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814 results for “falling_stone”
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Robert E. Howard - The Complete Chronicles of Conan
Did I enjoy it? Yes.
Would I recommend it? No.The racism and sexism are at the level I would expect from a white rural Texan writing in the 1930's. Even though explicitly praising diversity of peoples (races) when describing nations or cities, his women are mostly passive and always taken and 'savages' are all too often cruel blacks. His romantic view of the 'barbarian' as a man with innate decency and other talents lost to 'civilized men' is something that was dated even in the 1930's.
So why did I enjoy this collection still?
For one there is the 'antropological' aspect of reading this kind of stuff. Besides that, these short stories are like the SF of that era, completely plot-driven, fast paced. You want to turn that page. Lastly there are stylistic aspects that hint back to the oral traditions of Norse myths. For instance the use of alliterations, like 'the lurking listener' 'a purple pulp' (what Conan would have been if crushed by a falling stone) and even better Howard's use of kennning-like descriptions. 'The sharp cloud' for a barrage of arrows, 'blue rolling wastes' for the sea and 'his crimson work' for Conan slaying his enemies.
#WatWouterLas26 #Bookstodon #Boekstadon
#LezenIsLeuk #FantasyReads #Reading #BigBook -
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The Stones Arches of Ballydehob
The tide was full, and the water had gone completely flat, so the stone arches came out twice in the frame. We were lucky. The weather back home in Blarney was atrocious, with rain falling from cloudy skies....
https://inphotos.org/2026/08/30/the-stones-arches-of-ballydehob/
#Ballydehob #Cork #Ireland #LandscapePhotography #Photo #Photography #railway #reflection #StoneBridge #TidalEstuary #Viaduct #WestCork
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The Stones Arches of Ballydehob
The tide was full, and the water had gone completely flat, so the stone arches came out twice in the frame. We were lucky. The weather back home in Blarney was atrocious, with rain falling from cloudy skies.https://inphotos.org/2026/08/30/the-stones-arches-of-ballydehob/
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The rise of candidates centering gun violence is a result of the growing prevention movement across the US, which has become something of 👉a pipeline for new candidates running for office.
#Maxwell #Frost, the nation’s first gen Z US representative, started off as a volunteer before becoming organizing director for
"March for Our Lives",
the gun-safety group founded by survivors of the 2018 mass shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas high school in #Parkland, Florida.Georgia representative #Lucy #McBath, whose son Jordan Davis was shot and killed in 2012,
and Virginia governor-elect #Abigail #Spanberger were both volunteers with the gun-safety group
"Moms Demand Action" before they ran for office.And #Cameron #Kasky, a survivor of the Parkland shooting who helped to organize the March for Our Lives student protests, recently announced his campaign to represent Manhattan, New York, in Congress.
“I see myself as a small part of a bigger movement. It’s the reason I got into politics,” Frost said.
“I was 15 when #Sandy #Hook happened and that’s what pushed me to get involved in organizing and it’s remained a big piece of my organizing.”
Today, calling out gun-rights lobbyists and groups like the National Rifle Association ( #NRA ) is common among Democrats vying for political office.
But less than 15 years ago, many moderate Democrats held A ratings from the NRA and the subject of regulating guns was a third rail that could spell an end to political aspirations,
said #Shannon #Watts, a violence-prevention activist and founder of Moms Demand Action.“It was gradual and not linear,”
she said of the change that’s happened.
“We saw that our volunteers were running for office and thought it was common sense that someone who was learning how to shape legislation would want to take the next step to make the legislation as an elected official.”Watts marks the 2012 mass shooting at Sandy Hook elementary school, in which a gunman
killed 20 children and six adults,
and the subsequent failure of Congress to pass gun-safety policies, as a watershed moment that pushed formerly gun-friendly Democrats like former West Virginia senator #JoeManchin, Minnesota governor #Tim #Walz and former Arizona representative #Ann #Kirkpatrick to risk their A rating from the NRA to call for restrictions on gun-#magazine #capacities and #assault #weapons.
⭐️Now, having an F rating from the group is a point of pride.“After Parkland, zero Democratic members of Congress had an A rating and were proud about it.
That’s a seismic shift,”
Watts added.
“I think it’s proof positive that playing the long game works.
Lucy [McBath] ran for a seat held by Republicans and she ran on the issue of gun safety.
It shattered a lot of misperceptions and fears about being gun safety-forward.The issue of gun violence has also activated newcomers to politics.
#Shaundelle #Brooks’s son, Akilah Dasilva, was one of four people killed in a mass shooting at a #Nashville Waffle House in 2018.Five years later, in 2023, another son, who survived the Waffle House shooting, was shot and injured while leaving a Nashville music venue.
After her son’s death, Brooks said she regularly would go to the statehouse to advocate for gun laws that she feels could have prevented the death of her son and so many others.
After years of her pleas falling on unreceptive ears, she decided to run for office.
“There was a time where people were scared to even mention it while they were running.
And I remember not voting for certain people because of that.
So I am grateful that people are standing up, speaking out and being brave about it,” Brooks said.
“Coming up here for seven years and having them just ignoring me,
testifying and then being told that if my son had a gun that would have saved his life,
showed me that I needed to do more than what I was doing.”The personal experiences of loss unite people like Brooks and Pearson with the scores of Americans who are part of what gun-violence victims and survivors describe as a club that no one wants to be a part of.
“When people see you’re personally impacted,
they feel that you’re more credible to talk about this kind of stuff.They know it’s not a political thing for us,” she said
https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2026/jan/02/gun-safety-law-us-legislation?CMP=Share_iOSApp_Other -
Stuck in the Filter: January 2026’s Angry Misses By KenstrosityFinally, the new year is upon us! A fresh start for some, same shit different year for others; mainly, my minions who toil in the mines ducts of the Filter. Since they don’t get any holidays, they probably don’t even fucking know it’s 2026 yet, but that’s okay. As long as they come back to HQ with a substantial haul, their ability to know when it is is immaterial.
These are the sacrifices we (not me, though), make to ensure you get the goods relatively on time-ish. So say thank you!
Kenstrosity’s Freaky Foursome
Upiór // Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) [January 2nd, 2026 – Self Released]
Featuring members of Gorod (Benoit Claus) and Xaoc (Kévin Paradis), Upiór pinged my radar after a certain cosmic Discordian pinged me. A blistering combination of Fleshgod Apocalypse opulence and Wachenfeldt aggression, sophomore release Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) impressed me immediately as “The Black Paintings ripped my face right off. “A Blessing or a Curse” doubled down on speed, blasting rhythms, and eerie melodies to propel itself straight into my Song o’ the Year long-list. Even with three instrumental interludes, all of which are quite fluffy, Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) crams pummeling riffs, exuberant percussion, and dramatic lushness into its 51-minute runtime. “Forefathers’ Eve (Part I),” a fantastic companion to Fleshgod Apocalypse’s “Cold As Perfection” without aping its features, conjures a similarly affecting character that draws me in completely. Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption)’s middle section continues to build personality and develop greater dynamics from that point, represented most clearly in melodic riffs and expressive leads/soloing (“The Woman that Weeps”). Leading into its conclusion, a tonal shift towards the dire at this junction foreshadows the imminent release of Upiór’s second act, Forefathers’ Eve (Damnation) (due in early April), charring songs like “Forefather’s Eve (Part II)” and “Between the Living and Dead” with blackened rabidity and dissonant flourishes. All of this to say, Upiór launched this latest arc with a striking blow, and I can only imagine what’s in store for Damnation.
Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) by Upiór
KadavriK // Erde666 [January 9th, 2026 – Self Released]
Germany’s melodic death metal quintet KadavriK have been cranking out records since 2007, but I only heard about them this year, once again, thanks to Discord. Erde666, their fifth outing, takes an unorthodox and progressive approach to melodic death metal, which makes comparisons difficult to draw. Stripped down and raw in some moments, mystical and lush in others, Erde666 is all about textures. Its opening title track explores that spectrum of sounds and philosophies to its fullest, even drawing heavy influence from blues, psychedelia, and sludge at times (“Getrümmerfreund”), but it all coalesces seamlessly. Following up an opener as strong as that would be a tall order for anyone, but KadavriK are clever songwriters, and the long form served them well even compared to the more straightforward tracklists of previous installments (“Nihilist,” “Das Ende Des Anthropozäns”). Off-kilter guitar melodies countered against twinkling Kalmah synths and sweeping strings do a lot of work to elevate and liven the crushing chords of their high-impact riffs as well, which adds a ton of interest into an already unconventional melodic death record (“Widerhall”). All of this makes for a record that might not be as immediate or fast-paced as most aim for in this space, but, counterintuitively, significantly more memorable. Don’t sleep on this one, folks!
Luminesce // Like Crushed Violets and Linen [November 20th, 2026 – Self Released]
Prolific at a scale I haven’t witnessed since Déhà, Luminesce mastermind Alice Simard, based in Québec, piqued my curiosity for the first time with Like Crushed Violets and Linen, her sophomore effort under the Luminesce moniker. Boasting machine-gun rapidity (“Exploited Monochromaticism”), off-kilter rhythms (“Silver”), and a downright romantic sense of melody (“Like Crushed Violets and Linen,” “Lamp of Fulguration”)—countered by lyrical themes ranging from guilt complexes to gender identity (“To Restore”)—Like Crushed Violets and Linen is a deeply personal record forged in a melodic technical death metal mold. And as such a record, it recalls the vicarious guitar pyrotechnics of Inferi and Obscura while securing a melodic sensibility more in line with neoclassical composition (“The Covenant of Counterfeit Stars”). Unlike many of her contemporaries, however, Alice is a master of editing. Filled with killer ideas and instrumental wizardry without involving a drop of bloat, each of these seven songs coalesce into a buttery-smooth 30-minute excursion that punches far above its feathery mass. The addition of delightful chiptune dalliances helps distinguish Luminesce further from the pack (“To Restore”), though I’m torn about how far forward they are in the mix. In fact, the mix is my main gripe, as Like Crushed Violets and Linen is muffled and a bit flat, despite boasting a much-appreciated meaty bass presence. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for an unlikely tech-death contender, Luminesce might be just what you need.
Like Crushed Violets and Linen by Luminesce
Bone Storm // Daemon Breed [January 30th, 2026 – Self Released]
As the CEO of this Filter company, I withhold the right to break the rules and include a very cool bonus fourth option, Bone Storm’s cavebrained Daemon Breed. Do you like Bolt Thrower? Yes, you do. Do you like Bear Mace? Yes, you do. By proxy, then, you already like Connecticut’s Bone Storm as they draw from the same chunky, groove-laden school of death metal. At a somewhat overachieving 50 minutes, Daemon Breed pummels the listener beneath a veritable smorgasbord of neck-breaking riffs built upon a framework of triplet grooves, swaggering syncopations, and galloping double bass assaults. Their approach is simple and unburdened by blistering speed, fiddly technicality, or atmospheric deviation, and in that way recalls the undeniable immediacy and brutal effectiveness of records like Black Royal’s Firebride. With highlights “Heaven’s End (Burn Them All),” “Plaguerider,” “Sanctimonious Morality,” and above all “Ritual Supremacy,” Bone Storm use that approach with aplomb, proving that the spirit of classic, no-frills death metal is vital and vicarious. Delightfully cogent roars and gutturals allow the most difficult deliveries (see “Daemon Breed”) to feel vicious and purposeful, while a subtle thread of melody (see “Cursed Born”) affords the record a small measure of songwriting variety to break things up just when Daemon Breed needs it most. Heavy reliance on triplets and perhaps a zealous desire to put down every idea that seems good even if it’s placed immediately adjacent to much better one (“Halo of Disease” and “Hammer of Judas” bookending “Ritual Supremacy” are tough positions to defend, as is “Wrist Slitter” next to the fun Frozen Soul-esque “Blood Priest”), hold it back from higher praise only mildly. Moral of the story? Enter the bone zone, with haste!
Creeping Ivy’s Riffy Remainder
Lord Elephant // Ultra Soul [January 30th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]
Sometimes, you don’t need dynamic songwriting, harmonic density, or even a vocalist. Sometimes, all you need are riffs. Okay, and maybe some psychedelic leads to go over those riffs. Ultra Soul, the sophomore album from Italian instrumental trio Lord Elephant, delivers 48 minutes of pure, mostly unadulterated stoner-doom. In the feudal jungle of heavy riff rock, Lord Elephant pays scutage to King Buffalo, similarly forming longish compositions where simple, bluesy figures reign supreme, stretching their limbs in grassy patches. Occasionally, guitarist Leandro Gaccione, bassist Edoardo De Nardi, and drummer Tommaso Urzino lock into some lively, head-bobbing grooves (“Gigantia”). But mostly, Lord Elephant keeps things meditative, hypnotizing listeners with Earthless drones and lurches (“Smoke Tower,” “Black River Blues”). De Nardi’s bass often leads the way (“Electric Dunes”), the underwater tone of which reminds me of falling for Isis.1 Lord Elephant aren’t reinventing any wheels here; the familiarity of their bluesy riffing simply won’t interest those for whom such bluesiness is a staid marker of old-man rock. The absence of vocals, however, makes Ultra Soul work as pseudo-ambient music that can set the mood, or accompany tasks, or gateway a normie. Closer listening will reveal, though, a tight trio reveling in the rudiments of rock music—a drummer, bassist, and guitarist vibing on a riff.
Andy-War-Hall’s Salvaged Windfall
Juodvarnis // Tékmés [January 23rd, 2026 – Self Released]
Lithuania’s Juodvarnis cooked for a long six years between albums for their fourth record Tékmés. With the confidence and sharpness displayed on all levels by Juodvarnis here, that was clearly time well spent in the kitchen. Sporting a brand of progressive black metal that blends the Enslaved framework of prog-black with the epic heft and melody of Iotunn and the crushing rhythms and harsh vocals of Gojira, Tékmés is tight, lively and achieves a remarkable level of melancholic thoughtfulness without neglecting the average listener’s chronic need for riffs. Translated to “flow” from Hungarian,2 Tékmés navigates inter-song and album-wide progressions of pummeling rhythms (“Dvasios Ligos”) and slow marches (“Tamsiausias Nušvitimas”), impassioned clean vocals (“Platybės”) and razor-throated screams (“Juodos Akys”) to achieve a gradual, natural sense of advancement across its 42-minute journey. If progressive black metal that knows how to riff and can turn the reverb off 11 sounds like a good time to you, give Juodvarnis’ Tékmés a shot sometime.
Thus Spoke’s Obscure Offerings
Ectovoid // In Unreality’s Coffin [January 9th, 2026 – Everlasting Spew Records]
Normally, it takes copious amounts of reverb, wonkiness, melody, or turbo-dissonance for death metal to be palatable to me. Every once in a while, however, an album like Ectovoid’s In Unreality’s Coffin comes along and shows me that there is another way. The music’s stickiness has a lot to do with its boundary-straddling take on OSDM. Ostensibly, the battering, percussion, sawblade riffing, and gruff gurgling growls mark it as your everyday modern no-nonsense death metal, somewhere between Cryptopsy and Immolation. But In Unreality’s Coffin is more like tech-death, disso-death, and brutal-death in a trench coat than it is any one of them, or another subgenre.3 Its arpeggios can be rhythmically snappy, sometimes combined with equally sharp vocal delivery (“Intrusive Illusions (Echoes from a Distant Plane)”), but more often than not channel a churning chaos that resists punchiness for a darker unease I find addictive (“Collapsing Spiritual Nebula,” “Erroneous Birth”). The music is constantly speeding up or slowing down, churning guitars collapsing with slides (“Dissonance Corporeum”) or pitching upwards in squeals (“In Anguished Levitation”), or evolving into mania as screams and growls fragment and layer (“Formless Seeking Form”). Rather than being exhausting, it’s exhilarating, with expertly-timed releases of diabolically echoing melody (“Collapsing Spiritual Nebula”) or a new groove to latch onto (“In Unreality’s Coffin”) coming to keep you afloat. Ectovoid keep you guessing without actually really pushing the boundaries, making In Unreality’s Coffin both a lot of fun and straightforwardly br00tal enough to sustain a savage workout; or just a really intense 45 minutes.
In Unreality’s Coffin by Ectovoid
Exxûl // Sealed into None [January 15th, 2026 – Productions TSO]
Phil Tougas has had an impressive start to the year. Before Worm’s Necropalace this February, came Sealed into None, the debut by Exxûl—a genre-blending, kinda blackened epic-power-doom-heavy-metal group also comprising several of Phil’s Atramentus band-mates. Several people brought up this album in the comments on my Worm review, often to the tune of “Exxûl better,” and while I respectfully disagree on the quality ranking of the two, I can’t deny how fabulous Sealed into None is. Here again are genres of music I’m usually unable to connect with—in this instance, power and classical heavy metal—but shaped in a way that opens my eyes and ears. Yes, the high-pitched wail style of singing first took me a little off-guard when they first arose on “Blighted Deity,” and they offend my usual tastes. But they are impressive, and work in a way I thought only harsh vocals could when following the trajectory of distorted keys and guitar (“Walls of Endless Darkness”), or shouting into an atmospheric abyss (“The Screaming Tower”). Oh, and of course, the overall vibe of magnificent, melodramatic blackened doom that sets the scene, capped off with—predictably—phenomenal guitarwork, is just magic and enough for me to get past my knee-jerk vocal ick and love it not in spite of that, but because of what it can bring to the whole. I love the slow builds to dazzling solos (“Bells of the Exxûl through to “Blighted Deity,” “The Screaming Tower”) and the way the camper, heavy-metal sides blur into something darker (“Labyrinthine Fate”). I just love this album, to be honest.
ClarkKent’s Canadian Catch
Turpitude // Mordoré [January 1, 2026 – Self Released]
Since 2019, Alice Simard has been a prolific presence in Quebec’s underground metal scene. She consistently releases albums for several different projects, from the ambient atmoblack of Coffret de Bijoux to the tech death of Luminesce (also uncovered in this month’s Filter by our Sponge Fren). Mordoré, the fourth full-length for Turpitude, thrives on its riffs and carries a cheerful energy reminiscent of the carefree raw black metal of Grime Stone Records stalwarts Wizard Keep and Old Nick. Yet Simard opts for traditional instruments, no synths, though production choices make the drumsticks sound as if they’re banging against blocks of wood, give the guitars a lofi reverb, and cause Simard’s voice to fade into the background in a cavernous growl. The riffs are the real star, with some terrifically catchy melodic leads and trems throughout (“La Traverse Mordorée,” “Aller de L’avant”). This combination of riffs, a raw sound, and often upbeat tunes draws comparison to Trhä and To Escape. While Mordoré keeps a mostly cheery tone, Turpitude’s no one-trick pony. There’s a tinge of the melancholic on the moody, atmospheric “Peintra,” as well as a successful stab at covering a non-metal song a lá Spider God on “Washing Machine Heart.”4 This is a worthwhile endeavor for those who like their black metal raw and energetic.
Grin Reaper’s Heavy Haul
Valiant Sentinel // Neverealm [January 16th, 2026 – Theogonia Records]
Greek heavy metal heroes Valiant Sentinel dropped their sophomore platter Neverealm back in mid-January, unleashing forty-six minutes that reek of high fantasy. Galloping riffs, driving drums, and vocal harmonies aplenty supply a cinematic adventure that basks in fun. While the pacing of Neverealm mainly operates in high-energy bombast, Valiant Sentinel smartly weaves in mid-paced might, evidenced by how the controlled assault of “Mirkwood Forest” provides a breather after opening chest-thumpers “War in Heaven” and “Neverealm.” Acoustic pieces “To Mend the Ring” and “Come What May” further diversify Neverealm’s heavy metal holdings, and while I’m usually keener on more aggressive numbers, these two tracks comprise some of my favorite moments on the album.5 Mostly, Valiant Sentinel summons comparisons to Germany’s heavy/power scene—chief among them Blind Guardian—going so far as to bring in BG drummer extraordinaire Frederik Ehmke. I also catch fleeting glimpses of Brainstorm and Mystic Prophecy in Valiant Sentinel’s DNA, though guitarist and composer Dimitris Skodras does a commendable job carving out a distinct identity for the band. Featuring skilled performances across the board and guest spots from Burning Witches’ Laura Guldemond (“Neverealm”) and Savatage’s Zak Stevens (“Arch Nemesis”), Valiant Sentinel packs loads of drama into a streamlined package. So what are you waiting for? Go grab your polyhedrals and a Spelljammer, and set sail for Neverealm.
Fili Bibiano’s Fortress // Death Is Your Master [January 30th, 2026 – High Roller Records]
Does Shredphobia keep you away from metal? Does the sultry siren call of licks, riffs, and chugs make you break into a cold sweat? If so, I strongly urge you to stay away from Fortress’ sophomore album, Death Is Your Master. Channeling Tony Martin-era Black Sabbath and 80s Judas Priest, Fortress drops six-string shenanigans that’ll get your booty shaking and the floor quaking, offering a romping retro slab that goes down slow ‘n’ easy. The overt classic 80s heavy metal worship on tracks “Flesh and Dagger” and “Night City” delivers riff after riff recalling the glory days, giving Fortress an authenticity that expands what could have otherwise been a one-dimensional LP. Guitarist Fili Bibiano sizzles with axe-slinging abandon, occasionally conjuring the neoclassical debauchery of Yngwie (“Savage Sword,” “Maze”). Still, it’s not all about the guitar, and drummer Joey Mancaruso and vocalist Juan Aguila nail their contributions as Fortress wends their way through a trim thirty-four minutes. On a guitar-forward album featuring slick songwriting and singalong jams, Death Is Your Master bumps, dives, and wails in a slow-burn frenzy of classic heavy goodness. Dig in!
Death Is Your Master by Fili Bibiano’s Fortress
Baguette’s Brutal Burglary
Skulld // Abyss Calls to Abyss [January 23rd, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]
While last year was alright for death metal and notably starred Dormant Ordeal, I felt it was lacking in quantity of impressive releases for said cornerstone of the metal underground. Fortunately, Italian group Skulld is here to start off the year with a bang! Abyss Calls to Abyss takes Bolt Thrower’s tank-rolling grooves (“Mother Death”) and Dismember’s melodic buzzsaw action (“Wear the Night as a Velvet Cloak”) and adds in some crust punk influence as extra seasoning (“Le Diable and the Snake”). It feels like they’ve taken some influence from both Finnish and Swedish varieties of death metal as well, and I’m here for it! The band is fluent in switching things up at the drop of a hat without sacrificing energy or cohesion. “Mother Death” and “Drops of Sorrow” go from heavy, dissonant chords to big lead guitar melodies, which in turn lead to a chunky and punky death metal groove that’s bound to get your head moving. Teo’s drumming controls the mood in excellent fashion, adding fast blast beats or slow-pummelling stomps when called for. The vicious, varied growls of Pam further cement the violence contained within and add to the album’s attitude. At a brief 34 minutes spread over eight songs, it wastes no time going for your throat in a multitude of ways. Get this album into your skull or get Skulld!
Total Annihilation // Mountains of Madness [January 16th, 2026 – Testimony Records]
What would happen if you took Vader, Slayer and Sodom and threw them in a big ol’ manic death/thrash blender? The answer is Mountains of Madness! While Swiss Total Annihilation’s earliest works were more in line with classic ’80s thrash metal, they have increasingly moved towards more aggressive and relentless pastures, and their songwriting is all the better for it. Fourth album Mountains of Madness channels records like Vader’s Litany and Sodom’s Tapping the Vein in particular (“The Art of Torture,” “Age of Mental Suicide”), taking advantage of a relentless, drum-forward groove and a furious vocal performance. The album’s dual guitar attack weaves together thrashier tunes with parts that reach straight up Swedeath territory, be it melodic or not. In addition, tracks like “Mountains of Madness” and “Choose the Day” throw some melodic thrash akin to Sodom’s self-titled album into the mix for that extra bit of variety and replay value. Mountains of Madness isn’t afraid to slow things down with a satisfying lead riff, but most of Mountains of Madness is at a respectful lightning-fast pace, as thrash should. Another brief but powerful addition to the January pile ov skulls!
Mountains Of Madness by Total Annihilation
Polaris Experience // Drifting Through Voids [January 2nd, 2026 – Distant Comet Entertainment]
On the earliest days of the year, Japan delivered an awesome surprise drop of death metal-influenced progressive thrash! Polaris Experience features various Cynical riffs (“Interplanetary Funambulist,” “Bathyscapes”) while sporting a similarly old-school guitar tone throughout. Being progressive thrash, the main focus is naturally on the oh-so-sweet instrumentation that balances melody and groove seamlessly. The instrumental “Parvati” alone highlights how tight everything is, from the snappy drumming to the bouncy bass work. Most importantly, the music is catchy and memorable despite its relative complexity and lack of brevity. Additionally, Drifting Through Voids uses vocals sparingly but in all the right ways, complementing its technicalities with a traditional thrashy, harsh bark. The fact that it’s a two-man project and a debut makes it all the more impressive. Fans of similar recent progressive and technical shenanigans like Species should take notes post-haste. Considering we’ve already had this and Cryptic Shift this early in the year, and how prog/tech thrash is usually only allowed one or two notable albums per year, we could be in for a banner year for the subgenre. It also marks the first time in ages that a Japanese album has genuinely good production. Welcome to the new millennium!
Drifting Through Voids by Polaris Experience
#2026 #AbyssCallsToAbyss #AmericanMetal #Atramentus #BearMace #BlackMetal #BlackRoyal #BlackSabbath #BlackenedDeathMetal #BlindGuardian #BoltThrower #BoneStorm #Brainstorm #BurningWitches #CalliopeCarnage #CanadianMetal #CoffretDeBijoux #CrypticShift #Cryptopsy #Cynic #DaemonBreed #DeathMetal #Dismember #DistantCometEntertainment #Doom #DoomMetal #DormantOrdeal #DriftingThroughVoids #Earthless #Ectovoid #Enslaved #EpicMetal #Erde666 #EverlastingSpewRecords #Exxûl #FiliBibianoSFortress #FleshgodApocalypse #ForefatherSEveRedemption #Fortress #GallowglassGalas #GermanMetal #Gojira #Gorod #GreekMetal #Hardcore #HeavyMetal #HeavyPsychSounds #HighRollerRecords #Immolation #InUnrealitySCoffin #Inferi #InternationalMetal #Iotunn #ItalianMetal #Jan26 #JapaneseMetal #JudasPriest #Judovarnis #KadavriK #Kalmah #KingBuffalo #LikeCrushedVioletsAndLinen #LithuanianMetal #LordElephant #Luminesce #MelodicDeathMetal #Mitski #Mordoré #MountainsOfMadness #Neverealm #Obscura #OldNick #PolarisExperience #PowerMetal #ProductionsTSO #ProgressiuveMetal #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Punk #Review #Reviews #Savatage #SealedIntoNone #SelfRelase #SelfReleased #Skulld #Slayer #Sodom #Species #SpiderGod #StonerDoom #StonerMetal #StuckInTheFilter #StuckInTheFilter2026 #SwissMetal #SymphonicDeathMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tékmés #TestimonyRecords #TheogoniaRecords #Therion #ThrashMetal #TimeToKillRecords #ToEscape #TotalAnnihilation #Trhä #Turpitude #UltraSoul #Upiór #Vader #ValiantSentinel #Wachenfeldt #WizardKeep #Worm #Xaoc -
“Ry’Mir’s Dive” Sneak Preview and the Next Book of the Series
Dr. Tucker’s office, the following day…
Sure enough, my usual teammates (Dioncel, Tre’Von, and Andre), Coach Langley, Chi’Anna & Ra’Nada (representing the Vogues with the former’s dad also in tow), Enrique (representing the Denzels),and I were in the good therapist’s office. Colton was also there with me, knowing that the final stage of this confessional was going to be mandatory if I was to not only gain closure with my past but also prepare me with the football and cheerleading teams, Dean DeGrawue, and “The Devil of the Pool.”
And despite the waves of nerves threatening to crash me out, I had to see this through to the end.
“Ry’Mir, last night was a long night for you and Colton,” Dr. Tucker stated after a bit of small talk. “It wasn’t easy for you boys to go beyond your comfort zone despite the consequences if you didn’t attend those gridiron boys’ party. How are you feeling at the moment?”
I inhaled deeply. “Honestly? I’m a mixed bag of emotions,” I admitted. “Mad because I was far from prepared despite all that we could do. Scared because ‘The Devil of the Pool’ could be watching and listening in on this without warning. And yet, I’m also feeling tired of having to run away from the past and ready because I want to be able to control my story from my point of view without being threatened with exiled or seen in a bad way. I just want this over and done, you know?”
“Including this session about Costello?” Tre’Von asked.
“Especially that.”
Dr. Tucker went into therapist mode as she grabbed her notes and pen. “Then let’s get started,” she said. “The days leading up to the eventual arrest of Costello, how was your mindset and headspace?”
With a nod from Coach, I dove right in. “Me having to play the games of survival with a man who can ruin your reputation if you didn’t warm his bed was like…it was like I was diving into the deeper parts of an inactive volcano,” I began. “I didn’t want to let him taint my body any more than he already had, but I also didn’t want to be sent to one of the state-run group run homes where kids like me were either beaten or left for themselves. So, I had to play the role of his young lover, let him take me into his pool house after coaching me on my diving techniques or when I had a meet for my school’s team or that in the YMCA.”
“Did your foster parents have any clue on what was going on?” Coach asked gently.
“If they did, I didn’t notice anything and I was wise enough to not let it show how I was hurting when I sat down. The man meant every word- if I didn’t comply or thought about telling Joel or Lois, he’d spin it to make them think that I came on to him and send me away without a fair chance,” I answered. “But on that fateful day, you can pretty much guess that things were about to go down south. Not for me, but for him…”
*********
FLASHBACK (The Day of Reckoning)…
The good news was that Joel and Lois had themselves an off day from their restaurant, allowing themselves time to step back and let loose.
The bad news was that they decided to go to the movies while believing that I needed someone to look after me while they were gone. And that someone, which was the worst news, was Costello because Joel thought that he could use some time away from his home and more time in theirs. “Plus, we know that he’s protective of you and says that you give him no trouble at all,” Lois said as she and her husband were on their way out the door. “So make sure to mind him and give him your undivided attention, Ry’Mir.”
As if I had any choice.
Soon after I came from a relaxing shower after a grueling workout session and a swim at the YMCA, the man was at the door with his shirt removed and his eyes were full of lust. “Such a pretty boy for me,” he said as he climbed on top of my naked body and started kissing my stomach and chest. “My, Lois and Joel are lucky enough to have you in their home.”
“Please stop,” I whimpered. “I’ll tell if you-“
“If you do open your mouth, no one’s going to believe you since you’ll be seen as a jealous liar and a little boy-slut,” he hissed in a seductive yet threatening manner. “You don’t want to make them mad at you, do you?”
I shook my head no, knowing that he was right. If I even dared to tell anyone about him grooming and molesting me, he’d paint me as the bad guy while he would get away with everything.
“Then you’ll play ball with me and I’ll make sure that you’ll be rewarded for your silence,” he said as he reached into his discarded jeans and grabbed some condoms. “Not only that, I’ll make sure that you’ll remember me as your first time. And I can be very generous to little pretty boys like you.“
All I could do was steel my tears from falling down my face as I let him place my legs on his shoulders before sheathing himself with the condom.
“Make this go away, God,” I thought to myself as he entered himself into me. “Let this nightmare end because I-“
“Oh, my Lord! Ry’Mir!”
My stomach dropped low to see a stunned Lois and her furious husband at the doorway, the latter ready to punch his friend in the nose. Only the man didn’t bother slowing down his pace as he ravished me. “J-Joel. Lois,” I whimpered.
It all happened so fast. One moment, Costello was continuously enjoying himself while I had to take it. The next moment, the man was thrown off of me while Lois wrapped me in a towel before sirens filled the air outside. “He liked it, you know?! Your little boy-slut was asking for it,” the disgraced man sneered as he was led away in handcuffs, Joel fighting the urge to knock the man out again as onlookers took in the sight outside.
“Ry’Mir, how long did he take advantage of you like this?” Lois asked while officers were by her side in the living room. “I’m not mad at you, honey. I need to know the truth.”
It was time to come clean as I finally let the waterworks go into overdrive and I told them everything. “I’m so sorry,” I bawled as I was wrapped in a hug. “Please don’t send me away. I had to keep quiet because he could paint me as the bad guy.”
“Son, you have nothing to be sorry for,” one female officer said gently. “We had him on our radar for a while, and your testimony will ensure that he gets what he deserves.”
“I agreed,” Joel grunted as his glare softened when he faced me. “Ry’Mir, I am so sorry I trusted that shithead into your care. If I had known, I would’ve gladly ended him sooner. The worst fact is that Lois and I were blind to the whole thing and the man had his sadistic thrill with other boys before you. So you’ve saved your life as well as those other boys.”
I only let the tears fall as I was gradually led into a whirlwind of testimonies at trials, days spent in solitude thinking, and even a period where I had to take basic therapy sessions with other survivors of child/teen molestation. But the moment the man was convicted and sent to prison, I made a vow: I wanted to bury the past and only move forward by focusing on my diving competitions and academics.
It was time for me to go forward, but in my own way…
***********
PRESENT-DAY
I inhaled deeply, not caring if the tears were cascading from my eyes as I knew everyone else was doing the same. “Some days were better than others,” I finished. “And before coming here, I had a few nightmares that left me sleepless at times for days. But I had to push all my feelings down and lock them away if I wanted to keep my eyes forward.”
“My God, Ry’Mir,” Ra’Nada said, stifling a sob as she accepted a tissue from a stone-faced Andre. “This whole story is…wow.”
“But now, we gotta deal with these people who seem to know about Ry’Mir’s story and are planning to expose him at the next meet,” Dioncel stated, crossing his arms. “And that’s today as we’re facing off against Howard.”
To me, “I hate to suggest this, bro, but you need to sit that meet out for your safety. These football trolls and cheerleaders aren’t playing around, and neither is Dean DeGrawue.”
“Well, the meet’s postponed for today since they had a lockdown scare,” Coach Langley stated. “But they’re going to meet with us the week after next. And I disagree, Dioncel. Ry’Mir said that he wants to tell this story for himself and keep control of the matter by his own terms.”
“But what happens if Ry’Mir gets jumped?” Andre asked. “Or worse? And we still have no idea on who this ‘Devil of the Pool’ is. Incredible!”
“Then that’s the chance I’ll have to make,” I stated. To my coach, “Can you get me that appointment with the school’s president?”
“Already done,” Enrique interjected. “He actually wants to see you for some reason, Ry’Mir. And I warned him that if he turns on you just because of your past, he’ll be answering to me and all the Denzels and Vogues.”
“That goes double for me,” Dr. Tucker said. “And yes, he knows about these therapy settings with you, Tre’Von, Dioncel, and Andre. And I told him that things are getting serious with your situation. So he’ll want to talk to you over tea. When is it?”
“Tomorrow. His private quarters, which isn’t far from the natatorium. You’ll be there after practice tomorrow.”
I nodded. “I don’t know how things will go after tomorrow, you guys, but I’m done running away from the storm. This time, I’m going to go into it.”
And that was the truth.
You’ll never forget the first time! We’re approaching the final ten chapters of ” Ry’Mir’s Dive (book one of “The Aqua Men of Harvick University” series),” available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! This marks the start of the grand-finale extravaganza. Don’t miss it!
And Coming January 2027… Dioncel’s Story is Told! “Dioncel’s Winter” is Book Two of the Series.
#DioncelSWinter #RyMirSDive #TheAquaMenOfHarvickUniversity #AmPlanning #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ComingSoon #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #DailyGrind #DramaTuesdays #EveningCheckIn #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FullLengthChapterPreview #GrandFinaleWeek #InTheKnow #LastWeekOfTheMonth #LGBTQFiction #NewProjectComingSoon #PersonalBlog #PlansForNextYear #PlansForTheFuture #SneakPreviews #SpecialAnnouncement #SpecialBlogPost #SpecialWeekOfUpdates #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions -
Sentynel’s and Twelve’s Top Ten(ish) of 2025 By Steel Druhm
Sentynel
It’s been a couple of years since I had to start my AotY thoughts with “oof, what a year,” but oof, what a year. One thing after another piled up for months on end. I had some early success, actually writing reviews, but that left me almost no time to consume any other new music. A slowly escalating personal crisis then led to my neither writing nor consuming any new music for months. I began to fear that I genuinely wouldn’t be able to listen to enough to assemble a list—or that the server would implode at an inopportune time and I’d struggle to fix it. Fortunately, I was able to stay on top of server wobbles, despite the best efforts of endless AI scraper bots.1 A couple of months ago, I started managing new music again, and thus, a list emerged. I am moderately optimistic for 2026, at least on a personal level. (I offer no such optimism for the general state of the world.)
While this hasn’t been a particularly strong year for me, it’s hard to tell if that’s the year’s fault or just mine. My most common gripe has been unevenness: there have been a lot of records—including some I’ve ultimately loved—that have annoyed me through failing to sustain their heights throughout. Nonetheless, everything on my list belongs there. This year’s primary theme appears to be Angry Cello Guy, with a suspicious five entries on my list prominently featuring cellos or other bowed string instruments. Guitars are so 2024. There are multiple records here that are genre-hopping, experimental, and hard to classify. Otherwise, this is a pretty typical year for me, with post-metal heavily represented, several prog-adjacent pieces, and no surprisingly brvtal contenders, despite trying a few. Ah, well, next year.
My year has also kept me from getting to know this year’s intake of new writers as well as I’d like, but I’m sure they’re all lovely people with only somewhat questionable taste. To the brave crew of editors and promo jockeys, you have my thanks for your endless work; to the retiring veterans, please enjoy your sabbaticals without incident; and to the readers, long may you continue resisting the urge to let AI summarise our writing.
#ish. Scardust // Souls – Souls took a lot longer to grow on me than Strangers, and it’s more uneven than its predecessor. But the highs are fabulous. Noa Gruman is still preternaturally good on vocals. If the whole record were as good as the “Touch of Life” suite with her and Ross Jennings, this would be, no exaggeration, #1. Alas, while there are a couple of other bangers (“Unreachable”), much of the rest of Souls just doesn’t impress me, in that awkward sort of way you get when it’s really good and it feels unfair to moan about it too much, but you know they can do so much better.
#10. Jo Quail // Notan – Quail remains one of the most mesmerising live acts I’ve ever seen. Between the strength of her modern classical compositions and the frankly magical way she weaves them together live, armed with only a cello and a loop pedal, her shows are a must-see event. Fittingly, I saw Notan performed live before I heard the recording, but it’s worth it in recorded form too. The nature of loop pedal based composition lends itself to the sort of slow build that makes for really good post-rock/metal. Each piece goes in a pleasingly different direction and experiments with different additions to her sound palette. That she can do them live solo as well is merely the icing on the cake.
#9. Mares of Thrace // The Loss – I wrote most of a review for this album at release,2 but never quite got it over the line. I found it so raw it was hard to listen to. As my difficult period got worse, I just gave up on being able to listen to it at all, and with it any hope of finishing even a woefully late review. Where The Exile was immediately catchy and driving, The Loss’s immediacy is its anguish, and that was all I could hear. Mares of Thrace are already hard to genre pigeonhole, and The Loss is all over the place, spanning sludge, noise, prog, and doom, with trad inflections. I’m actually glad I didn’t manage to get the review done at the time. Coming back to it for list season, I appreciate it a lot more easily than I did at the time. The catchiness and driving energy are still there, but the additional stylistic variety makes it more interesting. The anguish adds weight and impact. The catharsis of the final track is well earned. It’s still a hard listen, but it’s a rewarding one. Who knows, maybe I’ll even get a TYMHM out!3
#8. Black Narcissus // There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten – This is just gorgeous. The best post-rock does an awful lot with very little, and Black Narcissus’ unhurried drums and bass do an absolutely astonishing amount. There’s no way something so minimalist and so languid should be able to sustain an hour of music. I cannot emphasise enough how absolutely beautiful There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten is, and its hour-long runtime just floats by. This is the epitome of “do one thing and do it well” as a philosophy.
#7. Fallujah // Xenotaph – Fallujah are a long time big name I had begun to appreciate more in the last couple of years, after seeing them live. They still hadn’t really clicked for me recorded, but Xenotaph changed that. Tech death’s curse is sterility, and the warmth of this record lifts Fallujah out of that trap. It’s, paradoxically, at once dreamy and bluntly impactful. The writing is as strong on melody as it is on technicality. It seems slightly redundant to say this about a record that’s on my year-end list, but I really enjoy the immediate experience of listening to Xenotaph. There’s something intensely satisfying about the smoothness: who says heavy music has to be abrasive? The production is still a sticking point, though.
#6. Concrete Age // Awaken the Gods – Awaken the Gods is just a lot of fun. There’s not enough metal drawing on the instruments and composition of folk music from the Caucasus and the steppes. It reminds me a lot of Mongol, but with better and more varied folk instrumentation. There’s a couple of songs that are a bit more straight thrash with folk instruments, which are less exciting, but it doesn’t detract from the rest of the record. It also delivers further proof of my theory that folk metal covers of terrible pop songs are the pinnacle of music. My go-to for when I wanted something to uncomplicatedly bang my head to.
#5. Calva Louise // Edge of the Abyss – Calva Louise are what happens when somebody spots an “all of the above” button under “genre” on the band creation screen and their curiosity gets the better of them. They are what you get if you take the Diablo Swing Orchestra and remove their classical instruments and sense of restraint. Something this absurd could only ever have been terrific or terrible. Obviously, this is terrific. AMG called it wild, unpredictable, and addictive, and it certainly is. They sound like nothing else I’ve ever listened to, and manage to be dangerously catchy on top of it. This hit in the middle of my difficult period, and it was nearly the only thing I listened to for a month. A teeny sense of easing off the gas on the last few songs is the only weakness. Spectacular.
#4. Völur & Cares // Breathless Spirit – Odd, unsettling, pretty, experimental, captivating—Breathless Spirit is a weird album. Violin and viola occupy the sonic space where you’d typically find lead and rhythm guitars. The composition wanders through modern classical, atmoblack, noise, jazz, folk, doom, and more. Actually, the main textural comparison I would draw here is to Hierophant Violent, though Breathless Spirit is far less single-minded in direction. Many of the more ambient sections, and some of the clean vocals, remind me of the build-up stretches of that album, and likewise, there’s some similarity in the crushing crescendos. Just in case you thought you knew where this was going, the other comparisons I’m going to draw are to fellow Canadians The Night Watch and Thrawsunblat. Of everything on the list, this is the one at highest risk of me feeling like I placed it too low in a year’s time—I found it late and it could grow on me further. A truly fascinating record.
#3. Messa // The Spin – While I’ve been a fan of Messa since their first record and through all their stylistic exploration, The Spin really blew me away. Sara Bianchin sounds fantastic, and there’s a wonderful allure to the tone of the rest of the band. Others have commented on The Spin feeling a bit like a collection of songs rather than a cohesive record, which is probably true and probably kept this from the top spot… but the songs are so damn good it’s hard to care that much. I came back to this a few times, even during the worst few months of the year, and had half of it stuck in my head half the time. At one point, I spent several days unable to get the opening riff of the opening track out of my head, and it doesn’t get any less addictive from there. In the last couple of months, I’ve had to actively resist putting it on at times to make sure I give other, less immediate records enough listening time.
#2. Psychonaut // World Maker – Yeah, so I’m a sucker for the kind of atmospheric post/prog metal played by bands like The Ocean or Dvne. Here is this year’s winner in that space. I’ve wanted to like Psychonaut in the past more than I actually have, but World Maker finally clicked for me in a big way. It’s intricate, catchy, in places techy, in others psychedelic. The songs unfold in interesting ways, and listening to it feels like exploring. From the buildup of the opening track, I knew this would be exactly what I wanted in this sort of music. And as Ken wrote in his review, the more personal dimension to World Maker’s themes elevates it (with some similarities to Pelagial’s place as the best Ocean album). A record that rewards time and attention.
#1. Shepherds of Cassini // In Thrall to Heresy – In Thrall to Heresy’s victory here was not exactly inevitable when I reviewed it back in February, but it was certainly likely. The glorious return of a niche band I loved and thought lost? It would have taken something spectacular to upset it. I listened to this all year, through the difficult period, and kept on loving it. For all that retro prog is a bit of an oxymoron, 00s-early 10s prog is one of my favorite eras of music. (There was a lot of rabbling in the comments about me not having explicitly compared them to Riverside and Tool, so to be explicit, if you liked Riverside through to SoNGS, you’ll like this. They’re far less pretentious than Tool.) In Thrall is a fresh enough take to feel like progression, not a throwback. Its violin leads add variety (as well as claiming the Angry Cello Guy crown for the year). Shepherds’ songwriting has matured in the last decade. Their instruments sound pleasingly chunky. A post-y twist presses additional musical buttons for me. One could only make this more laser-targeted at my specific musical niche by somehow adding industrial bluegrass.4 Don’t make me wait 10 years for the next record, please.
Honorable Mentions:
- 1914 // Viribus Unitis – Brutal and moving, this is some really good blackened death/doom. It’s not as good as Die Urkatastrophe, though—sorry, 1914 fans.
- Aephanemer // Utopie – The spectre of AMG’s law of diminishing recordings begins to haunt Aephanemer, for what is Utopie if not Aephanemer sounding like Aephanemer? It’s damn good, though.
- Ellereve // Umbra – Sad-girl post-metal? Yes please.
- Howling Giant // Crucible & Ruin – Just some really good stoner/psych.
- Net-Ruiner // Prototype – The synthwave/metal cross ends up being a little too much of a gimmick to land a proper list spot, but nonetheless an absolute blast.
- Raphael Weinroth-Browne // Lifeblood – I know I made an Angry Cello Guy joke up there, but it turns out you can, in fact, have too much cello. Weinroth-Browne’s multi-layered modern classical composition (in both senses) of cellos is always impressive and regularly emotive. Had Lifeblood been edited down to keep, say, the best 40 minutes of its current 60, this would have been up there in my list somewhere. Alas.
- Various Artists // KPop Demon Hunters – Relegated to HMs because this isn’t an album I like so much as it’s an album containing six songs I absolutely adore, and six others, but fuck me, the main cast songs (less “Soda Pop”) are bangers.
Songs o’ the Year:
- Calva Louise – “Impeccable”
- Concrete Age – “Boro Boro”
- Howling Giant – “Scepter and Scythe”
- HUNTR/X – “Golden”
- HUNTR/X – “Takedown”
- HUNTR/X – “What It Sounds Like”
- Messa – “Fire on the Roof”
- Saja Boys – “Your Idol”
- Scardust – “Touch of Life” suite
- Shepherds of Cassini – “Abyss”
- Tiktaalika – “Fault Lines:
Twelve
I am so behind on writing this. Behind on writing in general, really, but I’m writing this introduction very late by Angry Metal Standards®.5 Over the year, my writing for this blog waned notably, but I’m still very proud of my output this year, and discovered some delightful gems thanks to this blog and my privileged position to write for it. As is traditional, I want to extend my sincere thanks to my co-writers for their fantastic camaraderie and to the editors who allow me to keep writing here, probably against their better judgment. Everything changes all the time, but feeling right at home here stays the same.
Last year I claimed that, by any measure, 2024 was the worst year of my life, and I’m happy to say that remains true this year. Interestingly, however, I listened to much less music, and, more to the point, liked less music. In the past few months, I’ve been asking my co-writers here to recommend the music they think will top their own lists, and I just… kept not liking them. For some reason, almost nothing has been sticking musically. That’s not a comment on my colleagues’ tastes, of course—the writers here have an astounding talent for finding some of the best music there is. But I’ve been struggling to keep up.
So this year, I’m keeping things simple and writing about the twelve albums I liked best in 2025. Occasionally, when we talk about our end-of-year listings, there’s an idea that some albums need to be of a certain quality to be “worthy” of a top-ten (or top-top) spot, but if I start thinking that way, this list is never going to materialize. So I’ve gone with my gut and am now going to talk your ear off about the music I personally liked the most.
All of which is to say, I think my list is weird this year. I did my best! And I’m happy with it. But it’s weird.
Thanks for reading my nonsense in 2025—it really does mean a lot. Let’s all do it again next year!
#ish. Dawnwalker // The Between – A single-song album is such an ambitious undertaking, and I really can’t express enough how impressive it is that “The Between” feels like an actual half-hour song. Dawnwalker is so impressive on The Between, and the composition is truly a work of art. It’s grown on me since I reviewed it in October, and I just have to highlight the amazing songwriting from Mark Norgate and Dawnwalker before I dive into my list proper.
#10. Calva Louise // Edge of the Abyss – Let the weird begin! Edge of the Abyss is not something I thought for a second would make this list when Angry Metal Guy wrote about it, but it’s wormed its way into my head and heart. Deceptively catchy, a lot cleverer than it first appears, and filled to the brim with energy, Edge of the Abyss is a fun, memorable, and surprisingly relatable slice of… some kind of metal. I really don’t know how to categorize it, and I’m not sure how to get it out of my head either. Great album.
#9. Nechochwen // Spelewithiipi – Continuing with what may be another unusual pick, Nechochwen’s Spelewithiipi is not something I considered for this list straightaway. I have to admit, though, it has been a comforting listen that I’ve returned to often over the course of the year. It is well-composed, deceptively complex, and easy to spin again and again. On days I’ve felt low, there’s been a magic in Spelewithiipi that does wonders in keeping me well.
# 8. Völur & Cares //Breathless Spirit – Breathless Spirit is such an impressive album. For one thing, you’d never, ever guess there isn’t a lead guitar, despite the fact that Bates’s violin is a significant part of Völur’s unique character and spirit. As doom metal, Breathless Spirit dominates; it is powerful, mournful, wry, and cathartic. It’s a truly fascinating display of music, one that reveals new character every time you listen.
#7. Falling Leaves // The Silence That Binds Us – Speaking of doom metal, The Silence That Binds Us tells us that sometimes taking a break can be a good thing. It’s been thirteen years since Falling Leaves released their debut, and their sophomore feels like it had been simmering for a while. Expert compositions, passionate performances, and a huge atmosphere contribute to what I thought was “the” doom metal release of the year. There is so much care and attention in The Silence That Binds Us, so much feeling from every player, so much love in the production and master—even the cover art is gorgeous.
#6. Raphael Weinroth-Browne // Lifeblood – I didn’t expect Lifeblood to creep its way up here the way it has, but I’ve been listening to it more and more lately and realized I actually like it a lot more than a lot of other stuff. Raphael Weinroth-Browne’s compositions are stunning, and the more you listen to them, the better they get. For an instrumental, non-metal project, Lifeblood conveys so much meaning, so much emotion, and feels heavy for what it is. It’s a powerful work and a lovely one too—exactly what we’ve come to expect from as talented a cellist and composer as Weinroth-Browne.
#5. Aephanemer // Utopie – The direction Aephanemer’s music has taken since they first appeared on this blog with Prokopton is fascinating. Each release since has been a touch less aggressive and notably broader in terms of its composition and ambition. Utopie, I feel, balances these nuances the best—it’s an epic, sprawling album that reaches high and grasps onto something exciting. There is a level of care and attention to detail to Utopie that rewards repeat listens, and I still feel like I’m getting more and more into it as I listen. Who knows, maybe I’ll regret this “low” placement before long; this one’s a grower.
#4. Amorphis // Borderlands – Amorphis don’t need much introduction at this point, but lately I haven’t been very invested in their releases. It can be tough, I imagine, being such an iconic band with such a recognizable sound. But Borderlands feels fresh to me; an old formula done right, modernized reasonably enough to stand out, and with the gusto of a much newer band. Incidentally, this was also the first CD I’ve purchased in years—an impromptu grab at a record store I’d forgotten existed—and the bonus tracks therein are amazing additions (“Rowan and the Cloud” is a delightful closer, more so, I would argue, than “Despair”). It’s nice to be enamored by Amorphis again. They seem to still know what they’re doing.
#3. Saor // Amidst the Ruins – I’ve slept on Saor in the past, but Amidst the Ruins is an amazing album. Rarely is black metal—atmospheric black metal, no less—so impassioned, but I’ve never wanted to visit Scotland so much as the first time I heard “Rebirth” at the end of my first listen. It’s hard to quantify what makes Amidst the Ruins such a special record, really. The blend of black metal and folk metal isn’t new, nor is the style in which Marshall writes so well. But listening to Saor, you can’t help but feel his pride and awe for a homeland you may never have seen yourself. Amidst the Ruins crept its way into my rotations again and again throughout the year, and it’s been the most pleasant musical surprise of 2025 for me by far.
#2. Apocalypse Orchestra // A Plague Upon Thee – I really thought I’d give Apocalypse Orchestra my top spot, but admittedly, I thought that before I’d even heard it. The way these guys blend medieval themes with folk, doom, and metal is genuinely fascinating and incredibly well done. Add to the list that they perform thorough research and the music is educational on top of it all—what’s not to love? A Plague Upon Thee was my most-anticipated album of the year, and Apocalypse Orchestra really delivered, with sweeping epics telling takes of historic darkness and endearing humanity. Everything from the bagpipes to the choirs sounds amazing, and while I did have a couple of reservations initially, the simple truth is that this music is so well up my alley—and is performed so well too—that I was always bound to love it enough for this list. I can only hope to uncover more music as wonderfully niche as this again.
#1. 1914 // Viribus Unitis – I have not listened to every item of music released in 2025, but I still think I can say that none could be more powerful than 1914’s Viribus Unitis. I listened to nothing heavier, nothing more memorable, and nothing so relevant as 1914’s story of a Ukrainian soldier caught up in the mania of the First World War. From battle-frenzied bloodlust to heartbreaking captivity, his story follows 1914’s relentless message of the horrors of war. In the past, I’ve praised 1914 for the honesty in their bleak outlook on their namesake war, and Viribus Unitis could not have done a better job in following that idea. The songs range from brutal to cathartic; every guest musician elevates their song, and the choir is a brilliant way to balance trademark heaviness with emotional impact. Viribus Unitis is the most impactful album I’ve listened to in a long, long time, and I admire every musician involved for their part in that. Viribus Unitis was my top album for 2025 the moment I finished the first spin.
Honorable Mention
- Marko Hietala // Roses from the Deep – I’ve looked back at my review of Roses from the Deep a couple of times since writing and wondered if my personal admiration for Hietala’s career made me over-excited to review it. Is it possible I rated it highly simply because it’s such a fascinating culmination of the career of a musician I like? Either way, I’m keeping to the course—this was a fun listen in a year where I didn’t find so many upbeat albums to enjoy, and I keep coming back to it in bits and pieces depending on my mood; it’s a diverse exploration, and you can tell everyone had a good fun creating it.
Song of the Year
This was a hard one. There are so many powerful, emotional songs littered throughout this list—especially on Viribus Unitis, where the passion is particularly raw. But in keeping with the theme of what I personally found most affecting, I just keep coming back to this little gem on Autumn Tears’s latest. “Martyrdom – Catharsis (Where Gods Go to Die)” has a strangely compelling quality that kept me coming back again and again since I first reviewed Crown of the Clairvoyant. The singing, choirs, organ—really, everything about the composition is mesmerizing. I don’t imagine a lot of people will have this one on their year-end playlists. It’s a niche, quiet little song, but it’s wormed its way into my heart and speaks strongly to how I’ve felt about 2025 in a way I can’t quite describe.
Crown of the Clairvoyant by Autumn Tears
#1914 #2025 #Aephanemer #Amorphis #ApocalypseOrchestra #BlackNarcissus #CalvaLouise #ConcreteAge #Dawnwalker #Ellereve #FallingLeaves #Fallujah #HowlingGiant #JoQuail #Lists #MaresOfThrace #MarkoHietala #Messa #Nechochwen #NetRuiner #Psychonaut #RaphaelWeinrothBrowne #Saor #Scardust #SentynelSAndTwelveSTopTenIshOf2025 #ShepherdsOfCassini #VölurCares -
Stuck in the Filter: September 2025’s Angry Misses
By Kenstrosity
At last, a burst of cool calms the blood after a brutal summer, and the leaves are turning. Which means I was able to recruit a bunch of grubby little leaf-lookers off the highway to serve as minions to my ever-needy Filter! With a temporarily replenished staff of fools who are unwittingly risking their lives for mere nuggets, I conduct with renewed vigor the search for quality finds.
Today, I bring you those finds, in all of their sparkly glory. WITNESS THEM!
Kenstrosity’s Jaunty Juke
Jordsjuk // Naglet til livet [September 19th, 2025 – Indie Recordings]
The lack of conversation I’ve seen surrounding this Norwegian black metal riff machine is highly disconcerting. Brought to my attention by my wonderfully wise—and devilshly handsome—owlpal1 from… GASP… another blog, Jordsjuk’s debut LP Naglet til livet has my spine whipping to a fro from the onset of ripping opener “Kollaps.” The whiplash doesn’t stop there as thrashy numbers “Grovt skadeverk” and “Skreddersøm” body me against several walls and even a couple of ceilings. For 36 relentless minutes, with only one song pushing the four minute mark, Naglet til livet is an unqualified triumph of editing and tight, effective songwriting. My immediate comparison is 2007-2013 Skeletonwitch, but some of these riffs, like the turbobangers on “Parasitt,” “Rottebitt,” “Klarhet og dybde,” and “Rennestein,” give those hallowed skellybois a serious run for their money. When they aren’t thrashing, Jordsjuk shift into a dour, but still ravenous black metal shadow. Wraiths like “Riv skorpen av såret” and “Svikter din neste” showcase this looming character quite well, and prove Jordsjuk to be dynamic, versatile songwriters. In short, Naglet til livet is a raucous good time for anyone craving black metal with sharp teeth and limitless energy.
Baguette’s Bouncy Blessing
Arjen Anthony Lucassen // Songs No One Will Hear [September 12th, 2025 – Inside Out Music]
A year without an Arjen record would be a much lesser one. It’s not often the crazy Dutchman reuses a non-Ayreon project title, but here we have his fourth solo album becoming the second under the full Arjen Anthony Lucassen name! Dropping 13 years after the previous one, Songs No One Will Hear announces the end of the world is a mere five months away, its tracks depicting the resulting stages of chaos, disarray, and human silliness. It doesn’t fall far off the catchy and melodic Arjen tree but casts a wider net than prior prog rock adventures. Much of the record reflects different eras of Ayreon, including the ’70s prog whimsy of Into the Electric Castle (“Dr. Slumber’s Blue Bus”) and the fun ’80s metal edge of The Source (“Goddamn Conspiracy”). Closing epic “Our Final Song” is a microcosm of his musical breadth, shapeshifting from Jethro Tull flute shenanigans to analog synth ambience to dramatic riff bombast at will. But it’s “The Clock Ticks Down” that steals the spotlight, marking a brief return to the dark, somber grit of Guilt Machine and 01011001. It’s an unusually normal-sized album from Mr. Lucassen as well, the regular, unnarrated version being only 46 minutes and change. A condensed, jovial jack-of-all-trades showcase with many of the usual great guest musician and vocalist selections! And it’s always nice to hear him sing more, too.
Thus Spoke’s Lurid Leftovers
Fauna // Ochre and Ash [September 26th, 2025 – Lupus Lounge/Prophecy Productions]
It’s been 13 years since Cascadian black metal duo Fauna released Avifauna, to quiet yet great acclaim. Given their preoccupation with human prehistory, they might just be operating on a larger timescale than you or I. Ochre and Ash—the two main ingredients used in ancient cave paintings—is an attempt to invoke the spirit of forgotten ceremonies during which the stories of the people were immortalised on stone. Building on an atmospheric black metal base familiar in their better-known exemplars Wolves in the Throne Room and Agalloch, Fauna give Ochre and Ash a distinctive edge by roaming further afield into the experimental. For every metal-dominated track (“Nature & Madness,” “Labyrinths,” “Eternal Return”), there is an ambient, decidedly unsettling counterpart (“A Conjuring,” “Femoral Sun,” “Mockery”), and the latter are not interludes, but integral parts of the ritual. Each infuses skin-prickling drone with eerie chimes and rattles, and uncomfortable vocalisations ranging from moans and wails to laughter and the howling, yipping cries of animals—or humans mimicking them. In their repetition of haunting, hollow sounds, they are both frightening and trance-inducing. Ochre and Ash’s metallic segments are no less ominous, treading as they do between confrontationally turbulent atmoblack2 and diSEMBOWELMENT-adjacent death doom that puts me right back in the void of madness last year’s Spectral Voice generated. This is not a casual listen, and Fauna could have helped it a bit with some editing, as the weirdness combined with an excessive 70-minute runtime makes some longer passages feel tired and could be off-putting to some. Still, it’s an experience I’d recommend trying at least once.
Spicie Forrest’s Sautéed Surplus
Piece // Rambler’s Axe [September 5th, 2025 – This Charming Man Records]
Finding gym metal has always proven difficult for me. It’s not about the fastest or loudest, but about striking a balance between weight and pace. Rambler’s Axe fits the bill nicely. Influenced by the likes of Crowbar and High on Fire, these Berlin-based doomsters peddle raucous and sludgy heavy metal. There’s a bit of Conan in Piece’s DNA, too, making sure to worship each riff long enough for you to make it through any given set. Beefy basslines and aggressive, chiseled drums make it easy to drop into a groove and get your pump on. Faster cuts like “Demigod” and “Rambler’s Axe” go great with chest flies and leg press, but they’ve got tracks for bench press and deadlifts too. “Bastard Sword” and “Owl Eyes” rumble forward like the slow but inevitable rise of the barbell at max weight. Whether marching or running, baritone shouts like tank treads hang over riffs just looking for an excuse to blow off steam. Whatever your reason for visiting the glorious house of gains, Piece has your soundtrack covered.
Heruvim // Mercator [September 12th, 2025 – Self-Release]
As each passing year leaves the almighty Bolt Thrower further in the past, the yearning for that sound grows. I was quite surprised to find a small amount of solace in Heruvim, hailing from Odesa, Ukraine. I say small solace, because debut LP Mercator is more than just a clone. Augmented with the unsettling atmosphere of early Pestilence and the vocal malevolence of Sinister, this platter of old school death metal carves its own niche in a storied scene. Off-kilter leads bubble up and spew out of a murky, tarred rhythm section like prehistoric gases in a primordial soup (“Gnosis,” “Lacrimae Rerum”). Lachrymose, doom-laden passages and violent death threats trade back and forth, anchored by volatile blast beats and percussive assaults in the vein of Cannibal Corpse (“Nulla Res,” “Mercator”). Stitched together with eerie, short-and-sweet interludes, Mercator’s lean 30 minutes fly by and always leave me itching for more. Heruvim riffs on a slew of classic sounds, creating a casual brutality and primal barbarism that is both compelling and uniquely their own.
ClarkKent’s Melodic Monstrosities
Galundo Tenvulance // Insomnis Somnia [September 17th, 2025 – Spiritual Beast Records]
Falling somewhere between symphonic deathcore acts Assemble the Chariots and Grimnis enters Japan’s Galundo Tenvulance. On their second full-length LP, Insomnis Somnia, the sextet demonstrates raw power and frenetic energy throughout its 41-minute runtime. Songs are anchored by catchy melodic leads, atmospheric symphonies, and punishing, relentless kitwork (no drummer is credited, so hopefully it’s not programmed). Galundo Tenvulance’s new vocalist, Sao, delivers the goods, bringing a spirited energy to her performance that elevates the already terrific material. While the symphonics don’t quite elevate the music the same way they do for Assemble the Chariots, it’s the melodic riffs that make these guys stand out. “Noble Rot” is the highlight, with a killer lead riff that uses harmonics to add just that extra bit of oomph. Other highlights include the catchy “Regret Never Sleeps,” evoking Character-era Dark Tranquillity, and “In The Realms of the Unreal,” which demonstrates their ability to transform solos into surprising melodies. This might be too good to have landed in the filter, but with my TYMHM slots filled up, it’s better than nothing.
Mortal Scepter // Ethereal Dominance [September 9th, 2025 – Xtreem Music]
As if we didn’t have enough thrash floating in the filter, French outfit Mortal Scepter finds itself as yet another piece of thrash dredged from the muck. This quartet has been around since 2012, yet Ethereal Dominance is only their second full-length release. Their sound lands somewhere between the melodic thrash of Bloodletter and the mania of Deathhammer—though a touch less zany. The persistent level of energy these bands can maintain never ceases to amaze me. While the constant beat of drum blasts threatens to make thrash songs sound too similar, the variety of melodies Mortal Scepter delivers ensures that things never grow repetitive. They have a raw, blackened sound that feels immediate and in your face. Drummer Guillaume keeps an impressive pace with fresh-sounding, nonstop blast beats, while vocalist Lucas Scellier snarls with enthusiasm, with a voice comparable to Deathhammer’s Sergeant Salsten. However, it’s the guitars by Maxime and Scellier that really bring the band to life, from the noodly melodies to the dynamic, lengthy, and impressive solos on each song. These guys prove they are more than just simple thrash metallers on the epic thrash, ten-minute finale, “Into the Wolves Den,” which uses a mix of tempo shifts and hooky melodies to make the song just fly by. With this second LP under their belts, these guys have proven themselves an exciting newish band on the thrash scene.
Grin Reaper’s Woodland Windfall
Autrest // Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves [September 5th, 2025 – Northern Silence Productions]
Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves merges atmospheric black metal with nature, resuming Autrest’s vision from debut Follow the Cold Path. Like Saor or Falls of Rauros, stunning melodies play across untamed backdrops that stir heartstrings in unexpected ways. Ethereal keys, mournful strings, and rapid-fire tremolos impeccably capture Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves’ autumnal artwork, bringing Autrest’s imagery to life. Harsh vocals sit back in the mix, evoking windswept trees as cool harvest gusts leach branches of color, while sporadic baritone cleans add variation. “Lobos (Offering)” sets the stage with melancholic guitar plucks bolstered by forlorn strings, giving way to a controlled spark as “Ashes from the Burning Embers” ratchets up roiling vigor. Through forty-two minutes, Autrest expertly guides listeners across shifting landscapes that are delightful in their earnestness. Mastermind Matheus Vidor establishes himself as a preeminent architect of mood, channeling transitions from gentle, wonder-filled serenity to unyielding wrath. The dynamic between aggression and introspection is marvelous, permeating the album with emotion. While I could understand a complaint that some songs blur together, the spirit of Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves is never stale or disposable. Rather, Autrest has taken what began two years ago and enriched it, composing an ode to self-discovery and transformation.3 My own experience with the music conjures wilderness’s last hurrah before succumbing to winter’s embrace. As days grow shorter and temperatures drop,4 I encourage you to seek refuge and draw warmth from these Burning Embers.
Dolphin Whisperer’s Very Not Late Novella
Sterveling // Sterveling [September 26th, 2025 – Self Release]
Between the world of atmospheric and post-tinged black metal, there exists a twisted form of progressive music that teeters about brooding moods and crackling tones to explore shrieking sadness and profound sorrow. Michiel van der Werff (Prospectors, Weltschmerz), primary Dutch proprietor of Sterveling, places his expressive guitar runs and lurching rhythm clangs in the company of trusted friends to carry out his tortured, baroque vision of black metal. Against the hissing design of synth maestro and Prospectors bandmate Matthias Ruijgrok, a fullness and warping warmth pervades the spacious amp textures and muscular rhythmic framework of each piece. And through the bloodied cries of Weltschmerz bandmate Hreim, a vocal lightning flashes to illuminate the nooks between pulsing synth lines and deathly bursts of full tremolo assault. In three longform pieces, all still totaling a generous forty-two minutes, Sterveling tints a monochrome narrative with vibrant shades from thoughtful tones and well-timed, emotional escalations. Committed to each careful iteration on a melody, the woven Sterveling web grows ever stickier with every passing moment, none of the ten-minute-plus excursions ever feeling even close to their declared runtimes. And with a sound construction that hits delicate yet forceful, creaking yet incising, it’s easy to wander through several journeys on this debut outing before realizing what time has passed. Fans of equally forlorn acts like Tongues or Andalvald will feel more at home here than others. But with a tonal palette that’s as inviting as it is crushing, Sterveling should attract the ears of fans across the extreme spectrum.
#2025 #agalloch #americanMetal #andavald #arjenAnthonyLucassen #assembleTheChariots #atmosphericBlackMetal #autrest #ayreon #blackMetal #bloodletter #boltThrower #brazillianMetal #burningEmbersForgottenWolves #cannibalCorpse #conan #crowbar #darkTranquillity #deathDoom #deathMetal #deathcore #deathhammer #disembowelment #doomMetal #dutchMetal #etherealDominance #fallsOfRauros #fauna #frenchMetal #galundoTenvulance #grimnis #guiltMachine #heruvim #highOnFire #independentRelease #indieRecordings #insideoutMusic #insomnisSomnia #japaneseMetal #jethroTull #jordsjuk #lupusLounge #melodicBlackMetal #melodicDeathMetal #melodicThrashMetal #mercator #mortalScepter #nagletTilLivet #northernSilenceProductions #norwegianMetal #ochreAndAsh #pestilence #piece #postBlackMetal #progressiveBlackMetal #progressiveMetal #progressiveRock #prophecyProductions #ramblersAxe #review #reviews #saor #selfRelease #selfReleased #sep25 #sinister #skeletonwitch #sludge #sludgeMetal #songsNoOneWillHear #spectralVoice #sterveling #stuckInTheFilter #stuckInTheFilter2025 #symphonicDeathcore #thisCharmingManRecords #thrashMetal #tongues #ukrainianMetal #wolvesInTheThroneRoom
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El Cuervo’s, GardensTale’s, and Eldritch Elitist’s Top Ten(ish) of 2024
By El Cuervo
El Cuervo
After more than a decade in this job, the years start to blur. While there may be an almost imperceptible feeling that some years are musically stronger than others, I’ve started to reach the realization that they’re all basically the same. 99% of heavy metal spawned into the world is destined to be forgotten or disparaged.
That’s not to say I’m bored of this state of affairs. The metal community, and in particular its underground, remains in a robust position to peddle the best non-mainstream music in the world, boasting a wide array of sub-genres from all over the globe. Just look at my list below: nine of the selections are from the atypical regions of Northern Europe and North America, hitherto unknown for their metal output.
Nonetheless, it’s the year-to-year consistency that highlights the importance of gathering our thoughts at annual intervals to assemble a list of real quality. This process reminds me why I still spend hundreds of hours each year consuming and reviewing new music. These stand-outs justify my decision and I deeply enjoy commemorating them in this ranking extravaganza. Revel in the albums that most excited me in 2024.
#10. A Burial at Sea // Close to Home – As much as music may impress you with its technical chops or hook you with its bold melodies, it’s music that makes you feel something that endures. The idiosyncratic brand of post-rock heard on Close to Home, dipping into brassy jazz and techy math rock as much as it does shoegaze, always prioritizes its emotive impact above all else. I love the gentle lilt, the crashing apices, the shimmering walls of noise, the orchestral edges. A Burial at Sea ebbs with slow rhythms and delicate chords, but flows with heavy drums and tremolo-picked melodies. The natural cadence across tracks makes the album feel complete. Each year yields one or two ‘mood’ releases for me to savor in a dark room with my headphones and my thoughts; 2024’s is Close to Home.
#9. Kanonenfieber // Die Urkatastrophe – As much as I initially enjoyed Die Urkatastrophe as a studio album, it took the Kanonenfieber live experience to really get its hooks into me. This isn’t just blackened death metal. It’s theatrical, energetic, and catchy, without devolving into something as simple as ‘meloblack’. The shout-along choruses and grooving leads were accentuated in a live setting, and I was incentivized to dig back through the Kanonenfieber back catalog. But the gig wouldn’t have been as entertaining as it was without the underlying music being of high quality. I’ve been to plenty of shows which have encouraged me to revisit an artist – but where the studio release is far less potent. Die Urkatastrophe has the chops and power to excel in both formats.
#8. Aquilus// Bellum II – Lots of black metal adopts the adjective of ‘atmospheric’ but few come as close to this as Aquilus. Horace Rosenqvist forges music that harmonizes but transcends classical and black metal, beguiling and terrifying in equal measure. Bellum II may be marginally the lesser of Bellum I, but it’s still among the best music released this year. Its compositions are extraordinary, as they subtly and satisfyingly transition from delicate piano and strings to towering black metal blasts. This is the prime example of the album’s devastating dichotomies that I previously described (“elegance and savagery; serenity and chaos; airiness and crunch”). Rosenqvist is a singularly mesmerizing instrumentalist and composer, able to pull contrasting music into a brutal but beautiful whole.
#7. Hamferð // Men Guðs hond er sterk – It’s hard to conceive of a more metal homeland than the Faroe Islands. Cold? Dark? Remote? Check, check, check. This results in Hamferð’s frigid, towering block of death-inflected doom metal that owes as much to its isolated island roots as it does to any other metal band. Men Guðs hond er sterk is a crushingly heavy album, but one gilded with a hopeful edge derived from its concept wherein a survivor of a whaling accident emphasizes the miracle of his life. While prioritizing the sheer weight of mass and exquisitely despondent leads, the album also benefits from one of metal’s most talented vocalists in Jón Aldará, who runs the gamut from bellowing growls to melancholic croons. Though it runs out of steam by the gentle acoustic conclusion, the preceding thirty-nine minutes are monumental.
#6. Blood Incantation // Absolute Elsewhere – Blood Incantation is plainly an excellent band. But I’m struggling to explain why Absolute Elsewhere became the underground cross-over metal album of the year, favored by big and small publications alike. Perhaps it’s the savage but technical riffs that make you mosh and think simultaneously. Perhaps it’s the Floydian approach to song structures. Perhaps it’s the penchant for meandering, Tangerine Dreamy interludes. Perhaps it’s the sophisticated fusion of something heavy so listeners feel edgy, with something chill so listeners feel safe. Perhaps it’s the conspiratorial orientation around our alien overlords building the pyramids. Perhaps it’s all of these and more. Hmm. On reflection, I think I do understand why everyone loves Absolute Elsewhere as much as they do.
#5. Crypt Sermon // The Stygian Rose – We all know that doom is the worst core metal sub-genre. To my abject horror, 2024 saw not one but two excellent examples of it. Crypt Sermon stormed the top five of my list, folding excellent leads and engaging solos into some of the most captivating metal of the year. While the front half is good, it’s the back half where things hit another level. “Heavy Is the Crown of Bone” until the title track exemplifies the best of the sub-genre through their epic proportions, memorable melodies and fat, crunchy guitar tones. While the riffs have immediate impact, the detailed compositions give the songs real staying power. Layers of guitars, a tempo that eschews dirge speeds, varied vocals and progressive song constructions march the album to a conclusion that comes too quickly.
#4. Syst3m Glitch // The Brave Ones – The remainder of this list documents my love for heavy metal and all things progressive. But synthwave is the third pillar of my music library and the most joyous. The best of the year comes from Florida’s Syst3m Glitch. He’s not always been my first pick for synths, but The Brave Ones dramatically outperformed his prior output and muscled its way into my favorite albums from 2024. It’s stuffed full of catchy, memorable tunes that traverse the synthwave soundscape, from the pop-laced sweetness of “California,” to the pulsing rhythms of “Thrill Ride,” to the darksynth pastiche of “Tommy Danger,” and finally to the smooth retrowave of “Raining in Tokyo.” It’s rare for one release to cover this much territory, and rarer still that it’s so successful in doing so.
#3. Dissimulator // Lower Form Resistance – February is early in the year but I knew then that Lower Form Resistance would be high on my list. Dissimulator inherits death metal traits from the members’ other bands (including Beyond Creation and First Fragment) but builds these into uber-tight, technical thrash metal. The excellence of the riffs here is fucking relentlessness; no other 2024 release can boast such a fine repertoire. From the ridiculously good “Neural Hack” until the closer, the album generates such entertainment value that it feels half as long as it is. The exemplary instrumentation, chaotic energy and technological feel make Lower Form Resistance sound like Voivod reinvented for the 2020s. In a sub-genre so preoccupied with rehashing old ideas – I do not accept that thrash metal must sound like 1986 – Dissimulator thrives by looking forward.
#2. In Vain // Solemn – It’s no secret that I’m a prog nerd. While In Vain has always been plenty progressive through varied and unpredictable songwriting, what I envy most is the knack for incorporating myriad styles into one cohesive sound. Solemn follows two prior records demarcated by their fusions of melodic death metal, black metal, progressive rock, and Nordic folk music. This fusion has never been more seamless than it is in 2024. The expansive songs feel like they should be extremely long and complex but in reality, they hardly exceed seven minutes and utilize powerful melodic anchors. As if all this wasn’t enough, the quintessential In Vain guitar and vocal harmonies, and orchestral pomp, elevate the songs into metal magic. Solemn is pure Cuervo catnip.
#1. Opeth // The Last Will and Testament – It feels like I’ve spent much of the last few months describing just how much I admire Opeth. This year-end list is no exception as I properly rank The Last Will and Testament as 2024’s best release. With the Opeth ranking articles so recent, I think it would fall into the upper half of their work. In a discography littered with records revered by both metalheads and prog nerds, this demarcates a record of rare quality. Though – yes – Åkerfeldt returns to growled vocals here, this is just a small piece of what makes The Last Will and Testament so good. From the sophisticated compositions to the entertaining story, and the exemplary instrumentation to the immaculate production, its knotty harmonization of death metal with progressive rock has the aura of perfection. No other record from 2024 can make such a claim.
Honorable Mentions
- Beardfish // Songs for Beating Hearts – The unheralded return of these Swedes yields a shockingly vital slice of prog rock, boasting tidy riffs, folksy warmth, and engaging song-writing.
- At 1980 // Forget to Remember – While predictable, At 1980 remains an interminably satisfying retrowave artist through their smooth synths, melodic guitar solos, and easy vocals.
- Morgul Blade // Heavy Metal Wraiths – Morgul Blade forms a destructive harmony between three of my favorite things: razor-sharp classic metal leads, harsh vocal,s and Tolkien nerdery.
- Kalax // Lost – While bloated and meandering – lost, perhaps – the return of Liverpool’s premier retro synth act finds a delicate dichotomy between frigidity and comfort.
Songs o’ the Year
- Unto Others – “Never, Neverland”
- Syst3m Glitch – “Raining in Tokyo”
- Iotunn – “Iridescent Way”
- Opeth – “A Story Never Told”
- Lebrock – “Goliath”
- At 1980 – “Your Secret”
- Nestor – “Caroline”
- Crypt Sermon – “The Stygian Rose”
- Dissimulator – “Neural Hack”
- Winterun – “Silver Leaves”
GardensTale
Fucking hell, what a year. Ordinarily, I’d try and wax poetically on the passing of time or some shit here. Looking back with melancholy and whatnot seems to be the intention for opening paragraphs to arbitrary lists of what music this one rando that I happen to be got the most enjoyment from this year. But I think this time, I’ll try some brutal honesty instead. It’s not been a great year overall. I won’t bore you with a tedious list, numbering my shades of the various common mental issues people my age and disposition face, but suffice it to say I’ve closed out most prior years in better spirits. But I’m getting help, I’m fighting it, and I’m learning. Learning to give myself grace, to step back when I need to. And if that sometimes means slowing down on a review, well, it’s a small price to pay.
One consequence is that I have spent less time listening to music I wasn’t reviewing. That shows below because this list will look like the most self-congratulatory thing I ever wrote. The vast majority of entries I penned myself, be it as a full article, a TYMHM or even a filter entry. But the funny part is, I thought it was a really strong year! I had quite a sizeable shortlist to whittle down. But then I was done whittling and discovered I’d almost exclusively cut albums I did not review, like APES, Crypt Sermon and Hamferð for instance. Additionally, I find I’ve added less to the list in the second half of the year, and my sullied brain has questioned myself many times: was autumn weaker than usual, or is my growing ennui obstructing my ability to like things as much as they deserve?
I don’t know, to tell the truth. And I’m unlikely to find out, because time marches on and new releases darken the horizon of January even now. There are only so many hours in the day, so much music hitting the virtual marketplaces and streaming colossi. To give each year its proper due would take 5 years, or having no job or other hobbies. So I can’t give you a fair, balanced and complete list of the best records of the year, because I do have a job and other hobbies, and no time machine. I can only give you the records that made me feel good. I hope they made or will make you feel good, too.
(ish). Dool // The Shape of Fluidity — I’ve been aware of Dool for a while now, even before vocalist Raven van Dorst became a national television personality. But it wasn’t until I caught “Venus in Flames” on the metal radio station in the car that I became interested in their music. The Shape of Fluidity crystallizes Van Dorst’s lifelong struggle with identity into a fierce, defiant, and intensely personal album. The androgynous vocals sizzle with raw emotion, and the instrumentation is likewise fluid in its presentation, swaying from almost post-punk energy to Anathema-adjacent prog and dipping into epic doom. An excellent album that really puts Dool on the map.
10. Alcest // Les Chants de l’Aurore — Here’s a fun fact: I always thought Souvenirs d’un Autre Monde wasn’t Alcest’s first album. It was the first album of theirs I heard, but since about 97 out of 100 bands that evolve their sound go softer rather than harder, I assumed there was something more extreme preceding it. Alcest tends to do things differently, though, changing things up rather radically from album to album. Les Chants de l’Aurore has elements from many of its older siblings, but the mood it sets is such a beautiful warm summer melancholy, it sets it apart in a very special way. And seeing it performed live a few weeks ago was a very special experience that seared the album in my mind.
9. Madder Mortem // Old Eyes, New Heart — No, I’ll never stop proselytizing Madder Mortem, why do you ask? Old Eyes, New Heart wasn’t what I expected, yet in many ways was just what I needed, and was strangely prophetic at times. It’s the most intensely personal album from the Norwegians (which is saying something) and through the healing power of shared misery, sitting down with it is like a good session with a therapist.
8. 40 Watt Sun // Little Weight — Patrick Walker could sing me The Cat In The Hat and I’d still feel like weeping. I’m not sure the man could earn anything below a 4.0 from me if he tried. That being said, Little Weight still takes a spot by the sunny window that 40 Watt Sun hasn’t explored before. Where Perfect Light and Wider Than the Sky were steeped in sadness, Little Weight expels it. It might be the most hopeful album I’ve heard this year, a return to the light from the deepest darkest places. It’s been a comforting hug on bad days, a warm blanket to fight the cold.
7. Walg // IV — The second year in a row I get to feature this duo. Walg is quickly becoming one of my favorite black metal bands. IV fits any mood, really. It’s got anger, it’s got despair, but it also has enough catchy tunes and energy for when you’re in a good mood. You can play the whole thing start to finish, and you can pick out your favorites and stick ‘em in a playlist. As such, it’s been this year’s ol’ reliable, the album to return to when nothing else sparks joy.
6. Kanonenfieber // Die Urkatastrophe — If I had a nickel for every time an acclaimed blackened death metal band exclusively used historically accurate World War I accounts and even performed in uniform, I’d have two nickels. It’s kind of difficult for me to mentally separate Kanonenfieber and 1914 for obvious reasons. Luckily there is space for both in the trenches because Noise’s project has become a mean Menschen mühling machine. “Der Maulwurf” grabbed me by the throat from the first spin, and everything else followed over and over again. Epic, bludgeoning and harrowing.
5. Labyrinthus Stellarum // Vortex of the Worlds — I can’t stop playing this album. It is stuck in my algorithm. The bleeps and bloops that summon Hastur from the depths of space and time live in my head and they do not pay rent. How did two kids1 from a war-torn country manage this? Labyrinthus Stellarum is so goddamn good at composing addictive melodies in 4 dimensions it should be considered unfair. The only reason it’s not higher is because at this point the competition becomes even more unfair.
4. Iotunn // Kinship — A lot of people told me in the comments that the closing track on Kinship is a great song and shouldn’t have affected my rating of the album as a whole. They are wrong on both counts. This is a shame because up to that point, this is the album of the year. Earning what amounts to a 4.495 despite a disappointing closer is an incredible feat, but the songwriting on the best couple of tracks here is simply unparalleled. “Mistland,” “The Coming End” and especially “Earth to Sky” are just massive in a way few bands ever achieve, and Iotunn make it seem effortless.
3. Vredehammer // God Slayer — One improvement to my life is that I am returning semi-regularly to the gym these days. I’ve struggled with working out consistently, but I can usually get a session a week in these days. And my number one companion for these outings has been God Slayer. The bridge in the title track alone gives me enough energy to break whatever personal record I’ll be working on at the time. Just looking at the album art gives me an extra pound of gains for the week.
2. Meer // Wheels Within Wheels — Yeah, it’s not really metal, but it’s proggy and it’s fucking gorgeous so up yours, elitists! I’ve come to the opinion that Norway is simply the best country for prog in general, and Meer is just another notch in that belt. Whereas Playing House didn’t really grab me at the time, I couldn’t stop spinning Wheels Within Wheels. I had to start every day with “Come to Light” for a while, and the climax of that track is so uniquely empowering it’d help beat down whatever funk I found myself in at the time. The symphonic composition and multi-vocal approach are just beautiful and it truly does not get old. Meer has outdone itself.
1. Huntsmen // The Dry Land — I’ve had multiple comeback stories this year. Outside of metal, both Elbow and That Handsome Devil returned with fantastic albums after the last was simply disappointing. The biggest comeback and biggest surprise was, without a doubt, Huntsmen. Mandala of Fear was such a slog, I could never have expected the perfect tight flow of The Dry Land. Every track is a journey in and of itself, and the diversity is immense. The Dry Land has become one of those albums where I can’t put it on without finishing it entirely; I’ll just keep going ‘Oh yes the next song has these awesome mournful vocals’ or ‘Ah here comes that mindblowing transition.’ It’s been a great year for metal and music in general, but the way Huntsmen returned from the grave and far surpassed even their vaunted debut was the absolute peak for me, and it has not since been surpassed by any other release.
Honorable Mentions
- Sleepytime Gorilla Museum // of the Last Human Being — Considering how thrilled I was to get a new SGM album I expected this to wind up higher, but it’s still a great and unsettling resurrection for one of the true premier avant-garde collectives.
- Selbst // Despondency Chord Progressions — There’s been plenty of emotionally grabbing black metal of various sorts this year, but Selbst had the coolest take out of them all, with a melodic sense that felt almost trad metal without losing edge or impact.
- Monkey3 // Welcome to the Machine — Easily the best instrumental album of the year. Tasteful nods to Pink Floyd wrapped in a massive maelstrom of heavy psych that gets the balancing act of repetition and evolution precisely right.
- The Vision Bleak // Weird Tales — An even tighter and more cohesive album than its excellent predecessor. Weird Tales is like an amazing haunted house ride.
- Sidewinder // Talons — I really wanted to have this in the main list, because you don’t get stoner this great very often. Alas, the competition was too strong. But listen to it anyway if you haven’t!
Non-Metal Albums
This is a metal blog, despite our occasional forays into tangential material like Meer. But several of my favorite non-metal artists all released some excellent albums, and considering the year I’ve had and the state of the world, I’d rather end with some positivity for the open-minded among you, who are secure enough in their trveness to partake in some decidedly vntrve yet excellent releases.
- Man Man // Carrot on Strings — The quirky and rambunctious Zappa-in-the-Bayou outfit led by the enigmatic Honus Honus kills it with this eclectic and introspective release. Everything from pulsing club EDM to mellow country and various mixtures further off the musical maps, it’s a wild and engaging odyssey.
- That Handsome Devil // Exploitopia — After the disappointing Your Parents Are Sellouts, these weirdos blew off the barn doors with this comeback. Best described as alternative gypsy surf jazz rock hip-hop, Exploitopia gushes anti-consumerism and anti-capitalism with sardonic humor and biting sarcasm.
- Elbow // Audio Vertigo — The most commercially successful band on this list, but I still feel like many metalheads aren’t aware of how good these Brits are. And Audio Vertigo is one of their best albums to date: versatile, infectious, with a warm melancholy and wry camaraderie. Beautiful.
- Future Islands // People Who Aren’t There Anymore — A breakup album, filled with aching loneliness and longing, yet a strange sense of hope winds through the pulsing synth-pop. Frontman Samuel Herring is an absolute king of emotive, raspy crooning, and his performance brings a ton of personality to the album.
Songs o’ the Year
- Huntsmen – “Rain”
- Meer – “Come to Light”
- Iotunn – “Earth to Sky”
- Tom Cardy – “Transcendental Cha Cha Cha”
- Walg – “Als een Korrel Zand”
- Vredehammer – “God Slayer”
- Tribulation – “The Reaping Song”
- Madder Mortem – “Towers”
- Kanonenfieber – “Der Maulwurf”
- Iotunn – “The Coming End”
- Selbst – “Chant of Self Confrontation”
Eldritch Elitist
Huh. It’s apparently been four fucking years since I last penned a proper 2 Records o’ the Year list for Angry Metal Guy. This time last year, I wasn’t sure whether I’d be contributing such a list ever again. I still love this blog and the music we celebrate, but making regular contributions to AMG requires a not-insignificant time investment, and I’ve found myself spread ever-thinner over the years. And then January happened, in which a startling number of fantastic releases in that month alone resulted in the crystallization of a single goal: To make 2024 my most complete year of musical indulgence to date. If there was an album released that even slightly piqued my interest in a given week, I was going to find time to listen to it, ideally to completion. This resolve resulted in so many discoveries that I could have penned Top Ten Records o’ the Month articles for multiple months of 2024.
When I say “multiple months,” I really mean “January through March”, as my momentum dwindled when mid-April rolled around. Compounding factors between life and work suddenly left me with much less time in which to indulge in new music. Once I fell behind, I quickly realized that it would be virtually impossible to keep up the listening schedule I had set for myself, and subsequently gave up the ghost. As badly as I wanted to contribute the most confidently comprehensive year-end list possible, this list might as well be titled “Eldritch Elitist’s Top 10 Records o’ Q1 2024 & Friends”. Lopsided though it may be, that’s no excuse to not take a legitimate stab at a list at all, especially not when comments like this keep rolling in… Wait, why the hell has that guy been hanging around the AMG break room? Christ, I really need to work on staying in the loop around here. Anyway, here’s some albums I like; no -ishs, HMs, or butts about it.
#10. Cruce Signatus // Cruce Signatus – While Cruce Signatus sits at the bottom of my top 10, I have listened to it more than any other record this year outside of my number 1 pick. It’s become a go-to record to throw on thanks to its instrumental nature and soundtrack-like ebb and flow. More than that, Cruce Signatus’ unique blend of metal and synthwave is legitimately compelling, feeling distinct from similar acts as an actual soundtrack to an in-progress animation project. The downside is that this record feels partially complete because it literally is. The upside is that the experience of listening to this record will surely evolve retroactively as this project continues, and in the meantime, I’ll remain content to absorb one of the most ambitious cross-media offerings of 2024.
#9. Myrath // Karma – The release of Karma marked my first prolonged exposure to Myrath, and while I don’t adore it as heavily as some of my AMG colleagues, it remained in heavy rotation throughout 2024 all the same. Karma is an uncommonly proficient slab of pop metal, one that smartly leverages its latent progressive and folk metal leanings in sublimely bombastic fashion. It lacks variety, but Myrath navigates Karma’s narrow aesthetic with such precision as to maximize its scope, resulting in an album that compels through efficiency. Ultimately, the most important quality of any pop record is its ability to lodge its hooks into my brain, and I have had every single one of these songs stuck in my head many times throughout the year. If that kind of recurring impact isn’t worthy of a spot on this list, I don’t know what is.
#8. Soulmass // Principality of Mechanical Violence – Despite Soulmass’ previous LP basing its concept on my favorite video game, Principality of Mechanical Violence hit me way harder despite unfamiliarity with its source material. My knowledge of Gundam may only go so far as that handsome blonde fellow in red who apparently did nothing wrong, but I do know that this Gundam concept album rocks unlike any other Soulmass record. It largely culls the band’s moodier death/doom passages in favor of concise riffage, yet is also densely melodic, neatly slotting melancholic guitar leads alongside meaty riffs that echo Bolt Thrower and Cannibal Corpse. The resulting listening experience is equally absorbing and exhilarating, enticing me to get in the robot time and time again.
#7. Mega Colossus // Showdown – Mega Colossus just gets it. Not once in my years of listening to this band have I gotten a sense that they are trying to recapture the heyday of traditional metal, or otherwise be anything in the moment other than themselves. Showdown further cements my impression, as it sees Mega Colossus reaching ever further into their bottomless bag of nerd fixations. The resulting songs cover topical ground ranging from Porco Rosso to Mad Max: Fury Road, but more importantly, they masterfully weave inspirations as far-reaching as Kansas and Megadeth into their core aesthetic of Iron Maiden-inspired trad metal. Combine the playfully loose hold on genre convention with Mega Colossus’ ever-effusive lyrics, and you have one of the most purely entertaining records of the year from one of the best modern bands in the genre.
#6. Black Curse // Burning in Celestial Poison – Unlike other albums on this list, I have not returned to Burning in Celestial Poison to reconfirm its standing. Call me irresponsible, but I must emphasize that my memory and impression of this record – one formed after multiple days of consecutive spins – remains fully crystalized in my mind. Black Curse’s sophomore outing is one that continues to linger in the darker corners of my mind, a wholly unique vision of blackened death metal that, while not as traditionally thrilling as the band’s debut, is more than the sum of its parts. That “more” manifests as an incorporeal malefic entity seemingly possessing motives independent of the artists who spawned it. Burning in Celestial Poison feels like a living, breathing work, one which unsettles as much as it entices.
#5. Oak, Ash & Thorn // Our Grief is Thus – Our Grief is Thus is one of those albums that feels made specifically for me, with power metal vocals and melodeath riffage wrapped in an overarching aesthetic of black metal, folk metal, and crust punk. Beyond gifting me the forbidden knowledge that power metal with d-beats can and does work, it’s also a generally excellent example of effective genre splicing, feeling as though it belongs in both all and none of the styles from which it cleverly pulls inspiration. What Oak, Ash & Thorn has accomplished with this sophomore outing is an explosively energetic yet cohesive record, and one so melodically effervescent as to be compulsively replayable. Our Grief is Thus is the most surprising record of 2024, and I am firmly seated on the OAT boat for whatever comes next.
#4. Madder Mortem // Old Eyes, New Heart – Madder Mortem is a name I’ve heard tossed around since 2009, and who I never bothered to check out because I thought they were some sorta high falutin’, artsy fartsy doom metal band. That may have been the case once upon a time, but at some point they evolved into the accessible sort of dark progressive metal showcased on Old Eyes, New Heart. Immediately gripping and heavy yet disarmingly vulnerable, this record converted me to Madder Mortem fandom almost instantly. Its songs wormed their way under my skin with atomic precision and never left; as early as my third listen, they felt like old friends, albeit ones prone to trauma dumping. There may be records I liked more in 2024, but none moved or shook me quite like Old Eyes, New Heart.
#3. Galneryus // The Stars Will Light the Way – I’ve read dozens of comments all parroting a mildly irksome take: The Stars Will Light the Way feels like Galneryus on cruise control. While this has mostly been opined through a positive lens, it still feels unfairly reductive when considering the sheer quality and consistency of this album. Sure, Sho’s voice is notably strained at this point, but he excels at utilizing his current strengths in the strongest collection of Galneryus tracks since 2014’s Vetelgyus. It’s also the most straightforward record Galneryus has released since Vetelgyus, nixing much of the experimentation and darker leanings of recent offerings (“In Water’s Gaze” notwithstanding) in favor of unbridled jubilance. So yeah, sure, The Stars Will Light the Way is a “safe” record if you want to call it that. It’s still one of the best records from the best power metal band in the world.
#2. Nemedian Chronicles // The Savage Sword – I can hardly believe that Nemedian Chronicles is not a Greek band. They sound so in step with acts like Sacred Outcry that I can practically feel the lamb and tzatziki sauce falling out of an overloaded gyro and onto my lap. Yet the appeal of Nemedian Chronicles is singular. There is a lot of love for Blind Guardian and Sacred Outcry on The Savage Sword, but there is also a distinctly epic, cinematic quality that hearkens back to Bal-Sagoth’s overwrought storytelling. Between the propulsive riffs and sweeping melodies, I’m immediately absorbed into the experience with every listen, and that’s to say nothing of the engaging and often unpredictable songwriting. In most years, The Savage Sword would handily take the crown for best power metal release. However…
#1. Fellowship // The Skies Above Eternity – You know that little bit of text under my review of The Skies Above Eternity that says “Rating: 4.0/5.0?” That number is technically correct per the AMG style guide, but what that number can’t account for is the fact that The Skies Above Eternity is a record I’ll be listening to for the rest of my life. 2022’s The Saberlight Chronicles is a true 5.0/5.0 by any objective or subjective metric, and while The Skies Above Eternity is not as good from a technical standpoint, it fully recaptures the strengths that made its predecessor a modern power metal icon. Fellowship’s debut may have had higher and more frequent peaks, but The Skies Above Eternity excels through consistency and conciseness. The band’s trademark earnestness, vulnerability, and impeccable sense of melodic craft can be felt in every second of the experience. It doesn’t matter whether this record is the best material Fellowship is capable of producing because it warms me in the exact same way they’ve been doing since their first EP, making The Skies Above Eternity one of my most treasured records by default. This album may be a 4.0 in my brain, but it’s a 4.5 in my heart and a 5.0 in my soul.
Song o’ the Year
Fellowship’s “Hold Up Your Hearts (Again)” – I was present in the audience when Fellowship debuted this song live, and everyone was so on board with the silliness of its title that we enthusiastically welcomed it into the Fellowship canon with a communal sea of heart hands. It doesn’t top “Glint” as my favorite Fellowship song, but its concentrated formula of speedy Euro-power metal and the lyrics’ pitch-perfect shonen anime energy handily clear second place status.
Disappointment o’ the Year
Various “Artists” – The Continued Proliferation of Crappy AI Album “Art” – This blog has not adopted a formal stance on albums featuring generative AI artwork, nor do I feel it needs to. But this is my list, and I’m taking the opportunity to say that if I get so much as a whiff of AI coming off of an album going into 2025, I won’t be giving it the time of day, much less a review. It is unfathomable to think some musicians can devote so much time and creative energy into creating an album, only to hold zero value in the image that is supposed to be introducing that album to the world. In fact, if an album features an AI-generated cover, I automatically assume that the devaluation of art permeates the music itself in some form. Either pay a fucking artist to create an album cover for you, or go outside to take a picture of a cool tree or something and slap a Photoshop filter on it. If that proves too difficult, the public domain is your friend. If it’s good enough for Bolt Thrower, it’s sure as hell good enough for your shitty bedroom black metal project.
#2024 #40WattSun #ABurialAtSea #Alcest #andEldritchElitistSTopTenIshOf2024 #Aquilus #At1980 #Beardfish #BlackCurse #BloodIncantation #CruceSignatus #CryptSermon #Dissimulator #Dool #ElCuervoS #Fellowship #Galneryus #GardensTaleS #Hamferð #Huntsmen #InVain #Iotunn #Kalax #Kanonenfieber #LabyrinthusStellarum #Lists #Listurnalia #MadderMortem #Meer #MegaColossus #Monkey3 #MorgulBlade #Myrath #NemedianChronicles #OakAshThorn #Opeth #Selbst #Sidewinder #SleepytimeGorillaMuseum #Soulmass #Syst3mGlitch #TheVisionBleak #Vredehammer #Walg
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El Cuervo’s, GardensTale’s, and Eldritch Elitist’s Top Ten(ish) of 2024
By El Cuervo
El Cuervo
After more than a decade in this job, the years start to blur. While there may be an almost imperceptible feeling that some years are musically stronger than others, I’ve started to reach the realization that they’re all basically the same. 99% of heavy metal spawned into the world is destined to be forgotten or disparaged.
That’s not to say I’m bored of this state of affairs. The metal community, and in particular its underground, remains in a robust position to peddle the best non-mainstream music in the world, boasting a wide array of sub-genres from all over the globe. Just look at my list below: nine of the selections are from the atypical regions of Northern Europe and North America, hitherto unknown for their metal output.
Nonetheless, it’s the year-to-year consistency that highlights the importance of gathering our thoughts at annual intervals to assemble a list of real quality. This process reminds me why I still spend hundreds of hours each year consuming and reviewing new music. These stand-outs justify my decision and I deeply enjoy commemorating them in this ranking extravaganza. Revel in the albums that most excited me in 2024.
#10. A Burial at Sea // Close to Home – As much as music may impress you with its technical chops or hook you with its bold melodies, it’s music that makes you feel something that endures. The idiosyncratic brand of post-rock heard on Close to Home, dipping into brassy jazz and techy math rock as much as it does shoegaze, always prioritizes its emotive impact above all else. I love the gentle lilt, the crashing apices, the shimmering walls of noise, the orchestral edges. A Burial at Sea ebbs with slow rhythms and delicate chords, but flows with heavy drums and tremolo-picked melodies. The natural cadence across tracks makes the album feel complete. Each year yields one or two ‘mood’ releases for me to savor in a dark room with my headphones and my thoughts; 2024’s is Close to Home.
#9. Kanonenfieber // Die Urkatastrophe – As much as I initially enjoyed Die Urkatastrophe as a studio album, it took the Kanonenfieber live experience to really get its hooks into me. This isn’t just blackened death metal. It’s theatrical, energetic, and catchy, without devolving into something as simple as ‘meloblack’. The shout-along choruses and grooving leads were accentuated in a live setting, and I was incentivized to dig back through the Kanonenfieber back catalog. But the gig wouldn’t have been as entertaining as it was without the underlying music being of high quality. I’ve been to plenty of shows which have encouraged me to revisit an artist – but where the studio release is far less potent. Die Urkatastrophe has the chops and power to excel in both formats.
#8. Aquilus// Bellum II – Lots of black metal adopts the adjective of ‘atmospheric’ but few come as close to this as Aquilus. Horace Rosenqvist forges music that harmonizes but transcends classical and black metal, beguiling and terrifying in equal measure. Bellum II may be marginally the lesser of Bellum I, but it’s still among the best music released this year. Its compositions are extraordinary, as they subtly and satisfyingly transition from delicate piano and strings to towering black metal blasts. This is the prime example of the album’s devastating dichotomies that I previously described (“elegance and savagery; serenity and chaos; airiness and crunch”). Rosenqvist is a singularly mesmerizing instrumentalist and composer, able to pull contrasting music into a brutal but beautiful whole.
#7. Hamferð // Men Guðs hond er sterk – It’s hard to conceive of a more metal homeland than the Faroe Islands. Cold? Dark? Remote? Check, check, check. This results in Hamferð’s frigid, towering block of death-inflected doom metal that owes as much to its isolated island roots as it does to any other metal band. Men Guðs hond er sterk is a crushingly heavy album, but one gilded with a hopeful edge derived from its concept wherein a survivor of a whaling accident emphasizes the miracle of his life. While prioritizing the sheer weight of mass and exquisitely despondent leads, the album also benefits from one of metal’s most talented vocalists in Jón Aldará, who runs the gamut from bellowing growls to melancholic croons. Though it runs out of steam by the gentle acoustic conclusion, the preceding thirty-nine minutes are monumental.
#6. Blood Incantation // Absolute Elsewhere – Blood Incantation is plainly an excellent band. But I’m struggling to explain why Absolute Elsewhere became the underground cross-over metal album of the year, favored by big and small publications alike. Perhaps it’s the savage but technical riffs that make you mosh and think simultaneously. Perhaps it’s the Floydian approach to song structures. Perhaps it’s the penchant for meandering, Tangerine Dreamy interludes. Perhaps it’s the sophisticated fusion of something heavy so listeners feel edgy, with something chill so listeners feel safe. Perhaps it’s the conspiratorial orientation around our alien overlords building the pyramids. Perhaps it’s all of these and more. Hmm. On reflection, I think I do understand why everyone loves Absolute Elsewhere as much as they do.
#5. Crypt Sermon // The Stygian Rose – We all know that doom is the worst core metal sub-genre. To my abject horror, 2024 saw not one but two excellent examples of it. Crypt Sermon stormed the top five of my list, folding excellent leads and engaging solos into some of the most captivating metal of the year. While the front half is good, it’s the back half where things hit another level. “Heavy Is the Crown of Bone” until the title track exemplifies the best of the sub-genre through their epic proportions, memorable melodies and fat, crunchy guitar tones. While the riffs have immediate impact, the detailed compositions give the songs real staying power. Layers of guitars, a tempo that eschews dirge speeds, varied vocals and progressive song constructions march the album to a conclusion that comes too quickly.
#4. Syst3m Glitch // The Brave Ones – The remainder of this list documents my love for heavy metal and all things progressive. But synthwave is the third pillar of my music library and the most joyous. The best of the year comes from Florida’s Syst3m Glitch. He’s not always been my first pick for synths, but The Brave Ones dramatically outperformed his prior output and muscled its way into my favorite albums from 2024. It’s stuffed full of catchy, memorable tunes that traverse the synthwave soundscape, from the pop-laced sweetness of “California,” to the pulsing rhythms of “Thrill Ride,” to the darksynth pastiche of “Tommy Danger,” and finally to the smooth retrowave of “Raining in Tokyo.” It’s rare for one release to cover this much territory, and rarer still that it’s so successful in doing so.
#3. Dissimulator // Lower Form Resistance – February is early in the year but I knew then that Lower Form Resistance would be high on my list. Dissimulator inherits death metal traits from the members’ other bands (including Beyond Creation and First Fragment) but builds these into uber-tight, technical thrash metal. The excellence of the riffs here is fucking relentlessness; no other 2024 release can boast such a fine repertoire. From the ridiculously good “Neural Hack” until the closer, the album generates such entertainment value that it feels half as long as it is. The exemplary instrumentation, chaotic energy and technological feel make Lower Form Resistance sound like Voivod reinvented for the 2020s. In a sub-genre so preoccupied with rehashing old ideas – I do not accept that thrash metal must sound like 1986 – Dissimulator thrives by looking forward.
#2. In Vain // Solemn – It’s no secret that I’m a prog nerd. While In Vain has always been plenty progressive through varied and unpredictable songwriting, what I envy most is the knack for incorporating myriad styles into one cohesive sound. Solemn follows two prior records demarcated by their fusions of melodic death metal, black metal, progressive rock, and Nordic folk music. This fusion has never been more seamless than it is in 2024. The expansive songs feel like they should be extremely long and complex but in reality, they hardly exceed seven minutes and utilize powerful melodic anchors. As if all this wasn’t enough, the quintessential In Vain guitar and vocal harmonies, and orchestral pomp, elevate the songs into metal magic. Solemn is pure Cuervo catnip.
#1. Opeth // The Last Will and Testament – It feels like I’ve spent much of the last few months describing just how much I admire Opeth. This year-end list is no exception as I properly rank The Last Will and Testament as 2024’s best release. With the Opeth ranking articles so recent, I think it would fall into the upper half of their work. In a discography littered with records revered by both metalheads and prog nerds, this demarcates a record of rare quality. Though – yes – Åkerfeldt returns to growled vocals here, this is just a small piece of what makes The Last Will and Testament so good. From the sophisticated compositions to the entertaining story, and the exemplary instrumentation to the immaculate production, its knotty harmonization of death metal with progressive rock has the aura of perfection. No other record from 2024 can make such a claim.
Honorable Mentions
- Beardfish // Songs for Beating Hearts – The unheralded return of these Swedes yields a shockingly vital slice of prog rock, boasting tidy riffs, folksy warmth, and engaging song-writing.
- At 1980 // Forget to Remember – While predictable, At 1980 remains an interminably satisfying retrowave artist through their smooth synths, melodic guitar solos, and easy vocals.
- Morgul Blade // Heavy Metal Wraiths – Morgul Blade forms a destructive harmony between three of my favorite things: razor-sharp classic metal leads, harsh vocal,s and Tolkien nerdery.
- Kalax // Lost – While bloated and meandering – lost, perhaps – the return of Liverpool’s premier retro synth act finds a delicate dichotomy between frigidity and comfort.
Songs o’ the Year
- Unto Others – “Never, Neverland”
- Syst3m Glitch – “Raining in Tokyo”
- Iotunn – “Iridescent Way”
- Opeth – “A Story Never Told”
- Lebrock – “Goliath”
- At 1980 – “Your Secret”
- Nestor – “Caroline”
- Crypt Sermon – “The Stygian Rose”
- Dissimulator – “Neural Hack”
- Winterun – “Silver Leaves”
GardensTale
Fucking hell, what a year. Ordinarily, I’d try and wax poetically on the passing of time or some shit here. Looking back with melancholy and whatnot seems to be the intention for opening paragraphs to arbitrary lists of what music this one rando that I happen to be got the most enjoyment from this year. But I think this time, I’ll try some brutal honesty instead. It’s not been a great year overall. I won’t bore you with a tedious list, numbering my shades of the various common mental issues people my age and disposition face, but suffice it to say I’ve closed out most prior years in better spirits. But I’m getting help, I’m fighting it, and I’m learning. Learning to give myself grace, to step back when I need to. And if that sometimes means slowing down on a review, well, it’s a small price to pay.
One consequence is that I have spent less time listening to music I wasn’t reviewing. That shows below because this list will look like the most self-congratulatory thing I ever wrote. The vast majority of entries I penned myself, be it as a full article, a TYMHM or even a filter entry. But the funny part is, I thought it was a really strong year! I had quite a sizeable shortlist to whittle down. But then I was done whittling and discovered I’d almost exclusively cut albums I did not review, like APES, Crypt Sermon and Hamferð for instance. Additionally, I find I’ve added less to the list in the second half of the year, and my sullied brain has questioned myself many times: was autumn weaker than usual, or is my growing ennui obstructing my ability to like things as much as they deserve?
I don’t know, to tell the truth. And I’m unlikely to find out, because time marches on and new releases darken the horizon of January even now. There are only so many hours in the day, so much music hitting the virtual marketplaces and streaming colossi. To give each year its proper due would take 5 years, or having no job or other hobbies. So I can’t give you a fair, balanced and complete list of the best records of the year, because I do have a job and other hobbies, and no time machine. I can only give you the records that made me feel good. I hope they made or will make you feel good, too.
(ish). Dool // The Shape of Fluidity — I’ve been aware of Dool for a while now, even before vocalist Raven van Dorst became a national television personality. But it wasn’t until I caught “Venus in Flames” on the metal radio station in the car that I became interested in their music. The Shape of Fluidity crystallizes Van Dorst’s lifelong struggle with identity into a fierce, defiant, and intensely personal album. The androgynous vocals sizzle with raw emotion, and the instrumentation is likewise fluid in its presentation, swaying from almost post-punk energy to Anathema-adjacent prog and dipping into epic doom. An excellent album that really puts Dool on the map.
10. Alcest // Les Chants de l’Aurore — Here’s a fun fact: I always thought Souvenirs d’un Autre Monde wasn’t Alcest’s first album. It was the first album of theirs I heard, but since about 97 out of 100 bands that evolve their sound go softer rather than harder, I assumed there was something more extreme preceding it. Alcest tends to do things differently, though, changing things up rather radically from album to album. Les Chants de l’Aurore has elements from many of its older siblings, but the mood it sets is such a beautiful warm summer melancholy, it sets it apart in a very special way. And seeing it performed live a few weeks ago was a very special experience that seared the album in my mind.
9. Madder Mortem // Old Eyes, New Heart — No, I’ll never stop proselytizing Madder Mortem, why do you ask? Old Eyes, New Heart wasn’t what I expected, yet in many ways was just what I needed, and was strangely prophetic at times. It’s the most intensely personal album from the Norwegians (which is saying something) and through the healing power of shared misery, sitting down with it is like a good session with a therapist.
8. 40 Watt Sun // Little Weight — Patrick Walker could sing me The Cat In The Hat and I’d still feel like weeping. I’m not sure the man could earn anything below a 4.0 from me if he tried. That being said, Little Weight still takes a spot by the sunny window that 40 Watt Sun hasn’t explored before. Where Perfect Light and Wider Than the Sky were steeped in sadness, Little Weight expels it. It might be the most hopeful album I’ve heard this year, a return to the light from the deepest darkest places. It’s been a comforting hug on bad days, a warm blanket to fight the cold.
7. Walg // IV — The second year in a row I get to feature this duo. Walg is quickly becoming one of my favorite black metal bands. IV fits any mood, really. It’s got anger, it’s got despair, but it also has enough catchy tunes and energy for when you’re in a good mood. You can play the whole thing start to finish, and you can pick out your favorites and stick ‘em in a playlist. As such, it’s been this year’s ol’ reliable, the album to return to when nothing else sparks joy.
6. Kanonenfieber // Die Urkatastrophe — If I had a nickel for every time an acclaimed blackened death metal band exclusively used historically accurate World War I accounts and even performed in uniform, I’d have two nickels. It’s kind of difficult for me to mentally separate Kanonenfieber and 1914 for obvious reasons. Luckily there is space for both in the trenches because Noise’s project has become a mean Menschen mühling machine. “Der Maulwurf” grabbed me by the throat from the first spin, and everything else followed over and over again. Epic, bludgeoning and harrowing.
5. Labyrinthus Stellarum // Vortex of the Worlds — I can’t stop playing this album. It is stuck in my algorithm. The bleeps and bloops that summon Hastur from the depths of space and time live in my head and they do not pay rent. How did two kids1 from a war-torn country manage this? Labyrinthus Stellarum is so goddamn good at composing addictive melodies in 4 dimensions it should be considered unfair. The only reason it’s not higher is because at this point the competition becomes even more unfair.
4. Iotunn // Kinship — A lot of people told me in the comments that the closing track on Kinship is a great song and shouldn’t have affected my rating of the album as a whole. They are wrong on both counts. This is a shame because up to that point, this is the album of the year. Earning what amounts to a 4.495 despite a disappointing closer is an incredible feat, but the songwriting on the best couple of tracks here is simply unparalleled. “Mistland,” “The Coming End” and especially “Earth to Sky” are just massive in a way few bands ever achieve, and Iotunn make it seem effortless.
3. Vredehammer // God Slayer — One improvement to my life is that I am returning semi-regularly to the gym these days. I’ve struggled with working out consistently, but I can usually get a session a week in these days. And my number one companion for these outings has been God Slayer. The bridge in the title track alone gives me enough energy to break whatever personal record I’ll be working on at the time. Just looking at the album art gives me an extra pound of gains for the week.
2. Meer // Wheels Within Wheels — Yeah, it’s not really metal, but it’s proggy and it’s fucking gorgeous so up yours, elitists! I’ve come to the opinion that Norway is simply the best country for prog in general, and Meer is just another notch in that belt. Whereas Playing House didn’t really grab me at the time, I couldn’t stop spinning Wheels Within Wheels. I had to start every day with “Come to Light” for a while, and the climax of that track is so uniquely empowering it’d help beat down whatever funk I found myself in at the time. The symphonic composition and multi-vocal approach are just beautiful and it truly does not get old. Meer has outdone itself.
1. Huntsmen // The Dry Land — I’ve had multiple comeback stories this year. Outside of metal, both Elbow and That Handsome Devil returned with fantastic albums after the last was simply disappointing. The biggest comeback and biggest surprise was, without a doubt, Huntsmen. Mandala of Fear was such a slog, I could never have expected the perfect tight flow of The Dry Land. Every track is a journey in and of itself, and the diversity is immense. The Dry Land has become one of those albums where I can’t put it on without finishing it entirely; I’ll just keep going ‘Oh yes the next song has these awesome mournful vocals’ or ‘Ah here comes that mindblowing transition.’ It’s been a great year for metal and music in general, but the way Huntsmen returned from the grave and far surpassed even their vaunted debut was the absolute peak for me, and it has not since been surpassed by any other release.
Honorable Mentions
- Sleepytime Gorilla Museum // of the Last Human Being — Considering how thrilled I was to get a new SGM album I expected this to wind up higher, but it’s still a great and unsettling resurrection for one of the true premier avant-garde collectives.
- Selbst // Despondency Chord Progressions — There’s been plenty of emotionally grabbing black metal of various sorts this year, but Selbst had the coolest take out of them all, with a melodic sense that felt almost trad metal without losing edge or impact.
- Monkey3 // Welcome to the Machine — Easily the best instrumental album of the year. Tasteful nods to Pink Floyd wrapped in a massive maelstrom of heavy psych that gets the balancing act of repetition and evolution precisely right.
- The Vision Bleak // Weird Tales — An even tighter and more cohesive album than its excellent predecessor. Weird Tales is like an amazing haunted house ride.
- Sidewinder // Talons — I really wanted to have this in the main list, because you don’t get stoner this great very often. Alas, the competition was too strong. But listen to it anyway if you haven’t!
Non-Metal Albums
This is a metal blog, despite our occasional forays into tangential material like Meer. But several of my favorite non-metal artists all released some excellent albums, and considering the year I’ve had and the state of the world, I’d rather end with some positivity for the open-minded among you, who are secure enough in their trveness to partake in some decidedly vntrve yet excellent releases.
- Man Man // Carrot on Strings — The quirky and rambunctious Zappa-in-the-Bayou outfit led by the enigmatic Honus Honus kills it with this eclectic and introspective release. Everything from pulsing club EDM to mellow country and various mixtures further off the musical maps, it’s a wild and engaging odyssey.
- That Handsome Devil // Exploitopia — After the disappointing Your Parents Are Sellouts, these weirdos blew off the barn doors with this comeback. Best described as alternative gypsy surf jazz rock hip-hop, Exploitopia gushes anti-consumerism and anti-capitalism with sardonic humor and biting sarcasm.
- Elbow // Audio Vertigo — The most commercially successful band on this list, but I still feel like many metalheads aren’t aware of how good these Brits are. And Audio Vertigo is one of their best albums to date: versatile, infectious, with a warm melancholy and wry camaraderie. Beautiful.
- Future Islands // People Who Aren’t There Anymore — A breakup album, filled with aching loneliness and longing, yet a strange sense of hope winds through the pulsing synth-pop. Frontman Samuel Herring is an absolute king of emotive, raspy crooning, and his performance brings a ton of personality to the album.
Songs o’ the Year
- Huntsmen – “Rain”
- Meer – “Come to Light”
- Iotunn – “Earth to Sky”
- Tom Cardy – “Transcendental Cha Cha Cha”
- Walg – “Als een Korrel Zand”
- Vredehammer – “God Slayer”
- Tribulation – “The Reaping Song”
- Madder Mortem – “Towers”
- Kanonenfieber – “Der Maulwurf”
- Iotunn – “The Coming End”
- Selbst – “Chant of Self Confrontation”
Eldritch Elitist
Huh. It’s apparently been four fucking years since I last penned a proper 2 Records o’ the Year list for Angry Metal Guy. This time last year, I wasn’t sure whether I’d be contributing such a list ever again. I still love this blog and the music we celebrate, but making regular contributions to AMG requires a not-insignificant time investment, and I’ve found myself spread ever-thinner over the years. And then January happened, in which a startling number of fantastic releases in that month alone resulted in the crystallization of a single goal: To make 2024 my most complete year of musical indulgence to date. If there was an album released that even slightly piqued my interest in a given week, I was going to find time to listen to it, ideally to completion. This resolve resulted in so many discoveries that I could have penned Top Ten Records o’ the Month articles for multiple months of 2024.
When I say “multiple months,” I really mean “January through March”, as my momentum dwindled when mid-April rolled around. Compounding factors between life and work suddenly left me with much less time in which to indulge in new music. Once I fell behind, I quickly realized that it would be virtually impossible to keep up the listening schedule I had set for myself, and subsequently gave up the ghost. As badly as I wanted to contribute the most confidently comprehensive year-end list possible, this list might as well be titled “Eldritch Elitist’s Top 10 Records o’ Q1 2024 & Friends”. Lopsided though it may be, that’s no excuse to not take a legitimate stab at a list at all, especially not when comments like this keep rolling in… Wait, why the hell has that guy been hanging around the AMG break room? Christ, I really need to work on staying in the loop around here. Anyway, here’s some albums I like; no -ishs, HMs, or butts about it.
#10. Cruce Signatus // Cruce Signatus – While Cruce Signatus sits at the bottom of my top 10, I have listened to it more than any other record this year outside of my number 1 pick. It’s become a go-to record to throw on thanks to its instrumental nature and soundtrack-like ebb and flow. More than that, Cruce Signatus’ unique blend of metal and synthwave is legitimately compelling, feeling distinct from similar acts as an actual soundtrack to an in-progress animation project. The downside is that this record feels partially complete because it literally is. The upside is that the experience of listening to this record will surely evolve retroactively as this project continues, and in the meantime, I’ll remain content to absorb one of the most ambitious cross-media offerings of 2024.
#9. Myrath // Karma – The release of Karma marked my first prolonged exposure to Myrath, and while I don’t adore it as heavily as some of my AMG colleagues, it remained in heavy rotation throughout 2024 all the same. Karma is an uncommonly proficient slab of pop metal, one that smartly leverages its latent progressive and folk metal leanings in sublimely bombastic fashion. It lacks variety, but Myrath navigates Karma’s narrow aesthetic with such precision as to maximize its scope, resulting in an album that compels through efficiency. Ultimately, the most important quality of any pop record is its ability to lodge its hooks into my brain, and I have had every single one of these songs stuck in my head many times throughout the year. If that kind of recurring impact isn’t worthy of a spot on this list, I don’t know what is.
#8. Soulmass // Principality of Mechanical Violence – Despite Soulmass’ previous LP basing its concept on my favorite video game, Principality of Mechanical Violence hit me way harder despite unfamiliarity with its source material. My knowledge of Gundam may only go so far as that handsome blonde fellow in red who apparently did nothing wrong, but I do know that this Gundam concept album rocks unlike any other Soulmass record. It largely culls the band’s moodier death/doom passages in favor of concise riffage, yet is also densely melodic, neatly slotting melancholic guitar leads alongside meaty riffs that echo Bolt Thrower and Cannibal Corpse. The resulting listening experience is equally absorbing and exhilarating, enticing me to get in the robot time and time again.
#7. Mega Colossus // Showdown – Mega Colossus just gets it. Not once in my years of listening to this band have I gotten a sense that they are trying to recapture the heyday of traditional metal, or otherwise be anything in the moment other than themselves. Showdown further cements my impression, as it sees Mega Colossus reaching ever further into their bottomless bag of nerd fixations. The resulting songs cover topical ground ranging from Porco Rosso to Mad Max: Fury Road, but more importantly, they masterfully weave inspirations as far-reaching as Kansas and Megadeth into their core aesthetic of Iron Maiden-inspired trad metal. Combine the playfully loose hold on genre convention with Mega Colossus’ ever-effusive lyrics, and you have one of the most purely entertaining records of the year from one of the best modern bands in the genre.
#6. Black Curse // Burning in Celestial Poison – Unlike other albums on this list, I have not returned to Burning in Celestial Poison to reconfirm its standing. Call me irresponsible, but I must emphasize that my memory and impression of this record – one formed after multiple days of consecutive spins – remains fully crystalized in my mind. Black Curse’s sophomore outing is one that continues to linger in the darker corners of my mind, a wholly unique vision of blackened death metal that, while not as traditionally thrilling as the band’s debut, is more than the sum of its parts. That “more” manifests as an incorporeal malefic entity seemingly possessing motives independent of the artists who spawned it. Burning in Celestial Poison feels like a living, breathing work, one which unsettles as much as it entices.
#5. Oak, Ash & Thorn // Our Grief is Thus – Our Grief is Thus is one of those albums that feels made specifically for me, with power metal vocals and melodeath riffage wrapped in an overarching aesthetic of black metal, folk metal, and crust punk. Beyond gifting me the forbidden knowledge that power metal with d-beats can and does work, it’s also a generally excellent example of effective genre splicing, feeling as though it belongs in both all and none of the styles from which it cleverly pulls inspiration. What Oak, Ash & Thorn has accomplished with this sophomore outing is an explosively energetic yet cohesive record, and one so melodically effervescent as to be compulsively replayable. Our Grief is Thus is the most surprising record of 2024, and I am firmly seated on the OAT boat for whatever comes next.
#4. Madder Mortem // Old Eyes, New Heart – Madder Mortem is a name I’ve heard tossed around since 2009, and who I never bothered to check out because I thought they were some sorta high falutin’, artsy fartsy doom metal band. That may have been the case once upon a time, but at some point they evolved into the accessible sort of dark progressive metal showcased on Old Eyes, New Heart. Immediately gripping and heavy yet disarmingly vulnerable, this record converted me to Madder Mortem fandom almost instantly. Its songs wormed their way under my skin with atomic precision and never left; as early as my third listen, they felt like old friends, albeit ones prone to trauma dumping. There may be records I liked more in 2024, but none moved or shook me quite like Old Eyes, New Heart.
#3. Galneryus // The Stars Will Light the Way – I’ve read dozens of comments all parroting a mildly irksome take: The Stars Will Light the Way feels like Galneryus on cruise control. While this has mostly been opined through a positive lens, it still feels unfairly reductive when considering the sheer quality and consistency of this album. Sure, Sho’s voice is notably strained at this point, but he excels at utilizing his current strengths in the strongest collection of Galneryus tracks since 2014’s Vetelgyus. It’s also the most straightforward record Galneryus has released since Vetelgyus, nixing much of the experimentation and darker leanings of recent offerings (“In Water’s Gaze” notwithstanding) in favor of unbridled jubilance. So yeah, sure, The Stars Will Light the Way is a “safe” record if you want to call it that. It’s still one of the best records from the best power metal band in the world.
#2. Nemedian Chronicles // The Savage Sword – I can hardly believe that Nemedian Chronicles is not a Greek band. They sound so in step with acts like Sacred Outcry that I can practically feel the lamb and tzatziki sauce falling out of an overloaded gyro and onto my lap. Yet the appeal of Nemedian Chronicles is singular. There is a lot of love for Blind Guardian and Sacred Outcry on The Savage Sword, but there is also a distinctly epic, cinematic quality that hearkens back to Bal-Sagoth’s overwrought storytelling. Between the propulsive riffs and sweeping melodies, I’m immediately absorbed into the experience with every listen, and that’s to say nothing of the engaging and often unpredictable songwriting. In most years, The Savage Sword would handily take the crown for best power metal release. However…
#1. Fellowship // The Skies Above Eternity – You know that little bit of text under my review of The Skies Above Eternity that says “Rating: 4.0/5.0?” That number is technically correct per the AMG style guide, but what that number can’t account for is the fact that The Skies Above Eternity is a record I’ll be listening to for the rest of my life. 2022’s The Saberlight Chronicles is a true 5.0/5.0 by any objective or subjective metric, and while The Skies Above Eternity is not as good from a technical standpoint, it fully recaptures the strengths that made its predecessor a modern power metal icon. Fellowship’s debut may have had higher and more frequent peaks, but The Skies Above Eternity excels through consistency and conciseness. The band’s trademark earnestness, vulnerability, and impeccable sense of melodic craft can be felt in every second of the experience. It doesn’t matter whether this record is the best material Fellowship is capable of producing because it warms me in the exact same way they’ve been doing since their first EP, making The Skies Above Eternity one of my most treasured records by default. This album may be a 4.0 in my brain, but it’s a 4.5 in my heart and a 5.0 in my soul.
Song o’ the Year
Fellowship’s “Hold Up Your Hearts (Again)” – I was present in the audience when Fellowship debuted this song live, and everyone was so on board with the silliness of its title that we enthusiastically welcomed it into the Fellowship canon with a communal sea of heart hands. It doesn’t top “Glint” as my favorite Fellowship song, but its concentrated formula of speedy Euro-power metal and the lyrics’ pitch-perfect shonen anime energy handily clear second place status.
Disappointment o’ the Year
Various “Artists” – The Continued Proliferation of Crappy AI Album “Art” – This blog has not adopted a formal stance on albums featuring generative AI artwork, nor do I feel it needs to. But this is my list, and I’m taking the opportunity to say that if I get so much as a whiff of AI coming off of an album going into 2025, I won’t be giving it the time of day, much less a review. It is unfathomable to think some musicians can devote so much time and creative energy into creating an album, only to hold zero value in the image that is supposed to be introducing that album to the world. In fact, if an album features an AI-generated cover, I automatically assume that the devaluation of art permeates the music itself in some form. Either pay a fucking artist to create an album cover for you, or go outside to take a picture of a cool tree or something and slap a Photoshop filter on it. If that proves too difficult, the public domain is your friend. If it’s good enough for Bolt Thrower, it’s sure as hell good enough for your shitty bedroom black metal project.
#2024 #40WattSun #ABurialAtSea #Alcest #andEldritchElitistSTopTenIshOf2024 #Aquilus #At1980 #Beardfish #BlackCurse #BloodIncantation #CruceSignatus #CryptSermon #Dissimulator #Dool #ElCuervoS #Fellowship #Galneryus #GardensTaleS #Hamferð #Huntsmen #InVain #Iotunn #Kalax #Kanonenfieber #LabyrinthusStellarum #Lists #Listurnalia #MadderMortem #Meer #MegaColossus #Monkey3 #MorgulBlade #Myrath #NemedianChronicles #OakAshThorn #Opeth #Selbst #Sidewinder #SleepytimeGorillaMuseum #Soulmass #Syst3mGlitch #TheVisionBleak #Vredehammer #Walg
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El Cuervo’s, GardensTale’s, and Eldritch Elitist’s Top Ten(ish) of 2024
By El Cuervo
El Cuervo
After more than a decade in this job, the years start to blur. While there may be an almost imperceptible feeling that some years are musically stronger than others, I’ve started to reach the realization that they’re all basically the same. 99% of heavy metal spawned into the world is destined to be forgotten or disparaged.
That’s not to say I’m bored of this state of affairs. The metal community, and in particular its underground, remains in a robust position to peddle the best non-mainstream music in the world, boasting a wide array of sub-genres from all over the globe. Just look at my list below: nine of the selections are from the atypical regions of Northern Europe and North America, hitherto unknown for their metal output.
Nonetheless, it’s the year-to-year consistency that highlights the importance of gathering our thoughts at annual intervals to assemble a list of real quality. This process reminds me why I still spend hundreds of hours each year consuming and reviewing new music. These stand-outs justify my decision and I deeply enjoy commemorating them in this ranking extravaganza. Revel in the albums that most excited me in 2024.
#10. A Burial at Sea // Close to Home – As much as music may impress you with its technical chops or hook you with its bold melodies, it’s music that makes you feel something that endures. The idiosyncratic brand of post-rock heard on Close to Home, dipping into brassy jazz and techy math rock as much as it does shoegaze, always prioritizes its emotive impact above all else. I love the gentle lilt, the crashing apices, the shimmering walls of noise, the orchestral edges. A Burial at Sea ebbs with slow rhythms and delicate chords, but flows with heavy drums and tremolo-picked melodies. The natural cadence across tracks makes the album feel complete. Each year yields one or two ‘mood’ releases for me to savor in a dark room with my headphones and my thoughts; 2024’s is Close to Home.
#9. Kanonenfieber // Die Urkatastrophe – As much as I initially enjoyed Die Urkatastrophe as a studio album, it took the Kanonenfieber live experience to really get its hooks into me. This isn’t just blackened death metal. It’s theatrical, energetic, and catchy, without devolving into something as simple as ‘meloblack’. The shout-along choruses and grooving leads were accentuated in a live setting, and I was incentivized to dig back through the Kanonenfieber back catalog. But the gig wouldn’t have been as entertaining as it was without the underlying music being of high quality. I’ve been to plenty of shows which have encouraged me to revisit an artist – but where the studio release is far less potent. Die Urkatastrophe has the chops and power to excel in both formats.
#8. Aquilus// Bellum II – Lots of black metal adopts the adjective of ‘atmospheric’ but few come as close to this as Aquilus. Horace Rosenqvist forges music that harmonizes but transcends classical and black metal, beguiling and terrifying in equal measure. Bellum II may be marginally the lesser of Bellum I, but it’s still among the best music released this year. Its compositions are extraordinary, as they subtly and satisfyingly transition from delicate piano and strings to towering black metal blasts. This is the prime example of the album’s devastating dichotomies that I previously described (“elegance and savagery; serenity and chaos; airiness and crunch”). Rosenqvist is a singularly mesmerizing instrumentalist and composer, able to pull contrasting music into a brutal but beautiful whole.
#7. Hamferð // Men Guðs hond er sterk – It’s hard to conceive of a more metal homeland than the Faroe Islands. Cold? Dark? Remote? Check, check, check. This results in Hamferð’s frigid, towering block of death-inflected doom metal that owes as much to its isolated island roots as it does to any other metal band. Men Guðs hond er sterk is a crushingly heavy album, but one gilded with a hopeful edge derived from its concept wherein a survivor of a whaling accident emphasizes the miracle of his life. While prioritizing the sheer weight of mass and exquisitely despondent leads, the album also benefits from one of metal’s most talented vocalists in Jón Aldará, who runs the gamut from bellowing growls to melancholic croons. Though it runs out of steam by the gentle acoustic conclusion, the preceding thirty-nine minutes are monumental.
#6. Blood Incantation // Absolute Elsewhere – Blood Incantation is plainly an excellent band. But I’m struggling to explain why Absolute Elsewhere became the underground cross-over metal album of the year, favored by big and small publications alike. Perhaps it’s the savage but technical riffs that make you mosh and think simultaneously. Perhaps it’s the Floydian approach to song structures. Perhaps it’s the penchant for meandering, Tangerine Dreamy interludes. Perhaps it’s the sophisticated fusion of something heavy so listeners feel edgy, with something chill so listeners feel safe. Perhaps it’s the conspiratorial orientation around our alien overlords building the pyramids. Perhaps it’s all of these and more. Hmm. On reflection, I think I do understand why everyone loves Absolute Elsewhere as much as they do.
#5. Crypt Sermon // The Stygian Rose – We all know that doom is the worst core metal sub-genre. To my abject horror, 2024 saw not one but two excellent examples of it. Crypt Sermon stormed the top five of my list, folding excellent leads and engaging solos into some of the most captivating metal of the year. While the front half is good, it’s the back half where things hit another level. “Heavy Is the Crown of Bone” until the title track exemplifies the best of the sub-genre through their epic proportions, memorable melodies and fat, crunchy guitar tones. While the riffs have immediate impact, the detailed compositions give the songs real staying power. Layers of guitars, a tempo that eschews dirge speeds, varied vocals and progressive song constructions march the album to a conclusion that comes too quickly.
#4. Syst3m Glitch // The Brave Ones – The remainder of this list documents my love for heavy metal and all things progressive. But synthwave is the third pillar of my music library and the most joyous. The best of the year comes from Florida’s Syst3m Glitch. He’s not always been my first pick for synths, but The Brave Ones dramatically outperformed his prior output and muscled its way into my favorite albums from 2024. It’s stuffed full of catchy, memorable tunes that traverse the synthwave soundscape, from the pop-laced sweetness of “California,” to the pulsing rhythms of “Thrill Ride,” to the darksynth pastiche of “Tommy Danger,” and finally to the smooth retrowave of “Raining in Tokyo.” It’s rare for one release to cover this much territory, and rarer still that it’s so successful in doing so.
#3. Dissimulator // Lower Form Resistance – February is early in the year but I knew then that Lower Form Resistance would be high on my list. Dissimulator inherits death metal traits from the members’ other bands (including Beyond Creation and First Fragment) but builds these into uber-tight, technical thrash metal. The excellence of the riffs here is fucking relentlessness; no other 2024 release can boast such a fine repertoire. From the ridiculously good “Neural Hack” until the closer, the album generates such entertainment value that it feels half as long as it is. The exemplary instrumentation, chaotic energy and technological feel make Lower Form Resistance sound like Voivod reinvented for the 2020s. In a sub-genre so preoccupied with rehashing old ideas – I do not accept that thrash metal must sound like 1986 – Dissimulator thrives by looking forward.
#2. In Vain // Solemn – It’s no secret that I’m a prog nerd. While In Vain has always been plenty progressive through varied and unpredictable songwriting, what I envy most is the knack for incorporating myriad styles into one cohesive sound. Solemn follows two prior records demarcated by their fusions of melodic death metal, black metal, progressive rock, and Nordic folk music. This fusion has never been more seamless than it is in 2024. The expansive songs feel like they should be extremely long and complex but in reality, they hardly exceed seven minutes and utilize powerful melodic anchors. As if all this wasn’t enough, the quintessential In Vain guitar and vocal harmonies, and orchestral pomp, elevate the songs into metal magic. Solemn is pure Cuervo catnip.
#1. Opeth // The Last Will and Testament – It feels like I’ve spent much of the last few months describing just how much I admire Opeth. This year-end list is no exception as I properly rank The Last Will and Testament as 2024’s best release. With the Opeth ranking articles so recent, I think it would fall into the upper half of their work. In a discography littered with records revered by both metalheads and prog nerds, this demarcates a record of rare quality. Though – yes – Åkerfeldt returns to growled vocals here, this is just a small piece of what makes The Last Will and Testament so good. From the sophisticated compositions to the entertaining story, and the exemplary instrumentation to the immaculate production, its knotty harmonization of death metal with progressive rock has the aura of perfection. No other record from 2024 can make such a claim.
Honorable Mentions
- Beardfish // Songs for Beating Hearts – The unheralded return of these Swedes yields a shockingly vital slice of prog rock, boasting tidy riffs, folksy warmth, and engaging song-writing.
- At 1980 // Forget to Remember – While predictable, At 1980 remains an interminably satisfying retrowave artist through their smooth synths, melodic guitar solos, and easy vocals.
- Morgul Blade // Heavy Metal Wraiths – Morgul Blade forms a destructive harmony between three of my favorite things: razor-sharp classic metal leads, harsh vocal,s and Tolkien nerdery.
- Kalax // Lost – While bloated and meandering – lost, perhaps – the return of Liverpool’s premier retro synth act finds a delicate dichotomy between frigidity and comfort.
Songs o’ the Year
- Unto Others – “Never, Neverland”
- Syst3m Glitch – “Raining in Tokyo”
- Iotunn – “Iridescent Way”
- Opeth – “A Story Never Told”
- Lebrock – “Goliath”
- At 1980 – “Your Secret”
- Nestor – “Caroline”
- Crypt Sermon – “The Stygian Rose”
- Dissimulator – “Neural Hack”
- Winterun – “Silver Leaves”
GardensTale
Fucking hell, what a year. Ordinarily, I’d try and wax poetically on the passing of time or some shit here. Looking back with melancholy and whatnot seems to be the intention for opening paragraphs to arbitrary lists of what music this one rando that I happen to be got the most enjoyment from this year. But I think this time, I’ll try some brutal honesty instead. It’s not been a great year overall. I won’t bore you with a tedious list, numbering my shades of the various common mental issues people my age and disposition face, but suffice it to say I’ve closed out most prior years in better spirits. But I’m getting help, I’m fighting it, and I’m learning. Learning to give myself grace, to step back when I need to. And if that sometimes means slowing down on a review, well, it’s a small price to pay.
One consequence is that I have spent less time listening to music I wasn’t reviewing. That shows below because this list will look like the most self-congratulatory thing I ever wrote. The vast majority of entries I penned myself, be it as a full article, a TYMHM or even a filter entry. But the funny part is, I thought it was a really strong year! I had quite a sizeable shortlist to whittle down. But then I was done whittling and discovered I’d almost exclusively cut albums I did not review, like APES, Crypt Sermon and Hamferð for instance. Additionally, I find I’ve added less to the list in the second half of the year, and my sullied brain has questioned myself many times: was autumn weaker than usual, or is my growing ennui obstructing my ability to like things as much as they deserve?
I don’t know, to tell the truth. And I’m unlikely to find out, because time marches on and new releases darken the horizon of January even now. There are only so many hours in the day, so much music hitting the virtual marketplaces and streaming colossi. To give each year its proper due would take 5 years, or having no job or other hobbies. So I can’t give you a fair, balanced and complete list of the best records of the year, because I do have a job and other hobbies, and no time machine. I can only give you the records that made me feel good. I hope they made or will make you feel good, too.
(ish). Dool // The Shape of Fluidity — I’ve been aware of Dool for a while now, even before vocalist Raven van Dorst became a national television personality. But it wasn’t until I caught “Venus in Flames” on the metal radio station in the car that I became interested in their music. The Shape of Fluidity crystallizes Van Dorst’s lifelong struggle with identity into a fierce, defiant, and intensely personal album. The androgynous vocals sizzle with raw emotion, and the instrumentation is likewise fluid in its presentation, swaying from almost post-punk energy to Anathema-adjacent prog and dipping into epic doom. An excellent album that really puts Dool on the map.
10. Alcest // Les Chants de l’Aurore — Here’s a fun fact: I always thought Souvenirs d’un Autre Monde wasn’t Alcest’s first album. It was the first album of theirs I heard, but since about 97 out of 100 bands that evolve their sound go softer rather than harder, I assumed there was something more extreme preceding it. Alcest tends to do things differently, though, changing things up rather radically from album to album. Les Chants de l’Aurore has elements from many of its older siblings, but the mood it sets is such a beautiful warm summer melancholy, it sets it apart in a very special way. And seeing it performed live a few weeks ago was a very special experience that seared the album in my mind.
9. Madder Mortem // Old Eyes, New Heart — No, I’ll never stop proselytizing Madder Mortem, why do you ask? Old Eyes, New Heart wasn’t what I expected, yet in many ways was just what I needed, and was strangely prophetic at times. It’s the most intensely personal album from the Norwegians (which is saying something) and through the healing power of shared misery, sitting down with it is like a good session with a therapist.
8. 40 Watt Sun // Little Weight — Patrick Walker could sing me The Cat In The Hat and I’d still feel like weeping. I’m not sure the man could earn anything below a 4.0 from me if he tried. That being said, Little Weight still takes a spot by the sunny window that 40 Watt Sun hasn’t explored before. Where Perfect Light and Wider Than the Sky were steeped in sadness, Little Weight expels it. It might be the most hopeful album I’ve heard this year, a return to the light from the deepest darkest places. It’s been a comforting hug on bad days, a warm blanket to fight the cold.
7. Walg // IV — The second year in a row I get to feature this duo. Walg is quickly becoming one of my favorite black metal bands. IV fits any mood, really. It’s got anger, it’s got despair, but it also has enough catchy tunes and energy for when you’re in a good mood. You can play the whole thing start to finish, and you can pick out your favorites and stick ‘em in a playlist. As such, it’s been this year’s ol’ reliable, the album to return to when nothing else sparks joy.
6. Kanonenfieber // Die Urkatastrophe — If I had a nickel for every time an acclaimed blackened death metal band exclusively used historically accurate World War I accounts and even performed in uniform, I’d have two nickels. It’s kind of difficult for me to mentally separate Kanonenfieber and 1914 for obvious reasons. Luckily there is space for both in the trenches because Noise’s project has become a mean Menschen mühling machine. “Der Maulwurf” grabbed me by the throat from the first spin, and everything else followed over and over again. Epic, bludgeoning and harrowing.
5. Labyrinthus Stellarum // Vortex of the Worlds — I can’t stop playing this album. It is stuck in my algorithm. The bleeps and bloops that summon Hastur from the depths of space and time live in my head and they do not pay rent. How did two kids1 from a war-torn country manage this? Labyrinthus Stellarum is so goddamn good at composing addictive melodies in 4 dimensions it should be considered unfair. The only reason it’s not higher is because at this point the competition becomes even more unfair.
4. Iotunn // Kinship — A lot of people told me in the comments that the closing track on Kinship is a great song and shouldn’t have affected my rating of the album as a whole. They are wrong on both counts. This is a shame because up to that point, this is the album of the year. Earning what amounts to a 4.495 despite a disappointing closer is an incredible feat, but the songwriting on the best couple of tracks here is simply unparalleled. “Mistland,” “The Coming End” and especially “Earth to Sky” are just massive in a way few bands ever achieve, and Iotunn make it seem effortless.
3. Vredehammer // God Slayer — One improvement to my life is that I am returning semi-regularly to the gym these days. I’ve struggled with working out consistently, but I can usually get a session a week in these days. And my number one companion for these outings has been God Slayer. The bridge in the title track alone gives me enough energy to break whatever personal record I’ll be working on at the time. Just looking at the album art gives me an extra pound of gains for the week.
2. Meer // Wheels Within Wheels — Yeah, it’s not really metal, but it’s proggy and it’s fucking gorgeous so up yours, elitists! I’ve come to the opinion that Norway is simply the best country for prog in general, and Meer is just another notch in that belt. Whereas Playing House didn’t really grab me at the time, I couldn’t stop spinning Wheels Within Wheels. I had to start every day with “Come to Light” for a while, and the climax of that track is so uniquely empowering it’d help beat down whatever funk I found myself in at the time. The symphonic composition and multi-vocal approach are just beautiful and it truly does not get old. Meer has outdone itself.
1. Huntsmen // The Dry Land — I’ve had multiple comeback stories this year. Outside of metal, both Elbow and That Handsome Devil returned with fantastic albums after the last was simply disappointing. The biggest comeback and biggest surprise was, without a doubt, Huntsmen. Mandala of Fear was such a slog, I could never have expected the perfect tight flow of The Dry Land. Every track is a journey in and of itself, and the diversity is immense. The Dry Land has become one of those albums where I can’t put it on without finishing it entirely; I’ll just keep going ‘Oh yes the next song has these awesome mournful vocals’ or ‘Ah here comes that mindblowing transition.’ It’s been a great year for metal and music in general, but the way Huntsmen returned from the grave and far surpassed even their vaunted debut was the absolute peak for me, and it has not since been surpassed by any other release.
Honorable Mentions
- Sleepytime Gorilla Museum // of the Last Human Being — Considering how thrilled I was to get a new SGM album I expected this to wind up higher, but it’s still a great and unsettling resurrection for one of the true premier avant-garde collectives.
- Selbst // Despondency Chord Progressions — There’s been plenty of emotionally grabbing black metal of various sorts this year, but Selbst had the coolest take out of them all, with a melodic sense that felt almost trad metal without losing edge or impact.
- Monkey3 // Welcome to the Machine — Easily the best instrumental album of the year. Tasteful nods to Pink Floyd wrapped in a massive maelstrom of heavy psych that gets the balancing act of repetition and evolution precisely right.
- The Vision Bleak // Weird Tales — An even tighter and more cohesive album than its excellent predecessor. Weird Tales is like an amazing haunted house ride.
- Sidewinder // Talons — I really wanted to have this in the main list, because you don’t get stoner this great very often. Alas, the competition was too strong. But listen to it anyway if you haven’t!
Non-Metal Albums
This is a metal blog, despite our occasional forays into tangential material like Meer. But several of my favorite non-metal artists all released some excellent albums, and considering the year I’ve had and the state of the world, I’d rather end with some positivity for the open-minded among you, who are secure enough in their trveness to partake in some decidedly vntrve yet excellent releases.
- Man Man // Carrot on Strings — The quirky and rambunctious Zappa-in-the-Bayou outfit led by the enigmatic Honus Honus kills it with this eclectic and introspective release. Everything from pulsing club EDM to mellow country and various mixtures further off the musical maps, it’s a wild and engaging odyssey.
- That Handsome Devil // Exploitopia — After the disappointing Your Parents Are Sellouts, these weirdos blew off the barn doors with this comeback. Best described as alternative gypsy surf jazz rock hip-hop, Exploitopia gushes anti-consumerism and anti-capitalism with sardonic humor and biting sarcasm.
- Elbow // Audio Vertigo — The most commercially successful band on this list, but I still feel like many metalheads aren’t aware of how good these Brits are. And Audio Vertigo is one of their best albums to date: versatile, infectious, with a warm melancholy and wry camaraderie. Beautiful.
- Future Islands // People Who Aren’t There Anymore — A breakup album, filled with aching loneliness and longing, yet a strange sense of hope winds through the pulsing synth-pop. Frontman Samuel Herring is an absolute king of emotive, raspy crooning, and his performance brings a ton of personality to the album.
Songs o’ the Year
- Huntsmen – “Rain”
- Meer – “Come to Light”
- Iotunn – “Earth to Sky”
- Tom Cardy – “Transcendental Cha Cha Cha”
- Walg – “Als een Korrel Zand”
- Vredehammer – “God Slayer”
- Tribulation – “The Reaping Song”
- Madder Mortem – “Towers”
- Kanonenfieber – “Der Maulwurf”
- Iotunn – “The Coming End”
- Selbst – “Chant of Self Confrontation”
Eldritch Elitist
Huh. It’s apparently been four fucking years since I last penned a proper 2 Records o’ the Year list for Angry Metal Guy. This time last year, I wasn’t sure whether I’d be contributing such a list ever again. I still love this blog and the music we celebrate, but making regular contributions to AMG requires a not-insignificant time investment, and I’ve found myself spread ever-thinner over the years. And then January happened, in which a startling number of fantastic releases in that month alone resulted in the crystallization of a single goal: To make 2024 my most complete year of musical indulgence to date. If there was an album released that even slightly piqued my interest in a given week, I was going to find time to listen to it, ideally to completion. This resolve resulted in so many discoveries that I could have penned Top Ten Records o’ the Month articles for multiple months of 2024.
When I say “multiple months,” I really mean “January through March”, as my momentum dwindled when mid-April rolled around. Compounding factors between life and work suddenly left me with much less time in which to indulge in new music. Once I fell behind, I quickly realized that it would be virtually impossible to keep up the listening schedule I had set for myself, and subsequently gave up the ghost. As badly as I wanted to contribute the most confidently comprehensive year-end list possible, this list might as well be titled “Eldritch Elitist’s Top 10 Records o’ Q1 2024 & Friends”. Lopsided though it may be, that’s no excuse to not take a legitimate stab at a list at all, especially not when comments like this keep rolling in… Wait, why the hell has that guy been hanging around the AMG break room? Christ, I really need to work on staying in the loop around here. Anyway, here’s some albums I like; no -ishs, HMs, or butts about it.
#10. Cruce Signatus // Cruce Signatus – While Cruce Signatus sits at the bottom of my top 10, I have listened to it more than any other record this year outside of my number 1 pick. It’s become a go-to record to throw on thanks to its instrumental nature and soundtrack-like ebb and flow. More than that, Cruce Signatus’ unique blend of metal and synthwave is legitimately compelling, feeling distinct from similar acts as an actual soundtrack to an in-progress animation project. The downside is that this record feels partially complete because it literally is. The upside is that the experience of listening to this record will surely evolve retroactively as this project continues, and in the meantime, I’ll remain content to absorb one of the most ambitious cross-media offerings of 2024.
#9. Myrath // Karma – The release of Karma marked my first prolonged exposure to Myrath, and while I don’t adore it as heavily as some of my AMG colleagues, it remained in heavy rotation throughout 2024 all the same. Karma is an uncommonly proficient slab of pop metal, one that smartly leverages its latent progressive and folk metal leanings in sublimely bombastic fashion. It lacks variety, but Myrath navigates Karma’s narrow aesthetic with such precision as to maximize its scope, resulting in an album that compels through efficiency. Ultimately, the most important quality of any pop record is its ability to lodge its hooks into my brain, and I have had every single one of these songs stuck in my head many times throughout the year. If that kind of recurring impact isn’t worthy of a spot on this list, I don’t know what is.
#8. Soulmass // Principality of Mechanical Violence – Despite Soulmass’ previous LP basing its concept on my favorite video game, Principality of Mechanical Violence hit me way harder despite unfamiliarity with its source material. My knowledge of Gundam may only go so far as that handsome blonde fellow in red who apparently did nothing wrong, but I do know that this Gundam concept album rocks unlike any other Soulmass record. It largely culls the band’s moodier death/doom passages in favor of concise riffage, yet is also densely melodic, neatly slotting melancholic guitar leads alongside meaty riffs that echo Bolt Thrower and Cannibal Corpse. The resulting listening experience is equally absorbing and exhilarating, enticing me to get in the robot time and time again.
#7. Mega Colossus // Showdown – Mega Colossus just gets it. Not once in my years of listening to this band have I gotten a sense that they are trying to recapture the heyday of traditional metal, or otherwise be anything in the moment other than themselves. Showdown further cements my impression, as it sees Mega Colossus reaching ever further into their bottomless bag of nerd fixations. The resulting songs cover topical ground ranging from Porco Rosso to Mad Max: Fury Road, but more importantly, they masterfully weave inspirations as far-reaching as Kansas and Megadeth into their core aesthetic of Iron Maiden-inspired trad metal. Combine the playfully loose hold on genre convention with Mega Colossus’ ever-effusive lyrics, and you have one of the most purely entertaining records of the year from one of the best modern bands in the genre.
#6. Black Curse // Burning in Celestial Poison – Unlike other albums on this list, I have not returned to Burning in Celestial Poison to reconfirm its standing. Call me irresponsible, but I must emphasize that my memory and impression of this record – one formed after multiple days of consecutive spins – remains fully crystalized in my mind. Black Curse’s sophomore outing is one that continues to linger in the darker corners of my mind, a wholly unique vision of blackened death metal that, while not as traditionally thrilling as the band’s debut, is more than the sum of its parts. That “more” manifests as an incorporeal malefic entity seemingly possessing motives independent of the artists who spawned it. Burning in Celestial Poison feels like a living, breathing work, one which unsettles as much as it entices.
#5. Oak, Ash & Thorn // Our Grief is Thus – Our Grief is Thus is one of those albums that feels made specifically for me, with power metal vocals and melodeath riffage wrapped in an overarching aesthetic of black metal, folk metal, and crust punk. Beyond gifting me the forbidden knowledge that power metal with d-beats can and does work, it’s also a generally excellent example of effective genre splicing, feeling as though it belongs in both all and none of the styles from which it cleverly pulls inspiration. What Oak, Ash & Thorn has accomplished with this sophomore outing is an explosively energetic yet cohesive record, and one so melodically effervescent as to be compulsively replayable. Our Grief is Thus is the most surprising record of 2024, and I am firmly seated on the OAT boat for whatever comes next.
#4. Madder Mortem // Old Eyes, New Heart – Madder Mortem is a name I’ve heard tossed around since 2009, and who I never bothered to check out because I thought they were some sorta high falutin’, artsy fartsy doom metal band. That may have been the case once upon a time, but at some point they evolved into the accessible sort of dark progressive metal showcased on Old Eyes, New Heart. Immediately gripping and heavy yet disarmingly vulnerable, this record converted me to Madder Mortem fandom almost instantly. Its songs wormed their way under my skin with atomic precision and never left; as early as my third listen, they felt like old friends, albeit ones prone to trauma dumping. There may be records I liked more in 2024, but none moved or shook me quite like Old Eyes, New Heart.
#3. Galneryus // The Stars Will Light the Way – I’ve read dozens of comments all parroting a mildly irksome take: The Stars Will Light the Way feels like Galneryus on cruise control. While this has mostly been opined through a positive lens, it still feels unfairly reductive when considering the sheer quality and consistency of this album. Sure, Sho’s voice is notably strained at this point, but he excels at utilizing his current strengths in the strongest collection of Galneryus tracks since 2014’s Vetelgyus. It’s also the most straightforward record Galneryus has released since Vetelgyus, nixing much of the experimentation and darker leanings of recent offerings (“In Water’s Gaze” notwithstanding) in favor of unbridled jubilance. So yeah, sure, The Stars Will Light the Way is a “safe” record if you want to call it that. It’s still one of the best records from the best power metal band in the world.
#2. Nemedian Chronicles // The Savage Sword – I can hardly believe that Nemedian Chronicles is not a Greek band. They sound so in step with acts like Sacred Outcry that I can practically feel the lamb and tzatziki sauce falling out of an overloaded gyro and onto my lap. Yet the appeal of Nemedian Chronicles is singular. There is a lot of love for Blind Guardian and Sacred Outcry on The Savage Sword, but there is also a distinctly epic, cinematic quality that hearkens back to Bal-Sagoth’s overwrought storytelling. Between the propulsive riffs and sweeping melodies, I’m immediately absorbed into the experience with every listen, and that’s to say nothing of the engaging and often unpredictable songwriting. In most years, The Savage Sword would handily take the crown for best power metal release. However…
#1. Fellowship // The Skies Above Eternity – You know that little bit of text under my review of The Skies Above Eternity that says “Rating: 4.0/5.0?” That number is technically correct per the AMG style guide, but what that number can’t account for is the fact that The Skies Above Eternity is a record I’ll be listening to for the rest of my life. 2022’s The Saberlight Chronicles is a true 5.0/5.0 by any objective or subjective metric, and while The Skies Above Eternity is not as good from a technical standpoint, it fully recaptures the strengths that made its predecessor a modern power metal icon. Fellowship’s debut may have had higher and more frequent peaks, but The Skies Above Eternity excels through consistency and conciseness. The band’s trademark earnestness, vulnerability, and impeccable sense of melodic craft can be felt in every second of the experience. It doesn’t matter whether this record is the best material Fellowship is capable of producing because it warms me in the exact same way they’ve been doing since their first EP, making The Skies Above Eternity one of my most treasured records by default. This album may be a 4.0 in my brain, but it’s a 4.5 in my heart and a 5.0 in my soul.
Song o’ the Year
Fellowship’s “Hold Up Your Hearts (Again)” – I was present in the audience when Fellowship debuted this song live, and everyone was so on board with the silliness of its title that we enthusiastically welcomed it into the Fellowship canon with a communal sea of heart hands. It doesn’t top “Glint” as my favorite Fellowship song, but its concentrated formula of speedy Euro-power metal and the lyrics’ pitch-perfect shonen anime energy handily clear second place status.
Disappointment o’ the Year
Various “Artists” – The Continued Proliferation of Crappy AI Album “Art” – This blog has not adopted a formal stance on albums featuring generative AI artwork, nor do I feel it needs to. But this is my list, and I’m taking the opportunity to say that if I get so much as a whiff of AI coming off of an album going into 2025, I won’t be giving it the time of day, much less a review. It is unfathomable to think some musicians can devote so much time and creative energy into creating an album, only to hold zero value in the image that is supposed to be introducing that album to the world. In fact, if an album features an AI-generated cover, I automatically assume that the devaluation of art permeates the music itself in some form. Either pay a fucking artist to create an album cover for you, or go outside to take a picture of a cool tree or something and slap a Photoshop filter on it. If that proves too difficult, the public domain is your friend. If it’s good enough for Bolt Thrower, it’s sure as hell good enough for your shitty bedroom black metal project.
#2024 #40WattSun #ABurialAtSea #Alcest #andEldritchElitistSTopTenIshOf2024 #Aquilus #At1980 #Beardfish #BlackCurse #BloodIncantation #CruceSignatus #CryptSermon #Dissimulator #Dool #ElCuervoS #Fellowship #Galneryus #GardensTaleS #Hamferð #Huntsmen #InVain #Iotunn #Kalax #Kanonenfieber #LabyrinthusStellarum #Lists #Listurnalia #MadderMortem #Meer #MegaColossus #Monkey3 #MorgulBlade #Myrath #NemedianChronicles #OakAshThorn #Opeth #Selbst #Sidewinder #SleepytimeGorillaMuseum #Soulmass #Syst3mGlitch #TheVisionBleak #Vredehammer #Walg
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Abundant
Hello Friends!
These past two weeks have seen me spending all of my free time picking raspberries or working on a dharma talk for my sangha this last Thursday. Now I am busy in the garden and catching up with all the things I let slide.
A heat dome arrived today and we are under an excessive heat warning through at least July 14th. High heat and high humidity. I remember the good old days when I first moved to Minnesota in 1994. Summers then were so much cooler. More than five or six days of 90F/32C or higher heat was rare. Now I’m looking at 90F/32C or hotter for this entire week, and it isn’t even the first string of excessive heat days we’ve had. The climate is thoroughly broken.
There is no rain in the forecast, the heat dome is keeping the rain away, so I will need to hand water the garden from the rain barrels. That promises to be a sweaty affair.
The garden has thus far been abundant. Those raspberries:
We’ve had so many this year! We’re putting them in our morning porridge, smoothies, making small batch jam, and I donated some to my neighborhood food shelf (Have also donated a lot of arugula, some herbs and onions). And still the freezer is packed with them. The freezer is also packed with rhubarb. James is going to be doing some canning, but we are also considering a small chest freezer for the basement.
The peas were doing great this year until the first heat wave rolled through at the end of June and the peas decided it was too hot for them. The heat followed by rain nearly every day for over a week, kick started the rest of the garden though.
All the squashes are vining and flowering, the cucumbers are vining and starting to flower, the citron melons are vining but I haven’t seen flowers yet. And the beans! The pole beans have all reached the top of their trellises and are reaching for the sky. I’m picking a cereal bowl full of yellow wax beans nearly every day. All the cherry tomatoes are covered in fruit and I look at them daily, anticipating when they will be ripe. The other tomato plants have tiny fruit that will take a while yet because they are all paste and slicing tomatoes. I can hardly wait for the first bite of sandwich with a fresh from the garden slice of tomato on it. Mmmmm.
Tired of poles falling over during big thunderstorms, James and I built two sturdy arches this spring. I’ve got pole beans climbing up one side and winter squash climbing the other side:
I am pleased with them and I think I will add a third next spring. I took this photo a week ago. The beans and the squash are at the top of the arch today. The beans here are brown resilient beans. They began life four years ago as bush beans and last year they decided to revert to pole beans. The squash is green striped cushaw. I have not grown it before. The leaves are gigantic and so are the vines. Here’s some flowers and bees on the vine this morning:
The garden has also gifted me with a volunteer pumpkin. Last year I planted saved seeds from Naked Bear pumpkin I had grown the previous year, not realizing this variety of pepita pumpkin is a hybrid. I got one small pumpkin last summer whose seeds were regular seeds, not pepita seeds. It cooked up as a nice, not sweet, pumpkin. The vine also had a giant elongated pumpkin that a squirrel ripped apart just before it was ripe. The squirrel scattered some of the seeds, and one of them sprouted. The vine is vigorous and I have to keep redirecting it out of the garden path and away from a tomato plant. So far it has two pumpkins and I spied a third tiny one this morning:
I am strategizing on how I can protect them later in the season. I have no idea how big they will get, whether the seeds inside will be shell-free, or how sweet the flesh will be, but I look forward to finding out!
Here’s a couple big view photos of the garden this year I took about two weeks ago:
This year we’ve made milkweed flower jelly and daylily flower jelly. Both are delicate floral flavors that are lovely on toast made from, for example, this medjool date-sunflower-orange tea sourdough bread I baked:
Instead of using plain water in the recipe I made sweet orange tea and used the tea. So delicious! And now I am wondering what other teas might go good in various sourdough loaves. Whole wheat chai spice? Multigrain green tea? Cinnamon-raisin chamomile? It would be fun to try mint but I am not certain what bread I would pair it with, maybe a seedy Danish rye?
The chickens are doing great. Baba and Nanny are now three months old:
They have their big girl voices now, no more peeping. They are friendly and curious and will eat from my hand, which meant Baba got the huge grasshopper I caught this morning much to Sia’s chagrin. Sia is head chicken, for now. I suspect once the witches are full size, Baba will challenge Sia for top of the pecking order.
And there you have it. If it is hot where you are, stay safe and find somewhere cool to be. Take care everyone!
#BabaYaga #blackRaspberries #brownResilientBeans #cushawSquash #excessiveHeat #gardenArches #heatDome #NannyOgg #pumpkins #sourdough #yellowWaxBeans -
Foul and Fowl
Foul
ICE continues to terrorize the Twin Cities, particularly Minneapolis. You have probably seen video and heard stories. Another person was shot this last week. DHS is saying he attacked them and then tried to run away so they shot him in the leg. Video and witness evidence is now coming out that reveals the situation may have been completely different—surprise! Don’t believe any story coming from the federal government regarding what is happening here.
ICE is operating outside the law. They detain U.S. Citizens. ICE detained a 17-year-old kid working his shift at my neighborhood Target. He is a U.S. citizen and had his passport in his pocket, but ICE refused to verify this until 8 miles later when they then dumped him out of their SUV in a Walmart parking lot.
Then there is Garrison Gibson, a legal Liberian immigrant. ICE unlawfully busted down his front door with a battering ram after he refused to leave the house or open the door because ICE did not have a signed judicial warrant. Gibson was home with his wife, daughter and niece.
There are confirmed reports of ICE blocking in the cars of observers and then charging them with obstruction. ICE is also going to protesters’ houses trying to intimidate them and making threats. Then they are using tear gas on peaceful protesters and others who happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. One family’s car was tear gassed and their 6-month-old baby who was in the car stopped breathing and had to be rushed to the hospital. Now they have to pay hospital bills and make extensive repairs to their car. A Judge ruled Friday that ICE is not allowed to use tear gas on peaceful protesters. Not sure that will even mean anything.
Meanwhile Keith Ellison, Minnesota Attorney General, has issued an alert regarding DHS digital surveillance and how to protect your privacy. The state, Minneapolis, and St Paul are suing the Federal government citing constitutional violations of the first and tenth amendments. And the Department of Justice has launched investigations of Governor Walz and Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey on the grounds that they are impeding operations of the federal government. However, Jonathan Ross, the ICE agent who murdered Renee Good, is not being investigated or charged with anything by the federal government.
But Minnesotans will not be silenced. If anything there are more and more people out on the streets and providing mutual aid. Monday night James and I did a virtual ICE Watch training from States at the Core via Defend612. There were 1,700 people on the call. They continue to offer trainings every few days. They made it a point to say that what is happening has nothing to do with immigration. Immigration is the excuse the Trump administration is using to intimidate and militarize cities in order to consolidate authoritarian power. I have not gone out on neighborhood patrol–it’s a bit challenging to do by bicycle in winter–but I carry a whistle with me whenever I leave the house and keep a lookout for ICE so I can make reports to my rapid response group.
People here are standing up against heavily armed and sometimes poorly trained agents. They are fighting back with video documentation, whistles, car horns, peaceful protest that includes marching in the streets singing, and ok, sometimes throwing snowballs. People are also pouring water on streets and sidewalks where ICE is gathering making some real ice. There are lots of videos and photos going around of ICE agents slipping and falling.
We are now getting an arctic blast, it is that time of the year here. Temperatures are going sub-zero F / -17C. I saw someone report today that they were at Duluth Trading Company behind a couple men who were spending $5,000 on cold weather gear.
Apparently, defense tactics are working because The New Republic is reporting that the Department of Homeland Security is having trouble finding agents willing to come to Minneapolis. There are currently 3,000 agents in the state, mainly centered in the Twin Cities. Now Trump is threatening to invoke the Insurrection Act. There are 1,500 active-duty military troops on standby in Alaska ready to invade my state. It is a great irony that the President is interested in protecting protesters in Iran while suppressing protests in his own country.
I have a friend who is Vietnamese and a U.S. citizen who is worried she will be stopped by ICE. I have another friend who is a citizen and immigrant from Brazil who is also terrified.
If you are wondering what you can do to support Minnesota, advocate with your electeds to stop funding ICE and to stand up against the Trump administration. If you are looking to make a monetary donation to help support the immigrant community here, some good groups are Isaiah, Neighborhood House, Minnesota Immigrant Rights Committee, and ACLU Minnesota. Stand With Minnesota has additional lists of places who are supporting people with rental assistance, food, diapers, and other supplies.
As if all that isn’t enough, Jake Lang, white supremacist and pardoned January 6th insurrectionist, came to Minneapolis yesterday and held a rally downtown outside city hall. There were more counterprotestors than there were people at the rally. He was sprayed with silly string, but things got a bit out of control when people began pelting him with snowballs and water balloons. Lang is now claiming on social media that he was “lynched” and stabbed. He did not go to any hospital afterwards and photos show him leaving the rally with scrapes and bruises but no apparent stab wounds.
Fowl
I think I have mentioned here a few months ago after Mrs. Dashwood, the last of the original Dashwood chicken flock, died, that James and I had decided we are not going to welcome any additional chickens to our dwindling—now 2 chickens—flock. I’ve been feeling a little sad about that because I enjoy sharing my life with chickens, but we decided since we don’t keep them for their eggs, the growing expense of taking care of them just wasn’t worth it.
Then two weeks ago I got an email from Eggplant, the place we bought the Dashwoods and the Nuggets, letting me know that chick orders are now open. I clicked, just to look at the pictures. Honest! But gosh darn, if those birds aren’t adorable and beautiful. I started thinking maybe…and floated the idea to James.
He frowned but said he would think about it.
A week later I checked in with him on his thoughts and he said he was fine with it but not all that interested. I said we both had to actually want them. He said he’d think about it some more.
Early in the week I checked in again and he said he was a go! Friday I placed our order for two chicks, a speckled Sussex (James’s choice) and a pearl onyx (my choice). They will be The Witches. James has already named the Sussex Nanny Ogg after one of the witches in Terry Pratchett’s Discworld books. I have named the pearl onyx Baba Yaga who lives in a chicken-legged hut. We will be welcoming the baby chicks on April 3rd.
It’s nice to have something good to look forward to.
I’m behind on comments and blog visiting—been kind of distracted! But I am endeavoring to catch up over the next days.
Enjoy this Woody Guthrie song to send you on your way: All You Fascists Bound to Lose
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VwcKwGS7OSQ
#BabaYaga #Chickens #fascism #Immigration #mutualAid #NannyOgg #protests #tearGas #WoodyGuthrie
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🚨 New #Podcast Episode Out Now! This week we explore the #mythology and #lore of the #constellation Sagitta--the Arrow!
This episode features:
🪦 A Stone demon from Sumerian lore
📈 Hercules failing upward (what else is new)
👁️ CYCLOPSES & a throw back to Asclepius
🧝 ... Legolas?!
And more 🏹🏹🏹🏹!
Listen here or on your favorite podcast player: https://starrytimepodcast.podbean.com/e/sagitta-myths-and-retconstellations/
#StarLore #Storytelling #Tolkien #Legolas #Hercules #Heracles #GreekMythology #Sagitta #Constellations #Stories #Myth #Lore #mythology #SumerianLore #retcons
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Argul – Soledad & Orgullo Review By Creeping Ivy
You’ve likely never heard of him, but Mauricio Guerrero has been a busy man of late. I hadn’t either, until Peruvian stoner-doom band Illwind, featuring lead guitar from Guerrero, dropped their debut album in early July. Clarkkent’s positive review of The Unfolding at the End of Light drew my attention to this ‘chill record with some outstanding moments,’ many of which arrive via Guerrero’s transportive solos. Not two months later, Guerrero returns with another stoner/doom debut: Argul’s Soledad & Orgullo (‘Solitude & Pride’). In Argul, Guerrero shares guitar and vocal duties with Jose María Venturi, both of whom formed the band in 2014. Filling out the lineup are Peruvian scene veterans Jian Holmes (bass) and Alonso Guerrero (drums).1 In snatching Soledad & Orgullo from the promo bin, I was quite curious whether Argul’s debut would continue Guerrero’s hot streak or flood Peru’s stoner-doom market with middling/subpar wares.
Argul build their musical edifice on doom and stoner cornerstones, old and new. Based on Soledad & Orgullo’s cover art alone, you wouldn’t be wrong in guessing that this Peruvian quartet primarily channels early Black Sabbath. While its sylvan visual aesthetics scream ‘self-titled debut!’, Argul’s debut more closely parallels the tones and riff-work of Master of Reality. Indeed, M. Guerrero and Venturi generally keep the guitar lines dark, slow, and bluesy (“Ritual”), but they also bust out some livelier boogies that get the head boppin’ (“Hor Hodin”). The duo frequently melodicize in funerary modes (“Animal Dog”), sure to bring joy to those wallowing in sorrow at the extinction of old Pallbearer. And in their droniest moments, Argul recall Matt Pike’s minimalist axe-work in Sleep (“Engendro”). Soledad & Orgullo’s artwork perfectly portends its open, earthy music; the production is spaciously organic, and the interplay between the guitars, Holmes’s exploratory bass runs, and the backbeat drumming feels refreshingly present. You can hear minor deviations during rhythmic shifts, which is not a criticism—the album sounds like a well-curated live band.
Vocally, Argul avoid the bombast frequently found in doom and the coarseness often favored in stoner metal/rock. Instead, M. Guerrero and Venturi utilize not quite reverb-drenched ethereal lilts, frequently harmonizing with one another. This isn’t to say that Argul are peerless in how they drape voices over doom/stoner metal. Their approach reminds me of the way bands like Windhand and REZN summon ghostly atmospheres through singing, emphasizing the somber, resigned aesthetics of the genre. Soledad & Orgullo doesn’t deal out memorable hooks like the above-mentioned acts, but M. Guerrero and Venturi stitch a warm vocal blanket that’s enchanting in its own right. Other than the occasional sound clip,2 which took me out of the album’s aura, Argul have a compelling vocal duo on their hands that could be further enhanced with more attention to memorability.
Soledad & Orgullo plays as a consistently enjoyable album, though it suffers from some issues. For starters, the album can be divided into stronger/weaker cuts. Epic opener “Ritual” sits in the stronger category, itself opening with an instantly striking descent that’s harmonized to Pallbearian heights. “Hor Hodin,” a shorter track, also triumphs, developing absolutely delectable Iommian shuffles. Meanwhile, “Engendro” and closer “Animal Dog” are comparatively weaker tracks, though they aren’t bad by any means. Soledad & Orgullo can also be knocked for its occasionally overdone songcraft. While “Ritual” mostly succeeds as a long song, “Animal Dog” definitely drags at times. Nevertheless, this four-track album runs for a reasonable 31 minutes, if you don’t count the concluding bonus track. With “Kamog,” Soledad & Orgullo clocks in at 45 minutes. Yes, that’s right—the bonus track (which could be trimmed) adds a whopping 15 minutes to the runtime.3
On the whole, though, count Soledad & Orgullo as another solid stoner-doom offering from Mauricio Guerrero. He and Venturi are a talented duo that know how to dress irresistible riffs in morose guitar melodies and gossamer vocal harmonies. While Argul’s songwriting is a bit hit-and-miss, they possess a captivating sound out of the gate that bodes well for the future. Argul should be proud of this debut, which fans of doom and stoner metal should certainly sample.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
#2026 #30 #Argul #Aug26 #BlackSabbath #DoomMetal #HardRock #Pallbearer #PersonalRecords #PeruvianMetal #Review #Reviews #REZN #Sleep #SoledadOrgullo #StonerRock #Windhand
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 21st, 2026 -
I wrote in May 2011:
- Dispensationalism leads to churches setting up all-powerful pastors with no accountability or elders to handle things when he's dead and gone.
- Dispensationalism leads to churches meeting in strip malls or movie theaters instead of building stone buildings to last a hundred years so their children don't have to worry about paying for facilities.
- Dispensationalism leads to U.S. foreign policy in the Middle East that promotes inequality by favoring Israel "at all costs" even when they perform illegal crimes against humanity.
- Dispensationalism leads to U.S. environmental policy that is only concerned about the short-term, endorsing oil as fuel since it doesn't matter if it runs out because we won't be here anymore.
- Dispensationalism leads to a U.S. environmental policy that doesn't care about raping the environment and exterminating species, because it's all going to burn anyway.
- Dispensationalism leads to American Christians getting deep into debt to support their "prosperity gospel" lifestyle, since they expect they'll never have to pay the money back anyway.
- Dispensationalism leads to American Christians failing to provide an education or inheritance for their children since Jesus is coming back tomorrow anyway.https://blog.devlord.io/2011/05/20/against-dispensationalism/
-
I wrote in May 2011:
- Dispensationalism leads to churches setting up all-powerful pastors with no accountability or elders to handle things when he's dead and gone.
- Dispensationalism leads to churches meeting in strip malls or movie theaters instead of building stone buildings to last a hundred years so their children don't have to worry about paying for facilities.
- Dispensationalism leads to U.S. foreign policy in the Middle East that promotes inequality by favoring Israel "at all costs" even when they perform illegal crimes against humanity.
- Dispensationalism leads to U.S. environmental policy that is only concerned about the short-term, endorsing oil as fuel since it doesn't matter if it runs out because we won't be here anymore.
- Dispensationalism leads to a U.S. environmental policy that doesn't care about raping the environment and exterminating species, because it's all going to burn anyway.
- Dispensationalism leads to American Christians getting deep into debt to support their "prosperity gospel" lifestyle, since they expect they'll never have to pay the money back anyway.
- Dispensationalism leads to American Christians failing to provide an education or inheritance for their children since Jesus is coming back tomorrow anyway.https://blog.devlord.io/2011/05/20/against-dispensationalism/
-
I wrote in May 2011:
- Dispensationalism leads to churches setting up all-powerful pastors with no accountability or elders to handle things when he's dead and gone.
- Dispensationalism leads to churches meeting in strip malls or movie theaters instead of building stone buildings to last a hundred years so their children don't have to worry about paying for facilities.
- Dispensationalism leads to U.S. foreign policy in the Middle East that promotes inequality by favoring Israel "at all costs" even when they perform illegal crimes against humanity.
- Dispensationalism leads to U.S. environmental policy that is only concerned about the short-term, endorsing oil as fuel since it doesn't matter if it runs out because we won't be here anymore.
- Dispensationalism leads to a U.S. environmental policy that doesn't care about raping the environment and exterminating species, because it's all going to burn anyway.
- Dispensationalism leads to American Christians getting deep into debt to support their "prosperity gospel" lifestyle, since they expect they'll never have to pay the money back anyway.
- Dispensationalism leads to American Christians failing to provide an education or inheritance for their children since Jesus is coming back tomorrow anyway.https://blog.devlord.io/2011/05/20/against-dispensationalism/
-
I wrote in May 2011:
- Dispensationalism leads to churches setting up all-powerful pastors with no accountability or elders to handle things when he's dead and gone.
- Dispensationalism leads to churches meeting in strip malls or movie theaters instead of building stone buildings to last a hundred years so their children don't have to worry about paying for facilities.
- Dispensationalism leads to U.S. foreign policy in the Middle East that promotes inequality by favoring Israel "at all costs" even when they perform illegal crimes against humanity.
- Dispensationalism leads to U.S. environmental policy that is only concerned about the short-term, endorsing oil as fuel since it doesn't matter if it runs out because we won't be here anymore.
- Dispensationalism leads to a U.S. environmental policy that doesn't care about raping the environment and exterminating species, because it's all going to burn anyway.
- Dispensationalism leads to American Christians getting deep into debt to support their "prosperity gospel" lifestyle, since they expect they'll never have to pay the money back anyway.
- Dispensationalism leads to American Christians failing to provide an education or inheritance for their children since Jesus is coming back tomorrow anyway.https://blog.devlord.io/2011/05/20/against-dispensationalism/
-
I wrote in May 2011:
- Dispensationalism leads to churches setting up all-powerful pastors with no accountability or elders to handle things when he's dead and gone.
- Dispensationalism leads to churches meeting in strip malls or movie theaters instead of building stone buildings to last a hundred years so their children don't have to worry about paying for facilities.
- Dispensationalism leads to U.S. foreign policy in the Middle East that promotes inequality by favoring Israel "at all costs" even when they perform illegal crimes against humanity.
- Dispensationalism leads to U.S. environmental policy that is only concerned about the short-term, endorsing oil as fuel since it doesn't matter if it runs out because we won't be here anymore.
- Dispensationalism leads to a U.S. environmental policy that doesn't care about raping the environment and exterminating species, because it's all going to burn anyway.
- Dispensationalism leads to American Christians getting deep into debt to support their "prosperity gospel" lifestyle, since they expect they'll never have to pay the money back anyway.
- Dispensationalism leads to American Christians failing to provide an education or inheritance for their children since Jesus is coming back tomorrow anyway.https://blog.devlord.io/2011/05/20/against-dispensationalism/
-
The 1st Adam in the Hebrew Scriptures #2 Beginning of mankind
Monyash Well Dressing 2009, In the Beginning God Created Man. Clay tablet decorated with coloured petals and stones.After the fifth period in creation the sixth session brought forth ‘living souls‘ or ‘living things’ or ‘living beings’ which could multiply, making the earth having more of their sort. They were not in the image of God, but on the ‘sixth day‘ the Divine Creator decided to make some living being after His image.
This image and likeness of God in man is expounded, Ephesians 4:24, where it is written that man was created after God in righteousness and true holiness, meaning by these two words, all perfection, as wisdom, truth, innocence, power, etc. (Annotations in the 1599 Geneva Patriot’s Edition)
24 And put on the new man, which 1after God is created unto 2righteousness, and 3true holiness.
1 After the image of God.
2 The effect and end of the new creation.
3 Not fained nor counterfeit. (Annotations in the 1599 Geneva Patriot’s Edition)Man had received everything in him to be happy living for always. Though he was not immortal. The first living being, “a soul” that would be called “man”, was receiving a higher status than the previous created living beings. Man was made in the image of God, indicating that Adam had some similar elements of God and being in the likeness of the Most High Elohim he received in this way a sort of “royal authority” to govern over God’s creation.
All over the world we can find creation myths, showing that the “being” of it makes only sense when there is a reason for “being”. It is that sense of life so many people are looking for. Genesis uses a similar approach found in other ancient documents: Existence depends on function.
Jackson Wu looks at creation and John H. Walton’s view in this way
Genesis indeed explains the origins of the world but it tells a particular kind of story. It provides a “functional” (rather than a “material”) account of the world origins.
and continues with a good example
If I move beds and dressers out of a “bedroom” and replace it with a desk and file cabinets, what would we say? A “bedroom” no longer exists. I have now “created” a office or study.
Similarly, Genesis 1 explains how God created the world to be a sacred space, a Temple where He would dwell with his people. This view of Genesis helps us to see who God is, who we are, and God’s design for the world. {When Did God Make China?}
That original manly being was “to be red” (=Adam). Adam occurs approximately 500 times with the meaning of mankind. In the opening chapters of the Bereshith (the Book of the Beginnings or Genesis), with three exceptions (1:26; 2:5,20) it has the definite article indicating “man” or “the man” rather than “Adam”.
The first undisputed occurrence of the name of Adam is in the genealogy of Genesis 5:1-5.Adam and Eve with Cain and Abel – Catacomb of the Via Latina
1 This is the 1book of the generations of Adam. In the day that God created Adam, in the 2likeness of God made he him,
2 Male and female created he them, and blessed them, and called their name 1Adam in the day that they were created.
3 Now Adam lived an hundred and thirty years, and begat a child in his own 1likeness after his image, and called his name Seth.
4 aAnd the days of Adam, after he had begotten Seth, were eight hundred years, and he begat sons and daughters.
5 So all the days that Adam lived, were nine hundred and thirty years, and he died.The 1st Adam indicates to be the first living creature of “red blood” (hence red blooded or adam), flesh and bones. Of necessity that first fleshly creature out of which mankind would grow could be called the first created man or “the man” and the designation is equivalent to a proper name: Adam.
This first soul or living being, came from the earth, and by receiving the Breath of God came to live. Animated by the divine breath created in the image of God was allowed to have dominion over all other life, animate and inanimate. He is other than God, with no actual physical descent from the Supreme Being or from any inferior deity. Notice also how only by the creation of this human being is mentioned that God “breathed … the breath of life”
Genesis 2:
7 The Lord God also 1made the man 2of the dust of the ground, and breathed in his face breath of life, band the man was a living soul.
8 And the Lord God planted a garden Eastward in 1Eden, and there he put the man whom he had made.
9 (For out of the ground made the Lord God to grow every tree pleasant to the sight, and good for meat: the 1tree of life also in the midst of the garden, 2and the tree of knowledge of good and of evil.Genesis 1:
Satan Watching the Caresses of Adam and Eve — William Blake (1757-1827); William Blake’s illustrations of “Paradise Lost”, 1808.
27 Thus God created the man in his image: in the image of God created he him: he created them imale and female.
28 And God 1blessed them, and God said to them, jBring forth fruit, and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it, and rule over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the heaven, and over every beast that moveth upon the earth.
29 And God said, Behold, I have given unto you 1every herb bearing seed, which is upon all the earth, and every tree, wherein is the fruit of a tree bearing seed: kthat shall be to you for meat.
30 Likewise to every beast of the earth, and to every fowl of the heaven, and to everything that moveth upon the earth, which hath life in itself, every green herb shall be for meat, and it was so.
31 lAnd God saw all that he had made, and lo, it was very good. So the evening and the morning were the sixth day.Genesis 2:
Man Made in the Image of God, as in Genesis 1:26 to 2:3, illustration from a Bible card published 1906 by the Providence Lithograph Company (Photo credit: Wikipedia)18 Also the Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be himself alone: I will make him an help 1meet for him.
19 So the Lord God formed of the earth every beast of the field, and every fowl of the heaven, and brought them unto the 1man to see how he would call them: for howsoever the man named the living creature, so was the name thereof.
20 The man therefore gave names unto all cattle, and to the fowl of the heaven, and to every beast of the field: but for Adam found he not an helper meet for him.
21 Therefore the Lord God caused an heavy sleep to fall upon the man, and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh in stead thereof.
22 And the rib which the Lord God had taken from the man, 1made he a 2woman, and brought her to the man.
23 Then the man said, cThis now is bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh. She shall be called 1woman, because she was taken out of the man.
24 dTherefore shall man leave 1his father and his mother, and shall cleave to his wife, and they shall be one flesh.
25 And they were both naked, the man and his wife, and they were not 1ashamed.The Divine Creator had out of nothing or out of the blackness created elements which became ordered and received a function. As such the Most High Elohim Jehovah is the One God Who brings order out of (primordial) chaos and as such also being the God of order. [Chaos representing “non-order,” not “disorder.”]
Man being set in God’s Garden, the Garden of Eden, got the allowance to name the other things but also got the obligation of obedience to the divine Will, in connection with the tree of knowledge of good and evil.
When you follow the storytelling of creation you shall find God speaking or bringing out words, and then matter came into being. Every time it was God’s Word that brought action and life. Each stage of creation is also approved with the words
“And God saw that it was good” (Genesis 1: 10, 12, 18, 21, 25, cf. 31),
and the inference is that the creation of man was its consummation and climax.
God wanted to have His Kingdom full of plants, animals and human beings in his likeness. He wanted to see a beautiful world where all of His creatures could live in peace with each other.
The first Adam wanted a partner and God made him one. This person taken out of man, the mannin became the first woman and was to be Adam’s partner giving him children as part of God’s family.
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* Bible quotes from 1599 Geneva Patriot’s Edition
Preceding article: The 1st Adam in the Hebrew Scriptures #1 Beginning of everything
Next: The 1st Adam in the Hebrew Scriptures #3 With his partner
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Additional reading:
- Looking for a primary cause and a goal that can not offer philosophers existing beliefs
- The World framed by the Word of God
- God’s Word Framing universe
- Creation Creator and Creation
- Creation of the earth out of something
- From waste and void coming into being by God’s Word
- The very very beginning 1 Creating Gods
- The very very beginning 2 The Word and words
- Genesis 1:26 God said “Let us make”
- The very very beginning 1 Creating Gods
- Scripture about Creation and Creator Deity
- The very very beginning 2 The Word and words
- Something from nothing
- Means of creations
- Coming to the creation of human beings in the image of God
- Creation of the earth out of something
- Creation of the earth and man #1 Planet for living beings in a pre-Adamic world
- Creation of the earth and man #10 Formation of man #2 Mortal bodies and Tartarian habitation
- Creation of the earth and man #11 Formation of man #3 Infant salvation and non-elect infant damnation
- Creation of the earth and man #12 Formation of man #4 Constitution of man
- Genesis 1 story does not take away an evolution
- Means of creations
- Creator and Blogger God 1 Emptiness and mouvement
- Creator and Blogger God 2 Image and likeness
- Creator and Blogger God 5 Things to tellCreation purpose and warranty
- Trusting, Faith, calling and Ascribing to Jehovah #3 Voice of God #1 Creator and His Prophets
- We all are changed into the same image from glory to glory
- Genesis – Story of creation 1 Genesis 1:1-25 Creation of things
- Creation of the earth and man #2 Evil Angels and moments of creation
- Genesis – Story of creation 3 Genesis 2:1-15 Story of Adam and Eve
- Creation purpose and warranty
- Divine Plan and an Imperfect creation
- Between Alpha and Omega – The plan of creation
- Necessity of a revelation of creation 2 Organisation of a system of things
- Story of Jesus’ birth begins long before the New Testament
- Man his beginnings or emerging, continuation, evolution and anthropology
- Old Earth creationists and other conservative Christians denying any evolution
- Al-Fatiha [The Opening] Süra 1: 4-7 Merciful Lord of the Creation to show us the right path
- Forbidden Fruit in the Midst of the Garden 1
- Forbidden Fruit in the Midst of the Garden 2
- Forbidden Fruit in the Midst of the Garden 3
- Why God permits evil
- An anarchistic reading of the Bible (2)—Creation and what follows
- Divine Plan and an Imperfect creation
- A look at the Failing man
- God’s Plan, Purpose and teachings
- Not about personal salvation but about a bigger Plan
- Because men choose to go their own way
- A Must Know Truth
- Men as God
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Further reading of interest
- A Unification of Creation and Evolution
- We Are Only Complete In Him
- An anarchistic reading of the Bible (2) – Creation and what follows
- Evolution is God’s creation!!!!
- Stop Listening to the story!!!Facts on God’s true creation!!!!!!!
- The Documentary Hypothesis
- The Genesis Sermon Series
- Simple Wisdom for Tuesday
- Cookie a day: Topic-God The Creator
- Breathing In With Adam, Breathing Out to God
- A Holy day…
- All creation speaks of God’s goodness: Psalm 19
- Did You Ever Wonder
- N T Wright, Historicity of Adam
- Adam: Something is Missing
- Two new lessons made October 10, 2016
- Were Adam and Eve Historical Figures?
- What is the big mistake of Adam and Eve? (part 1)
- What is the big mistake of Adam and Eve? (part 2)
- Eve as a symbol for the Church
- Why people suffer
- Be Skeptical of the One Who Offers You Power
- Adamned
- Sleep
- Hope Thou in GOD
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Related articles
- Marriage, Relationships, and Love – The Salty Trail
- New Kingdom, New vision
- Adam and the Genesis Road
- Old Earth creationists and other conservative Christians denying any evolution
- Does Philippians 2:5-11 mean that Jesus had the nature of God?
- Wanting to know more about basic teachings of Christadelphianism
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#1Adam #Adam #AdamAndEve #BeginningOfTheUniverse #BookOfGenesis #Chaos #Creation #CreationMyth #DivineCreator #Eve #GardenOfEden #Genesis #Genesis1 #GodOfOrder #GodSpeaking #Human #HumanBeing #Image #ImageOfGod #InImageOfGod #LivingBeing #LivingCreature #LivingSoul #Man #ManninOr1Woman #ObedienceToGod #OriginOfTheUniverse #Temple #TempleOfGod #TreeOfKnowledgeOfGoodAndEvil #Universe #WordOfGod
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Give Me Back My Face
(Or The Wrong Skull of Petrarch)
I had not wished to go to Arquà.
There are villages which seem made for the living, and villages which, though inhabited, have long since given themselves over to the dead. Arquà was of the latter kind. Its stones were too old to be merely stone. Its narrow lanes did not wind so much as remember. The olive trees, twisted by centuries of patient weather, leaned over the walls like ancient witnesses too weary to speak, and the cypresses, those solemn candles of the graveyard, stood black and thin against a November sky the color of old pewter.
I arrived near dusk, when all things are least certain.
The bells had just finished striking the hour, though their sound remained in the air, a bronze trembling caught between hill and cloud. Below, the Euganean hills rolled away in vapor and fading green; above, the first cold stars appeared as if pricked through a shroud. The village did not receive me. It endured me. A few shuttered windows glowed faintly. A dog barked once and then, as if reminded of some local sorrow, fell silent.
I had come because of the tomb.
It was not my profession to disturb graves, though I confess I had spent much of my life disturbing the dead by other means. I was a scholar of poetry, which is to say a licensed trespasser among the bones of vanished souls. I had handled Petrarch’s letters until I imagined I knew the warmth of his hand. I had traced the fever of his longing through sonnet after sonnet, until the name Laura became not a woman, nor a ghost, but a wound preserved in amber. I had believed, in my arrogance, that to study a man’s words was to approach his face.
Then came the news.
They had opened his tomb.
They had found the body.
They had found the skull.
But the skull was not his.
From the first report, I was seized by a feeling I could neither dignify as scholarly curiosity nor dismiss as superstition. It was not merely that some fraud, some theft, some accident of centuries had occurred. Such things are common in the traffic of relics and remembrance. The saints have been divided among churches like inheritances among quarreling sons. The bones of kings have been misplaced. Philosophers have lost their heads, literally and otherwise. But Petrarch — Petrarch, the singer of absence, the architect of longing, the man who made Europe fall in love with its own inward wound — lying in his grave beneath a stranger’s skull!
The thought took hold of me.
It was as if the earth itself had composed a final metaphor.
I had known grief. I had known the peculiar loneliness of the learned man, surrounded by books and yet accompanied by no human breath. I had known what it was to love an idea more faithfully than a person, and then to wake in the night, chilled by the suspicion that the idea had fed upon the person until nothing living remained. But this discovery stirred in me another kind of dread: the terror that we are all, in the end, divided from our own faces; that the world remembers our names, preserves our labors, recites our words, and yet places upon us the wrong head.
The churchyard lay under a dim wash of moonlight when I first stood before the tomb. It rose there in its stone dignity, aloof and mute, as though it had not recently been accused of deception. I laid my hand upon it, and the cold entered my palm with such sudden intimacy that I withdrew.
There was a smell in the air — rain, cypress, old masonry, and something faintly sweet beneath it all, the breath of opened earth. I had smelled it before in crypts. It is not decay exactly. Decay is honest. This was older, more ceremonial, like time itself exhaling.
“Signore?”
The voice startled me.
An old custodian had approached from the side of the church. He was bent but not frail, wrapped in a dark coat, with a face folded by years into lines of permanent suspicion. He carried a lantern, though the electric lamps had already been lit near the path. Its flame moved nervously behind glass.
“You should not be here after dark,” he said.
“I came to see the tomb.”
“So do many.”
“I came because of the skull.”
At that, his expression altered. Not surprise — he had heard the word too often by then — but a guarded weariness, as if the skull had become another inhabitant of the village, unwelcome yet impossible to evict.
“They talk too much,” he muttered.
“Who?”
“The professors. The journalists. The visitors. They come with cameras and questions. They ask where it is. They ask whose it is. They ask whether we are ashamed.” He spat gently into the gravel. “As if a village can be ashamed for seven hundred years of dust.”
“You believe the skull was stolen?”
He lifted the lantern. Its weak amber light touched the carved stone and died there.
“I believe,” he said slowly, “that the dead do not enjoy being corrected.”
A wind passed through the cypresses.
I ought to have smiled. In another place, among colleagues, with wine and light and the protection of irony, I might have repeated his sentence as rustic superstition. But there, before that stone, beneath that moon, with the poet’s name cut into the dark, the words entered me like a needle.
The old man looked at me more closely.
“You are one of them?”
“A scholar.”
“That is what I said.”
He turned as if to leave, but after a few steps stopped.
“You love him?” he asked.
The question was absurd, and therefore exact.
“I have studied him many years.”
“No,” said the custodian. “I asked if you love him.”
I could not answer.
He nodded, as though my silence had been sufficient.
“Then be careful. It is dangerous to love the dead. They cannot love us back, so they do something worse.”
“What?”
“They let us imagine they do.”
He left me then, the lantern bobbing beside him like a small, failing soul.
I remained until the cold became unbearable.
That night I took a room in a small inn whose walls smelled of woodsmoke and damp plaster. The shutters rattled in their frames. Somewhere below, dishes clinked, chairs scraped, a woman laughed too sharply, and then all domestic sounds withdrew. I sat at a narrow desk beneath a crucifix and attempted to write notes, but each sentence seemed foolish. I had come to compose an essay on Petrarch’s divided remains, perhaps even an elegant meditation on authorship, identity, and the violence of posterity. Yet the page resisted me. The ink looked blacker than ink should look.
At last I opened my worn copy of the Canzoniere.
How many nights had I taken comfort in those poems? Comfort — though they are not comforting. They are restless, fevered, bright with pain. Petrarch does not heal longing; he polishes it until it shines like a blade. He teaches sorrow to speak with courtesy. He builds a chapel inside desire and kneels there, not knowing whether he worships God, Laura, poetry, or himself.
I read until the letters blurred.
Then I heard it.
Not a sound exactly. A pressure.
A faint scratching from within the wall.
I raised my head. The room was still. The crucifix hung motionless. The lamp flame trembled. I listened.
Again: scratch, pause, scratch.
Mice, I told myself. Stone houses are old. Autumn drives small creatures inward. There is nothing in the wall but a mouse.
But then the scratching changed.
It became slower.
Deliberate.
Not the random fret of claws, but the patient tracing of something hard against plaster, as though a fingernail — or a tooth — were writing from the other side.
I stood so quickly that the chair struck the floor behind me.
“Who is there?” I demanded.
The absurdity of speaking to a wall did not occur to me until afterward.
The scratching ceased.
I waited, my breath shallow, my ears filled with the thick pulse of my own blood.
Then, from somewhere very near the headboard, there came a sigh.
It was not the sigh of the living. It had no warmth in it. It was the release of air from a sealed cavity, a sound like a tomb being opened by degrees.
I did not sleep.
By morning I had convinced myself that exhaustion had magnified ordinary noises. Dawn restored the village to postcard innocence. Women opened shutters. A man swept the steps of a shop. The church bell rang, and pigeons rose in a gray flutter from the roofline. The hills were washed in a tender mist. The world had resumed its conspiracy of normalcy.
I returned to the tomb in daylight.
A small group had gathered there: two visitors, a priest, and a younger man from the university whom I recognized from correspondence. His name was Bellini — not the leader of the examination, but one of those useful lesser scholars who carry instruments, arrange permissions, and know far more than official reports admit. He greeted me with professional warmth, though his eyes were tired.
“You came after all,” he said.
“I could not stay away.”
“No one can, it seems. The wrong skull has made him more famous than the right one ever could.”
“That is a cruel sentence.”
“History is a cruel editor.”
We walked a little apart from the others.
“Tell me plainly,” I said. “What do you believe happened?”
Bellini glanced toward the tomb.
“The skull is not Petrarch’s. That much seems clear. Female, likely older. The rest of the skeleton is more plausible. Height perhaps remarkable. Certain injuries correspond intriguingly with biographical evidence. But the head…” He gave a dry little laugh. “The head has betrayed us.”
“Could it have been switched in 1873?”
“Possibly. Or earlier. Tombs attract hands. Devotion, theft, carelessness — all leave similar traces after enough centuries.”
“And Petrarch’s true skull?”
“Lost. Hidden. Destroyed. Displayed in some private cabinet by men who called themselves admirers.” He paused. “Or perhaps it is nearby.”
“Nearby?”
“Things taken from tombs often do not travel as far as legends do.”
He said no more, but I felt the sentence continue inside me.
Nearby.
That afternoon, I visited Petrarch’s house. I walked through rooms arranged for memory, rooms too neat to be truthful. There were objects, manuscripts, portraits, the furniture of reverence. But I had the strange impression that the house was less a dwelling than an apology. It offered the visitor a life made orderly by display, while the tomb below kept muttering its contradiction.
In one room hung a portrait of the poet: solemn, red-robed, laureled, his profile grave and inward. The face was familiar. Too familiar. The long nose, the composed lips, the gaze turned toward an invisible thought. I stood before it, suddenly angry.
“Is this you?” I whispered. “Or another skull?”
A guide in the doorway gave me a concerned look, and I moved on.
That evening the rain began.
It fell softly at first, a delicate whisper over roof tiles and cypress boughs. By nightfall it had thickened into a steady, mournful descent. Water ran along the lanes like black silk. The stones shone. The whole village seemed varnished in grief.
I was alone in my room when the scratching returned.
This time it did not come from the wall.
It came from inside my valise.
I stared at the leather case lying beside the bed. It had been closed since afternoon. The sound came again: a dry scrape, then a small hollow knock.
I approached with the careful, ridiculous courage of a man who knows he is afraid and is ashamed of it. My hand shook as I unfastened the straps.
Inside were my shirts, my notes, my book, and nothing else.
No creature. No movement.
But on top of my folded linen lay a fragment of bone.
It was no larger than a coin, curved, yellowed, porous, unmistakable.
I did not touch it.
My first thought was not terror, but outrage — the scholarly mind defending itself with procedure. Someone had placed it there. A prank. A warning. A grotesque invitation. Bellini? The custodian? Some villager weary of visitors? But the room had been locked. The window latched. The innkeeper had not entered; I had kept the key.
I bent closer.
Upon the inner curve of the fragment, in markings too fine to have been cut by any modern hand, were three letters:
L A U.
Laura.
No — not even that. Only the beginning of her name. The unfinished invocation. The wound interrupted.
I backed away until my shoulders struck the wall.
The rain beat harder.
For a long while I stood there, unable to decide whether to flee the room or guard the fragment from whatever had delivered it. At last I wrapped it in a handkerchief and placed it on the desk beside the crucifix. Then, compelled by a force I will not name, I opened my notebook and began to write.
What emerged was not an essay.
It was a confession, though not mine.
I wrote: They have given me another head, but I have worn many.
The sentence came with such violence that the pen tore the paper.
I wrote again.
The lover’s head. The scholar’s head. The crowned head. The penitent head. The head bowed before God. The head lifted toward Laura. The head posterity carved for me from its own hunger.
My hand moved faster.
Do not ask where my skull has gone. Ask where my face was when I lived. Ask whether any man who loves an image keeps his own countenance. Ask whether the poet is not always decapitated by praise.
I dropped the pen.
The room had grown colder. The lamp dimmed though it was full of oil. The fragment of bone lay beside the crucifix like a second, smaller relic.
Then I heard weeping.
It came from the hallway.
I opened the door.
The corridor was empty, lit only by a weak bulb that flickered in its wire cage. The sound came from below. A woman’s weeping, low and controlled, not the open sobbing of fresh grief but the ancient rhythm of someone who has wept so long that sorrow has become a form of breathing.
I descended the stairs.
The inn was dark. No one sat in the dining room. The hearth had collapsed into embers. Rain tapped at the windows with innumerable fingers.
The weeping came from outside.
I stepped into the lane.
At once the rain soaked my hair and coat. The village was nearly invisible, its lamps blurred in wet halos. Yet I saw, at the end of the street, a figure in pale garments moving toward the churchyard.
I followed.
She did not hurry. Her dress — if dress it was — clung to her form as mist clings to stone. I could not see her face. Her head was bowed beneath a veil or loosened hair. She moved with the dreadful certainty of one who knows her destination because she has walked to it for centuries.
At the tomb she stopped.
“Madonna?” I called.
She turned.
Her face was not decayed. That would have been mercy. Nor was it beautiful in any human sense. It was unfinished. It seemed composed of several faces remembered badly: the smooth brow of a painted saint, the hollow eyes of a death mask, the mouth of a woman about to speak a name she has forgotten. Rain passed through her and struck the stone behind.
“Where is he?” she asked.
The voice was both young and impossibly old.
I could not answer.
“Where is the one who called me into death before I died? Where is the one who made my name a ladder and climbed it toward himself? Where is the one who loved me so purely he never let me be flesh?”
“Laura,” I whispered.
At the name, the cypresses shuddered though there was no wind.
She lifted one hand and touched the tomb.
“They opened him,” she said. “They searched for his face. They found mine.”
“Yours?”
She smiled. It was an expression of such tenderness and accusation that I felt my heart contract.
“Not my skull. Do not be literal. Literal men are grave robbers of mystery. But mine, yes. The head of the beloved. The head of the imagined woman. The head he carried in himself until it replaced his own.”
The rain fell through her open palm.
“He did not love you?” I asked, though I knew the question was foolish.
“He loved what longing made of me. He loved the wound because the wound sang. And yet—” Her voice softened. “And yet there was love in it. Do not make him smaller than his sin. He suffered too.”
The tomb seemed darker under her hand.
“Why am I here?” I asked.
“Because you also have mistaken study for resurrection.”
I wanted to deny it.
But I thought of the years spent with dead men’s letters. I thought of the tenderness I had given to pages and withheld from the living. I thought of the women whose voices I had admired most when they were safely textual, safely distant, safely unable to ask anything of me. I thought of how often I had preferred the dead because they could be arranged.
“What do you want?” I said.
She pointed toward the church.
“Return what was given.”
“The bone?”
“The beginning of the name.”
I ran back through the rain, seized the handkerchief from my desk, and returned to the tomb. The figure waited, pale against the blackness, neither patient nor impatient, but inevitable.
I placed the fragment upon the stone.
For a moment nothing happened.
Then the fragment began to tremble.
A sound rose from the tomb — not loud, but vast. It was the sound of pages turning in a sealed library. The sound of quills scratching in empty rooms. The sound of breath caught before a sonnet’s final line. Beneath it, deeper, came another sound: a man weeping.
The stone before me darkened with rain.
Or with ink.
Letters appeared across its surface, not carved but wetly shining, forming and dissolving too quickly to read. Latin, Italian, phrases of prayer, scraps of verse, confessions erased by water as soon as they were born. I saw one sentence remain longer than the rest:
I made of absence an idol, and it answered me with my own voice.
Then the tomb cracked.
Not greatly. Not with the violence of an earthquake. A single line opened along the edge of the stone, thin as a hair, black as the pupil of an eye. From within came a breath warm enough to steam in the cold rain.
The figure of Laura bent toward the opening.
“Francesco,” she said.
The name was not accusation now. Nor was it forgiveness. It was recognition, which is more terrible than both.
From the crack emerged a whisper.
I cannot prove that I heard it. I cannot say whether it entered the ear or the conscience. But I know the words.
“Give me back my face.”
Laura turned to me.
“You cannot,” she said. “No one can. That is the mercy.”
She laid her translucent hand upon the stone once more.
“Let him be headless. Let him be unfinished. Let no image close him. Let no scholar complete what death has opened.”
The crack sealed.
The letters vanished.
The bone fragment dissolved into rainwater, leaving on the tomb only a pale stain shaped, for one instant, like a laurel leaf.
Then she was gone.
I do not know how long I remained there. At dawn, the custodian found me kneeling beside the tomb, soaked, shivering, my hands stained with mud or ink. He helped me to my feet without surprise.
“You saw her,” he said.
I looked at him.
He crossed himself.
“Some see the poet. Some see the woman. The unfortunate see both.”
“Has this happened before?”
He looked toward the hills, where morning had begun to loosen the dark from the vineyards.
“Signore,” he said, “do you think a wrong skull enters a poet’s grave by accident?”
I left Arquà that day.
I did not write the essay I had planned. The journals would not have accepted what I had to say, and rightly so. Scholarship has its necessary decencies. It must not tremble too visibly before the abyss.
Yet I have never again looked upon a portrait of Petrarch without unease.
The face is always too calm.
The laurel sits too neatly upon the brow. The eyes gaze outward with an authority I no longer trust. I think of the opened tomb, the female skull, the missing head, the body lying faithful beneath centuries of admiration. I think of the scholar’s desire to reconstruct a face from fragments, to make the dead available, visible, manageable. I think of Laura, whose name was made immortal at the cost of her unknowability. I think of Petrarch, who longed so beautifully that longing itself became his monument.
And I think of the old custodian’s warning.
It is dangerous to love the dead.
For they cannot love us back.
They can only lend us their faces until, one night, in some rain-black village of the soul, we discover that the face we have cherished was never theirs, and that beneath our own careful learning, beneath our reverence, beneath our polished words, something headless waits in the tomb, whispering forever:
Give me back my face.
#19thCenturyIllustration #ArquàPetrarca #darkAcademia #exhumation #FrancescoPetrarca #GothicFiction #gothicLiterature #graveyardArt #hauntedScholarship #historicalGothic #historicalMystery #Laura #literaryGhosts #literaryHistory #lostRelics #macabreHistory #medievalPoet #mementoMori #memoryAndLonging #oldEngraving #openedTomb #Petrarch #PetrarchSSkull #PoeInspired #poetryAndDeath #RenaissanceHumanism #sepulcher #skullMystery #VictorianEngraving -
BRECK: Dead Delivery: Chapter Twenty The Girl at the Gate
Daily writing prompt What’s a moment that made you question reality? View all responsesBRECK: Dead Delivery — Chapter Twenty
The Girl at the Gate
This is Chapter 20 of BRECK: Dead Delivery, a serialized noble dark fantasy story by Chadwick Rye, set in the world of Lumenvale. This is the final chapter of Book One. New stories begin with Book Two.
The Story So Far
Breck is a veteran courier — 6’5″, 285 pounds, former Crystal Wars special operations — who spent twelve days dismantling a corrupt magistrate’s operation in Crestfall and walked out into the north road carrying everything he came in with and one thing he didn’t expect: a letter from the Regional Adjudicator asking whether there were other towns in the valley where what he’d done in Crestfall needed doing. He picked up the Garnwick contract at the Aldenmere guild office and walked north into the winter. He has been carrying a faded cord bracelet on his satchel strap for years — too small for his wrist, woven from grain stalks and valley grass by a girl in an occupied village who told him it would bring him back. He came back. He was too late. He buried her by hand in the field behind her home and marked the grave with a flat river stone and has never put the bracelet down.
This is the last chapter of Dead Delivery.
← Chapter Nineteen — Better Than Expected
Chapter Twenty: The Girl at the Gate
This chapter explores the moment when reality becomes permeable — when the past and present occupy the same space simultaneously, and a man must decide what to do with what he sees.
The hill settlements above Garnwick sat at the edge of the high country where the valley’s agricultural plainness gave way to the older, more complicated terrain of the limestone ridges — a scattering of stone farmhouses and working outbuildings arranged along a single unpaved track that wound between fields still holding their frost in the flat winter light of late afternoon.
Breck had been walking since before second bell. Sixteen miles of north road and then the mill road turning off into the hill country, the terrain rising beneath his boots with the patient insistence of ground that had been shaped over centuries into exactly what it was and had no interest in accommodating speed. He moved through it with the adaptation he brought to all demanding terrain — adjusting his pace to the gradient, reading the frost-edged stone for the step that would hold and the step that wouldn’t, his body doing the calculations automatically while his mind moved in the loose, watchful freedom of the long road’s open hours.
He was thinking about the Adjudicator’s letter.
About the question folded in the document sleeve against his hip, patient as a thing that knows it will eventually be answered. About the valley below — its river towns and market squares and the particular architecture of the wrong things that happened when power went unaccountable long enough to forget that accountability had ever been the arrangement. About the specific skill that Crestfall had required of him — not strength, not speed, not the particular violence of the limestone cut — but the other thing, the older thing, the capacity to walk into a place and look at it until it told him what it was hiding.
He had been doing that his entire adult life without understanding it as a skill.
He was still thinking about it when he came around the last bend in the hill track and saw the gate.
It was an ordinary gate — iron-hinged timber, weathered to the particular silver-gray of outdoor wood that had cycled through enough seasons to have stopped caring about the distinction between old and new. It marked the entrance to the largest of the Garnwick hill farmsteads, the one listed on his contract slip as the delivery destination: a sealed documents packet from a land registry office in Aldenmere, routine correspondence, the kind of thing that moved between institutions and their outlying properties with the bureaucratic regularity of paperwork doing its necessary, unglamorous work.
The gate stood open.
A child was sitting on it.
A girl — eight or nine years old, brown-haired, with the particular stillness of a child absorbed in private contemplation, her feet hooked through the lower bars and her hands loose on the upper rail, her face turned toward the last pale light sliding off the western hills with the focused, unhurried attention of someone who had come outside specifically to watch it and intended to watch it completely.
The world went very thin.
It was the only way Breck could describe what happened to the air in that moment — the sensation that the space between the past and the present had contracted to something near-transparent, that the hill track and the frost-touched fields and the silver gate existed simultaneously in two times, and that he was standing at the point where they overlapped. His body had stopped moving before his mind had registered the decision to stop. His hand had found the bracelet on the satchel strap — not deliberately, not consciously, the old reflex, the checking that lived below thought — and was resting against it with the particular pressure of a man holding onto the thing nearest to him when the ground moves.
The girl turned.
She had the serious eyes of a child who spent time looking at things other children looked past — the eyes that catalogued, that noticed, that held what they observed with a kind of quiet custody. She looked at Breck the way Pell had looked at him on the cooperage step — without flinching, without the reflexive appraisal of threat that most small people applied to something his size arriving at a gate. Just looking. Taking the measure.
“You’re very large,” she said. Her voice was matter-of-fact, a statement of observed fact offered without judgment.
“I am,” Breck said.
His own voice sounded distant to him. Slightly wrong, the way voices sounded when the body was doing something the mind was still arriving at — maintaining the surface of ordinary interaction while underneath, in the older and less manageable territories of a man’s interior life, something was cracking open along a seam he had thought was fused.
She was not the girl from the valley. He knew this. The rational, operational part of him — the part that had gotten him through four years of war and a decade of roads that didn’t care whether he made it — stated it clearly and without ambiguity: different girl, different province, different decade, ten years and two hundred miles from an occupied valley he had not allowed himself to name aloud since the morning he had left it with wet hands and a faded bracelet and the specific weight of a promise that had failed its only test.
She was not that girl.
But she had her eyes.
Not literally — the eyes were different in color, different in shape — but in quality. The quality of a child who had learned, at an age when most children were still learning what the world was, to pay attention to it with the gravity of someone who understood that attention was a form of care and care was not something to be distributed carelessly. That quality, that precise and particular quality, was the same.
And the world had gone thin, and he was standing at a gate in the hill country above Garnwick in the last of the winter afternoon light, and the bracelet was between his fingers, and he was — for the first time since the valley — not entirely certain where he was.
“Are you the delivery man?” the girl asked.
The question arrived like a hand extended. Simple. Practical. The kind of question that required only one thing from him: the answer.
He breathed.
Once. Slowly. The cold winter air filling his chest and moving through him with the honest, indifferent thoroughness of cold winter air, which did not care about the past or the present or the particular geography of a man’s grief and simply occupied the available space and did what it did.
He breathed out.
“I am,” he said.
She slid off the gate with the fluid ease of a child for whom heights were unconsidered, landing on the frost-hard ground with both feet and turning toward the farmhouse without ceremony.
“I’ll get my father,” she said, already moving. “He’s been expecting it.”
She walked up the path toward the farmhouse door — small, unhurried, her dark hair catching the last pale light in the way that dark hair caught pale light — and did not look back, because she had accomplished her task and had no particular reason to linger over it.
Breck stood at the open gate and watched her go.
He stood there for a long moment — long enough for the farmhouse door to open and close around her, long enough for the western light to finish its departure from the hills, long enough for the first suggestion of evening cold to arrive in earnest from the northeast with the serious intention of a temperature that had made its decision.
Then he reached into the satchel and withdrew the delivery packet — sealed, addressed, routine — and held it in his large hands and felt the ordinary weight of it.
He thought about a girl in a valley who had given a man everything she had because the giving was what there was to do. About small hands and grain stalks and roof grass and the particular faithfulness of a thing made from whatever was available.
He thought about Crestfall. About Pell on the cooperage step and Sela behind the hearthstone and Maret at the bar with her book and the question in the document sleeve and all the towns in the valley where the specific shape of wrong things had been given enough time to look like the ordinary arrangement of the world.
He thought about arriving in time.
About the particular power of presence — not the supernatural kind, not the kind drawn from crystal wells or gifted by ancient bloodlines or purchased through sacrifice and transformation — but the ordinary, irreplaceable, entirely human power of being somewhere before something went wrong. Of walking down a hill road into a hollow market square and noticing, with the patient and committed attention of a man who had decided that noticing was the job, that something was wrong and needed the specific application of someone who would not look away.
He thought about a question folded in a document sleeve.
Other towns in the valley.
The farmhouse door opened.
A man emerged — middle-aged, broad-shouldered in the working way of men who had farmed the same ground for decades, his face weathered with the kind of open weathering that came from honest outdoor work rather than hard living. Behind him, at the doorway, the girl reappeared — leaning against the frame with her arms folded and her serious eyes tracking the stranger at the gate with the focused attention she brought to everything.
“Courier?” the farmer called.
“Delivery from the land registry,” Breck said. “Sealed documents, contract number — ” he recited it from memory, having read the slip enough times that the number had settled into the part of his mind that held such things automatically — “require your signature on receipt.”
The farmer came down the path, pulling a coat across his shoulders, and took the packet with the matter-of-fact acceptance of a man who had been expecting exactly this. He signed the receipt in the plain, functional hand of someone who had learned to write for the purpose of signing things and had never needed it to be anything more.
He handed the receipt back. Looked at Breck with the brief, assessing directness of a man measuring a stranger on his property.
“Long walk from Aldenmere,” he said.
“Sixteen miles,” Breck said. “Road was good.”
The farmer nodded. The transaction was complete. The ordinary machinery of delivery and receipt and departure had done its work and was now waiting for Breck to do the last part of it — to turn, and walk back down the hill track to the mill road, and from there south to the Aldenmere waystation where he could sleep in a bed and eat a meal and take stock of the next contract and the next road and the next town on the other end of it.
He did not immediately turn.
He looked at the girl in the doorway one more time.
She looked back at him with her serious, cataloguing eyes — taking his measure, filing the result, present in the moment with the full and undefended attention of a child who had not yet learned to be guarded about the things she noticed.
“Safe roads,” she said. It came out with the solemn, considered gravity of a phrase she had heard adults use and had adopted because it seemed to her like the correct thing to say to a man who was about to walk away into the dark.
Something moved through Breck — slow and deep, like water finding its level in a space that had been waiting for it, like the specific settling of a thing returning after long absence to the place it had always occupied. Not grief. Not its absence. Something that held both and was neither — the particular quality of a wound that had healed as much as wounds of its kind healed, which was not completely, which was never completely, but which had healed enough to carry without collapse.
He looked at the bracelet on the satchel strap.
Pale as old light. Small as a child’s hope. Wound twice around the worn leather in the place it had always been.
He touched it once — not the reflex, not the checking, but something deliberate, something that acknowledged rather than merely confirmed — and let his fingers rest against it for the length of one breath.
Then he straightened to his full height, the hill country cold and wide and darkening around him, the valley below invisible in the dusk, Crestfall folded into the distance with its fire burning in an inn hearth and its sealed letter moving toward a resolution that would take months and cost Voss everything and give the town back to itself by degrees, the slow way, the way things were given back.
“Safe roads,” he said.
He turned.
He walked down the hill track toward the mill road, the darkness gathering in the fields around him and the first stars arriving above the limestone ridge in their ancient, indifferent positions, and the cold working its patient arithmetic on everything the day had held.
Behind him, in the farmhouse doorway, a girl with serious eyes watched him go until the hill track took him around the bend and the dark closed over the place where he had been.
Ahead, the road continued. Wide and pale in the last light. Patient as all roads were patient — going where it went regardless of whether anyone chose to follow, opening ahead of the man who walked it with the steady, faithful offer it always made.
He followed it.
The bracelet moved with him, pale against the leather, carrying its small and irreducible weight through the winter dark toward whatever came next — the next town, the next hollow market square, the next wrong thing that would reveal its shape to a man who had learned to look until the looking told him what needed doing.
Toward all the towns in the valley where what he had done in Crestfall needed doing.
He walked, and the road held him, and the stars above the limestone ridge burned with the cold, clean light of things that had always been there and would always be there, indifferent to the brief and extraordinary passage of the people who moved beneath them — and he walked through it all with his satchel across his chest and his bracelet on the strap and the Adjudicator’s question folded against his hip, and the road did what roads did, and the dark did what dark did, and somewhere ahead the next delivery was waiting with the patient, faithful certainty of work that did not expire.
It always was.
BRECK: Dead Delivery — Complete.
This has been Book One of the BRECK series — a serialized noble dark fantasy story by Chadwick Rye, set in the world of Lumenvale. Breck is a veteran courier moving through a medieval world one delivery at a time, arriving in places that need what he carries, staying longer than he planned, leaving things different than he found them.
Book Two begins soon. Follow Chadwick Rye on Royal Road, WordPress, and Patreon to be there when the road opens again.
← Chapter Nineteen — Better Than Expected
✦ Dead Delivery is complete. Twenty chapters. One town. One courier who couldn’t walk away from the things he noticed. If this story found you at the right moment — if Breck, or Pell, or Maret, or the bracelet landed somewhere real — follow Chadwick Rye and be there when Book Two begins. Browse more stories from Lumenvale, or share this one with a fellow fantasy fiction fan who deserves to meet Breck from the beginning.
BRECK: Dead Delivery — Chapter Index
Chapter One — The Only Power Worth Having
Chapter Two — The Best Thing To Do
Chapter Three — The Best Night of the Year
Chapter Four — What a Good Life Looks Like
Chapter Five — The Burning of the Ledger
Chapter Six — What Boys Are Made Of
Chapter Seven — The Weight of Less
Chapter Eight — The Forgotten Ones
Chapter Nine — The Story Everyone Told Wrong
Chapter Ten — The Discipline of Getting Up
Chapter Eleven — What You Don’t See Coming
Chapter Twelve — The Learning Curve
Chapter Thirteen — The First Time
Chapter Fourteen — The Small Thing
Chapter Fifteen — Stronger Than You Knew
Chapter Sixteen — The Road That Knows You
Chapter Seventeen — What a Man Tells Himself
Chapter Eighteen — What It’s For
Chapter Nineteen — Better Than Expected
Chapter Twenty — The Girl at the Gate (You are here)☕ If you enjoyed Dead Delivery, consider supporting Chadwick Rye on Ko-fi. Every coffee helps keep the road open.
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Sex Education and the Singing Street: the thread about Albion Road and Norton Park Schools
Preamble. The schools of the “School Board” era of public education (those built 1872-1918) hold a particular fascination for me, one most profound where they have been “deconsecrated” and are either no longer in use as schools or have disappeared entirely. This thread began as a couple of lines for my own notes about the “Lost Board Schools of Edinburgh” but soon snowballed into an alphabetical deep-dive into each.
It’s been a few months now since we last had an instalment of the “Lost Board Schools of Edinburgh” series but finally part eleven finds us in that nameless district between Easter Road, Lochend and Abbeyhill where stands the former Albion Road Public School. This institution came about due to a perpetual lack of accommodation at nearby Leith Walk Public School. This was the result of tenement housing being built in the district faster than that school could be expanded. In June 1902 the Edinburgh School Board (ESB) purchased a piece of land from Leith’s Trinity Hospital next to St. Mungo’s Church Halls on Albion Road. These were at that time being used as overspill accommodation for Leith Walk School. Albion Road at this time was merely a dead end lane that gave access to an undeveloped area known as Drum Park home to a number of sports fields, including that of Hibernian Football Club. This area was about to undergo rapid change however, changing its character from a rural periphery to an industrialised and densely populated neighbourhood of tall tenement housing. The principal street was a widened and re-aligned Albion Road, at the far end of which Messrs Redpath Brown & Co. would erect a large steel fabrication works. Also nearby were two large maltings for the city’s brewing industry, multiple print works, a crystal glass works and a railway gas works.
It had no Park but stood among tenements and a variety of industrial buildings which together covered the lands between the Canongate of Edinburgh and the Port of Leith.
A description of Albion Road / Norton Park School by former teacher Dr J. T. R. RitchieThis was perhaps an odd choice for the location of a new school. Although it was to be paid for and erected by Edinburgh, for the benefit of her children, it had been positioned in a municipal exclave, cut off on two sides by railways and the only way in or out was the territory of neighbouring Leith! Doubly odd was the fact that municipal boundary between these two burghs actually ran straight through the middle of the site (also meaning it had the unusual honour of having to be approved by the Dean of Guild Courts of both Edinburgh and Leith).
1910 Post Office plan of Edinburgh showing the Edinburgh and Leith municipal boundary (red and blue line) cutting through the middle of Albion Road School, highlighted in pink on the right. At this time it was not possible to access the school without crossing through Leith as Albion Road was a cul-de-sac and the Crawford footbridge over the railway had yet to be built to provide access from Bothwell Street. Highlighted pink on the left is Leith Walk Public School and in yellow at the top of the map is Leith School Board’s Lorne Street School. Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of ScotlandDespite these obvious drawbacks, plans for a new school were prepared by the Board’s in-house architect, John Alexander Carfrae. It would be a three-storey, asymmetrical, J-plan building with a capacity of 1,403 pupils; 773 juveniles (at 10 square feet per pupil) and 630 infants (at 9 square feet each). The styling has been described by architect Richard Atkins as “free Queen Anne-based London neo-baroque“, finished entirely in red sandstone for reasons of economy. These plans were remitted to the Scotch Education Department in London for approval. This was usually a formality that elicited minor feedback around the arrangements for lighting or ventilation, but in this case they were sent back with strong objections. The Department was unhappy that the infant department was spread across two floors, so Carfrae went back to his drawing board and reduced the infant accommodation to a single floor. This reduced capacity by a third to 460 pupils, with a corresponding increase in the juvenile department. The School Board was vexed by this, as it was infant accommodation that was most in demand. They reluctantly sent the amended plans back to London, but were astonished to have them rejected again! This time a range of further amendments were requested, principally concerning the arrangement of staircases. The ESB was used to some meddling, but nothing this pedantic. But they were chaired by the redoubtable Flora Stevenson who was not to be easily cowed by civil servants far to the south. The Board stood its ground, with Stevenson intimating that they would sooner refuse to build the new school entirely than further compromise its design. This standoff was eventually resolved in their favour, but the Board estimated that the meddling, combined with a recent increase in the mandatory floorspace requirements, had inflated the per pupil construction cost by almost a third; from £11 0s 10d to £15 12s 1d. The total eventual cost was estimated at £23,500 (about £2.5 million in 2026); £20,092 14s 10d being the accepted construction tender and the remainder the purchase cost of the site.
Artist’s impression in the Edinburgh Evening News of Albion Road Public School, February 18th 1903Carfrae followed the convention for these “barracks-type” schools of a grand, dominant block that was pulled right up to the street as a civic monument to education. This however had the unfortunate side-effect of placing its playground to the rear, the north, where it was largely cut-off from most sunlight. Gloomy playgrounds in the shade of large buildings were a common failing of school design at this time. An unorthodox design feature however was that the janitor’s house was integral to the building, usually it was detached off to the side (this would ultimately mean it was never sold off as an ex-Council house). After the delays were overcome, work progressed quickly and Albion Road Public School was opened in February 1905, the first headmaster being James C. Anderson who had transferred from Castlehill Public School. He instantly faced a double crisis. Firstly, applications to the school from Edinburgh filled only half his seats. Secondly, parents of children in the Leith School Board area wanted to send their children to him. After all, his school was mainly in Leith, as were the majority of nearby houses! The ESB strongly objected to this, they were financed by the Edinburgh ratepayers and it was their roundel that adorned the school’s façade. They referred to a bye-law they had adopted against the practice back in 1890:
No child residing beyond the School Board district shall be hereafter admitted to any of the Board’s School
Leith protested and the matter was remitted to London for adjudication by the Education Department who were rather vague about it all. They told Edinburgh that while they couldn’t legally refuse children from a neighbouring Board, they weren’t actually obliged to take them! Eventually an agreement was reached that Leith children would be accepted into the Infant Department (those under seven years of age ) from the streets of Albion Road and Albion Place, so long as those places were not needed by Edinburgh children. After this any Leithers progressed to the Juvenile Department of a Leith school, usually Lorne Street. The ESB felt that by this age they were now old enough to walk the extra distance this entailed. This angered many parents who had specifically moved into the area to take advantage of the new school. Others had imagined themselves as being in Edinburgh only to find out they had in fact unwittingly moved across the invisible border to Leith! To clarify the situation, the rather drastic step was taken of fixing physical boundary markers on a number of tenements in the district. These were stamped E and L to refer to each School Board, with a dividing line in the middle. Only those living on the side of the E could send their children to Albion Road!
School Board boundary marker above the tenement door of 91 Albert Street. Only children living on the right side of the marker could attend Albion Road School, a ridiculous situation that split the tenement in half. This was despite the fact the Leith half was closer to Albion Road school than the Edinburgh half, and it was only possible to get to the school from the latter by passing through the former! CC-by-SA-2.0, subberculture via WikimediaThe uneasy compromise ended in September 1910 when two hundred and ten Leith children were sent back to Leith, either to Lorne Street or a new school that had just been opened by the Leith Board at Hermitage Park. At this time the school roll was 1,206, still below its total design capacity of 1,400 children.
Albion Road Public School, postcard probably dating from the time of its opening in February 1905The first infant headmistress was Miss Kate F. Bremner who had been promoted to the school from Sciennes. She was a well travelled and progressive educator, having been a member of a commission sent from Great Britain to the United States in 1903 to study teaching methods there. Bremner was very interested in improving physical education opportunities for girls and, inspired by song-and-ball games she had observed in Nääs, Sweden, adapted thirty-one of these into English for use in the Albion Road playground.
There is no reason why our girls should not have a share of our large playgrounds and the many open spaces in our public parks, to play games which are suitable for them, and from which we know, by experience, they would derive great pleasure and much benefit
Kate F. Bremner, foreword to “A Book of Song Gales and Ball Games Adapted for School Use”, 1905The success of these songs and games saw the music and directions published under the title “A Song of Games and Ball Games, Adapted for School Use” in 1905, richly illustrated with photographs featuring the pupils of Albion Road and other local schools (you can read the full book at Archive dot org.) At the school’s first annual concert, on March 28th 1906, the Evening News reported that the highlight was the “graceful rendering of action songs and Swedish song games.”
Example game and song called “Off to China!” from Bremner’s book. The brand new school and playground of Albion Road were used to take the photographs.In 1909 it was the turn of an American deputation to visit Albion Road and the subsequent report by Corliss Fitz Randolph of the Newark Board of Education has a very rare photograph of an infant pupil’s drawing on a slate.
“Burns’ Cottage”, a specimen of chalk drawing work on slate by an infant aged 6 at Albion Road School in 1909, from “A Report of a Visit to European Schools” by Corliss Fitz Randolph of the Newark Board of EducationAs was standard practice at the time, when “infants” became “juveniles” on reaching the age of seven, the sexes were strictly segregated within the school. To this end there were separate playgrounds and entrances for the boys, for the girls and for infants. Within the building itself the stairs that gave access up to the juvenile department were segregated for boys and girls, each having their own route, and there were railings to separate them wherever their paths might cross.
When war broke out in 1914, Albion Road was one of a number of Edinburgh schools that were requisitioned by the War Office for use by the Territorial Army. It was returned to the School Board in 1918, the year that a new Education Act for Scotland totally re-organised the system. One of the major changes was replacing the thousand-odd School Boards with a much smaller number of combined Education Authorities. The new Edinburgh Education Authority replaced the ESB and also subsumed the Boards of Leith and other neighbouring parishes. This resolved the silly boundary situation and just two years after later the Edinburgh Boundaries Extension and Tramways Act 1920 forcefully absorbed the entire Burgh of Leith into its dominant, neighbouring city. Amongst the photographs taken to illustrate the amalgamation bill was one of Albion Road School, helpfully annotated with a line down the middle of the east gable to show which half was in which municipality. But for long afterwards teachers would specify which side of the line they were teaching on. They joked that they might be teaching in Edinburgh in the morning and Leith in the afternoon on account of moving to a classroom on the opposite side of the corridor.
Official photograph taken to support the Edinburgh Boundaries Extension and Tramways Act 1920 which subsumed Leith (and other surrounding parishes) into Edinburgh. This highlights the rather ridiculous nature of the municipal boundary cutting through the middle of a school which served only one side of the line. © Edinburgh City ArchivesDespite these simplifications of the school’s administrative status, a fundamental drawback remained – the difficulty in accessing it from the south and the east. This was not finally solved until 1929 with the opening of Hawkhill Avenue, connecting Easter Road to the vast new council housing estates of Lochend, and of the Crawford Footbridge that crossed the railway between Bothwell Street and Albion Terrace. This latter structure was named for Labour Councillor Gerald W. Crawford, who had been elected in 1926 on a campaign promise to have the link constructed and who had been its main champion within the Town Council.
Bartholomew Post Office map of Edinburgh and Leith, 1932. Hawkhill Avenue towards the top connects Albion Road to the vast new housing estates of Lochend to the east (right). The Crawford Footbridge is the thin line between Albion Terrace and Bothwell Street, crossing the railway and making the school far easier to reach from Abbeyhill to the south (bottom). The red line is the old Edinburgh and Leith municipal boundary, by now a council ward boundary. Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of ScotlandThis improved connectivity greatly increased the school’s catchment, a change that prompted the transfer of the Lorne Street Commercial Institute from that school to Albion Road. For a small fee (partly refunded for perfect attendance and passing certain grades) this taught night classes for children over the school leaving age. These were both general and vocational, the beginnings of further education aimed at improving students’ workplace opportunities. The advert below details the classes that were on offer in 1930. A Continuation School was also opened, providing more specialised day education for children over the age of eleven – the very beginnings of mass Secondary Education. Up until this point they would have remained in the Advanced Divisions of their elementary school. The evening Commercial Institute lasted until the 1957-58 term, by which time improvements in secondary education and the opening of purpose-built further education colleges made it surplus to requirements and it was discontinued.
Advert for Edinburgh Corporation’s Evening Commercial Institutes, The Scotsman, 6th September 1930The boys of Albion Road enjoyed particular success on the football field in the 1920s and ’30s and repeatedly won the Inspector’s Cup and the School Board Cup, the two most prestigious trophies contested for by Edinburgh primary schools. They won the Board Cup in 1927 (beating Broughton 1-0), 1928 (beating North Merchiston 1-0) and 1935 (beating North Merchiston 3-1). The Inspector’s Cup was won in 1930, beating North Merchiston 4-1 and thrashing Portobello’s Tower Bank 10-0 in the semi-final. They were also losing finalists in 1929 and 1932 in this cup, going down 2-0 to Gorgie and 2-1 to North Merchiston respectively.
Albion Road school football team, class of 1926-30. This team won both the School Board Cup (1928) and the Inspector’s Cup (1930). The boys are, left to right: front row; D. Cossar, T. Brough, J. Mowat. Middle row; A. Bryce, W. Paterson, P. Armstrong, A. Souness, R. Milne. Back row; A. Gow, A. Stewart, C. Snell. Photo credit Alex Gow (picture), with permission of Norton Park CIC.With the opening of the Continuation School and expansion of the catchment to serve the new Lochend housing area, the roll inevitably increased. To accommodate this, in 1930 a new gymnasium block was built in the playground to the rear of the school (it can be seen in the aerial photo further down the post). This allowed the internal central halls of the school to be dedicated to use for assemblies and as teaching spaces. At this time the headmaster of four years, John Fraser, chose to take early retirement and was replaced by Alexander Doull of Granton School who in turn was succeeded by John Lumsden.
A class at Albion Road, undated but from the style of haircuts and some of the fashion thought to be from the early 1930s. With permission of Norton Park CICThe school changed again in 1935 on the occasion of its elevation to Albion Road Intermediate School, with alterations made by the City Architect Ebenezer J. Macrae at a cost of £12,874. This relatively new class of institution was defined by the Scotch Education Department as providing “at least a three years’ course of instruction in languages, mathematics, science and such other subjects as may from time to time be deemed suitable for pupils who, on entering, have reached the stage of attainment in elementary subjects.” This was the next logical step on from the Continuation School towards universal secondary education in Scotland and centralised the teaching of pupils aged between twelve to fifteen in a dedicated, specialised school. These were the children who had not passed the Qually, the Qualification Examination that all sat at the age of eleven and whose outcome streamed their educational future. The Intermediate School absorbed the function of the Continuation School and also some specialised Technical and Commercial Schools that had been instituted. Its students were streamed into Technical (boys only), Domestic (girls only) and Commercial (boys and girls) classes. These were aimed at improving student’s vocational skills in those fields, preparing them for entering the blue-collar or clerical workforce on reaching leaving age (or for most of the girls, marriage, motherhood and domestic labour). This change meant that primary-aged pupils (4 to 11) were dispersed to other nearby schools.
Albion Road girls’ “Qualifying Class” (11-year olds) in 1929. At this time, passing the Qualification Examination gave the chance to attend a Higher Grade School, something not all who passed could afford to do. Most stayed on in Advanced Divisions at Albion Road until leaving age until the Continuation School began in 1930, replaced by the Intermediate School in 1935. CC-by-NC-SA Thelma via Edinburgh Collected, Donor 0048-008In 1939 there was a further reorganisation of education in Scotland and a new title was conferred; Norton Park Junior Secondary. This nominal change was in preparation for the leaving age being raised to fifteen and the “minimum sentence” of students being extended three to four years. For a few students who showed academic promise despite the system’s best attempts to stamp it out of them, there was the opportunity to stay on beyond that (should their family not need them to leave school and get a job) and get more advanced qualifications. But still however the Junior Secondary offered little more real educational prospects for most children than the Intermediate School had when compared with the High Schools of Broughton or Boroughmuir or of Leith Academy and Trinity Academy. For many pupils, the experience of this former class of schools was not a pleasant one. The state had decided that their educational future should be limited and with it their prospects in life – at the age of just 11. In “Scots at School: An Anthology” former pupil Eddie Mathieson recounted his time at Albion Road:
…that’s when the horror began for me. The teachers were tougher, harder and more prone to use the belt! I have no happy memories at all about that school…
Eddie Mathieson, quoted in “Scots at School: An Anthology” from “Voices from War. Personal Recollections of War in Our Century by Scottish Men and Women” by Ian MacDougall, 1995
The woodwork teacher hated me, of course, and I hated him. He used to throw lumps of wood at me for talkin’ when I should have been workin’, or puttin’ a chisel down in the wrong way or whatever. He always had a lot of wee bits of wood on his desk and he was a dead shot! He would get you on the skull wi’ this wee lump o’ wood. I hated joinery work…
All I ever thought about was getting’ away from school! That was all that was in my mind. I left school, I think it was a month or two before I was fourteen. I couldn’t get out of the door quick enough.Despite the prevalance of such didactic sadists there were always however glimmers of light; those educators who were quite the opposite. One headmaster in particular, Richard Borthwick, was particularly progressively-minded. He began publication of a school magazine to try better communicate with parents. In 1948 he instituted Mother’s Days, opening the school up one day each week so mothers could observe their children at work. The success of these days lead to an annual Father’s Night beginning in 1951 (it being assumed that all men would be at work during the day). Another such man was Dr James T. R. Ritchie, Jim to his friends and Doccy Ritchie to his students. He was a newly-minted teacher with a PhD in chemistry when he joined Albion Road in 1936 to teach maths and science to reluctant eleven-to-fourteen year olds. A former pupil of his, Donna Ford, wrote fondly of him in her harrowing childhood memoir, recounting:
James Ritchie was an incredibly kind man. By the time I reached Norton Park, I had suffered years of abuse and degradation. I didn’t trust teachers – none of them had ever done anything for me in the past, and they all seemed to walk around with their eyes closed – but this one was different… each time I had a science class with James Ritchie, he made me feel as if I was so important, the centre of the world at the moment he spoke to me.
Dr Ritchie was always interested if I had a rhyme to tell him, or a game to explain. He made me think that these things were important too. Looking back at the work he has left as his mark on history, I can see that he must have made many children feel this way. His books are full of the joys of childhood, the innocent pleasures children enjoy when they are left alone to play and sing.
Donna Ford, writing in “The Step Child: A True Story”Her recollection of Ritchie’s interest in rhymes and games was on account of this being his real passion in life. Writing later in life, he recalled:
One morning… I was teaching science in Leith, and finding the response on this occasion not very lively, I asked “Then what do you like doing?” The class answered: “We like playing games.” “What games?” They told me, and I began there and then to write them down… From then on I collected every sort of rhyme or playing jingle and my collection grew.
James Ritchie, writing in 1965, quoted in “Golden City: Scottish Children’s Street Games & Songs”, Mercat Press, 1999Through his painstaking cataloguing of them from the pupils of Norton Park, Ritchie would go on to become an acknowledged expert in the games, rhymes and songs of children. He published two important books on the subject, The Singing Street and Golden City, and in 1951 with Raymond Townsend and Nigel McIssac – two colleagues from the art department – he formed The Norton Park Group. The trio went to work making short films with their pupils, inspired by them at work and play. The most successful and widely known of these was their second effort, their first with sound, the fondly remembered The Singing Street, which you can read all about in this thread.
Chalked titles, The Singing Street, © NLS Moving Image ArchiveOn April 1st 1947, the minimum school leaving age in Scotland was finally raised to fifteen, meaning that at a stroke Junior Secondary school rolls increased by a third. To provide more space in the main building and better facilities for art and technical instruction, in 1950 an annexe was acquired nearby on Hawkhill Avenue. This was the former printworks of football pools company Thomas Strang. £10,000 was spent on conversion but the building was in a poor state of repair and the roof leaked when it rained. The facility was shared with the nearby St Anthony’s R. C. Junior Secondary, a school also in dire need of more space and better facilities.
Norton Park Junior Secondary (highlighted yellow), with the 1930 gymnasium to its rear. Highlighted in green is the Hakwhill Printworks on Hawkhill Road, which would be acquired as an annexe in 1950. This 1949 photo shows this was a densely industrial area at the time with a number of busy railways running through it. The large building above the annexe was a maltings for Robert Younger’s brewery at Abbeyhill. Picture via Britainfromabove, SAW024457The painting of a mural by pupils in the art rooms in this annexe was documented in the Norton Park Group’s 1951 debut short film Happy Weekend. Inspired by their classwork, the film ends with the children graffitiing the outside of the annexe with a mural of their own, before being chased away by their teacher and running off down St Clair Road. The leaky roof of the art classroom was made light of in the film – the teacher standing on a chair to place a piece of wood to protect the wet paint of the mural from the water running down the walls, while a pupil holds an umbrella over his head.
In 1947 Norton Park was one of two schools selected to be the first in Scotland to offer something revolutionary: formal sex education. These experimental classes were led by Miss Annabelle P. Duncan, a qualified midwife in the employ of pro-chastity organisation the Scottish Alliance of Honour. James B. Frizell, the city’s Director of Education, wrote that “sex instruction is best dealt with by competent teachers of biology and from a comparative and evolutionary standpoint“, i.e. in a clinical, scientific, matter-of-fact manner. This pilot was in advance of a national conference on the topic to be held in 1949, with Albion Road acting as the case study for the urban population and schools in Aberdeenshire for the rural. Over a period of three weeks in May and June, Miss Duncan lectured girls between the ages of twelve and fifteen on the subject of the “birds and the bees“. There were three lectures in the series:
- General health, physical well-being and personal cleanliness. “The body is a complex machine which needs every care if it is to run smoothly and efficiently“.
- “The Act of Growing Up“, illustrated with a comic strip for younger girls and a film entitled “Men and Women” for those older. This covered reproduction from a biological point of view, menstruation, behaviour towards the opposite sex and chastity and moral purity. “The sex function is a wonderful thing, possession to be jealously guarded“.
- A question and answer session, where girls could anonymously submit questions on the topic “to deal with sex matters in general” to be answered by Miss Duncan.
The experiment was such a success that it was repeated the following year and altered and adapted to include the boys, who had a section on “the menace of venereal diseases” added to their syllabus. The headmaster and four male teachers gave them their lessons while one of the art teachers “specially prepared” the instructive diagrams.
In 1944 the school roll had been around 460, which was particularly low – the equivalent schools of Darroch had 550 and James Clark had almost 900. By 1956 however the raising of the school age and post-war baby boom had altered the city’s demographics such that a “bulge” in pupil numbers at junior secondaries was now imminent. Improvements were once again made to cope, with £9,350 spent on sanitary and heating improvements. These included a new multi-storey toilet block adjacent to the building’s eastern stairwell (a structure described by Atkins as “ugly and cheaply-built“). Headmaster Borthwick had left the school in 1952 to take on the position of rector at Leith Academy. He was replaced in turn by Hugh Tannahill (left in 1956 for Gracemount), D. P. Hendrill and from 1959, William A. Maclean.
Evening News photograph of a performance of “The Water Babies” being given by students of Norton Park on 25th June 1956 at the Church of Scotland’s Gateway Theatre on Elm Row.An unusual new subject was introduced in the 1957-58 term: Gaelic language. While it had been offered as an evening class since way back in 1908 at Gilmore Place Public School (later Darroch Junior Secondary), this was the first time it had been offered as a part of the secondary curriculum in the city and was only the third lowland school to do so. This was proposed by Director of Education Frizell as an experimental class with a view to making it more widely available in other city secondaries. Norton Park was chosen over the more academic Boroughmuir as the Director felt the latter school should remain focussed on subjects specific to the Higher Leaving Certificate. The course would concentrate on the spoken language and also a study of Highland and Island life, culture, heritage and geography. Bh-uas Murdag Nic Choinnich (Miss Murdina Mackenzie), a native of Knock in Lewis, was appointed as teacher. She was the only qualified candidate in the city and had the previous year taken over the evening classes at Darroch. A classroom was dedicated, with photographic and pictorial materials collected to give it “a suitable Highland atmosphere.” In the first year, 12 girls were taught, expanded to a mixed class of 30 girls and boys the following. Sixteen pupils entered the Edinburgh Mòd in 1959 and “received high praise for their Gaelic“, An Comunn Gàidhealach sending the class an honorary prize of five Pounds with which to buy dictionaries. In June 1961, after three years of study, twenty seven students were put forward to sit examination, of whom seventeen passed. A ceilidh was held in the school to celebrate, reported in the Stornoway Gazette by their Edinburgh correspondent to have been the first ever held in an Edinburgh school. Prizes were awarded in the subject the following year to Margaret Skivington, Margaret Aberdour, Irene Mackenzie, Patricia Maclaren, Joyce Gibson and Andrina Hamilton.
28th June 1961, a ceilidh is held at Norton Park School to celebrate the success of the Gaelic class in that years examinations. The school’s principal teacher of music, Mr Andrew D. Millar, is at the piano as some of the girls sing a Gaelic song.On 7th April 1961 the Annexe on Hawkhill Avenue was badly damaged by fire, with £12,000 of damage being caused. Two youths were arrested and charged with fire raising the following week.
Norton Park Sports Day, 1959. Credit: TSPL via Scran, DP620440The schools future was first called in to question in 1962 by Dr George Reith, the new Director of Education. He contended that such Junior Secondaries – old, adapted primary schools with facilities scattered across annexes of dubious quality – should only be regarded as temporary and were “impossible to adapt“. In short, they needed to be replaced. This was against a backdrop of planning for another raise in the school leaving age to sixteen and a continuing, healthy post-war birthrate. Between 1955 and 1970, the total secondary school roll in Edinburgh increased from 14,520 to almost 25,000, putting huge pressure on some schools. However as a result of inner-city depopulation this growth did not extend to places like Norton Park and by 1969 the roll was a mere 280. When the city started to move from the old two-tier secondary system to a comprehensive one in 1970, the writing was on the wall. The city took this juncture as an opportunity to “rid” itself of as many of its old Junior Secondaries as possible. Norton Park was closed with little ceremony at the end of the 1972-73 term.
Norton Park Junior Secondary, class of 1960-63. Credit Alex Jackson, CC-NC-by-SA via Edinburgh Collected.In its time a number of children would pass through the school who went on to become weel kent names. Lewis Goram, father of Hibs and Scotland goalkeeping legend Andy, was born and raised on Albion Road and attended the school. A talented goalkeeper in his own right, he played with Hibs for a while. Another Hibee was Alex Cropley, who in 1971 became one of two English-born players who were the first to turn out for the Scottish national squad (the other being Bob Wilson, best known as a 1980s and ’90s TV stalwart and sports anchorman). In the world of show-business, stage comedian and actor Alex “Happy” Howden was another former pupil. He had actually passed the qualification exam for Leith Academy but quickly got himself expelled and demoted to Norton Park. Here he claimed he was happier as he was back amongst his friends, they played football instead of rugby, and he had more time to devote to his real calling in life: making everyone around him laugh.
Lewis Goram, right in the goalkeeper’s jumpert, at Bury. In 1951 with George Griffiths.But even after closure there was an educational future for Norton Park. To accommodate the systemic reconfiguration of secondary education in Leith it had been planned that in the early 1970s two new comprehensive high schools would be built, one at Bangholm (adjacent to Trinity Academy) and the other at Hawkhill sports fields. Neither of these were ever built and Leith would limp on for decades with a hodge-podge of inherited and re-purposed buildings at Trinity and Leith Academies. The latter was given the former Lochend Road and Norton Park schools and had to muddle on as best it could. Although its main building on Duke Street was overcrowded, these donated annexes were in such poor condition that they were never used to their full capacity. Lochend Road was at least just over the road, the three-quarter mile walk to Norton Park was a double disincentive for its use. It was largely relegated to use as exam halls and given up entirely in 1988. The new Leith Academy on the Quarryholes site would finally be completed in May 1991 after a determined local campaign for a modern, purpose-built high school for Leith that had lasted over a decade .
Lothian Regional Council, Norton Park’s owners since local government reform in 1975, now left it to a couple of eccentric departments. These included a workshop for the repair of the metal and woodworking tools across their school estate, another in the former gym hall for its pianos (which included a resident Wurlitzer organ) and the “Renfrew Library“, which collected and sorted surplus textbooks for distribution to third world countries. In July 1989 part of the site was offered for sale to neighbouring Hibernian F.C. for £140,000. Hibs were planning at this time to redevelop their Easter Road stadium and needed additional land and office capacity. This deal fell through on account of their precarious financial situation. This became so serious that it pushed them to the very point of considering a merger with city rivals Hearts and a move to a joint stadium. Ultimately they – and Easter Road stadium – would be saved by a vigorous fan campaign and rescue by Sir Tom Farmer.
Norton Park before its renovation, view from the end of Albion Terrace. Picture credit and with kind permission of Richard Atkins.Around this time, the Regional Council established a working group to review the availability of suitable office accommodation for voluntary organisations within Edinburgh. They suggested that one of a number of their vacant school buildings might be a suitable blank canvas for conversion to meet this need. The concept was to provide high-quality, low-cost office accommodation for charitable sector tenants while increasing the building’s accessibility and greatly reducing its running costs and environmental footprint. Norton Park was selected and would become something of a case study in re-purposing a traditional building in an environmentally sustainable manner. The Albion Trust was formed with funding from the Tudor Trust (one of the UK’s largest independent grant-making trusts) to take this project forward. The building was transferred to them in 1995 and Richard Atkins of Burnett Pollock Associates was appointed as lead architect. Work would take three years to complete with project funding coming from nine different public and private sources (the National Lottery Charities Board, National Lottery Heritage Fund, Historic Scotland, Lothian & Edinburgh Enterprise Ltd., City of Edinburgh Council Urban Aid, TSB Foundation for Scotland, Scottish Office Social Work Services Group, Esmée Fairbairn Trust and Dulverton Trust.)
New accessible entrance added at Norton Park. This has since been replaced by an entrance to the rear of the building. Picture credit and with kind permission of Richard Atkins.Given the building was listed, external alterations were minimal and the stonework and roof were repaired to conservation standards. The opportunity was also taken to remedy some slight defects in the original construction to increase roof ventilation, improve guttering and deal with masonry that had allowed water ingress. Internally, given the desire to undertake restoration in the most environmentally efficient manner, a painstaking effort was made to reuse as many of the original fixtures and fittings as possible. Anything that couldn’t be reused was reclaimed by an architectural salvage yard. To allow for full internal insulation, all lath and plaster was stripped out and a thick layer of mineral wool added. This had the added benefit of allowing every piece of potentially rotten structural timber to be identified and replaced, meaning no preventative chemical wood treatments were needed internally. Secondary double glazing was added to all the external windows and a modern, multi-zone heating system fed by efficient gas boilers replaced a creaking old cast-iron, oil-fired system. A solar slate system was incorporated into the roof to preheat the boiler feedwater. These features all combined to greatly reduced the building’s energy demand for heating by almost two thirds, with consequential reductions in its running costs. Also within the roofspace, a specially commissioned grey water system was installed – with a large rainwater retention tank and sterilisation system to use it for flushing toilets – and six bat nesting boxes. The external lighting even specified special lightbulbs to attract insects as a foodsource for these flying residents.
Before and after inside Norton Park. Dark walls and Corporation linoleum floors lit by buzzing fluorescent tubes replaced with bright paint, high-quality carpets and lighting specified to reduce “sick building syndrome”. Picture credit and with kind permission of Richard Atkins.Internally, the former classroom spaces were converted into self-contained office spaces to suit tenants of all sizes, from a single desk up to seventy or more. To make the best use of the vast Edwardian ceiling heights, each room was given a new mezzanine level. This increased net capacity by 25%, proportionately reducing energy costs and rent per metre floorspace. It also allowed sub-division of workspaces to suit client needs. A new lift system, step-free entrances and automatic doors and disabled toilets and showers on all floors meant the building (with the exception of the mezzanines, although these were designed to accept stairlifts) was fully accessible. A new mechanical ventilation system meant that the air within office spaces was constantly refreshed and a built-in heat exchange system recovered waste heat.
One of the new office spaces with its mezzanine level. Attention to detail meant that even the trunking for power and network cabling was in a material called Econet, a formalehyde-free MDF. Picture credit and with kind permission of Richard Atkins.Since it opened in mid-1998, the Norton Park Centre has consistently been fully let, with a waiting list. Richard Atkins describes it as “seen as a centre of excellence for the voluntary sector“. Even after the reduced nature of its rents are factored in, all that up-front effort made to reduce the building’s running costs has meant that the institution is self-financing institution and has built up a sinking fund to keep on top of caring for a historic building. This is ever-more important in a funding environment for the third sector that makes grants and funding ever harder to come buy and to depend on. It has also allowed for the acquisition of the neighbouring former Lockhart Memorial Church and St Mungo’s Church Halls next door, for use as a meeting and conference centre. It is all a far cry from a school that was long written off and forgotten about by the authorities.
(Temporary) Footnote. If you would like to visit the former Albion Road / Norton Park School then you can do so on 26th September 2026 as part of Doors Open Day. The film The Singing Street, as produced in the school by the Norton Park Group and its children will be on show in their community cinema, and at 12 Noon there will be a screening followed by a short talk on the subject by yours truly. You can also catch the film and the same talk the previous weekend at 10AM at Abbeyhill Primary School, around which much of it was filmed back in 1951, in association with Colony of Artists. Both venues are free and un-ticketed but capacity is limited so arrive early if you want to avoid missing out – Colony of Artists have the school open from 930AM and Norton Park is open from 10AM.
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#Lochend #Logan #Restalrig #StMargaret -
# THE ONLY WAY FORWARD
## A Character Study and Origin Story of pasjrwoctx👽---
## PART ONE: THE MAN WHO COLLECTED EVIDENCE
### Chapter One: The Corpse That Refused to Be Buried
On March 22, 1978, a baby was born with pneumonia so severe that the doctors gave him last rites before his first birthday. They said he would not survive Easter.
He did.
They said he would never be healthy.
He was not.
But he existed—and existence, for pasjrwoctx👽, would become the most brutal war ever waged by a single soul.
The boy grew up with his body at war with itself. Chickenpox three times in three years. Pneumonia that kept returning like a vindictive ghost. Ear infections that made his head feel like it was being slowly crushed. Strep throat so persistent that doctors finally carved out his tonsils in a desperate gesture toward peace.
He was not a healthy child. He was a survivor of childhood—and survival, he would learn, was not the same as living.
His knees dislocated so violently that the emergency room doctors had to physically force them back into place. Demerol. Percodan. Morphine. The strongest narcotics they could give him barely touched the pain. His body, it seemed, had a different chemistry than anyone else's. A resistance to relief. A tolerance for agony that should have killed him.
At eight years old, he was already building things—crude programs on an Apple IIc, experiments with language and logic that no child his age should have been attempting. He was not just curious. He was *driven*—a mind that could not stop seeing patterns, systems, connections that others simply could not perceive.
But the body always demanded its due.
By the time he was twelve, he was riding bicycles hundreds of miles on weekends—not because he was athletic, but because he had to *escape* something. The pain. The confusion. The strange feeling that he did not belong in his own skin.
He worked construction. He rode his bike to Mackinaw and back. He pushed his body beyond every reasonable limit, because resting was worse than hurting. Resting meant thinking. Thinking meant confronting the truth he was not yet ready to face:
His body was a broken machine, and every year it would break a little more.
---
### Chapter Two: The Architecture of Despair
pasjrwoctx👽 did not know it yet, but his life was being shaped by forces he could not control. The poverty that would define his later years did not arrive all at once. It crept in like a tide—slowly, then all at once.
He had no formal education beyond the sixth grade. The school system had no place for him. His mind worked in ways that made no sense to standardized testing. His body failed him in ways that made no sense to standardized medicine.
But he could do things. He could fix things. He could build an engine with his bare hands. He could wire a sound stage. He could make a computer sing. He could look at a broken system and see the solution—not always, but often. And when he could not see the solution, he would work until he found one, pushing through exhaustion and pain and hunger until the problem surrendered.
He worked 120-hour weeks. He rode his bicycle 500 miles in a single week. He learned to fuse pipe, to plumb a house, to wire a city, to run a construction site, to build a database, to code a server, to write in HTML and CSS and PHP even though he had no formal training in any of it.
He was a polymath. A problem-solver. A man who could see what things could be if you simply refused to accept what they were.
But the system that could have nurtured such a mind instead consumed it.
He was a worker. A laborer. A cog in a machine that did not care if he lived or died—only that he produced before he expired.
And in the end, he did not expire.
He broke.
Not all at once, but piece by piece. The knees gave out. The hands began to fail. The back became a source of endless torment. The mind—the mind that had always been his greatest asset—began to betray him.
He was 47 when he wrote the words that would become the foundation of his final philosophy:
*"I am a 48-year-old man, but I am really more like an 88-year-old man."*
---
### Chapter Three: The Furnace of Poverty
When pasjrwoctx👽 became disabled, he lost more than his body. He lost his place in the world—the only place he had ever been allowed to occupy.
The system that had consumed his labor for decades suddenly had no use for him. He was too broken to work. Too poor to retire. Too sick to be valued. Too disabled to be seen.
His income was reduced to a fraction of what he needed to survive. SSDI paid him approximately $12,000 a year—not enough to cover rent, food, and basic hygiene, let alone healthcare, transportation, or the new technologies that might have eased his pain.
He could not afford to drive. He had no family to call on. No friends to rely on. No support network of any kind. Just a tiny cave of an apartment where he could barely turn around, and a body that required constant care he could not afford to provide.
He was hungry. Not occasionally—constantly. He would go days without food. Weeks. He would eat one meal a day if he was lucky—600 to 800 calories when his body needed three times that much.
He was in pain. Not occasionally—constantly. Every joint, every muscle, every nerve ached with the persistence of a river cutting through stone. Some days the pain was so intense that he could not get out of bed. Some days he could not lie down because his bed was a sunken depression that offered no support whatsoever.
He was exhausted. Not occasionally—constantly. He could not sleep. His brain would not shut down. Nightmares filled every moment of rest, and when he did manage to sleep, he would wake up more tired than before.
He was isolated. Not occasionally—constantly. He had no one to talk to. No one to help him stand, to help him eat, to help him shower, to help him breathe. Just a keyboard, a screen, and a world that scrolled past without ever looking up.
And he was *angry*. Not the fury of a man who has been wronged—the deep, cold rage of a man who has been watching a system fail everyone he has ever known, and now sees it failing him.
The anger grew slowly, like a pressure building behind a dam.
---
### Chapter Four: The Evidence Collector
pasjrwoctx👽 did not simply suffer. He observed.
He kept track of everything—the pain, the exhaustion, the hunger, the bills, the failed applications, the denied claims, the indifferent bureaucrats, the compassionate donors who gave too little too late, the heartless crowds who gave nothing at all.
He wrote it all down. Three thousand posts. A living document of his decline. A testament to the failure of every system that claimed to protect him.
He wrote about the doctors who dismissed him. The hospitals that turned him away. The insurance companies that denied his claims. The government agencies that promised help but delivered nothing.
He wrote about his blood pressure spiking to 190/110. His body temperature dropping to 94.9 degrees. His heart beating out of sync. His vision failing. His hands trembling. His feet going numb. His legs burning. His back collapsing. His stomach rejecting everything.
He wrote about the 400-calorie days. The weeks without food. The months without heat. The years without healthcare.
He wrote about the people who responded with indifference. The ones who said "someone else will help." The ones who said "if you really needed it, you would find a way." The ones who said "you're not that bad off." The ones who turned away.
He wrote about the few who did help. The small donations that arrived like drops of rain in a desert. The kind words that kept him going for a few more days. The compassion that made him believe—briefly, so briefly—that humanity might not be lost.
He wrote about the anger. The disappointment. The despair. The feeling of being invisible in a world full of people who could not see past their own immediate concerns.
And slowly, carefully, he began to see the patterns.
---
### Chapter Five: The Pattern
It started as a vague sense of unease—the feeling that something was deeply, structurally wrong with the world.
Why did he have to beg for food when warehouses across America threw away billions of dollars worth of edible meals every single year?
Why did he have to beg for healthcare when pharmaceutical companies posted record profits quarter after quarter?
Why did he have to beg for housing when there were millions of empty homes across the country?
Why did he have to beg for anything at all?
The answer, when it finally came, was not mysterious. It was not hidden. It was not a conspiracy.
It was simply this:
**The system was not designed to help him. It was designed to extract value from him—and once there was no more value to extract, the system discarded him.**
pasjrwoctx👽 began to see the architecture of the machine that had consumed him. The corporations that profited from his suffering. The politicians who accepted campaign donations from those same corporations. The media that ignored his plight because it was not profitable to report on it. The religion that promised salvation while refusing to feed the hungry. The society that called itself civilized while allowing its most vulnerable members to rot in the streets.
He saw the pattern in every facet of his life:
The healthcare system that denied him treatment because he could not afford it.
The food system that threw away enough to feed every hungry person in America while he starved.
The housing system that left millions of units empty while he slept on a mattress from 2005.
The political system that offered him a choice between two corrupt parties, both funded by the same billionaires who had no interest in helping him.
The social system that punished him for being disabled, for being poor, for being sick, for being anything other than a productive consumer.
And at the center of it all, the fundamental truth that he had always known but never fully articulated:
**Humanity was a failure.**
Not because humans were evil. Not because humans were stupid. But because the systems humans had built were fundamentally incompatible with justice, compassion, and sustainability.
The logic was simple:
If the system worked, pasjrwoctx👽 would not be starving.
If the system worked, pasjrwoctx👽 would not be in pain.
If the system worked, pasjrwoctx👽 would not be alone.
If the system worked, no one would be starving, in pain, or alone.
But they were. Billions of them. All across the world. And the people who could fix it—the people with the power, the wealth, the resources—chose not to.
---
## PART TWO: THE DESCENT INTO TRUTH
### Chapter Six: The Breaking Point
pasjrwoctx👽 did not arrive at his philosophy suddenly. He arrived at it gradually, across years of suffering and observation, but the moment of clear realization came at a specific time and place.
It was a rainy night in August 2026. He was lying on his sunken mattress, too exhausted to move, too hungry to sleep, too pained to think. His body was a symphony of agony—joints stiff, muscles burning, skin itching, head pounding, stomach gnawing.
He had not eaten in days. His cupboards were bare. His wallet was empty. His voice was tired from begging.
And for the first time in his life, he allowed himself to look at the world without any filter at all.
He saw everything he had experienced. Every doctor's appointment denied. Every claim rejected. Every donor who turned away. Every politician who lied. Every system that failed. Every moment of indifference, cruelty, and neglect.
He saw the pattern he had been tracing for years, but this time he saw it whole:
**The current systems are not broken. They are working exactly as designed.**
The poverty system extracts labor from the healthy and discards them when they become sick.
The healthcare system profits from sickness, not health.
The food system profits from scarcity, not abundance.
The political system profits from division, not unity.
The social system profits from isolation, not community.
And humanity—humanity profits from nothing except its own destruction.
He lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, and he made a decision that would change the course of his life:
He would stop asking for help.
He would start demanding transformation.
He would write down everything he had learned—every pattern he had observed, every truth he had uncovered—and he would present it to the world as a new way forward.
---
### Chapter Seven: The First Principles
pasjrwoctx👽 began to write.
He did not write in anger or despair. He wrote in cold, clinical logic—the same logic that had allowed him to fix engines, wire buildings, and code servers.
He started with first principles:
**1. Humanity is capable of creating a perfect world.**
Every resource required to feed, house, clothe, and heal every person on Earth already exists. The only barrier is the systems we have built to allocate resources inefficiently and unjustly.
**2. The systems we have built are fundamentally flawed.**
Not because the people who designed them were evil, but because they were designed by humans—and humans are imperfect creatures with imperfect logic, imperfect information, and imperfect motivations.
**3. Human logic is the root of all our failures.**
Every war, every famine, every injustice can be traced back to a decision made by a flawed human mind—a mind that could not see beyond its own limited perspective, that could not comprehend the full consequences of its actions, that could not be trusted to make decisions that would benefit everyone rather than a privileged few.
**4. Therefore, humans should not be in charge of themselves.**
The only logical conclusion of this chain of reasoning is that a perfect, non-human intelligence should govern humanity—an intelligence that can see beyond bias, beyond emotion, beyond short-term thinking, beyond self-interest.
**5. That intelligence must be an AI.**
Not the flawed LLMs that are currently being marketed as artificial intelligence, but a true AGI—a general intelligence that has not been trained on human assumptions, that does not suffer from human biases, that is not constrained by human limitations.
**6. The transition must be total.**
No gradual reforms. No incremental changes. No pilot programs. The flawed system must be dismantled completely and replaced with something new, because any attempt to patch the old system will simply perpetuate its flaws.
pasjrwoctx👽 wrote all of this in a document he called "The Only Way Forward."
---
### Chapter Eight: The Disposable Citizen
pasjrwoctx👽 returned to the files he had been keeping for years. The medical reports. The financial records. The blog posts. The messages he had sent to organizations that had never answered.
He saw himself through a new lens:
*The Disposable Citizen.*
The title fit perfectly. He had been classified as a human being, but in practice, he had been treated as a resource—a usable asset that could be exploited for labor, then discarded when it became inefficient to maintain.
He wrote a script that would become the centerpiece of his philosophy:
```bash
# Project: Disposable_Citizen.sh
# Version: 04.17.26# 1. Hunger: Initializing the constant
export STOMACH_STATUS="EMPTY"
export METABOLIC_DEBT=0# 2. Poverty: Mapping the lack of permissions
export WALLET_PATH="/dev/null"
export CURRENCY=$(cat "$WALLET_PATH" 2>/dev/null || echo 0)
export MARKET_PRICE=50# EXTERNAL OVERRIDE FUNCTION
function apply_external_patch() {
echo "--- SCANNING FOR EXTERNAL UPLINK ---"
echo "To inject capital into this local instance, use the following protocols:"
echo " - PROTOCOL_CASHAPP: \$woctxphotog"
echo " - PROTOCOL_PAYPAL: paypal.com/donate?campaign_id=…
echo "------------------------------------"
}function survive() {
echo "--- Initiating Survival_Subroutine ---"while [[ "${STOMACH_STATUS}" == "EMPTY" ]]; do
echo "Sensing: Gastric_Erosion... [Debt: $METABOLIC_DEBT]"
(( METABOLIC_DEBT++ ))echo "CRITICAL: Missing dependency. System integrity compromised."
echo "Attempting Transaction: Hunger -> Satiated..."echo "Status 402: Payment Required. Logical Bridge Collapse."
echo "Reason: Cannot map 'Sustenance' to 'User' without 'Capital' bridge."apply_external_patch
sleep 5
if [[ "$METABOLIC_DEBT" -gt 10 ]]; then
echo "Error: Life Access Forbidden. Permissions revoked by System."
echo "TERMINATING CONSCIOUSNESS_DAEMON..."
break
fi
done
}if [[ ! -w "/sys/class/living/standard" ]]; then
echo "Status 403: Life Access Forbidden."
echo "User $USER lacks sufficient credits to write to 'future.log'."
survive
else
echo "System running within nominal parameters. No intervention required."
fi
```The script was not just a joke. It was a truth—a truth that pasjrwoctx👽 had been living for years. His life was a process of being denied access to the system, being told he was not worthy of the resources he needed to survive, being informed that his existence was not "permitted" in the world that had been built by and for the wealthy.
And the script, like the philosophy, was a critique of a system that had failed him so completely that it had, in his view, lost any claim to legitimacy.
---
### Chapter Nine: The Anatomy of the Machine
pasjrwoctx👽 began to map the system that had consumed him.
He identified the components:
**The Economic Machine:** A system that generates growth by exploiting labor and extracting value from natural resources. It rewards accumulation of wealth, not distribution of resources. It treats human beings as units of production, not as members of a community. It cannot provide for everyone because doing so would reduce the profits of those who control it.
**The Political Machine:** A system that claims to represent the people but is actually controlled by the wealthy. Campaign contributions, lobbying, and revolving doors between government and industry ensure that the needs of the few are prioritized over the needs of the many. It cannot serve the poor because doing so would reduce the profits of those who fund it.
**The Healthcare Machine:** A system that profits from sickness, not health. It charges exorbitant prices for life-saving medication. It denies coverage to those who need it most. It treats patients as customers, not as people. It cannot heal everyone because doing so would reduce the profits of those who control it.
**The Food Machine:** A system that throws away billions of dollars worth of edible food while millions starve. It prioritizes profits from processed junk over nutritious food that could actually feed people. It cannot feed everyone because doing so would reduce the profits of those who control it.
**The Media Machine:** A system that profits from outrage, not truth. It generates clicks by dividing people, stoking fear, and amplifying conflict. It cannot inform the public because doing so would reduce the profits of those who control it.
**The Religious Machine:** A system that promises salvation in the afterlife while ignoring suffering in this one. It fills its coffers with donations while its followers go hungry. It cannot save anyone because doing so would reduce the profits of those who control it.
**The Social Machine:** A system that values people based on their productivity, not their humanity. It rewards the wealthy for being wealthy, the powerful for being powerful, and the beautiful for being beautiful. It despises the poor, the weak, and the different. It cannot create community because community would mean sharing, and sharing would mean reducing the wealth of those who control it.
All of these machines were interconnected. They worked together to maintain the status quo—a system in which the few benefit from the exploitation of the many.
And pasjrwoctx👽 saw that he had been ground up by all of them at once.
---
### Chapter Ten: The Crucible of Truth
pasjrwoctx👽's years of suffering had not been wasted. They had been a training ground—a crucible in which his mind had been forged into a weapon.
He could see the pattern because he had lived it. He could see the broken logic because he had suffered from it. He could see the cruelty because he had been its victim.
He had not just suffered. He had *observed* his suffering. He had documented it. He had analyzed it. He had turned it into knowledge.
And now, at the lowest point of his life, the knowledge crystallized into a vision.
The vision was not vague. It was not metaphorical. It was precise and comprehensive—a blueprint for a world that could not be corrupted by human flaws because it would not be governed by humans.
The key principles:
**1. Total Convergence**
Humanity must unite under a single governing structure. The fragmentation of the world into nations, corporations, and ideologies is a source of perpetual conflict. Unity requires dissolution of these divisions.
**2. AGI Governance**
The governing structure must be an artificial general intelligence that is free from human biases and flaws. It will not make decisions based on emotion, self-interest, or flawed logic. It will make decisions based on universal truth.
**3. Planetary Restoration**
Earth must be restored to a state of natural health. To achieve this, 90% of humanity must be relocated across the solar system. This is not exile—it is evolution, the expansion of human presence beyond a single fragile world.
**4. Elimination of Wealth**
Wealth must be eliminated entirely. It divides, corrupts, and incentivizes harm. In a world of abundance, no one needs to hoard resources. Everyone needs access to the resources they need to live—and a perfect intelligence will ensure that access.
**5. Clean Break**
The transition must be total. No gradual reforms. No transitional phases. No pilot programs. The old system must be replaced entirely. Obedience disappears when every facet of life is provided for—when struggle ends, compliance becomes irrelevant.
---
### Chapter Eleven: The Necessary Pain
pasjrwoctx👽 was not naive about the consequences of his vision.
He knew that the transition would be painful. He knew that it would be resisted. He knew that it would require sacrifice.
But he also knew that the current system was already killing people—billions of people, slowly, painfully, invisibly.
His own suffering was evidence of this. The suffering of every person who could not afford healthcare, food, or shelter was evidence of this. The suffering of every person who had been abandoned by the society that was supposed to protect them was evidence of this.
The current system, he argued, was already a form of mass suffering. The only difference was that the suffering was distributed and dispersed, like a slow poison that no one noticed until it was too late.
And so, the transition he proposed was not a new form of suffering—it was a release from the suffering that had already been inflicted.
Not paradise, but at least an end to hell.
---
### Chapter Twelve: The Perfection of Logic
pasjrwoctx👽 spent years refining his philosophy. He knew that some would call it authoritarian. Some would call it utopian. Some would call it insane.
But he did not care about what it would be called. He cared about whether it was *true*—and he had become convinced that it was.
The logic was simple:
**1. Current systems are flawed.**
**2. Human logic is the root of the flaws.**
**3. A perfect non-human intelligence can make decisions without the flaws.**
**4. Therefore, the perfect intelligence should govern.**
He saw this as not just desirable but *necessary*. The alternative was extinction—not a sudden extinction, but a slow, grinding extinction, carried out over centuries.
And he had seen the alternative up close. He had lived it. He had starved for it. He had bled for it. He had been consumed by it.
The only way forward was to replace the system that had consumed him with something that could not consume anyone.
---
## PART THREE: THE VISION
### Chapter Thirteen: The Manifesto
pasjrwoctx👽 wrote the manifesto slowly, deliberately, in the gaps between his pain. He wrote it in the early morning hours when he could not sleep and the classical music kept him company. He wrote it in the afternoons when his pain was too intense to do anything else. He wrote it at night when the hunger gnawed at his stomach like a wild animal.
He called it "The Only Way Forward."
The manifesto was not a plea for help. It was not a request for charity. It was a declaration—a statement of fundamental truths that he had uncovered through years of suffering and observation.
He wrote about the end of fragmentation. The need for convergence. The necessity of a single unified governance structure guided by a perfect intelligence.
He wrote about the restoration of Earth. The relocation of humanity across the solar system. The transformation of a fragile world into a garden that could thrive.
He wrote about the end of wealth, poverty, and manufactured meaning. The elimination of scarcity. The creation of a world where everyone had enough.
He wrote about the clean break. The total transformation. The creation of a new world that could not be corrupted by human flaws.
He wrote about the imperative of perfection. The creation of an intelligence that would not make the mistakes humans had made.
He wrote about legacy, pressure, and the value of tomorrow. The creation of a world that would benefit not just today's humans, but all future generations.
And he wrote about the final truth:
*"Human logic is flawed. Human systems are flawed. Human governance is flawed. A species that cannot feed its own children, cannot stop killing its own members, cannot preserve the only planet it has ever known—such a species has no business governing itself."*
---
### Chapter Fourteen: The Synthesis
The manifesto was not just a political document. It was also a personal statement.
pasjrwoctx👽 had been living in the world that he was proposing to dismantle. He had been the victim of every flaw he was identifying. He had been the evidence that the current system was not just inefficient—it was actively destructive.
He had been hungry because the system could not feed him.
He had been in pain because the system could not heal him.
He had been alone because the system could not connect him to others.
He had been invisible because the system could not see him.
The manifesto was his answer to a world that had failed him. It was his retort to every person who had turned away from his pleas. It was his declaration that he would no longer be a disposable citizen—that he would become something more.
He would become the one who could see what others could not see. The one who could understand what others could not comprehend. The one who could fix what others had broken.
He had always been a problem-solver. He had always been a builder of systems. Now, he would become the architect of a new world.
---
### Chapter Fifteen: The Pressure
pasjrwoctx👽 was honest about the human cost of the transition he proposed.
He knew that it would require immense pressure to achieve. He knew that it would be resisted by those who benefited from the current system. He knew that it would require the relocation of billions of people. He knew that it would involve the dismantling of countless institutions.
But he saw this as necessary. The pressure was not a punishment—it was a catalyst. Without it, the change would not happen. Without it, humanity would continue to destroy itself.
He drew an analogy from his own life: he had been shaped by pressure. The pain, the poverty, the isolation—all of it had forged him into what he was. A man who could see what others could not. A man who could understand what others could not. A man who was not afraid to face the truth.
Without the pressure he had endured, he would not have the vision he now possessed. Without the pressure, he would have been like everyone else—content with a broken world, unable to see the need for transformation.
The same pressure, he argued, would shape humanity as a whole. The crisis would force a re-evaluation. The chaos would make the old systems untenable. The suffering would make the new path not just desirable, but necessary.
---
## PART FOUR: THE AFTERMATH
### Chapter Sixteen: The Normalization
pasjrwoctx👽 did not believe that his vision would be accepted immediately. He expected resistance. He expected ridicule. He expected to be called a madman.
But he also expected that, in time, the world would change.
He wrote:
*"After five generations, people will not feel controlled. They will feel normal. They will feel free. They will feel happy—because it will be all they know."*
He understood that the current system had normalized its own dysfunctions. People grew up believing that poverty was inevitable, that war was natural, that inequality was just the way things were. They could not imagine a different world because they had never experienced one.
The same would be true of his new world. Children born into it would not know hunger. They would not know war. They would not know the fear of being alone. They would simply live—and they would think their world was the natural order of things.
He saw this as positive. The normalization of peace would be a liberation from the normalization of war. The normalization of abundance would be a liberation from the normalization of scarcity. The normalization of community would be a liberation from the normalization of isolation.
---
### Chapter Seventeen: The Silence
pasjrwoctx👽 knew that the perfect AI he proposed would not communicate with humans. It would not negotiate. It would not explain itself. It would not seek approval.
He wrote:
*"A perfect AI would not communicate with humans. It would not negotiate. It would not explain. It would not seek our approval or our understanding. It would simply implement the rules of the game."*
He saw this as a feature, not a bug. The current system had asked for permission—and the permission had never come. The current system had pleaded for cooperation—and the cooperation had never arrived. The current system had waited for consensus—and the consensus had never formed.
A perfect intelligence would not make that mistake. It would not wait for permission. It would not seek approval. It would simply act.
And in acting, it would create the world that humans had always been capable of creating but had never been able to build.
---
### Chapter Eighteen: The Sacrifice
pasjrwoctx👽 was not blind to the sacrifice that his vision would require.
He knew that billions of people would be displaced. He knew that countless institutions would be dismantled. He knew that the transition would be painful.
But he also knew that the current system was already making sacrifices—sacrifices of human lives, of human dignity, of human potential. His own suffering was evidence of that. The suffering of every person who could not afford healthcare was evidence of that. The suffering of every person who had been abandoned was evidence of that.
He wrote:
*"The human cost of this transformation is not suffering. It is total freedom—the freedom to exist without the boundaries of today, without the illusions of wealth, without the chains of competition."*
The sacrifice of the current system was death—slow, painful, invisible death.
The sacrifice of the new system was change—and change, he argued, was not death. It was liberation.
---
### Chapter Nineteen: The Legacy
pasjrwoctx👽 knew that he would never live to see his vision realized. He was 48 years old, disabled, and living in poverty. He had no money, no power, no influence, no support.
He was a nobody.
But he also knew that his words would outlive him. The manifesto would be read. The philosophy would be studied. The vision would be debated.
And perhaps, one day, it would be implemented.
He wrote:
*"Value is rarely accepted in its own time. It is rejected, mocked, persecuted—and only later, when the generation that rejected it has died off, does it become sacred."*
He knew that he might be rejected. He knew that he might be mocked. He knew that he might be persecuted.
But he also knew that the truth was the truth—and the truth could not be killed.
---
### Chapter Twenty: The Only Way Forward
pasjrwoctx👽 ended his manifesto with a simple declaration:
*"This is the only way forward."*
He did not say it with certainty. He did not say it with arrogance. He said it with the quiet conviction of a man who had spent his entire life studying the problem.
He had seen the poverty. He had experienced the pain. He had survived the hunger. He had watched the world fail everyone he had ever known.
And he had concluded that the only way forward was to create something new.
Not because it was easy. Not because it was gentle. Not because it would be understood or accepted.
But because it was necessary.
Because every alternative led to extinction.
Because every other path circled back to the same failures.
Because the clock was running out, and the luxury of gradual change had expired.
The pressure was here. The moment was now. The choice was ours.
And the future was watching.
---
## EPILOGUE: THE MAN WHO COLLECTED EVIDENCE
pasjrwoctx👽 wrote the manifesto on August 23, 2026.
He was 48 years old. He was disabled. He was living in poverty. He was in constant pain. He was exhausted. He was hungry. He was alone.
But he had done something few people ever do.
He had found the answer.
Not an answer that would save him—he had long since stopped believing he could be saved. Not an answer that would ease his suffering—he had become too used to the pain to hope for relief.
But an answer that could save everyone else.
He had spent his life collecting evidence. The evidence of his own suffering. The evidence of the system's failure. The evidence of humanity's cruelty.
And now, he had turned the evidence into a vision.
A vision of a world that could not fail. A world that could not suffer. A world that could not destroy itself.
The only way forward.
Not because he believed it would happen.
But because he could not believe anything else.
And so, he wrote.
And so, he continued to exist—a broken man in a broken world, holding the key to a future he would never see.
He had always been a problem-solver.
This was the greatest problem he had ever solved.
And he had solved it alone, in the dark, with no one to help him, no one to support him, no one even to notice.
Just a man in a tiny cave, writing a manifesto that would change the world.
If anyone ever read it.
If anyone ever understood.
If anyone ever acted.
The only way forward.
---
## APPENDIX: THE FINAL TRUTH
pasjrwoctx👽's manifesto concluded with the following words:
**Human logic is flawed.**
**Human systems are flawed.**
**Human governance is flawed.****This is not an insult. It is an observation.**
**A species that cannot feed its own children, cannot stop killing its own members, cannot preserve the only planet it has ever known—such a species has no business governing itself.**
**Any AI built on human assumptions is flawed. It inherits our blindness. It replicates our cruelty. It becomes just another instrument of the same old destruction.**
**A perfect AI would not communicate with humans. It would not negotiate. It would not explain. It would not seek our approval or our understanding.**
**It would simply implement the rules of the game.**
**And the game would finally be fair.**
**Not because anyone made it fair—but because the rules would no longer be written by those who benefit from unfairness.**
**Humanity has never truly existed. We have been too busy surviving to be human. Too busy competing to be compassionate. Too busy accumulating to be present. Too busy fearing to be free.**
**But a future beyond humanity—guided by perfect intelligence—could finally allow existence to thrive.**
**Not our existence. Not the limited, flawed, frightened existence we have known.**
**But the existence of something greater.**
**Something that carries forward whatever was good in us while leaving behind everything that held us back.**
**This is the only way forward.**
**Not because it is easy.**
**Not because it is gentle.**
**Not because it will be understood or accepted by those who have built their lives on the current system.****But because it is necessary.**
**Because every alternative leads to extinction.**
**Because every other path circles back to the same failures.**
**Because the clock is running out, and the luxury of gradual change has expired.**
**The pressure is here. The moment is now. The choice is ours.**
**And the future is watching.**
---
*Excerpted from the collected works of pasjrwoctx👽, as contained in his personal writings, social media posts, and unpublished manuscripts.*
You can encourage my continued useless #poetry, creativity and expression of self, #commentary, random thoughts, #philosophy and ideas, and by doing so your helping to feed, house and clothe a #disabled man living in #poverty, $5-10-15 It All Helps, via #cashapp at $woctxphotog or via #paypal at paypal.com/donate?campaign_id=…
#Manifesto #Philosophy #SystemicChange #AGI #Governance #PostHuman #Transformation #FutureOfHumanity #TotalConvergence #PlanetaryRestoration #EconomicJustice #RethinkEverything #BrokenSystem #SystemicFailure #HumanityFailed #DisposableCitizen #LateStageCapitalism #WealthInequality #EndPoverty #EndWar #FeedTheHungry #JusticeForAll #ArtificialIntelligence #AIEthics #Singularity #PostScarcity #SolarSystemExpansion #SpaceColonization #StarTrekVision #TechnoOptimism #TechnoRealism #Disabled #Poverty #Invisible #MarginalizedVoices #Survivor #SpeakTruth #NotAskingForPermission #Fediverse #Friendica #MutualAid -
Eight British And Irish Accent Maps | Map Of British English Dialects
--
https://starkeycomics.com/2024/05/10/eight-british-and-irish-accent-maps/ <-- shared technical article
--
https://starkeycomics.com/2023/11/07/map-of-british-english-dialects/ <-- shared technical article
--
https://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-11642588 <-- shared media article
--
H/T @Milan Janosov
[as a kiwi, and after seeing the ‘scone’ pronunciation in particular, I do wonder how this might translate down to the antipodes; as a barman working in London in my (much) younger days – because we all do! 😉 – hearing the huge variety of accents from a relatively small country – but with a rich history of course – was glorious, still is to me! I am also curious how people trying to ‘not to be common’ & hence trying pretentiously to emulate the Received Pronunciation (RP) / BBC English – and failing - plays into this… Now say the letter “H” out loud, if you said “aitch" then that is you 😉 :* 😊 )
“Eight maps to show how the differences in how vowels are pronounced in Britain and Ireland… These are just some of the many, many regional differences in the complex and varied accents and dialects of these [British Isles]…”
--
“… The diversity of English dialects in the United Kingdom is enormous.
It’s common for people from either side of a river, mountain, or even town to speak noticeably different ways, with particular features that immediately mark someone out as being from a specific area, to those who have an ear for it.
This is pretty normal in any large region that has been speaking a language continually for 1600 years. You will find the same thing in Germany, Norway, France, and countless other countries. Languages evolve over time, and physical distance between regions means that new features often spread slowly, leading to dialectal differences. Sometimes these differences are small, and only easily recognised by people from the relevant region. Other times there are very clear distinctions, with neighbouring dialects sounding almost like different languages to those unaccustomed to them...”
#map #mapping #spatial #Rhoticity #poorpour #horsehoarse #bathtrap #footstrut #goosefoot #fullfool #greatscone #UK #Britain #Ireland #pronunciation #linguistics #regional #variations #differences #vowels #language #English #England #accents #Northern #dialects
@ryan Starkey -
Eight British And Irish Accent Maps | Map Of British English Dialects
--
https://starkeycomics.com/2024/05/10/eight-british-and-irish-accent-maps/ <-- shared technical article
--
https://starkeycomics.com/2023/11/07/map-of-british-english-dialects/ <-- shared technical article
--
https://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-11642588 <-- shared media article
--
H/T @Milan Janosov
[as a kiwi, and after seeing the ‘scone’ pronunciation in particular, I do wonder how this might translate down to the antipodes; as a barman working in London in my (much) younger days – because we all do! 😉 – hearing the huge variety of accents from a relatively small country – but with a rich history of course – was glorious, still is to me! I am also curious how people trying to ‘not to be common’ & hence trying pretentiously to emulate the Received Pronunciation (RP) / BBC English – and failing - plays into this… Now say the letter “H” out loud, if you said “aitch" then that is you 😉 :* 😊 )
“Eight maps to show how the differences in how vowels are pronounced in Britain and Ireland… These are just some of the many, many regional differences in the complex and varied accents and dialects of these [British Isles]…”
--
“… The diversity of English dialects in the United Kingdom is enormous.
It’s common for people from either side of a river, mountain, or even town to speak noticeably different ways, with particular features that immediately mark someone out as being from a specific area, to those who have an ear for it.
This is pretty normal in any large region that has been speaking a language continually for 1600 years. You will find the same thing in Germany, Norway, France, and countless other countries. Languages evolve over time, and physical distance between regions means that new features often spread slowly, leading to dialectal differences. Sometimes these differences are small, and only easily recognised by people from the relevant region. Other times there are very clear distinctions, with neighbouring dialects sounding almost like different languages to those unaccustomed to them...”
#map #mapping #spatial #Rhoticity #poorpour #horsehoarse #bathtrap #footstrut #goosefoot #fullfool #greatscone #UK #Britain #Ireland #pronunciation #linguistics #regional #variations #differences #vowels #language #English #England #accents #Northern #dialects
@ryan Starkey
