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Incite – Savage New Times Review
By Steel Druhm
Written By: Nameless_n00b_602
Within metal circles, one does not simply invoke the Cavalera name. Its crest is adorned with more than just the seminal works of Sepultura. There is ambition there that does not sleep. That great name is ever pushing boundaries, creating new sounds. This is no barren wasteland riddled with fire and ash and dust. There is no poisonous fume for inspiration to choke on. Not with 10,000 artists could you accomplish what those brothers have done; it is folly. Thus, it is with great interest—and a little skepticism—that I was assigned Incite’s seventh LP. Fronted by Max Cavalera’s stepson, Richie Cavalera, Savage New Times promises to be the band’s truest-to-self offering yet. Let’s see how deep the roots go.
For those unfamiliar, Incite majors in groove metal. A familiar southern aggression suffuses Layne Richardson’s axe work and Cavalera’s contentious lyrical delivery. Mid-paced tracks like “Used and Abused” or “Savage New Times” take a cue from Lamb of God or Exhorder, while rager “No Mercy, No Forgiveness” could easily fit on an early DevilDriver record. Bassist EL knows his craft well, building tension and promising violence with well-placed, threatening basslines (“Chucked Off,” “Never Die Once”). The instruments make room in verses for Cavalera’s vocal aggression to brew before crashing together in a choral release, and it is here that drummer Lennon Lopez shines. His energetic drumming steals the spotlight on the choruses of “Used and Abused” and “Chucked Off.” With such strong adherence to the tenets of groove metal, Savage New Times makes it clear that Incite has never missed a class at Pantera’s Vulgar School of Power.
Incite meets with mixed success when they venture outside their core sound. Richardson shows real prowess on “Used and Abused,” where he evokes both Amon Amarth in the bridge and the spiraling tones of System of a Down in the chorus. “Savage New Times” features leads reminiscent of Cannibal Corpse in the verse and, like “Feel This Shit (I’m Fired Up),” sports a militant burst fire tempo around the midpoint. On the other hand, “Doubts and the Fear” falters with a murky, pseudo-psychedelic bridge and nasally Agnostic Front-tinged vocals. Longest song “Dolores” also struggles. Unlike Phil Anselmo’s softer cleans that match the verses of Pantera’s “This Love,” Cavalera barely dulls his edge for the parallel sections of “Dolores,” creating a sonic disconnect between the instruments and himself. This is exacerbated by a similar divide between the rhythm section and the sprawling, idyllic solo recalling “Hotel California.”
More generally, Savage New Times suffers from unambitious songwriting. Except for the neoclassical intro of “Chucked Off” and the solo in “Used and Abused,” Richardson’s lead sections feel lethargic and unremarkable. Song structures feature minimal variation and fall into cyclical verse-chorus-verse-chorus patterns. While this isn’t a problem individually, ten songs of it feels repetitive. Additionally, several tracks lack a satisfying conclusion and feel half-baked. “Dolores” ends with a well-performed piano melody, but it feels tacked on after such a strong finish from the band. Similarly, by cutting their outros, “Lies,” “Feel This Shit (I’m Fired Up),” and “No Mercy, No Forgiveness” could have all ended powerfully rather than aimlessly.
While Savage New Times isn’t a terrible album, because of its deficiencies, I often found myself listening to Incite’s influences rather than Incite themselves. There’s plenty to critique between unmoving songcraft and mixed experimentation, but the final nail in the coffin is the production.1 There’s a slight sibilance and several artifacts throughout Savage New Times. It’s most egregious on “Used and Abused,” ruining one of the record’s best cuts.2 This is the common trend of the album—otherwise good tracks flawed by preventable missteps. I’ve spun this record dozens of times, and I’m sure that with more confidence and a clearer vision, Incite has a good record in them. Savage New Times just isn’t it.
Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Reigning Phoenix Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 15th, 2025#20 #2025 #AgnosticFront #AmericanMetal #AmonMarth #Aug25 #CannibalCorpse #DevilDriver #Exhorder #GrooveMetal #HeavyMetal #Incite #LambOfGod #Pantera #ReigningPhoenixMusic #Review #Reviews #SavageNewTimes #Sepultura #SystemOfADown #ThrashMetal
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Incite – Savage New Times Review
By Steel Druhm
Written By: Nameless_n00b_602
Within metal circles, one does not simply invoke the Cavalera name. Its crest is adorned with more than just the seminal works of Sepultura. There is ambition there that does not sleep. That great name is ever pushing boundaries, creating new sounds. This is no barren wasteland riddled with fire and ash and dust. There is no poisonous fume for inspiration to choke on. Not with 10,000 artists could you accomplish what those brothers have done; it is folly. Thus, it is with great interest—and a little skepticism—that I was assigned Incite’s seventh LP. Fronted by Max Cavalera’s stepson, Richie Cavalera, Savage New Times promises to be the band’s truest-to-self offering yet. Let’s see how deep the roots go.
For those unfamiliar, Incite majors in groove metal. A familiar southern aggression suffuses Layne Richardson’s axe work and Cavalera’s contentious lyrical delivery. Mid-paced tracks like “Used and Abused” or “Savage New Times” take a cue from Lamb of God or Exhorder, while rager “No Mercy, No Forgiveness” could easily fit on an early DevilDriver record. Bassist EL knows his craft well, building tension and promising violence with well-placed, threatening basslines (“Chucked Off,” “Never Die Once”). The instruments make room in verses for Cavalera’s vocal aggression to brew before crashing together in a choral release, and it is here that drummer Lennon Lopez shines. His energetic drumming steals the spotlight on the choruses of “Used and Abused” and “Chucked Off.” With such strong adherence to the tenets of groove metal, Savage New Times makes it clear that Incite has never missed a class at Pantera’s Vulgar School of Power.
Incite meets with mixed success when they venture outside their core sound. Richardson shows real prowess on “Used and Abused,” where he evokes both Amon Amarth in the bridge and the spiraling tones of System of a Down in the chorus. “Savage New Times” features leads reminiscent of Cannibal Corpse in the verse and, like “Feel This Shit (I’m Fired Up),” sports a militant burst fire tempo around the midpoint. On the other hand, “Doubts and the Fear” falters with a murky, pseudo-psychedelic bridge and nasally Agnostic Front-tinged vocals. Longest song “Dolores” also struggles. Unlike Phil Anselmo’s softer cleans that match the verses of Pantera’s “This Love,” Cavalera barely dulls his edge for the parallel sections of “Dolores,” creating a sonic disconnect between the instruments and himself. This is exacerbated by a similar divide between the rhythm section and the sprawling, idyllic solo recalling “Hotel California.”
More generally, Savage New Times suffers from unambitious songwriting. Except for the neoclassical intro of “Chucked Off” and the solo in “Used and Abused,” Richardson’s lead sections feel lethargic and unremarkable. Song structures feature minimal variation and fall into cyclical verse-chorus-verse-chorus patterns. While this isn’t a problem individually, ten songs of it feels repetitive. Additionally, several tracks lack a satisfying conclusion and feel half-baked. “Dolores” ends with a well-performed piano melody, but it feels tacked on after such a strong finish from the band. Similarly, by cutting their outros, “Lies,” “Feel This Shit (I’m Fired Up),” and “No Mercy, No Forgiveness” could have all ended powerfully rather than aimlessly.
While Savage New Times isn’t a terrible album, because of its deficiencies, I often found myself listening to Incite’s influences rather than Incite themselves. There’s plenty to critique between unmoving songcraft and mixed experimentation, but the final nail in the coffin is the production.1 There’s a slight sibilance and several artifacts throughout Savage New Times. It’s most egregious on “Used and Abused,” ruining one of the record’s best cuts.2 This is the common trend of the album—otherwise good tracks flawed by preventable missteps. I’ve spun this record dozens of times, and I’m sure that with more confidence and a clearer vision, Incite has a good record in them. Savage New Times just isn’t it.
Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Reigning Phoenix Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 15th, 2025#20 #2025 #AgnosticFront #AmericanMetal #AmonMarth #Aug25 #CannibalCorpse #DevilDriver #Exhorder #GrooveMetal #HeavyMetal #Incite #LambOfGod #Pantera #ReigningPhoenixMusic #Review #Reviews #SavageNewTimes #Sepultura #SystemOfADown #ThrashMetal
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Incite – Savage New Times Review
By Steel Druhm
Written By: Nameless_n00b_602
Within metal circles, one does not simply invoke the Cavalera name. Its crest is adorned with more than just the seminal works of Sepultura. There is ambition there that does not sleep. That great name is ever pushing boundaries, creating new sounds. This is no barren wasteland riddled with fire and ash and dust. There is no poisonous fume for inspiration to choke on. Not with 10,000 artists could you accomplish what those brothers have done; it is folly. Thus, it is with great interest—and a little skepticism—that I was assigned Incite’s seventh LP. Fronted by Max Cavalera’s stepson, Richie Cavalera, Savage New Times promises to be the band’s truest-to-self offering yet. Let’s see how deep the roots go.
For those unfamiliar, Incite majors in groove metal. A familiar southern aggression suffuses Layne Richardson’s axe work and Cavalera’s contentious lyrical delivery. Mid-paced tracks like “Used and Abused” or “Savage New Times” take a cue from Lamb of God or Exhorder, while rager “No Mercy, No Forgiveness” could easily fit on an early DevilDriver record. Bassist EL knows his craft well, building tension and promising violence with well-placed, threatening basslines (“Chucked Off,” “Never Die Once”). The instruments make room in verses for Cavalera’s vocal aggression to brew before crashing together in a choral release, and it is here that drummer Lennon Lopez shines. His energetic drumming steals the spotlight on the choruses of “Used and Abused” and “Chucked Off.” With such strong adherence to the tenets of groove metal, Savage New Times makes it clear that Incite has never missed a class at Pantera’s Vulgar School of Power.
Incite meets with mixed success when they venture outside their core sound. Richardson shows real prowess on “Used and Abused,” where he evokes both Amon Amarth in the bridge and the spiraling tones of System of a Down in the chorus. “Savage New Times” features leads reminiscent of Cannibal Corpse in the verse and, like “Feel This Shit (I’m Fired Up),” sports a militant burst fire tempo around the midpoint. On the other hand, “Doubts and the Fear” falters with a murky, pseudo-psychedelic bridge and nasally Agnostic Front-tinged vocals. Longest song “Dolores” also struggles. Unlike Phil Anselmo’s softer cleans that match the verses of Pantera’s “This Love,” Cavalera barely dulls his edge for the parallel sections of “Dolores,” creating a sonic disconnect between the instruments and himself. This is exacerbated by a similar divide between the rhythm section and the sprawling, idyllic solo recalling “Hotel California.”
More generally, Savage New Times suffers from unambitious songwriting. Except for the neoclassical intro of “Chucked Off” and the solo in “Used and Abused,” Richardson’s lead sections feel lethargic and unremarkable. Song structures feature minimal variation and fall into cyclical verse-chorus-verse-chorus patterns. While this isn’t a problem individually, ten songs of it feels repetitive. Additionally, several tracks lack a satisfying conclusion and feel half-baked. “Dolores” ends with a well-performed piano melody, but it feels tacked on after such a strong finish from the band. Similarly, by cutting their outros, “Lies,” “Feel This Shit (I’m Fired Up),” and “No Mercy, No Forgiveness” could have all ended powerfully rather than aimlessly.
While Savage New Times isn’t a terrible album, because of its deficiencies, I often found myself listening to Incite’s influences rather than Incite themselves. There’s plenty to critique between unmoving songcraft and mixed experimentation, but the final nail in the coffin is the production.1 There’s a slight sibilance and several artifacts throughout Savage New Times. It’s most egregious on “Used and Abused,” ruining one of the record’s best cuts.2 This is the common trend of the album—otherwise good tracks flawed by preventable missteps. I’ve spun this record dozens of times, and I’m sure that with more confidence and a clearer vision, Incite has a good record in them. Savage New Times just isn’t it.
Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Reigning Phoenix Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 15th, 2025#20 #2025 #AgnosticFront #AmericanMetal #AmonMarth #Aug25 #CannibalCorpse #DevilDriver #Exhorder #GrooveMetal #HeavyMetal #Incite #LambOfGod #Pantera #ReigningPhoenixMusic #Review #Reviews #SavageNewTimes #Sepultura #SystemOfADown #ThrashMetal
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Incite – Savage New Times Review
By Steel Druhm
Written By: Nameless_n00b_602
Within metal circles, one does not simply invoke the Cavalera name. Its crest is adorned with more than just the seminal works of Sepultura. There is ambition there that does not sleep. That great name is ever pushing boundaries, creating new sounds. This is no barren wasteland riddled with fire and ash and dust. There is no poisonous fume for inspiration to choke on. Not with 10,000 artists could you accomplish what those brothers have done; it is folly. Thus, it is with great interest—and a little skepticism—that I was assigned Incite’s seventh LP. Fronted by Max Cavalera’s stepson, Richie Cavalera, Savage New Times promises to be the band’s truest-to-self offering yet. Let’s see how deep the roots go.
For those unfamiliar, Incite majors in groove metal. A familiar southern aggression suffuses Layne Richardson’s axe work and Cavalera’s contentious lyrical delivery. Mid-paced tracks like “Used and Abused” or “Savage New Times” take a cue from Lamb of God or Exhorder, while rager “No Mercy, No Forgiveness” could easily fit on an early DevilDriver record. Bassist EL knows his craft well, building tension and promising violence with well-placed, threatening basslines (“Chucked Off,” “Never Die Once”). The instruments make room in verses for Cavalera’s vocal aggression to brew before crashing together in a choral release, and it is here that drummer Lennon Lopez shines. His energetic drumming steals the spotlight on the choruses of “Used and Abused” and “Chucked Off.” With such strong adherence to the tenets of groove metal, Savage New Times makes it clear that Incite has never missed a class at Pantera’s Vulgar School of Power.
Incite meets with mixed success when they venture outside their core sound. Richardson shows real prowess on “Used and Abused,” where he evokes both Amon Amarth in the bridge and the spiraling tones of System of a Down in the chorus. “Savage New Times” features leads reminiscent of Cannibal Corpse in the verse and, like “Feel This Shit (I’m Fired Up),” sports a militant burst fire tempo around the midpoint. On the other hand, “Doubts and the Fear” falters with a murky, pseudo-psychedelic bridge and nasally Agnostic Front-tinged vocals. Longest song “Dolores” also struggles. Unlike Phil Anselmo’s softer cleans that match the verses of Pantera’s “This Love,” Cavalera barely dulls his edge for the parallel sections of “Dolores,” creating a sonic disconnect between the instruments and himself. This is exacerbated by a similar divide between the rhythm section and the sprawling, idyllic solo recalling “Hotel California.”
More generally, Savage New Times suffers from unambitious songwriting. Except for the neoclassical intro of “Chucked Off” and the solo in “Used and Abused,” Richardson’s lead sections feel lethargic and unremarkable. Song structures feature minimal variation and fall into cyclical verse-chorus-verse-chorus patterns. While this isn’t a problem individually, ten songs of it feels repetitive. Additionally, several tracks lack a satisfying conclusion and feel half-baked. “Dolores” ends with a well-performed piano melody, but it feels tacked on after such a strong finish from the band. Similarly, by cutting their outros, “Lies,” “Feel This Shit (I’m Fired Up),” and “No Mercy, No Forgiveness” could have all ended powerfully rather than aimlessly.
While Savage New Times isn’t a terrible album, because of its deficiencies, I often found myself listening to Incite’s influences rather than Incite themselves. There’s plenty to critique between unmoving songcraft and mixed experimentation, but the final nail in the coffin is the production.1 There’s a slight sibilance and several artifacts throughout Savage New Times. It’s most egregious on “Used and Abused,” ruining one of the record’s best cuts.2 This is the common trend of the album—otherwise good tracks flawed by preventable missteps. I’ve spun this record dozens of times, and I’m sure that with more confidence and a clearer vision, Incite has a good record in them. Savage New Times just isn’t it.
Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Reigning Phoenix Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 15th, 2025#20 #2025 #AgnosticFront #AmericanMetal #AmonMarth #Aug25 #CannibalCorpse #DevilDriver #Exhorder #GrooveMetal #HeavyMetal #Incite #LambOfGod #Pantera #ReigningPhoenixMusic #Review #Reviews #SavageNewTimes #Sepultura #SystemOfADown #ThrashMetal
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By Angry Metal Guy
Once upon a time, Månegarm was an apex predator of the blackened folk metal scene that took metal by storm (er, Storm) in the early-to-mid-2000s. For a brief moment, as Heathenfests proliferated and white guys from Wisconsin,1 fell in love with songs about Vikings and runes, the Viking metal/folk metal subgenre was the Next Big Thing, fueled by a surprisingly liquid supply of fiddles, jaw harps, gallops, and flask-swinging choruses. Yet, time wasn’t kind. Turisas ghosted us after leaving us a weird note, Finntroll got lost in the woods and returned changed, and even Thyrfing and Moonsorrow have slowed to a crawl. But Månegarm has never stopped.2 With the impending release of Edsvuren (Oathbound or Sworn), their thirteenth full-length and fifth since signing with Napalm Records, this Swedish trio stands as one of the last standard-bearers of this once-ferocious scene.
Månegarm’s arc explains how we got here. From Havets vargar (2000) to Nattväsen (2009), Månegarm was among the hardest-hitting of the folk metal vanguard. They blended black metal’s blasting intensity with violin counterpoint (and solos), and Erik Grawsiö’s gravel-throated roar. But following Nattväsen, Månegarm underwent a serious change. With the departure of their violinist and bassist, Grawsiö moved to bass, but more importantly, they emerged with a retooled sound. By 2013’s Legions of the North, Månegarm had begun shaping themselves towards something more akin to Amon Amarth’s mid-paced crunch than the blastful abandon of their black metal roots. Edsvuren continues the same trajectory, letting the flames burn low rather than trying to rekindle the blaze; content to let the embers glow.
When the wind blows right, however, Månegarm’s fire burns bright. When these Swedes go heavy, the results are still vital—some of the best metal they’ve released in years. The opening trifecta demonstrates this: “I skogfruns famn” brims with trem-picked harmonies, fiddle, and melodies and pacing that evoke Isengard or Lumsk. “Lögrinns värn” picks up the pace and builds on Amon Amarthian heft, while “En Blodvittneskrans”—one of the album’s standout tracks—crackles with surprisingly punk-inflected drumming and tremelos that transport me to Bjoergvin. On the album’s back half, we again find heavy tracks that brim with harmonic minor riffing, fantastic vocal harmonies, and creative songwriting. “Skild från hugen” stretches into a seven-minute epic, weaving gallops, fiddle, and a doomy interlude where Elinor Videfors’ smoky alto helps to elevate the song. While “Likgökens fest” follows with another blast of urgency. In these moments, Månegarm is vibrant and confident, with a powerful sound and presence.
Much of Edsvuren, however, lives in the embers. Acoustic folk tracks like “Rodhins hav,” “Till gudars följe,” and “I runor ristades orden” aren’t filler; they’re beautiful. The production places each acoustic strum and hand drum with care, and Videfors’ voice adds a crystalline, haunting quality. Ancient and evocative, these songs are built on droning harmonies and modal folk melodies. And they sound great. In listening to these, I’m reminded of Panopticon’s Laurentian Blue, folk music with fiddle and a deep melancholy.3 The problem is proportion. Nearly half the record lives in this slower, acoustic, or mid-paced heavy space. And when stacked back-to-back (“Rodhins hav” through “Hör mitt kall,” and then again in the closing pair of songs), the album sputters. At 51 minutes, Edsvuren isn’t overlong, but there are moments when the pacing lengthens the album.
The vocals provide the oxygen that keeps Edsvuren burning, showcasing some of the finest arrangements Månegarm has ever recorded. Grawsiö’s extreme vocals remain commanding, but it’s his cleans—gravelly and full,4 at times evoking throat singing—that unite Edsvuren. The interplay with the guest vocalists—Elinor Videfors, Grawsiö’s daughter Lea on “I skogfruns famn”—is well balanced. And at its best, the record gives the impression that you’re sitting around the campfire and listening to them sing. Choruses bloom into layers of voices that feel almost ritualistic—but at least communal—and are balanced expertly in the mix (“Till gudars följe”). There’s an almost Finntrollian playfulness in the vocal arrangements at times (again, “Till gudars följe”), while at other times the harmonies are clinically tight like harmonic minor Bad Religion or early Soen. Even when the riffs tread familiar ground—or the album feels like it’s slowing down too much—the vocals continually elevate compositions and keep me hooked.
Edsvuren is an album that’s easy to like, but tricky to love. But I can say with confidence that it’s my favorite Månegarm since the Napalm run began in 2013. The heavy material is vital, energetic, and it reminds me of why I fell in love with these Swedish wolves to begin with. The folk songs and feel are brittle and beautiful, and give the album character and variety. Unfortunately, the overall balance of the record leans a little too hard into mid-tempo riffs, rock feels rather than blastbeats, and acoustic folk music—resulting in pacing that makes it feel less than the sum of its Very-Good!-to-Great! parts. I enjoy the songs, I admire the craft, but taken as a whole, they leave Edsvuren a little low on bite. Edsvuren may not spark anew Månegarm’s flames, but it tends the embers—keeping them warm enough for fellowship, beer, and song.
Rating: Good!
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream5
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: linktr.ee/manegarmofficial | manegarm.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: August 29th, 2025#2025 #30 #AmonAmarth #Aug25 #BadReligion #Edsvuren #Finntroll #FolkMetal #HavetsVargar #Isengard #LaurentianBlue #Lumsk #Månegarm #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Moonsorrow #NapalmRecords #Nattväsen #Panopticon #Review #Reviews #Soen #Storm #Thyrfing #Turisas #VikingMetal
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By Angry Metal Guy
Once upon a time, Månegarm was an apex predator of the blackened folk metal scene that took metal by storm (er, Storm) in the early-to-mid-2000s. For a brief moment, as Heathenfests proliferated and white guys from Wisconsin,1 fell in love with songs about Vikings and runes, the Viking metal/folk metal subgenre was the Next Big Thing, fueled by a surprisingly liquid supply of fiddles, jaw harps, gallops, and flask-swinging choruses. Yet, time wasn’t kind. Turisas ghosted us after leaving us a weird note, Finntroll got lost in the woods and returned changed, and even Thyrfing and Moonsorrow have slowed to a crawl. But Månegarm has never stopped.2 With the impending release of Edsvuren (Oathbound or Sworn), their thirteenth full-length and fifth since signing with Napalm Records, this Swedish trio stands as one of the last standard-bearers of this once-ferocious scene.
Månegarm’s arc explains how we got here. From Havets vargar (2000) to Nattväsen (2009), Månegarm was among the hardest-hitting of the folk metal vanguard. They blended black metal’s blasting intensity with violin counterpoint (and solos), and Erik Grawsiö’s gravel-throated roar. But following Nattväsen, Månegarm underwent a serious change. With the departure of their violinist and bassist, Grawsiö moved to bass, but more importantly, they emerged with a retooled sound. By 2013’s Legions of the North, Månegarm had begun shaping themselves towards something more akin to Amon Amarth’s mid-paced crunch than the blastful abandon of their black metal roots. Edsvuren continues the same trajectory, letting the flames burn low rather than trying to rekindle the blaze; content to let the embers glow.
When the wind blows right, however, Månegarm’s fire burns bright. When these Swedes go heavy, the results are still vital—some of the best metal they’ve released in years. The opening trifecta demonstrates this: “I skogfruns famn” brims with trem-picked harmonies, fiddle, and melodies and pacing that evoke Isengard or Lumsk. “Lögrinns värn” picks up the pace and builds on Amon Amarthian heft, while “En Blodvittneskrans”—one of the album’s standout tracks—crackles with surprisingly punk-inflected drumming and tremelos that transport me to Bjoergvin. On the album’s back half, we again find heavy tracks that brim with harmonic minor riffing, fantastic vocal harmonies, and creative songwriting. “Skild från hugen” stretches into a seven-minute epic, weaving gallops, fiddle, and a doomy interlude where Elinor Videfors’ smoky alto helps to elevate the song. While “Likgökens fest” follows with another blast of urgency. In these moments, Månegarm is vibrant and confident, with a powerful sound and presence.
Much of Edsvuren, however, lives in the embers. Acoustic folk tracks like “Rodhins hav,” “Till gudars följe,” and “I runor ristades orden” aren’t filler; they’re beautiful. The production places each acoustic strum and hand drum with care, and Videfors’ voice adds a crystalline, haunting quality. Ancient and evocative, these songs are built on droning harmonies and modal folk melodies. And they sound great. In listening to these, I’m reminded of Panopticon’s Laurentian Blue, folk music with fiddle and a deep melancholy.3 The problem is proportion. Nearly half the record lives in this slower, acoustic, or mid-paced heavy space. And when stacked back-to-back (“Rodhins hav” through “Hör mitt kall,” and then again in the closing pair of songs), the album sputters. At 51 minutes, Edsvuren isn’t overlong, but there are moments when the pacing lengthens the album.
The vocals provide the oxygen that keeps Edsvuren burning, showcasing some of the finest arrangements Månegarm has ever recorded. Grawsiö’s extreme vocals remain commanding, but it’s his cleans—gravelly and full,4 at times evoking throat singing—that unite Edsvuren. The interplay with the guest vocalists—Elinor Videfors, Grawsiö’s daughter Lea on “I skogfruns famn”—is well balanced. And at its best, the record gives the impression that you’re sitting around the campfire and listening to them sing. Choruses bloom into layers of voices that feel almost ritualistic—but at least communal—and are balanced expertly in the mix (“Till gudars följe”). There’s an almost Finntrollian playfulness in the vocal arrangements at times (again, “Till gudars följe”), while at other times the harmonies are clinically tight like harmonic minor Bad Religion or early Soen. Even when the riffs tread familiar ground—or the album feels like it’s slowing down too much—the vocals continually elevate compositions and keep me hooked.
Edsvuren is an album that’s easy to like, but tricky to love. But I can say with confidence that it’s my favorite Månegarm since the Napalm run began in 2013. The heavy material is vital, energetic, and it reminds me of why I fell in love with these Swedish wolves to begin with. The folk songs and feel are brittle and beautiful, and give the album character and variety. Unfortunately, the overall balance of the record leans a little too hard into mid-tempo riffs, rock feels rather than blastbeats, and acoustic folk music—resulting in pacing that makes it feel less than the sum of its Very-Good!-to-Great! parts. I enjoy the songs, I admire the craft, but taken as a whole, they leave Edsvuren a little low on bite. Edsvuren may not spark anew Månegarm’s flames, but it tends the embers—keeping them warm enough for fellowship, beer, and song.
Rating: Good!
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream5
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: linktr.ee/manegarmofficial | manegarm.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: August 29th, 2025#2025 #30 #AmonAmarth #Aug25 #BadReligion #Edsvuren #Finntroll #FolkMetal #HavetsVargar #Isengard #LaurentianBlue #Lumsk #Månegarm #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Moonsorrow #NapalmRecords #Nattväsen #Panopticon #Review #Reviews #Soen #Storm #Thyrfing #Turisas #VikingMetal
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By Angry Metal Guy
Once upon a time, Månegarm was an apex predator of the blackened folk metal scene that took metal by storm (er, Storm) in the early-to-mid-2000s. For a brief moment, as Heathenfests proliferated and white guys from Wisconsin,1 fell in love with songs about Vikings and runes, the Viking metal/folk metal subgenre was the Next Big Thing, fueled by a surprisingly liquid supply of fiddles, jaw harps, gallops, and flask-swinging choruses. Yet, time wasn’t kind. Turisas ghosted us after leaving us a weird note, Finntroll got lost in the woods and returned changed, and even Thyrfing and Moonsorrow have slowed to a crawl. But Månegarm has never stopped.2 With the impending release of Edsvuren (Oathbound or Sworn), their thirteenth full-length and fifth since signing with Napalm Records, this Swedish trio stands as one of the last standard-bearers of this once-ferocious scene.
Månegarm’s arc explains how we got here. From Havets vargar (2000) to Nattväsen (2009), Månegarm was among the hardest-hitting of the folk metal vanguard. They blended black metal’s blasting intensity with violin counterpoint (and solos), and Erik Grawsiö’s gravel-throated roar. But following Nattväsen, Månegarm underwent a serious change. With the departure of their violinist and bassist, Grawsiö moved to bass, but more importantly, they emerged with a retooled sound. By 2013’s Legions of the North, Månegarm had begun shaping themselves towards something more akin to Amon Amarth’s mid-paced crunch than the blastful abandon of their black metal roots. Edsvuren continues the same trajectory, letting the flames burn low rather than trying to rekindle the blaze; content to let the embers glow.
When the wind blows right, however, Månegarm’s fire burns bright. When these Swedes go heavy, the results are still vital—some of the best metal they’ve released in years. The opening trifecta demonstrates this: “I skogfruns famn” brims with trem-picked harmonies, fiddle, and melodies and pacing that evoke Isengard or Lumsk. “Lögrinns värn” picks up the pace and builds on Amon Amarthian heft, while “En Blodvittneskrans”—one of the album’s standout tracks—crackles with surprisingly punk-inflected drumming and tremelos that transport me to Bjoergvin. On the album’s back half, we again find heavy tracks that brim with harmonic minor riffing, fantastic vocal harmonies, and creative songwriting. “Skild från hugen” stretches into a seven-minute epic, weaving gallops, fiddle, and a doomy interlude where Elinor Videfors’ smoky alto helps to elevate the song. While “Likgökens fest” follows with another blast of urgency. In these moments, Månegarm is vibrant and confident, with a powerful sound and presence.
Much of Edsvuren, however, lives in the embers. Acoustic folk tracks like “Rodhins hav,” “Till gudars följe,” and “I runor ristades orden” aren’t filler; they’re beautiful. The production places each acoustic strum and hand drum with care, and Videfors’ voice adds a crystalline, haunting quality. Ancient and evocative, these songs are built on droning harmonies and modal folk melodies. And they sound great. In listening to these, I’m reminded of Panopticon’s Laurentian Blue, folk music with fiddle and a deep melancholy.3 The problem is proportion. Nearly half the record lives in this slower, acoustic, or mid-paced heavy space. And when stacked back-to-back (“Rodhins hav” through “Hör mitt kall,” and then again in the closing pair of songs), the album sputters. At 51 minutes, Edsvuren isn’t overlong, but there are moments when the pacing lengthens the album.
The vocals provide the oxygen that keeps Edsvuren burning, showcasing some of the finest arrangements Månegarm has ever recorded. Grawsiö’s extreme vocals remain commanding, but it’s his cleans—gravelly and full,4 at times evoking throat singing—that unite Edsvuren. The interplay with the guest vocalists—Elinor Videfors, Grawsiö’s daughter Lea on “I skogfruns famn”—is well balanced. And at its best, the record gives the impression that you’re sitting around the campfire and listening to them sing. Choruses bloom into layers of voices that feel almost ritualistic—but at least communal—and are balanced expertly in the mix (“Till gudars följe”). There’s an almost Finntrollian playfulness in the vocal arrangements at times (again, “Till gudars följe”), while at other times the harmonies are clinically tight like harmonic minor Bad Religion or early Soen. Even when the riffs tread familiar ground—or the album feels like it’s slowing down too much—the vocals continually elevate compositions and keep me hooked.
Edsvuren is an album that’s easy to like, but tricky to love. But I can say with confidence that it’s my favorite Månegarm since the Napalm run began in 2013. The heavy material is vital, energetic, and it reminds me of why I fell in love with these Swedish wolves to begin with. The folk songs and feel are brittle and beautiful, and give the album character and variety. Unfortunately, the overall balance of the record leans a little too hard into mid-tempo riffs, rock feels rather than blastbeats, and acoustic folk music—resulting in pacing that makes it feel less than the sum of its Very-Good!-to-Great! parts. I enjoy the songs, I admire the craft, but taken as a whole, they leave Edsvuren a little low on bite. Edsvuren may not spark anew Månegarm’s flames, but it tends the embers—keeping them warm enough for fellowship, beer, and song.
Rating: Good!
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream5
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: linktr.ee/manegarmofficial | manegarm.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: August 29th, 2025#2025 #30 #AmonAmarth #Aug25 #BadReligion #Edsvuren #Finntroll #FolkMetal #HavetsVargar #Isengard #LaurentianBlue #Lumsk #Månegarm #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Moonsorrow #NapalmRecords #Nattväsen #Panopticon #Review #Reviews #Soen #Storm #Thyrfing #Turisas #VikingMetal
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By Angry Metal Guy
Once upon a time, Månegarm was an apex predator of the blackened folk metal scene that took metal by storm (er, Storm) in the early-to-mid-2000s. For a brief moment, as Heathenfests proliferated and white guys from Wisconsin,1 fell in love with songs about Vikings and runes, the Viking metal/folk metal subgenre was the Next Big Thing, fueled by a surprisingly liquid supply of fiddles, jaw harps, gallops, and flask-swinging choruses. Yet, time wasn’t kind. Turisas ghosted us after leaving us a weird note, Finntroll got lost in the woods and returned changed, and even Thyrfing and Moonsorrow have slowed to a crawl. But Månegarm has never stopped.2 With the impending release of Edsvuren (Oathbound or Sworn), their thirteenth full-length and fifth since signing with Napalm Records, this Swedish trio stands as one of the last standard-bearers of this once-ferocious scene.
Månegarm’s arc explains how we got here. From Havets vargar (2000) to Nattväsen (2009), Månegarm was among the hardest-hitting of the folk metal vanguard. They blended black metal’s blasting intensity with violin counterpoint (and solos), and Erik Grawsiö’s gravel-throated roar. But following Nattväsen, Månegarm underwent a serious change. With the departure of their violinist and bassist, Grawsiö moved to bass, but more importantly, they emerged with a retooled sound. By 2013’s Legions of the North, Månegarm had begun shaping themselves towards something more akin to Amon Amarth’s mid-paced crunch than the blastful abandon of their black metal roots. Edsvuren continues the same trajectory, letting the flames burn low rather than trying to rekindle the blaze; content to let the embers glow.
When the wind blows right, however, Månegarm’s fire burns bright. When these Swedes go heavy, the results are still vital—some of the best metal they’ve released in years. The opening trifecta demonstrates this: “I skogfruns famn” brims with trem-picked harmonies, fiddle, and melodies and pacing that evoke Isengard or Lumsk. “Lögrinns värn” picks up the pace and builds on Amon Amarthian heft, while “En Blodvittneskrans”—one of the album’s standout tracks—crackles with surprisingly punk-inflected drumming and tremelos that transport me to Bjoergvin. On the album’s back half, we again find heavy tracks that brim with harmonic minor riffing, fantastic vocal harmonies, and creative songwriting. “Skild från hugen” stretches into a seven-minute epic, weaving gallops, fiddle, and a doomy interlude where Elinor Videfors’ smoky alto helps to elevate the song. While “Likgökens fest” follows with another blast of urgency. In these moments, Månegarm is vibrant and confident, with a powerful sound and presence.
Much of Edsvuren, however, lives in the embers. Acoustic folk tracks like “Rodhins hav,” “Till gudars följe,” and “I runor ristades orden” aren’t filler; they’re beautiful. The production places each acoustic strum and hand drum with care, and Videfors’ voice adds a crystalline, haunting quality. Ancient and evocative, these songs are built on droning harmonies and modal folk melodies. And they sound great. In listening to these, I’m reminded of Panopticon’s Laurentian Blue, folk music with fiddle and a deep melancholy.3 The problem is proportion. Nearly half the record lives in this slower, acoustic, or mid-paced heavy space. And when stacked back-to-back (“Rodhins hav” through “Hör mitt kall,” and then again in the closing pair of songs), the album sputters. At 51 minutes, Edsvuren isn’t overlong, but there are moments when the pacing lengthens the album.
The vocals provide the oxygen that keeps Edsvuren burning, showcasing some of the finest arrangements Månegarm has ever recorded. Grawsiö’s extreme vocals remain commanding, but it’s his cleans—gravelly and full,4 at times evoking throat singing—that unite Edsvuren. The interplay with the guest vocalists—Elinor Videfors, Grawsiö’s daughter Lea on “I skogfruns famn”—is well balanced. And at its best, the record gives the impression that you’re sitting around the campfire and listening to them sing. Choruses bloom into layers of voices that feel almost ritualistic—but at least communal—and are balanced expertly in the mix (“Till gudars följe”). There’s an almost Finntrollian playfulness in the vocal arrangements at times (again, “Till gudars följe”), while at other times the harmonies are clinically tight like harmonic minor Bad Religion or early Soen. Even when the riffs tread familiar ground—or the album feels like it’s slowing down too much—the vocals continually elevate compositions and keep me hooked.
Edsvuren is an album that’s easy to like, but tricky to love. But I can say with confidence that it’s my favorite Månegarm since the Napalm run began in 2013. The heavy material is vital, energetic, and it reminds me of why I fell in love with these Swedish wolves to begin with. The folk songs and feel are brittle and beautiful, and give the album character and variety. Unfortunately, the overall balance of the record leans a little too hard into mid-tempo riffs, rock feels rather than blastbeats, and acoustic folk music—resulting in pacing that makes it feel less than the sum of its Very-Good!-to-Great! parts. I enjoy the songs, I admire the craft, but taken as a whole, they leave Edsvuren a little low on bite. Edsvuren may not spark anew Månegarm’s flames, but it tends the embers—keeping them warm enough for fellowship, beer, and song.
Rating: Good!
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream5
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: linktr.ee/manegarmofficial | manegarm.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: August 29th, 2025#2025 #30 #AmonAmarth #Aug25 #BadReligion #Edsvuren #Finntroll #FolkMetal #HavetsVargar #Isengard #LaurentianBlue #Lumsk #Månegarm #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Moonsorrow #NapalmRecords #Nattväsen #Panopticon #Review #Reviews #Soen #Storm #Thyrfing #Turisas #VikingMetal
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Nightfall – Children of Eve Review
By Steel Druhm
Greek oddballs, Nightfall have always been unpredictable and difficult to pigeonhole to any one genre or scene. Though they came out of the same scene as Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, their style wandered over the map much more, flirting with Goth rock, melodeath and various shades of blackened traditional metal. Every time a new album appears, you go in not knowing what to expect. 2021’s At Night We Prey was a dark, brooding affair borrowing from Moonspell and SepticFlesh without fully abandoning their quirks and intrinsic weirdness. Children of Eve stays more or less in the same general vicinity, adding more Goth broth to the pot as they walk the edges of multiple styles. Can they continue their streak of quality releases, or will the wheels finally come of your Rube Goldberg-esque musical contraption?
As with any Nightfall release, it takes a few spins to get a handle on what is going on and whether it works for you. Opener “I Hate” is like a forced marriage between Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, and though it’s very bombastic and over-the-top, it still works at a core level through sheer blunt force. It’s heavy enough to satisfy, with hooks to tickle the brainpan, and vocalist Efthimis Karadimas’ death bellows work hard to keep you invested. The haunting female vocals that counterpoint his death roars are effective, and the song paints a dark, occult atmosphere. “The Cannibal” ups the heaviness significantly, approximating Behemoth at points while also dropping a chorus that’s so Amon Amarth, that they should start preparing for a raiding party to hit their town. From there things jump around and shift styles. “Lurking” has a grungy black n’ roll energy with more Amon Amarthing wedged in, and “For the Expelled Ones” sounds a lot like the Insomnium’s pairing with Rotting Christ on “White Christ,” with Efthimis mimicing Sakis Tolis vocally. Closer “Christian Svengali” goes for a kind of epic doom and pulls it off, creating a larger-than-life vibe full of drama with smart touches of Goth.
While every track contains moments I like, some simply don’t come together. “Seeking Revenge” adds pop-like female vocals to a groove-heavy melodeath attack that never really takes flight, and “With Outlandish Desire to Disobey” is a night club-friendly goth rocker with poppy female vocals that feels underbaked and flat. Elsewhere, “The Traders of Anathema” fuses epic moments with thrash and groove-metal and it falls short of success. The alchemy that carried them through the last few albums is less prevalent here, and though moments of inspired lunacy appear, only about half the songs really resonate with me and make me want to hear them again. After repeated spins, rather than coming together and making more sense, Children of Eve feels disjointed and patched together with Fruit Stripe gum and duct tape. You can almost hear the styles grinding against each other like tectonic plates rather than coalescing into something interesting. It’s a credit to Nightfall that even when things go pear-shaped, the songs are never outright bad, just tepid.
Efthimis Karadimas is the sole original member and he guides the ship. I’ve always enjoyed his vocals and his flair for the dramatic, and his booming death bellows still carry weight. He also wisely switches up styles enough over the album to avoid sounding one-note. Kostas Kyriakopoulos does a decent job dabbling in riffs from across the metal spectrum and there are high points where he steals the show, though too much of his riffage feels generic and basic. Fotis Giannakopoulos (Nightrage, ex-SepticFlesh) does a fine job brutalizing the skins, thundering along as the band shifts styles and genres on a whim. It’s not a talent issue this time, just a cohesive and memorable writing issue.
Nightfall have a long and unusual track record and they’ve had their share of hits and misses. This is the least compelling release since the early aughts, and though I doubt I’ll be returning to it, I can’t say it’s wholly lacking in merit. If you wish Rotting Christ was more adventurous and freaky, this might resonate, and there are a handful of interesting songs present. It just needs more…Gorilla Glue.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: nightfall.gr | nightfallofficial.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/nightfallband
Releases Worldwide: May 2nd, 2025#25 #2025 #ChildrenOfEve #GothicHeavyMetal #May25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Moonspell #Nightfall #Review #Reviews #RottingChrist #SeasonOfMistRecords #SepticFlesh
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Nightfall – Children of Eve Review
By Steel Druhm
Greek oddballs, Nightfall have always been unpredictable and difficult to pigeonhole to any one genre or scene. Though they came out of the same scene as Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, their style wandered over the map much more, flirting with Goth rock, melodeath and various shades of blackened traditional metal. Every time a new album appears, you go in not knowing what to expect. 2021’s At Night We Prey was a dark, brooding affair borrowing from Moonspell and SepticFlesh without fully abandoning their quirks and intrinsic weirdness. Children of Eve stays more or less in the same general vicinity, adding more Goth broth to the pot as they walk the edges of multiple styles. Can they continue their streak of quality releases, or will the wheels finally come of your Rube Goldberg-esque musical contraption?
As with any Nightfall release, it takes a few spins to get a handle on what is going on and whether it works for you. Opener “I Hate” is like a forced marriage between Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, and though it’s very bombastic and over-the-top, it still works at a core level through sheer blunt force. It’s heavy enough to satisfy, with hooks to tickle the brainpan, and vocalist Efthimis Karadimas’ death bellows work hard to keep you invested. The haunting female vocals that counterpoint his death roars are effective, and the song paints a dark, occult atmosphere. “The Cannibal” ups the heaviness significantly, approximating Behemoth at points while also dropping a chorus that’s so Amon Amarth, that they should start preparing for a raiding party to hit their town. From there things jump around and shift styles. “Lurking” has a grungy black n’ roll energy with more Amon Amarthing wedged in, and “For the Expelled Ones” sounds a lot like the Insomnium’s pairing with Rotting Christ on “White Christ,” with Efthimis mimicing Sakis Tolis vocally. Closer “Christian Svengali” goes for a kind of epic doom and pulls it off, creating a larger-than-life vibe full of drama with smart touches of Goth.
While every track contains moments I like, some simply don’t come together. “Seeking Revenge” adds pop-like female vocals to a groove-heavy melodeath attack that never really takes flight, and “With Outlandish Desire to Disobey” is a night club-friendly goth rocker with poppy female vocals that feels underbaked and flat. Elsewhere, “The Traders of Anathema” fuses epic moments with thrash and groove-metal and it falls short of success. The alchemy that carried them through the last few albums is less prevalent here, and though moments of inspired lunacy appear, only about half the songs really resonate with me and make me want to hear them again. After repeated spins, rather than coming together and making more sense, Children of Eve feels disjointed and patched together with Fruit Stripe gum and duct tape. You can almost hear the styles grinding against each other like tectonic plates rather than coalescing into something interesting. It’s a credit to Nightfall that even when things go pear-shaped, the songs are never outright bad, just tepid.
Efthimis Karadimas is the sole original member and he guides the ship. I’ve always enjoyed his vocals and his flair for the dramatic, and his booming death bellows still carry weight. He also wisely switches up styles enough over the album to avoid sounding one-note. Kostas Kyriakopoulos does a decent job dabbling in riffs from across the metal spectrum and there are high points where he steals the show, though too much of his riffage feels generic and basic. Fotis Giannakopoulos (Nightrage, ex-SepticFlesh) does a fine job brutalizing the skins, thundering along as the band shifts styles and genres on a whim. It’s not a talent issue this time, just a cohesive and memorable writing issue.
Nightfall have a long and unusual track record and they’ve had their share of hits and misses. This is the least compelling release since the early aughts, and though I doubt I’ll be returning to it, I can’t say it’s wholly lacking in merit. If you wish Rotting Christ was more adventurous and freaky, this might resonate, and there are a handful of interesting songs present. It just needs more…Gorilla Glue.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: nightfall.gr | nightfallofficial.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/nightfallband
Releases Worldwide: May 2nd, 2025#25 #2025 #ChildrenOfEve #GothicHeavyMetal #May25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Moonspell #Nightfall #Review #Reviews #RottingChrist #SeasonOfMistRecords #SepticFlesh
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Nightfall – Children of Eve Review
By Steel Druhm
Greek oddballs, Nightfall have always been unpredictable and difficult to pigeonhole to any one genre or scene. Though they came out of the same scene as Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, their style wandered over the map much more, flirting with Goth rock, melodeath and various shades of blackened traditional metal. Every time a new album appears, you go in not knowing what to expect. 2021’s At Night We Prey was a dark, brooding affair borrowing from Moonspell and SepticFlesh without fully abandoning their quirks and intrinsic weirdness. Children of Eve stays more or less in the same general vicinity, adding more Goth broth to the pot as they walk the edges of multiple styles. Can they continue their streak of quality releases, or will the wheels finally come of your Rube Goldberg-esque musical contraption?
As with any Nightfall release, it takes a few spins to get a handle on what is going on and whether it works for you. Opener “I Hate” is like a forced marriage between Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, and though it’s very bombastic and over-the-top, it still works at a core level through sheer blunt force. It’s heavy enough to satisfy, with hooks to tickle the brainpan, and vocalist Efthimis Karadimas’ death bellows work hard to keep you invested. The haunting female vocals that counterpoint his death roars are effective, and the song paints a dark, occult atmosphere. “The Cannibal” ups the heaviness significantly, approximating Behemoth at points while also dropping a chorus that’s so Amon Amarth, that they should start preparing for a raiding party to hit their town. From there things jump around and shift styles. “Lurking” has a grungy black n’ roll energy with more Amon Amarthing wedged in, and “For the Expelled Ones” sounds a lot like the Insomnium’s pairing with Rotting Christ on “White Christ,” with Efthimis mimicing Sakis Tolis vocally. Closer “Christian Svengali” goes for a kind of epic doom and pulls it off, creating a larger-than-life vibe full of drama with smart touches of Goth.
While every track contains moments I like, some simply don’t come together. “Seeking Revenge” adds pop-like female vocals to a groove-heavy melodeath attack that never really takes flight, and “With Outlandish Desire to Disobey” is a night club-friendly goth rocker with poppy female vocals that feels underbaked and flat. Elsewhere, “The Traders of Anathema” fuses epic moments with thrash and groove-metal and it falls short of success. The alchemy that carried them through the last few albums is less prevalent here, and though moments of inspired lunacy appear, only about half the songs really resonate with me and make me want to hear them again. After repeated spins, rather than coming together and making more sense, Children of Eve feels disjointed and patched together with Fruit Stripe gum and duct tape. You can almost hear the styles grinding against each other like tectonic plates rather than coalescing into something interesting. It’s a credit to Nightfall that even when things go pear-shaped, the songs are never outright bad, just tepid.
Efthimis Karadimas is the sole original member and he guides the ship. I’ve always enjoyed his vocals and his flair for the dramatic, and his booming death bellows still carry weight. He also wisely switches up styles enough over the album to avoid sounding one-note. Kostas Kyriakopoulos does a decent job dabbling in riffs from across the metal spectrum and there are high points where he steals the show, though too much of his riffage feels generic and basic. Fotis Giannakopoulos (Nightrage, ex-SepticFlesh) does a fine job brutalizing the skins, thundering along as the band shifts styles and genres on a whim. It’s not a talent issue this time, just a cohesive and memorable writing issue.
Nightfall have a long and unusual track record and they’ve had their share of hits and misses. This is the least compelling release since the early aughts, and though I doubt I’ll be returning to it, I can’t say it’s wholly lacking in merit. If you wish Rotting Christ was more adventurous and freaky, this might resonate, and there are a handful of interesting songs present. It just needs more…Gorilla Glue.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: nightfall.gr | nightfallofficial.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/nightfallband
Releases Worldwide: May 2nd, 2025#25 #2025 #ChildrenOfEve #GothicHeavyMetal #May25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Moonspell #Nightfall #Review #Reviews #RottingChrist #SeasonOfMistRecords #SepticFlesh
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Nightfall – Children of Eve Review
By Steel Druhm
Greek oddballs, Nightfall have always been unpredictable and difficult to pigeonhole to any one genre or scene. Though they came out of the same scene as Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, their style wandered over the map much more, flirting with Goth rock, melodeath and various shades of blackened traditional metal. Every time a new album appears, you go in not knowing what to expect. 2021’s At Night We Prey was a dark, brooding affair borrowing from Moonspell and SepticFlesh without fully abandoning their quirks and intrinsic weirdness. Children of Eve stays more or less in the same general vicinity, adding more Goth broth to the pot as they walk the edges of multiple styles. Can they continue their streak of quality releases, or will the wheels finally come of your Rube Goldberg-esque musical contraption?
As with any Nightfall release, it takes a few spins to get a handle on what is going on and whether it works for you. Opener “I Hate” is like a forced marriage between Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, and though it’s very bombastic and over-the-top, it still works at a core level through sheer blunt force. It’s heavy enough to satisfy, with hooks to tickle the brainpan, and vocalist Efthimis Karadimas’ death bellows work hard to keep you invested. The haunting female vocals that counterpoint his death roars are effective, and the song paints a dark, occult atmosphere. “The Cannibal” ups the heaviness significantly, approximating Behemoth at points while also dropping a chorus that’s so Amon Amarth, that they should start preparing for a raiding party to hit their town. From there things jump around and shift styles. “Lurking” has a grungy black n’ roll energy with more Amon Amarthing wedged in, and “For the Expelled Ones” sounds a lot like the Insomnium’s pairing with Rotting Christ on “White Christ,” with Efthimis mimicing Sakis Tolis vocally. Closer “Christian Svengali” goes for a kind of epic doom and pulls it off, creating a larger-than-life vibe full of drama with smart touches of Goth.
While every track contains moments I like, some simply don’t come together. “Seeking Revenge” adds pop-like female vocals to a groove-heavy melodeath attack that never really takes flight, and “With Outlandish Desire to Disobey” is a night club-friendly goth rocker with poppy female vocals that feels underbaked and flat. Elsewhere, “The Traders of Anathema” fuses epic moments with thrash and groove-metal and it falls short of success. The alchemy that carried them through the last few albums is less prevalent here, and though moments of inspired lunacy appear, only about half the songs really resonate with me and make me want to hear them again. After repeated spins, rather than coming together and making more sense, Children of Eve feels disjointed and patched together with Fruit Stripe gum and duct tape. You can almost hear the styles grinding against each other like tectonic plates rather than coalescing into something interesting. It’s a credit to Nightfall that even when things go pear-shaped, the songs are never outright bad, just tepid.
Efthimis Karadimas is the sole original member and he guides the ship. I’ve always enjoyed his vocals and his flair for the dramatic, and his booming death bellows still carry weight. He also wisely switches up styles enough over the album to avoid sounding one-note. Kostas Kyriakopoulos does a decent job dabbling in riffs from across the metal spectrum and there are high points where he steals the show, though too much of his riffage feels generic and basic. Fotis Giannakopoulos (Nightrage, ex-SepticFlesh) does a fine job brutalizing the skins, thundering along as the band shifts styles and genres on a whim. It’s not a talent issue this time, just a cohesive and memorable writing issue.
Nightfall have a long and unusual track record and they’ve had their share of hits and misses. This is the least compelling release since the early aughts, and though I doubt I’ll be returning to it, I can’t say it’s wholly lacking in merit. If you wish Rotting Christ was more adventurous and freaky, this might resonate, and there are a handful of interesting songs present. It just needs more…Gorilla Glue.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: nightfall.gr | nightfallofficial.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/nightfallband
Releases Worldwide: May 2nd, 2025#25 #2025 #ChildrenOfEve #GothicHeavyMetal #May25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Moonspell #Nightfall #Review #Reviews #RottingChrist #SeasonOfMistRecords #SepticFlesh
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Aran Angmar – Ordo Diabolicum Review
By Alekhines Gun
The first time I gave Ordo Diabolicum, the third album from international outfit Aran Angmar, a full listen, I was in the car, ruing an upcoming 12-hour day at work. The sun beat down with mockery, telling me I should be at the beach. The skyline shimmered in radiant beauty, while the birds sang songs about how every day was a day off when you’re unemployed. Suddenly, the absolute bejeebus was scared out of me as an ambulance went screaming by, sirens blasting and throttle abused to such a melodic cacophony that I watched in atypical enthrallment as it careened between the traffic ahead and disappeared behind the second star to the right. Glancing down, I noticed the name of the song escorting the ambulance towards its destination: “Chariots of Death.” I can’t say how much that experience colored my perception of the album, but I can say is this: Aran Angmar delivered an absolute tooth-and-claw-covered beast of a record that is not to be missed.
The Ordo of Diabolicum is immediacy. Across eight tracks, Aran Angmar unleash more hooks than a fisherman’s erotica, with melodic runs, choruses, and catchiness to flay eardrums and boil blood. Eschewing the more tinny, underproduced sound of second wave in favor of a much more immediate, thicccboi Hellenic sound, every cut hits with fist-pumping flair. Using the riff game of older Uada with the vocal stylings of a much more death-inclined band, Aran Angmar offers up an album that, serious artwork aside, sounds far less inclined to the darkness and more bent towards sacrifice and courage. Moments ranging from the vaguely pirate metal crowd calling bop in “Hêlēl ben-Šaḥar”1 to the enticingly heavy carrion splattering chug fest of the title track “Ordo Diabolicum” usher listeners from one slab of glory to another, each delivered with flair and flourish.
Enhancing Ordo Diabolicum is a heavy bent towards Mediterranean and Nordic instrumentation and texture. Surprisingly, this doesn’t come off as a cheap gimmick, but instead lends the choruses and hooks their own flavor. Kickoff track “Dungeons of the Damned” rocks a clean vocal wail of a line2 which has no right to be as infectious as it is, lifting an already mighty chorus to new heights. “Aeon Ablaze” tinkers with Nile-style interludes by way of modern Mystifier ritualistic chants. “Primordial Fire” boasts a host of guest instruments3 which transitions into a bounce reminiscent of Labyrinthus Stellarum doing a folk metal cover. This commitment to diverse instrumentation beyond a mere contrivance for an easy tune pays massive dividends and keeps track after track refreshing and engaging.
All of this would be for naught if the album sounded wack. Mercifully, Aran Angmar avoid such a pitfall, with each performance on Ordo Diabolicum sounding crisp and sharp. The vocals of Lord Abagor are nasty, opting for an unusually guttural approach with a double-tracked higher shriek, channeling the swagger of Amon Amarth (particularly in closing song “Vae Victis”) with the menace of Immolation. Guitar lines from Mahees are piercing and rapturous, with clean tones erupting from hazy blasted trems. Leads are gorgeous and triumphant, with harmonized melodies in “Chariots of Fire” and a beautiful solo in “Hêlēl ben-Šaḥar” standing tall among a litany of sing-along worthy licks and highlights. Alessandro Cupi’s drums are well placed; while never doing anything out of the ordinary, they come with thunder and thunk, adding heft and weight without ever overpowering the music on display.
We’ve arrived at the concluding paragraph, and I suddenly realize I’ve yet to heap scorn on much of anything. I suppose if I squint a bit, some of the atmospheric interludes don’t need to be as long as they are. The intro to “Crown of the Gods” sounds like a bit of an anticlimax compared to the rest of the album’s attention-gathering intros. And yet, I’m not sure I truly believe such ideas. Every time I’ve spun this album I’ve been left with a big dorky grin on my face, invisible oranges clutched firmly in bent palms, utterly and inarguably smitten. Aran Angmar have unleashed an album that has been an absolute joy to listen to, and a first contender for my end-of-year list. Get in on the Ordo while you can.
Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Soulseller Records
Websites: facebook.com/aranangmar | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025#2025 #40 #AmonAmarth #AranAngmar #BlackMetal #Immolation #InternationalMetal #LabrinthusStellarum #Mar25 #Mystifier #Nile #OrdoDiabolicum #Review #Reviews #SoulsellerRecords #Uada
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Aran Angmar – Ordo Diabolicum Review
By Alekhines Gun
The first time I gave Ordo Diabolicum, the third album from international outfit Aran Angmar, a full listen, I was in the car, ruing an upcoming 12-hour day at work. The sun beat down with mockery, telling me I should be at the beach. The skyline shimmered in radiant beauty, while the birds sang songs about how every day was a day off when you’re unemployed. Suddenly, the absolute bejeebus was scared out of me as an ambulance went screaming by, sirens blasting and throttle abused to such a melodic cacophony that I watched in atypical enthrallment as it careened between the traffic ahead and disappeared behind the second star to the right. Glancing down, I noticed the name of the song escorting the ambulance towards its destination: “Chariots of Death.” I can’t say how much that experience colored my perception of the album, but I can say is this: Aran Angmar delivered an absolute tooth-and-claw-covered beast of a record that is not to be missed.
The Ordo of Diabolicum is immediacy. Across eight tracks, Aran Angmar unleash more hooks than a fisherman’s erotica, with melodic runs, choruses, and catchiness to flay eardrums and boil blood. Eschewing the more tinny, underproduced sound of second wave in favor of a much more immediate, thicccboi Hellenic sound, every cut hits with fist-pumping flair. Using the riff game of older Uada with the vocal stylings of a much more death-inclined band, Aran Angmar offers up an album that, serious artwork aside, sounds far less inclined to the darkness and more bent towards sacrifice and courage. Moments ranging from the vaguely pirate metal crowd calling bop in “Hêlēl ben-Šaḥar”1 to the enticingly heavy carrion splattering chug fest of the title track “Ordo Diabolicum” usher listeners from one slab of glory to another, each delivered with flair and flourish.
Enhancing Ordo Diabolicum is a heavy bent towards Mediterranean and Nordic instrumentation and texture. Surprisingly, this doesn’t come off as a cheap gimmick, but instead lends the choruses and hooks their own flavor. Kickoff track “Dungeons of the Damned” rocks a clean vocal wail of a line2 which has no right to be as infectious as it is, lifting an already mighty chorus to new heights. “Aeon Ablaze” tinkers with Nile-style interludes by way of modern Mystifier ritualistic chants. “Primordial Fire” boasts a host of guest instruments3 which transitions into a bounce reminiscent of Labyrinthus Stellarum doing a folk metal cover. This commitment to diverse instrumentation beyond a mere contrivance for an easy tune pays massive dividends and keeps track after track refreshing and engaging.
All of this would be for naught if the album sounded wack. Mercifully, Aran Angmar avoid such a pitfall, with each performance on Ordo Diabolicum sounding crisp and sharp. The vocals of Lord Abagor are nasty, opting for an unusually guttural approach with a double-tracked higher shriek, channeling the swagger of Amon Amarth (particularly in closing song “Vae Victis”) with the menace of Immolation. Guitar lines from Mahees are piercing and rapturous, with clean tones erupting from hazy blasted trems. Leads are gorgeous and triumphant, with harmonized melodies in “Chariots of Fire” and a beautiful solo in “Hêlēl ben-Šaḥar” standing tall among a litany of sing-along worthy licks and highlights. Alessandro Cupi’s drums are well placed; while never doing anything out of the ordinary, they come with thunder and thunk, adding heft and weight without ever overpowering the music on display.
We’ve arrived at the concluding paragraph, and I suddenly realize I’ve yet to heap scorn on much of anything. I suppose if I squint a bit, some of the atmospheric interludes don’t need to be as long as they are. The intro to “Crown of the Gods” sounds like a bit of an anticlimax compared to the rest of the album’s attention-gathering intros. And yet, I’m not sure I truly believe such ideas. Every time I’ve spun this album I’ve been left with a big dorky grin on my face, invisible oranges clutched firmly in bent palms, utterly and inarguably smitten. Aran Angmar have unleashed an album that has been an absolute joy to listen to, and a first contender for my end-of-year list. Get in on the Ordo while you can.
Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Soulseller Records
Websites: facebook.com/aranangmar | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025#2025 #40 #AmonAmarth #AranAngmar #BlackMetal #Immolation #InternationalMetal #LabrinthusStellarum #Mar25 #Mystifier #Nile #OrdoDiabolicum #Review #Reviews #SoulsellerRecords #Uada
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Aran Angmar – Ordo Diabolicum Review
By Alekhines Gun
The first time I gave Ordo Diabolicum, the third album from international outfit Aran Angmar, a full listen, I was in the car, ruing an upcoming 12-hour day at work. The sun beat down with mockery, telling me I should be at the beach. The skyline shimmered in radiant beauty, while the birds sang songs about how every day was a day off when you’re unemployed. Suddenly, the absolute bejeebus was scared out of me as an ambulance went screaming by, sirens blasting and throttle abused to such a melodic cacophony that I watched in atypical enthrallment as it careened between the traffic ahead and disappeared behind the second star to the right. Glancing down, I noticed the name of the song escorting the ambulance towards its destination: “Chariots of Death.” I can’t say how much that experience colored my perception of the album, but I can say is this: Aran Angmar delivered an absolute tooth-and-claw-covered beast of a record that is not to be missed.
The Ordo of Diabolicum is immediacy. Across eight tracks, Aran Angmar unleash more hooks than a fisherman’s erotica, with melodic runs, choruses, and catchiness to flay eardrums and boil blood. Eschewing the more tinny, underproduced sound of second wave in favor of a much more immediate, thicccboi Hellenic sound, every cut hits with fist-pumping flair. Using the riff game of older Uada with the vocal stylings of a much more death-inclined band, Aran Angmar offers up an album that, serious artwork aside, sounds far less inclined to the darkness and more bent towards sacrifice and courage. Moments ranging from the vaguely pirate metal crowd calling bop in “Hêlēl ben-Šaḥar”1 to the enticingly heavy carrion splattering chug fest of the title track “Ordo Diabolicum” usher listeners from one slab of glory to another, each delivered with flair and flourish.
Enhancing Ordo Diabolicum is a heavy bent towards Mediterranean and Nordic instrumentation and texture. Surprisingly, this doesn’t come off as a cheap gimmick, but instead lends the choruses and hooks their own flavor. Kickoff track “Dungeons of the Damned” rocks a clean vocal wail of a line2 which has no right to be as infectious as it is, lifting an already mighty chorus to new heights. “Aeon Ablaze” tinkers with Nile-style interludes by way of modern Mystifier ritualistic chants. “Primordial Fire” boasts a host of guest instruments3 which transitions into a bounce reminiscent of Labyrinthus Stellarum doing a folk metal cover. This commitment to diverse instrumentation beyond a mere contrivance for an easy tune pays massive dividends and keeps track after track refreshing and engaging.
All of this would be for naught if the album sounded wack. Mercifully, Aran Angmar avoid such a pitfall, with each performance on Ordo Diabolicum sounding crisp and sharp. The vocals of Lord Abagor are nasty, opting for an unusually guttural approach with a double-tracked higher shriek, channeling the swagger of Amon Amarth (particularly in closing song “Vae Victis”) with the menace of Immolation. Guitar lines from Mahees are piercing and rapturous, with clean tones erupting from hazy blasted trems. Leads are gorgeous and triumphant, with harmonized melodies in “Chariots of Fire” and a beautiful solo in “Hêlēl ben-Šaḥar” standing tall among a litany of sing-along worthy licks and highlights. Alessandro Cupi’s drums are well placed; while never doing anything out of the ordinary, they come with thunder and thunk, adding heft and weight without ever overpowering the music on display.
We’ve arrived at the concluding paragraph, and I suddenly realize I’ve yet to heap scorn on much of anything. I suppose if I squint a bit, some of the atmospheric interludes don’t need to be as long as they are. The intro to “Crown of the Gods” sounds like a bit of an anticlimax compared to the rest of the album’s attention-gathering intros. And yet, I’m not sure I truly believe such ideas. Every time I’ve spun this album I’ve been left with a big dorky grin on my face, invisible oranges clutched firmly in bent palms, utterly and inarguably smitten. Aran Angmar have unleashed an album that has been an absolute joy to listen to, and a first contender for my end-of-year list. Get in on the Ordo while you can.
Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Soulseller Records
Websites: facebook.com/aranangmar | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025#2025 #40 #AmonAmarth #AranAngmar #BlackMetal #Immolation #InternationalMetal #LabrinthusStellarum #Mar25 #Mystifier #Nile #OrdoDiabolicum #Review #Reviews #SoulsellerRecords #Uada
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Aran Angmar – Ordo Diabolicum Review
By Alekhines Gun
The first time I gave Ordo Diabolicum, the third album from international outfit Aran Angmar, a full listen, I was in the car, ruing an upcoming 12-hour day at work. The sun beat down with mockery, telling me I should be at the beach. The skyline shimmered in radiant beauty, while the birds sang songs about how every day was a day off when you’re unemployed. Suddenly, the absolute bejeebus was scared out of me as an ambulance went screaming by, sirens blasting and throttle abused to such a melodic cacophony that I watched in atypical enthrallment as it careened between the traffic ahead and disappeared behind the second star to the right. Glancing down, I noticed the name of the song escorting the ambulance towards its destination: “Chariots of Death.” I can’t say how much that experience colored my perception of the album, but I can say is this: Aran Angmar delivered an absolute tooth-and-claw-covered beast of a record that is not to be missed.
The Ordo of Diabolicum is immediacy. Across eight tracks, Aran Angmar unleash more hooks than a fisherman’s erotica, with melodic runs, choruses, and catchiness to flay eardrums and boil blood. Eschewing the more tinny, underproduced sound of second wave in favor of a much more immediate, thicccboi Hellenic sound, every cut hits with fist-pumping flair. Using the riff game of older Uada with the vocal stylings of a much more death-inclined band, Aran Angmar offers up an album that, serious artwork aside, sounds far less inclined to the darkness and more bent towards sacrifice and courage. Moments ranging from the vaguely pirate metal crowd calling bop in “Hêlēl ben-Šaḥar”1 to the enticingly heavy carrion splattering chug fest of the title track “Ordo Diabolicum” usher listeners from one slab of glory to another, each delivered with flair and flourish.
Enhancing Ordo Diabolicum is a heavy bent towards Mediterranean and Nordic instrumentation and texture. Surprisingly, this doesn’t come off as a cheap gimmick, but instead lends the choruses and hooks their own flavor. Kickoff track “Dungeons of the Damned” rocks a clean vocal wail of a line2 which has no right to be as infectious as it is, lifting an already mighty chorus to new heights. “Aeon Ablaze” tinkers with Nile-style interludes by way of modern Mystifier ritualistic chants. “Primordial Fire” boasts a host of guest instruments3 which transitions into a bounce reminiscent of Labyrinthus Stellarum doing a folk metal cover. This commitment to diverse instrumentation beyond a mere contrivance for an easy tune pays massive dividends and keeps track after track refreshing and engaging.
All of this would be for naught if the album sounded wack. Mercifully, Aran Angmar avoid such a pitfall, with each performance on Ordo Diabolicum sounding crisp and sharp. The vocals of Lord Abagor are nasty, opting for an unusually guttural approach with a double-tracked higher shriek, channeling the swagger of Amon Amarth (particularly in closing song “Vae Victis”) with the menace of Immolation. Guitar lines from Mahees are piercing and rapturous, with clean tones erupting from hazy blasted trems. Leads are gorgeous and triumphant, with harmonized melodies in “Chariots of Fire” and a beautiful solo in “Hêlēl ben-Šaḥar” standing tall among a litany of sing-along worthy licks and highlights. Alessandro Cupi’s drums are well placed; while never doing anything out of the ordinary, they come with thunder and thunk, adding heft and weight without ever overpowering the music on display.
We’ve arrived at the concluding paragraph, and I suddenly realize I’ve yet to heap scorn on much of anything. I suppose if I squint a bit, some of the atmospheric interludes don’t need to be as long as they are. The intro to “Crown of the Gods” sounds like a bit of an anticlimax compared to the rest of the album’s attention-gathering intros. And yet, I’m not sure I truly believe such ideas. Every time I’ve spun this album I’ve been left with a big dorky grin on my face, invisible oranges clutched firmly in bent palms, utterly and inarguably smitten. Aran Angmar have unleashed an album that has been an absolute joy to listen to, and a first contender for my end-of-year list. Get in on the Ordo while you can.
Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Soulseller Records
Websites: facebook.com/aranangmar | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025#2025 #40 #AmonAmarth #AranAngmar #BlackMetal #Immolation #InternationalMetal #LabrinthusStellarum #Mar25 #Mystifier #Nile #OrdoDiabolicum #Review #Reviews #SoulsellerRecords #Uada
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Aeon of Awareness – The Embracing Light of Rarohenga Review
By GardensTale
You know, I’m rather proud of the impact we have at AMG. Bands we spotlight see a measurable increase in sales and engagement, even when the review did not come with enthusiastic recommendations. We’re receiving more and more promos directly from bands with a request for review, many of them unsigned. It takes balls to do that, and I think that deserves reward. The reward is brutal, uncompromising honesty. I’ve decided to focus on these promos more this year, and first in line is The Embracing Light of Rarohenga, the debut from German melodeath outfit Aeon of Awareness.
Considering the theme comes from Māori mythology and some of the lyrics are in its language, I was starting to think founder Per Lümbersson or vocalist Meta List must have had Māori roots, but I was mistaken. If you expected those influences to extend to the music, like how Alien Weaponry uses Haka structures in their riffs, you’d be mistaken, too. Instead, Aeon of Awareness pays tribute primarily to chunky Scandinavian melodic death, most obviously Amon Amarth. Though some tracks (“Lebenslast,” “Hine-nui-te-pō”) wrap the package in more melancholic, Insomniummy bookends, once the big mid-paced riffs start coming, they don’t stop coming. While arguably derivative, the hooks have the required size and energy to get the head bobbing and the face stanking, and they are more than a match for the Swedish Vikings’ more recent offers, in particular the thundering main riff of “Lebenslast.”
The back half branches out a little more. “Ira Di(e)mensions” hikes the speed and aggression up to something more akin to Unleashed, and “Fort Forest” holds a thrashy edge before gradually slowing down past the midway point. “King Kauri” even throws in some harmonies that seem to be inspired by Be’lakor. Though Aeon of Awareness still doesn’t escape the feeling of swéjà vu, it mixes up the compositions and varies the pace and approach enough to keep Rarohenga reasonably fresh and engaging across the brisk 40 minutes.
But where the guitars steal the show with fun headbangable riffwork, and the bass puts on a nice supporting rumble, the vocals and drums lag behind. Neither is outright bad, though. The growls simply lack both personality and impact, remaining confined to a low, stoic and slightly breathy growl, with occasional backup from an unconvincing blackened rasp. There’s not much variety to its delivery, and that leads to levelling out the intensity of the music as a whole, paying with dynamics in execution more than in songwriting. The drums are a different issue though. They are played with competence and enthusiasm, but everything sounds so triggered I actually thought it was a drum machine at first. Every kick and every snare is at the exact same volume, which can get grating fast when the blasts begin. I’m not enough of a music producer to deduce the cause of the problem; all I know is, despite crediting a human drummer, they sound as mechanical as programmed drums.
All things considered, The Embracing Light of Rarohenga is a promising debut with a few issues holding it back. The core is there; solid songwriting, strong hooks, a good sense of flow and variety. Aside from the drums, the production is competent, the mix very decent. But Aeon of Awareness desperately needs something to stand out from the crowd. Wearing your inspirations on your sleeve is not a problem when you are firing on every cylinder across the board harder than any of your peers, but with quite average vocals and the issue of the flat-sounding drums, this band is not up to that level yet. But for those craving a bite-size dose of Amarthian riffs, you won’t be disappointed.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-released
Websites: aeonofawareness.bandcamp.com | aeonofawareness.com | facebook.com/AoA666
Releases Worldwide: January 17th, 2025#25 #2025 #AeonOfAwareness #AlienWeaponry #AmonAmarth #BeLakor #GermanMetal #Insomnium #Jan25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #TheEmbracingLightOfRarohenga #Unleashed
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Aeon of Awareness – The Embracing Light of Rarohenga Review
By GardensTale
You know, I’m rather proud of the impact we have at AMG. Bands we spotlight see a measurable increase in sales and engagement, even when the review did not come with enthusiastic recommendations. We’re receiving more and more promos directly from bands with a request for review, many of them unsigned. It takes balls to do that, and I think that deserves reward. The reward is brutal, uncompromising honesty. I’ve decided to focus on these promos more this year, and first in line is The Embracing Light of Rarohenga, the debut from German melodeath outfit Aeon of Awareness.
Considering the theme comes from Māori mythology and some of the lyrics are in its language, I was starting to think founder Per Lümbersson or vocalist Meta List must have had Māori roots, but I was mistaken. If you expected those influences to extend to the music, like how Alien Weaponry uses Haka structures in their riffs, you’d be mistaken, too. Instead, Aeon of Awareness pays tribute primarily to chunky Scandinavian melodic death, most obviously Amon Amarth. Though some tracks (“Lebenslast,” “Hine-nui-te-pō”) wrap the package in more melancholic, Insomniummy bookends, once the big mid-paced riffs start coming, they don’t stop coming. While arguably derivative, the hooks have the required size and energy to get the head bobbing and the face stanking, and they are more than a match for the Swedish Vikings’ more recent offers, in particular the thundering main riff of “Lebenslast.”
The back half branches out a little more. “Ira Di(e)mensions” hikes the speed and aggression up to something more akin to Unleashed, and “Fort Forest” holds a thrashy edge before gradually slowing down past the midway point. “King Kauri” even throws in some harmonies that seem to be inspired by Be’lakor. Though Aeon of Awareness still doesn’t escape the feeling of swéjà vu, it mixes up the compositions and varies the pace and approach enough to keep Rarohenga reasonably fresh and engaging across the brisk 40 minutes.
But where the guitars steal the show with fun headbangable riffwork, and the bass puts on a nice supporting rumble, the vocals and drums lag behind. Neither is outright bad, though. The growls simply lack both personality and impact, remaining confined to a low, stoic and slightly breathy growl, with occasional backup from an unconvincing blackened rasp. There’s not much variety to its delivery, and that leads to levelling out the intensity of the music as a whole, paying with dynamics in execution more than in songwriting. The drums are a different issue though. They are played with competence and enthusiasm, but everything sounds so triggered I actually thought it was a drum machine at first. Every kick and every snare is at the exact same volume, which can get grating fast when the blasts begin. I’m not enough of a music producer to deduce the cause of the problem; all I know is, despite crediting a human drummer, they sound as mechanical as programmed drums.
All things considered, The Embracing Light of Rarohenga is a promising debut with a few issues holding it back. The core is there; solid songwriting, strong hooks, a good sense of flow and variety. Aside from the drums, the production is competent, the mix very decent. But Aeon of Awareness desperately needs something to stand out from the crowd. Wearing your inspirations on your sleeve is not a problem when you are firing on every cylinder across the board harder than any of your peers, but with quite average vocals and the issue of the flat-sounding drums, this band is not up to that level yet. But for those craving a bite-size dose of Amarthian riffs, you won’t be disappointed.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-released
Websites: aeonofawareness.bandcamp.com | aeonofawareness.com | facebook.com/AoA666
Releases Worldwide: January 17th, 2025#25 #2025 #AeonOfAwareness #AlienWeaponry #AmonAmarth #BeLakor #GermanMetal #Insomnium #Jan25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #TheEmbracingLightOfRarohenga #Unleashed
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Aeon of Awareness – The Embracing Light of Rarohenga Review
By GardensTale
You know, I’m rather proud of the impact we have at AMG. Bands we spotlight see a measurable increase in sales and engagement, even when the review did not come with enthusiastic recommendations. We’re receiving more and more promos directly from bands with a request for review, many of them unsigned. It takes balls to do that, and I think that deserves reward. The reward is brutal, uncompromising honesty. I’ve decided to focus on these promos more this year, and first in line is The Embracing Light of Rarohenga, the debut from German melodeath outfit Aeon of Awareness.
Considering the theme comes from Māori mythology and some of the lyrics are in its language, I was starting to think founder Per Lümbersson or vocalist Meta List must have had Māori roots, but I was mistaken. If you expected those influences to extend to the music, like how Alien Weaponry uses Haka structures in their riffs, you’d be mistaken, too. Instead, Aeon of Awareness pays tribute primarily to chunky Scandinavian melodic death, most obviously Amon Amarth. Though some tracks (“Lebenslast,” “Hine-nui-te-pō”) wrap the package in more melancholic, Insomniummy bookends, once the big mid-paced riffs start coming, they don’t stop coming. While arguably derivative, the hooks have the required size and energy to get the head bobbing and the face stanking, and they are more than a match for the Swedish Vikings’ more recent offers, in particular the thundering main riff of “Lebenslast.”
The back half branches out a little more. “Ira Di(e)mensions” hikes the speed and aggression up to something more akin to Unleashed, and “Fort Forest” holds a thrashy edge before gradually slowing down past the midway point. “King Kauri” even throws in some harmonies that seem to be inspired by Be’lakor. Though Aeon of Awareness still doesn’t escape the feeling of swéjà vu, it mixes up the compositions and varies the pace and approach enough to keep Rarohenga reasonably fresh and engaging across the brisk 40 minutes.
But where the guitars steal the show with fun headbangable riffwork, and the bass puts on a nice supporting rumble, the vocals and drums lag behind. Neither is outright bad, though. The growls simply lack both personality and impact, remaining confined to a low, stoic and slightly breathy growl, with occasional backup from an unconvincing blackened rasp. There’s not much variety to its delivery, and that leads to levelling out the intensity of the music as a whole, paying with dynamics in execution more than in songwriting. The drums are a different issue though. They are played with competence and enthusiasm, but everything sounds so triggered I actually thought it was a drum machine at first. Every kick and every snare is at the exact same volume, which can get grating fast when the blasts begin. I’m not enough of a music producer to deduce the cause of the problem; all I know is, despite crediting a human drummer, they sound as mechanical as programmed drums.
All things considered, The Embracing Light of Rarohenga is a promising debut with a few issues holding it back. The core is there; solid songwriting, strong hooks, a good sense of flow and variety. Aside from the drums, the production is competent, the mix very decent. But Aeon of Awareness desperately needs something to stand out from the crowd. Wearing your inspirations on your sleeve is not a problem when you are firing on every cylinder across the board harder than any of your peers, but with quite average vocals and the issue of the flat-sounding drums, this band is not up to that level yet. But for those craving a bite-size dose of Amarthian riffs, you won’t be disappointed.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-released
Websites: aeonofawareness.bandcamp.com | aeonofawareness.com | facebook.com/AoA666
Releases Worldwide: January 17th, 2025#25 #2025 #AeonOfAwareness #AlienWeaponry #AmonAmarth #BeLakor #GermanMetal #Insomnium #Jan25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #TheEmbracingLightOfRarohenga #Unleashed
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Aeon of Awareness – The Embracing Light of Rarohenga Review
By GardensTale
You know, I’m rather proud of the impact we have at AMG. Bands we spotlight see a measurable increase in sales and engagement, even when the review did not come with enthusiastic recommendations. We’re receiving more and more promos directly from bands with a request for review, many of them unsigned. It takes balls to do that, and I think that deserves reward. The reward is brutal, uncompromising honesty. I’ve decided to focus on these promos more this year, and first in line is The Embracing Light of Rarohenga, the debut from German melodeath outfit Aeon of Awareness.
Considering the theme comes from Māori mythology and some of the lyrics are in its language, I was starting to think founder Per Lümbersson or vocalist Meta List must have had Māori roots, but I was mistaken. If you expected those influences to extend to the music, like how Alien Weaponry uses Haka structures in their riffs, you’d be mistaken, too. Instead, Aeon of Awareness pays tribute primarily to chunky Scandinavian melodic death, most obviously Amon Amarth. Though some tracks (“Lebenslast,” “Hine-nui-te-pō”) wrap the package in more melancholic, Insomniummy bookends, once the big mid-paced riffs start coming, they don’t stop coming. While arguably derivative, the hooks have the required size and energy to get the head bobbing and the face stanking, and they are more than a match for the Swedish Vikings’ more recent offers, in particular the thundering main riff of “Lebenslast.”
The back half branches out a little more. “Ira Di(e)mensions” hikes the speed and aggression up to something more akin to Unleashed, and “Fort Forest” holds a thrashy edge before gradually slowing down past the midway point. “King Kauri” even throws in some harmonies that seem to be inspired by Be’lakor. Though Aeon of Awareness still doesn’t escape the feeling of swéjà vu, it mixes up the compositions and varies the pace and approach enough to keep Rarohenga reasonably fresh and engaging across the brisk 40 minutes.
But where the guitars steal the show with fun headbangable riffwork, and the bass puts on a nice supporting rumble, the vocals and drums lag behind. Neither is outright bad, though. The growls simply lack both personality and impact, remaining confined to a low, stoic and slightly breathy growl, with occasional backup from an unconvincing blackened rasp. There’s not much variety to its delivery, and that leads to levelling out the intensity of the music as a whole, paying with dynamics in execution more than in songwriting. The drums are a different issue though. They are played with competence and enthusiasm, but everything sounds so triggered I actually thought it was a drum machine at first. Every kick and every snare is at the exact same volume, which can get grating fast when the blasts begin. I’m not enough of a music producer to deduce the cause of the problem; all I know is, despite crediting a human drummer, they sound as mechanical as programmed drums.
All things considered, The Embracing Light of Rarohenga is a promising debut with a few issues holding it back. The core is there; solid songwriting, strong hooks, a good sense of flow and variety. Aside from the drums, the production is competent, the mix very decent. But Aeon of Awareness desperately needs something to stand out from the crowd. Wearing your inspirations on your sleeve is not a problem when you are firing on every cylinder across the board harder than any of your peers, but with quite average vocals and the issue of the flat-sounding drums, this band is not up to that level yet. But for those craving a bite-size dose of Amarthian riffs, you won’t be disappointed.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-released
Websites: aeonofawareness.bandcamp.com | aeonofawareness.com | facebook.com/AoA666
Releases Worldwide: January 17th, 2025#25 #2025 #AeonOfAwareness #AlienWeaponry #AmonAmarth #BeLakor #GermanMetal #Insomnium #Jan25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #TheEmbracingLightOfRarohenga #Unleashed
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The Crown – Crown of Thorns Review
By Carcharodon
The Crown is a metal institution. These Swedes have been pumping out furious death-infused thrash for over 25 years, with no real missteps. Indeed, we at AMG Industries have been tongue-bathing them since, Doomsday King, their 2010 comeback following a six-year hiatus, on which a younger, looser Steel Druhm splurged a (rather generous) 4.5. The slightly more divisive Death Is Not Dead (2015) saw original vocalist Johan Lindstrand return and garnered a gushing 4.0, as did 2018’s Cobra Speed Venom (although I can’t blame Steel for either of those). Indeed, it wasn’t until 2021’s Royal Destroyer that a dose of that famed AMG restraint was introduced, with a ‘mere’ 3.0 awarded. This rash of high scores—from three different reviewers—goes some way to showing both the consistency of The Crown’s output and the regard in which they are held. Back with their 12th full-length, Crown of Thorns, I’m the fourth reviewer here to tackle output from The Crown. I do hope that doesn’t bode ill for that poor, savaged score safety counter.
If anyone was afraid that, a quarter of a century into their career, The Crown would suddenly have a ‘moment’ (like The Haunted did on Unseen, for example), you can relax. Well, not relax exactly, but stop worrying. Crown of Thorns rips into furious, pummelling life right out the gates on “I Hunt with the Devil.” A lot of Crown of Thorns hearkens back to Cobra Speed Venom or even Doomsday King, leaning into At the Gates (“God-King”) and even Dark Tranquility (“Martyrian”). The Amon Amarth vibes, which were strong on Royal Destroyer, are dialed back, as are the longer songs, with only two clearing the five-minute mark (one of those a bonus track).
Indeed, much of Crown of Thorns has a frantic energy to it. The raging “The Agitator” rips through its sub-two-minute run with such urgency that The Crown risks getting a speed metal tag. And, where those Amon Amarth influences remain, they are very well executed (“Churchburner”), with Lindstrand’s trademark snarling bark ensuring The Crown still sounds like … well, The Crown. Where things get a bit weird, is when the tempo comes down. Dynamics are no bad thing, of course, they give the breakneck sections more impact. However, it’s almost like the band felt that dropping the pace left some unused space they needed to find a way to fill. Their solution? Add a load of effects, echoes, and reverb onto the vocals, sometimes introducing a half-whispered delivery (“Gone to Hell” and parts of “The Night Is Now”).
In many ways, The Crown delivers exactly what you expect and want on Crown of Thorns. Churning, expertly crafted, thrashy melodeath riffs. Delivered by Marcus Sunesson and Marco Tervonen, the guitarists traffic in that unmistakably Swedish style, with a sharp, almost blackened edge to the guitar tone to give just a little extra bite. However, it’s a shame that two of the strongest songs (“Eternally Infernal” and “No Fuel for God”) were relegated to bonus tracks. By contrast, a few of the writing choices made on the album proper were slightly more questionable. The opening, bass-led groove of “Gone to Hell” could easily have come off a Warrior Soul record and, even when it kicks up a bit, it lacks bite. The same charge could be laid at the door of “The Night Is Now” and “Where Nightmares Belong.” The production is also rougher than I’d like. There is something slightly off with the top end of the guitars, which occasionally have a waspish buzz (most notable on “Howling at the Warfield”),1 while the drums often seem to get swallowed.
If you’re a fan of The Crown, there’s enough here to enjoy and remind you of what you love about them. Yet, in their heavier sound, the melodicism has been sacrificed for all-out speed, while in the slower material, they’ve resorted to unnecessary bells and whistles that give Crown of Thorns a slightly artificial feel. At its best (“I Hunt with the Devil” and “Churchburner”), Crown of Thorns is straight-up fun. But highlights aside, Crown of Thorns just feels a touch tired and The Crown feels like a band searching around for new inspiration. If you’re new to The Crown, this isn’t the place to start.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: thecrownofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/thecrownofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 11th, 2024#25 #2024 #AmonAmarth #AtTheGates #CrownOfThorns #DarkTranquility #DeathMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #MetalBlade #Oct24 #Review #Reviews #SpeedMetal #SwedishMetal #TheCrown #TheHaunted #ThrashMetal #WarriorSoul
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The Crown – Crown of Thorns Review
By Carcharodon
The Crown is a metal institution. These Swedes have been pumping out furious death-infused thrash for over 25 years, with no real missteps. Indeed, we at AMG Industries have been tongue-bathing them since, Doomsday King, their 2010 comeback following a six-year hiatus, on which a younger, looser Steel Druhm splurged a (rather generous) 4.5. The slightly more divisive Death Is Not Dead (2015) saw original vocalist Johan Lindstrand return and garnered a gushing 4.0, as did 2018’s Cobra Speed Venom (although I can’t blame Steel for either of those). Indeed, it wasn’t until 2021’s Royal Destroyer that a dose of that famed AMG restraint was introduced, with a ‘mere’ 3.0 awarded. This rash of high scores—from three different reviewers—goes some way to showing both the consistency of The Crown’s output and the regard in which they are held. Back with their 12th full-length, Crown of Thorns, I’m the fourth reviewer here to tackle output from The Crown. I do hope that doesn’t bode ill for that poor, savaged score safety counter.
If anyone was afraid that, a quarter of a century into their career, The Crown would suddenly have a ‘moment’ (like The Haunted did on Unseen, for example), you can relax. Well, not relax exactly, but stop worrying. Crown of Thorns rips into furious, pummelling life right out the gates on “I Hunt with the Devil.” A lot of Crown of Thorns hearkens back to Cobra Speed Venom or even Doomsday King, leaning into At the Gates (“God-King”) and even Dark Tranquility (“Martyrian”). The Amon Amarth vibes, which were strong on Royal Destroyer, are dialed back, as are the longer songs, with only two clearing the five-minute mark (one of those a bonus track).
Indeed, much of Crown of Thorns has a frantic energy to it. The raging “The Agitator” rips through its sub-two-minute run with such urgency that The Crown risks getting a speed metal tag. And, where those Amon Amarth influences remain, they are very well executed (“Churchburner”), with Lindstrand’s trademark snarling bark ensuring The Crown still sounds like … well, The Crown. Where things get a bit weird, is when the tempo comes down. Dynamics are no bad thing, of course, they give the breakneck sections more impact. However, it’s almost like the band felt that dropping the pace left some unused space they needed to find a way to fill. Their solution? Add a load of effects, echoes, and reverb onto the vocals, sometimes introducing a half-whispered delivery (“Gone to Hell” and parts of “The Night Is Now”).
In many ways, The Crown delivers exactly what you expect and want on Crown of Thorns. Churning, expertly crafted, thrashy melodeath riffs. Delivered by Marcus Sunesson and Marco Tervonen, the guitarists traffic in that unmistakably Swedish style, with a sharp, almost blackened edge to the guitar tone to give just a little extra bite. However, it’s a shame that two of the strongest songs (“Eternally Infernal” and “No Fuel for God”) were relegated to bonus tracks. By contrast, a few of the writing choices made on the album proper were slightly more questionable. The opening, bass-led groove of “Gone to Hell” could easily have come off a Warrior Soul record and, even when it kicks up a bit, it lacks bite. The same charge could be laid at the door of “The Night Is Now” and “Where Nightmares Belong.” The production is also rougher than I’d like. There is something slightly off with the top end of the guitars, which occasionally have a waspish buzz (most notable on “Howling at the Warfield”),1 while the drums often seem to get swallowed.
If you’re a fan of The Crown, there’s enough here to enjoy and remind you of what you love about them. Yet, in their heavier sound, the melodicism has been sacrificed for all-out speed, while in the slower material, they’ve resorted to unnecessary bells and whistles that give Crown of Thorns a slightly artificial feel. At its best (“I Hunt with the Devil” and “Churchburner”), Crown of Thorns is straight-up fun. But highlights aside, Crown of Thorns just feels a touch tired and The Crown feels like a band searching around for new inspiration. If you’re new to The Crown, this isn’t the place to start.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: thecrownofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/thecrownofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 11th, 2024#25 #2024 #AmonAmarth #AtTheGates #CrownOfThorns #DarkTranquility #DeathMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #MetalBlade #Oct24 #Review #Reviews #SpeedMetal #SwedishMetal #TheCrown #TheHaunted #ThrashMetal #WarriorSoul
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The Crown – Crown of Thorns Review
By Carcharodon
The Crown is a metal institution. These Swedes have been pumping out furious death-infused thrash for over 25 years, with no real missteps. Indeed, we at AMG Industries have been tongue-bathing them since, Doomsday King, their 2010 comeback following a six-year hiatus, on which a younger, looser Steel Druhm splurged a (rather generous) 4.5. The slightly more divisive Death Is Not Dead (2015) saw original vocalist Johan Lindstrand return and garnered a gushing 4.0, as did 2018’s Cobra Speed Venom (although I can’t blame Steel for either of those). Indeed, it wasn’t until 2021’s Royal Destroyer that a dose of that famed AMG restraint was introduced, with a ‘mere’ 3.0 awarded. This rash of high scores—from three different reviewers—goes some way to showing both the consistency of The Crown’s output and the regard in which they are held. Back with their 12th full-length, Crown of Thorns, I’m the fourth reviewer here to tackle output from The Crown. I do hope that doesn’t bode ill for that poor, savaged score safety counter.
If anyone was afraid that, a quarter of a century into their career, The Crown would suddenly have a ‘moment’ (like The Haunted did on Unseen, for example), you can relax. Well, not relax exactly, but stop worrying. Crown of Thorns rips into furious, pummelling life right out the gates on “I Hunt with the Devil.” A lot of Crown of Thorns hearkens back to Cobra Speed Venom or even Doomsday King, leaning into At the Gates (“God-King”) and even Dark Tranquility (“Martyrian”). The Amon Amarth vibes, which were strong on Royal Destroyer, are dialed back, as are the longer songs, with only two clearing the five-minute mark (one of those a bonus track).
Indeed, much of Crown of Thorns has a frantic energy to it. The raging “The Agitator” rips through its sub-two-minute run with such urgency that The Crown risks getting a speed metal tag. And, where those Amon Amarth influences remain, they are very well executed (“Churchburner”), with Lindstrand’s trademark snarling bark ensuring The Crown still sounds like … well, The Crown. Where things get a bit weird, is when the tempo comes down. Dynamics are no bad thing, of course, they give the breakneck sections more impact. However, it’s almost like the band felt that dropping the pace left some unused space they needed to find a way to fill. Their solution? Add a load of effects, echoes, and reverb onto the vocals, sometimes introducing a half-whispered delivery (“Gone to Hell” and parts of “The Night Is Now”).
In many ways, The Crown delivers exactly what you expect and want on Crown of Thorns. Churning, expertly crafted, thrashy melodeath riffs. Delivered by Marcus Sunesson and Marco Tervonen, the guitarists traffic in that unmistakably Swedish style, with a sharp, almost blackened edge to the guitar tone to give just a little extra bite. However, it’s a shame that two of the strongest songs (“Eternally Infernal” and “No Fuel for God”) were relegated to bonus tracks. By contrast, a few of the writing choices made on the album proper were slightly more questionable. The opening, bass-led groove of “Gone to Hell” could easily have come off a Warrior Soul record and, even when it kicks up a bit, it lacks bite. The same charge could be laid at the door of “The Night Is Now” and “Where Nightmares Belong.” The production is also rougher than I’d like. There is something slightly off with the top end of the guitars, which occasionally have a waspish buzz (most notable on “Howling at the Warfield”),1 while the drums often seem to get swallowed.
If you’re a fan of The Crown, there’s enough here to enjoy and remind you of what you love about them. Yet, in their heavier sound, the melodicism has been sacrificed for all-out speed, while in the slower material, they’ve resorted to unnecessary bells and whistles that give Crown of Thorns a slightly artificial feel. At its best (“I Hunt with the Devil” and “Churchburner”), Crown of Thorns is straight-up fun. But highlights aside, Crown of Thorns just feels a touch tired and The Crown feels like a band searching around for new inspiration. If you’re new to The Crown, this isn’t the place to start.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: thecrownofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/thecrownofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 11th, 2024#25 #2024 #AmonAmarth #AtTheGates #CrownOfThorns #DarkTranquility #DeathMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #MetalBlade #Oct24 #Review #Reviews #SpeedMetal #SwedishMetal #TheCrown #TheHaunted #ThrashMetal #WarriorSoul
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By Steel Druhm
Steel Druhm Himself and Holdeneye see eye to…eye on many metal-related issues. We gravitate toward the same styles and share an appreciation for plenty of bands across the metal spectrum. It’s not all Kumbaya though, no Sireebob. I could not have agreed less with his loving review of cheese-tastic faux-Manometal act All for Metal. They’re like an even more ridiculous version of the already super ludicrous Brothers of Metal, and I couldn’t stomach the lactose overload their music flung in all directions like cheap beer at an 80s thrash-fest. Imagine then my primal shock when I grabbed the latest album from German battle metal purveyors Asenblut only to find it’s helmed by one of the vocalists of All for Metal. Yep, Tim “Tetzel” Schmidt is the main mountain of power here, delivering course, rough death vocals over a churning sea of very familiar riffs and gallops. You see, Asenblut are like a big ole’ bucket-load of recycled Amon Amarth riffs propped up with the occasional use of traditional metal muscle and power chugs. Turns out they’ve been doing this for a long time too, as Entfesselt is their fifth album, and the second we’ve reviewed here.1 So how much real raiding can a knockoff act like Asenblut pull off in a marketplace saturated with similar, better-known battle metal acts? Let us test their metal then.
The Amon Amarth-isms hit the shores fast and hard on opener “Das Ende der Götter,” which sounds like something from With Oden on Our Side, but the early, roughed-out pre-studio version before all polishing and tweaking. Burly battle riffs pump away as Mr. Tetzel does a remarkable job imitating Johan Hegg’s rough death roars and higher-pitched screeching. It’s completely serviceable to get your blood up and your battle face on, but it’s derivative enough to be unsettling, and that’s all of Entfesselt in an elevator pitch. The title track is so AA it actually dares a lawsuit from the angry Swedes. It’s anthemic and just epic enough to trigger pec flexage and sword hand cramping and it’s not bad. “Unbesiegbar” introduces some welcome Brainstorm / Mystic Prophecy influence courtesy of big, meaty riffs, and these pair well with the shameless Swede pillaging.
Tracks like “Wölfe des Meeres” and “Blut und Sand” are solid, steeped in macho bravado and barbarian rage, heavy enough to get you hostile but memorable too. Closer “Nox Nostra Est” is extra blackened and blast-happy with an epic vibe carrying the chest-thumping machismo to a higher plane. While Asenblut clearly love the sound and style laid down by their favorite act and prove quite adept at imitating them, an album’s worth of such flattering imitation can offer challenges for the listener. You start to hear bits and pieces of their target influence’s work product and wonder if the similarities are intentional or happenstance. “Arm in Arm” sounds a lot like AA’s “Victorious March,” and while I dearly love that song, this offshoot time line is less endearing. “Hexengericht” reminds me of sillier AA fare like “Raise Your Horns,” fun but throw-away. It’s nearly impossible to listen to this album and not make these mental comparisons, and I really tried. And that’s a shame since a lot of Entfesselt is enjoyable enough. Nothing Asenblut do has a trace of their own unique identity, but they sure are good mimics with impressive bench stats.
Guitarists Alex and Chris do a solid job crafting bruising battle riffs to stir the loins and put you on the the warpath. Yes, they are following a specific blueprint not their own, and sometimes their creations veer too close to their progenitors, but they get the job done nonetheless. Big Time Tim Tetzel has a respectable death roar, more raw and rough-around-the-edge than Johan Hegg, yet still similar. He provides the berserker energy and muscle, and he’s convincing as he screams of battles and glory (the lyrics are all in German so I’m making an educated guess here). The band has enough talent to pull off this style, though the compositions often feel like washed-out versions of songs you already heard on some forgotten battlefield.
As much as I hate All for Metal, I can’t bring myself to feel the same way about Asenblut. The individual parts work well enough and the songs are mostly entertaining if often rote. The real issue is whether the world needs such a blatant copycat of a better-known act. If you want more battle metal in your life and aren’t picky how much it sounds like someone else, you’ll likely get Longship mileage from Entfesselt. All others may want to wait for an authentic Viking cruise.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Massacre
Websites: asenblut.de | facebook.com/asenblutband
Releases Worldwide: August 2nd, 2024#25 #2024 #AllForMetal #AmonAmarth #Asenblut #Aug24 #Brainstorm #Entfesselt #GermanMetal #MassacreRecords #MelodicDeathMetal #MysticProphecy #Review #Reviews
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By Steel Druhm
Steel Druhm Himself and Holdeneye see eye to…eye on many metal-related issues. We gravitate toward the same styles and share an appreciation for plenty of bands across the metal spectrum. It’s not all Kumbaya though, no Sireebob. I could not have agreed less with his loving review of cheese-tastic faux-Manometal act All for Metal. They’re like an even more ridiculous version of the already super ludicrous Brothers of Metal, and I couldn’t stomach the lactose overload their music flung in all directions like cheap beer at an 80s thrash-fest. Imagine then my primal shock when I grabbed the latest album from German battle metal purveyors Asenblut only to find it’s helmed by one of the vocalists of All for Metal. Yep, Tim “Tetzel” Schmidt is the main mountain of power here, delivering course, rough death vocals over a churning sea of very familiar riffs and gallops. You see, Asenblut are like a big ole’ bucket-load of recycled Amon Amarth riffs propped up with the occasional use of traditional metal muscle and power chugs. Turns out they’ve been doing this for a long time too, as Entfesselt is their fifth album, and the second we’ve reviewed here.1 So how much real raiding can a knockoff act like Asenblut pull off in a marketplace saturated with similar, better-known battle metal acts? Let us test their metal then.
The Amon Amarth-isms hit the shores fast and hard on opener “Das Ende der Götter,” which sounds like something from With Oden on Our Side, but the early, roughed-out pre-studio version before all polishing and tweaking. Burly battle riffs pump away as Mr. Tetzel does a remarkable job imitating Johan Hegg’s rough death roars and higher-pitched screeching. It’s completely serviceable to get your blood up and your battle face on, but it’s derivative enough to be unsettling, and that’s all of Entfesselt in an elevator pitch. The title track is so AA it actually dares a lawsuit from the angry Swedes. It’s anthemic and just epic enough to trigger pec flexage and sword hand cramping and it’s not bad. “Unbesiegbar” introduces some welcome Brainstorm / Mystic Prophecy influence courtesy of big, meaty riffs, and these pair well with the shameless Swede pillaging.
Tracks like “Wölfe des Meeres” and “Blut und Sand” are solid, steeped in macho bravado and barbarian rage, heavy enough to get you hostile but memorable too. Closer “Nox Nostra Est” is extra blackened and blast-happy with an epic vibe carrying the chest-thumping machismo to a higher plane. While Asenblut clearly love the sound and style laid down by their favorite act and prove quite adept at imitating them, an album’s worth of such flattering imitation can offer challenges for the listener. You start to hear bits and pieces of their target influence’s work product and wonder if the similarities are intentional or happenstance. “Arm in Arm” sounds a lot like AA’s “Victorious March,” and while I dearly love that song, this offshoot time line is less endearing. “Hexengericht” reminds me of sillier AA fare like “Raise Your Horns,” fun but throw-away. It’s nearly impossible to listen to this album and not make these mental comparisons, and I really tried. And that’s a shame since a lot of Entfesselt is enjoyable enough. Nothing Asenblut do has a trace of their own unique identity, but they sure are good mimics with impressive bench stats.
Guitarists Alex and Chris do a solid job crafting bruising battle riffs to stir the loins and put you on the the warpath. Yes, they are following a specific blueprint not their own, and sometimes their creations veer too close to their progenitors, but they get the job done nonetheless. Big Time Tim Tetzel has a respectable death roar, more raw and rough-around-the-edge than Johan Hegg, yet still similar. He provides the berserker energy and muscle, and he’s convincing as he screams of battles and glory (the lyrics are all in German so I’m making an educated guess here). The band has enough talent to pull off this style, though the compositions often feel like washed-out versions of songs you already heard on some forgotten battlefield.
As much as I hate All for Metal, I can’t bring myself to feel the same way about Asenblut. The individual parts work well enough and the songs are mostly entertaining if often rote. The real issue is whether the world needs such a blatant copycat of a better-known act. If you want more battle metal in your life and aren’t picky how much it sounds like someone else, you’ll likely get Longship mileage from Entfesselt. All others may want to wait for an authentic Viking cruise.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Massacre
Websites: asenblut.de | facebook.com/asenblutband
Releases Worldwide: August 2nd, 2024#25 #2024 #AllForMetal #AmonAmarth #Asenblut #Aug24 #Brainstorm #Entfesselt #GermanMetal #MassacreRecords #MelodicDeathMetal #MysticProphecy #Review #Reviews
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Octoploid – Beyond the Aeons Review
By Kenstrosity
Let’s play a little game, shall we? If I put a gun to your head, and it’s a big deadly gun, what genre would you guess Finland’s Octoploid play based on the album artwork alone? Yes, I know the genre tags are right under the title of this article. I assume nobody reads those. Anyway, my first assumption viewing the artwork was stoner sludge. I couldn’t have been farther off, and that excited me beyond reason. I had to check it out. Pronto. Immediately after smashing the play button on their debut record Beyond the Aeons, I reveled in absolute joy to discover the deceptive artwork was as much a red herring as I had hoped!
Featuring members of Amorphis, Barren Earth, Mannhai, and Death Mex, Octoploid flex a wide array of music muscles that I don’t normally expect to work together. Progressive melodic death metal at its core, Beyond the Aeons evokes notes of Vulture Industries, Amorphis, Kull, Amon Amarth, Blind the Huntsmen, and In Mourning without outright mimicking any of their respective sounds. Additional, subtle threads of surf rock, pirate metal, and psychedelia brighten the record with whimsical vibrancy as well. In total, Beyond the Aeons feels like an eldritch adventure with all of the fun and none of the horror. Striking an assortment of moods ranging from righteous adventurism (“Human Amoral”) to pensive introspection (“Concealed Serenity”) and everything in between (“The Hollowed Flame”), Octoploid’s debut plays like a concept album, brimming with songwriting dynamics and intriguing twists.
Everything successful about Beyond the Aeons lies in its thoughtful and unexpected details. Opener “The Dawns in Nothingness” takes notes from Vulture Industries’ lead guitar melodies and transmogrifies them into a melodic death metal context, while dramatic organs and Gregorian chants deftly shift the mood of the song in the second half to something darker and more mysterious. Surf rock aesthetics, combined with Kull’s and Amon Amarth’s adventurous spirit, fantastic leads and solos, 80s synthwork, a delightful “la la la” introduction, and a light hit of psychedelia, merge in album standout “Human Amoral.” Delightfully twangy lead guitars and just the right amount of progressive oddities and killer riff passages tie each and every idea together wonderfully here. Simply put, it’s one of the most fun melodic death metal jams of the year. Leaning even harder into progressive metal territory and exploring a meditative side to Octoploid’s sound, “The Hallowed Flame” represents a fascinating combination of Blind the Huntsmen’s intelligent construction, Eternal Storm‘s emotional drama, and Vulture Industries’ sultry grooves. Thankfully, I don’t leave this experience despondent, thanks to closing hit “A Dusk of Vex.” Its high-energy swagger ends the record with a sort of exuberance that motivates me to hit that replay button right away, just so I can experience the whole journey again knowing I’ll get to jig with “Dusk in Vex” one more time on my way out.
Everything unsuccessful about Beyond the Aeons lies in missed opportunities. The most obvious example of this drawback, interlude “Beyond the Aeons” could’ve been a gorgeous psychedelic palette cleanser between Beyond the Aeon’s two acts. Alas, it merely jams for a brief minute before moving on. “Concealed Serenity,” coming in near the end of the runtime, lacks a compelling musical backbone to carry its somber weight. It could have been a beautiful way to further develop the smooth transition into more mournful territory introduced by “The Hallowed Flame,” but sullies the opportunity with lackluster riffs and a weak chorus. Musically, “Coast of the Drowned Sailors” and “Shattered Wings” constitute excellent pieces of whimsical death metal with righteous guitar shreddery and killer grooves, but the vocals in these tracks don’t quite clear the same high bar. Competent and well-fitting though he is, Octoploid’s vocalist had an opportunity to take more or greater risks for an even bigger payoff in these numbers. He just didn’t take them. Lastly, Beyond the Aeons is loud. Well-mixed, but loud. I would’ve enjoyed the record even more if the engineers traded in a bit of compression for an airier soundstage that allowed its multitudinous layers to breathe with even greater vitality.
Despite my critiques, I am unreasonably excited by Octoploid’s debut. It represents a side of the melodic and progressive death metal scenes that I don’t hear often, and I want so much more. Beyond the Aeon is professional, whimsical, immense fun, and dynamic to boot. That’s a rare combination. If you’re looking for something familiar, but different, Beyond the Aeons is the album for you!
Rating: Good!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Reigning Phoenix Music
Website: facebook.com/octoploidmusic
Releases Worldwide: July 5th, 2024#2024 #30 #Aeternam #AmonAmarth #Amorphis #BeyondTheAeons #BlindTheHuntsmen #DeathMetal #EternalStorm #FinnishMetal #InMourning #Jul24 #Kull #MelodicDeathMetal #Octoploid #Opeth #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #PsychedelicRock #ReigningPhoenixMusic #Review #Reviews #SurfRock #VultureIndustries
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Octoploid – Beyond the Aeons Review
By Kenstrosity
Let’s play a little game, shall we? If I put a gun to your head, and it’s a big deadly gun, what genre would you guess Finland’s Octoploid play based on the album artwork alone? Yes, I know the genre tags are right under the title of this article. I assume nobody reads those. Anyway, my first assumption viewing the artwork was stoner sludge. I couldn’t have been farther off, and that excited me beyond reason. I had to check it out. Pronto. Immediately after smashing the play button on their debut record Beyond the Aeons, I reveled in absolute joy to discover the deceptive artwork was as much a red herring as I had hoped!
Featuring members of Amorphis, Barren Earth, Mannhai, and Death Mex, Octoploid flex a wide array of music muscles that I don’t normally expect to work together. Progressive melodic death metal at its core, Beyond the Aeons evokes notes of Vulture Industries, Amorphis, Kull, Amon Amarth, Blind the Huntsmen, and In Mourning without outright mimicking any of their respective sounds. Additional, subtle threads of surf rock, pirate metal, and psychedelia brighten the record with whimsical vibrancy as well. In total, Beyond the Aeons feels like an eldritch adventure with all of the fun and none of the horror. Striking an assortment of moods ranging from righteous adventurism (“Human Amoral”) to pensive introspection (“Concealed Serenity”) and everything in between (“The Hollowed Flame”), Octoploid’s debut plays like a concept album, brimming with songwriting dynamics and intriguing twists.
Everything successful about Beyond the Aeons lies in its thoughtful and unexpected details. Opener “The Dawns in Nothingness” takes notes from Vulture Industries’ lead guitar melodies and transmogrifies them into a melodic death metal context, while dramatic organs and Gregorian chants deftly shift the mood of the song in the second half to something darker and more mysterious. Surf rock aesthetics, combined with Kull’s and Amon Amarth’s adventurous spirit, fantastic leads and solos, 80s synthwork, a delightful “la la la” introduction, and a light hit of psychedelia, merge in album standout “Human Amoral.” Delightfully twangy lead guitars and just the right amount of progressive oddities and killer riff passages tie each and every idea together wonderfully here. Simply put, it’s one of the most fun melodic death metal jams of the year. Leaning even harder into progressive metal territory and exploring a meditative side to Octoploid’s sound, “The Hallowed Flame” represents a fascinating combination of Blind the Huntsmen’s intelligent construction, Eternal Storm‘s emotional drama, and Vulture Industries’ sultry grooves. Thankfully, I don’t leave this experience despondent, thanks to closing hit “A Dusk of Vex.” Its high-energy swagger ends the record with a sort of exuberance that motivates me to hit that replay button right away, just so I can experience the whole journey again knowing I’ll get to jig with “Dusk in Vex” one more time on my way out.
Everything unsuccessful about Beyond the Aeons lies in missed opportunities. The most obvious example of this drawback, interlude “Beyond the Aeons” could’ve been a gorgeous psychedelic palette cleanser between Beyond the Aeon’s two acts. Alas, it merely jams for a brief minute before moving on. “Concealed Serenity,” coming in near the end of the runtime, lacks a compelling musical backbone to carry its somber weight. It could have been a beautiful way to further develop the smooth transition into more mournful territory introduced by “The Hallowed Flame,” but sullies the opportunity with lackluster riffs and a weak chorus. Musically, “Coast of the Drowned Sailors” and “Shattered Wings” constitute excellent pieces of whimsical death metal with righteous guitar shreddery and killer grooves, but the vocals in these tracks don’t quite clear the same high bar. Competent and well-fitting though he is, Octoploid’s vocalist had an opportunity to take more or greater risks for an even bigger payoff in these numbers. He just didn’t take them. Lastly, Beyond the Aeons is loud. Well-mixed, but loud. I would’ve enjoyed the record even more if the engineers traded in a bit of compression for an airier soundstage that allowed its multitudinous layers to breathe with even greater vitality.
Despite my critiques, I am unreasonably excited by Octoploid’s debut. It represents a side of the melodic and progressive death metal scenes that I don’t hear often, and I want so much more. Beyond the Aeon is professional, whimsical, immense fun, and dynamic to boot. That’s a rare combination. If you’re looking for something familiar, but different, Beyond the Aeons is the album for you!
Rating: Good!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Reigning Phoenix Music
Website: facebook.com/octoploidmusic
Releases Worldwide: July 5th, 2024#2024 #30 #Aeternam #AmonAmarth #Amorphis #BeyondTheAeons #BlindTheHuntsmen #DeathMetal #EternalStorm #FinnishMetal #InMourning #Jul24 #Kull #MelodicDeathMetal #Octoploid #Opeth #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #PsychedelicRock #ReigningPhoenixMusic #Review #Reviews #SurfRock #VultureIndustries
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Kvaen – The Formless Fire Review
By Cherd
Three albums into Jacob Björnfot’s run as quasi-one-man meloblack band Kvaen, certain areas of dependability have become apparent. For one thing, you know each release is going to be all about the guitars: the riffs, the leads, the melodies, the harmonies, the blistering, soaring solos. Any “atmosphere” is incidental. It’s not the point. You know those riffs and melodies are going to be easy breezy, memorable, and highly repeatable. You know on the songwriting front, you’ll get some scorching sprints and some rousing epics. And at least one song about fire. On the production side, it’s going to be clean, sharp, and precise. Kvaen’s third full-length The Formless Fire solidifies their status as extreme metal comfort food. Like that seemingly origin-less chili cheese dip Americans make for our Super Bowl parties, it’s all ingredients you’ve had in roughly similar configurations many times before, but you can’t stop eating the shit out of it.
There couldn’t be a more Kvaen song than album opener and leadoff single “The Formless Fire,” with its highly melodic tremolo riffing and oscillation between mid-paced stomp and careening blast. As usual, Björnfot manages to put onto record the kind of verve and urgency more easily conjured in live settings, both instrumentally and with his uncommonly legible black rasp vocals. His Dissection-inspired melodic black metal is the core sound of The Formless Fire, but as usual, there are other genres that creep into the mix. Previous album The Great Below often leaned into traditional heavy metal and Viking era Bathory, and while that’s been dialed back a bit here, it still emerges across the final three tracks, starting with the epic “De dödas sång.” The drumming on The Formless Fire is punchier than on past outings, making for Björnfot’s heaviest album to date. When things get chuggy on front-half cuts “Traverse the Nether” and “The Ancient Gods,” the sound even strays into blackened death metal territory. The latter especially sounds more than a little like fellow Swedes Amon Amarth, which makes sense since their former drummer Fredrik Andersson pulls kit duty here.
Kvaen is a band built for playlists, and there are plenty of bangers ready for plucking on The Formless Fire. As discussed, the title track is straight down the middle of their sound and well representative of their considerable strengths. That said, the real showstopper here is “Basilisk,” an absolutely rabid black metal barn burner that stands with the best songs from The Great Below and The Funeral Pyre. In fact, Björnfot screaming the name of the legendary monstrous serpent is up there with “Fire, Fucking Fire!” as the most inspired vocal performances in his catalogue. There’s nothing quite as stately as “Ensamvarg” on The Formless Fire, but “De dödas sång” comes close with its acoustic intro/outro, heroic guitar solo, and battle-march tempo. Brooding cut “The Perpetual Darkness” is pure Norse melodic black metal, equal parts melancholic and invigorating.
The slightly blackened death-leaning “Traverse the Nether” and “The Ancient Gods” aren’t bad songs, but they come off as a little outside Björnfot’s comfort zone and are a step down from the rest of The Formless Fire. That said, they’re much better than the one dud, maybe the first bad song Kvaen have ever released, “Tornets sång.” Stylistically it veers sharply away from the rest of the album into a sort of stomping trad/death metal that never gets out of second gear. It would be jarring no matter where it appeared in the track order, but the formal left turn could be forgiven if it was a good song. As it is, it earns a term Kvaen have always managed to avoid despite peddling in well-worn styles: generic. Thankfully, the skip button is right there waiting to take me to the album’s killer B side.
Kvaen are too good a band to be burdened with the word “dependable,” which sounds like damning with faint praise, but as they prove with The Formless Fire just how consistent they are, the shoe fits. Maybe after one or two more records in the same vein, my enthusiasm will start to wane, but it’s hard to imagine Björnfot will ever forget how to write a killer song. For now, I’m just going to enjoy eating the shit out of this chili cheese dip.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: kvaenblacklion.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/officialkvaen
Releases Worldwide: June 21st, 2024#2024 #35 #AmonAmarth #Bathory #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #Dissection #Jun24 #Kvaen #MelodicBlackMetal #MetalBladeRecords #Review #Reviews #SwedishMetal #TheFormlessFire #VikingMetal
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Kvaen – The Formless Fire Review
By Cherd
Three albums into Jacob Björnfot’s run as quasi-one-man meloblack band Kvaen, certain areas of dependability have become apparent. For one thing, you know each release is going to be all about the guitars: the riffs, the leads, the melodies, the harmonies, the blistering, soaring solos. Any “atmosphere” is incidental. It’s not the point. You know those riffs and melodies are going to be easy breezy, memorable, and highly repeatable. You know on the songwriting front, you’ll get some scorching sprints and some rousing epics. And at least one song about fire. On the production side, it’s going to be clean, sharp, and precise. Kvaen’s third full-length The Formless Fire solidifies their status as extreme metal comfort food. Like that seemingly origin-less chili cheese dip Americans make for our Super Bowl parties, it’s all ingredients you’ve had in roughly similar configurations many times before, but you can’t stop eating the shit out of it.
There couldn’t be a more Kvaen song than album opener and leadoff single “The Formless Fire,” with its highly melodic tremolo riffing and oscillation between mid-paced stomp and careening blast. As usual, Björnfot manages to put onto record the kind of verve and urgency more easily conjured in live settings, both instrumentally and with his uncommonly legible black rasp vocals. His Dissection-inspired melodic black metal is the core sound of The Formless Fire, but as usual, there are other genres that creep into the mix. Previous album The Great Below often leaned into traditional heavy metal and Viking era Bathory, and while that’s been dialed back a bit here, it still emerges across the final three tracks, starting with the epic “De dödas sång.” The drumming on The Formless Fire is punchier than on past outings, making for Björnfot’s heaviest album to date. When things get chuggy on front-half cuts “Traverse the Nether” and “The Ancient Gods,” the sound even strays into blackened death metal territory. The latter especially sounds more than a little like fellow Swedes Amon Amarth, which makes sense since their former drummer Fredrik Andersson pulls kit duty here.
Kvaen is a band built for playlists, and there are plenty of bangers ready for plucking on The Formless Fire. As discussed, the title track is straight down the middle of their sound and well representative of their considerable strengths. That said, the real showstopper here is “Basilisk,” an absolutely rabid black metal barn burner that stands with the best songs from The Great Below and The Funeral Pyre. In fact, Björnfot screaming the name of the legendary monstrous serpent is up there with “Fire, Fucking Fire!” as the most inspired vocal performances in his catalogue. There’s nothing quite as stately as “Ensamvarg” on The Formless Fire, but “De dödas sång” comes close with its acoustic intro/outro, heroic guitar solo, and battle-march tempo. Brooding cut “The Perpetual Darkness” is pure Norse melodic black metal, equal parts melancholic and invigorating.
The slightly blackened death-leaning “Traverse the Nether” and “The Ancient Gods” aren’t bad songs, but they come off as a little outside Björnfot’s comfort zone and are a step down from the rest of The Formless Fire. That said, they’re much better than the one dud, maybe the first bad song Kvaen have ever released, “Tornets sång.” Stylistically it veers sharply away from the rest of the album into a sort of stomping trad/death metal that never gets out of second gear. It would be jarring no matter where it appeared in the track order, but the formal left turn could be forgiven if it was a good song. As it is, it earns a term Kvaen have always managed to avoid despite peddling in well-worn styles: generic. Thankfully, the skip button is right there waiting to take me to the album’s killer B side.
Kvaen are too good a band to be burdened with the word “dependable,” which sounds like damning with faint praise, but as they prove with The Formless Fire just how consistent they are, the shoe fits. Maybe after one or two more records in the same vein, my enthusiasm will start to wane, but it’s hard to imagine Björnfot will ever forget how to write a killer song. For now, I’m just going to enjoy eating the shit out of this chili cheese dip.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: kvaenblacklion.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/officialkvaen
Releases Worldwide: June 21st, 2024#2024 #35 #AmonAmarth #Bathory #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #Dissection #Jun24 #Kvaen #MelodicBlackMetal #MetalBladeRecords #Review #Reviews #SwedishMetal #TheFormlessFire #VikingMetal
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SIG:AR:TYR – Citadel of Stars Review
By Steel Druhm
Though I’m far from a black metal enthusiast, I grew up with the mighty sounds of Bathory ringing throughout my teen years. We didn’t call them black metal back then as Venom had co-opted that term for their rowdy, faux-Satan cock rock metal, but I loved what Bathory was doing regardless of genre label. Albums like The Return, Under the Sign of the Black Mark, and Blood Fire Death were so savage and massive, they set us up for what black metal would become in the 90s. It was always the epic edge of Bathory’s sound that truly seized my metal heart. The sounds of Blood Fire Death and especially Hammerheart spoke to the indomitable warrior within us all. When SIG:AR:TYR came along many years later, they clicked for me immediately in a way few black metal acts ever did because they were flying the same foundational battle standards as Bathory before them. Albums like Beyond the North Winds, Godsaga and Norther are dearly loved, and the latter was my Record o’ the Year for 2016. It’s been seven long years since Norther and for a time it seemed there would never be another SIG:AR:TYR release, but 2024 finally delivers Citadel of Stars. Will this be another grand voyage into high adventure for the faithful? Gird thy loins and let’s set sail.
I’ll say this: I don’t believe SIG:AR:TYR is capable of a bad album. Solo musician and brain trust Daemonskald is simply too talented and too capable to deliver something unworthy. On Citadel of Stars, he cobbles all the key SIG:AR:TYR elements together once again and hammers out an epic, powerful saga that feels majestic and glorious. The Bathory and Immortal influences are ever-present but the music is no mere homage. 10-plus minute opener “Awaiting the Last Dawn” is a sweeping mission statement rife with the classic sound functioning exactly as it should. It’s atmo-black Pagan/Viking metal pulsating with an epic vibe that feels vast and incalculably massive. The riffs are thoughtful and deliberate, forceful and mighty. The plodding pace feels like a military march through mud and snow as a mighty host heaves its way toward a final conflagration, and you’ll want to carry a banner alongside your brothers. Daemonskald’s blackened rasp is as effective as ever and the minutes roll by almost unnoticed as you stride with the bold. Few bands can capture this level of hypnotic atmosphere, dragging you into another realm so completely. It’s a long song that feels fleeting. “Beyond the Stars Unknown” continues the steep climb to the heavens with a hard-charging battle gallop and relentlessly churning riffs. This is the stuff to make you hunger for glory on the battlefield in a way Amon Amarth only hints at. Daemonskald’s guitar work is amazing, spinning from burly riffage to Yngwie-like neo-classical shredding and back in a way that feels just right. This is a masterwork of a true artist and Song o’ the Year material. The show stopper for me comes with “I Sail on, Eternal,” which is just a monstrously badass piece that condensces everything good in black metal into one massive missive that will add 2 inches to your biceps and several lengths to your back pelt. The spirit of Hammerheart era Bathory lives large in the music and Quorthon gazes down upon it approvingly. It’s plodding, inexorable, and inevitable, and I want it to be 40 minutes long. I’ve had this on repeat for gym sessions and it instills a quivering Norse rage in my loin biceps.
“From the Land of the North” is another ginmorous epic with pulsating energy and an Immortal-esque gravitas I can’t get enough of. Album closer “Where the Sun Never Sets” is another 10-plus minute monolith and it too conjures the spirits of great heroes and warriors through the ages. There’s so much magic in these pieces that it’s a tragic shame there are a few lesser moments that drag the album back down to Midgard. “The Blood That Came Before You” is good but less dynamic and stirring, and “Ascending the Stellar Throne” is better but also ends up feeling a bit spare compared to the masterful moments around it. The album includes 2 long-form instrumentals and though this is a SIG:AR:TYR staple, here they don’t feel as integrated and essential, fracturing the album’s momentum and lingering too long. At an hour long, the album has 12 or so minutes that feel less essential, although nothing ranks as filler.
I’ve praised Daemonskald in several reviews now, and I continue to be in awe of his abilities as a musician. His guitar playing can be stunningly beautiful then turn on a dime to become deadly. He’s a master at crafting folk-filled moments in otherwise grindingly heavy battle anthems and his delicate playing is a thing of wonder. His sense of composition is stellar and he can create truly grandiose, sweeping pieces of music blending raw force with melancholic musings. There are 5 such pieces here that I will cherish forevermore. The album has a few inconsistencies that result in lesser moments, but even these are vastly better than what most black metal acts could ever dream of conjuring.
Citadel of Stars is another winning SIG:AR:TYR album. It’s not as consistent as past triumphs and suffers some flat spots, but damn the highs are stratospheric! No one can do what SIG:AR:TYR does nearly as well, and there are songs here that will be among the best metal moments you’ll experience this year. Even if you don’t love black metal, you should give this and the whole SIG:AR:TYR catalog a deep listen. You will not be disappointed. Glory to the brave, glory to Daemonskald. Hails into eternity.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Hammerheart
Websites: sigartyr.com | sigartyr.bandcamp.com/music | facebook.com/sigartyr
Releases Worldwide: May 31st, 2024#2024 #35 #Bathory #BlackMetal #CanadianMetal #CitadelOfStars #FolkMetal #Hammerheart #HammerheartRecords #Immortal #May24 #Norther #Review #Reviews #SIGARTYR