Though the cyclical and ever-revolving discussions about allowing or denying a platform for the nasty bastard fash may long continue, the necessity of opposition rarely creates a schism. Apart from in noise, where the blurred lines of using iconography and actual ideology wouldn't get anyone's shit played within 30 miles of a Students' Union bar.

Noticing this, Elizabeth Veldon pledged to never make harsh noise again after receiving threats against her for the apparent crime of being a feminist in a male dominated genre. The result is Noise In Opposition, a compilation of responses to the genre's ills by artists from across the globe.

Particular highlights for me are Ars Sonor's wunderdrone of 'World Without'; a gaze down a kaleidoscope of muted colours that's as calming as it is ominous. Jack Chuter's relentless triggered drums of 'Justification' that gradually fit every peg into every hole in a spectrum. 'Fight Against' by M Nomonized has a loopier edge, sounding akin to something off Rastar Noton if the stark, dry coldness was heard through an ocean of KY. Ship Canal's 'A Harrowing Explosion of Unplanned Honesty Ruptures The Veil Of Daytime Television' finds its tribal groove is the vehicle for shrill pinpricks of sound.

But the boldest and most striking statement is by far from Veldon herself. 'An Agnostic Praise For Dappled Things (A Response To Stupidity And Hate)' is a solitary, quarter hour drone. It's not unremarkable, and reminiscent of Eliane Radigue's work. It seems an honest response to direct threats of violence that offers two roads. One is a lack of commotion through defeat - though I think we can discount that idea instantly, with the compilation being proof of resistance. The other is road says that this is all she has to say. She will no longer be wound up, and this is all she has to give people who would harm her. Just a note or two. Because they're not worth more.

The deadline to submit tracks for the second Noise In Opposition compilation is November first.

Justin Broadrick of Jesu has always claimed to be writing structured pop songs under this particular moniker. You just have to search for them under the crush. Everyday I Get Closer To The Light From Which I Came is his fifth full length, and oh my, what light it is. There's a recurring motif of heavy vibrato on the guitars that dip and dive over the top of that reliable grumble that's solid and seemingly ever-present. The other recurring motif is, as the title suggests, death. Though this is not a motif of death that you'd find during his Godflesh days.

'Everyday' is pure fresh air, a slow clearing of mist showing purity and clarity in its place. As he meekly sings, "the sky invites me, the earth devours me", it feels as though it's a little more of the former, because no passing could be this peaceful, or this serene. 'The Great Leveller' extends the theme. It's the roof blown from the top of a cathedral - the ascension of a body from ruins to dappled light. If he's not getting biblical, then between the chimes of bells, brass fanfares, and musings on mortality, he's left enough Easter eggs lying around to imply otherwise.

Sly and the Family Drone are pun-friendly Home Counties heathens; never further than one twist of the Rototom from losing it. Unnecessary Woe is metronomic and hypnotic, and rhythm is everything. Rhythm drives and rhythm anchors. All else is an embellishment. Rhythm is dictatorial. They are slaves to it like Grace Jones could never have imagined, yet it is accepting of certain freedoms, like General Tito.

The freedoms in this case being blustery squall o'er the top in the case of 'Grey Meat' - a smack and shriek belter of monotonic volume. 'A Man That Could Look No Way But Downwards, With A Muck-Rake In His Hand' has less motoric leanings. The acceleration is foregone in favour of pummeling stop-start-lurch-pebble dash, and then the white lines in the centre start getting regular. It could be argued that there's excess on show and it could be argued that there's restraint, but hyperbolic balls aside this is something you can vibe to and get a noisy release from at the same time. And for that, Sly et al, I salute you.

In the grand tradition of hardcore/grindcore/(___)core polyamory, All Pigs Must Die are formed of members of Converge, The Hope Conspiracy, and Bloodhorse. Nothing Violates This Nature is the outfit's second LP and it snarls and rages with great vengeance and furious anger; ten vitriolic screeds against organized religion and societal collapse. In true form, it's lyrically dystopian. I've always had a bit of a problem with taking such intense bile seriously, but that's just me - and there's no doubting the honesty and intent. After all, it's hard to lyrically manifest such hatred in a whimsical fashion.

Nothing Violates This Nature avoids the tedium of overt metal-ness - it's tight, gives zero fucks, and allows for precisely two special segues. The rest of the album is focused on the pinpoint accuracy of deathly riffage. If you're not complicit, you're questionable.

Tim Hecker is a veritable superstar of ambient music, were such a thing to exist in the eyes of genre fans. He crafts pieces that float heavily like a barrage balloon while ranging form serenity and calmness to weighted release. Virgins is his seventh full length release, and in it he brings a sense of urgency that's pretty new for him.

'Prism' lurches forward with garbled reverse noise - like the anime sound of light hitting metal stretched in the sun. 'Live Room' has an underlying static charge more akin to something 'Strayan-born Ben Frost would pummel with. 'Black Refraction' as a piano ballad is gorgeous, yet it's still cut and stuck like riding a slow waltzer with prism glasses on. 'Everything' is refracted and coming through at glorious angles. 'Amps, Drugs, Harmonium' is breathy and pure, but the bottom drops out for 'Stigmata I' and 'Stigmata II', where crackle and repetition on a small, almost mechanical scale bring to mind the hypnotic ensembles put together by Steve Reich. 'Stab Variation' is the sound of the sun exploding. Everyone should listen to Tim Hecker all of the time.

Lastly, I'll introduce Limbs Bin to you. Some seriously broots digital powerviolence/grindcore/PE crossover which is basically blastbeats and yelping for days with the occasional moral skit smashed in between (like on 'End White Supremacy At All Costs' and 'Don't Eat Faces'). The Summertime Blues EP is up for download on his Bandcamp and it's riotous in all senses of the word. It also makes strangely good pre-drinking music. If, like me, you pre-drink alone. Or any kind of drinking for that matter, but mainly alone.