)