From Carcass to Deafheaven to Ghost B.C. to freaking Black Sabbath, most of 2013’s big-ticket metal albums were audacious affairs in one respect or another. But Soma, the sophomore album from Richmond, VA’s Windhand, came in like an Appalachian fog: quietly and without fanfare, yet wholly enveloping and magical. As “extreme” music goes, Soma largely refrains from actual extremes: Windhand’s churning stoner psychedelia rolls out at a relaxed pace, but compared to, say, the funeral doom of fellow Southerners Loss, it’s almost spritely. Singer Dorthia Cottrell is neither a grunter/growler nor a falsetto-armed belter; instead, her wan, multi-tracked wail stays in a solid middle range, where she’s able to play to her own strengths, giving these songs a melodic backbone of solid steel. And while Windhand make very, very heavy music, it’s never at the expense of songcraft; most of Soma would likely sound just as entrancing with no distortion, or reverb, or wall of Marshall stacks — as evidenced by “Evergreen,” the rustic, gentle-as-the-breeze, sad-as-a-funeral acoustic number at the center of the album. Soma may not operate on any of metal’s extremes, but that’s just as well — instead, Windhand find something far greater at the genre’s big, beating heart. –Michael [LISTEN]