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330 results for “hadronized”
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By El Cuervo
Album concepts can be tricky territory. Especially those based on historical events where accuracy is a pre-requisite. Especially debut albums, where a band is also figuring out their sound. And especially those produced by guys from Finland about the Spanish conquest of the Aztec Empire. The self-titled Caballero by Caballero is just such an album, representing an enthusiast’s exploration of warfare, death, and cult heavy metal bands from the 80s. Is it a match made in the thirteen heavens or in the Nine Hells?
Caballero is the sort of band that I’d love to experience live. It’s easy to imagine they’d be loads of fun because their recording sounds splashy, energetic, and lively. Caballero executes this sound through a lo-fi approach to speedy heavy metal. It has a production aesthetic that evokes a serrated knife; the riffs cut with a sharp edge, but the overall package has an imperfect roughness. Robust guitars orient around headbangable grooves rather than masturbatory solos, and I enjoy the touches of speed metal when the rhythms shift up a gear; its theatricality belies skilled instrumentalists. The back halves on “Mortally Wounded, Counting the Galaxies” and “The Lord of the Day and the Winds” exemplify these elements, running through raucous leads and frantic energy. The music isn’t the best or most innovative heavy metal ever produced, but has grit and personality. Caballero’s 37-minute runtime passes rapidly.
Undermining these qualities, however, are the just-about-tolerable vocals. I admire the effort thrown into the half-sung and half-shouted style, but they rarely hit the notes or power they target. Caballero relies on reverb to confer a thicker tone and greater gravitas they would otherwise lack, but even these can’t overcome a majority that grounds a release that nearly takes flight into something special. If the guitars have an energizing effect, the vocals have the inverse effect. The singing actively detracts from passages like the first heavy part on “The Moor-Slayer”; a grinding, stomping lead is frustrated by shouts that sound out of key. And while I like the marching passage on “La Noche Triste,” especially the layer of shredding guitars, the harmonized chants are extraneous and weak. The vocals are an obvious instrumental weakness when compared with the sharp guitars.
Caballero features a consistency that works in two ways. The first is how the band bridges the riffs and solos in smart ways. “Sorcery Above the Lake of the Water-Dog” is stuffed full of great leads that won’t just get you moving but are also surprisingly technical. The way this track transitions between passages belongs to a 4.0 album, especially as the solo grows naturally out of the noodling preceding lead. The second is a consistency that flows from songwriting that struggles to clearly distinguish tracks. Most unfold in a way that’s largely enjoyable, but they sound more like a collection of riffs stitched together than they do structured songs. This robs some of the satisfaction I typically glean through cohesion. Without strong vocals or vocal melodies, there isn’t a clear delineation between verses, choruses and tracks.
Some albums score in the 2.0-3.0 range because they’re middling releases that fail to stand out from the crowd. Caballero falls into this range because while they have obvious weaknesses, they also boast great advantages. Caballero is far from perfect, but its riffs and sheer entertainment value largely outweigh the imperfections. It’s a robust marker of a young band in ascendancy, so I’ll track their development with interest.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Gates of Hell Records
Website: caballero.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025#2025 #30 #Caballero #FinnishMetal #GatesOfHellRecords #HeavyMetal #Mar25 #Review #Reviews #SpeedMetal
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By El Cuervo
Album concepts can be tricky territory. Especially those based on historical events where accuracy is a pre-requisite. Especially debut albums, where a band is also figuring out their sound. And especially those produced by guys from Finland about the Spanish conquest of the Aztec Empire. The self-titled Caballero by Caballero is just such an album, representing an enthusiast’s exploration of warfare, death, and cult heavy metal bands from the 80s. Is it a match made in the thirteen heavens or in the Nine Hells?
Caballero is the sort of band that I’d love to experience live. It’s easy to imagine they’d be loads of fun because their recording sounds splashy, energetic, and lively. Caballero executes this sound through a lo-fi approach to speedy heavy metal. It has a production aesthetic that evokes a serrated knife; the riffs cut with a sharp edge, but the overall package has an imperfect roughness. Robust guitars orient around headbangable grooves rather than masturbatory solos, and I enjoy the touches of speed metal when the rhythms shift up a gear; its theatricality belies skilled instrumentalists. The back halves on “Mortally Wounded, Counting the Galaxies” and “The Lord of the Day and the Winds” exemplify these elements, running through raucous leads and frantic energy. The music isn’t the best or most innovative heavy metal ever produced, but has grit and personality. Caballero’s 37-minute runtime passes rapidly.
Undermining these qualities, however, are the just-about-tolerable vocals. I admire the effort thrown into the half-sung and half-shouted style, but they rarely hit the notes or power they target. Caballero relies on reverb to confer a thicker tone and greater gravitas they would otherwise lack, but even these can’t overcome a majority that grounds a release that nearly takes flight into something special. If the guitars have an energizing effect, the vocals have the inverse effect. The singing actively detracts from passages like the first heavy part on “The Moor-Slayer”; a grinding, stomping lead is frustrated by shouts that sound out of key. And while I like the marching passage on “La Noche Triste,” especially the layer of shredding guitars, the harmonized chants are extraneous and weak. The vocals are an obvious instrumental weakness when compared with the sharp guitars.
Caballero features a consistency that works in two ways. The first is how the band bridges the riffs and solos in smart ways. “Sorcery Above the Lake of the Water-Dog” is stuffed full of great leads that won’t just get you moving but are also surprisingly technical. The way this track transitions between passages belongs to a 4.0 album, especially as the solo grows naturally out of the noodling preceding lead. The second is a consistency that flows from songwriting that struggles to clearly distinguish tracks. Most unfold in a way that’s largely enjoyable, but they sound more like a collection of riffs stitched together than they do structured songs. This robs some of the satisfaction I typically glean through cohesion. Without strong vocals or vocal melodies, there isn’t a clear delineation between verses, choruses and tracks.
Some albums score in the 2.0-3.0 range because they’re middling releases that fail to stand out from the crowd. Caballero falls into this range because while they have obvious weaknesses, they also boast great advantages. Caballero is far from perfect, but its riffs and sheer entertainment value largely outweigh the imperfections. It’s a robust marker of a young band in ascendancy, so I’ll track their development with interest.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Gates of Hell Records
Website: caballero.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025#2025 #30 #Caballero #FinnishMetal #GatesOfHellRecords #HeavyMetal #Mar25 #Review #Reviews #SpeedMetal
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By El Cuervo
Album concepts can be tricky territory. Especially those based on historical events where accuracy is a pre-requisite. Especially debut albums, where a band is also figuring out their sound. And especially those produced by guys from Finland about the Spanish conquest of the Aztec Empire. The self-titled Caballero by Caballero is just such an album, representing an enthusiast’s exploration of warfare, death, and cult heavy metal bands from the 80s. Is it a match made in the thirteen heavens or in the Nine Hells?
Caballero is the sort of band that I’d love to experience live. It’s easy to imagine they’d be loads of fun because their recording sounds splashy, energetic, and lively. Caballero executes this sound through a lo-fi approach to speedy heavy metal. It has a production aesthetic that evokes a serrated knife; the riffs cut with a sharp edge, but the overall package has an imperfect roughness. Robust guitars orient around headbangable grooves rather than masturbatory solos, and I enjoy the touches of speed metal when the rhythms shift up a gear; its theatricality belies skilled instrumentalists. The back halves on “Mortally Wounded, Counting the Galaxies” and “The Lord of the Day and the Winds” exemplify these elements, running through raucous leads and frantic energy. The music isn’t the best or most innovative heavy metal ever produced, but has grit and personality. Caballero’s 37-minute runtime passes rapidly.
Undermining these qualities, however, are the just-about-tolerable vocals. I admire the effort thrown into the half-sung and half-shouted style, but they rarely hit the notes or power they target. Caballero relies on reverb to confer a thicker tone and greater gravitas they would otherwise lack, but even these can’t overcome a majority that grounds a release that nearly takes flight into something special. If the guitars have an energizing effect, the vocals have the inverse effect. The singing actively detracts from passages like the first heavy part on “The Moor-Slayer”; a grinding, stomping lead is frustrated by shouts that sound out of key. And while I like the marching passage on “La Noche Triste,” especially the layer of shredding guitars, the harmonized chants are extraneous and weak. The vocals are an obvious instrumental weakness when compared with the sharp guitars.
Caballero features a consistency that works in two ways. The first is how the band bridges the riffs and solos in smart ways. “Sorcery Above the Lake of the Water-Dog” is stuffed full of great leads that won’t just get you moving but are also surprisingly technical. The way this track transitions between passages belongs to a 4.0 album, especially as the solo grows naturally out of the noodling preceding lead. The second is a consistency that flows from songwriting that struggles to clearly distinguish tracks. Most unfold in a way that’s largely enjoyable, but they sound more like a collection of riffs stitched together than they do structured songs. This robs some of the satisfaction I typically glean through cohesion. Without strong vocals or vocal melodies, there isn’t a clear delineation between verses, choruses and tracks.
Some albums score in the 2.0-3.0 range because they’re middling releases that fail to stand out from the crowd. Caballero falls into this range because while they have obvious weaknesses, they also boast great advantages. Caballero is far from perfect, but its riffs and sheer entertainment value largely outweigh the imperfections. It’s a robust marker of a young band in ascendancy, so I’ll track their development with interest.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Gates of Hell Records
Website: caballero.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025#2025 #30 #Caballero #FinnishMetal #GatesOfHellRecords #HeavyMetal #Mar25 #Review #Reviews #SpeedMetal
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By El Cuervo
Album concepts can be tricky territory. Especially those based on historical events where accuracy is a pre-requisite. Especially debut albums, where a band is also figuring out their sound. And especially those produced by guys from Finland about the Spanish conquest of the Aztec Empire. The self-titled Caballero by Caballero is just such an album, representing an enthusiast’s exploration of warfare, death, and cult heavy metal bands from the 80s. Is it a match made in the thirteen heavens or in the Nine Hells?
Caballero is the sort of band that I’d love to experience live. It’s easy to imagine they’d be loads of fun because their recording sounds splashy, energetic, and lively. Caballero executes this sound through a lo-fi approach to speedy heavy metal. It has a production aesthetic that evokes a serrated knife; the riffs cut with a sharp edge, but the overall package has an imperfect roughness. Robust guitars orient around headbangable grooves rather than masturbatory solos, and I enjoy the touches of speed metal when the rhythms shift up a gear; its theatricality belies skilled instrumentalists. The back halves on “Mortally Wounded, Counting the Galaxies” and “The Lord of the Day and the Winds” exemplify these elements, running through raucous leads and frantic energy. The music isn’t the best or most innovative heavy metal ever produced, but has grit and personality. Caballero’s 37-minute runtime passes rapidly.
Undermining these qualities, however, are the just-about-tolerable vocals. I admire the effort thrown into the half-sung and half-shouted style, but they rarely hit the notes or power they target. Caballero relies on reverb to confer a thicker tone and greater gravitas they would otherwise lack, but even these can’t overcome a majority that grounds a release that nearly takes flight into something special. If the guitars have an energizing effect, the vocals have the inverse effect. The singing actively detracts from passages like the first heavy part on “The Moor-Slayer”; a grinding, stomping lead is frustrated by shouts that sound out of key. And while I like the marching passage on “La Noche Triste,” especially the layer of shredding guitars, the harmonized chants are extraneous and weak. The vocals are an obvious instrumental weakness when compared with the sharp guitars.
Caballero features a consistency that works in two ways. The first is how the band bridges the riffs and solos in smart ways. “Sorcery Above the Lake of the Water-Dog” is stuffed full of great leads that won’t just get you moving but are also surprisingly technical. The way this track transitions between passages belongs to a 4.0 album, especially as the solo grows naturally out of the noodling preceding lead. The second is a consistency that flows from songwriting that struggles to clearly distinguish tracks. Most unfold in a way that’s largely enjoyable, but they sound more like a collection of riffs stitched together than they do structured songs. This robs some of the satisfaction I typically glean through cohesion. Without strong vocals or vocal melodies, there isn’t a clear delineation between verses, choruses and tracks.
Some albums score in the 2.0-3.0 range because they’re middling releases that fail to stand out from the crowd. Caballero falls into this range because while they have obvious weaknesses, they also boast great advantages. Caballero is far from perfect, but its riffs and sheer entertainment value largely outweigh the imperfections. It’s a robust marker of a young band in ascendancy, so I’ll track their development with interest.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Gates of Hell Records
Website: caballero.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025#2025 #30 #Caballero #FinnishMetal #GatesOfHellRecords #HeavyMetal #Mar25 #Review #Reviews #SpeedMetal
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Moondark – The Abysmal Womb Review
By Tyme
Thirty years is a long time to spend brewing up a debut album, but for Sweden’s Moondark, it’s taken precisely that. Neither the result of sloth nor overwrought perfectionism, Moondark‘s cadre of musicians—composed of current members from Interment and October Tide—have put in plenty of work during this time, contributing to some of Sweden’s heaviest hitters like Katatonia, Centinex, Necrophobic and the tragically short-lived Trees of Eternity.1 Not so hot on the heels then of their independently released Demo #1 in 1993, which Xtreem Music reissued as The Shadowpath in 2015, Moondark and label Pulverised Records are finally ready to serve up debut proper The Abysmal Womb to the masses. Will it shine brightly as a beacon at night, or would it be better for this lunar body to remain eclipsed?
Moondark trades the HM2 pedals and melodicism of their day jobs for a pummeling, straightforward death-doom style on The Abysmal Womb. Solo-less and stripped of technicality as it is, the simple harmonized leads layered over crushing power chords rend the ears and do most of The Abysmal Womb’s damage. Johan Jansson’s and Mattias Norrman’s deliberately restrained yet devastating guitar work conjures strong Bolt Thrower vibes (“Suffer the Dark,” “Infernal Genocide”), as well as whiffs of Bloodbath (“Palliative Dusk”) and sludgy sprinklings of early Crowbar (“Sterile Earth”). Combined with Allan Lundholm’s beefy bass lines and Kennet Englund’s crushing drums, Moondark leaves listeners battered and bruised, as if having survived a ruthless session of sledgehammer flagellation.
Don’t let its near holiday release fool you, there’s no joy within the cavernous confines of Moondark’s creation. The Abysmal Womb’s opening salvo is a one-two punch to the solar plexus and the album’s highlight. “Where Once Was Life,” with its almost Cathedral-esque doom bluesy swagger, will have your head bobbing and your face stanking while the dismal dirge of follow-up “Suffer the Dark” steamrolls you into submission under tank treads of skull-crushing riffs. You’ll be left pining for General Willets and his army of Warmasters to come to the rescue as The Abysmal Womb continues to march, one boot-stomping riff after another. Decimating the last bastion of hope then, and perfectly placed in Peter Bjärgö’s warm and hearty mix are the brutishly discernible growls and icy rasps of vocalist Alexander Högbom, whose Peter Tätgren-does-Ofermod delivery solidifies the relentless atmosphere Moondark is trying to achieve.
However, as The Abysmal Womb crawls past its midpoint, it becomes painfully clear that the horse has been annihilated, yet the beatings continue. Moondark’s firm commitment to plodding pace and nothing-but-bludgeoning riff patterns sees fatigue set in by the end of “Infernal Genocide,” rendering the remainder of The Abysmal Womb a nearly indistinguishable collection of mid-paced riffs as opposed to individually diverse songs. And while I wouldn’t categorize The Abysmal Womb as overtly bloated at just over forty-six minutes, it could benefit from some sloughing. The final track, “Immersed to Crypts,” is the prime example of trimmable fat; with its funeral-like pace and near eight-minute run time—two minutes of which are an ambient outro—spoiling what could have been a stronger outing had the album concluded with the title track.
Scouring the promo pit in December can be tricky, and if you asked me whether I’d enjoy an album made up entirely of mid-paced Bolt Thrower-core and “Eaten”-like Bloodbathery I would immediately tell you, “Hell yes!” But too much of a good thing can sometimes be too much. The Abysmal Womb is a good album, but it suffers under the weight of its commitment. With a dash of the speedy ferocity from Interment and a pinch of October Tide’s melodicism, Moondark might have a masterpiece in its future; the cachet of its members suggests as much. I just hope we don’t have to wait another thirty years to find out.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pulverised Records
Websites: moondark666.bandcamp.com | pulverised.bandcamp.com |
facebook.com/moondark666
Releases Worldwide: December 20th, 2024#2024 #30 #Bloodbath #BoltThrower #Crowbar #DeathMetal #Dec24 #DoomMetal #Moondark #PulverisedRecords #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #SwedishMetal #TheAbysmalWomb
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Moondark – The Abysmal Womb Review
By Tyme
Thirty years is a long time to spend brewing up a debut album, but for Sweden’s Moondark, it’s taken precisely that. Neither the result of sloth nor overwrought perfectionism, Moondark‘s cadre of musicians—composed of current members from Interment and October Tide—have put in plenty of work during this time, contributing to some of Sweden’s heaviest hitters like Katatonia, Centinex, Necrophobic and the tragically short-lived Trees of Eternity.1 Not so hot on the heels then of their independently released Demo #1 in 1993, which Xtreem Music reissued as The Shadowpath in 2015, Moondark and label Pulverised Records are finally ready to serve up debut proper The Abysmal Womb to the masses. Will it shine brightly as a beacon at night, or would it be better for this lunar body to remain eclipsed?
Moondark trades the HM2 pedals and melodicism of their day jobs for a pummeling, straightforward death-doom style on The Abysmal Womb. Solo-less and stripped of technicality as it is, the simple harmonized leads layered over crushing power chords rend the ears and do most of The Abysmal Womb’s damage. Johan Jansson’s and Mattias Norrman’s deliberately restrained yet devastating guitar work conjures strong Bolt Thrower vibes (“Suffer the Dark,” “Infernal Genocide”), as well as whiffs of Bloodbath (“Palliative Dusk”) and sludgy sprinklings of early Crowbar (“Sterile Earth”). Combined with Allan Lundholm’s beefy bass lines and Kennet Englund’s crushing drums, Moondark leaves listeners battered and bruised, as if having survived a ruthless session of sledgehammer flagellation.
Don’t let its near holiday release fool you, there’s no joy within the cavernous confines of Moondark’s creation. The Abysmal Womb’s opening salvo is a one-two punch to the solar plexus and the album’s highlight. “Where Once Was Life,” with its almost Cathedral-esque doom bluesy swagger, will have your head bobbing and your face stanking while the dismal dirge of follow-up “Suffer the Dark” steamrolls you into submission under tank treads of skull-crushing riffs. You’ll be left pining for General Willets and his army of Warmasters to come to the rescue as The Abysmal Womb continues to march, one boot-stomping riff after another. Decimating the last bastion of hope then, and perfectly placed in Peter Bjärgö’s warm and hearty mix are the brutishly discernible growls and icy rasps of vocalist Alexander Högbom, whose Peter Tätgren-does-Ofermod delivery solidifies the relentless atmosphere Moondark is trying to achieve.
However, as The Abysmal Womb crawls past its midpoint, it becomes painfully clear that the horse has been annihilated, yet the beatings continue. Moondark’s firm commitment to plodding pace and nothing-but-bludgeoning riff patterns sees fatigue set in by the end of “Infernal Genocide,” rendering the remainder of The Abysmal Womb a nearly indistinguishable collection of mid-paced riffs as opposed to individually diverse songs. And while I wouldn’t categorize The Abysmal Womb as overtly bloated at just over forty-six minutes, it could benefit from some sloughing. The final track, “Immersed to Crypts,” is the prime example of trimmable fat; with its funeral-like pace and near eight-minute run time—two minutes of which are an ambient outro—spoiling what could have been a stronger outing had the album concluded with the title track.
Scouring the promo pit in December can be tricky, and if you asked me whether I’d enjoy an album made up entirely of mid-paced Bolt Thrower-core and “Eaten”-like Bloodbathery I would immediately tell you, “Hell yes!” But too much of a good thing can sometimes be too much. The Abysmal Womb is a good album, but it suffers under the weight of its commitment. With a dash of the speedy ferocity from Interment and a pinch of October Tide’s melodicism, Moondark might have a masterpiece in its future; the cachet of its members suggests as much. I just hope we don’t have to wait another thirty years to find out.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pulverised Records
Websites: moondark666.bandcamp.com | pulverised.bandcamp.com |
facebook.com/moondark666
Releases Worldwide: December 20th, 2024#2024 #30 #Bloodbath #BoltThrower #Crowbar #DeathMetal #Dec24 #DoomMetal #Moondark #PulverisedRecords #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #SwedishMetal #TheAbysmalWomb
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Moondark – The Abysmal Womb Review
By Tyme
Thirty years is a long time to spend brewing up a debut album, but for Sweden’s Moondark, it’s taken precisely that. Neither the result of sloth nor overwrought perfectionism, Moondark‘s cadre of musicians—composed of current members from Interment and October Tide—have put in plenty of work during this time, contributing to some of Sweden’s heaviest hitters like Katatonia, Centinex, Necrophobic and the tragically short-lived Trees of Eternity.1 Not so hot on the heels then of their independently released Demo #1 in 1993, which Xtreem Music reissued as The Shadowpath in 2015, Moondark and label Pulverised Records are finally ready to serve up debut proper The Abysmal Womb to the masses. Will it shine brightly as a beacon at night, or would it be better for this lunar body to remain eclipsed?
Moondark trades the HM2 pedals and melodicism of their day jobs for a pummeling, straightforward death-doom style on The Abysmal Womb. Solo-less and stripped of technicality as it is, the simple harmonized leads layered over crushing power chords rend the ears and do most of The Abysmal Womb’s damage. Johan Jansson’s and Mattias Norrman’s deliberately restrained yet devastating guitar work conjures strong Bolt Thrower vibes (“Suffer the Dark,” “Infernal Genocide”), as well as whiffs of Bloodbath (“Palliative Dusk”) and sludgy sprinklings of early Crowbar (“Sterile Earth”). Combined with Allan Lundholm’s beefy bass lines and Kennet Englund’s crushing drums, Moondark leaves listeners battered and bruised, as if having survived a ruthless session of sledgehammer flagellation.
Don’t let its near holiday release fool you, there’s no joy within the cavernous confines of Moondark’s creation. The Abysmal Womb’s opening salvo is a one-two punch to the solar plexus and the album’s highlight. “Where Once Was Life,” with its almost Cathedral-esque doom bluesy swagger, will have your head bobbing and your face stanking while the dismal dirge of follow-up “Suffer the Dark” steamrolls you into submission under tank treads of skull-crushing riffs. You’ll be left pining for General Willets and his army of Warmasters to come to the rescue as The Abysmal Womb continues to march, one boot-stomping riff after another. Decimating the last bastion of hope then, and perfectly placed in Peter Bjärgö’s warm and hearty mix are the brutishly discernible growls and icy rasps of vocalist Alexander Högbom, whose Peter Tätgren-does-Ofermod delivery solidifies the relentless atmosphere Moondark is trying to achieve.
However, as The Abysmal Womb crawls past its midpoint, it becomes painfully clear that the horse has been annihilated, yet the beatings continue. Moondark’s firm commitment to plodding pace and nothing-but-bludgeoning riff patterns sees fatigue set in by the end of “Infernal Genocide,” rendering the remainder of The Abysmal Womb a nearly indistinguishable collection of mid-paced riffs as opposed to individually diverse songs. And while I wouldn’t categorize The Abysmal Womb as overtly bloated at just over forty-six minutes, it could benefit from some sloughing. The final track, “Immersed to Crypts,” is the prime example of trimmable fat; with its funeral-like pace and near eight-minute run time—two minutes of which are an ambient outro—spoiling what could have been a stronger outing had the album concluded with the title track.
Scouring the promo pit in December can be tricky, and if you asked me whether I’d enjoy an album made up entirely of mid-paced Bolt Thrower-core and “Eaten”-like Bloodbathery I would immediately tell you, “Hell yes!” But too much of a good thing can sometimes be too much. The Abysmal Womb is a good album, but it suffers under the weight of its commitment. With a dash of the speedy ferocity from Interment and a pinch of October Tide’s melodicism, Moondark might have a masterpiece in its future; the cachet of its members suggests as much. I just hope we don’t have to wait another thirty years to find out.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pulverised Records
Websites: moondark666.bandcamp.com | pulverised.bandcamp.com |
facebook.com/moondark666
Releases Worldwide: December 20th, 2024#2024 #30 #Bloodbath #BoltThrower #Crowbar #DeathMetal #Dec24 #DoomMetal #Moondark #PulverisedRecords #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #SwedishMetal #TheAbysmalWomb
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Onirophagus – Revelations From the Void Review
By Alekhines Gun
2025 has gotten off to a picturesque start. It seems like half my country caught fire, and in the half I dwell in, I woke up to discover my car covered in a pile of icy slush for literally the first time in my life. Such dichotomous, if not ominous, happenings to kick off the review year have me reaching out for appropriate background music, and the fusion of death/doom has answered the call. Hailing from Spain, Onirophagus are one of a legion of bands who were gaining some traction before the Great Tour Cease of the early 20’s. Some lineup shuffling and dedicated writing later, they’ve returned with Revelations From the Void, sporting some fantastic artwork and a soundtrack to kick off the year in a depressive, destructive style.
Much like the multi-eyed creature adorning the cover, Revelations From the Void sounds layered, expansive, and intimidating. The drumming of Uretra sounds fantastic, laced with reverb that gives the crunching riffs an open, arena-rock vastness even as the guitars attempt to crush with extreme prejudice. Guitarists Moregod and Obzen drop weaving, interlacing leads over grooving blows and slow dirges that erupt into pit-combusting speeds (“Landsickness”) without ever sounding forced or awkward in transition. Most songs treat riffing as a one-and-done concept, evolving and unfolding as they progress. As a result, Onirophagus have mastered the art of seamlessly switching between requisite plods and sudden head-shattering blasts without awkward pauses or the crutch of amateurish feedback buildup, ensuring each song possesses strength of character and personality.
Onirophagus aren’t content to merely weave apocalyptic signals of destruction in their sound. The doomier passages allow for very emotive, somber expressions. The spirit of Monolord (particularly their excellent No Comfort) is spread throughout the slower passages, giving moodier and far more human flourishes to what would otherwise be tar-drenched riffs. “Hollow Valley” masterfully weaves mournful melodies under harmonized leads, allowing for peaceful introspection before catching you with a baseball bat from behind to ruin (or improve) your well-being. The fiercer moments unsurprisingly chant the Incantation but sound far more filled with blood and vinegar. Vocalist Paingrinder in particular does a fantastic John McEntee impression, spewing a stomach-gurgling growl and tortured shouts which sound like they crawled from the bottom of ye olde abandoned well.
Revelations From the Void is at its best when it experiments. A few riffs are ridden far too long, particularly in “Black Brew”, which takes a nonsensical amount of time to build up to an unexpected and welcome violin abuse by way of Adaestuo. On the rare occasion Onirophagus do choose to repeat sections, not every obligatory chug-a-thon hits with the same impact, particularly in “Landsickness.” Sporadic flourishes with bells, background choirs, and even excellently placed spoken word pepper the album. Closing track and easy album best “Stargazing into the Void” pulls out all the stops with masterfully paced build, a double violin solo and a vaguely triumphant, uplifting ending, a glimmer of light in an eldritch-laced view of space. Falling into a few genre trappings of prolonged riffing and unequal impact do little to dent the mood presented to us through the album, and this concluding destination is worth the journey.
The year begins in uncertainty and disaster, and as always, metal is here to answer the call. I am pleasantly surprised by the quality found in Revelations From the Void, particularly for a sub-genre that isn’t generally predisposed to experimentation and evolution. An album of much less literary songs of ice and fire, the pairing of dark filth with excellent emotive expression have made for a thematic, artsy beginning to the adventures in store for 2025. Hopefully, Onirophagus continue to spread their artistic wings further and push the limits on what can be done in the death/doom wheelhouse. For now, lovers of the sound should dive in, and if the genre styling tends to leave you cold, give it a chance. You never know what Revelations are waiting for you at the end of the road.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Websites: onirophagus.bandcamp.com/album/revelations-from-the-void-3 | Facebook.com/Onirophagus
Releases Worldwide: January 17th, 2025#2025 #30 #Adaestuo #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #Incantation #Monolord #Onirophagus #PersonalRecords #RevelationsFromTheVoid #Review #Reviews #SpanishMetal
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Onirophagus – Revelations From the Void Review
By Alekhines Gun
2025 has gotten off to a picturesque start. It seems like half my country caught fire, and in the half I dwell in, I woke up to discover my car covered in a pile of icy slush for literally the first time in my life. Such dichotomous, if not ominous, happenings to kick off the review year have me reaching out for appropriate background music, and the fusion of death/doom has answered the call. Hailing from Spain, Onirophagus are one of a legion of bands who were gaining some traction before the Great Tour Cease of the early 20’s. Some lineup shuffling and dedicated writing later, they’ve returned with Revelations From the Void, sporting some fantastic artwork and a soundtrack to kick off the year in a depressive, destructive style.
Much like the multi-eyed creature adorning the cover, Revelations From the Void sounds layered, expansive, and intimidating. The drumming of Uretra sounds fantastic, laced with reverb that gives the crunching riffs an open, arena-rock vastness even as the guitars attempt to crush with extreme prejudice. Guitarists Moregod and Obzen drop weaving, interlacing leads over grooving blows and slow dirges that erupt into pit-combusting speeds (“Landsickness”) without ever sounding forced or awkward in transition. Most songs treat riffing as a one-and-done concept, evolving and unfolding as they progress. As a result, Onirophagus have mastered the art of seamlessly switching between requisite plods and sudden head-shattering blasts without awkward pauses or the crutch of amateurish feedback buildup, ensuring each song possesses strength of character and personality.
Onirophagus aren’t content to merely weave apocalyptic signals of destruction in their sound. The doomier passages allow for very emotive, somber expressions. The spirit of Monolord (particularly their excellent No Comfort) is spread throughout the slower passages, giving moodier and far more human flourishes to what would otherwise be tar-drenched riffs. “Hollow Valley” masterfully weaves mournful melodies under harmonized leads, allowing for peaceful introspection before catching you with a baseball bat from behind to ruin (or improve) your well-being. The fiercer moments unsurprisingly chant the Incantation but sound far more filled with blood and vinegar. Vocalist Paingrinder in particular does a fantastic John McEntee impression, spewing a stomach-gurgling growl and tortured shouts which sound like they crawled from the bottom of ye olde abandoned well.
Revelations From the Void is at its best when it experiments. A few riffs are ridden far too long, particularly in “Black Brew”, which takes a nonsensical amount of time to build up to an unexpected and welcome violin abuse by way of Adaestuo. On the rare occasion Onirophagus do choose to repeat sections, not every obligatory chug-a-thon hits with the same impact, particularly in “Landsickness.” Sporadic flourishes with bells, background choirs, and even excellently placed spoken word pepper the album. Closing track and easy album best “Stargazing into the Void” pulls out all the stops with masterfully paced build, a double violin solo and a vaguely triumphant, uplifting ending, a glimmer of light in an eldritch-laced view of space. Falling into a few genre trappings of prolonged riffing and unequal impact do little to dent the mood presented to us through the album, and this concluding destination is worth the journey.
The year begins in uncertainty and disaster, and as always, metal is here to answer the call. I am pleasantly surprised by the quality found in Revelations From the Void, particularly for a sub-genre that isn’t generally predisposed to experimentation and evolution. An album of much less literary songs of ice and fire, the pairing of dark filth with excellent emotive expression have made for a thematic, artsy beginning to the adventures in store for 2025. Hopefully, Onirophagus continue to spread their artistic wings further and push the limits on what can be done in the death/doom wheelhouse. For now, lovers of the sound should dive in, and if the genre styling tends to leave you cold, give it a chance. You never know what Revelations are waiting for you at the end of the road.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Websites: onirophagus.bandcamp.com/album/revelations-from-the-void-3 | Facebook.com/Onirophagus
Releases Worldwide: January 17th, 2025#2025 #30 #Adaestuo #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #Incantation #Monolord #Onirophagus #PersonalRecords #RevelationsFromTheVoid #Review #Reviews #SpanishMetal
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Onirophagus – Revelations From the Void Review
By Alekhines Gun
2025 has gotten off to a picturesque start. It seems like half my country caught fire, and in the half I dwell in, I woke up to discover my car covered in a pile of icy slush for literally the first time in my life. Such dichotomous, if not ominous, happenings to kick off the review year have me reaching out for appropriate background music, and the fusion of death/doom has answered the call. Hailing from Spain, Onirophagus are one of a legion of bands who were gaining some traction before the Great Tour Cease of the early 20’s. Some lineup shuffling and dedicated writing later, they’ve returned with Revelations From the Void, sporting some fantastic artwork and a soundtrack to kick off the year in a depressive, destructive style.
Much like the multi-eyed creature adorning the cover, Revelations From the Void sounds layered, expansive, and intimidating. The drumming of Uretra sounds fantastic, laced with reverb that gives the crunching riffs an open, arena-rock vastness even as the guitars attempt to crush with extreme prejudice. Guitarists Moregod and Obzen drop weaving, interlacing leads over grooving blows and slow dirges that erupt into pit-combusting speeds (“Landsickness”) without ever sounding forced or awkward in transition. Most songs treat riffing as a one-and-done concept, evolving and unfolding as they progress. As a result, Onirophagus have mastered the art of seamlessly switching between requisite plods and sudden head-shattering blasts without awkward pauses or the crutch of amateurish feedback buildup, ensuring each song possesses strength of character and personality.
Onirophagus aren’t content to merely weave apocalyptic signals of destruction in their sound. The doomier passages allow for very emotive, somber expressions. The spirit of Monolord (particularly their excellent No Comfort) is spread throughout the slower passages, giving moodier and far more human flourishes to what would otherwise be tar-drenched riffs. “Hollow Valley” masterfully weaves mournful melodies under harmonized leads, allowing for peaceful introspection before catching you with a baseball bat from behind to ruin (or improve) your well-being. The fiercer moments unsurprisingly chant the Incantation but sound far more filled with blood and vinegar. Vocalist Paingrinder in particular does a fantastic John McEntee impression, spewing a stomach-gurgling growl and tortured shouts which sound like they crawled from the bottom of ye olde abandoned well.
Revelations From the Void is at its best when it experiments. A few riffs are ridden far too long, particularly in “Black Brew”, which takes a nonsensical amount of time to build up to an unexpected and welcome violin abuse by way of Adaestuo. On the rare occasion Onirophagus do choose to repeat sections, not every obligatory chug-a-thon hits with the same impact, particularly in “Landsickness.” Sporadic flourishes with bells, background choirs, and even excellently placed spoken word pepper the album. Closing track and easy album best “Stargazing into the Void” pulls out all the stops with masterfully paced build, a double violin solo and a vaguely triumphant, uplifting ending, a glimmer of light in an eldritch-laced view of space. Falling into a few genre trappings of prolonged riffing and unequal impact do little to dent the mood presented to us through the album, and this concluding destination is worth the journey.
The year begins in uncertainty and disaster, and as always, metal is here to answer the call. I am pleasantly surprised by the quality found in Revelations From the Void, particularly for a sub-genre that isn’t generally predisposed to experimentation and evolution. An album of much less literary songs of ice and fire, the pairing of dark filth with excellent emotive expression have made for a thematic, artsy beginning to the adventures in store for 2025. Hopefully, Onirophagus continue to spread their artistic wings further and push the limits on what can be done in the death/doom wheelhouse. For now, lovers of the sound should dive in, and if the genre styling tends to leave you cold, give it a chance. You never know what Revelations are waiting for you at the end of the road.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Websites: onirophagus.bandcamp.com/album/revelations-from-the-void-3 | Facebook.com/Onirophagus
Releases Worldwide: January 17th, 2025#2025 #30 #Adaestuo #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #Incantation #Monolord #Onirophagus #PersonalRecords #RevelationsFromTheVoid #Review #Reviews #SpanishMetal
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Onirophagus – Revelations From the Void Review
By Alekhines Gun
2025 has gotten off to a picturesque start. It seems like half my country caught fire, and in the half I dwell in, I woke up to discover my car covered in a pile of icy slush for literally the first time in my life. Such dichotomous, if not ominous, happenings to kick off the review year have me reaching out for appropriate background music, and the fusion of death/doom has answered the call. Hailing from Spain, Onirophagus are one of a legion of bands who were gaining some traction before the Great Tour Cease of the early 20’s. Some lineup shuffling and dedicated writing later, they’ve returned with Revelations From the Void, sporting some fantastic artwork and a soundtrack to kick off the year in a depressive, destructive style.
Much like the multi-eyed creature adorning the cover, Revelations From the Void sounds layered, expansive, and intimidating. The drumming of Uretra sounds fantastic, laced with reverb that gives the crunching riffs an open, arena-rock vastness even as the guitars attempt to crush with extreme prejudice. Guitarists Moregod and Obzen drop weaving, interlacing leads over grooving blows and slow dirges that erupt into pit-combusting speeds (“Landsickness”) without ever sounding forced or awkward in transition. Most songs treat riffing as a one-and-done concept, evolving and unfolding as they progress. As a result, Onirophagus have mastered the art of seamlessly switching between requisite plods and sudden head-shattering blasts without awkward pauses or the crutch of amateurish feedback buildup, ensuring each song possesses strength of character and personality.
Onirophagus aren’t content to merely weave apocalyptic signals of destruction in their sound. The doomier passages allow for very emotive, somber expressions. The spirit of Monolord (particularly their excellent No Comfort) is spread throughout the slower passages, giving moodier and far more human flourishes to what would otherwise be tar-drenched riffs. “Hollow Valley” masterfully weaves mournful melodies under harmonized leads, allowing for peaceful introspection before catching you with a baseball bat from behind to ruin (or improve) your well-being. The fiercer moments unsurprisingly chant the Incantation but sound far more filled with blood and vinegar. Vocalist Paingrinder in particular does a fantastic John McEntee impression, spewing a stomach-gurgling growl and tortured shouts which sound like they crawled from the bottom of ye olde abandoned well.
Revelations From the Void is at its best when it experiments. A few riffs are ridden far too long, particularly in “Black Brew”, which takes a nonsensical amount of time to build up to an unexpected and welcome violin abuse by way of Adaestuo. On the rare occasion Onirophagus do choose to repeat sections, not every obligatory chug-a-thon hits with the same impact, particularly in “Landsickness.” Sporadic flourishes with bells, background choirs, and even excellently placed spoken word pepper the album. Closing track and easy album best “Stargazing into the Void” pulls out all the stops with masterfully paced build, a double violin solo and a vaguely triumphant, uplifting ending, a glimmer of light in an eldritch-laced view of space. Falling into a few genre trappings of prolonged riffing and unequal impact do little to dent the mood presented to us through the album, and this concluding destination is worth the journey.
The year begins in uncertainty and disaster, and as always, metal is here to answer the call. I am pleasantly surprised by the quality found in Revelations From the Void, particularly for a sub-genre that isn’t generally predisposed to experimentation and evolution. An album of much less literary songs of ice and fire, the pairing of dark filth with excellent emotive expression have made for a thematic, artsy beginning to the adventures in store for 2025. Hopefully, Onirophagus continue to spread their artistic wings further and push the limits on what can be done in the death/doom wheelhouse. For now, lovers of the sound should dive in, and if the genre styling tends to leave you cold, give it a chance. You never know what Revelations are waiting for you at the end of the road.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Websites: onirophagus.bandcamp.com/album/revelations-from-the-void-3 | Facebook.com/Onirophagus
Releases Worldwide: January 17th, 2025#2025 #30 #Adaestuo #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #Incantation #Monolord #Onirophagus #PersonalRecords #RevelationsFromTheVoid #Review #Reviews #SpanishMetal
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Misanthropy – The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance Review
By Kenstrosity
Apparently, Chicago progressive tech death quartet Misanthropy used to play thrash metal. Once I learned of this shift, it felt like I could suddenly hear a thrashy thread running through their newest release, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance. Having no prior experience with Misanthropy’s back catalog, I walked into their third record with an open mind, ready and willing to be probed by the wild and the wacky. Sometimes, unexpected changes make for unexpected pleasures.
You’d be forgiven for mistakenly clocking Misanthropy as boilerplate tech death based solely on outward appearances. You’d nonetheless be incorrect. For the longest time, I struggled to nail down exactly what amalgamation of sounds and styles Misanthropy represented. But then I started writing this piece and it hit me. Imagine a dirtier Augury fed through an Atrae Bilis filter and finished with a proggy Atvm glaze, and you have a roughly accurate blueprint of what to expect from current Misanthropy. Twisting, gnarled compositions, motivated by Paul’s multifaceted kitwork, mesh and morph against guitarists Kevin’s and Jose Valles’ unending cavalcade of mind-shredding riffs. Mark’s burbling bass and vicious vox form both the throbbing underbelly and the piercing voice of the record, propelling The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance through its forty-five-minute tale with gusto and gravity. In totality, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance represents a fierce and furious affair. Yet, countless stops and swaps between blistering grooves, manic freakouts, mind-melting churns, and ground-shaking stomps leave me mostly rapt throughout.
Highlighting standout moments on The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance proves a challenge, as Misanthropy penned so many killer passages into these seven songs that it’s hard to pick favorites. Even so, massive pit-opening grooves and slithering riffs elevate thrashier songs like “The All-Devouring” to the top of the pile. An eerie, waltzing dalliance with jazz rhythms allows opener “Of Sulking and the Wrathful” to shine in its back half as well, showcasing Misanthropy’s knack for oddball transitions that work deceivingly well in the context of their chosen style. At first I struggled to appreciate “Condemned to a Nameless Tomb” and “Descent” for their unorthodox combination of Veilburner stream-of-consciousness writing and Artificial Brain shimmer, but with time I grew to appreciate their place in the lineup as the next-door-neighbor monstrosities that they are. Unafraid to get down and dirty, “Sepulcher” offers just the right amount of funky Alkaloid intelligence to offset filthy Incantation tones and harmonized riffing, expertly juggling straightforward and slimy with weird and wretched.
Impressive though it is that Misanthropy managed to cover so much stylistic ground without sullying their unique new character, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance remains a touch disjointed as a whole. Tonally, Misanthropy play fearlessly with rough-hewn textures inside a more clinical environment, but there are moments of mild uncanny valley associated with that experiment, as certain elements of Misanthropy’s flexible sound clash rather than coalesce (“A Cure for the Pestilence”). Misanthropy’s willingness and ability to throw everything but the kitchen sink at their compositions without totally destabilizing everything deserves great respect, but it sometimes comes at the cost of fluidity and cohesion (“Consumed by the Abyss”). This, therefore, makes certain sections of The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance somewhat difficult to listen to casually, as I often lose details or miss quality segments when not listening intently. Additionally, the occasional abrupt switch between unexpected change-ups make already lengthy tracks (most soar past the six minute mark) feel even lengthier.
Thankfully, listening intently is quite literally my job here, and I spend lots of time with my charges. Consequently, I can assure you that The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance represents yet another killer in Transcending Obscurity’s lineup of crazy beasts. It may not be everyone’s favorite creature, but if you aren’t careful, it’s liable to sink its teeth into your flesh and rend it from the bone regardless. Some, if not most, of you would probably love that, I’m sure. If so, Misanthropy’s third unleashment is a fine selection for your sick kicks.
Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: misanthropychicago.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/MisanthropyChicago
Releases Worldwide: December 13th, 2024#2024 #35 #Alkaloid #AmericanMetal #ArtificialBrain #AtraeBilis #Atvm #Augury #DeathMetal #Dec24 #Incantation #Misanthropy #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheEverCrushingWeightOfStagnance #TranscendingObscurityRecords #Veilburner
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Misanthropy – The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance Review
By Kenstrosity
Apparently, Chicago progressive tech death quartet Misanthropy used to play thrash metal. Once I learned of this shift, it felt like I could suddenly hear a thrashy thread running through their newest release, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance. Having no prior experience with Misanthropy’s back catalog, I walked into their third record with an open mind, ready and willing to be probed by the wild and the wacky. Sometimes, unexpected changes make for unexpected pleasures.
You’d be forgiven for mistakenly clocking Misanthropy as boilerplate tech death based solely on outward appearances. You’d nonetheless be incorrect. For the longest time, I struggled to nail down exactly what amalgamation of sounds and styles Misanthropy represented. But then I started writing this piece and it hit me. Imagine a dirtier Augury fed through an Atrae Bilis filter and finished with a proggy Atvm glaze, and you have a roughly accurate blueprint of what to expect from current Misanthropy. Twisting, gnarled compositions, motivated by Paul’s multifaceted kitwork, mesh and morph against guitarists Kevin’s and Jose Valles’ unending cavalcade of mind-shredding riffs. Mark’s burbling bass and vicious vox form both the throbbing underbelly and the piercing voice of the record, propelling The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance through its forty-five-minute tale with gusto and gravity. In totality, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance represents a fierce and furious affair. Yet, countless stops and swaps between blistering grooves, manic freakouts, mind-melting churns, and ground-shaking stomps leave me mostly rapt throughout.
Highlighting standout moments on The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance proves a challenge, as Misanthropy penned so many killer passages into these seven songs that it’s hard to pick favorites. Even so, massive pit-opening grooves and slithering riffs elevate thrashier songs like “The All-Devouring” to the top of the pile. An eerie, waltzing dalliance with jazz rhythms allows opener “Of Sulking and the Wrathful” to shine in its back half as well, showcasing Misanthropy’s knack for oddball transitions that work deceivingly well in the context of their chosen style. At first I struggled to appreciate “Condemned to a Nameless Tomb” and “Descent” for their unorthodox combination of Veilburner stream-of-consciousness writing and Artificial Brain shimmer, but with time I grew to appreciate their place in the lineup as the next-door-neighbor monstrosities that they are. Unafraid to get down and dirty, “Sepulcher” offers just the right amount of funky Alkaloid intelligence to offset filthy Incantation tones and harmonized riffing, expertly juggling straightforward and slimy with weird and wretched.
Impressive though it is that Misanthropy managed to cover so much stylistic ground without sullying their unique new character, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance remains a touch disjointed as a whole. Tonally, Misanthropy play fearlessly with rough-hewn textures inside a more clinical environment, but there are moments of mild uncanny valley associated with that experiment, as certain elements of Misanthropy’s flexible sound clash rather than coalesce (“A Cure for the Pestilence”). Misanthropy’s willingness and ability to throw everything but the kitchen sink at their compositions without totally destabilizing everything deserves great respect, but it sometimes comes at the cost of fluidity and cohesion (“Consumed by the Abyss”). This, therefore, makes certain sections of The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance somewhat difficult to listen to casually, as I often lose details or miss quality segments when not listening intently. Additionally, the occasional abrupt switch between unexpected change-ups make already lengthy tracks (most soar past the six minute mark) feel even lengthier.
Thankfully, listening intently is quite literally my job here, and I spend lots of time with my charges. Consequently, I can assure you that The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance represents yet another killer in Transcending Obscurity’s lineup of crazy beasts. It may not be everyone’s favorite creature, but if you aren’t careful, it’s liable to sink its teeth into your flesh and rend it from the bone regardless. Some, if not most, of you would probably love that, I’m sure. If so, Misanthropy’s third unleashment is a fine selection for your sick kicks.
Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: misanthropychicago.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/MisanthropyChicago
Releases Worldwide: December 13th, 2024#2024 #35 #Alkaloid #AmericanMetal #ArtificialBrain #AtraeBilis #Atvm #Augury #DeathMetal #Dec24 #Incantation #Misanthropy #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheEverCrushingWeightOfStagnance #TranscendingObscurityRecords #Veilburner
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Misanthropy – The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance Review
By Kenstrosity
Apparently, Chicago progressive tech death quartet Misanthropy used to play thrash metal. Once I learned of this shift, it felt like I could suddenly hear a thrashy thread running through their newest release, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance. Having no prior experience with Misanthropy’s back catalog, I walked into their third record with an open mind, ready and willing to be probed by the wild and the wacky. Sometimes, unexpected changes make for unexpected pleasures.
You’d be forgiven for mistakenly clocking Misanthropy as boilerplate tech death based solely on outward appearances. You’d nonetheless be incorrect. For the longest time, I struggled to nail down exactly what amalgamation of sounds and styles Misanthropy represented. But then I started writing this piece and it hit me. Imagine a dirtier Augury fed through an Atrae Bilis filter and finished with a proggy Atvm glaze, and you have a roughly accurate blueprint of what to expect from current Misanthropy. Twisting, gnarled compositions, motivated by Paul’s multifaceted kitwork, mesh and morph against guitarists Kevin’s and Jose Valles’ unending cavalcade of mind-shredding riffs. Mark’s burbling bass and vicious vox form both the throbbing underbelly and the piercing voice of the record, propelling The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance through its forty-five-minute tale with gusto and gravity. In totality, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance represents a fierce and furious affair. Yet, countless stops and swaps between blistering grooves, manic freakouts, mind-melting churns, and ground-shaking stomps leave me mostly rapt throughout.
Highlighting standout moments on The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance proves a challenge, as Misanthropy penned so many killer passages into these seven songs that it’s hard to pick favorites. Even so, massive pit-opening grooves and slithering riffs elevate thrashier songs like “The All-Devouring” to the top of the pile. An eerie, waltzing dalliance with jazz rhythms allows opener “Of Sulking and the Wrathful” to shine in its back half as well, showcasing Misanthropy’s knack for oddball transitions that work deceivingly well in the context of their chosen style. At first I struggled to appreciate “Condemned to a Nameless Tomb” and “Descent” for their unorthodox combination of Veilburner stream-of-consciousness writing and Artificial Brain shimmer, but with time I grew to appreciate their place in the lineup as the next-door-neighbor monstrosities that they are. Unafraid to get down and dirty, “Sepulcher” offers just the right amount of funky Alkaloid intelligence to offset filthy Incantation tones and harmonized riffing, expertly juggling straightforward and slimy with weird and wretched.
Impressive though it is that Misanthropy managed to cover so much stylistic ground without sullying their unique new character, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance remains a touch disjointed as a whole. Tonally, Misanthropy play fearlessly with rough-hewn textures inside a more clinical environment, but there are moments of mild uncanny valley associated with that experiment, as certain elements of Misanthropy’s flexible sound clash rather than coalesce (“A Cure for the Pestilence”). Misanthropy’s willingness and ability to throw everything but the kitchen sink at their compositions without totally destabilizing everything deserves great respect, but it sometimes comes at the cost of fluidity and cohesion (“Consumed by the Abyss”). This, therefore, makes certain sections of The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance somewhat difficult to listen to casually, as I often lose details or miss quality segments when not listening intently. Additionally, the occasional abrupt switch between unexpected change-ups make already lengthy tracks (most soar past the six minute mark) feel even lengthier.
Thankfully, listening intently is quite literally my job here, and I spend lots of time with my charges. Consequently, I can assure you that The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance represents yet another killer in Transcending Obscurity’s lineup of crazy beasts. It may not be everyone’s favorite creature, but if you aren’t careful, it’s liable to sink its teeth into your flesh and rend it from the bone regardless. Some, if not most, of you would probably love that, I’m sure. If so, Misanthropy’s third unleashment is a fine selection for your sick kicks.
Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: misanthropychicago.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/MisanthropyChicago
Releases Worldwide: December 13th, 2024#2024 #35 #Alkaloid #AmericanMetal #ArtificialBrain #AtraeBilis #Atvm #Augury #DeathMetal #Dec24 #Incantation #Misanthropy #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheEverCrushingWeightOfStagnance #TranscendingObscurityRecords #Veilburner
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By Angry Metal Guy
In celebration of the existence of Opeth, El Cuervo and I continue our rankings of Opeth from worst to best. You can find the previous rankings here: 13-9. And you can find the review of The Last Will and Testament here.
Happy complaining!
Angry Metal Guy
Mediopeth cont.
#8. Orchid (1995). Oldepeth gets far too little respect around here. And even I feel guilty dropping Orchid in at number 8. But for me, Orchid has long been the ‘forgotten’ album. My first exposure to Opeth was Morningrise, which I still consider the start of the band’s truly dominant, scene-defying (and scene-defining) run of perfect albums. But while it was the first one I purchased, their most recent record was My Arms, Your Hearse, which then was quickly followed by Still Life and Blackwater Park. While I was cutting my teeth on the ’90s Scandy scene, I didn’t have time to look backward. There was so much exciting music coming out and I was reveling in what I had in my hands. Yet, over time I have come to appreciate Orchid’s charm. The record is chock full of ideas and you can see the ways that Opeth becomes Opeth through moments: the use of volume swells in “In Mist She Was Standing,” which would eventually transform into Peter Lindgren’s eBow by Still Life and Blackwater Park. The moody, harmonized acoustic passages sounded a lot more like Metallica than the fingerstyle that Åkerfeldt would come to be known for by My Arms, Your Hearse. Even the use of nylon string acoustic guitars throughout is a charming feature of Opeth’s sound in 1995. The result is a kind of Protopeth that stands as a testament to sticking to your guns and just making the music you want to hear. And every song on here is a banger. Opeth is one of those bands where the debut stands up well, even if it isn’t entirely representative of the juggernaut they would become.
#7. Damnation (2003). Damnation is a brilliant album; a tour de force of sadprog. The songs boiled down the essence of the Opethian acoustic prog into a rich depression-flavored paste (with umami overtones). It’s almost impossible to pick the most iconic moment from Damnation, is it the introduction of the keys for the first time? Is it López’s deft, groovy performance? Is it “Closure”?1 Or maybe it’s Åkerfeldt dropping the best acoustic material he’d written to date? Working with Steven Wilson on this record was the right choice as he was able to get the best out of the band, while offering vocal harmonies and even lyrics. And as a defining Opeth album, Damnation trafficked in exquisite morosity from the opening guitar on “Windowpane” to the “Ending Credits” and beyond. That said, Damnation lacked the thing that made Opeth unique; its upper range. Deliverance, which was the weakest heavy record to date, was always marred by having the least interesting clean parts. And it’s hard not to blame the strong twin that got all the good genes, or in this case, Damnation. A track like “Closure” is just begging for another 8 minutes of Åkerriffs and growls. Damnation also exposed Opeth lyrically,2 I’m struck every time I listen to Damnation just how diaphanous and hollow these lyrics are.3 But that doesn’t stop me from belting them out while I’m writing this blurb. In its totality, Damnation is an excellent record from a band that wasn’t even firing on all cylinders at the time. Every song gives me the feelz, and it showed the world what Opeth could be without its death metal side—purveyors of excellent sadprog.
#6. Pale Communion (2014). Pale Communion is the album that Heritage should have been. While Heritage may have been the album Åkerfeldt wanted to write after years of playing music he didn’t really want to be playing anymore—an album constructed “of interesting but perverse musical ideas deliberately directed at fans expecting more death metal” to quote El Cuervo‘s excellent summation—Pale Communion felt like Opeth. Sure, it was an undeniable homage to the brilliant ’70s prog that Åkerfeldt loves (“River,” or “Goblin”). But Pale Communion is different from the other records in the Newpeth era in that it feels very much like an extension of Ghost Reveries. With classic Opeth riffing and eBow (“Cusp of Eternity,” “Moon Above, Moon Below”), the album felt like the perfect blend of classic Opeth and the more ’70s rock and prog vibe they were going for. There are two other reasons why Pale Communion is a triumph. First, the composition—the voice of Opeth—is on par with anything Åkefeldt had written to date. The re-emergence of beautiful, thoughtful transitions was notable, of course, and it made Pale Communion feel like an album that had real love and care taken with the writing process. Second, Pale Communion is the best-sounding Opeth album ever produced. Clocking in at a DR11 and with a pristine mix by Steven Wilson, Pale Communion is the kind of album that is just a pleasure to listen to. My one niggling complaint is that sometimes when the band crescendos into Åkerfeldt belting monotone melodies over heavy riffs, I think: “Why not just growl there?”
Perfectopeth
#5. My Arms, Your Hearse (1998). My Arms, Your Hearse marks the start of Opeth’s iconic lineup and sound. With the introduction of López on drums—fresh off his stint in Amon Amarth—this record was recorded with Fredrik Nordström with Åkerfeldt playing bass because Méndez didn’t have time to learn the songs. Unique in the band’s discography, My Arms, Your Hearse was the first proper concept album they recorded. Åkerfeldt started this record by writing lyrics and he composed the songs around them, with the last line of each song being the title of the next song. The result was a tight and cohesive album that felt revolutionary for their sound at the time. While Morningrise and Orchid had a meandering and acoustic feel—a naturalness if you will—My Arms, Your Hearse leaned more into a slicker production. It’s notable how much atmosphere reverb on Åkerfeldt’s more compressed vocals gave My Arms, Your Hearse its most polished sound to date, and Nordström’s production choices define the album in ways that people underestimate. But the shorter songs, the tighter lyrics, and the overall vibe made for an album that properly consumed is heard with headphones and listening to it from start to finish.
Going back and revisiting these records in order, My Arms, Your Hearse also shows real evolution in terms of Mikael’s fingerpicking work (“The Amen Corner”), and his compositional habit of falling into a pleasant 6/8 swing (like the outro to “Demon of the Fall,” and “Credence” which follows). That 6/8 swing is Opeth’s gallop, and it is the key to Still Life and Blackwater Park’s iconic sound. And though it should be consumed as a whole, I vociferously contest the idea that My Arms, Your Hearse is somehow a letdown or packed with filler. Tracks like “When,” “Demon of the Fall,” “Credence,” “The Amen Corner,” and honestly I could just list the entire album here, are classics that I would love to hear live. This record is one of the best records I own and it is somehow my fifth favorite album in Opeth’s discography.
#4. Still Life (1999). Loads of ink have been spilled over the reason that we should all like Still Life better than other Opeth albums—particularly Blackwater Park. Those who know me might think that it’s one of the reasons that I—a rugged individual and the figurehead of my eponymous blog—buck the revisionist historians by placing it at #4. But, those who know me would be wrong. I first learned of Still Life’s existence because I was one of the lucky people who got to see Opeth play their first show in the USA.4 The boyish Swedes played Milwaukee Metalfest in August of 2000—making those who saw it less lucky because we paid to be at Milwaukee Metalfest—and despite the logistical nightmare due to the infamous cheapness of the skeezy arranger, Opeth played an unforgettable set. Mikael started that set by saying “We’re going to start by playing a song from our new record which many of you don’t have,” before kicking off with “Moonlapse Vertigo.” In 1999 and 2000—for the babies whose first record was Watershed and are very upset that I didn’t make it #1 even though it has two good songs and they really really really like it!1!—one did not just get albums that weren’t released in the USA without luck and huge fees. I even asked at my local record store after Metalfest—who really were good at getting me obscure stuff—and they couldn’t find a copy of it. It would take another six months for Still Life to be released in the USA. This means that Blackwater Park, which was released on March 12th, 2001, was released exactly two weeks after Still Life and to much more fanfare. So, as an 18-year-old who kept up with metal releases via the Unholy Metal Usenet group, I purchased Blackwater Park and never realized that Still Life had been released.
It would be a couple of years before I made it back to Still Life. And my journey back started with hearing “Godhead’s Lament” live. That sent me on to a six-month binge where I listened to nothing but Still Life. The album had everything that I loved about Blackwater Park but was slightly rawer in its sound. It contained some of the best riffs that I had ever heard and I found myself learning and aping those unique Åkerriffs in my composition. But despite its excellence—its perfection, really—Blackwater Park had been the kind of revelation for me (and I’d wager many other American fans) that Still Life could never end up being. It’s hard to argue, however, that Still Life is anything other than enormous and that it probably should have been the album that broke them in the US. The band continued to develop its acoustic chops, Åkerfeldt’s writing continued to tighten, and the mournful melodies that were so key to their sound at the time were perfectly united with the slick Nordström production and those undeniable riffs. In retrospect, this is also where someone finally cracked the nut of how to produce Åkerfeldt’s growls, which I think are still some of the best in death metal. This album is a triumph and there are still three to go.
El Cuervo
#8. Watershed (2008). Watershed divides the ‘excellent’ and the ‘slightly-less-excellent-but-still-very-good’ on this ranking. While Watershed enjoys incredible high moments, it also demonstrates the first point at which I noticed unwieldy songwriting in the Opeth discography. The songs are varied but the transitions are stark,5 resulting in a release that noticeably and bluntly chops and changes. Despite its accomplished compositions and exemplary instrumental performance, the flow of the album is more jagged than anything. Yet the unexpected, off-kilter interludes paired with some brutally heavy passages super-charge these songs into some of the most head-turning, arresting music in the band’s career. And though he may have been best known for a brief stint in Arch Enemy, the deft hand of Fredrik Åkesson proved an excellent addition to the band’s roster; he sounds bold and technical in a way that wasn’t apparent previously. It may not all hang together perfectly but it’s hard to ignore Opeth on Watershed.
#7. Orchid (1995). To be a fly on the wall with a group of teenagers in a Stockholm suburb, deciding to embark on an extreme metal journey for which Scandinavia was becoming renowned. The difference for these teens was that they wanted to fuse progressive rock and acoustic guitars into that. While fusing death metal with ’70s prog may be commonplace now, it certainly wasn’t then, and Orchid is a landmark release for this reason. It’s just as raw and unrefined as you would expect. Åkerfeldt’s growls have a jagged edge, the guitars saw in the Swedeath style, and the overall mix has the bass-light, lo-fi buzz of the then-recent Norwegian wave of black metal. Despite the nascent nature of Opeth, Orchid was far better than it had any right to be. While unrefined by their own standards, some bands never achieve the sophistication of what’s achieved across this unexpectedly beautiful death metal, packaged in remarkably robust production.
#6. Pale Communion (2014). If Heritage marks the last major fold in the Opeth discography—The Last Will & Testament pending—then Pale Communion is easily the best output of their modern era. In no small part, this flows from my bottomless well of love for ’70s prog rock. Pale Communion is, in some ways, the least inventive Opeth album given how strongly it draws from a specific scene at a specific point in history. You can hear a clear admiration of classic bands like Camel, Jethro Tull, and Goblin across the warm production, mellotrons, and bluesy guitars. Nonetheless, the clearest influence remains Opeth themselves. If this album was the natural culmination of Åkerfeldt’s desire to convey how much he liked a specific sub-genre then I’m happy that he was able to do so in a way that sounds completely himself too. While it may not be the most daring of Opeth’s releases, Pale Communion succeeds because it orients around one key quality: lush, exciting songs.
#5. Damnation (2003). Faced with the impossible task of a label that wanted them to reproduce Blackwater Park but a muse leading them down a lighter path, Opeth made the bold decision to record and release Damnation as an album twinned with Deliverance. While Deliverance is ultimately my favorite of the two, Damnation has a raw potency that indicates a deep emotional investment on the part of the band. Stripping back the heavily distorted guitars and growled vocals exposes an exquisitely despondent album of lilting rhythms and gentle acoustic melodies. Its emotion is palpable, expressing pure isolation and sorrow. While the astute listener might have predicted a soft Opeth album, it was the first (and the better) of two sudden stylistic shifts in their career and demonstrated that they were not satisfied to rest on their laurels following a couple of progressive metal’s most treasured releases. It was high risk but high reward.
#4. Blackwater Park (2001). A victim of its own success, I find myself pushing Blackwater Park down despite its wide acclaim as the pinnacle of Opeth’s career. While it would be easy to attribute this to my insatiable contrarianism, it’s not this. This album is everything from the Opeth sound until 2001 boiled down to a delicious, smooth compote. It finds the optimal blend of dark and light in its sound, fusing delicate acoustic prettiness with brutal, riffing heaviness. Its longest songs are real stand-outs, with excellent leads, flawless compositions, and jaw-dropping transitions. And yet I find it wanting. Everything before Blackwater Park still had the raw edge of ’90s death metal, conferring on them a savage bite, while everything after saw the band beginning to experiment more widely; from Damnation’s dramatic shift away from metal to Ghost Reveries’ jazzier keyboards. Blackwater Park is the natural climax to that point but I find it too predictable as a result. And yet the power of Opeth means it’s still an El Cuervo 4.5 and one of the jewels in metal’s crown.
#1998 #1999 #2001 #2003 #2008 #2014 #BlackwaterPark #Camel #Damnation #MAYH #Metallica #MyArmsYourHearse #Nov24 #Opeth #Orchid #PaleCommunion #StillLife #TheLastWillAndTestament #Watershed
-
By Angry Metal Guy
In celebration of the existence of Opeth, El Cuervo and I continue our rankings of Opeth from worst to best. You can find the previous rankings here: 13-9. And you can find the review of The Last Will and Testament here.
Happy complaining!
Angry Metal Guy
Mediopeth cont.
#8. Orchid (1995). Oldepeth gets far too little respect around here. And even I feel guilty dropping Orchid in at number 8. But for me, Orchid has long been the ‘forgotten’ album. My first exposure to Opeth was Morningrise, which I still consider the start of the band’s truly dominant, scene-defying (and scene-defining) run of perfect albums. But while it was the first one I purchased, their most recent record was My Arms, Your Hearse, which then was quickly followed by Still Life and Blackwater Park. While I was cutting my teeth on the ’90s Scandy scene, I didn’t have time to look backward. There was so much exciting music coming out and I was reveling in what I had in my hands. Yet, over time I have come to appreciate Orchid’s charm. The record is chock full of ideas and you can see the ways that Opeth becomes Opeth through moments: the use of volume swells in “In Mist She Was Standing,” which would eventually transform into Peter Lindgren’s eBow by Still Life and Blackwater Park. The moody, harmonized acoustic passages sounded a lot more like Metallica than the fingerstyle that Åkerfeldt would come to be known for by My Arms, Your Hearse. Even the use of nylon string acoustic guitars throughout is a charming feature of Opeth’s sound in 1995. The result is a kind of Protopeth that stands as a testament to sticking to your guns and just making the music you want to hear. And every song on here is a banger. Opeth is one of those bands where the debut stands up well, even if it isn’t entirely representative of the juggernaut they would become.
#7. Damnation (2003). Damnation is a brilliant album; a tour de force of sadprog. The songs boiled down the essence of the Opethian acoustic prog into a rich depression-flavored paste (with umami overtones). It’s almost impossible to pick the most iconic moment from Damnation, is it the introduction of the keys for the first time? Is it López’s deft, groovy performance? Is it “Closure”?1 Or maybe it’s Åkerfeldt dropping the best acoustic material he’d written to date? Working with Steven Wilson on this record was the right choice as he was able to get the best out of the band, while offering vocal harmonies and even lyrics. And as a defining Opeth album, Damnation trafficked in exquisite morosity from the opening guitar on “Windowpane” to the “Ending Credits” and beyond. That said, Damnation lacked the thing that made Opeth unique; its upper range. Deliverance, which was the weakest heavy record to date, was always marred by having the least interesting clean parts. And it’s hard not to blame the strong twin that got all the good genes, or in this case, Damnation. A track like “Closure” is just begging for another 8 minutes of Åkerriffs and growls. Damnation also exposed Opeth lyrically,2 I’m struck every time I listen to Damnation just how diaphanous and hollow these lyrics are.3 But that doesn’t stop me from belting them out while I’m writing this blurb. In its totality, Damnation is an excellent record from a band that wasn’t even firing on all cylinders at the time. Every song gives me the feelz, and it showed the world what Opeth could be without its death metal side—purveyors of excellent sadprog.
#6. Pale Communion (2014). Pale Communion is the album that Heritage should have been. While Heritage may have been the album Åkerfeldt wanted to write after years of playing music he didn’t really want to be playing anymore—an album constructed “of interesting but perverse musical ideas deliberately directed at fans expecting more death metal” to quote El Cuervo‘s excellent summation—Pale Communion felt like Opeth. Sure, it was an undeniable homage to the brilliant ’70s prog that Åkerfeldt loves (“River,” or “Goblin”). But Pale Communion is different from the other records in the Newpeth era in that it feels very much like an extension of Ghost Reveries. With classic Opeth riffing and eBow (“Cusp of Eternity,” “Moon Above, Moon Below”), the album felt like the perfect blend of classic Opeth and the more ’70s rock and prog vibe they were going for. There are two other reasons why Pale Communion is a triumph. First, the composition—the voice of Opeth—is on par with anything Åkefeldt had written to date. The re-emergence of beautiful, thoughtful transitions was notable, of course, and it made Pale Communion feel like an album that had real love and care taken with the writing process. Second, Pale Communion is the best-sounding Opeth album ever produced. Clocking in at a DR11 and with a pristine mix by Steven Wilson, Pale Communion is the kind of album that is just a pleasure to listen to. My one niggling complaint is that sometimes when the band crescendos into Åkerfeldt belting monotone melodies over heavy riffs, I think: “Why not just growl there?”
Perfectopeth
#5. My Arms, Your Hearse (1998). My Arms, Your Hearse marks the start of Opeth’s iconic lineup and sound. With the introduction of López on drums—fresh off his stint in Amon Amarth—this record was recorded with Fredrik Nordström with Åkerfeldt playing bass because Méndez didn’t have time to learn the songs. Unique in the band’s discography, My Arms, Your Hearse was the first proper concept album they recorded. Åkerfeldt started this record by writing lyrics and he composed the songs around them, with the last line of each song being the title of the next song. The result was a tight and cohesive album that felt revolutionary for their sound at the time. While Morningrise and Orchid had a meandering and acoustic feel—a naturalness if you will—My Arms, Your Hearse leaned more into a slicker production. It’s notable how much atmosphere reverb on Åkerfeldt’s more compressed vocals gave My Arms, Your Hearse its most polished sound to date, and Nordström’s production choices define the album in ways that people underestimate. But the shorter songs, the tighter lyrics, and the overall vibe made for an album that properly consumed is heard with headphones and listening to it from start to finish.
Going back and revisiting these records in order, My Arms, Your Hearse also shows real evolution in terms of Mikael’s fingerpicking work (“The Amen Corner”), and his compositional habit of falling into a pleasant 6/8 swing (like the outro to “Demon of the Fall,” and “Credence” which follows). That 6/8 swing is Opeth’s gallop, and it is the key to Still Life and Blackwater Park’s iconic sound. And though it should be consumed as a whole, I vociferously contest the idea that My Arms, Your Hearse is somehow a letdown or packed with filler. Tracks like “When,” “Demon of the Fall,” “Credence,” “The Amen Corner,” and honestly I could just list the entire album here, are classics that I would love to hear live. This record is one of the best records I own and it is somehow my fifth favorite album in Opeth’s discography.
#4. Still Life (1999). Loads of ink have been spilled over the reason that we should all like Still Life better than other Opeth albums—particularly Blackwater Park. Those who know me might think that it’s one of the reasons that I—a rugged individual and the figurehead of my eponymous blog—buck the revisionist historians by placing it at #4. But, those who know me would be wrong. I first learned of Still Life’s existence because I was one of the lucky people who got to see Opeth play their first show in the USA.4 The boyish Swedes played Milwaukee Metalfest in August of 2000—making those who saw it less lucky because we paid to be at Milwaukee Metalfest—and despite the logistical nightmare due to the infamous cheapness of the skeezy arranger, Opeth played an unforgettable set. Mikael started that set by saying “We’re going to start by playing a song from our new record which many of you don’t have,” before kicking off with “Moonlapse Vertigo.” In 1999 and 2000—for the babies whose first record was Watershed and are very upset that I didn’t make it #1 even though it has two good songs and they really really really like it!1!—one did not just get albums that weren’t released in the USA without luck and huge fees. I even asked at my local record store after Metalfest—who really were good at getting me obscure stuff—and they couldn’t find a copy of it. It would take another six months for Still Life to be released in the USA. This means that Blackwater Park, which was released on March 12th, 2001, was released exactly two weeks after Still Life and to much more fanfare. So, as an 18-year-old who kept up with metal releases via the Unholy Metal Usenet group, I purchased Blackwater Park and never realized that Still Life had been released.
It would be a couple of years before I made it back to Still Life. And my journey back started with hearing “Godhead’s Lament” live. That sent me on to a six-month binge where I listened to nothing but Still Life. The album had everything that I loved about Blackwater Park but was slightly rawer in its sound. It contained some of the best riffs that I had ever heard and I found myself learning and aping those unique Åkerriffs in my composition. But despite its excellence—its perfection, really—Blackwater Park had been the kind of revelation for me (and I’d wager many other American fans) that Still Life could never end up being. It’s hard to argue, however, that Still Life is anything other than enormous and that it probably should have been the album that broke them in the US. The band continued to develop its acoustic chops, Åkerfeldt’s writing continued to tighten, and the mournful melodies that were so key to their sound at the time were perfectly united with the slick Nordström production and those undeniable riffs. In retrospect, this is also where someone finally cracked the nut of how to produce Åkerfeldt’s growls, which I think are still some of the best in death metal. This album is a triumph and there are still three to go.
El Cuervo
#8. Watershed (2008). Watershed divides the ‘excellent’ and the ‘slightly-less-excellent-but-still-very-good’ on this ranking. While Watershed enjoys incredible high moments, it also demonstrates the first point at which I noticed unwieldy songwriting in the Opeth discography. The songs are varied but the transitions are stark,5 resulting in a release that noticeably and bluntly chops and changes. Despite its accomplished compositions and exemplary instrumental performance, the flow of the album is more jagged than anything. Yet the unexpected, off-kilter interludes paired with some brutally heavy passages super-charge these songs into some of the most head-turning, arresting music in the band’s career. And though he may have been best known for a brief stint in Arch Enemy, the deft hand of Fredrik Åkesson proved an excellent addition to the band’s roster; he sounds bold and technical in a way that wasn’t apparent previously. It may not all hang together perfectly but it’s hard to ignore Opeth on Watershed.
#7. Orchid (1995). To be a fly on the wall with a group of teenagers in a Stockholm suburb, deciding to embark on an extreme metal journey for which Scandinavia was becoming renowned. The difference for these teens was that they wanted to fuse progressive rock and acoustic guitars into that. While fusing death metal with ’70s prog may be commonplace now, it certainly wasn’t then, and Orchid is a landmark release for this reason. It’s just as raw and unrefined as you would expect. Åkerfeldt’s growls have a jagged edge, the guitars saw in the Swedeath style, and the overall mix has the bass-light, lo-fi buzz of the then-recent Norwegian wave of black metal. Despite the nascent nature of Opeth, Orchid was far better than it had any right to be. While unrefined by their own standards, some bands never achieve the sophistication of what’s achieved across this unexpectedly beautiful death metal, packaged in remarkably robust production.
#6. Pale Communion (2014). If Heritage marks the last major fold in the Opeth discography—The Last Will & Testament pending—then Pale Communion is easily the best output of their modern era. In no small part, this flows from my bottomless well of love for ’70s prog rock. Pale Communion is, in some ways, the least inventive Opeth album given how strongly it draws from a specific scene at a specific point in history. You can hear a clear admiration of classic bands like Camel, Jethro Tull, and Goblin across the warm production, mellotrons, and bluesy guitars. Nonetheless, the clearest influence remains Opeth themselves. If this album was the natural culmination of Åkerfeldt’s desire to convey how much he liked a specific sub-genre then I’m happy that he was able to do so in a way that sounds completely himself too. While it may not be the most daring of Opeth’s releases, Pale Communion succeeds because it orients around one key quality: lush, exciting songs.
#5. Damnation (2003). Faced with the impossible task of a label that wanted them to reproduce Blackwater Park but a muse leading them down a lighter path, Opeth made the bold decision to record and release Damnation as an album twinned with Deliverance. While Deliverance is ultimately my favorite of the two, Damnation has a raw potency that indicates a deep emotional investment on the part of the band. Stripping back the heavily distorted guitars and growled vocals exposes an exquisitely despondent album of lilting rhythms and gentle acoustic melodies. Its emotion is palpable, expressing pure isolation and sorrow. While the astute listener might have predicted a soft Opeth album, it was the first (and the better) of two sudden stylistic shifts in their career and demonstrated that they were not satisfied to rest on their laurels following a couple of progressive metal’s most treasured releases. It was high risk but high reward.
#4. Blackwater Park (2001). A victim of its own success, I find myself pushing Blackwater Park down despite its wide acclaim as the pinnacle of Opeth’s career. While it would be easy to attribute this to my insatiable contrarianism, it’s not this. This album is everything from the Opeth sound until 2001 boiled down to a delicious, smooth compote. It finds the optimal blend of dark and light in its sound, fusing delicate acoustic prettiness with brutal, riffing heaviness. Its longest songs are real stand-outs, with excellent leads, flawless compositions, and jaw-dropping transitions. And yet I find it wanting. Everything before Blackwater Park still had the raw edge of ’90s death metal, conferring on them a savage bite, while everything after saw the band beginning to experiment more widely; from Damnation’s dramatic shift away from metal to Ghost Reveries’ jazzier keyboards. Blackwater Park is the natural climax to that point but I find it too predictable as a result. And yet the power of Opeth means it’s still an El Cuervo 4.5 and one of the jewels in metal’s crown.
#1998 #1999 #2001 #2003 #2008 #2014 #BlackwaterPark #Camel #Damnation #MAYH #Metallica #MyArmsYourHearse #Nov24 #Opeth #Orchid #PaleCommunion #StillLife #TheLastWillAndTestament #Watershed
-
By Angry Metal Guy
In celebration of the existence of Opeth, El Cuervo and I continue our rankings of Opeth from worst to best. You can find the previous rankings here: 13-9. And you can find the review of The Last Will and Testament here.
Happy complaining!
Angry Metal Guy
Mediopeth cont.
#8. Orchid (1995). Oldepeth gets far too little respect around here. And even I feel guilty dropping Orchid in at number 8. But for me, Orchid has long been the ‘forgotten’ album. My first exposure to Opeth was Morningrise, which I still consider the start of the band’s truly dominant, scene-defying (and scene-defining) run of perfect albums. But while it was the first one I purchased, their most recent record was My Arms, Your Hearse, which then was quickly followed by Still Life and Blackwater Park. While I was cutting my teeth on the ’90s Scandy scene, I didn’t have time to look backward. There was so much exciting music coming out and I was reveling in what I had in my hands. Yet, over time I have come to appreciate Orchid’s charm. The record is chock full of ideas and you can see the ways that Opeth becomes Opeth through moments: the use of volume swells in “In Mist She Was Standing,” which would eventually transform into Peter Lindgren’s eBow by Still Life and Blackwater Park. The moody, harmonized acoustic passages sounded a lot more like Metallica than the fingerstyle that Åkerfeldt would come to be known for by My Arms, Your Hearse. Even the use of nylon string acoustic guitars throughout is a charming feature of Opeth’s sound in 1995. The result is a kind of Protopeth that stands as a testament to sticking to your guns and just making the music you want to hear. And every song on here is a banger. Opeth is one of those bands where the debut stands up well, even if it isn’t entirely representative of the juggernaut they would become.
#7. Damnation (2003). Damnation is a brilliant album; a tour de force of sadprog. The songs boiled down the essence of the Opethian acoustic prog into a rich depression-flavored paste (with umami overtones). It’s almost impossible to pick the most iconic moment from Damnation, is it the introduction of the keys for the first time? Is it López’s deft, groovy performance? Is it “Closure”?1 Or maybe it’s Åkerfeldt dropping the best acoustic material he’d written to date? Working with Steven Wilson on this record was the right choice as he was able to get the best out of the band, while offering vocal harmonies and even lyrics. And as a defining Opeth album, Damnation trafficked in exquisite morosity from the opening guitar on “Windowpane” to the “Ending Credits” and beyond. That said, Damnation lacked the thing that made Opeth unique; its upper range. Deliverance, which was the weakest heavy record to date, was always marred by having the least interesting clean parts. And it’s hard not to blame the strong twin that got all the good genes, or in this case, Damnation. A track like “Closure” is just begging for another 8 minutes of Åkerriffs and growls. Damnation also exposed Opeth lyrically,2 I’m struck every time I listen to Damnation just how diaphanous and hollow these lyrics are.3 But that doesn’t stop me from belting them out while I’m writing this blurb. In its totality, Damnation is an excellent record from a band that wasn’t even firing on all cylinders at the time. Every song gives me the feelz, and it showed the world what Opeth could be without its death metal side—purveyors of excellent sadprog.
#6. Pale Communion (2014). Pale Communion is the album that Heritage should have been. While Heritage may have been the album Åkerfeldt wanted to write after years of playing music he didn’t really want to be playing anymore—an album constructed “of interesting but perverse musical ideas deliberately directed at fans expecting more death metal” to quote El Cuervo‘s excellent summation—Pale Communion felt like Opeth. Sure, it was an undeniable homage to the brilliant ’70s prog that Åkerfeldt loves (“River,” or “Goblin”). But Pale Communion is different from the other records in the Newpeth era in that it feels very much like an extension of Ghost Reveries. With classic Opeth riffing and eBow (“Cusp of Eternity,” “Moon Above, Moon Below”), the album felt like the perfect blend of classic Opeth and the more ’70s rock and prog vibe they were going for. There are two other reasons why Pale Communion is a triumph. First, the composition—the voice of Opeth—is on par with anything Åkefeldt had written to date. The re-emergence of beautiful, thoughtful transitions was notable, of course, and it made Pale Communion feel like an album that had real love and care taken with the writing process. Second, Pale Communion is the best-sounding Opeth album ever produced. Clocking in at a DR11 and with a pristine mix by Steven Wilson, Pale Communion is the kind of album that is just a pleasure to listen to. My one niggling complaint is that sometimes when the band crescendos into Åkerfeldt belting monotone melodies over heavy riffs, I think: “Why not just growl there?”
Perfectopeth
#5. My Arms, Your Hearse (1998). My Arms, Your Hearse marks the start of Opeth’s iconic lineup and sound. With the introduction of López on drums—fresh off his stint in Amon Amarth—this record was recorded with Fredrik Nordström with Åkerfeldt playing bass because Méndez didn’t have time to learn the songs. Unique in the band’s discography, My Arms, Your Hearse was the first proper concept album they recorded. Åkerfeldt started this record by writing lyrics and he composed the songs around them, with the last line of each song being the title of the next song. The result was a tight and cohesive album that felt revolutionary for their sound at the time. While Morningrise and Orchid had a meandering and acoustic feel—a naturalness if you will—My Arms, Your Hearse leaned more into a slicker production. It’s notable how much atmosphere reverb on Åkerfeldt’s more compressed vocals gave My Arms, Your Hearse its most polished sound to date, and Nordström’s production choices define the album in ways that people underestimate. But the shorter songs, the tighter lyrics, and the overall vibe made for an album that properly consumed is heard with headphones and listening to it from start to finish.
Going back and revisiting these records in order, My Arms, Your Hearse also shows real evolution in terms of Mikael’s fingerpicking work (“The Amen Corner”), and his compositional habit of falling into a pleasant 6/8 swing (like the outro to “Demon of the Fall,” and “Credence” which follows). That 6/8 swing is Opeth’s gallop, and it is the key to Still Life and Blackwater Park’s iconic sound. And though it should be consumed as a whole, I vociferously contest the idea that My Arms, Your Hearse is somehow a letdown or packed with filler. Tracks like “When,” “Demon of the Fall,” “Credence,” “The Amen Corner,” and honestly I could just list the entire album here, are classics that I would love to hear live. This record is one of the best records I own and it is somehow my fifth favorite album in Opeth’s discography.
#4. Still Life (1999). Loads of ink have been spilled over the reason that we should all like Still Life better than other Opeth albums—particularly Blackwater Park. Those who know me might think that it’s one of the reasons that I—a rugged individual and the figurehead of my eponymous blog—buck the revisionist historians by placing it at #4. But, those who know me would be wrong. I first learned of Still Life’s existence because I was one of the lucky people who got to see Opeth play their first show in the USA.4 The boyish Swedes played Milwaukee Metalfest in August of 2000—making those who saw it less lucky because we paid to be at Milwaukee Metalfest—and despite the logistical nightmare due to the infamous cheapness of the skeezy arranger, Opeth played an unforgettable set. Mikael started that set by saying “We’re going to start by playing a song from our new record which many of you don’t have,” before kicking off with “Moonlapse Vertigo.” In 1999 and 2000—for the babies whose first record was Watershed and are very upset that I didn’t make it #1 even though it has two good songs and they really really really like it!1!—one did not just get albums that weren’t released in the USA without luck and huge fees. I even asked at my local record store after Metalfest—who really were good at getting me obscure stuff—and they couldn’t find a copy of it. It would take another six months for Still Life to be released in the USA. This means that Blackwater Park, which was released on March 12th, 2001, was released exactly two weeks after Still Life and to much more fanfare. So, as an 18-year-old who kept up with metal releases via the Unholy Metal Usenet group, I purchased Blackwater Park and never realized that Still Life had been released.
It would be a couple of years before I made it back to Still Life. And my journey back started with hearing “Godhead’s Lament” live. That sent me on to a six-month binge where I listened to nothing but Still Life. The album had everything that I loved about Blackwater Park but was slightly rawer in its sound. It contained some of the best riffs that I had ever heard and I found myself learning and aping those unique Åkerriffs in my composition. But despite its excellence—its perfection, really—Blackwater Park had been the kind of revelation for me (and I’d wager many other American fans) that Still Life could never end up being. It’s hard to argue, however, that Still Life is anything other than enormous and that it probably should have been the album that broke them in the US. The band continued to develop its acoustic chops, Åkerfeldt’s writing continued to tighten, and the mournful melodies that were so key to their sound at the time were perfectly united with the slick Nordström production and those undeniable riffs. In retrospect, this is also where someone finally cracked the nut of how to produce Åkerfeldt’s growls, which I think are still some of the best in death metal. This album is a triumph and there are still three to go.
El Cuervo
#8. Watershed (2008). Watershed divides the ‘excellent’ and the ‘slightly-less-excellent-but-still-very-good’ on this ranking. While Watershed enjoys incredible high moments, it also demonstrates the first point at which I noticed unwieldy songwriting in the Opeth discography. The songs are varied but the transitions are stark,5 resulting in a release that noticeably and bluntly chops and changes. Despite its accomplished compositions and exemplary instrumental performance, the flow of the album is more jagged than anything. Yet the unexpected, off-kilter interludes paired with some brutally heavy passages super-charge these songs into some of the most head-turning, arresting music in the band’s career. And though he may have been best known for a brief stint in Arch Enemy, the deft hand of Fredrik Åkesson proved an excellent addition to the band’s roster; he sounds bold and technical in a way that wasn’t apparent previously. It may not all hang together perfectly but it’s hard to ignore Opeth on Watershed.
#7. Orchid (1995). To be a fly on the wall with a group of teenagers in a Stockholm suburb, deciding to embark on an extreme metal journey for which Scandinavia was becoming renowned. The difference for these teens was that they wanted to fuse progressive rock and acoustic guitars into that. While fusing death metal with ’70s prog may be commonplace now, it certainly wasn’t then, and Orchid is a landmark release for this reason. It’s just as raw and unrefined as you would expect. Åkerfeldt’s growls have a jagged edge, the guitars saw in the Swedeath style, and the overall mix has the bass-light, lo-fi buzz of the then-recent Norwegian wave of black metal. Despite the nascent nature of Opeth, Orchid was far better than it had any right to be. While unrefined by their own standards, some bands never achieve the sophistication of what’s achieved across this unexpectedly beautiful death metal, packaged in remarkably robust production.
#6. Pale Communion (2014). If Heritage marks the last major fold in the Opeth discography—The Last Will & Testament pending—then Pale Communion is easily the best output of their modern era. In no small part, this flows from my bottomless well of love for ’70s prog rock. Pale Communion is, in some ways, the least inventive Opeth album given how strongly it draws from a specific scene at a specific point in history. You can hear a clear admiration of classic bands like Camel, Jethro Tull, and Goblin across the warm production, mellotrons, and bluesy guitars. Nonetheless, the clearest influence remains Opeth themselves. If this album was the natural culmination of Åkerfeldt’s desire to convey how much he liked a specific sub-genre then I’m happy that he was able to do so in a way that sounds completely himself too. While it may not be the most daring of Opeth’s releases, Pale Communion succeeds because it orients around one key quality: lush, exciting songs.
#5. Damnation (2003). Faced with the impossible task of a label that wanted them to reproduce Blackwater Park but a muse leading them down a lighter path, Opeth made the bold decision to record and release Damnation as an album twinned with Deliverance. While Deliverance is ultimately my favorite of the two, Damnation has a raw potency that indicates a deep emotional investment on the part of the band. Stripping back the heavily distorted guitars and growled vocals exposes an exquisitely despondent album of lilting rhythms and gentle acoustic melodies. Its emotion is palpable, expressing pure isolation and sorrow. While the astute listener might have predicted a soft Opeth album, it was the first (and the better) of two sudden stylistic shifts in their career and demonstrated that they were not satisfied to rest on their laurels following a couple of progressive metal’s most treasured releases. It was high risk but high reward.
#4. Blackwater Park (2001). A victim of its own success, I find myself pushing Blackwater Park down despite its wide acclaim as the pinnacle of Opeth’s career. While it would be easy to attribute this to my insatiable contrarianism, it’s not this. This album is everything from the Opeth sound until 2001 boiled down to a delicious, smooth compote. It finds the optimal blend of dark and light in its sound, fusing delicate acoustic prettiness with brutal, riffing heaviness. Its longest songs are real stand-outs, with excellent leads, flawless compositions, and jaw-dropping transitions. And yet I find it wanting. Everything before Blackwater Park still had the raw edge of ’90s death metal, conferring on them a savage bite, while everything after saw the band beginning to experiment more widely; from Damnation’s dramatic shift away from metal to Ghost Reveries’ jazzier keyboards. Blackwater Park is the natural climax to that point but I find it too predictable as a result. And yet the power of Opeth means it’s still an El Cuervo 4.5 and one of the jewels in metal’s crown.
#1998 #1999 #2001 #2003 #2008 #2014 #BlackwaterPark #Camel #Damnation #MAYH #Metallica #MyArmsYourHearse #Nov24 #Opeth #Orchid #PaleCommunion #StillLife #TheLastWillAndTestament #Watershed
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Sleepless – Through Endless Black Review
By Dolphin Whisperer
Bands who seek to echo heavy metal’s past walk a fine line between regressive repetition and studied homage. Consequently, in a world where source material for these sounds spans the course of decades, the tag indicating this new wave of traditional heavy metal remains wide in scope. Motorcycles? Loin cloths? Swords and dragons? What shall the recipe of hairy-chested riffs and wailing mic blowouts spell? In examining Oregon-based Sleepless’ sophomore outing, Through Endless Black, it’s at least clear that two things are true: the power of riffs indeed compels this collection to rock, and an urgent vocal identity fills its chest proudly. But the question still looms around what brand of traditional showmanship Sleepless displays.
Whether Sleepless knows it or not, their sound on Through Endless Black plays close to the weird power-leaning doom of the ’90s Swedish underground in its manner of rockin’ trad riffs that swing to crawling, soaring choruses. We talk about a lot of things around the water cooler at Casa AMG1, and though many of us don’t see eye-to-eye on the world at large, at least the great Steel and I can agree on one thing: too many bands ignore the potential to copy peak Tad Morose. Determined to set my heart aflutter, melodic leads that drop into heavyweight drags scattered throughout Through Endless Black recalls both the slower cuts of Tad Morose or the more traditional gallop of the similar-minded Memory Garden. Main mind Kevin Hahn, holding chops both in the grip of a traditional axe and tastefully reverbed mic, has spent a lot of time both on the cover band circuit2 and at the engineer’s seat, so I’m not sure that exactly his aim with Sleepless. But different paths can always lead to similar results.
Except not every track across Through Endless Black reeks of that same stench of doomy power, with Hahn’s vocal prowess serving equally as blight and boon. Simple and fluffy rock riffs, the kind that present themselves in the AOR-assisted jams of cruise groove like Fifth Angel, already pull attention away from muscular crushes at the least effective moments (“Cult of the Narcissist,” “Lessons in Tongues”). And in these same gentler excursions, Hahn’s clear and breathy tenor aids further in distancing his performance from the subtle grit and chesty bellow that he displays in horn-raising, fist-pumping amp-shakers (“Consumed by Vengeance,” “Dreams of Mortal Ruin”). Hahn has amazing range, and an incredible ability to lay down harmonized solos in a big Scorpions way, but it really does feel like he’s packing too many contrasting ideas into Sleepless.
However, many of Sleepless’ ’80s and ’90s traditional genre worship excursions come across in a more flattering manner. The best cuts across Through Endless Black lead with refrains drenched in guitar drama, dark synth play, and full volume chord swells, all resolving in well-framed choruses (“Call to the Void,” “Where Fear Lives,” “Dreams…”). And slipping well into the sleaze and heavy metal fervor of the grand and gruff W.A.S.P., Hahn loads an extra venom and swagger into his barking verse work and sliding wails (“Exist Another Day,” “Transcending the Obsidian Throne”), even landing in a ripe pseudo-ballad cheese with the opening chime and croon of “Lost Star.” The supporting rhythm tones aren’t quite what one would expect in this lane, relying less on spacious chords and reverb, and more on compressed guitar crackle and a low-end lurch, but that at least helps pull Sleepless away from pure homage and into foraging a sound in reverence.
Despite the success that Sleepless finds throughout Through Endless Black, a certain lack of wildness—of rugged bravado—holds it back from turning its glory into grandiosity. Steeped in studied sounds, Sleepless never feels wanting in execution. Though some of that same polish leads Through Endless Black to engorge with a textbook battlefield vigor, that same educational approach does not lead to many surprises and allows the lesser sputters present to pull down the total experience. I do have high hopes for Sleepless though, as a sophomore cobbling of this quality shows, potential, promise, and perhaps a sword simply too deep in its sheath.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Warrior Records
Websites: sleeplessmetal.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/sleepless
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2024#25 #2024 #AmericanMetal #FifthAngel #HeavyMetal #MemoryGarden #Oct24 #ProgPower #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Scorpions #Sleepless #TadMorose #ThroughEndlessBlack #WASP_
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Sleepless – Through Endless Black Review
By Dolphin Whisperer
Bands who seek to echo heavy metal’s past walk a fine line between regressive repetition and studied homage. Consequently, in a world where source material for these sounds spans the course of decades, the tag indicating this new wave of traditional heavy metal remains wide in scope. Motorcycles? Loin cloths? Swords and dragons? What shall the recipe of hairy-chested riffs and wailing mic blowouts spell? In examining Oregon-based Sleepless’ sophomore outing, Through Endless Black, it’s at least clear that two things are true: the power of riffs indeed compels this collection to rock, and an urgent vocal identity fills its chest proudly. But the question still looms around what brand of traditional showmanship Sleepless displays.
Whether Sleepless knows it or not, their sound on Through Endless Black plays close to the weird power-leaning doom of the ’90s Swedish underground in its manner of rockin’ trad riffs that swing to crawling, soaring choruses. We talk about a lot of things around the water cooler at Casa AMG1, and though many of us don’t see eye-to-eye on the world at large, at least the great Steel and I can agree on one thing: too many bands ignore the potential to copy peak Tad Morose. Determined to set my heart aflutter, melodic leads that drop into heavyweight drags scattered throughout Through Endless Black recalls both the slower cuts of Tad Morose or the more traditional gallop of the similar-minded Memory Garden. Main mind Kevin Hahn, holding chops both in the grip of a traditional axe and tastefully reverbed mic, has spent a lot of time both on the cover band circuit2 and at the engineer’s seat, so I’m not sure that exactly his aim with Sleepless. But different paths can always lead to similar results.
Except not every track across Through Endless Black reeks of that same stench of doomy power, with Hahn’s vocal prowess serving equally as blight and boon. Simple and fluffy rock riffs, the kind that present themselves in the AOR-assisted jams of cruise groove like Fifth Angel, already pull attention away from muscular crushes at the least effective moments (“Cult of the Narcissist,” “Lessons in Tongues”). And in these same gentler excursions, Hahn’s clear and breathy tenor aids further in distancing his performance from the subtle grit and chesty bellow that he displays in horn-raising, fist-pumping amp-shakers (“Consumed by Vengeance,” “Dreams of Mortal Ruin”). Hahn has amazing range, and an incredible ability to lay down harmonized solos in a big Scorpions way, but it really does feel like he’s packing too many contrasting ideas into Sleepless.
However, many of Sleepless’ ’80s and ’90s traditional genre worship excursions come across in a more flattering manner. The best cuts across Through Endless Black lead with refrains drenched in guitar drama, dark synth play, and full volume chord swells, all resolving in well-framed choruses (“Call to the Void,” “Where Fear Lives,” “Dreams…”). And slipping well into the sleaze and heavy metal fervor of the grand and gruff W.A.S.P., Hahn loads an extra venom and swagger into his barking verse work and sliding wails (“Exist Another Day,” “Transcending the Obsidian Throne”), even landing in a ripe pseudo-ballad cheese with the opening chime and croon of “Lost Star.” The supporting rhythm tones aren’t quite what one would expect in this lane, relying less on spacious chords and reverb, and more on compressed guitar crackle and a low-end lurch, but that at least helps pull Sleepless away from pure homage and into foraging a sound in reverence.
Despite the success that Sleepless finds throughout Through Endless Black, a certain lack of wildness—of rugged bravado—holds it back from turning its glory into grandiosity. Steeped in studied sounds, Sleepless never feels wanting in execution. Though some of that same polish leads Through Endless Black to engorge with a textbook battlefield vigor, that same educational approach does not lead to many surprises and allows the lesser sputters present to pull down the total experience. I do have high hopes for Sleepless though, as a sophomore cobbling of this quality shows, potential, promise, and perhaps a sword simply too deep in its sheath.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Warrior Records
Websites: sleeplessmetal.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/sleepless
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2024#25 #2024 #AmericanMetal #FifthAngel #HeavyMetal #MemoryGarden #Oct24 #ProgPower #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Scorpions #Sleepless #TadMorose #ThroughEndlessBlack #WASP_
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Sleepless – Through Endless Black Review
By Dolphin Whisperer
Bands who seek to echo heavy metal’s past walk a fine line between regressive repetition and studied homage. Consequently, in a world where source material for these sounds spans the course of decades, the tag indicating this new wave of traditional heavy metal remains wide in scope. Motorcycles? Loin cloths? Swords and dragons? What shall the recipe of hairy-chested riffs and wailing mic blowouts spell? In examining Oregon-based Sleepless’ sophomore outing, Through Endless Black, it’s at least clear that two things are true: the power of riffs indeed compels this collection to rock, and an urgent vocal identity fills its chest proudly. But the question still looms around what brand of traditional showmanship Sleepless displays.
Whether Sleepless knows it or not, their sound on Through Endless Black plays close to the weird power-leaning doom of the ’90s Swedish underground in its manner of rockin’ trad riffs that swing to crawling, soaring choruses. We talk about a lot of things around the water cooler at Casa AMG1, and though many of us don’t see eye-to-eye on the world at large, at least the great Steel and I can agree on one thing: too many bands ignore the potential to copy peak Tad Morose. Determined to set my heart aflutter, melodic leads that drop into heavyweight drags scattered throughout Through Endless Black recalls both the slower cuts of Tad Morose or the more traditional gallop of the similar-minded Memory Garden. Main mind Kevin Hahn, holding chops both in the grip of a traditional axe and tastefully reverbed mic, has spent a lot of time both on the cover band circuit2 and at the engineer’s seat, so I’m not sure that exactly his aim with Sleepless. But different paths can always lead to similar results.
Except not every track across Through Endless Black reeks of that same stench of doomy power, with Hahn’s vocal prowess serving equally as blight and boon. Simple and fluffy rock riffs, the kind that present themselves in the AOR-assisted jams of cruise groove like Fifth Angel, already pull attention away from muscular crushes at the least effective moments (“Cult of the Narcissist,” “Lessons in Tongues”). And in these same gentler excursions, Hahn’s clear and breathy tenor aids further in distancing his performance from the subtle grit and chesty bellow that he displays in horn-raising, fist-pumping amp-shakers (“Consumed by Vengeance,” “Dreams of Mortal Ruin”). Hahn has amazing range, and an incredible ability to lay down harmonized solos in a big Scorpions way, but it really does feel like he’s packing too many contrasting ideas into Sleepless.
However, many of Sleepless’ ’80s and ’90s traditional genre worship excursions come across in a more flattering manner. The best cuts across Through Endless Black lead with refrains drenched in guitar drama, dark synth play, and full volume chord swells, all resolving in well-framed choruses (“Call to the Void,” “Where Fear Lives,” “Dreams…”). And slipping well into the sleaze and heavy metal fervor of the grand and gruff W.A.S.P., Hahn loads an extra venom and swagger into his barking verse work and sliding wails (“Exist Another Day,” “Transcending the Obsidian Throne”), even landing in a ripe pseudo-ballad cheese with the opening chime and croon of “Lost Star.” The supporting rhythm tones aren’t quite what one would expect in this lane, relying less on spacious chords and reverb, and more on compressed guitar crackle and a low-end lurch, but that at least helps pull Sleepless away from pure homage and into foraging a sound in reverence.
Despite the success that Sleepless finds throughout Through Endless Black, a certain lack of wildness—of rugged bravado—holds it back from turning its glory into grandiosity. Steeped in studied sounds, Sleepless never feels wanting in execution. Though some of that same polish leads Through Endless Black to engorge with a textbook battlefield vigor, that same educational approach does not lead to many surprises and allows the lesser sputters present to pull down the total experience. I do have high hopes for Sleepless though, as a sophomore cobbling of this quality shows, potential, promise, and perhaps a sword simply too deep in its sheath.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Warrior Records
Websites: sleeplessmetal.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/sleepless
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2024#25 #2024 #AmericanMetal #FifthAngel #HeavyMetal #MemoryGarden #Oct24 #ProgPower #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Scorpions #Sleepless #TadMorose #ThroughEndlessBlack #WASP_
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Amputate – Abysmal Ascent Review
By Steel Druhm
Written By: Nameless_N00b_85
The indiscernible line between inspiration and imitation plagues writers, musicians, and artists of all stripes. While the Wormeds and Ulcerates of the world continue to ask what it means to be death metal in a modern context, entire scenes have sprung forth to celebrate the sound of the olde and trve, with the name of the game being “bigger and better” rather than raw in innovation. Swiss band Amputate finds themselves in the latter camp, poised to uncork a letter to the old school in the form of third album Abysmal Ascent. Their sophomore made its way through these very halls, with Doom et Al describing their efforts as “recycled.” This description poses an ironic challenge to this reviewer as we dive in to see whether Amputate has forged something with their own identity. Or, whether I must strive to not copy and paste my great predecessor’s review and be done with it.
The biggest improvement Abysmal Ascent offers is the production. In an about-face from the overly clean and blandly polished Dawn of Annihilation, Amputate have opted for an older, more direct approach. All guitars are recorded straight from their amps, and vocals have minimal effects, making the entire project sound pleasingly raw and organic, like a discount Vomitory or Gorement. This helps Amputate’s more chunky moments where their HM-2 flags fly highest (“Abysmal Ascent”, “Sepulcro”), with vocalist Tom Kuzmic doing his best “We have Erik Rundqvist (Vomitory) at home” approach. His growls, never going beyond competent in their extremity, are clearly piped straight from voice to recording, adding a layer of appreciability in their organic presentation. The DR of 7 allows bouncy, harmonized leads to shine (“Cavernous Temple of the Absurd”) as well as add thunk to the occasional bass solo (“Malevolent Manifestation”). Everything is catchy, deliberately designed, and inoffensive.
Inoffensive, however, best summarizes the whole of Abysmal Ascent. Amputate stretches a reasonable runtime of 39 minutes into a bland sheet of beige-colored audio that seems never-ending in its haze of riffs. The solos are enjoyable, melodic, and well-executed, and also enter the ears and leave the mind as soon as the song concludes (“Extractive Monolith”, “I Am Genocide”). It is telling that instrumental “Hybrid Organism” is the most interesting song on the album—not because of any weakness of the vocals, but because it forces Amputate to stretch their songwriting wings just a little bit. Otherwise, their insistence to adhere to the spirit of OSDM is their undoing, as each song sounds carefully constructed to sound like a facet of greater bands before them. From the crowd-friendly chorus of “I Am Genocide” to the last gasp of energy in sub-two minute closer “Perpetuum,” all of Abysmal Ascent gives off “good local band energy.” You’re sure they’re destined for big things one day, but also ready for them to get off the stage.
This is disappointing because the members of Amputate are no slouches in their individual performances. Nuno Santos and Kuzmic do plenty of tinkering, working with 12/4 time signatures (“Malevolent Manifestation”), speedy tech-adjacent licks (“Sepulcro”,) and good old-fashioned Swedeath sustained chords (“Abysmal Ascent”, “Extractive Monolith”). It is in these slower moments that the band has the smallest whiff of an identity, as the heavier chords allow solos and leads to have a tad more impact. These moments are fleeting, however, and even the most memorable of these—for my money, the chorus of the title track—washes away in the hustle and bustle of blandness by whatever track follows. Abysmal Ascent is an album of excellent ingredients, deliberately concocted into a fine-sounding tribute to better bands before them. And not one of the generous number of listens I’ve given this album has unearthed anything approaching memorability, identity, or repeat play value.
Ultimately, Abysmal Ascent is an etch-a-sketch of an album, each song shaking and erasing the one preceding it, leaving the listener empty and unmoved. It’s clear that Amputate has ambition and passion; what they don’t have are the riffs. They lack the ball-crushing groove of Gatecreeper, the sinister atmosphere of Frozen Soul, the rabid bloodthirst of Vomitory, or the unique melody of Tomb Mold. Instead, they slot neatly in with the Entrailses and the Beheadeds of the world—bland and offensively inoffensive, nothing more. An album with a filthier production, a greater emphasis on songwriting, and developing a sense of identity for themselves would do wonders for their admitted performance capabilities, but discerning lovers of the old school should look elsewhere.
Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Massacre Records
Website: facebook.com/amputateofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 11th, 2024#20 #2024 #AbysmalAscent #Amputate #Beheaded #DeathMetal #Entrails #Gorement #MassacreRecords #Oct24 #Review #Reviews #SwissMetal #Vomitory
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Amputate – Abysmal Ascent Review
By Steel Druhm
Written By: Nameless_N00b_85
The indiscernible line between inspiration and imitation plagues writers, musicians, and artists of all stripes. While the Wormeds and Ulcerates of the world continue to ask what it means to be death metal in a modern context, entire scenes have sprung forth to celebrate the sound of the olde and trve, with the name of the game being “bigger and better” rather than raw in innovation. Swiss band Amputate finds themselves in the latter camp, poised to uncork a letter to the old school in the form of third album Abysmal Ascent. Their sophomore made its way through these very halls, with Doom et Al describing their efforts as “recycled.” This description poses an ironic challenge to this reviewer as we dive in to see whether Amputate has forged something with their own identity. Or, whether I must strive to not copy and paste my great predecessor’s review and be done with it.
The biggest improvement Abysmal Ascent offers is the production. In an about-face from the overly clean and blandly polished Dawn of Annihilation, Amputate have opted for an older, more direct approach. All guitars are recorded straight from their amps, and vocals have minimal effects, making the entire project sound pleasingly raw and organic, like a discount Vomitory or Gorement. This helps Amputate’s more chunky moments where their HM-2 flags fly highest (“Abysmal Ascent”, “Sepulcro”), with vocalist Tom Kuzmic doing his best “We have Erik Rundqvist (Vomitory) at home” approach. His growls, never going beyond competent in their extremity, are clearly piped straight from voice to recording, adding a layer of appreciability in their organic presentation. The DR of 7 allows bouncy, harmonized leads to shine (“Cavernous Temple of the Absurd”) as well as add thunk to the occasional bass solo (“Malevolent Manifestation”). Everything is catchy, deliberately designed, and inoffensive.
Inoffensive, however, best summarizes the whole of Abysmal Ascent. Amputate stretches a reasonable runtime of 39 minutes into a bland sheet of beige-colored audio that seems never-ending in its haze of riffs. The solos are enjoyable, melodic, and well-executed, and also enter the ears and leave the mind as soon as the song concludes (“Extractive Monolith”, “I Am Genocide”). It is telling that instrumental “Hybrid Organism” is the most interesting song on the album—not because of any weakness of the vocals, but because it forces Amputate to stretch their songwriting wings just a little bit. Otherwise, their insistence to adhere to the spirit of OSDM is their undoing, as each song sounds carefully constructed to sound like a facet of greater bands before them. From the crowd-friendly chorus of “I Am Genocide” to the last gasp of energy in sub-two minute closer “Perpetuum,” all of Abysmal Ascent gives off “good local band energy.” You’re sure they’re destined for big things one day, but also ready for them to get off the stage.
This is disappointing because the members of Amputate are no slouches in their individual performances. Nuno Santos and Kuzmic do plenty of tinkering, working with 12/4 time signatures (“Malevolent Manifestation”), speedy tech-adjacent licks (“Sepulcro”,) and good old-fashioned Swedeath sustained chords (“Abysmal Ascent”, “Extractive Monolith”). It is in these slower moments that the band has the smallest whiff of an identity, as the heavier chords allow solos and leads to have a tad more impact. These moments are fleeting, however, and even the most memorable of these—for my money, the chorus of the title track—washes away in the hustle and bustle of blandness by whatever track follows. Abysmal Ascent is an album of excellent ingredients, deliberately concocted into a fine-sounding tribute to better bands before them. And not one of the generous number of listens I’ve given this album has unearthed anything approaching memorability, identity, or repeat play value.
Ultimately, Abysmal Ascent is an etch-a-sketch of an album, each song shaking and erasing the one preceding it, leaving the listener empty and unmoved. It’s clear that Amputate has ambition and passion; what they don’t have are the riffs. They lack the ball-crushing groove of Gatecreeper, the sinister atmosphere of Frozen Soul, the rabid bloodthirst of Vomitory, or the unique melody of Tomb Mold. Instead, they slot neatly in with the Entrailses and the Beheadeds of the world—bland and offensively inoffensive, nothing more. An album with a filthier production, a greater emphasis on songwriting, and developing a sense of identity for themselves would do wonders for their admitted performance capabilities, but discerning lovers of the old school should look elsewhere.
Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Massacre Records
Website: facebook.com/amputateofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 11th, 2024#20 #2024 #AbysmalAscent #Amputate #Beheaded #DeathMetal #Entrails #Gorement #MassacreRecords #Oct24 #Review #Reviews #SwissMetal #Vomitory
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Amputate – Abysmal Ascent Review
By Steel Druhm
Written By: Nameless_N00b_85
The indiscernible line between inspiration and imitation plagues writers, musicians, and artists of all stripes. While the Wormeds and Ulcerates of the world continue to ask what it means to be death metal in a modern context, entire scenes have sprung forth to celebrate the sound of the olde and trve, with the name of the game being “bigger and better” rather than raw in innovation. Swiss band Amputate finds themselves in the latter camp, poised to uncork a letter to the old school in the form of third album Abysmal Ascent. Their sophomore made its way through these very halls, with Doom et Al describing their efforts as “recycled.” This description poses an ironic challenge to this reviewer as we dive in to see whether Amputate has forged something with their own identity. Or, whether I must strive to not copy and paste my great predecessor’s review and be done with it.
The biggest improvement Abysmal Ascent offers is the production. In an about-face from the overly clean and blandly polished Dawn of Annihilation, Amputate have opted for an older, more direct approach. All guitars are recorded straight from their amps, and vocals have minimal effects, making the entire project sound pleasingly raw and organic, like a discount Vomitory or Gorement. This helps Amputate’s more chunky moments where their HM-2 flags fly highest (“Abysmal Ascent”, “Sepulcro”), with vocalist Tom Kuzmic doing his best “We have Erik Rundqvist (Vomitory) at home” approach. His growls, never going beyond competent in their extremity, are clearly piped straight from voice to recording, adding a layer of appreciability in their organic presentation. The DR of 7 allows bouncy, harmonized leads to shine (“Cavernous Temple of the Absurd”) as well as add thunk to the occasional bass solo (“Malevolent Manifestation”). Everything is catchy, deliberately designed, and inoffensive.
Inoffensive, however, best summarizes the whole of Abysmal Ascent. Amputate stretches a reasonable runtime of 39 minutes into a bland sheet of beige-colored audio that seems never-ending in its haze of riffs. The solos are enjoyable, melodic, and well-executed, and also enter the ears and leave the mind as soon as the song concludes (“Extractive Monolith”, “I Am Genocide”). It is telling that instrumental “Hybrid Organism” is the most interesting song on the album—not because of any weakness of the vocals, but because it forces Amputate to stretch their songwriting wings just a little bit. Otherwise, their insistence to adhere to the spirit of OSDM is their undoing, as each song sounds carefully constructed to sound like a facet of greater bands before them. From the crowd-friendly chorus of “I Am Genocide” to the last gasp of energy in sub-two minute closer “Perpetuum,” all of Abysmal Ascent gives off “good local band energy.” You’re sure they’re destined for big things one day, but also ready for them to get off the stage.
This is disappointing because the members of Amputate are no slouches in their individual performances. Nuno Santos and Kuzmic do plenty of tinkering, working with 12/4 time signatures (“Malevolent Manifestation”), speedy tech-adjacent licks (“Sepulcro”,) and good old-fashioned Swedeath sustained chords (“Abysmal Ascent”, “Extractive Monolith”). It is in these slower moments that the band has the smallest whiff of an identity, as the heavier chords allow solos and leads to have a tad more impact. These moments are fleeting, however, and even the most memorable of these—for my money, the chorus of the title track—washes away in the hustle and bustle of blandness by whatever track follows. Abysmal Ascent is an album of excellent ingredients, deliberately concocted into a fine-sounding tribute to better bands before them. And not one of the generous number of listens I’ve given this album has unearthed anything approaching memorability, identity, or repeat play value.
Ultimately, Abysmal Ascent is an etch-a-sketch of an album, each song shaking and erasing the one preceding it, leaving the listener empty and unmoved. It’s clear that Amputate has ambition and passion; what they don’t have are the riffs. They lack the ball-crushing groove of Gatecreeper, the sinister atmosphere of Frozen Soul, the rabid bloodthirst of Vomitory, or the unique melody of Tomb Mold. Instead, they slot neatly in with the Entrailses and the Beheadeds of the world—bland and offensively inoffensive, nothing more. An album with a filthier production, a greater emphasis on songwriting, and developing a sense of identity for themselves would do wonders for their admitted performance capabilities, but discerning lovers of the old school should look elsewhere.
Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Massacre Records
Website: facebook.com/amputateofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 11th, 2024#20 #2024 #AbysmalAscent #Amputate #Beheaded #DeathMetal #Entrails #Gorement #MassacreRecords #Oct24 #Review #Reviews #SwissMetal #Vomitory
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Capilla Ardiente – Where Gods Live and Men Die Review
By Dolphin Whisperer
The only thing more metal than the glimmer of bloodied blade in the setting sun is the barbaric howl that reverberates afterward as a determination of victory. Early in heavy metal’s history, that kind of bravado embodied by the epic escapades of Iron Maiden, marching jams of Manilla Road, or the regressive rambunctiousness of Manowar separated that true spirit from burgeoning radio-friendly sounds in similarly incepted acts. In the modern day, the epic tag has carried on through the spirit of traditional heavy and doom-leaning acts—the Aceruses and Stygian Crowns of this world, among others. Capilla Ardiente too has carried the flag, with their 2019 opus The Siege harboring both the explosive nature required to wield steel and the patience to strike for killing impact. Less restrained in title, does Where Gods Live and Men Die possess the same battlefield tact?
If The Siege drew inspiration from a raid while the walls still stood in defense, Where Gods Live and Men Die finds itself amid the breeched fortifications. The Siege saw Felipe Plaza Kutzbach’s (Procession, Scald) barrel-chested, Bayley-intonated1 roars soar through the wade and gallop of Candlemassive riffs and aggressive Solitude Aeturnus charges against the heavy load of full gain bass thwonk—a tone far more common in stoner doom than in the moistened-loins epic world. Now, Where Gods sees an increased guide of wailing leads as histrionic intros and episodic transitions in its four episodic, long-form pieces. No matter the guitar tone, low and modern for rhythms or high and cutting for shredding hours, Claudio Botarro Neira’s monstrous four-string work never hides, finding its way to a tasteful clanging solo (“Not Here. Nowhere.,” “As I Lie on the Summit”) and dancing, progressive transition all the same.
For an act focused on building layers of harmony on mountains of riffs, Capilla Ardiente has chosen a robust and unsubtle production style for Where Gods Live and Men Die. From the opening notes a wall of distorted bass, modern-toned chords, and low-end harmonized riff lines ring in voluminous glory. Each line rings through with enough compression to allow clarity in assault, and maintains a pleasant warmth, particularly in ringing chord breakaways that segue various moments on this time-testing journey. Against Neira’s devouring bass presence, a gargantuan tone that in the wrong hands would be a recipe for bulldozed guitars, it’s no easy feat for riffs to maintain their own separate weight, and the amount of volume it takes to keep palm-muted touches crispy and trills defined can wear on the ears. But still, Capilla Ardiente plays around with enough higher frequency accents—Maiden worship roto tom fills, neoclassical melodic guitar quips—to keep the soundstage from collapsing in its own power.
Kutzbach’s well-framed vocal charisma remains equally important to the winding structure that defines Capilla Ardiente’s works. Many of his parts have a roundabout way of finding note resolution. The call-and-response vocal-guitar solo break in the midway point of “The Hands of Fate Around My Neck,” where many words fall just flat until descending into a double-tracked harmony or paired arpeggio, would be a hard sell if not for the backing triumph of the riff run that led up to it—and the blazing solo that follows it, for that matter. And Kutzbach himself holds the proper belief that a well-placed falsetto can raise the intensity level, with key breaks from his burly, tightroping baritone-shattering listening defenses as necessary. Truthfully, I’m not certain a more accurate voice2 could match the sword-clashing spirals that present in “Envenomed” or “As I Lie…” as the frenetic nature of the tempo accelerations and subsequent crawls spell for chaos not calculation. Just as in battle, it’s the last swing that matters, and Kutzbach knows this.
Through the various bouts I’ve had with Where Gods Live and Men Die, Capilla Ardiente continues to come out with sword raised high and head hanging low. Though their take on epic, progressive doom metal eschews the horrors of skirmish by focusing on the path necessary to rise above, its sullen dips into Peaceville aesthetics reminds us that the battlefield is not a jubilant place. Much like the music that Capilla Ardiente produces, navigating a dive into the fray requires careful attention to its twists. Where Gods Live and Men Die is a challenge, but not one without its spoils.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records3.
Websites: facebook.com/capillaardientedoom
Releases Worldwide: October 18th, 2024#2024 #35 #BlazeBayley #Candlemass #CapillaArdiente #ChileanMetal #DoomMetal #EpicDoomMetal #HighRollerRecords #IronMaiden #Oct24 #Procession #ProgressiveDoomMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Scald #SolitudeAeturnus #TheSiege #WhereGodsLiveAndMenDie
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Capilla Ardiente – Where Gods Live and Men Die Review
By Dolphin Whisperer
The only thing more metal than the glimmer of bloodied blade in the setting sun is the barbaric howl that reverberates afterward as a determination of victory. Early in heavy metal’s history, that kind of bravado embodied by the epic escapades of Iron Maiden, marching jams of Manilla Road, or the regressive rambunctiousness of Manowar separated that true spirit from burgeoning radio-friendly sounds in similarly incepted acts. In the modern day, the epic tag has carried on through the spirit of traditional heavy and doom-leaning acts—the Aceruses and Stygian Crowns of this world, among others. Capilla Ardiente too has carried the flag, with their 2019 opus The Siege harboring both the explosive nature required to wield steel and the patience to strike for killing impact. Less restrained in title, does Where Gods Live and Men Die possess the same battlefield tact?
If The Siege drew inspiration from a raid while the walls still stood in defense, Where Gods Live and Men Die finds itself amid the breeched fortifications. The Siege saw Felipe Plaza Kutzbach’s (Procession, Scald) barrel-chested, Bayley-intonated1 roars soar through the wade and gallop of Candlemassive riffs and aggressive Solitude Aeturnus charges against the heavy load of full gain bass thwonk—a tone far more common in stoner doom than in the moistened-loins epic world. Now, Where Gods sees an increased guide of wailing leads as histrionic intros and episodic transitions in its four episodic, long-form pieces. No matter the guitar tone, low and modern for rhythms or high and cutting for shredding hours, Claudio Botarro Neira’s monstrous four-string work never hides, finding its way to a tasteful clanging solo (“Not Here. Nowhere.,” “As I Lie on the Summit”) and dancing, progressive transition all the same.
For an act focused on building layers of harmony on mountains of riffs, Capilla Ardiente has chosen a robust and unsubtle production style for Where Gods Live and Men Die. From the opening notes a wall of distorted bass, modern-toned chords, and low-end harmonized riff lines ring in voluminous glory. Each line rings through with enough compression to allow clarity in assault, and maintains a pleasant warmth, particularly in ringing chord breakaways that segue various moments on this time-testing journey. Against Neira’s devouring bass presence, a gargantuan tone that in the wrong hands would be a recipe for bulldozed guitars, it’s no easy feat for riffs to maintain their own separate weight, and the amount of volume it takes to keep palm-muted touches crispy and trills defined can wear on the ears. But still, Capilla Ardiente plays around with enough higher frequency accents—Maiden worship roto tom fills, neoclassical melodic guitar quips—to keep the soundstage from collapsing in its own power.
Kutzbach’s well-framed vocal charisma remains equally important to the winding structure that defines Capilla Ardiente’s works. Many of his parts have a roundabout way of finding note resolution. The call-and-response vocal-guitar solo break in the midway point of “The Hands of Fate Around My Neck,” where many words fall just flat until descending into a double-tracked harmony or paired arpeggio, would be a hard sell if not for the backing triumph of the riff run that led up to it—and the blazing solo that follows it, for that matter. And Kutzbach himself holds the proper belief that a well-placed falsetto can raise the intensity level, with key breaks from his burly, tightroping baritone-shattering listening defenses as necessary. Truthfully, I’m not certain a more accurate voice2 could match the sword-clashing spirals that present in “Envenomed” or “As I Lie…” as the frenetic nature of the tempo accelerations and subsequent crawls spell for chaos not calculation. Just as in battle, it’s the last swing that matters, and Kutzbach knows this.
Through the various bouts I’ve had with Where Gods Live and Men Die, Capilla Ardiente continues to come out with sword raised high and head hanging low. Though their take on epic, progressive doom metal eschews the horrors of skirmish by focusing on the path necessary to rise above, its sullen dips into Peaceville aesthetics reminds us that the battlefield is not a jubilant place. Much like the music that Capilla Ardiente produces, navigating a dive into the fray requires careful attention to its twists. Where Gods Live and Men Die is a challenge, but not one without its spoils.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records3.
Websites: facebook.com/capillaardientedoom
Releases Worldwide: October 18th, 2024#2024 #35 #BlazeBayley #Candlemass #CapillaArdiente #ChileanMetal #DoomMetal #EpicDoomMetal #HighRollerRecords #IronMaiden #Oct24 #Procession #ProgressiveDoomMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Scald #SolitudeAeturnus #TheSiege #WhereGodsLiveAndMenDie
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Capilla Ardiente – Where Gods Live and Men Die Review
By Dolphin Whisperer
The only thing more metal than the glimmer of bloodied blade in the setting sun is the barbaric howl that reverberates afterward as a determination of victory. Early in heavy metal’s history, that kind of bravado embodied by the epic escapades of Iron Maiden, marching jams of Manilla Road, or the regressive rambunctiousness of Manowar separated that true spirit from burgeoning radio-friendly sounds in similarly incepted acts. In the modern day, the epic tag has carried on through the spirit of traditional heavy and doom-leaning acts—the Aceruses and Stygian Crowns of this world, among others. Capilla Ardiente too has carried the flag, with their 2019 opus The Siege harboring both the explosive nature required to wield steel and the patience to strike for killing impact. Less restrained in title, does Where Gods Live and Men Die possess the same battlefield tact?
If The Siege drew inspiration from a raid while the walls still stood in defense, Where Gods Live and Men Die finds itself amid the breeched fortifications. The Siege saw Felipe Plaza Kutzbach’s (Procession, Scald) barrel-chested, Bayley-intonated1 roars soar through the wade and gallop of Candlemassive riffs and aggressive Solitude Aeturnus charges against the heavy load of full gain bass thwonk—a tone far more common in stoner doom than in the moistened-loins epic world. Now, Where Gods sees an increased guide of wailing leads as histrionic intros and episodic transitions in its four episodic, long-form pieces. No matter the guitar tone, low and modern for rhythms or high and cutting for shredding hours, Claudio Botarro Neira’s monstrous four-string work never hides, finding its way to a tasteful clanging solo (“Not Here. Nowhere.,” “As I Lie on the Summit”) and dancing, progressive transition all the same.
For an act focused on building layers of harmony on mountains of riffs, Capilla Ardiente has chosen a robust and unsubtle production style for Where Gods Live and Men Die. From the opening notes a wall of distorted bass, modern-toned chords, and low-end harmonized riff lines ring in voluminous glory. Each line rings through with enough compression to allow clarity in assault, and maintains a pleasant warmth, particularly in ringing chord breakaways that segue various moments on this time-testing journey. Against Neira’s devouring bass presence, a gargantuan tone that in the wrong hands would be a recipe for bulldozed guitars, it’s no easy feat for riffs to maintain their own separate weight, and the amount of volume it takes to keep palm-muted touches crispy and trills defined can wear on the ears. But still, Capilla Ardiente plays around with enough higher frequency accents—Maiden worship roto tom fills, neoclassical melodic guitar quips—to keep the soundstage from collapsing in its own power.
Kutzbach’s well-framed vocal charisma remains equally important to the winding structure that defines Capilla Ardiente’s works. Many of his parts have a roundabout way of finding note resolution. The call-and-response vocal-guitar solo break in the midway point of “The Hands of Fate Around My Neck,” where many words fall just flat until descending into a double-tracked harmony or paired arpeggio, would be a hard sell if not for the backing triumph of the riff run that led up to it—and the blazing solo that follows it, for that matter. And Kutzbach himself holds the proper belief that a well-placed falsetto can raise the intensity level, with key breaks from his burly, tightroping baritone-shattering listening defenses as necessary. Truthfully, I’m not certain a more accurate voice2 could match the sword-clashing spirals that present in “Envenomed” or “As I Lie…” as the frenetic nature of the tempo accelerations and subsequent crawls spell for chaos not calculation. Just as in battle, it’s the last swing that matters, and Kutzbach knows this.
Through the various bouts I’ve had with Where Gods Live and Men Die, Capilla Ardiente continues to come out with sword raised high and head hanging low. Though their take on epic, progressive doom metal eschews the horrors of skirmish by focusing on the path necessary to rise above, its sullen dips into Peaceville aesthetics reminds us that the battlefield is not a jubilant place. Much like the music that Capilla Ardiente produces, navigating a dive into the fray requires careful attention to its twists. Where Gods Live and Men Die is a challenge, but not one without its spoils.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records3.
Websites: facebook.com/capillaardientedoom
Releases Worldwide: October 18th, 2024#2024 #35 #BlazeBayley #Candlemass #CapillaArdiente #ChileanMetal #DoomMetal #EpicDoomMetal #HighRollerRecords #IronMaiden #Oct24 #Procession #ProgressiveDoomMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Scald #SolitudeAeturnus #TheSiege #WhereGodsLiveAndMenDie
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I know Catteries can be uncomplimented on the internets — say, the same way “cat washing” can cause angina for some, but, Janna and I both argue from direct experience, that washing your Cat gives that baby a new life, and unrequited rights in a whole fresh world of cleanliness — and yes, if you want a purebred cat, you’re probably going to have to deal with a Cattery.
Thirty years ago, or so, we got our first purebred Persian boy from a Cattery. The Breeder told us he wasn’t wanted for breeding because “his spine was too long” and the Breeder wanted “short, compact, cats.” So, at 10 months, the Breeder gave him to us for free. He arrived with his Persian hair shorn, and a long line of ringworm from his chin to his abdomen! The Breeder had no idea our boy had ringworm until she shaved him down (to get rid of all the tangles, and matted hair, we surmise) and she gave us some illegal milky substance “imported from Germany” that would “heal his ringworm in three days.” It worked, as far as we knew, and the ringworm was gone.
Here’s what ChatGPT guessed the “illegal substance” from Germany might have been — it arrived in an unmarked squeeze bottle:
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Adjusting the timeline to 30-35 years ago, we’re looking at the late 1980s to early 1990s. This era had more limited veterinary treatment options for conditions like ringworm in animals compared to today. Based on this updated timeframe, here are a few possibilities for what the milky substance could have been:
- Griseofulvin: This was the main antifungal drug available during that period, especially for treating dermatophytosis (ringworm) in cats. Griseofulvin suspension, which had a milky appearance, was often imported because it wasn’t consistently available in some regions. In Germany, the formulation might have been different or considered superior to what was approved for use in the U.S., leading breeders to seek it out. Importation of veterinary medications without FDA approval was not uncommon at the time, though it was technically illegal.
Enilconazole: This is another potential candidate. Enilconazole was a topical antifungal agent used to treat ringworm in cats, and it was approved in Europe earlier than in the United States. It often came in an emulsion form that could appear milky. It might have been obtained illegally for use in pets when it wasn’t yet authorized by the FDA in the U.S.
Lufenuron (early stages): Though primarily known as a flea growth regulator, anecdotal reports in the late 1980s and early 1990s suggested that Lufenuron might help with fungal infections like ringworm. The European formulations of certain veterinary products were sometimes ahead of their counterparts in the U.S., and breeders might have experimented with treatments that weren’t yet approved stateside.
Itraconazole Compounds: Although Itraconazole became more common a bit later, early compounded versions or experimental formulations could have been available in Europe before gaining traction in the U.S. Veterinary formulations were often specially compounded, potentially explaining the milky texture.
The regulatory frameworks for veterinary medicines were less harmonized between Europe and the United States during this period, leading breeders to seek solutions from European suppliers, especially those with promising antifungal properties that weren’t yet approved or distributed by U.S. authorities. Griseofulvin remains the most likely candidate due to its historical use, but Enilconazole’s availability in Europe and its characteristic milky form make it a strong possibility as well.
///
Fast forward to now, and our two, new, beautiful British Shorthair Blue Girl named Percy and our wonderful Lilac Boy named Lotty — yes, they are brother and sister from the same litter and they have their own website, and hit song, at BolesBrits.com — and here are some of the issues we’ve had with them over the last eight weeks since we brought them home:
- The Breeder got their gender wrong! How did that happen at eight weeks when we picked them up? And so, the girl is the boy; the boy is the girl! (We thought Percy was the Boy and Lotty was the Girl, but not so! Their theme song has been ruined!) Our Cattery contracts are wrong. Our receipts are wrong. We are glad we had a good Vet who didn’t presume, or even assume, the gender of our delightful kittens! Now we know! Make sure all your kittens get fast, gender-affirming, Vet care early on! (I now think that Percy, the Blue Girl, is wearing too much eyeliner for her age, but maybe that now just comes with the breed…)
- Both Cats are right now being treated for ringworm and the medicine can be a danger to their liver. Oh, and I guess I was gifted four ringworm lesions from them as well — I had never before had ringworm in my life! For the last two months, Percy, Lotty, and I haven’t been anywhere, except the Vet office; and so all paths appear to lead to the Cats somehow! Our Vet said this can be common in a Cattery. Another expert Cat friend said, “If you’re getting purebred Cats from a Cattery, they’re coming to you with ringworm!). We have learned that Cats in a Cattery often just pass the ringworm back and forth to each other until separation from the Breeder — it’s a hard thing to pin down for sure. We cannot help but imagine, in a Breeder’s eye, that these cats are only “meat to be sold.” I guess that makes some sense on an ecological and fiscal level even though we don’t treat our Cats like dinner.
- The Breeder also tried to set us up with an MLM cat food service without telling us we were being set up in an MLM. We aren’t into MLM, we don’t want MLM! We chose a mixture of raw food, Royal Canin, Nulo and Tiki Cat as needed and desired by The Brits!
- The “Breeder discount” for Trupanion Pet insurance is from day one with a $250 deductible for each incident over the life of the Cat. If, however, you just register your Cats with Trupanion without the discount, you get the same percentage and coverage for a $200 deductible starting 30 days from registration with Trupanion. So, is it worth an extra $50 deductible for the life of the Cat from day one, for each incident, or can you tolerate not paying a “Breeder” enhancement of $50 per instance by waiting 30 days?
This has been a learning experience for us. We love The Brits! We were told their Cattery has been in business for 29 years, and they are not cheap; but, I guess, you get what you pay for — and then some! — if you are not careful, and always questioning, and forever cautious.
Don’t believe everything you’re told!
Be safe out there!
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https://bolesblogs.com/2024/10/17/get-thee-to-a-cattery/
#blue #bolesbritsCom #Breeder #BritishShorthair #brother #cats #cattery #lilac #Lotty #Percy #ringworm #sister
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Warlust – Sol Invictvs in Vmbrae Satanae Review
By Steel Druhm
Written By: Nameless_N00b_85
Germany’s Warlust promises a sonic Venn diagram of blackened death/thrash with a grand, epic feel. Toiling away in the underground for a decade, Sol Invictvs in Vmbrae Satanae is their third outing, and to hear their label tell it, they’ve leveled up. The promo attached waxed eloquent about “assaults on the false” and music with “genuine evil blood coursing through its veins.” References to Necrophobic and Dissection, on top of the assurance that the album sounds “HUGE” [sic] tantalizes and entices. Add on descriptions of “Maximum evil, muscular chops,” (they really emphasized the “evil” bit,) and “the blackest of atmosphere” and this n00b couldn’t slam play fast enough. What awaits inside isn’t the hellfire promised but is an enjoyable journey all the same.
Warlust demonstrates a keen sense of song arrangement, and this works their formula to their advantage. Drummer Warmachine is the star of the album, using the guitar’s every repeated melody to vary up his style from expected blackened blasts into cymbal heavy beats into octopus-limbed flourishes ensuring that repetitions never sap the song of momentum. Guitarists/Vocalists Aeon and Necromancer rely on a barrage of trem-picked melodies, repeating enough times for Warmachine to show his chops before deftly switching into a chug-heavy attack or chunky groove. They throw plenty of tricks at the listener, ranging from harmonized solos, (“Serpent Crown”), waltz-time signatures (“Legio! Aeternal! Vitrix!” and “Forgotten Cult of Chronos”) and even bass solos (“The Followless”). Each new riff, clean interlude, and solo is masterfully positioned to flow into each other while contrasting with what came before, passages cascading into one another without ever blending into an opaque mess of sound.
An affinity for dynamics and flare riddle Sol Invictvs in Vmbrae Satanae. In fact, Warlusts determination to constantly keep things fresh ends up impeding the full product from excellence. While there are no riffs or moments here that are individually poor, occasionally it seems Warlust start to vibe to their own material too much and overstep the mark in trying to grab that “epic” feel. A mood-setting interlude comes unexpectedly after a meager two “real songs”, which then flows into a song with its own slow buildup (“…Of Gallows and Absurdity”), rendering its presence superfluous. While deft at making sure they keep things moving enough that no riff ever truly collapses into monotony, some tighter editing would help to make sure each moment contained more punch. “Serpent’s Crown” is the worst offender here, beginning with a hook that drags well past its expiration date, only to be returned to for chorus purposes. Luckily, the songwriting gets stronger as the album progresses, and while the instinct to ride a lead one too many times never goes away, it never grows into banality.
Reservations aside, Warlust has a winning formula here. Sol Invictvs in Vmbrae Satanae does indeed sound “huge,” with a mix that serves all instruments without sounding blatantly brickwalled. It has the most present bass I’ve heard in some time, adding sinister rumblings to the albums more dynamic passages, and aiding in its own build to hype during the occasional slowdown. Special attention should be paid to closing track “Black Souls,” as the strongest song on the album. Here is where Warlust unfurls black wings in all their glory, presenting the perfect arrangement of “grand finale”: methodical, deliberate buildup, masterful transitions across motifs, and a final solo that takes up no less than three separate phrases, each building upon the last before collapsing into the albums only moment of genuine shredding virtuosity. If we had an entire album of this quality, I would be tossing caution to the wind and declaring we had an end-of-year list contender on our hands, n00b status be damned. As it is, it confirms the enjoyable recipe the band have concocted and ends on a supreme note of triumph.
In the end, Sol Invictvs in Vmbrae Satanae is a melodic pummeling, with a grand vision, with small stumbles in execution. It isn’t the soundtrack of unrelenting evil, nor is it the blackest album you’re likely to hear as recently as this week. What it is instead is a thunderous, melancholy adventure, rich in stylistic variety and compositional excellence, held back only by album sequencing issues and an overreliance on repetition of motifs. Trimming lengthier passages and tightening the songcraft to the quality of the album’s most excellent moments will ensure that Warlust is ready to storm lists soon enough, and I’ll certainly be looking out for their fourth outing.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: mp3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 27th, 2024#2024 #30 #BlackMetal #DyingVictimsProductions #GermanMetal #Review #Reviews #Sep24 #SolInvictvsInVmbraeSatanae #ThrashMetal #Warlust
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Warlust – Sol Invictvs in Vmbrae Satanae Review
By Steel Druhm
Written By: Nameless_N00b_85
Germany’s Warlust promises a sonic Venn diagram of blackened death/thrash with a grand, epic feel. Toiling away in the underground for a decade, Sol Invictvs in Vmbrae Satanae is their third outing, and to hear their label tell it, they’ve leveled up. The promo attached waxed eloquent about “assaults on the false” and music with “genuine evil blood coursing through its veins.” References to Necrophobic and Dissection, on top of the assurance that the album sounds “HUGE” [sic] tantalizes and entices. Add on descriptions of “Maximum evil, muscular chops,” (they really emphasized the “evil” bit,) and “the blackest of atmosphere” and this n00b couldn’t slam play fast enough. What awaits inside isn’t the hellfire promised but is an enjoyable journey all the same.
Warlust demonstrates a keen sense of song arrangement, and this works their formula to their advantage. Drummer Warmachine is the star of the album, using the guitar’s every repeated melody to vary up his style from expected blackened blasts into cymbal heavy beats into octopus-limbed flourishes ensuring that repetitions never sap the song of momentum. Guitarists/Vocalists Aeon and Necromancer rely on a barrage of trem-picked melodies, repeating enough times for Warmachine to show his chops before deftly switching into a chug-heavy attack or chunky groove. They throw plenty of tricks at the listener, ranging from harmonized solos, (“Serpent Crown”), waltz-time signatures (“Legio! Aeternal! Vitrix!” and “Forgotten Cult of Chronos”) and even bass solos (“The Followless”). Each new riff, clean interlude, and solo is masterfully positioned to flow into each other while contrasting with what came before, passages cascading into one another without ever blending into an opaque mess of sound.
An affinity for dynamics and flare riddle Sol Invictvs in Vmbrae Satanae. In fact, Warlusts determination to constantly keep things fresh ends up impeding the full product from excellence. While there are no riffs or moments here that are individually poor, occasionally it seems Warlust start to vibe to their own material too much and overstep the mark in trying to grab that “epic” feel. A mood-setting interlude comes unexpectedly after a meager two “real songs”, which then flows into a song with its own slow buildup (“…Of Gallows and Absurdity”), rendering its presence superfluous. While deft at making sure they keep things moving enough that no riff ever truly collapses into monotony, some tighter editing would help to make sure each moment contained more punch. “Serpent’s Crown” is the worst offender here, beginning with a hook that drags well past its expiration date, only to be returned to for chorus purposes. Luckily, the songwriting gets stronger as the album progresses, and while the instinct to ride a lead one too many times never goes away, it never grows into banality.
Reservations aside, Warlust has a winning formula here. Sol Invictvs in Vmbrae Satanae does indeed sound “huge,” with a mix that serves all instruments without sounding blatantly brickwalled. It has the most present bass I’ve heard in some time, adding sinister rumblings to the albums more dynamic passages, and aiding in its own build to hype during the occasional slowdown. Special attention should be paid to closing track “Black Souls,” as the strongest song on the album. Here is where Warlust unfurls black wings in all their glory, presenting the perfect arrangement of “grand finale”: methodical, deliberate buildup, masterful transitions across motifs, and a final solo that takes up no less than three separate phrases, each building upon the last before collapsing into the albums only moment of genuine shredding virtuosity. If we had an entire album of this quality, I would be tossing caution to the wind and declaring we had an end-of-year list contender on our hands, n00b status be damned. As it is, it confirms the enjoyable recipe the band have concocted and ends on a supreme note of triumph.
In the end, Sol Invictvs in Vmbrae Satanae is a melodic pummeling, with a grand vision, with small stumbles in execution. It isn’t the soundtrack of unrelenting evil, nor is it the blackest album you’re likely to hear as recently as this week. What it is instead is a thunderous, melancholy adventure, rich in stylistic variety and compositional excellence, held back only by album sequencing issues and an overreliance on repetition of motifs. Trimming lengthier passages and tightening the songcraft to the quality of the album’s most excellent moments will ensure that Warlust is ready to storm lists soon enough, and I’ll certainly be looking out for their fourth outing.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: mp3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 27th, 2024#2024 #30 #BlackMetal #DyingVictimsProductions #GermanMetal #Review #Reviews #Sep24 #SolInvictvsInVmbraeSatanae #ThrashMetal #Warlust
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Warlust – Sol Invictvs in Vmbrae Satanae Review
By Steel Druhm
Written By: Nameless_N00b_85
Germany’s Warlust promises a sonic Venn diagram of blackened death/thrash with a grand, epic feel. Toiling away in the underground for a decade, Sol Invictvs in Vmbrae Satanae is their third outing, and to hear their label tell it, they’ve leveled up. The promo attached waxed eloquent about “assaults on the false” and music with “genuine evil blood coursing through its veins.” References to Necrophobic and Dissection, on top of the assurance that the album sounds “HUGE” [sic] tantalizes and entices. Add on descriptions of “Maximum evil, muscular chops,” (they really emphasized the “evil” bit,) and “the blackest of atmosphere” and this n00b couldn’t slam play fast enough. What awaits inside isn’t the hellfire promised but is an enjoyable journey all the same.
Warlust demonstrates a keen sense of song arrangement, and this works their formula to their advantage. Drummer Warmachine is the star of the album, using the guitar’s every repeated melody to vary up his style from expected blackened blasts into cymbal heavy beats into octopus-limbed flourishes ensuring that repetitions never sap the song of momentum. Guitarists/Vocalists Aeon and Necromancer rely on a barrage of trem-picked melodies, repeating enough times for Warmachine to show his chops before deftly switching into a chug-heavy attack or chunky groove. They throw plenty of tricks at the listener, ranging from harmonized solos, (“Serpent Crown”), waltz-time signatures (“Legio! Aeternal! Vitrix!” and “Forgotten Cult of Chronos”) and even bass solos (“The Followless”). Each new riff, clean interlude, and solo is masterfully positioned to flow into each other while contrasting with what came before, passages cascading into one another without ever blending into an opaque mess of sound.
An affinity for dynamics and flare riddle Sol Invictvs in Vmbrae Satanae. In fact, Warlusts determination to constantly keep things fresh ends up impeding the full product from excellence. While there are no riffs or moments here that are individually poor, occasionally it seems Warlust start to vibe to their own material too much and overstep the mark in trying to grab that “epic” feel. A mood-setting interlude comes unexpectedly after a meager two “real songs”, which then flows into a song with its own slow buildup (“…Of Gallows and Absurdity”), rendering its presence superfluous. While deft at making sure they keep things moving enough that no riff ever truly collapses into monotony, some tighter editing would help to make sure each moment contained more punch. “Serpent’s Crown” is the worst offender here, beginning with a hook that drags well past its expiration date, only to be returned to for chorus purposes. Luckily, the songwriting gets stronger as the album progresses, and while the instinct to ride a lead one too many times never goes away, it never grows into banality.
Reservations aside, Warlust has a winning formula here. Sol Invictvs in Vmbrae Satanae does indeed sound “huge,” with a mix that serves all instruments without sounding blatantly brickwalled. It has the most present bass I’ve heard in some time, adding sinister rumblings to the albums more dynamic passages, and aiding in its own build to hype during the occasional slowdown. Special attention should be paid to closing track “Black Souls,” as the strongest song on the album. Here is where Warlust unfurls black wings in all their glory, presenting the perfect arrangement of “grand finale”: methodical, deliberate buildup, masterful transitions across motifs, and a final solo that takes up no less than three separate phrases, each building upon the last before collapsing into the albums only moment of genuine shredding virtuosity. If we had an entire album of this quality, I would be tossing caution to the wind and declaring we had an end-of-year list contender on our hands, n00b status be damned. As it is, it confirms the enjoyable recipe the band have concocted and ends on a supreme note of triumph.
In the end, Sol Invictvs in Vmbrae Satanae is a melodic pummeling, with a grand vision, with small stumbles in execution. It isn’t the soundtrack of unrelenting evil, nor is it the blackest album you’re likely to hear as recently as this week. What it is instead is a thunderous, melancholy adventure, rich in stylistic variety and compositional excellence, held back only by album sequencing issues and an overreliance on repetition of motifs. Trimming lengthier passages and tightening the songcraft to the quality of the album’s most excellent moments will ensure that Warlust is ready to storm lists soon enough, and I’ll certainly be looking out for their fourth outing.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: mp3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 27th, 2024#2024 #30 #BlackMetal #DyingVictimsProductions #GermanMetal #Review #Reviews #Sep24 #SolInvictvsInVmbraeSatanae #ThrashMetal #Warlust