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Imperishable – Revelation in Purity Review
By Tyme
As I prepare to flip the calendar over to what looks like a pretty stacked September,1 I took a moment to reflect on my Angry Metal August. Forays into the sump pit this month yielded several better-than-good releases that I was lucky enough to snag and pen words for. My final entry for this last month of summer2 comes by way of South Carolina’s Imperishable. Formed in 2020 as a side gig by Nile’s Brian Kingsland and Olkoth’s Alex Rush, Imperishable didn’t become a three-piece until 2023, when drum aficionado Derek Roddy (ex-Hate Eternal, ex-Malevolent Creation) entered the fold. Imperishable’s 2024 EP, originally titled Demo’s, caught the ear of Everlasting Spew Records, who signed on to release the band’s debut album, Revelation in Purity. With no question as to the metal cachet of its constituency, the only thing left for me to do was determine if Imperishable’s first outing would signal the end of my August hot streak.
With a blackened death metal heart, Revelation in Purity pierces several veils, tossing traces of groove, doom, and ’90s grunge into the mix. Within moments, album opener “Oath of Disgust” evokes strong Emperor vibes, its eddying riffs and clean, choral-like vocal section landing somewhere between the mighty Anthems3 and IX Equilibrium. These blackened moments are a red thread running throughout Imperishable’s death metal tapestry, expertly woven into a single style, rather than a collection of either-or compositions. As much as Olkoth and newer Nile (“Where Dead Omens Croon”) nestle in the nooks of Imperishable’s sound, there’s some Morbid Angel crouched in the crannies as well (“The Enduring Light of Irreverance”). Kingsland’s grasp of tension and melody, especially evident in his excellent solo work, provides a guitar tour de force of towering tremolos, whirlwind riffs, and bright, splashy chord harmonies (“Revelation in Purity,” “Spewing Retribution”). His vocals, whether gutturally growled, blackly screamed, or cleanly harmonized, are also impressively discernible as Rush’s sinister bass lines, crisp as Cliff Burton’s and full of malice, hold sway over Revelation in Purity’s nether realm alongside Reddy’s devastating drum work—a maelstrom of stormy snares, deadly double-kicks, and fancy fills.
Revelation in Purity navigates many twists, turns, and serpentine paths without getting lost, Imperishable’s songwriting filling the role of expert trail guide. As deftly merged as their black and death metal elements are, it’s the seamless incorporation of those disparate offshoots that helps Revelation in Purity stand out. On the heels of tremolodic leads and some chaotic verse accompaniment, “Exclusion Continuum” hits a nice little groove at the two-minute mark that continues as it slows to a very satisfying, chuggy crawl before re-igniting with one of Kingsland’s sustained yawps. And it’s the doomy atmospheres of “Iniquity,” with its “Where the Slime Live” feel, that, along with follow-up track “Where Dead Omens Croon,” incorporate vocal harmonies straight out of Alice in Chains’ Staley/Cantrell playbook of old, making this late round, one-two punch my favorite section on Revelation in Purity.
Imperishable dispels atmospheric, interludial frivolity by packing Revelation in Purity’s thirty-two-minute runtime with let-our-music-do-the-talking decisions, outperforming any of the recent output from their main gigs. Jamie King’s mix and master, though slightly muted, still allows every single performance to shine in a way that highlights the musical talent of each member, while Ronnie Bjornstrom’s re-amped rhythm guitars lend an organic air to Kingsland’s performance that never detracts from the cohesiveness of the whole. My biggest gripe with Revelation in Purity is that nearly half of the songs have been circulating in some form or fashion since late 2020, when the first raw versions of “Exclusion Continuum” began to appear. A mostly minor, personal disappointment that Imperishable didn’t keep more of their cards a tad closer to the vest.Imperishable’s all-killer, no-filler approach makes for some impressive blackened death metal, and while Revelation in Purity isn’t doing anything particularly groundbreaking, what it does do is very good. While I was pleasantly surprised by last year’s Nile album and am wholly looking forward to Olkoth’s follow-up, Imperishable is now on Tyme’s list of things to watch for. I’m eager to hear what a batch of fresh new ideas and songs will sound like from this crew, because, as evidenced by Revelation in Purity, Imperishable has a bright future ahead of them.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Record Label: Everlasting Spew Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 29th, 2025#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Aug25 #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #Emperor #EverlastingSpewRecords #Imperishable #MorbidAngel #Nile #Olkoth #RevelationInPurity #Review #Reviews
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Imperishable – Revelation in Purity Review
By Tyme
As I prepare to flip the calendar over to what looks like a pretty stacked September,1 I took a moment to reflect on my Angry Metal August. Forays into the sump pit this month yielded several better-than-good releases that I was lucky enough to snag and pen words for. My final entry for this last month of summer2 comes by way of South Carolina’s Imperishable. Formed in 2020 as a side gig by Nile’s Brian Kingsland and Olkoth’s Alex Rush, Imperishable didn’t become a three-piece until 2023, when drum aficionado Derek Roddy (ex-Hate Eternal, ex-Malevolent Creation) entered the fold. Imperishable’s 2024 EP, originally titled Demo’s, caught the ear of Everlasting Spew Records, who signed on to release the band’s debut album, Revelation in Purity. With no question as to the metal cachet of its constituency, the only thing left for me to do was determine if Imperishable’s first outing would signal the end of my August hot streak.
With a blackened death metal heart, Revelation in Purity pierces several veils, tossing traces of groove, doom, and ’90s grunge into the mix. Within moments, album opener “Oath of Disgust” evokes strong Emperor vibes, its eddying riffs and clean, choral-like vocal section landing somewhere between the mighty Anthems3 and IX Equilibrium. These blackened moments are a red thread running throughout Imperishable’s death metal tapestry, expertly woven into a single style, rather than a collection of either-or compositions. As much as Olkoth and newer Nile (“Where Dead Omens Croon”) nestle in the nooks of Imperishable’s sound, there’s some Morbid Angel crouched in the crannies as well (“The Enduring Light of Irreverance”). Kingsland’s grasp of tension and melody, especially evident in his excellent solo work, provides a guitar tour de force of towering tremolos, whirlwind riffs, and bright, splashy chord harmonies (“Revelation in Purity,” “Spewing Retribution”). His vocals, whether gutturally growled, blackly screamed, or cleanly harmonized, are also impressively discernible as Rush’s sinister bass lines, crisp as Cliff Burton’s and full of malice, hold sway over Revelation in Purity’s nether realm alongside Reddy’s devastating drum work—a maelstrom of stormy snares, deadly double-kicks, and fancy fills.
Revelation in Purity navigates many twists, turns, and serpentine paths without getting lost, Imperishable’s songwriting filling the role of expert trail guide. As deftly merged as their black and death metal elements are, it’s the seamless incorporation of those disparate offshoots that helps Revelation in Purity stand out. On the heels of tremolodic leads and some chaotic verse accompaniment, “Exclusion Continuum” hits a nice little groove at the two-minute mark that continues as it slows to a very satisfying, chuggy crawl before re-igniting with one of Kingsland’s sustained yawps. And it’s the doomy atmospheres of “Iniquity,” with its “Where the Slime Live” feel, that, along with follow-up track “Where Dead Omens Croon,” incorporate vocal harmonies straight out of Alice in Chains’ Staley/Cantrell playbook of old, making this late round, one-two punch my favorite section on Revelation in Purity.
Imperishable dispels atmospheric, interludial frivolity by packing Revelation in Purity’s thirty-two-minute runtime with let-our-music-do-the-talking decisions, outperforming any of the recent output from their main gigs. Jamie King’s mix and master, though slightly muted, still allows every single performance to shine in a way that highlights the musical talent of each member, while Ronnie Bjornstrom’s re-amped rhythm guitars lend an organic air to Kingsland’s performance that never detracts from the cohesiveness of the whole. My biggest gripe with Revelation in Purity is that nearly half of the songs have been circulating in some form or fashion since late 2020, when the first raw versions of “Exclusion Continuum” began to appear. A mostly minor, personal disappointment that Imperishable didn’t keep more of their cards a tad closer to the vest.Imperishable’s all-killer, no-filler approach makes for some impressive blackened death metal, and while Revelation in Purity isn’t doing anything particularly groundbreaking, what it does do is very good. While I was pleasantly surprised by last year’s Nile album and am wholly looking forward to Olkoth’s follow-up, Imperishable is now on Tyme’s list of things to watch for. I’m eager to hear what a batch of fresh new ideas and songs will sound like from this crew, because, as evidenced by Revelation in Purity, Imperishable has a bright future ahead of them.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Record Label: Everlasting Spew Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 29th, 2025#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Aug25 #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #Emperor #EverlastingSpewRecords #Imperishable #MorbidAngel #Nile #Olkoth #RevelationInPurity #Review #Reviews
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Calva Louise – Edge of the Abyss Review
By Angry Metal Guy
Genre is a funny thing. Calva Louise will almost certainly be called “Crossover.” Their sound is a combination of elements that, if I read each one individually, would make me cringe or shrug my shoulders. Seen grouped on the page, I might ask, “How would that even work?” What I wouldn’t expect is an album that excites me. The kind of excitement that drives one to spin the record again immediately. The kind of excitement that leads to sharing the record with anyone who will listen and lengthy discussions of the details of whether someone else noticed the Fleshgod Apocalypse piano arpeggios in track four.1 But Edge of the Abyss is a rare record that manages to feel wild, unpredictable, and yet addictive—evocative—all at once. And while it’s apparently a concept album, the real story that I’m following is the one told in the songs that add up to something greater than the sum of their parts.
The strength of Edge of the Abyss lies in its fusions, and I mean that in every sense. Calva Louise doesn’t blend styles; they smash them together. “Tunnel Vision” rips open the record with a sugar-rush hook, bouncing within three minutes from pop-chorus to dubstep drop to metallic groove. “W.T.F.” is exactly that: frenetic, agitated, and punky. “Aimless,” the album’s first single, is a real highlight, threading unpredictable melodies, classical piano runs, and crunchy metal riffage into something that feels like “Justice for Saint Marie” (Diablo Swing Orchestra) but with a dembow beat.2 Each song can be emphasized for such moments: “Hate in Me” swaps between Katatonia and Kate Bush without skipping a beat; “Under the Skin” gives Lacuna Coil while “Barely a Response” blends 3/Coheed and Cambria and Muse to create something that just vibes right—blending proggy post-punk with The Fall of Hearts.
The balancing act is accomplished by Edge of the Abyss being extremely well-composed. These songs, while poppy—slick, catchy, memorable—aren’t glued together Frankenpop. Instead, they’re meticulously assembled homunculi, each with its own little soul.3 There’s a sense throughout the first half of this record that you’re listening to something much more thoughtful than its surface chaos might suggest. I might be imagining things, but this is where frontwoman and primary composer Jess Allanic’s background in composition seems to play a major role. The fact that Calva Louise can evoke so many different bands, sounds, and seamlessly traverse genre boundaries in seconds—from harmonized vocals over Latin folk beats to crunchy groove to house in moments (“El Umbral”)—without seeming scattered speaks to a deep understanding of music.4
You can feel that deep understanding of music in Edge of the Abyss’s most daring material: its multilingual, rhythmically tangled, and emotionally exposed core. “Lo Que Vale,” which may be my favorite song, strips things back enough to let Allanic’s small-but-commanding voice—reminiscent of Catalina García (Monsieur Periné)—to shine. “Impeccable” evokes The Kovenant’s “New World Order” before erupting into harmonized guitar leads and New Wave vibes. These are songs with giant choruses, and while Allanic has a remarkable presence and extremely deft melodic sense, she never dominates the mix. Whether screaming, speaking, or singing, her voice is expertly integrated, capable of balancing Kate Bush and Jonas Renkse depending on where she is in a song (“Hate in Me”), with harmonic sensibilities that bring me back to 3‘s The End Is Begun. Her presence does for Calva Louise what Serj Tankian did for System of a Down or Trim for King Goat. But unlike the aforementioned vocalists, she’s playing guitar, piano, and writing songs.
Edge of the Abyss is not perfect, however. First, the record’s energy flags a bit in the back half, where “The Abyss” pulls its punches and “Under the Skin” leans too hard on its mid-tempo groove. Nothing here fails, but the band’s frenetic, genre-defying dynamism seems more concentrated in the first six tracks. Still, even at its weakest, Edge of the Abyss brims with detail—piano breaks, synth arpeggios, key changes—that keep it from feeling inert. And repeated listens have only deepened my appreciation for these later tracks. If the front half is where Calva Louise erupts, the back half is where the ash is beginning to fall. Second, while there is supposedly a concept here, I have no idea what it is. In the tradition of Coheed & Cambria, who famously have a massive story but lyrics that read like “girl doesn’t like boy and boy gets mad about it,” a lot of this just reads as angst.
Some records sound big, and some records feel big. Edge of the Abyss does both.5 It feels big because it has ideas, and it succeeds because it commits to those ideas with zero regard for genre gatekeeping, scene politics, or what guys like me think is cool. It’s weird, catchy, and gleefully sophisticated, with every song bringing something unique to the table. Every arrangement counts. It’s a banger parade, and it’s hard not to feel like it’s also smart as hell. Is it perfect? No. But it’s addictive, it’s fun, and it’s going to be the most controversial Record o’ the Month since Gazpacho.
Rating: Great!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Mascot Records
Websites: calvalouise.com | calvalouise.bandcamp.com
Release Date: July 11th, 2025#2025 #40 #CalvaLouise #CoheedAndCambria #crossover #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Dubstep #EdgeOfTheAbyss #Electronica #GrooveMetal #Jul25 #Katatonia #KateBush #KingGoat #MascotLabelGroup #MascotRecords #Metalcore #MonsieurPeriné #Muse #PopLatino #ProgressiveMetal #SystemOfADown #TheKovenant #Three #UKMetal
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Calva Louise – Edge of the Abyss Review
By Angry Metal Guy
Genre is a funny thing. Calva Louise will almost certainly be called “Crossover.” Their sound is a combination of elements that, if I read each one individually, would make me cringe or shrug my shoulders. Seen grouped on the page, I might ask, “How would that even work?” What I wouldn’t expect is an album that excites me. The kind of excitement that drives one to spin the record again immediately. The kind of excitement that leads to sharing the record with anyone who will listen and lengthy discussions of the details of whether someone else noticed the Fleshgod Apocalypse piano arpeggios in track four.1 But Edge of the Abyss is a rare record that manages to feel wild, unpredictable, and yet addictive—evocative—all at once. And while it’s apparently a concept album, the real story that I’m following is the one told in the songs that add up to something greater than the sum of their parts.
The strength of Edge of the Abyss lies in its fusions, and I mean that in every sense. Calva Louise doesn’t blend styles; they smash them together. “Tunnel Vision” rips open the record with a sugar-rush hook, bouncing within three minutes from pop-chorus to dubstep drop to metallic groove. “W.T.F.” is exactly that: frenetic, agitated, and punky. “Aimless,” the album’s first single, is a real highlight, threading unpredictable melodies, classical piano runs, and crunchy metal riffage into something that feels like “Justice for Saint Marie” (Diablo Swing Orchestra) but with a dembow beat.2 Each song can be emphasized for such moments: “Hate in Me” swaps between Katatonia and Kate Bush without skipping a beat; “Under the Skin” gives Lacuna Coil while “Barely a Response” blends 3/Coheed and Cambria and Muse to create something that just vibes right—blending proggy post-punk with The Fall of Hearts.
The balancing act is accomplished by Edge of the Abyss being extremely well-composed. These songs, while poppy—slick, catchy, memorable—aren’t glued together Frankenpop. Instead, they’re meticulously assembled homunculi, each with its own little soul.3 There’s a sense throughout the first half of this record that you’re listening to something much more thoughtful than its surface chaos might suggest. I might be imagining things, but this is where frontwoman and primary composer Jess Allanic’s background in composition seems to play a major role. The fact that Calva Louise can evoke so many different bands, sounds, and seamlessly traverse genre boundaries in seconds—from harmonized vocals over Latin folk beats to crunchy groove to house in moments (“El Umbral”)—without seeming scattered speaks to a deep understanding of music.4
You can feel that deep understanding of music in Edge of the Abyss’s most daring material: its multilingual, rhythmically tangled, and emotionally exposed core. “Lo Que Vale,” which may be my favorite song, strips things back enough to let Allanic’s small-but-commanding voice—reminiscent of Catalina García (Monsieur Periné)—to shine. “Impeccable” evokes The Kovenant’s “New World Order” before erupting into harmonized guitar leads and New Wave vibes. These are songs with giant choruses, and while Allanic has a remarkable presence and extremely deft melodic sense, she never dominates the mix. Whether screaming, speaking, or singing, her voice is expertly integrated, capable of balancing Kate Bush and Jonas Renkse depending on where she is in a song (“Hate in Me”), with harmonic sensibilities that bring me back to 3‘s The End Is Begun. Her presence does for Calva Louise what Serj Tankian did for System of a Down or Trim for King Goat. But unlike the aforementioned vocalists, she’s playing guitar, piano, and writing songs.
Edge of the Abyss is not perfect, however. First, the record’s energy flags a bit in the back half, where “The Abyss” pulls its punches and “Under the Skin” leans too hard on its mid-tempo groove. Nothing here fails, but the band’s frenetic, genre-defying dynamism seems more concentrated in the first six tracks. Still, even at its weakest, Edge of the Abyss brims with detail—piano breaks, synth arpeggios, key changes—that keep it from feeling inert. And repeated listens have only deepened my appreciation for these later tracks. If the front half is where Calva Louise erupts, the back half is where the ash is beginning to fall. Second, while there is supposedly a concept here, I have no idea what it is. In the tradition of Coheed & Cambria, who famously have a massive story but lyrics that read like “girl doesn’t like boy and boy gets mad about it,” a lot of this just reads as angst.
Some records sound big, and some records feel big. Edge of the Abyss does both.5 It feels big because it has ideas, and it succeeds because it commits to those ideas with zero regard for genre gatekeeping, scene politics, or what guys like me think is cool. It’s weird, catchy, and gleefully sophisticated, with every song bringing something unique to the table. Every arrangement counts. It’s a banger parade, and it’s hard not to feel like it’s also smart as hell. Is it perfect? No. But it’s addictive, it’s fun, and it’s going to be the most controversial Record o’ the Month since Gazpacho.
Rating: Great!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Mascot Records
Websites: calvalouise.com | calvalouise.bandcamp.com
Release Date: July 11th, 2025#2025 #40 #CalvaLouise #CoheedAndCambria #crossover #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Dubstep #EdgeOfTheAbyss #Electronica #GrooveMetal #Jul25 #Katatonia #KateBush #KingGoat #MascotLabelGroup #MascotRecords #Metalcore #MonsieurPeriné #Muse #PopLatino #ProgressiveMetal #SystemOfADown #TheKovenant #Three #UKMetal
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Calva Louise – Edge of the Abyss Review
By Angry Metal Guy
Genre is a funny thing. Calva Louise will almost certainly be called “Crossover.” Their sound is a combination of elements that, if I read each one individually, would make me cringe or shrug my shoulders. Seen grouped on the page, I might ask, “How would that even work?” What I wouldn’t expect is an album that excites me. The kind of excitement that drives one to spin the record again immediately. The kind of excitement that leads to sharing the record with anyone who will listen and lengthy discussions of the details of whether someone else noticed the Fleshgod Apocalypse piano arpeggios in track four.1 But Edge of the Abyss is a rare record that manages to feel wild, unpredictable, and yet addictive—evocative—all at once. And while it’s apparently a concept album, the real story that I’m following is the one told in the songs that add up to something greater than the sum of their parts.
The strength of Edge of the Abyss lies in its fusions, and I mean that in every sense. Calva Louise doesn’t blend styles; they smash them together. “Tunnel Vision” rips open the record with a sugar-rush hook, bouncing within three minutes from pop-chorus to dubstep drop to metallic groove. “W.T.F.” is exactly that: frenetic, agitated, and punky. “Aimless,” the album’s first single, is a real highlight, threading unpredictable melodies, classical piano runs, and crunchy metal riffage into something that feels like “Justice for Saint Marie” (Diablo Swing Orchestra) but with a dembow beat.2 Each song can be emphasized for such moments: “Hate in Me” swaps between Katatonia and Kate Bush without skipping a beat; “Under the Skin” gives Lacuna Coil while “Barely a Response” blends 3/Coheed and Cambria and Muse to create something that just vibes right—blending proggy post-punk with The Fall of Hearts.
The balancing act is accomplished by Edge of the Abyss being extremely well-composed. These songs, while poppy—slick, catchy, memorable—aren’t glued together Frankenpop. Instead, they’re meticulously assembled homunculi, each with its own little soul.3 There’s a sense throughout the first half of this record that you’re listening to something much more thoughtful than its surface chaos might suggest. I might be imagining things, but this is where frontwoman and primary composer Jess Allanic’s background in composition seems to play a major role. The fact that Calva Louise can evoke so many different bands, sounds, and seamlessly traverse genre boundaries in seconds—from harmonized vocals over Latin folk beats to crunchy groove to house in moments (“El Umbral”)—without seeming scattered speaks to a deep understanding of music.4
You can feel that deep understanding of music in Edge of the Abyss’s most daring material: its multilingual, rhythmically tangled, and emotionally exposed core. “Lo Que Vale,” which may be my favorite song, strips things back enough to let Allanic’s small-but-commanding voice—reminiscent of Catalina García (Monsieur Periné)—to shine. “Impeccable” evokes The Kovenant’s “New World Order” before erupting into harmonized guitar leads and New Wave vibes. These are songs with giant choruses, and while Allanic has a remarkable presence and extremely deft melodic sense, she never dominates the mix. Whether screaming, speaking, or singing, her voice is expertly integrated, capable of balancing Kate Bush and Jonas Renkse depending on where she is in a song (“Hate in Me”), with harmonic sensibilities that bring me back to 3‘s The End Is Begun. Her presence does for Calva Louise what Serj Tankian did for System of a Down or Trim for King Goat. But unlike the aforementioned vocalists, she’s playing guitar, piano, and writing songs.
Edge of the Abyss is not perfect, however. First, the record’s energy flags a bit in the back half, where “The Abyss” pulls its punches and “Under the Skin” leans too hard on its mid-tempo groove. Nothing here fails, but the band’s frenetic, genre-defying dynamism seems more concentrated in the first six tracks. Still, even at its weakest, Edge of the Abyss brims with detail—piano breaks, synth arpeggios, key changes—that keep it from feeling inert. And repeated listens have only deepened my appreciation for these later tracks. If the front half is where Calva Louise erupts, the back half is where the ash is beginning to fall. Second, while there is supposedly a concept here, I have no idea what it is. In the tradition of Coheed & Cambria, who famously have a massive story but lyrics that read like “girl doesn’t like boy and boy gets mad about it,” a lot of this just reads as angst.
Some records sound big, and some records feel big. Edge of the Abyss does both.5 It feels big because it has ideas, and it succeeds because it commits to those ideas with zero regard for genre gatekeeping, scene politics, or what guys like me think is cool. It’s weird, catchy, and gleefully sophisticated, with every song bringing something unique to the table. Every arrangement counts. It’s a banger parade, and it’s hard not to feel like it’s also smart as hell. Is it perfect? No. But it’s addictive, it’s fun, and it’s going to be the most controversial Record o’ the Month since Gazpacho.
Rating: Great!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Mascot Records
Websites: calvalouise.com | calvalouise.bandcamp.com
Release Date: July 11th, 2025#2025 #40 #CalvaLouise #CoheedAndCambria #crossover #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Dubstep #EdgeOfTheAbyss #Electronica #GrooveMetal #Jul25 #Katatonia #KateBush #KingGoat #MascotLabelGroup #MascotRecords #Metalcore #MonsieurPeriné #Muse #PopLatino #ProgressiveMetal #SystemOfADown #TheKovenant #Three #UKMetal
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Calva Louise – Edge of the Abyss Review
By Angry Metal Guy
Genre is a funny thing. Calva Louise will almost certainly be called “Crossover.” Their sound is a combination of elements that, if I read each one individually, would make me cringe or shrug my shoulders. Seen grouped on the page, I might ask, “How would that even work?” What I wouldn’t expect is an album that excites me. The kind of excitement that drives one to spin the record again immediately. The kind of excitement that leads to sharing the record with anyone who will listen and lengthy discussions of the details of whether someone else noticed the Fleshgod Apocalypse piano arpeggios in track four.1 But Edge of the Abyss is a rare record that manages to feel wild, unpredictable, and yet addictive—evocative—all at once. And while it’s apparently a concept album, the real story that I’m following is the one told in the songs that add up to something greater than the sum of their parts.
The strength of Edge of the Abyss lies in its fusions, and I mean that in every sense. Calva Louise doesn’t blend styles; they smash them together. “Tunnel Vision” rips open the record with a sugar-rush hook, bouncing within three minutes from pop-chorus to dubstep drop to metallic groove. “W.T.F.” is exactly that: frenetic, agitated, and punky. “Aimless,” the album’s first single, is a real highlight, threading unpredictable melodies, classical piano runs, and crunchy metal riffage into something that feels like “Justice for Saint Marie” (Diablo Swing Orchestra) but with a dembow beat.2 Each song can be emphasized for such moments: “Hate in Me” swaps between Katatonia and Kate Bush without skipping a beat; “Under the Skin” gives Lacuna Coil while “Barely a Response” blends 3/Coheed and Cambria and Muse to create something that just vibes right—blending proggy post-punk with The Fall of Hearts.
The balancing act is accomplished by Edge of the Abyss being extremely well-composed. These songs, while poppy—slick, catchy, memorable—aren’t glued together Frankenpop. Instead, they’re meticulously assembled homunculi, each with its own little soul.3 There’s a sense throughout the first half of this record that you’re listening to something much more thoughtful than its surface chaos might suggest. I might be imagining things, but this is where frontwoman and primary composer Jess Allanic’s background in composition seems to play a major role. The fact that Calva Louise can evoke so many different bands, sounds, and seamlessly traverse genre boundaries in seconds—from harmonized vocals over Latin folk beats to crunchy groove to house in moments (“El Umbral”)—without seeming scattered speaks to a deep understanding of music.4
You can feel that deep understanding of music in Edge of the Abyss’s most daring material: its multilingual, rhythmically tangled, and emotionally exposed core. “Lo Que Vale,” which may be my favorite song, strips things back enough to let Allanic’s small-but-commanding voice—reminiscent of Catalina García (Monsieur Periné)—to shine. “Impeccable” evokes The Kovenant’s “New World Order” before erupting into harmonized guitar leads and New Wave vibes. These are songs with giant choruses, and while Allanic has a remarkable presence and extremely deft melodic sense, she never dominates the mix. Whether screaming, speaking, or singing, her voice is expertly integrated, capable of balancing Kate Bush and Jonas Renkse depending on where she is in a song (“Hate in Me”), with harmonic sensibilities that bring me back to 3‘s The End Is Begun. Her presence does for Calva Louise what Serj Tankian did for System of a Down or Trim for King Goat. But unlike the aforementioned vocalists, she’s playing guitar, piano, and writing songs.
Edge of the Abyss is not perfect, however. First, the record’s energy flags a bit in the back half, where “The Abyss” pulls its punches and “Under the Skin” leans too hard on its mid-tempo groove. Nothing here fails, but the band’s frenetic, genre-defying dynamism seems more concentrated in the first six tracks. Still, even at its weakest, Edge of the Abyss brims with detail—piano breaks, synth arpeggios, key changes—that keep it from feeling inert. And repeated listens have only deepened my appreciation for these later tracks. If the front half is where Calva Louise erupts, the back half is where the ash is beginning to fall. Second, while there is supposedly a concept here, I have no idea what it is. In the tradition of Coheed & Cambria, who famously have a massive story but lyrics that read like “girl doesn’t like boy and boy gets mad about it,” a lot of this just reads as angst.
Some records sound big, and some records feel big. Edge of the Abyss does both.5 It feels big because it has ideas, and it succeeds because it commits to those ideas with zero regard for genre gatekeeping, scene politics, or what guys like me think is cool. It’s weird, catchy, and gleefully sophisticated, with every song bringing something unique to the table. Every arrangement counts. It’s a banger parade, and it’s hard not to feel like it’s also smart as hell. Is it perfect? No. But it’s addictive, it’s fun, and it’s going to be the most controversial Record o’ the Month since Gazpacho.
Rating: Great!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Mascot Records
Websites: calvalouise.com | calvalouise.bandcamp.com
Release Date: July 11th, 2025#2025 #40 #CalvaLouise #CoheedAndCambria #crossover #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Dubstep #EdgeOfTheAbyss #Electronica #GrooveMetal #Jul25 #Katatonia #KateBush #KingGoat #MascotLabelGroup #MascotRecords #Metalcore #MonsieurPeriné #Muse #PopLatino #ProgressiveMetal #SystemOfADown #TheKovenant #Three #UKMetal
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Calva Louise – Edge of the Abyss Review
By Angry Metal Guy
Genre is a funny thing. Calva Louise will almost certainly be called “Crossover.” Their sound is a combination of elements that, if I read each one individually, would make me cringe or shrug my shoulders. Seen grouped on the page, I might ask, “How would that even work?” What I wouldn’t expect is an album that excites me. The kind of excitement that drives one to spin the record again immediately. The kind of excitement that leads to sharing the record with anyone who will listen and lengthy discussions of the details of whether someone else noticed the Fleshgod Apocalypse piano arpeggios in track four.1 But Edge of the Abyss is a rare record that manages to feel wild, unpredictable, and yet addictive—evocative—all at once. And while it’s apparently a concept album, the real story that I’m following is the one told in the songs that add up to something greater than the sum of their parts.
The strength of Edge of the Abyss lies in its fusions, and I mean that in every sense. Calva Louise doesn’t blend styles; they smash them together. “Tunnel Vision” rips open the record with a sugar-rush hook, bouncing within three minutes from pop-chorus to dubstep drop to metallic groove. “W.T.F.” is exactly that: frenetic, agitated, and punky. “Aimless,” the album’s first single, is a real highlight, threading unpredictable melodies, classical piano runs, and crunchy metal riffage into something that feels like “Justice for Saint Marie” (Diablo Swing Orchestra) but with a dembow beat.2 Each song can be emphasized for such moments: “Hate in Me” swaps between Katatonia and Kate Bush without skipping a beat; “Under the Skin” gives Lacuna Coil while “Barely a Response” blends 3/Coheed and Cambria and Muse to create something that just vibes right—blending proggy post-punk with The Fall of Hearts.
The balancing act is accomplished by Edge of the Abyss being extremely well-composed. These songs, while poppy—slick, catchy, memorable—aren’t glued together Frankenpop. Instead, they’re meticulously assembled homunculi, each with its own little soul.3 There’s a sense throughout the first half of this record that you’re listening to something much more thoughtful than its surface chaos might suggest. I might be imagining things, but this is where frontwoman and primary composer Jess Allanic’s background in composition seems to play a major role. The fact that Calva Louise can evoke so many different bands, sounds, and seamlessly traverse genre boundaries in seconds—from harmonized vocals over Latin folk beats to crunchy groove to house in moments (“El Umbral”)—without seeming scattered speaks to a deep understanding of music.4
You can feel that deep understanding of music in Edge of the Abyss’s most daring material: its multilingual, rhythmically tangled, and emotionally exposed core. “Lo Que Vale,” which may be my favorite song, strips things back enough to let Allanic’s small-but-commanding voice—reminiscent of Catalina García (Monsieur Periné)—to shine. “Impeccable” evokes The Kovenant’s “New World Order” before erupting into harmonized guitar leads and New Wave vibes. These are songs with giant choruses, and while Allanic has a remarkable presence and extremely deft melodic sense, she never dominates the mix. Whether screaming, speaking, or singing, her voice is expertly integrated, capable of balancing Kate Bush and Jonas Renkse depending on where she is in a song (“Hate in Me”), with harmonic sensibilities that bring me back to 3‘s The End Is Begun. Her presence does for Calva Louise what Serj Tankian did for System of a Down or Trim for King Goat. But unlike the aforementioned vocalists, she’s playing guitar, piano, and writing songs.
Edge of the Abyss is not perfect, however. First, the record’s energy flags a bit in the back half, where “The Abyss” pulls its punches and “Under the Skin” leans too hard on its mid-tempo groove. Nothing here fails, but the band’s frenetic, genre-defying dynamism seems more concentrated in the first six tracks. Still, even at its weakest, Edge of the Abyss brims with detail—piano breaks, synth arpeggios, key changes—that keep it from feeling inert. And repeated listens have only deepened my appreciation for these later tracks. If the front half is where Calva Louise erupts, the back half is where the ash is beginning to fall. Second, while there is supposedly a concept here, I have no idea what it is. In the tradition of Coheed & Cambria, who famously have a massive story but lyrics that read like “girl doesn’t like boy and boy gets mad about it,” a lot of this just reads as angst.
Some records sound big, and some records feel big. Edge of the Abyss does both.5 It feels big because it has ideas, and it succeeds because it commits to those ideas with zero regard for genre gatekeeping, scene politics, or what guys like me think is cool. It’s weird, catchy, and gleefully sophisticated, with every song bringing something unique to the table. Every arrangement counts. It’s a banger parade, and it’s hard not to feel like it’s also smart as hell. Is it perfect? No. But it’s addictive, it’s fun, and it’s going to be the most controversial Record o’ the Month since Gazpacho.
Rating: Great!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Mascot Records
Websites: calvalouise.com | calvalouise.bandcamp.com
Release Date: July 11th, 2025#2025 #40 #CalvaLouise #CoheedAndCambria #crossover #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Dubstep #EdgeOfTheAbyss #Electronica #GrooveMetal #Jul25 #Katatonia #KateBush #KingGoat #MascotLabelGroup #MascotRecords #Metalcore #MonsieurPeriné #Muse #PopLatino #ProgressiveMetal #SystemOfADown #TheKovenant #Three #UKMetal
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By Angry Metal Guy
Founded in 2004 by guitarist Lionel Cano Muñoz (of Spanish descent, but born in Orléans, France), Impureza is based in France but fully embraces Spanish heritage in both concept and execution. Jokingly called the “French Nile,”1 Impureza blends extreme, brutal death metal with rich cultural motifs and flamenco. Alcázares marks Impureza’s third full-length album in 15 years. The album continues the band’s legacy of high-concept releases, following La Iglesia del Odio (2010, an Inquisition-themed album) and La Caída de Tonatiuh (2017, an Aztec Conquest-themed album).2
Conceptually, Alcázares is based around the Reconquista, a centuries-long conflict between Christian and Muslim forces that started in the 8th century, following Tariq ibn Ziyad’s conquest of the Visigothic Kingdom in 711 and the Battle of Covadonga (in ~722) and ending in 1492 with the establishment of the Catholic Monarchs.3 Alcázares means “fortresses” or “palaces.”4 The word is derived from Arabic, “al-qaṣr” (ٱلْقَصْر),5 which means the same. As with many things on the Iberian Peninsula, like flamenco itself, the tension at the heart of Alcázares is between cultures, faiths, and empires—specifically between Islam and Christianity, the Moor and the Castilian. Symbolically, the title evokes the contested strongholds of medieval Spain: places of siege, destruction, religious power, and shifting dominion between Muslim and Christian empires.
Seven years have changed and improved Impureza. At its core, their sound is best evoked by invoking two excellent bands: Vidres a la Sang and Æternam.6 2017’s La Caída de Tonatiuh was replete with the blasty, brutal ’90s style death metal (à la Vidres a la Sang), a sound near to my heart and that in a lot of ways has receded in the modern death metal landscape. Alcázares doesn’t shy away from this sound. If you needle drop anywhere in the 49 minutes of music on Alcázares, you are likely to land within a minute of blast beats, guttural vocals, and trem-picked, harmonized guitars. The Nileesque brutality sets down the deepest root of their sound, but the tree has also flowered over the years.
Where La Caída de Tonatiuh felt like the tale of two records, Alcázares feels unified. Having backed away from single-minded br00tality, Impureza does a better job of integrating the different flavors of their sound. The real innovation is that they have discovered dynamics. More clean vocals (“La Orden del Yelmo Negro,” “Castigos Eclesiásticos”), better use of integrated acoustic guitars (“Pestilencia,” “Castigos Eclesiásticos”), and the strong melodic content of flamenco—still bearing the history of MENA influences—evokes Æternam’s last two records and even at times Melechesh. For me, this is a perfect blend of brutal and melodic. I love the growls, the anthemic cleans, the fretless bass (“Ruina del Alcázar”), and the tightly integrated feel.
Integration of flamenco and metal is not easy. This is because these two genres of music are fundamentally quite different. Said differently, flamenco is progressive as fuck. It uses a 12-beat cycle,7 where accents fall unpredictably (on beats 12, 3, 6, 8, 10), rather than on typical downbeats.8 Additionally, these cycles blend note-groupings of 2s and 3s (hemiolas), which create shifting accents and internal tensions. I can only imagine that this is genuinely tough to integrate into metal, which operates in 4/4 or 3/4 or, when we’re feeling particularly saucy, 7/8. So, while some moments here threw me at first—seeming messy or chaotic, almost like a band that wasn’t playing in time (for example, on “Santa Inquisición” and “Pestalencia”)—I realized that what I was hearing was the sound of innovation and adventure.
In addition to compositional innovations and refinements, Alcázares benefits from notably improved production. The mix is cleaner, clearer, and better balanced than their previous album, allowing each element—flamenco, cleans, and death metal—to find its place without overpowering the others. It’s probably too loud, but it is never muddy. The guitars shimmer when needed and crush when they must. The bass is visceral and perfectly matched with the drums, and though they sound crushed and a bit mechanical—it is Jacob Hansen, after all—they punch through with precision. Everything feels tighter, more refined, and integrated in a way that I genuinely love.
Impureza has an Orphaned Land-like quality of disappearing and then reappearing to remind you of just what you were missing. Alcázares is Impureza at their most ambitious: historically immersed, sonically expansive, blasphemous, and, well, super into the (alternative) histories of colonialism. Alcázares is a violent, poetic invocation of Spain’s medieval imagination, and it sports an enchanting vibe that recalls some of the best records I own. Seven years of development resulted in a record full of tight riffs, beautiful guitar work, and intense compositions, and they somehow managed to work a Necromancer into a historical concept album (“El Ejército de los Fallecidos de Alarcos”). I would say that I hope to see something from them soon, but I’m happy to wait another seven years for another record of this quality.
Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: impureza.bandcamp.com
Release Date: July 11th, 2025#2025 #35 #Aeternam #Alcázares #DeathMetal #Flamenco #FleshgodApocalypse #Impureza #Jul25 #LaCaìdaDeTonatiuh #Melechesh #Nile #VidresALaSang
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Morbyda – Under the Spell Review
By El Cuervo
I always enjoy reviewing and exposing bands on their debut. A debut offers a cornucopia of possibilities: will it be innovative? Exciting? Shit? Picking up an album deep into a discography often results in something that’s like what came before, but with a debut, there’s an element of the unknown. Under the Spell by Germany’s Morbyda is one such example, with just one demo and live release under their belt previously. Promising a NWoBHM-inflected release of blackened speed metal, there are few things more heartening than a young band making heavy metal. Do I remain heartened after spending hours with Morbyda?
At its core, Under the Spell blends blackened shouts, wailing vibratos, crunchy guitars, and vibrant riffs into energetic speed metal. Despite the heaviness derived from the grimy instrumental tones and unrelenting pace, the melodies are so upbeat that they almost sound happy. And although the songs sometimes lack the brevity that might benefit them, I admire their directness. Focused songwriting prioritizes the fastest route from guitar lead to guitar lead, and there are few moments on the album that aren’t trying to be big, loud, and boisterous. On “Turning the Wheel of Steel” – coincidentally, how Steel Druhm describes himself becoming aroused – the harmonized lead is a highlight and refrain to which the song regularly returns. Likewise, the key change to a higher octave at 3:10, underpinned by a slowing rhythm, partitions the song into two halves and accentuates the ensuing solo. Morbyda target maximalism.
The production packages the Under the Spell sound into something fairly chaotic and lo-fi. This would be my ordinary preference, especially for black/speed metal, but here it’s so roughshod that there are unfortunate consequences. The muddy rhythm section is the prime suspect, filling the middle of the sound stage with drums and bass that are poorly defined. This not only obscures the instrumental skill of the respective performers; it also obscures the second guitarist and distinctiveness of the riffs. The riffs are generally good, but the poorly defined mix results in many sounding the same. This results in a release where, once you’ve heard a couple of the tracks, you’ve heard them all. Sonic consistency is a given on a cohesive record, but this creeps into a uniformity that undermines the divisions between songs. By contrast, moments where the soundstage clears to expose fewer instruments – like the transition around 1:50 on “Mother of Decay” – my attention is grabbed once more.
Under the Spell is most enjoyable when its songs are restricted to a shorter duration; the three shortest are some of the best. “Evil” offers a speedy and robust introduction, “The Curse” is uniquely boisterous on a boisterous album, and “Sacrifice” benefits from a spidery lead that’s both technical and atmospheric. Accordingly, the three tracks that approach or exceed six minutes suffer the most from the length. And beyond sheer time consumed, Morbyda struggle to arrange the longer tracks in a sophisticated manner. The transition from a slower instrumental passage to the frenzied solo at 3:55 on “Mother of Decay” is jarring and representative of transitions that are just as roughshod as the production. Likewise, this same track closes with a guitar solo that simply stops. The album is the product of an enthusiastic group trying to stitch together enthusiastic songs, but their enthusiasm exceeds their compositional abilities.
I’ve struggled to score Under the Spell. I have numerous gripes, from the muddy production to the monotonous song-writing to the clunky arrangements. And yet my over-arching response is still one that’s reasonably positive. You might expect imperfections from a young band figuring out their sound, and Morbyda have a bouncy, entertaining quality. There are ultimately too many obstacles to reach a ‘good’ rating, but I’ll be tracking the progress of these Germans with interest.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Website: morbyda.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025#25 #2025 #BlackenedSpeedMetal #DyingVictimsProductions #GermanMetal #Jun25 #Morbyda #Review #Reviews #SpeedMetal #UnderTheSpell
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Quote of the day, 5 May: St. Titus Brandsma
A newspaper is like a friend whose opinion we value, whom we enjoy listening to, and whose conclusion we find difficult to escape….
If a Catholic periodical does not provide what the public has a right to expect, then there is a danger that the public will consider it as a pitiable thing in need of help but, simultaneously, consider it a waste of money….
The press is our most powerful arm in our battle for truth….
Should the Catholic press abandon this ideal of being a weapon of truth, its very existence would make no sense either for us journalists or for the Church. It would become worthless. Its steadfast witness to the truth alone constitutes its power and its glory.
Saint Titus Brandsma
Lecture on the Catholic press broadcast by KRO (1936)
Note: Biographer Miguel Arribas, O.Carm., observes that Saint Titus’s description of the Catholic press as “our most powerful arm in our battle for truth” echoes the phrase arma veritatis—“weapon of truth”—which was prominently featured as the theme of the 1936 Esposizione mondiale della stampa cattolica (World Exhibition of the Catholic Press) in Vatican City. The exhibition, held to mark the 75th anniversary of L’Osservatore Romano, celebrated the role of the Catholic press in promoting truth and resisting propaganda, a cause Pope Pius XI championed throughout his pontificate. While there is no record that Titus Brandsma attended the exhibition, his vision for Catholic journalism clearly harmonized with its central theme. For Titus, as for the pope, fidelity to the truth was the press’s greatest strength and highest glory.
Original entrance ticket from Arma Veritatis—the 1936 World Exhibition of the Catholic Press held at the Vatican, designed by Gio Ponti. This image is hosted externally. If it fails to load, please visit eggscasino.com to view the original.Arribas O.Carm., M 2021, The Price of Truth: Titus Brandsma, Carmelite, Carmelite Media, Darien, Illinois.
Featured image: St. Titus Brandsma is seen at work in his office in the Carmelite monastery in Nijmegen. He was a prolific writer. Behind him are bookcases containing albums with photos of the texts of medieval manuscripts and spiritual writers. Image credit: Carmelites (used with permission of the Nederlands Carmelitaans Instituut)
⬦ Reflection Question ⬦
How can I use my voice—online or offline—as an “arm in the battle for truth”?
⬦ Join the conversation in the comments.#CatholicPress #journalism #lecture #StTitusBrandsma #truth #weaponOfTruth
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Leper Colony – Those of the Morbid Review
By Tyme
Have you ever played Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon? When you try to connect another actor to Kevin Bacon via the films they’ve been in, winners make that connection in the fewest “degrees” possible? A quick reference of the Archives convinced me Rogga Johansson may be the Kevin Bacon of the Swedish metal scene, perhaps the entire metal scene. You’d be hard-pressed to argue that but not to connect many other musicians to him in six degrees or less, as Rogga contributes to forty-eight active bands and has seventeen past outfits on his resume. Rogga’s longstanding relationship with German vocalist and friend Marc Grewe (Morgoth) culminated in the 2020 formation of Leper Colony, which hit the ground running with its self-titled debut in 2023, garnering a 3.5/5.0 rating from Crispy Hooligan. With Leper Colony‘s sophomore effort and first for Testimony Records, Those of the Morbid, I’m primed to find out what kind of Swede-anigans Rogga’s up to now.
Sadly, Those of the Morbid highlights one of the most significant problems with leprosy, and that is shit starts to fall off.1 Which, in Leper Colony‘s case, means way more than a sophomore slump. Every limb left on the diseased body of the debut has fallen off Those of the Morbid‘s frame. Sure, it’s still death metal, but generic in a way that defies legitimate sonic comparison. There are faint Slayer vibes in the harmonized guitar intro of “Facing the Faceless,” I guess, and far-flung hints of Bolt Thrower in the again harmonized leads of “Realm of Madness,” but even these are ‘meh’ connections. Things of the Morbid is full of tepid Rogga riffs, the HM2 more butter knife than buzzsaw, assembled into mostly punk-infused death metal compositions. Jon Rudin (Monstrous) lays down loads of 4/4 straight beats and double kicks with tempo shifts and a few flourished fills thrown in for variation (“Those of the Morbid Inclination”). At the same time, Wombath‘s Håkan Stuvemark handles lead guitar duties, his solos adequate but uninspiring (“Master’s Voice”). And you have Grewe helming the mic again, his unhinged screams, shouts, and shrieks possibly the only thing keeping Those of the Morbid from falling further apart.
Void of engaging songwriting fans expect from a Rogga project, Those of the Morbid has a cut-and-paste feel—photo-shopped band image included—that cling to rigid death-punk tropes and rarely color outside the lines (“Flesh to Rot to Ashes”). Lyrics are horror-themed and amateurish, with the especially juvenile, ‘Suck at the teet, of the Apocalypse Whore!’ one of the more egregious examples. Things of the Morbid is an album a younger, stuck-in-the-midwest me might have come across at Wal-Mart, snatching it up like some uber-extreme gem, but no. There is no questioning Leper Colony‘s pedigree, as each member has had a hand in some of death metal’s more influential offerings, which makes the mediocrity of Those of the Morbid even more baffling.
I’m a person who strives to find the good in everything, which has made covering Leper Colony‘s Those of the Morbid tough, as the tone of this review has been primarily negative. Are there no redeeming qualities within Those of the Morbid? Well, yes, actually, there are a couple. First, I dig the Felipe Mora cover art. It’s what drew my eye to Leper Colony in the first place. Second is the album closer, “A Story in Red.” It’s a decently executed slow-burner with melodic guitar riffs that finds Grewe channeling Lemmy Kilmister and Crowbar‘s Kirk Windstein. Taking up four minutes and fourteen seconds of Morbid‘s very short twenty-nine-minute runtime, though even this track suffers a bit from an anticlimactic fade-out instead of ending on a more confident note.
We’ve reached the end of this review together, dear reader, and I’ve said all I can say about Leper Colony and what I think of Those of the Morbid.2 While I wasn’t expecting the masterpiece nearly a dozen AMG writers believe is somewhere inside Rogga Johansson, I certainly wasn’t expecting this. The bright side is that Rogga’s forty-eight other bands have more to choose from, so I’m not that put out. Playing a rousing game of Six Degrees of Rogga will be more fun than listening to Those of the Morbid, so here’s some low-hanging fruit to get you all started: Glen Benton.
Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Testimony Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: May 2nd, 2025#15 #2025 #BoltThrower #DeathMetal #GermanMetal #LeperColony #May25 #Review #Reviews #RoggaJohansson #Slayer #TestimonyRecords #ThoseOfTheMorbid
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Leper Colony – Those of the Morbid Review
By Tyme
Have you ever played Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon? When you try to connect another actor to Kevin Bacon via the films they’ve been in, winners make that connection in the fewest “degrees” possible? A quick reference of the Archives convinced me Rogga Johansson may be the Kevin Bacon of the Swedish metal scene, perhaps the entire metal scene. You’d be hard-pressed to argue that but not to connect many other musicians to him in six degrees or less, as Rogga contributes to forty-eight active bands and has seventeen past outfits on his resume. Rogga’s longstanding relationship with German vocalist and friend Marc Grewe (Morgoth) culminated in the 2020 formation of Leper Colony, which hit the ground running with its self-titled debut in 2023, garnering a 3.5/5.0 rating from Crispy Hooligan. With Leper Colony‘s sophomore effort and first for Testimony Records, Those of the Morbid, I’m primed to find out what kind of Swede-anigans Rogga’s up to now.
Sadly, Those of the Morbid highlights one of the most significant problems with leprosy, and that is shit starts to fall off.1 Which, in Leper Colony‘s case, means way more than a sophomore slump. Every limb left on the diseased body of the debut has fallen off Those of the Morbid‘s frame. Sure, it’s still death metal, but generic in a way that defies legitimate sonic comparison. There are faint Slayer vibes in the harmonized guitar intro of “Facing the Faceless,” I guess, and far-flung hints of Bolt Thrower in the again harmonized leads of “Realm of Madness,” but even these are ‘meh’ connections. Things of the Morbid is full of tepid Rogga riffs, the HM2 more butter knife than buzzsaw, assembled into mostly punk-infused death metal compositions. Jon Rudin (Monstrous) lays down loads of 4/4 straight beats and double kicks with tempo shifts and a few flourished fills thrown in for variation (“Those of the Morbid Inclination”). At the same time, Wombath‘s Håkan Stuvemark handles lead guitar duties, his solos adequate but uninspiring (“Master’s Voice”). And you have Grewe helming the mic again, his unhinged screams, shouts, and shrieks possibly the only thing keeping Those of the Morbid from falling further apart.
Void of engaging songwriting fans expect from a Rogga project, Those of the Morbid has a cut-and-paste feel—photo-shopped band image included—that cling to rigid death-punk tropes and rarely color outside the lines (“Flesh to Rot to Ashes”). Lyrics are horror-themed and amateurish, with the especially juvenile, ‘Suck at the teet, of the Apocalypse Whore!’ one of the more egregious examples. Things of the Morbid is an album a younger, stuck-in-the-midwest me might have come across at Wal-Mart, snatching it up like some uber-extreme gem, but no. There is no questioning Leper Colony‘s pedigree, as each member has had a hand in some of death metal’s more influential offerings, which makes the mediocrity of Those of the Morbid even more baffling.
I’m a person who strives to find the good in everything, which has made covering Leper Colony‘s Those of the Morbid tough, as the tone of this review has been primarily negative. Are there no redeeming qualities within Those of the Morbid? Well, yes, actually, there are a couple. First, I dig the Felipe Mora cover art. It’s what drew my eye to Leper Colony in the first place. Second is the album closer, “A Story in Red.” It’s a decently executed slow-burner with melodic guitar riffs that finds Grewe channeling Lemmy Kilmister and Crowbar‘s Kirk Windstein. Taking up four minutes and fourteen seconds of Morbid‘s very short twenty-nine-minute runtime, though even this track suffers a bit from an anticlimactic fade-out instead of ending on a more confident note.
We’ve reached the end of this review together, dear reader, and I’ve said all I can say about Leper Colony and what I think of Those of the Morbid.2 While I wasn’t expecting the masterpiece nearly a dozen AMG writers believe is somewhere inside Rogga Johansson, I certainly wasn’t expecting this. The bright side is that Rogga’s forty-eight other bands have more to choose from, so I’m not that put out. Playing a rousing game of Six Degrees of Rogga will be more fun than listening to Those of the Morbid, so here’s some low-hanging fruit to get you all started: Glen Benton.
Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Testimony Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: May 2nd, 2025#15 #2025 #BoltThrower #DeathMetal #GermanMetal #LeperColony #May25 #Review #Reviews #RoggaJohansson #Slayer #TestimonyRecords #ThoseOfTheMorbid
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Leper Colony – Those of the Morbid Review
By Tyme
Have you ever played Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon? When you try to connect another actor to Kevin Bacon via the films they’ve been in, winners make that connection in the fewest “degrees” possible? A quick reference of the Archives convinced me Rogga Johansson may be the Kevin Bacon of the Swedish metal scene, perhaps the entire metal scene. You’d be hard-pressed to argue that but not to connect many other musicians to him in six degrees or less, as Rogga contributes to forty-eight active bands and has seventeen past outfits on his resume. Rogga’s longstanding relationship with German vocalist and friend Marc Grewe (Morgoth) culminated in the 2020 formation of Leper Colony, which hit the ground running with its self-titled debut in 2023, garnering a 3.5/5.0 rating from Crispy Hooligan. With Leper Colony‘s sophomore effort and first for Testimony Records, Those of the Morbid, I’m primed to find out what kind of Swede-anigans Rogga’s up to now.
Sadly, Those of the Morbid highlights one of the most significant problems with leprosy, and that is shit starts to fall off.1 Which, in Leper Colony‘s case, means way more than a sophomore slump. Every limb left on the diseased body of the debut has fallen off Those of the Morbid‘s frame. Sure, it’s still death metal, but generic in a way that defies legitimate sonic comparison. There are faint Slayer vibes in the harmonized guitar intro of “Facing the Faceless,” I guess, and far-flung hints of Bolt Thrower in the again harmonized leads of “Realm of Madness,” but even these are ‘meh’ connections. Things of the Morbid is full of tepid Rogga riffs, the HM2 more butter knife than buzzsaw, assembled into mostly punk-infused death metal compositions. Jon Rudin (Monstrous) lays down loads of 4/4 straight beats and double kicks with tempo shifts and a few flourished fills thrown in for variation (“Those of the Morbid Inclination”). At the same time, Wombath‘s Håkan Stuvemark handles lead guitar duties, his solos adequate but uninspiring (“Master’s Voice”). And you have Grewe helming the mic again, his unhinged screams, shouts, and shrieks possibly the only thing keeping Those of the Morbid from falling further apart.
Void of engaging songwriting fans expect from a Rogga project, Those of the Morbid has a cut-and-paste feel—photo-shopped band image included—that cling to rigid death-punk tropes and rarely color outside the lines (“Flesh to Rot to Ashes”). Lyrics are horror-themed and amateurish, with the especially juvenile, ‘Suck at the teet, of the Apocalypse Whore!’ one of the more egregious examples. Things of the Morbid is an album a younger, stuck-in-the-midwest me might have come across at Wal-Mart, snatching it up like some uber-extreme gem, but no. There is no questioning Leper Colony‘s pedigree, as each member has had a hand in some of death metal’s more influential offerings, which makes the mediocrity of Those of the Morbid even more baffling.
I’m a person who strives to find the good in everything, which has made covering Leper Colony‘s Those of the Morbid tough, as the tone of this review has been primarily negative. Are there no redeeming qualities within Those of the Morbid? Well, yes, actually, there are a couple. First, I dig the Felipe Mora cover art. It’s what drew my eye to Leper Colony in the first place. Second is the album closer, “A Story in Red.” It’s a decently executed slow-burner with melodic guitar riffs that finds Grewe channeling Lemmy Kilmister and Crowbar‘s Kirk Windstein. Taking up four minutes and fourteen seconds of Morbid‘s very short twenty-nine-minute runtime, though even this track suffers a bit from an anticlimactic fade-out instead of ending on a more confident note.
We’ve reached the end of this review together, dear reader, and I’ve said all I can say about Leper Colony and what I think of Those of the Morbid.2 While I wasn’t expecting the masterpiece nearly a dozen AMG writers believe is somewhere inside Rogga Johansson, I certainly wasn’t expecting this. The bright side is that Rogga’s forty-eight other bands have more to choose from, so I’m not that put out. Playing a rousing game of Six Degrees of Rogga will be more fun than listening to Those of the Morbid, so here’s some low-hanging fruit to get you all started: Glen Benton.
Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Testimony Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: May 2nd, 2025#15 #2025 #BoltThrower #DeathMetal #GermanMetal #LeperColony #May25 #Review #Reviews #RoggaJohansson #Slayer #TestimonyRecords #ThoseOfTheMorbid
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Leper Colony – Those of the Morbid Review
By Tyme
Have you ever played Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon? When you try to connect another actor to Kevin Bacon via the films they’ve been in, winners make that connection in the fewest “degrees” possible? A quick reference of the Archives convinced me Rogga Johansson may be the Kevin Bacon of the Swedish metal scene, perhaps the entire metal scene. You’d be hard-pressed to argue that but not to connect many other musicians to him in six degrees or less, as Rogga contributes to forty-eight active bands and has seventeen past outfits on his resume. Rogga’s longstanding relationship with German vocalist and friend Marc Grewe (Morgoth) culminated in the 2020 formation of Leper Colony, which hit the ground running with its self-titled debut in 2023, garnering a 3.5/5.0 rating from Crispy Hooligan. With Leper Colony‘s sophomore effort and first for Testimony Records, Those of the Morbid, I’m primed to find out what kind of Swede-anigans Rogga’s up to now.
Sadly, Those of the Morbid highlights one of the most significant problems with leprosy, and that is shit starts to fall off.1 Which, in Leper Colony‘s case, means way more than a sophomore slump. Every limb left on the diseased body of the debut has fallen off Those of the Morbid‘s frame. Sure, it’s still death metal, but generic in a way that defies legitimate sonic comparison. There are faint Slayer vibes in the harmonized guitar intro of “Facing the Faceless,” I guess, and far-flung hints of Bolt Thrower in the again harmonized leads of “Realm of Madness,” but even these are ‘meh’ connections. Things of the Morbid is full of tepid Rogga riffs, the HM2 more butter knife than buzzsaw, assembled into mostly punk-infused death metal compositions. Jon Rudin (Monstrous) lays down loads of 4/4 straight beats and double kicks with tempo shifts and a few flourished fills thrown in for variation (“Those of the Morbid Inclination”). At the same time, Wombath‘s Håkan Stuvemark handles lead guitar duties, his solos adequate but uninspiring (“Master’s Voice”). And you have Grewe helming the mic again, his unhinged screams, shouts, and shrieks possibly the only thing keeping Those of the Morbid from falling further apart.
Void of engaging songwriting fans expect from a Rogga project, Those of the Morbid has a cut-and-paste feel—photo-shopped band image included—that cling to rigid death-punk tropes and rarely color outside the lines (“Flesh to Rot to Ashes”). Lyrics are horror-themed and amateurish, with the especially juvenile, ‘Suck at the teet, of the Apocalypse Whore!’ one of the more egregious examples. Things of the Morbid is an album a younger, stuck-in-the-midwest me might have come across at Wal-Mart, snatching it up like some uber-extreme gem, but no. There is no questioning Leper Colony‘s pedigree, as each member has had a hand in some of death metal’s more influential offerings, which makes the mediocrity of Those of the Morbid even more baffling.
I’m a person who strives to find the good in everything, which has made covering Leper Colony‘s Those of the Morbid tough, as the tone of this review has been primarily negative. Are there no redeeming qualities within Those of the Morbid? Well, yes, actually, there are a couple. First, I dig the Felipe Mora cover art. It’s what drew my eye to Leper Colony in the first place. Second is the album closer, “A Story in Red.” It’s a decently executed slow-burner with melodic guitar riffs that finds Grewe channeling Lemmy Kilmister and Crowbar‘s Kirk Windstein. Taking up four minutes and fourteen seconds of Morbid‘s very short twenty-nine-minute runtime, though even this track suffers a bit from an anticlimactic fade-out instead of ending on a more confident note.
We’ve reached the end of this review together, dear reader, and I’ve said all I can say about Leper Colony and what I think of Those of the Morbid.2 While I wasn’t expecting the masterpiece nearly a dozen AMG writers believe is somewhere inside Rogga Johansson, I certainly wasn’t expecting this. The bright side is that Rogga’s forty-eight other bands have more to choose from, so I’m not that put out. Playing a rousing game of Six Degrees of Rogga will be more fun than listening to Those of the Morbid, so here’s some low-hanging fruit to get you all started: Glen Benton.
Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Testimony Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: May 2nd, 2025#15 #2025 #BoltThrower #DeathMetal #GermanMetal #LeperColony #May25 #Review #Reviews #RoggaJohansson #Slayer #TestimonyRecords #ThoseOfTheMorbid
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By El Cuervo
Lik have become a low-key favorite among the old school death metal nerds of Angry Metal Guy. Mass Funeral Evocation is one of stronger debuts from the last decade, while Carnage doubled down on its strengths. While I personally found Misanthrophic Breed less compelling, it had fans among other writers. And besides two albums of great (and one album of average) death metal, Lik have also gifted me one of the coolest experiences of my life: the immortal Mikael Stanne fist-bumping me as I donned one of their shirts at 70000 Tons of Metal. It was therefore with high expectations that I embarked on this review.
At its core, Necro remains an old school death metal album. The spectres of Entombed and Dismember loom heavily over Lik; such is the lot of all Swedish metalheads indulging in a spot of the necrophiliac arts. But recent years have also found the troupe eagerly devouring the corpse of In Flames, if buried in their 90s heyday. “War Praise” opens with a machine-gunning lead you might expect from an early 90s death metal record, but this swiftly gives way to a shredding lick that caps the song’s introduction and acts as an instrumental quasi-chorus. The shredding guitar tone skips over the harshness of At the Gates and bee-lines straight for the relative clarity of their more melodic comparators. It’s just a brief taster of a melodic sound that will recur later on the album. Make no mistake; this is still death metal of the blood-spattered variety. But the melodic punch belies a group casting their deathly gaze away from their Stockholm roots towards Gothenburg on the other side of the country.
As if to assuage any trepidation of existing fans concerned about “melody” or “hooks” (forgetting, of course, that Lik have always favored hooks, even if heavy ones), the vast majority of the ten tracks here prioritize the fusion of bludgeoning rhythms and scything melodies that is unique to Swedish death metal. Though Necro may have a melodic knack, the savage bite of its guitars always comes first. “Worms Inside” features a particularly fast and brutal opening, leading with a riff that bulges like a vein on the verge of explosion. And “Shred into Pieces” almost has the speed and relentlessness of grindcore. The energetic vocalist barks through ridiculous lyrics that are as violent as they are depraved, while the drums sound more powerful than ever as they’re presented more prominently in the mix than previously. Lik manifest a never-ending pursuit of exciting, energetic music, and their morgue-defiling enthusiasm is infectious.
Besides the judicious injection of melody through cleaner guitar tones and/or harmonizing guitars, Necro further demonstrates a song-writing hand that’s beginning to develop from pure, old school death metal. “Morgue Rat” opens with a purring bass and techy leads, but later orients around the rhythmic, expressive vocals, its lyrics dripping with blood and semen. While they begin in guttural territory, the back half progresses to a blacker, witchy shriek. Likewise, an unexpected mid-song interlude lends an air of intrigue and re-energizes the song for its finale. “In Ruins” is the most expansive track here; it deliberately shuffles a slower, doomy introduction, frenzied solos, pulsating rhythms, and harmonized shouts into a song that feels more than the sum of these parts. This and “Rotten Inferno” feel more thoughtful and varied as they frequently switch gears and escape the trappings of a verse/chorus structure.
Necro is a fundamentally sound album. It does what all good old school death metal albums do by focusing on razor-sharp leads, lo-fi production,n and energetic song-writing. It’s impossible to be a fan of death metal and not enjoy Lik. So why no better than a 3.5? I still feel that the sharpest edges in the Lik discography are in the past; Necro just isn’t as joyous or memorable as Mass Funeral Evocation or Carnage. Although it strives to expand the core sounds it uses, it isn’t so good as to escape the trappings of a sound that’s already been heard many times over. I didn’t necessarily expect more, but I had hoped the newfound development might push the band a little further.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps MP3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: likofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/lik
Releases Worldwide: April 18th, 2025#2025 #35 #Apr25 #AtTheGates #DeathMetal #Dismember #Entombed #InFlames #LIK #Necro #Review #Reviews #SwedishMetal
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By El Cuervo
Lik have become a low-key favorite among the old school death metal nerds of Angry Metal Guy. Mass Funeral Evocation is one of stronger debuts from the last decade, while Carnage doubled down on its strengths. While I personally found Misanthrophic Breed less compelling, it had fans among other writers. And besides two albums of great (and one album of average) death metal, Lik have also gifted me one of the coolest experiences of my life: the immortal Mikael Stanne fist-bumping me as I donned one of their shirts at 70000 Tons of Metal. It was therefore with high expectations that I embarked on this review.
At its core, Necro remains an old school death metal album. The spectres of Entombed and Dismember loom heavily over Lik; such is the lot of all Swedish metalheads indulging in a spot of the necrophiliac arts. But recent years have also found the troupe eagerly devouring the corpse of In Flames, if buried in their 90s heyday. “War Praise” opens with a machine-gunning lead you might expect from an early 90s death metal record, but this swiftly gives way to a shredding lick that caps the song’s introduction and acts as an instrumental quasi-chorus. The shredding guitar tone skips over the harshness of At the Gates and bee-lines straight for the relative clarity of their more melodic comparators. It’s just a brief taster of a melodic sound that will recur later on the album. Make no mistake; this is still death metal of the blood-spattered variety. But the melodic punch belies a group casting their deathly gaze away from their Stockholm roots towards Gothenburg on the other side of the country.
As if to assuage any trepidation of existing fans concerned about “melody” or “hooks” (forgetting, of course, that Lik have always favored hooks, even if heavy ones), the vast majority of the ten tracks here prioritize the fusion of bludgeoning rhythms and scything melodies that is unique to Swedish death metal. Though Necro may have a melodic knack, the savage bite of its guitars always comes first. “Worms Inside” features a particularly fast and brutal opening, leading with a riff that bulges like a vein on the verge of explosion. And “Shred into Pieces” almost has the speed and relentlessness of grindcore. The energetic vocalist barks through ridiculous lyrics that are as violent as they are depraved, while the drums sound more powerful than ever as they’re presented more prominently in the mix than previously. Lik manifest a never-ending pursuit of exciting, energetic music, and their morgue-defiling enthusiasm is infectious.
Besides the judicious injection of melody through cleaner guitar tones and/or harmonizing guitars, Necro further demonstrates a song-writing hand that’s beginning to develop from pure, old school death metal. “Morgue Rat” opens with a purring bass and techy leads, but later orients around the rhythmic, expressive vocals, its lyrics dripping with blood and semen. While they begin in guttural territory, the back half progresses to a blacker, witchy shriek. Likewise, an unexpected mid-song interlude lends an air of intrigue and re-energizes the song for its finale. “In Ruins” is the most expansive track here; it deliberately shuffles a slower, doomy introduction, frenzied solos, pulsating rhythms, and harmonized shouts into a song that feels more than the sum of these parts. This and “Rotten Inferno” feel more thoughtful and varied as they frequently switch gears and escape the trappings of a verse/chorus structure.
Necro is a fundamentally sound album. It does what all good old school death metal albums do by focusing on razor-sharp leads, lo-fi production,n and energetic song-writing. It’s impossible to be a fan of death metal and not enjoy Lik. So why no better than a 3.5? I still feel that the sharpest edges in the Lik discography are in the past; Necro just isn’t as joyous or memorable as Mass Funeral Evocation or Carnage. Although it strives to expand the core sounds it uses, it isn’t so good as to escape the trappings of a sound that’s already been heard many times over. I didn’t necessarily expect more, but I had hoped the newfound development might push the band a little further.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps MP3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: likofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/lik
Releases Worldwide: April 18th, 2025#2025 #35 #Apr25 #AtTheGates #DeathMetal #Dismember #Entombed #InFlames #LIK #Necro #Review #Reviews #SwedishMetal
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By El Cuervo
Lik have become a low-key favorite among the old school death metal nerds of Angry Metal Guy. Mass Funeral Evocation is one of stronger debuts from the last decade, while Carnage doubled down on its strengths. While I personally found Misanthrophic Breed less compelling, it had fans among other writers. And besides two albums of great (and one album of average) death metal, Lik have also gifted me one of the coolest experiences of my life: the immortal Mikael Stanne fist-bumping me as I donned one of their shirts at 70000 Tons of Metal. It was therefore with high expectations that I embarked on this review.
At its core, Necro remains an old school death metal album. The spectres of Entombed and Dismember loom heavily over Lik; such is the lot of all Swedish metalheads indulging in a spot of the necrophiliac arts. But recent years have also found the troupe eagerly devouring the corpse of In Flames, if buried in their 90s heyday. “War Praise” opens with a machine-gunning lead you might expect from an early 90s death metal record, but this swiftly gives way to a shredding lick that caps the song’s introduction and acts as an instrumental quasi-chorus. The shredding guitar tone skips over the harshness of At the Gates and bee-lines straight for the relative clarity of their more melodic comparators. It’s just a brief taster of a melodic sound that will recur later on the album. Make no mistake; this is still death metal of the blood-spattered variety. But the melodic punch belies a group casting their deathly gaze away from their Stockholm roots towards Gothenburg on the other side of the country.
As if to assuage any trepidation of existing fans concerned about “melody” or “hooks” (forgetting, of course, that Lik have always favored hooks, even if heavy ones), the vast majority of the ten tracks here prioritize the fusion of bludgeoning rhythms and scything melodies that is unique to Swedish death metal. Though Necro may have a melodic knack, the savage bite of its guitars always comes first. “Worms Inside” features a particularly fast and brutal opening, leading with a riff that bulges like a vein on the verge of explosion. And “Shred into Pieces” almost has the speed and relentlessness of grindcore. The energetic vocalist barks through ridiculous lyrics that are as violent as they are depraved, while the drums sound more powerful than ever as they’re presented more prominently in the mix than previously. Lik manifest a never-ending pursuit of exciting, energetic music, and their morgue-defiling enthusiasm is infectious.
Besides the judicious injection of melody through cleaner guitar tones and/or harmonizing guitars, Necro further demonstrates a song-writing hand that’s beginning to develop from pure, old school death metal. “Morgue Rat” opens with a purring bass and techy leads, but later orients around the rhythmic, expressive vocals, its lyrics dripping with blood and semen. While they begin in guttural territory, the back half progresses to a blacker, witchy shriek. Likewise, an unexpected mid-song interlude lends an air of intrigue and re-energizes the song for its finale. “In Ruins” is the most expansive track here; it deliberately shuffles a slower, doomy introduction, frenzied solos, pulsating rhythms, and harmonized shouts into a song that feels more than the sum of these parts. This and “Rotten Inferno” feel more thoughtful and varied as they frequently switch gears and escape the trappings of a verse/chorus structure.
Necro is a fundamentally sound album. It does what all good old school death metal albums do by focusing on razor-sharp leads, lo-fi production,n and energetic song-writing. It’s impossible to be a fan of death metal and not enjoy Lik. So why no better than a 3.5? I still feel that the sharpest edges in the Lik discography are in the past; Necro just isn’t as joyous or memorable as Mass Funeral Evocation or Carnage. Although it strives to expand the core sounds it uses, it isn’t so good as to escape the trappings of a sound that’s already been heard many times over. I didn’t necessarily expect more, but I had hoped the newfound development might push the band a little further.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps MP3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: likofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/lik
Releases Worldwide: April 18th, 2025#2025 #35 #Apr25 #AtTheGates #DeathMetal #Dismember #Entombed #InFlames #LIK #Necro #Review #Reviews #SwedishMetal
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By El Cuervo
Lik have become a low-key favorite among the old school death metal nerds of Angry Metal Guy. Mass Funeral Evocation is one of stronger debuts from the last decade, while Carnage doubled down on its strengths. While I personally found Misanthrophic Breed less compelling, it had fans among other writers. And besides two albums of great (and one album of average) death metal, Lik have also gifted me one of the coolest experiences of my life: the immortal Mikael Stanne fist-bumping me as I donned one of their shirts at 70000 Tons of Metal. It was therefore with high expectations that I embarked on this review.
At its core, Necro remains an old school death metal album. The spectres of Entombed and Dismember loom heavily over Lik; such is the lot of all Swedish metalheads indulging in a spot of the necrophiliac arts. But recent years have also found the troupe eagerly devouring the corpse of In Flames, if buried in their 90s heyday. “War Praise” opens with a machine-gunning lead you might expect from an early 90s death metal record, but this swiftly gives way to a shredding lick that caps the song’s introduction and acts as an instrumental quasi-chorus. The shredding guitar tone skips over the harshness of At the Gates and bee-lines straight for the relative clarity of their more melodic comparators. It’s just a brief taster of a melodic sound that will recur later on the album. Make no mistake; this is still death metal of the blood-spattered variety. But the melodic punch belies a group casting their deathly gaze away from their Stockholm roots towards Gothenburg on the other side of the country.
As if to assuage any trepidation of existing fans concerned about “melody” or “hooks” (forgetting, of course, that Lik have always favored hooks, even if heavy ones), the vast majority of the ten tracks here prioritize the fusion of bludgeoning rhythms and scything melodies that is unique to Swedish death metal. Though Necro may have a melodic knack, the savage bite of its guitars always comes first. “Worms Inside” features a particularly fast and brutal opening, leading with a riff that bulges like a vein on the verge of explosion. And “Shred into Pieces” almost has the speed and relentlessness of grindcore. The energetic vocalist barks through ridiculous lyrics that are as violent as they are depraved, while the drums sound more powerful than ever as they’re presented more prominently in the mix than previously. Lik manifest a never-ending pursuit of exciting, energetic music, and their morgue-defiling enthusiasm is infectious.
Besides the judicious injection of melody through cleaner guitar tones and/or harmonizing guitars, Necro further demonstrates a song-writing hand that’s beginning to develop from pure, old school death metal. “Morgue Rat” opens with a purring bass and techy leads, but later orients around the rhythmic, expressive vocals, its lyrics dripping with blood and semen. While they begin in guttural territory, the back half progresses to a blacker, witchy shriek. Likewise, an unexpected mid-song interlude lends an air of intrigue and re-energizes the song for its finale. “In Ruins” is the most expansive track here; it deliberately shuffles a slower, doomy introduction, frenzied solos, pulsating rhythms, and harmonized shouts into a song that feels more than the sum of these parts. This and “Rotten Inferno” feel more thoughtful and varied as they frequently switch gears and escape the trappings of a verse/chorus structure.
Necro is a fundamentally sound album. It does what all good old school death metal albums do by focusing on razor-sharp leads, lo-fi production,n and energetic song-writing. It’s impossible to be a fan of death metal and not enjoy Lik. So why no better than a 3.5? I still feel that the sharpest edges in the Lik discography are in the past; Necro just isn’t as joyous or memorable as Mass Funeral Evocation or Carnage. Although it strives to expand the core sounds it uses, it isn’t so good as to escape the trappings of a sound that’s already been heard many times over. I didn’t necessarily expect more, but I had hoped the newfound development might push the band a little further.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps MP3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: likofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/lik
Releases Worldwide: April 18th, 2025#2025 #35 #Apr25 #AtTheGates #DeathMetal #Dismember #Entombed #InFlames #LIK #Necro #Review #Reviews #SwedishMetal
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Tómarúm – Beyond Obsidian Euphoria
By Kenstrosity
Over the past three years, I’ve come to appreciate Tómarúm’s surprising, mature debut Ash in Realms of Stone Icons at a deeper level than I had hoped to reach in the mere two weeks provided at the time. While I stand by my overall score—and by my critiques—my relationship with that record grew more meaningful and rewarding with time. Tómarúm’s spiritually charged, introspective point of view speaks volumes of suffering and strife, while the complexity of their musical compositions reflects in uncompromising clarity the fluid order that governs a turbulent chaos of the soul and of the heart. With this fresh in mind, I approach follow-up Beyond Obsidian Euphoria with great curiosity and equal anticipation.
Occupying a niche of progressive metal most commonly associated with acts like Ne Obliviscaris, but also connected to newer groups such as Amiensus, An Abstract Illusion, and Dawn of Ouroboros, Atlanta quintet Tómarúm boast an especially fluid and emotive sound. Progressive structures and ever-shifting phrases abound, yet never intrude, obstruct, or interrupt. Technical prowess reminiscent of Fallujah and Lunar Chamber creates additional dynamics most noticeably felt in the bass guitar, lead guitar, and drum performances. And, to my great delight, a new twist of machine-gun burst riffing pulled from Warforged‘s I: Voice playbook grants a palpable, terrifying presence. Beyond Obsidian Euphoria takes all of these elements, intrinsic to Tómarúm’s identity, and implements them with the same finesse and refinement of the last record, but with an altogether more hopeful tone. While still dealing with subjects of profound anguish and emotional turmoil, Beyond explores further the catharsis borne of dedicated, dogged persistence against those internal demons which would otherwise have your singular light extinguished from this mortal coil.
Nothing better exemplifies this shift in tone than the one-two punch of standout duo “Shallow Ecstasy” and “Shed This Erroneous Skin.” Epic sweeps of ominous shadow collide with shimmers of brilliance as menacing pummels advance their campaign against soaring leads and righteous solos. Those blackened rasps that voiced past work join the fray again as crooning cleans provide motivating counterpoint to fuel the flame of continuing life. A vivid chiaroscuro of composition personifies every moment across this 16-minute span, but the surrounding environs offer just as many dynamic moments of beauty and beastliness. The remarkably short and savage “Blood Mirage” deals massive damage to the cranium as it executes a brutal assault of riffs and tech-y oscillations, while “Halcyon Memory: Dreamscapes Across the Blue” evokes an Hail Spirit Noir-esque airiness that belies its double-bass propulsion and quasi-bluesy harmonized solos. The gamut of sounds, styles and textures malleate as soft putty in Tómarúm’s talented fingers, which allows their unfaltering focus on story and character to shine ever brighter on Beyond’s second immense suite of epics, “Silver, Ashen Tears” and “The Final Pursuit of Light.” Any impression of bloat falls to the wayside in the face of such nuanced and well-realized musical design, as melody, pace, substance, and technicality find a kaleidoscopic harmony striking in its multifaceted vibrancy.
At just under 70 minutes, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria daunts any audience with a monumental investment. The dividends, however, more than make up for the sacrifice. That is, if the listener is willing and ready to dig deep and find those moments most intimate and vulnerable. That delicate pluck of the string in a phrase flanked by vicious scrapes; the contrabass frequency that stimulates the spine as starry tremolos dot the sky; the desperate howl of pain and of shattered spirit that preludes an epiphany of truth and of healing; the miraculous congregation of hook and sophistication moving in tandem towards a shared apex of sound and story; all find a place in this wonderful piece, and each piece has its place. Unlike my experience with Ash in Realms, my experience with Beyond is one of complete and utter immersion. There is hardly a moment I would change, barely a segment I would cut—save for the fluffy interlude “Introspection III,” appearing too early on to leave a lasting mark by the close.
Occasionally, I find myself unable to dedicate the time necessary to engage with Tómarúm’s latest opus. I expect that others will experience the same unfortunate circumstance. While that certainly poses a question to the value statement of an album this long, specifically because its individual chapters can’t be separated without compromising the integrity of the whole, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria feels like a rare record that needs every second it consumes. The passion and personality Tómarúm exude in this work demands the price of time to bloom. If you give it the space to do so, what awaits can only be described as euphoric.
Rating: Excellent!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: tomarum.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/TomarumBM/
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Amiensus #AnAbstractIllusion #Apr25 #BeyondObsidianEuphoria #BlackMetal #Cormorant #DawnOfOuroboros #DeathMetal #Fallujah #HailSpiritNoir #LunarChamber #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #NeObliviscaris #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tómarúm #Warforged
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Tómarúm – Beyond Obsidian Euphoria
By Kenstrosity
Over the past three years, I’ve come to appreciate Tómarúm’s surprising, mature debut Ash in Realms of Stone Icons at a deeper level than I had hoped to reach in the mere two weeks provided at the time. While I stand by my overall score—and by my critiques—my relationship with that record grew more meaningful and rewarding with time. Tómarúm’s spiritually charged, introspective point of view speaks volumes of suffering and strife, while the complexity of their musical compositions reflects in uncompromising clarity the fluid order that governs a turbulent chaos of the soul and of the heart. With this fresh in mind, I approach follow-up Beyond Obsidian Euphoria with great curiosity and equal anticipation.
Occupying a niche of progressive metal most commonly associated with acts like Ne Obliviscaris, but also connected to newer groups such as Amiensus, An Abstract Illusion, and Dawn of Ouroboros, Atlanta quintet Tómarúm boast an especially fluid and emotive sound. Progressive structures and ever-shifting phrases abound, yet never intrude, obstruct, or interrupt. Technical prowess reminiscent of Fallujah and Lunar Chamber creates additional dynamics most noticeably felt in the bass guitar, lead guitar, and drum performances. And, to my great delight, a new twist of machine-gun burst riffing pulled from Warforged‘s I: Voice playbook grants a palpable, terrifying presence. Beyond Obsidian Euphoria takes all of these elements, intrinsic to Tómarúm’s identity, and implements them with the same finesse and refinement of the last record, but with an altogether more hopeful tone. While still dealing with subjects of profound anguish and emotional turmoil, Beyond explores further the catharsis borne of dedicated, dogged persistence against those internal demons which would otherwise have your singular light extinguished from this mortal coil.
Nothing better exemplifies this shift in tone than the one-two punch of standout duo “Shallow Ecstasy” and “Shed This Erroneous Skin.” Epic sweeps of ominous shadow collide with shimmers of brilliance as menacing pummels advance their campaign against soaring leads and righteous solos. Those blackened rasps that voiced past work join the fray again as crooning cleans provide motivating counterpoint to fuel the flame of continuing life. A vivid chiaroscuro of composition personifies every moment across this 16-minute span, but the surrounding environs offer just as many dynamic moments of beauty and beastliness. The remarkably short and savage “Blood Mirage” deals massive damage to the cranium as it executes a brutal assault of riffs and tech-y oscillations, while “Halcyon Memory: Dreamscapes Across the Blue” evokes an Hail Spirit Noir-esque airiness that belies its double-bass propulsion and quasi-bluesy harmonized solos. The gamut of sounds, styles and textures malleate as soft putty in Tómarúm’s talented fingers, which allows their unfaltering focus on story and character to shine ever brighter on Beyond’s second immense suite of epics, “Silver, Ashen Tears” and “The Final Pursuit of Light.” Any impression of bloat falls to the wayside in the face of such nuanced and well-realized musical design, as melody, pace, substance, and technicality find a kaleidoscopic harmony striking in its multifaceted vibrancy.
At just under 70 minutes, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria daunts any audience with a monumental investment. The dividends, however, more than make up for the sacrifice. That is, if the listener is willing and ready to dig deep and find those moments most intimate and vulnerable. That delicate pluck of the string in a phrase flanked by vicious scrapes; the contrabass frequency that stimulates the spine as starry tremolos dot the sky; the desperate howl of pain and of shattered spirit that preludes an epiphany of truth and of healing; the miraculous congregation of hook and sophistication moving in tandem towards a shared apex of sound and story; all find a place in this wonderful piece, and each piece has its place. Unlike my experience with Ash in Realms, my experience with Beyond is one of complete and utter immersion. There is hardly a moment I would change, barely a segment I would cut—save for the fluffy interlude “Introspection III,” appearing too early on to leave a lasting mark by the close.
Occasionally, I find myself unable to dedicate the time necessary to engage with Tómarúm’s latest opus. I expect that others will experience the same unfortunate circumstance. While that certainly poses a question to the value statement of an album this long, specifically because its individual chapters can’t be separated without compromising the integrity of the whole, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria feels like a rare record that needs every second it consumes. The passion and personality Tómarúm exude in this work demands the price of time to bloom. If you give it the space to do so, what awaits can only be described as euphoric.
Rating: Excellent!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: tomarum.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/TomarumBM/
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Amiensus #AnAbstractIllusion #Apr25 #BeyondObsidianEuphoria #BlackMetal #Cormorant #DawnOfOuroboros #DeathMetal #Fallujah #HailSpiritNoir #LunarChamber #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #NeObliviscaris #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tómarúm #Warforged
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Tómarúm – Beyond Obsidian Euphoria
By Kenstrosity
Over the past three years, I’ve come to appreciate Tómarúm’s surprising, mature debut Ash in Realms of Stone Icons at a deeper level than I had hoped to reach in the mere two weeks provided at the time. While I stand by my overall score—and by my critiques—my relationship with that record grew more meaningful and rewarding with time. Tómarúm’s spiritually charged, introspective point of view speaks volumes of suffering and strife, while the complexity of their musical compositions reflects in uncompromising clarity the fluid order that governs a turbulent chaos of the soul and of the heart. With this fresh in mind, I approach follow-up Beyond Obsidian Euphoria with great curiosity and equal anticipation.
Occupying a niche of progressive metal most commonly associated with acts like Ne Obliviscaris, but also connected to newer groups such as Amiensus, An Abstract Illusion, and Dawn of Ouroboros, Atlanta quintet Tómarúm boast an especially fluid and emotive sound. Progressive structures and ever-shifting phrases abound, yet never intrude, obstruct, or interrupt. Technical prowess reminiscent of Fallujah and Lunar Chamber creates additional dynamics most noticeably felt in the bass guitar, lead guitar, and drum performances. And, to my great delight, a new twist of machine-gun burst riffing pulled from Warforged‘s I: Voice playbook grants a palpable, terrifying presence. Beyond Obsidian Euphoria takes all of these elements, intrinsic to Tómarúm’s identity, and implements them with the same finesse and refinement of the last record, but with an altogether more hopeful tone. While still dealing with subjects of profound anguish and emotional turmoil, Beyond explores further the catharsis borne of dedicated, dogged persistence against those internal demons which would otherwise have your singular light extinguished from this mortal coil.
Nothing better exemplifies this shift in tone than the one-two punch of standout duo “Shallow Ecstasy” and “Shed This Erroneous Skin.” Epic sweeps of ominous shadow collide with shimmers of brilliance as menacing pummels advance their campaign against soaring leads and righteous solos. Those blackened rasps that voiced past work join the fray again as crooning cleans provide motivating counterpoint to fuel the flame of continuing life. A vivid chiaroscuro of composition personifies every moment across this 16-minute span, but the surrounding environs offer just as many dynamic moments of beauty and beastliness. The remarkably short and savage “Blood Mirage” deals massive damage to the cranium as it executes a brutal assault of riffs and tech-y oscillations, while “Halcyon Memory: Dreamscapes Across the Blue” evokes an Hail Spirit Noir-esque airiness that belies its double-bass propulsion and quasi-bluesy harmonized solos. The gamut of sounds, styles and textures malleate as soft putty in Tómarúm’s talented fingers, which allows their unfaltering focus on story and character to shine ever brighter on Beyond’s second immense suite of epics, “Silver, Ashen Tears” and “The Final Pursuit of Light.” Any impression of bloat falls to the wayside in the face of such nuanced and well-realized musical design, as melody, pace, substance, and technicality find a kaleidoscopic harmony striking in its multifaceted vibrancy.
At just under 70 minutes, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria daunts any audience with a monumental investment. The dividends, however, more than make up for the sacrifice. That is, if the listener is willing and ready to dig deep and find those moments most intimate and vulnerable. That delicate pluck of the string in a phrase flanked by vicious scrapes; the contrabass frequency that stimulates the spine as starry tremolos dot the sky; the desperate howl of pain and of shattered spirit that preludes an epiphany of truth and of healing; the miraculous congregation of hook and sophistication moving in tandem towards a shared apex of sound and story; all find a place in this wonderful piece, and each piece has its place. Unlike my experience with Ash in Realms, my experience with Beyond is one of complete and utter immersion. There is hardly a moment I would change, barely a segment I would cut—save for the fluffy interlude “Introspection III,” appearing too early on to leave a lasting mark by the close.
Occasionally, I find myself unable to dedicate the time necessary to engage with Tómarúm’s latest opus. I expect that others will experience the same unfortunate circumstance. While that certainly poses a question to the value statement of an album this long, specifically because its individual chapters can’t be separated without compromising the integrity of the whole, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria feels like a rare record that needs every second it consumes. The passion and personality Tómarúm exude in this work demands the price of time to bloom. If you give it the space to do so, what awaits can only be described as euphoric.
Rating: Excellent!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: tomarum.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/TomarumBM/
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Amiensus #AnAbstractIllusion #Apr25 #BeyondObsidianEuphoria #BlackMetal #Cormorant #DawnOfOuroboros #DeathMetal #Fallujah #HailSpiritNoir #LunarChamber #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #NeObliviscaris #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tómarúm #Warforged
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Tómarúm – Beyond Obsidian Euphoria
By Kenstrosity
Over the past three years, I’ve come to appreciate Tómarúm’s surprising, mature debut Ash in Realms of Stone Icons at a deeper level than I had hoped to reach in the mere two weeks provided at the time. While I stand by my overall score—and by my critiques—my relationship with that record grew more meaningful and rewarding with time. Tómarúm’s spiritually charged, introspective point of view speaks volumes of suffering and strife, while the complexity of their musical compositions reflects in uncompromising clarity the fluid order that governs a turbulent chaos of the soul and of the heart. With this fresh in mind, I approach follow-up Beyond Obsidian Euphoria with great curiosity and equal anticipation.
Occupying a niche of progressive metal most commonly associated with acts like Ne Obliviscaris, but also connected to newer groups such as Amiensus, An Abstract Illusion, and Dawn of Ouroboros, Atlanta quintet Tómarúm boast an especially fluid and emotive sound. Progressive structures and ever-shifting phrases abound, yet never intrude, obstruct, or interrupt. Technical prowess reminiscent of Fallujah and Lunar Chamber creates additional dynamics most noticeably felt in the bass guitar, lead guitar, and drum performances. And, to my great delight, a new twist of machine-gun burst riffing pulled from Warforged‘s I: Voice playbook grants a palpable, terrifying presence. Beyond Obsidian Euphoria takes all of these elements, intrinsic to Tómarúm’s identity, and implements them with the same finesse and refinement of the last record, but with an altogether more hopeful tone. While still dealing with subjects of profound anguish and emotional turmoil, Beyond explores further the catharsis borne of dedicated, dogged persistence against those internal demons which would otherwise have your singular light extinguished from this mortal coil.
Nothing better exemplifies this shift in tone than the one-two punch of standout duo “Shallow Ecstasy” and “Shed This Erroneous Skin.” Epic sweeps of ominous shadow collide with shimmers of brilliance as menacing pummels advance their campaign against soaring leads and righteous solos. Those blackened rasps that voiced past work join the fray again as crooning cleans provide motivating counterpoint to fuel the flame of continuing life. A vivid chiaroscuro of composition personifies every moment across this 16-minute span, but the surrounding environs offer just as many dynamic moments of beauty and beastliness. The remarkably short and savage “Blood Mirage” deals massive damage to the cranium as it executes a brutal assault of riffs and tech-y oscillations, while “Halcyon Memory: Dreamscapes Across the Blue” evokes an Hail Spirit Noir-esque airiness that belies its double-bass propulsion and quasi-bluesy harmonized solos. The gamut of sounds, styles and textures malleate as soft putty in Tómarúm’s talented fingers, which allows their unfaltering focus on story and character to shine ever brighter on Beyond’s second immense suite of epics, “Silver, Ashen Tears” and “The Final Pursuit of Light.” Any impression of bloat falls to the wayside in the face of such nuanced and well-realized musical design, as melody, pace, substance, and technicality find a kaleidoscopic harmony striking in its multifaceted vibrancy.
At just under 70 minutes, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria daunts any audience with a monumental investment. The dividends, however, more than make up for the sacrifice. That is, if the listener is willing and ready to dig deep and find those moments most intimate and vulnerable. That delicate pluck of the string in a phrase flanked by vicious scrapes; the contrabass frequency that stimulates the spine as starry tremolos dot the sky; the desperate howl of pain and of shattered spirit that preludes an epiphany of truth and of healing; the miraculous congregation of hook and sophistication moving in tandem towards a shared apex of sound and story; all find a place in this wonderful piece, and each piece has its place. Unlike my experience with Ash in Realms, my experience with Beyond is one of complete and utter immersion. There is hardly a moment I would change, barely a segment I would cut—save for the fluffy interlude “Introspection III,” appearing too early on to leave a lasting mark by the close.
Occasionally, I find myself unable to dedicate the time necessary to engage with Tómarúm’s latest opus. I expect that others will experience the same unfortunate circumstance. While that certainly poses a question to the value statement of an album this long, specifically because its individual chapters can’t be separated without compromising the integrity of the whole, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria feels like a rare record that needs every second it consumes. The passion and personality Tómarúm exude in this work demands the price of time to bloom. If you give it the space to do so, what awaits can only be described as euphoric.
Rating: Excellent!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: tomarum.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/TomarumBM/
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Amiensus #AnAbstractIllusion #Apr25 #BeyondObsidianEuphoria #BlackMetal #Cormorant #DawnOfOuroboros #DeathMetal #Fallujah #HailSpiritNoir #LunarChamber #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #NeObliviscaris #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tómarúm #Warforged
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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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By Dolphin Whisperer
It’s a bird! It’s a plane? No! It’s a Frogg! Hailing from the festering urban sprawl of New York City, the upstart amphibian clan skews modern in influence and modernER in attack. Pulling the rip to progressive twist of Between the Buried and Me with the focus of tight structures and virtuosic play, Eclipse as a debut full-length, spins scales and riffs in only the way that a driven tech death band can. In this day and age, of course, tech alone can’t make the only splash. But something’s in the water where Frogg dwells, something laced with all the fidgeting whirr and tongue-out gambol for which a thirsting prog fan could ask.
In sweeping flair and uptempo character, Eclipse displays a corona of youthful exuberance around its core of high-practice death metal. Death metal via aggressive, riff-based drives and scratchy, barked vocals anyway—Frogg does not play the straight and skanky vomitous mosh tunes of olde. Rather, the swamp that Frogg inhabits spews a funk that curls senses around the Cynic-enabled rumblings of Augury or the ever-flowing melody of prime Neuraxis. And though the sounds of heavy chord chugs (“Life Zero”) and tricky-picked sweeps (“Interspecific Hybrid Species”) exist along that thought pattern, in bursts of individuality Frogg tears in equal abandon from ethereal jazz fusion (“Walpurgisnacht”) and metalcore-coded guitar fury (“Double Vision Roll”). Ambient long enough to let its gasping audience realign for another round of progressive tumbling, Eclipse barrels from jumping jack percussive runs to full layout fretboard gymnastics to chirping keys alerts all in a steady and vigorous breath.
Dense and meticulous, and through a love of screeching guitar histrionics and high-spirit guitar and synth work, the splatter of Frogg’s patchwork renders clear as a Klimt through virgin eyes. Despite the seeming excess, founding mind (and primary throat) Sky Moon Clark (The Mantle) and Brett Fairchild, while displaying their talent for hyperspeed, harmonized arpeggio runs (“Dandelion,” “Wake Up,” “Interspecific…”), maintain firm drops back into developed melodies and shrill inclusions—squabbling whammy flutters, clanging pick rakes, harmonic pings—to attach madness to memory. Wearing a strong relative compression,1 layers upon layers of these dancing guitar melodies stack atop pummeling kick runs and sputters, and lockstep counterpoint bass runs,2 to construct a shifting, shuffling mass of amplified chatter that never loses momentum. And with breaks both into hand-percussion and piano-led dance moments (“Walpurgisnacht,” “Wake Up,” “Sun Stealer”), full-blown mosh bridges (“Life Zero,” “Omni Trigger”), and guitar hero antics, keeping the feet and neck and fingers still throughout Eclipse is no easy task.
Though the tech lineage waves proudly in every Frogg leap, an attachment to human touches in production keeps Eclipse from feeling like another sterile outing in the crowded genre. It caught me by surprise the first time I heard “Dandelion,” Its introductory tap-sweep bustling with a clacking dryness that exposed its slight imperfections while creating an allure of reckless speed and challenge. Many look to technical expressions of metal to be effortless, but this particular patina about Frogg’s escalating scale runs, which swirls through screaming, bent peaks and note-stuffed solo explosions, transforms the feeling of étude into an extemporaneous romp. In this playful platform, Pat Metheny-imbued guitar whimsy can crash against glitching djentisms to gentle resolve (“Interspecific…”) or even force an end-of-range guitar squeak to take center stage after an exercise of finger envy (“Sun Stealer”). Boisterous might be the default loudness setting for this kind of saturated work, but in Frogg’s and seasoned engineer Jamie King‘s hands, Eclipse finds wrinkles along its dialed lines.
Yet, Eclipse isn’t perfect. Its extreme dedication to complex construction will pose an issue to the unprepared—digesting this kind of technicality-positioned music is never effortless. The volume of riffage, the speed of every rollicking bar, the force of every abundant fill present loaded and crooked in smile, though the shorter-form execution lowers the threshold for repeated exposure. In a rose-colored vision of what progressive death metal can be, Frogg finds a freedom in fanciful melody, brief poppy breaks, and unrestrained (but not all encompassing) musical showmanship. And if a debut can unwrap as fresh as Eclipse does, Frogg may very well find the world entrapped in their sticky wiles.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self Release
Websites: froggofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/froggband | tiktok.com/@froggband3
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Augury #BetweenTheBuriedAndMe #Cynic #Eclipse #Frogg #IndependentRelease #Mar25 #Neuraxis #PatMetheny #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveMetalcore #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #TechnicalDeathMetal
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By Dolphin Whisperer
It’s a bird! It’s a plane? No! It’s a Frogg! Hailing from the festering urban sprawl of New York City, the upstart amphibian clan skews modern in influence and modernER in attack. Pulling the rip to progressive twist of Between the Buried and Me with the focus of tight structures and virtuosic play, Eclipse as a debut full-length, spins scales and riffs in only the way that a driven tech death band can. In this day and age, of course, tech alone can’t make the only splash. But something’s in the water where Frogg dwells, something laced with all the fidgeting whirr and tongue-out gambol for which a thirsting prog fan could ask.
In sweeping flair and uptempo character, Eclipse displays a corona of youthful exuberance around its core of high-practice death metal. Death metal via aggressive, riff-based drives and scratchy, barked vocals anyway—Frogg does not play the straight and skanky vomitous mosh tunes of olde. Rather, the swamp that Frogg inhabits spews a funk that curls senses around the Cynic-enabled rumblings of Augury or the ever-flowing melody of prime Neuraxis. And though the sounds of heavy chord chugs (“Life Zero”) and tricky-picked sweeps (“Interspecific Hybrid Species”) exist along that thought pattern, in bursts of individuality Frogg tears in equal abandon from ethereal jazz fusion (“Walpurgisnacht”) and metalcore-coded guitar fury (“Double Vision Roll”). Ambient long enough to let its gasping audience realign for another round of progressive tumbling, Eclipse barrels from jumping jack percussive runs to full layout fretboard gymnastics to chirping keys alerts all in a steady and vigorous breath.
Dense and meticulous, and through a love of screeching guitar histrionics and high-spirit guitar and synth work, the splatter of Frogg’s patchwork renders clear as a Klimt through virgin eyes. Despite the seeming excess, founding mind (and primary throat) Sky Moon Clark (The Mantle) and Brett Fairchild, while displaying their talent for hyperspeed, harmonized arpeggio runs (“Dandelion,” “Wake Up,” “Interspecific…”), maintain firm drops back into developed melodies and shrill inclusions—squabbling whammy flutters, clanging pick rakes, harmonic pings—to attach madness to memory. Wearing a strong relative compression,1 layers upon layers of these dancing guitar melodies stack atop pummeling kick runs and sputters, and lockstep counterpoint bass runs,2 to construct a shifting, shuffling mass of amplified chatter that never loses momentum. And with breaks both into hand-percussion and piano-led dance moments (“Walpurgisnacht,” “Wake Up,” “Sun Stealer”), full-blown mosh bridges (“Life Zero,” “Omni Trigger”), and guitar hero antics, keeping the feet and neck and fingers still throughout Eclipse is no easy task.
Though the tech lineage waves proudly in every Frogg leap, an attachment to human touches in production keeps Eclipse from feeling like another sterile outing in the crowded genre. It caught me by surprise the first time I heard “Dandelion,” Its introductory tap-sweep bustling with a clacking dryness that exposed its slight imperfections while creating an allure of reckless speed and challenge. Many look to technical expressions of metal to be effortless, but this particular patina about Frogg’s escalating scale runs, which swirls through screaming, bent peaks and note-stuffed solo explosions, transforms the feeling of étude into an extemporaneous romp. In this playful platform, Pat Metheny-imbued guitar whimsy can crash against glitching djentisms to gentle resolve (“Interspecific…”) or even force an end-of-range guitar squeak to take center stage after an exercise of finger envy (“Sun Stealer”). Boisterous might be the default loudness setting for this kind of saturated work, but in Frogg’s and seasoned engineer Jamie King‘s hands, Eclipse finds wrinkles along its dialed lines.
Yet, Eclipse isn’t perfect. Its extreme dedication to complex construction will pose an issue to the unprepared—digesting this kind of technicality-positioned music is never effortless. The volume of riffage, the speed of every rollicking bar, the force of every abundant fill present loaded and crooked in smile, though the shorter-form execution lowers the threshold for repeated exposure. In a rose-colored vision of what progressive death metal can be, Frogg finds a freedom in fanciful melody, brief poppy breaks, and unrestrained (but not all encompassing) musical showmanship. And if a debut can unwrap as fresh as Eclipse does, Frogg may very well find the world entrapped in their sticky wiles.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self Release
Websites: froggofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/froggband | tiktok.com/@froggband3
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Augury #BetweenTheBuriedAndMe #Cynic #Eclipse #Frogg #IndependentRelease #Mar25 #Neuraxis #PatMetheny #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveMetalcore #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #TechnicalDeathMetal
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By Dolphin Whisperer
It’s a bird! It’s a plane? No! It’s a Frogg! Hailing from the festering urban sprawl of New York City, the upstart amphibian clan skews modern in influence and modernER in attack. Pulling the rip to progressive twist of Between the Buried and Me with the focus of tight structures and virtuosic play, Eclipse as a debut full-length, spins scales and riffs in only the way that a driven tech death band can. In this day and age, of course, tech alone can’t make the only splash. But something’s in the water where Frogg dwells, something laced with all the fidgeting whirr and tongue-out gambol for which a thirsting prog fan could ask.
In sweeping flair and uptempo character, Eclipse displays a corona of youthful exuberance around its core of high-practice death metal. Death metal via aggressive, riff-based drives and scratchy, barked vocals anyway—Frogg does not play the straight and skanky vomitous mosh tunes of olde. Rather, the swamp that Frogg inhabits spews a funk that curls senses around the Cynic-enabled rumblings of Augury or the ever-flowing melody of prime Neuraxis. And though the sounds of heavy chord chugs (“Life Zero”) and tricky-picked sweeps (“Interspecific Hybrid Species”) exist along that thought pattern, in bursts of individuality Frogg tears in equal abandon from ethereal jazz fusion (“Walpurgisnacht”) and metalcore-coded guitar fury (“Double Vision Roll”). Ambient long enough to let its gasping audience realign for another round of progressive tumbling, Eclipse barrels from jumping jack percussive runs to full layout fretboard gymnastics to chirping keys alerts all in a steady and vigorous breath.
Dense and meticulous, and through a love of screeching guitar histrionics and high-spirit guitar and synth work, the splatter of Frogg’s patchwork renders clear as a Klimt through virgin eyes. Despite the seeming excess, founding mind (and primary throat) Sky Moon Clark (The Mantle) and Brett Fairchild, while displaying their talent for hyperspeed, harmonized arpeggio runs (“Dandelion,” “Wake Up,” “Interspecific…”), maintain firm drops back into developed melodies and shrill inclusions—squabbling whammy flutters, clanging pick rakes, harmonic pings—to attach madness to memory. Wearing a strong relative compression,1 layers upon layers of these dancing guitar melodies stack atop pummeling kick runs and sputters, and lockstep counterpoint bass runs,2 to construct a shifting, shuffling mass of amplified chatter that never loses momentum. And with breaks both into hand-percussion and piano-led dance moments (“Walpurgisnacht,” “Wake Up,” “Sun Stealer”), full-blown mosh bridges (“Life Zero,” “Omni Trigger”), and guitar hero antics, keeping the feet and neck and fingers still throughout Eclipse is no easy task.
Though the tech lineage waves proudly in every Frogg leap, an attachment to human touches in production keeps Eclipse from feeling like another sterile outing in the crowded genre. It caught me by surprise the first time I heard “Dandelion,” Its introductory tap-sweep bustling with a clacking dryness that exposed its slight imperfections while creating an allure of reckless speed and challenge. Many look to technical expressions of metal to be effortless, but this particular patina about Frogg’s escalating scale runs, which swirls through screaming, bent peaks and note-stuffed solo explosions, transforms the feeling of étude into an extemporaneous romp. In this playful platform, Pat Metheny-imbued guitar whimsy can crash against glitching djentisms to gentle resolve (“Interspecific…”) or even force an end-of-range guitar squeak to take center stage after an exercise of finger envy (“Sun Stealer”). Boisterous might be the default loudness setting for this kind of saturated work, but in Frogg’s and seasoned engineer Jamie King‘s hands, Eclipse finds wrinkles along its dialed lines.
Yet, Eclipse isn’t perfect. Its extreme dedication to complex construction will pose an issue to the unprepared—digesting this kind of technicality-positioned music is never effortless. The volume of riffage, the speed of every rollicking bar, the force of every abundant fill present loaded and crooked in smile, though the shorter-form execution lowers the threshold for repeated exposure. In a rose-colored vision of what progressive death metal can be, Frogg finds a freedom in fanciful melody, brief poppy breaks, and unrestrained (but not all encompassing) musical showmanship. And if a debut can unwrap as fresh as Eclipse does, Frogg may very well find the world entrapped in their sticky wiles.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self Release
Websites: froggofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/froggband | tiktok.com/@froggband3
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Augury #BetweenTheBuriedAndMe #Cynic #Eclipse #Frogg #IndependentRelease #Mar25 #Neuraxis #PatMetheny #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveMetalcore #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #TechnicalDeathMetal
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By Dolphin Whisperer
It’s a bird! It’s a plane? No! It’s a Frogg! Hailing from the festering urban sprawl of New York City, the upstart amphibian clan skews modern in influence and modernER in attack. Pulling the rip to progressive twist of Between the Buried and Me with the focus of tight structures and virtuosic play, Eclipse as a debut full-length, spins scales and riffs in only the way that a driven tech death band can. In this day and age, of course, tech alone can’t make the only splash. But something’s in the water where Frogg dwells, something laced with all the fidgeting whirr and tongue-out gambol for which a thirsting prog fan could ask.
In sweeping flair and uptempo character, Eclipse displays a corona of youthful exuberance around its core of high-practice death metal. Death metal via aggressive, riff-based drives and scratchy, barked vocals anyway—Frogg does not play the straight and skanky vomitous mosh tunes of olde. Rather, the swamp that Frogg inhabits spews a funk that curls senses around the Cynic-enabled rumblings of Augury or the ever-flowing melody of prime Neuraxis. And though the sounds of heavy chord chugs (“Life Zero”) and tricky-picked sweeps (“Interspecific Hybrid Species”) exist along that thought pattern, in bursts of individuality Frogg tears in equal abandon from ethereal jazz fusion (“Walpurgisnacht”) and metalcore-coded guitar fury (“Double Vision Roll”). Ambient long enough to let its gasping audience realign for another round of progressive tumbling, Eclipse barrels from jumping jack percussive runs to full layout fretboard gymnastics to chirping keys alerts all in a steady and vigorous breath.
Dense and meticulous, and through a love of screeching guitar histrionics and high-spirit guitar and synth work, the splatter of Frogg’s patchwork renders clear as a Klimt through virgin eyes. Despite the seeming excess, founding mind (and primary throat) Sky Moon Clark (The Mantle) and Brett Fairchild, while displaying their talent for hyperspeed, harmonized arpeggio runs (“Dandelion,” “Wake Up,” “Interspecific…”), maintain firm drops back into developed melodies and shrill inclusions—squabbling whammy flutters, clanging pick rakes, harmonic pings—to attach madness to memory. Wearing a strong relative compression,1 layers upon layers of these dancing guitar melodies stack atop pummeling kick runs and sputters, and lockstep counterpoint bass runs,2 to construct a shifting, shuffling mass of amplified chatter that never loses momentum. And with breaks both into hand-percussion and piano-led dance moments (“Walpurgisnacht,” “Wake Up,” “Sun Stealer”), full-blown mosh bridges (“Life Zero,” “Omni Trigger”), and guitar hero antics, keeping the feet and neck and fingers still throughout Eclipse is no easy task.
Though the tech lineage waves proudly in every Frogg leap, an attachment to human touches in production keeps Eclipse from feeling like another sterile outing in the crowded genre. It caught me by surprise the first time I heard “Dandelion,” Its introductory tap-sweep bustling with a clacking dryness that exposed its slight imperfections while creating an allure of reckless speed and challenge. Many look to technical expressions of metal to be effortless, but this particular patina about Frogg’s escalating scale runs, which swirls through screaming, bent peaks and note-stuffed solo explosions, transforms the feeling of étude into an extemporaneous romp. In this playful platform, Pat Metheny-imbued guitar whimsy can crash against glitching djentisms to gentle resolve (“Interspecific…”) or even force an end-of-range guitar squeak to take center stage after an exercise of finger envy (“Sun Stealer”). Boisterous might be the default loudness setting for this kind of saturated work, but in Frogg’s and seasoned engineer Jamie King‘s hands, Eclipse finds wrinkles along its dialed lines.
Yet, Eclipse isn’t perfect. Its extreme dedication to complex construction will pose an issue to the unprepared—digesting this kind of technicality-positioned music is never effortless. The volume of riffage, the speed of every rollicking bar, the force of every abundant fill present loaded and crooked in smile, though the shorter-form execution lowers the threshold for repeated exposure. In a rose-colored vision of what progressive death metal can be, Frogg finds a freedom in fanciful melody, brief poppy breaks, and unrestrained (but not all encompassing) musical showmanship. And if a debut can unwrap as fresh as Eclipse does, Frogg may very well find the world entrapped in their sticky wiles.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self Release
Websites: froggofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/froggband | tiktok.com/@froggband3
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Augury #BetweenTheBuriedAndMe #Cynic #Eclipse #Frogg #IndependentRelease #Mar25 #Neuraxis #PatMetheny #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveMetalcore #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #TechnicalDeathMetal