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Hanging Garden – Isle of Bliss Review

For nearly twenty years, Hanging Garden have quietly dabbled in the same sort of melodic melancholy as their…
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Hanging Garden – Isle of Bliss Review https://www.allforgardening.com/1664332/hanging-garden-isle-of-bliss-review/ #2026 #4.0 #AgoniaRecords #DoomMetal #FinnishMetal #garden #GothicMetal #HangingGarden #Insomnium #IsleOfBliss #Katatonia #Mar26 #MelodicDeathMetal #Review #reviews #SwallowTheSun #Vesseles

Hanging Garden – Isle of Bliss Review https://www.allforgardening.com/1664332/hanging-garden-isle-of-bliss-review/ #2026 #4.0 #AgoniaRecords #DoomMetal #FinnishMetal #garden #GothicMetal #HangingGarden #Insomnium #IsleOfBliss #Katatonia #Mar26 #MelodicDeathMetal #Review #reviews #SwallowTheSun #Vesseles

For nearly twenty years, Hanging Garden have quietly dabbled in the same sort of melodic melancholy as their more well-known counterparts, Katatonia, Insomnium, and Swallow the Sun. I first wandered into their brand of gothic sadboi melodoom with 2021’s Skeleton Lake, thanks to Steel’s glowing writeup. While I’ve enjoyed what I’ve heard from them since, what really hooked me was their 2025 EP, The Unending. They really honed their melodic game, particularly with an incredible hook on “Morgan’s Trail,” and I was hopeful this EP was a sign of a new direction for the band. Well, they do take a new direction, but not quite the one I expected. Despite its cheerful name, Isle of Bliss proves to be a much darker work than you may be accustomed to from this septet. Their newfound darkness opens up layers of depth, proving the band capable of bringing out beauty from even the darkest depths.

Despite the darker direction, Hanging Garden still dabble in a wide range of moods. On Isle of Bliss, they skillfully blend crushing riffs and Toni Hatakka’s deathly, muscular growls with gentle arpeggios and soft croons from Riikka Hatakka. Opener “To Outlive the Nine Ravens” illustrates this perfectly, as it blends dark growls with lovely trem melodies and a gentle duet with some more feel-good trems in an energetic tune that starts the record off right. Isle of Bliss then takes an unsettling turn on “Eternal Trees of Turquoise,” which features a duet of a different nature, where Toni’s menacing growls mix with Riikka’s sinister blackened rasps. Her performance reminded me a lot of the demon vocalist from Vesseles earlier this year, and it is a chilling turn away from the usual foil to Toni’s harsh growls. Things take yet another turn on the appropriately named “Isle of Bliss” and deceptively named “To the Gates of Hel.” These cheerful tunes feature uplifting guitar tones and some wonderfully catchy choruses sure to put your fearful heart at ease. In sum, Isle of Bliss is a moody beast that will hit you in all the feels.

Isle of Bliss by Hanging Garden

Isle of Bliss contains lush beauty thanks to its patient and melodic songwriting. At times, Hanging Garden shines a light through the darkness with soaring choruses and powerful melodic guitar leads that turn gloom into cheer. On “The Blights Nine,” a trem lead dispels the terrifying horror of Riikka’s rasps, while on “Arise, Black Sun,” the guitar melody transforms a growling duet into a piece of blackened beauty. The tremolos and the tour-de-force vocal performances from the Hatakka pair are not the only aspects that elevate the music. Hanging Garden use chugging, thick riffs to cast a doomy pall, whispery synths to invoke dreamy atmospherics, and piano segments to produce feelings of tranquility. All of these elements coalesce on the atmospheric climax, “Her Wailing Light,” whose beautiful chorus is a wonder in a sea of some great moments throughout Isle of Bliss.

As much as I didn’t want this record to end, there are a few areas where Hanging Garden could have done some trimming. “To Outlive the Nine Ravens” and “To the Gates of Hel” creep nearly into the seven-minute range, where their repetitive, formulaic nature begins to grow thin. Yet they are such terrific songs that the desire to stretch them out is forgivable. Perhaps the biggest letdown is the finale, “Beneath the Fallen Sky,” an atmospheric piece that lacks the punch of preceding tracks. “Her Waning Light” feels like a much more appropriate closer, with its emotional trem lead followed by such a tranquil conclusion. “Beneath the Fallen Sky” may fit a narrative arc as a resolution, and it’s really not a bad song, yet I think it’s just in the nature of resolutions to sometimes feel unsatisfying in the wake of highly emotional moments that precede them.

While I am a relative newbie to Hanging Garden, as far as I can tell, Isle of Bliss is their finest achievement to date. The addition of darker aspects to their sound, while remaining true to their roots, brings depth to their songwriting. Almost every song packs a wallop thanks to powerful singing and incredibly catchy and evocative guitar leads. This band poured their heart and soul into this one. It is a stunning record that will leave you in a state of bliss from start to finish.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

For nearly twenty years, Hanging Garden have quietly dabbled in the same sort of melodic melancholy as their more well-known counterparts, Katatonia, Insomnium, and Swallow the Sun. I first wandered into their brand of gothic sadboi melodoom with 2021’s Skeleton Lake, thanks to Steel’s glowing writeup. While I’ve enjoyed what I’ve heard from them since, what really hooked me was their 2025 EP, The Unending. They really honed their melodic game, particularly with an incredible hook on “Morgan’s Trail,” and I was hopeful this EP was a sign of a new direction for the band. Well, they do take a new direction, but not quite the one I expected. Despite its cheerful name, Isle of Bliss proves to be a much darker work than you may be accustomed to from this septet. Their newfound darkness opens up layers of depth, proving the band capable of bringing out beauty from even the darkest depths.

Despite the darker direction, Hanging Garden still dabble in a wide range of moods. On Isle of Bliss, they skillfully blend crushing riffs and Toni Hatakka’s deathly, muscular growls with gentle arpeggios and soft croons from Riikka Hatakka. Opener “To Outlive the Nine Ravens” illustrates this perfectly, as it blends dark growls with lovely trem melodies and a gentle duet with some more feel-good trems in an energetic tune that starts the record off right. Isle of Bliss then takes an unsettling turn on “Eternal Trees of Turquoise,” which features a duet of a different nature, where Toni’s menacing growls mix with Riikka’s sinister blackened rasps. Her performance reminded me a lot of the demon vocalist from Vesseles earlier this year, and it is a chilling turn away from the usual foil to Toni’s harsh growls. Things take yet another turn on the appropriately named “Isle of Bliss” and deceptively named “To the Gates of Hel.” These cheerful tunes feature uplifting guitar tones and some wonderfully catchy choruses sure to put your fearful heart at ease. In sum, Isle of Bliss is a moody beast that will hit you in all the feels.

Isle of Bliss by Hanging Garden

Isle of Bliss contains lush beauty thanks to its patient and melodic songwriting. At times, Hanging Garden shines a light through the darkness with soaring choruses and powerful melodic guitar leads that turn gloom into cheer. On “The Blights Nine,” a trem lead dispels the terrifying horror of Riikka’s rasps, while on “Arise, Black Sun,” the guitar melody transforms a growling duet into a piece of blackened beauty. The tremolos and the tour-de-force vocal performances from the Hatakka pair are not the only aspects that elevate the music. Hanging Garden use chugging, thick riffs to cast a doomy pall, whispery synths to invoke dreamy atmospherics, and piano segments to produce feelings of tranquility. All of these elements coalesce on the atmospheric climax, “Her Wailing Light,” whose beautiful chorus is a wonder in a sea of some great moments throughout Isle of Bliss.

As much as I didn’t want this record to end, there are a few areas where Hanging Garden could have done some trimming. “To Outlive the Nine Ravens” and “To the Gates of Hel” creep nearly into the seven-minute range, where their repetitive, formulaic nature begins to grow thin. Yet they are such terrific songs that the desire to stretch them out is forgivable. Perhaps the biggest letdown is the finale, “Beneath the Fallen Sky,” an atmospheric piece that lacks the punch of preceding tracks. “Her Waning Light” feels like a much more appropriate closer, with its emotional trem lead followed by such a tranquil conclusion. “Beneath the Fallen Sky” may fit a narrative arc as a resolution, and it’s really not a bad song, yet I think it’s just in the nature of resolutions to sometimes feel unsatisfying in the wake of highly emotional moments that precede them.

While I am a relative newbie to Hanging Garden, as far as I can tell, Isle of Bliss is their finest achievement to date. The addition of darker aspects to their sound, while remaining true to their roots, brings depth to their songwriting. Almost every song packs a wallop thanks to powerful singing and incredibly catchy and evocative guitar leads. This band poured their heart and soul into this one. It is a stunning record that will leave you in a state of bliss from start to finish.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

For nearly twenty years, Hanging Garden have quietly dabbled in the same sort of melodic melancholy as their more well-known counterparts, Katatonia, Insomnium, and Swallow the Sun. I first wandered into their brand of gothic sadboi melodoom with 2021’s Skeleton Lake, thanks to Steel’s glowing writeup. While I’ve enjoyed what I’ve heard from them since, what really hooked me was their 2025 EP, The Unending. They really honed their melodic game, particularly with an incredible hook on “Morgan’s Trail,” and I was hopeful this EP was a sign of a new direction for the band. Well, they do take a new direction, but not quite the one I expected. Despite its cheerful name, Isle of Bliss proves to be a much darker work than you may be accustomed to from this septet. Their newfound darkness opens up layers of depth, proving the band capable of bringing out beauty from even the darkest depths.

Despite the darker direction, Hanging Garden still dabble in a wide range of moods. On Isle of Bliss, they skillfully blend crushing riffs and Toni Hatakka’s deathly, muscular growls with gentle arpeggios and soft croons from Riikka Hatakka. Opener “To Outlive the Nine Ravens” illustrates this perfectly, as it blends dark growls with lovely trem melodies and a gentle duet with some more feel-good trems in an energetic tune that starts the record off right. Isle of Bliss then takes an unsettling turn on “Eternal Trees of Turquoise,” which features a duet of a different nature, where Toni’s menacing growls mix with Riikka’s sinister blackened rasps. Her performance reminded me a lot of the demon vocalist from Vesseles earlier this year, and it is a chilling turn away from the usual foil to Toni’s harsh growls. Things take yet another turn on the appropriately named “Isle of Bliss” and deceptively named “To the Gates of Hel.” These cheerful tunes feature uplifting guitar tones and some wonderfully catchy choruses sure to put your fearful heart at ease. In sum, Isle of Bliss is a moody beast that will hit you in all the feels.

Isle of Bliss by Hanging Garden

Isle of Bliss contains lush beauty thanks to its patient and melodic songwriting. At times, Hanging Garden shines a light through the darkness with soaring choruses and powerful melodic guitar leads that turn gloom into cheer. On “The Blights Nine,” a trem lead dispels the terrifying horror of Riikka’s rasps, while on “Arise, Black Sun,” the guitar melody transforms a growling duet into a piece of blackened beauty. The tremolos and the tour-de-force vocal performances from the Hatakka pair are not the only aspects that elevate the music. Hanging Garden use chugging, thick riffs to cast a doomy pall, whispery synths to invoke dreamy atmospherics, and piano segments to produce feelings of tranquility. All of these elements coalesce on the atmospheric climax, “Her Wailing Light,” whose beautiful chorus is a wonder in a sea of some great moments throughout Isle of Bliss.

As much as I didn’t want this record to end, there are a few areas where Hanging Garden could have done some trimming. “To Outlive the Nine Ravens” and “To the Gates of Hel” creep nearly into the seven-minute range, where their repetitive, formulaic nature begins to grow thin. Yet they are such terrific songs that the desire to stretch them out is forgivable. Perhaps the biggest letdown is the finale, “Beneath the Fallen Sky,” an atmospheric piece that lacks the punch of preceding tracks. “Her Waning Light” feels like a much more appropriate closer, with its emotional trem lead followed by such a tranquil conclusion. “Beneath the Fallen Sky” may fit a narrative arc as a resolution, and it’s really not a bad song, yet I think it’s just in the nature of resolutions to sometimes feel unsatisfying in the wake of highly emotional moments that precede them.

While I am a relative newbie to Hanging Garden, as far as I can tell, Isle of Bliss is their finest achievement to date. The addition of darker aspects to their sound, while remaining true to their roots, brings depth to their songwriting. Almost every song packs a wallop thanks to powerful singing and incredibly catchy and evocative guitar leads. This band poured their heart and soul into this one. It is a stunning record that will leave you in a state of bliss from start to finish.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

For nearly twenty years, Hanging Garden have quietly dabbled in the same sort of melodic melancholy as their more well-known counterparts, Katatonia, Insomnium, and Swallow the Sun. I first wandered into their brand of gothic sadboi melodoom with 2021’s Skeleton Lake, thanks to Steel’s glowing writeup. While I’ve enjoyed what I’ve heard from them since, what really hooked me was their 2025 EP, The Unending. They really honed their melodic game, particularly with an incredible hook on “Morgan’s Trail,” and I was hopeful this EP was a sign of a new direction for the band. Well, they do take a new direction, but not quite the one I expected. Despite its cheerful name, Isle of Bliss proves to be a much darker work than you may be accustomed to from this septet. Their newfound darkness opens up layers of depth, proving the band capable of bringing out beauty from even the darkest depths.

Despite the darker direction, Hanging Garden still dabble in a wide range of moods. On Isle of Bliss, they skillfully blend crushing riffs and Toni Hatakka’s deathly, muscular growls with gentle arpeggios and soft croons from Riikka Hatakka. Opener “To Outlive the Nine Ravens” illustrates this perfectly, as it blends dark growls with lovely trem melodies and a gentle duet with some more feel-good trems in an energetic tune that starts the record off right. Isle of Bliss then takes an unsettling turn on “Eternal Trees of Turquoise,” which features a duet of a different nature, where Toni’s menacing growls mix with Riikka’s sinister blackened rasps. Her performance reminded me a lot of the demon vocalist from Vesseles earlier this year, and it is a chilling turn away from the usual foil to Toni’s harsh growls. Things take yet another turn on the appropriately named “Isle of Bliss” and deceptively named “To the Gates of Hel.” These cheerful tunes feature uplifting guitar tones and some wonderfully catchy choruses sure to put your fearful heart at ease. In sum, Isle of Bliss is a moody beast that will hit you in all the feels.

Isle of Bliss by Hanging Garden

Isle of Bliss contains lush beauty thanks to its patient and melodic songwriting. At times, Hanging Garden shines a light through the darkness with soaring choruses and powerful melodic guitar leads that turn gloom into cheer. On “The Blights Nine,” a trem lead dispels the terrifying horror of Riikka’s rasps, while on “Arise, Black Sun,” the guitar melody transforms a growling duet into a piece of blackened beauty. The tremolos and the tour-de-force vocal performances from the Hatakka pair are not the only aspects that elevate the music. Hanging Garden use chugging, thick riffs to cast a doomy pall, whispery synths to invoke dreamy atmospherics, and piano segments to produce feelings of tranquility. All of these elements coalesce on the atmospheric climax, “Her Wailing Light,” whose beautiful chorus is a wonder in a sea of some great moments throughout Isle of Bliss.

As much as I didn’t want this record to end, there are a few areas where Hanging Garden could have done some trimming. “To Outlive the Nine Ravens” and “To the Gates of Hel” creep nearly into the seven-minute range, where their repetitive, formulaic nature begins to grow thin. Yet they are such terrific songs that the desire to stretch them out is forgivable. Perhaps the biggest letdown is the finale, “Beneath the Fallen Sky,” an atmospheric piece that lacks the punch of preceding tracks. “Her Waning Light” feels like a much more appropriate closer, with its emotional trem lead followed by such a tranquil conclusion. “Beneath the Fallen Sky” may fit a narrative arc as a resolution, and it’s really not a bad song, yet I think it’s just in the nature of resolutions to sometimes feel unsatisfying in the wake of highly emotional moments that precede them.

While I am a relative newbie to Hanging Garden, as far as I can tell, Isle of Bliss is their finest achievement to date. The addition of darker aspects to their sound, while remaining true to their roots, brings depth to their songwriting. Almost every song packs a wallop thanks to powerful singing and incredibly catchy and evocative guitar leads. This band poured their heart and soul into this one. It is a stunning record that will leave you in a state of bliss from start to finish.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

For nearly twenty years, Hanging Garden have quietly dabbled in the same sort of melodic melancholy as their more well-known counterparts, Katatonia, Insomnium, and Swallow the Sun. I first wandered into their brand of gothic sadboi melodoom with 2021’s Skeleton Lake, thanks to Steel’s glowing writeup. While I’ve enjoyed what I’ve heard from them since, what really hooked me was their 2025 EP, The Unending. They really honed their melodic game, particularly with an incredible hook on “Morgan’s Trail,” and I was hopeful this EP was a sign of a new direction for the band. Well, they do take a new direction, but not quite the one I expected. Despite its cheerful name, Isle of Bliss proves to be a much darker work than you may be accustomed to from this septet. Their newfound darkness opens up layers of depth, proving the band capable of bringing out beauty from even the darkest depths.

Despite the darker direction, Hanging Garden still dabble in a wide range of moods. On Isle of Bliss, they skillfully blend crushing riffs and Toni Hatakka’s deathly, muscular growls with gentle arpeggios and soft croons from Riikka Hatakka. Opener “To Outlive the Nine Ravens” illustrates this perfectly, as it blends dark growls with lovely trem melodies and a gentle duet with some more feel-good trems in an energetic tune that starts the record off right. Isle of Bliss then takes an unsettling turn on “Eternal Trees of Turquoise,” which features a duet of a different nature, where Toni’s menacing growls mix with Riikka’s sinister blackened rasps. Her performance reminded me a lot of the demon vocalist from Vesseles earlier this year, and it is a chilling turn away from the usual foil to Toni’s harsh growls. Things take yet another turn on the appropriately named “Isle of Bliss” and deceptively named “To the Gates of Hel.” These cheerful tunes feature uplifting guitar tones and some wonderfully catchy choruses sure to put your fearful heart at ease. In sum, Isle of Bliss is a moody beast that will hit you in all the feels.

Isle of Bliss by Hanging Garden

Isle of Bliss contains lush beauty thanks to its patient and melodic songwriting. At times, Hanging Garden shines a light through the darkness with soaring choruses and powerful melodic guitar leads that turn gloom into cheer. On “The Blights Nine,” a trem lead dispels the terrifying horror of Riikka’s rasps, while on “Arise, Black Sun,” the guitar melody transforms a growling duet into a piece of blackened beauty. The tremolos and the tour-de-force vocal performances from the Hatakka pair are not the only aspects that elevate the music. Hanging Garden use chugging, thick riffs to cast a doomy pall, whispery synths to invoke dreamy atmospherics, and piano segments to produce feelings of tranquility. All of these elements coalesce on the atmospheric climax, “Her Wailing Light,” whose beautiful chorus is a wonder in a sea of some great moments throughout Isle of Bliss.

As much as I didn’t want this record to end, there are a few areas where Hanging Garden could have done some trimming. “To Outlive the Nine Ravens” and “To the Gates of Hel” creep nearly into the seven-minute range, where their repetitive, formulaic nature begins to grow thin. Yet they are such terrific songs that the desire to stretch them out is forgivable. Perhaps the biggest letdown is the finale, “Beneath the Fallen Sky,” an atmospheric piece that lacks the punch of preceding tracks. “Her Waning Light” feels like a much more appropriate closer, with its emotional trem lead followed by such a tranquil conclusion. “Beneath the Fallen Sky” may fit a narrative arc as a resolution, and it’s really not a bad song, yet I think it’s just in the nature of resolutions to sometimes feel unsatisfying in the wake of highly emotional moments that precede them.

While I am a relative newbie to Hanging Garden, as far as I can tell, Isle of Bliss is their finest achievement to date. The addition of darker aspects to their sound, while remaining true to their roots, brings depth to their songwriting. Almost every song packs a wallop thanks to powerful singing and incredibly catchy and evocative guitar leads. This band poured their heart and soul into this one. It is a stunning record that will leave you in a state of bliss from start to finish.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

ALBUM REVIEW: Isle Of Bliss – Hanging Garden https://www.allforgardening.com/1662983/album-review-isle-of-bliss-hanging-garden/ #AgoniaRecords #garden #HangingGarden #IsleOfBliss

ALBUM REVIEW: Isle Of Bliss – Hanging Garden https://www.allforgardening.com/1662983/album-review-isle-of-bliss-hanging-garden/ #AgoniaRecords #garden #HangingGarden #IsleOfBliss

https://www.europesays.com/nl/97221/ Malefic Throne – The Conquering Darkness #2025 #AgoniaRecords #albumreview #Amusement #angelcorpse #DeathMetal #Dutch #Entertainment #HateEternal #MaleficThrone #MorbidAngel #Music #Muziek #Nederland #Nederlanden #Nederlands #Netherlands #NL #origin #recensie #TheConqueringDarkness #ZwareMetalen

Beheaded – Għadam Review

By Dear Hollow

I’m not sure which is worse: to release terrible or forgettable albums. Unfortunately for Maltese death metal outfit Beheaded, it has been the latter for the vast majority of their career. Always releasing competent material but nothing that sticks, their tenure within these hallowed halls has been rife with mediocrity, both 2017’s Beast Incarnate and 2019’s Only Death Can Save You lauded acknowledged for sounding like brutal death metal by the inimitable Kronos – the definition of “mixed” territory. Even 1998 highlight Perpetual Mockery has been covered up by the sands of time. This is precisely why Għadam is such a monumental release for this death metal stalwarts.

For Għadam, Beheaded becomes “il-kittieb” of their own horror – both lyrically and musically. Nearly forsaking all brutal tendencies without sacrificing its bite, the quintet focuses instead on channeling its heritage. The songs are entirely in Maltese, each track named after and capturing the storytelling of local horror writer Anton Grasso:1 the songs grapple with folk horror, local struggles, and the supernatural, and reflect the nation’s troubled history with religion and Christianity. For the first time in Beheaded’s history, it feels as though the band is writing their own music rather than regurgitating what brutal death ought to sound like. While the album is imperfect, Għadam is a motion from a band previously stuck in the muck of their own habits to rise from the dead and make the future bright again.

While elements of Beheaded’s brutal death peak through periodically, Għadam is remarkably atmospheric and dread-inducing. Drawing from Maltese folk music, the melodies here give an otherworldly flare, conjuring horrors both tangible and surreal. While the opening title track and the concluding instrumental “Irmied” feature harp guitar that sets the tone for a more focused and streamlined affair, the meat of Għadam is ominous, dense, and foreboding. From dirging riffs layered with doomed menace and vicious vocals (title track, “Iħirsa”), the kickass guitar work amplified by wild solos (“Iljieli bla qamar,” “Jidħaq il-lejl”), or the blackened tremolo and subtle synths that add a whole new dimension of intensity (“B’niket inħabbru l-mewt,” “Ix-xjaten ta’ moħħi”), riffy motifs and haunted leads are streamlined and consistent across the board. Cleans are used sparingly, but utilize a mournful mumble that adds to the desolation of the atmosphere. Ultimately, Beheaded feels reborn into a sound that feels very much theirs, despite newfound comparisons to God Dethroned, Belphegor, and Angelcorpse.

Given highlights and individual song identity, the structure of Għadam feels more intentional than Beheaded has offered before. Most notably, the track “Il-kittieb” serves as a centerpiece not only for being the fifth track in the nine-track album, but as a sonic eye of the storm; while it utilizes the same tricks as its surrounding tracks, they are weaponized in a slow-building crescendo whose climax serves as the most satisfying moment of the album. Intertwined dissonant leads and ethereal solos collide in a 6/8 timing that feels like a waltz through hell. Even last full song “Jidħaq il-lejl” feels like a culmination of the two tracks preceding it, a riffy and ominous trek through dark territory. This structure makes it easy to forget the weak links, such as the frenetic and anchorless (“Xtrajt l-infern”) or the forgettable (“B’niket inħabbru l-mewt,” “Iħirsa”). The spoken word passages scattered throughout are also hit or miss.

Beheaded has forsaken their long-time forgettable signature in favor of something that ironically suits them better. Għadam is imperfect in its experimentation, but is surprisingly realized regardless, a consistent thread of viciousness and menace woven into all its movements gives exposure to its homeland, a culture tragically neglected in the annals of history. While “Maltese death metal” would have traditionally conjured images of brutal death’s relentless pummeling in Beheaded or Abysmal Torment, Għadam’s sinister and atmospheric approach to blackened death metal tinged with local dark lore and haunting melodics, even if imperfect, sets Beheaded out onto a new and unforgettable path.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Website: facebook.com/BeheadedMT
Releases Worldwide: July 25th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AbysmalTorment #AgoniaRecords #Angelcorpse #Beheaded #Belphegor #BlackenedDeathMetal #BrutalDeathMetal #DeathMetal #Għadam #GodDethroned #Jul25 #MalteseMetal #Review #Reviews

Beheaded – Għadam Review

By Dear Hollow

I’m not sure which is worse: to release terrible or forgettable albums. Unfortunately for Maltese death metal outfit Beheaded, it has been the latter for the vast majority of their career. Always releasing competent material but nothing that sticks, their tenure within these hallowed halls has been rife with mediocrity, both 2017’s Beast Incarnate and 2019’s Only Death Can Save You lauded acknowledged for sounding like brutal death metal by the inimitable Kronos – the definition of “mixed” territory. Even 1998 highlight Perpetual Mockery has been covered up by the sands of time. This is precisely why Għadam is such a monumental release for this death metal stalwarts.

For Għadam, Beheaded becomes “il-kittieb” of their own horror – both lyrically and musically. Nearly forsaking all brutal tendencies without sacrificing its bite, the quintet focuses instead on channeling its heritage. The songs are entirely in Maltese, each track named after and capturing the storytelling of local horror writer Anton Grasso:1 the songs grapple with folk horror, local struggles, and the supernatural, and reflect the nation’s troubled history with religion and Christianity. For the first time in Beheaded’s history, it feels as though the band is writing their own music rather than regurgitating what brutal death ought to sound like. While the album is imperfect, Għadam is a motion from a band previously stuck in the muck of their own habits to rise from the dead and make the future bright again.

While elements of Beheaded’s brutal death peak through periodically, Għadam is remarkably atmospheric and dread-inducing. Drawing from Maltese folk music, the melodies here give an otherworldly flare, conjuring horrors both tangible and surreal. While the opening title track and the concluding instrumental “Irmied” feature harp guitar that sets the tone for a more focused and streamlined affair, the meat of Għadam is ominous, dense, and foreboding. From dirging riffs layered with doomed menace and vicious vocals (title track, “Iħirsa”), the kickass guitar work amplified by wild solos (“Iljieli bla qamar,” “Jidħaq il-lejl”), or the blackened tremolo and subtle synths that add a whole new dimension of intensity (“B’niket inħabbru l-mewt,” “Ix-xjaten ta’ moħħi”), riffy motifs and haunted leads are streamlined and consistent across the board. Cleans are used sparingly, but utilize a mournful mumble that adds to the desolation of the atmosphere. Ultimately, Beheaded feels reborn into a sound that feels very much theirs, despite newfound comparisons to God Dethroned, Belphegor, and Angelcorpse.

Given highlights and individual song identity, the structure of Għadam feels more intentional than Beheaded has offered before. Most notably, the track “Il-kittieb” serves as a centerpiece not only for being the fifth track in the nine-track album, but as a sonic eye of the storm; while it utilizes the same tricks as its surrounding tracks, they are weaponized in a slow-building crescendo whose climax serves as the most satisfying moment of the album. Intertwined dissonant leads and ethereal solos collide in a 6/8 timing that feels like a waltz through hell. Even last full song “Jidħaq il-lejl” feels like a culmination of the two tracks preceding it, a riffy and ominous trek through dark territory. This structure makes it easy to forget the weak links, such as the frenetic and anchorless (“Xtrajt l-infern”) or the forgettable (“B’niket inħabbru l-mewt,” “Iħirsa”). The spoken word passages scattered throughout are also hit or miss.

Beheaded has forsaken their long-time forgettable signature in favor of something that ironically suits them better. Għadam is imperfect in its experimentation, but is surprisingly realized regardless, a consistent thread of viciousness and menace woven into all its movements gives exposure to its homeland, a culture tragically neglected in the annals of history. While “Maltese death metal” would have traditionally conjured images of brutal death’s relentless pummeling in Beheaded or Abysmal Torment, Għadam’s sinister and atmospheric approach to blackened death metal tinged with local dark lore and haunting melodics, even if imperfect, sets Beheaded out onto a new and unforgettable path.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Website: facebook.com/BeheadedMT
Releases Worldwide: July 25th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AbysmalTorment #AgoniaRecords #Angelcorpse #Beheaded #Belphegor #BlackenedDeathMetal #BrutalDeathMetal #DeathMetal #Għadam #GodDethroned #Jul25 #MalteseMetal #Review #Reviews

Beheaded – Għadam Review

By Dear Hollow

I’m not sure which is worse: to release terrible or forgettable albums. Unfortunately for Maltese death metal outfit Beheaded, it has been the latter for the vast majority of their career. Always releasing competent material but nothing that sticks, their tenure within these hallowed halls has been rife with mediocrity, both 2017’s Beast Incarnate and 2019’s Only Death Can Save You lauded acknowledged for sounding like brutal death metal by the inimitable Kronos – the definition of “mixed” territory. Even 1998 highlight Perpetual Mockery has been covered up by the sands of time. This is precisely why Għadam is such a monumental release for this death metal stalwarts.

For Għadam, Beheaded becomes “il-kittieb” of their own horror – both lyrically and musically. Nearly forsaking all brutal tendencies without sacrificing its bite, the quintet focuses instead on channeling its heritage. The songs are entirely in Maltese, each track named after and capturing the storytelling of local horror writer Anton Grasso:1 the songs grapple with folk horror, local struggles, and the supernatural, and reflect the nation’s troubled history with religion and Christianity. For the first time in Beheaded’s history, it feels as though the band is writing their own music rather than regurgitating what brutal death ought to sound like. While the album is imperfect, Għadam is a motion from a band previously stuck in the muck of their own habits to rise from the dead and make the future bright again.

While elements of Beheaded’s brutal death peak through periodically, Għadam is remarkably atmospheric and dread-inducing. Drawing from Maltese folk music, the melodies here give an otherworldly flare, conjuring horrors both tangible and surreal. While the opening title track and the concluding instrumental “Irmied” feature harp guitar that sets the tone for a more focused and streamlined affair, the meat of Għadam is ominous, dense, and foreboding. From dirging riffs layered with doomed menace and vicious vocals (title track, “Iħirsa”), the kickass guitar work amplified by wild solos (“Iljieli bla qamar,” “Jidħaq il-lejl”), or the blackened tremolo and subtle synths that add a whole new dimension of intensity (“B’niket inħabbru l-mewt,” “Ix-xjaten ta’ moħħi”), riffy motifs and haunted leads are streamlined and consistent across the board. Cleans are used sparingly, but utilize a mournful mumble that adds to the desolation of the atmosphere. Ultimately, Beheaded feels reborn into a sound that feels very much theirs, despite newfound comparisons to God Dethroned, Belphegor, and Angelcorpse.

Given highlights and individual song identity, the structure of Għadam feels more intentional than Beheaded has offered before. Most notably, the track “Il-kittieb” serves as a centerpiece not only for being the fifth track in the nine-track album, but as a sonic eye of the storm; while it utilizes the same tricks as its surrounding tracks, they are weaponized in a slow-building crescendo whose climax serves as the most satisfying moment of the album. Intertwined dissonant leads and ethereal solos collide in a 6/8 timing that feels like a waltz through hell. Even last full song “Jidħaq il-lejl” feels like a culmination of the two tracks preceding it, a riffy and ominous trek through dark territory. This structure makes it easy to forget the weak links, such as the frenetic and anchorless (“Xtrajt l-infern”) or the forgettable (“B’niket inħabbru l-mewt,” “Iħirsa”). The spoken word passages scattered throughout are also hit or miss.

Beheaded has forsaken their long-time forgettable signature in favor of something that ironically suits them better. Għadam is imperfect in its experimentation, but is surprisingly realized regardless, a consistent thread of viciousness and menace woven into all its movements gives exposure to its homeland, a culture tragically neglected in the annals of history. While “Maltese death metal” would have traditionally conjured images of brutal death’s relentless pummeling in Beheaded or Abysmal Torment, Għadam’s sinister and atmospheric approach to blackened death metal tinged with local dark lore and haunting melodics, even if imperfect, sets Beheaded out onto a new and unforgettable path.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Website: facebook.com/BeheadedMT
Releases Worldwide: July 25th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AbysmalTorment #AgoniaRecords #Angelcorpse #Beheaded #Belphegor #BlackenedDeathMetal #BrutalDeathMetal #DeathMetal #Għadam #GodDethroned #Jul25 #MalteseMetal #Review #Reviews

Beheaded – Għadam Review

By Dear Hollow

I’m not sure which is worse: to release terrible or forgettable albums. Unfortunately for Maltese death metal outfit Beheaded, it has been the latter for the vast majority of their career. Always releasing competent material but nothing that sticks, their tenure within these hallowed halls has been rife with mediocrity, both 2017’s Beast Incarnate and 2019’s Only Death Can Save You lauded acknowledged for sounding like brutal death metal by the inimitable Kronos – the definition of “mixed” territory. Even 1998 highlight Perpetual Mockery has been covered up by the sands of time. This is precisely why Għadam is such a monumental release for this death metal stalwarts.

For Għadam, Beheaded becomes “il-kittieb” of their own horror – both lyrically and musically. Nearly forsaking all brutal tendencies without sacrificing its bite, the quintet focuses instead on channeling its heritage. The songs are entirely in Maltese, each track named after and capturing the storytelling of local horror writer Anton Grasso:1 the songs grapple with folk horror, local struggles, and the supernatural, and reflect the nation’s troubled history with religion and Christianity. For the first time in Beheaded’s history, it feels as though the band is writing their own music rather than regurgitating what brutal death ought to sound like. While the album is imperfect, Għadam is a motion from a band previously stuck in the muck of their own habits to rise from the dead and make the future bright again.

While elements of Beheaded’s brutal death peak through periodically, Għadam is remarkably atmospheric and dread-inducing. Drawing from Maltese folk music, the melodies here give an otherworldly flare, conjuring horrors both tangible and surreal. While the opening title track and the concluding instrumental “Irmied” feature harp guitar that sets the tone for a more focused and streamlined affair, the meat of Għadam is ominous, dense, and foreboding. From dirging riffs layered with doomed menace and vicious vocals (title track, “Iħirsa”), the kickass guitar work amplified by wild solos (“Iljieli bla qamar,” “Jidħaq il-lejl”), or the blackened tremolo and subtle synths that add a whole new dimension of intensity (“B’niket inħabbru l-mewt,” “Ix-xjaten ta’ moħħi”), riffy motifs and haunted leads are streamlined and consistent across the board. Cleans are used sparingly, but utilize a mournful mumble that adds to the desolation of the atmosphere. Ultimately, Beheaded feels reborn into a sound that feels very much theirs, despite newfound comparisons to God Dethroned, Belphegor, and Angelcorpse.

Given highlights and individual song identity, the structure of Għadam feels more intentional than Beheaded has offered before. Most notably, the track “Il-kittieb” serves as a centerpiece not only for being the fifth track in the nine-track album, but as a sonic eye of the storm; while it utilizes the same tricks as its surrounding tracks, they are weaponized in a slow-building crescendo whose climax serves as the most satisfying moment of the album. Intertwined dissonant leads and ethereal solos collide in a 6/8 timing that feels like a waltz through hell. Even last full song “Jidħaq il-lejl” feels like a culmination of the two tracks preceding it, a riffy and ominous trek through dark territory. This structure makes it easy to forget the weak links, such as the frenetic and anchorless (“Xtrajt l-infern”) or the forgettable (“B’niket inħabbru l-mewt,” “Iħirsa”). The spoken word passages scattered throughout are also hit or miss.

Beheaded has forsaken their long-time forgettable signature in favor of something that ironically suits them better. Għadam is imperfect in its experimentation, but is surprisingly realized regardless, a consistent thread of viciousness and menace woven into all its movements gives exposure to its homeland, a culture tragically neglected in the annals of history. While “Maltese death metal” would have traditionally conjured images of brutal death’s relentless pummeling in Beheaded or Abysmal Torment, Għadam’s sinister and atmospheric approach to blackened death metal tinged with local dark lore and haunting melodics, even if imperfect, sets Beheaded out onto a new and unforgettable path.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Website: facebook.com/BeheadedMT
Releases Worldwide: July 25th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AbysmalTorment #AgoniaRecords #Angelcorpse #Beheaded #Belphegor #BlackenedDeathMetal #BrutalDeathMetal #DeathMetal #Għadam #GodDethroned #Jul25 #MalteseMetal #Review #Reviews

Abigail Williams – A Void Within Existence Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

After dropping a new album last year under his Nachtmystium moniker, I had a sneaky suspicion Ken Sorceron would bless us with a new Abigail Williams record this year. And, sure as shit, A Void Within Existence is here. I’ve been covering this outfit for some time now, thankfully, after their spell in the metalcore realm. And each new album continues to push new boundaries, inching closer to grabbing the counter by the balls and dragging it through blackened muck. While some would disagree, 2019’s Walk Beyond the Dark was a brilliant record that might arguably be the band’s best work. That sets a new bar for this ever-evolving group that, I can only assume, becomes more difficult to overtake with each new album and the swinging door of lineup changes and guest appearances. At least for now, the arsenal Sorceron surrounds himself with on A Void Within Existence is a tight group that meshes nicely together. But will this new record deliver the goods and bitch-slap the counter?

One of the best guests on this year’s release is Mike Heller (Changeling, Malignancy, Raven, and a thousand other fucking bands) on drums. Heller brings the intensity that adds layers of depth to A Void Within Existence, which are rarely found on the band’s previous albums. John Porada’s1 prowess also does wonders to the bass-heavy songwriting of Abigail Williams. Complete it with Vale of Pnath’s Vance Valenzuela on guitar, and we have one of the best Abigail Williams lineups. A Void Within Existence sets this foursome down a road of wreckage that can either end in annihilation or perfection. And it all weighs on the songwriting, performances, production, and, well… everything involved in crafting a release, especially with the depth involved in the lyrics and musical direction. Let’s see if I start crying.

A Void Within Existence wastes no time getting off the ground as it explodes with a heavy-bass assault and a murky, dissonant riff. It eventually settles into a groove as the spitting, slathering vocals arrive, supported powerfully by thundering backing vocals. Oddly enough, the pace and vocal arrangements evoke Hypocrisy. But things really get moving with the follow-up track, “Void Within.” Heller’s drum work, in particular, is the perfect teaser of what’s to come on later tracks. After opening with a meloblack passage, the razor-sharp riffs intensify around Sorceron’s vicious rasps. For nearly six minutes, this conglomeration of crushing black riffs, touches of orchestration, and absolute sinisterness paints a picture of sheer darkness. With wild guitar leads, impressive drum work, and a climax to make it worth the journey, “Void Within” is one of the most rounded ditties on the record.

But the best tracks on the album are “Talk to Your Sleep” and the closing number, “No Less than Death.” Seven months into the year, “Talk to Your Sleep” threatens to be my song o’ the year for 2025. This thing is nothing like anything I’ve ever heard from the band. Bass and drum-led, the crushing riff that springs up throughout is arguably the most memorable and headbangable thing ever to come from Abigail Williams. After cracking pavement with its mid-paced approach, it swings back around to begin again, this time with some punching vocals that are further emphasized by the guitars and drums. Then, Porada’s disgusting bass wakes the beast once more as we headbang to the end. Like Walk Beyond the Dark’s “The Final Failure,” “No Less than Death” is a surprising piece that shows Sorceron continuing to push his limits as a vocalist. While “The Final Failure” teased at some clean vocals, while retaining the rasp as the lead, “No Less than Death” goes all out with soaring, soothing cleans and rasping support. This atmospheric beauty takes us along valleys and hills that never end, and, when you thought you’d heard everything this song could offer, it concludes with beautiful, old-school solo work that, depending on your mood, leaves you hopelessly depressed or naively optimistic

After a dozen listens, I can’t find much on A Void Within Existence that makes me unhappy. While it’s compressed, the production still allows all the instruments to lend their weight to the end product. There could be a bit more bass in places, but it’s made up for by the slick drum mix. And, surprisingly enough, the clean vocals are far more forward in the mix than the previous album, which is pleasant to hear. The most predictable track on the album is “Nonexistence,” but it’s a solid, slower piece that draws you into the album’s sad theme. Letting the songwriting brew for the last six years has done A Void Within Existence well. It’s a repeatable record that requires multiple listens to explore every nook and cranny. Knowing the history of the band and its lineup changes, I hope Sorceron can bring these gents back in the future, because this might be the best they’ve ever been.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kb/s mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: facebook.com/abigailwilliamsband
Releases Worldwide: July 18th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AbigailWilliams #AgoniaRecords #AmericanMetal #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BearMace #BlackMetal #Changeling #Hypocrisy #Jul25 #Malignancy #Nachtmystium #Raven #Review #Reviews #ValeOfPnath

Abigail Williams – A Void Within Existence Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

After dropping a new album last year under his Nachtmystium moniker, I had a sneaky suspicion Ken Sorceron would bless us with a new Abigail Williams record this year. And, sure as shit, A Void Within Existence is here. I’ve been covering this outfit for some time now, thankfully, after their spell in the metalcore realm. And each new album continues to push new boundaries, inching closer to grabbing the counter by the balls and dragging it through blackened muck. While some would disagree, 2019’s Walk Beyond the Dark was a brilliant record that might arguably be the band’s best work. That sets a new bar for this ever-evolving group that, I can only assume, becomes more difficult to overtake with each new album and the swinging door of lineup changes and guest appearances. At least for now, the arsenal Sorceron surrounds himself with on A Void Within Existence is a tight group that meshes nicely together. But will this new record deliver the goods and bitch-slap the counter?

One of the best guests on this year’s release is Mike Heller (Changeling, Malignancy, Raven, and a thousand other fucking bands) on drums. Heller brings the intensity that adds layers of depth to A Void Within Existence, which are rarely found on the band’s previous albums. John Porada’s1 prowess also does wonders to the bass-heavy songwriting of Abigail Williams. Complete it with Vale of Pnath’s Vance Valenzuela on guitar, and we have one of the best Abigail Williams lineups. A Void Within Existence sets this foursome down a road of wreckage that can either end in annihilation or perfection. And it all weighs on the songwriting, performances, production, and, well… everything involved in crafting a release, especially with the depth involved in the lyrics and musical direction. Let’s see if I start crying.

A Void Within Existence wastes no time getting off the ground as it explodes with a heavy-bass assault and a murky, dissonant riff. It eventually settles into a groove as the spitting, slathering vocals arrive, supported powerfully by thundering backing vocals. Oddly enough, the pace and vocal arrangements evoke Hypocrisy. But things really get moving with the follow-up track, “Void Within.” Heller’s drum work, in particular, is the perfect teaser of what’s to come on later tracks. After opening with a meloblack passage, the razor-sharp riffs intensify around Sorceron’s vicious rasps. For nearly six minutes, this conglomeration of crushing black riffs, touches of orchestration, and absolute sinisterness paints a picture of sheer darkness. With wild guitar leads, impressive drum work, and a climax to make it worth the journey, “Void Within” is one of the most rounded ditties on the record.

But the best tracks on the album are “Talk to Your Sleep” and the closing number, “No Less than Death.” Seven months into the year, “Talk to Your Sleep” threatens to be my song o’ the year for 2025. This thing is nothing like anything I’ve ever heard from the band. Bass and drum-led, the crushing riff that springs up throughout is arguably the most memorable and headbangable thing ever to come from Abigail Williams. After cracking pavement with its mid-paced approach, it swings back around to begin again, this time with some punching vocals that are further emphasized by the guitars and drums. Then, Porada’s disgusting bass wakes the beast once more as we headbang to the end. Like Walk Beyond the Dark’s “The Final Failure,” “No Less than Death” is a surprising piece that shows Sorceron continuing to push his limits as a vocalist. While “The Final Failure” teased at some clean vocals, while retaining the rasp as the lead, “No Less than Death” goes all out with soaring, soothing cleans and rasping support. This atmospheric beauty takes us along valleys and hills that never end, and, when you thought you’d heard everything this song could offer, it concludes with beautiful, old-school solo work that, depending on your mood, leaves you hopelessly depressed or naively optimistic

After a dozen listens, I can’t find much on A Void Within Existence that makes me unhappy. While it’s compressed, the production still allows all the instruments to lend their weight to the end product. There could be a bit more bass in places, but it’s made up for by the slick drum mix. And, surprisingly enough, the clean vocals are far more forward in the mix than the previous album, which is pleasant to hear. The most predictable track on the album is “Nonexistence,” but it’s a solid, slower piece that draws you into the album’s sad theme. Letting the songwriting brew for the last six years has done A Void Within Existence well. It’s a repeatable record that requires multiple listens to explore every nook and cranny. Knowing the history of the band and its lineup changes, I hope Sorceron can bring these gents back in the future, because this might be the best they’ve ever been.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kb/s mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: facebook.com/abigailwilliamsband
Releases Worldwide: July 18th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AbigailWilliams #AgoniaRecords #AmericanMetal #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BearMace #BlackMetal #Changeling #Hypocrisy #Jul25 #Malignancy #Nachtmystium #Raven #Review #Reviews #ValeOfPnath

Abigail Williams – A Void Within Existence Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

After dropping a new album last year under his Nachtmystium moniker, I had a sneaky suspicion Ken Sorceron would bless us with a new Abigail Williams record this year. And, sure as shit, A Void Within Existence is here. I’ve been covering this outfit for some time now, thankfully, after their spell in the metalcore realm. And each new album continues to push new boundaries, inching closer to grabbing the counter by the balls and dragging it through blackened muck. While some would disagree, 2019’s Walk Beyond the Dark was a brilliant record that might arguably be the band’s best work. That sets a new bar for this ever-evolving group that, I can only assume, becomes more difficult to overtake with each new album and the swinging door of lineup changes and guest appearances. At least for now, the arsenal Sorceron surrounds himself with on A Void Within Existence is a tight group that meshes nicely together. But will this new record deliver the goods and bitch-slap the counter?

One of the best guests on this year’s release is Mike Heller (Changeling, Malignancy, Raven, and a thousand other fucking bands) on drums. Heller brings the intensity that adds layers of depth to A Void Within Existence, which are rarely found on the band’s previous albums. John Porada’s1 prowess also does wonders to the bass-heavy songwriting of Abigail Williams. Complete it with Vale of Pnath’s Vance Valenzuela on guitar, and we have one of the best Abigail Williams lineups. A Void Within Existence sets this foursome down a road of wreckage that can either end in annihilation or perfection. And it all weighs on the songwriting, performances, production, and, well… everything involved in crafting a release, especially with the depth involved in the lyrics and musical direction. Let’s see if I start crying.

A Void Within Existence wastes no time getting off the ground as it explodes with a heavy-bass assault and a murky, dissonant riff. It eventually settles into a groove as the spitting, slathering vocals arrive, supported powerfully by thundering backing vocals. Oddly enough, the pace and vocal arrangements evoke Hypocrisy. But things really get moving with the follow-up track, “Void Within.” Heller’s drum work, in particular, is the perfect teaser of what’s to come on later tracks. After opening with a meloblack passage, the razor-sharp riffs intensify around Sorceron’s vicious rasps. For nearly six minutes, this conglomeration of crushing black riffs, touches of orchestration, and absolute sinisterness paints a picture of sheer darkness. With wild guitar leads, impressive drum work, and a climax to make it worth the journey, “Void Within” is one of the most rounded ditties on the record.

But the best tracks on the album are “Talk to Your Sleep” and the closing number, “No Less than Death.” Seven months into the year, “Talk to Your Sleep” threatens to be my song o’ the year for 2025. This thing is nothing like anything I’ve ever heard from the band. Bass and drum-led, the crushing riff that springs up throughout is arguably the most memorable and headbangable thing ever to come from Abigail Williams. After cracking pavement with its mid-paced approach, it swings back around to begin again, this time with some punching vocals that are further emphasized by the guitars and drums. Then, Porada’s disgusting bass wakes the beast once more as we headbang to the end. Like Walk Beyond the Dark’s “The Final Failure,” “No Less than Death” is a surprising piece that shows Sorceron continuing to push his limits as a vocalist. While “The Final Failure” teased at some clean vocals, while retaining the rasp as the lead, “No Less than Death” goes all out with soaring, soothing cleans and rasping support. This atmospheric beauty takes us along valleys and hills that never end, and, when you thought you’d heard everything this song could offer, it concludes with beautiful, old-school solo work that, depending on your mood, leaves you hopelessly depressed or naively optimistic

After a dozen listens, I can’t find much on A Void Within Existence that makes me unhappy. While it’s compressed, the production still allows all the instruments to lend their weight to the end product. There could be a bit more bass in places, but it’s made up for by the slick drum mix. And, surprisingly enough, the clean vocals are far more forward in the mix than the previous album, which is pleasant to hear. The most predictable track on the album is “Nonexistence,” but it’s a solid, slower piece that draws you into the album’s sad theme. Letting the songwriting brew for the last six years has done A Void Within Existence well. It’s a repeatable record that requires multiple listens to explore every nook and cranny. Knowing the history of the band and its lineup changes, I hope Sorceron can bring these gents back in the future, because this might be the best they’ve ever been.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kb/s mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: facebook.com/abigailwilliamsband
Releases Worldwide: July 18th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AbigailWilliams #AgoniaRecords #AmericanMetal #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BearMace #BlackMetal #Changeling #Hypocrisy #Jul25 #Malignancy #Nachtmystium #Raven #Review #Reviews #ValeOfPnath

Abigail Williams – A Void Within Existence Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

After dropping a new album last year under his Nachtmystium moniker, I had a sneaky suspicion Ken Sorceron would bless us with a new Abigail Williams record this year. And, sure as shit, A Void Within Existence is here. I’ve been covering this outfit for some time now, thankfully, after their spell in the metalcore realm. And each new album continues to push new boundaries, inching closer to grabbing the counter by the balls and dragging it through blackened muck. While some would disagree, 2019’s Walk Beyond the Dark was a brilliant record that might arguably be the band’s best work. That sets a new bar for this ever-evolving group that, I can only assume, becomes more difficult to overtake with each new album and the swinging door of lineup changes and guest appearances. At least for now, the arsenal Sorceron surrounds himself with on A Void Within Existence is a tight group that meshes nicely together. But will this new record deliver the goods and bitch-slap the counter?

One of the best guests on this year’s release is Mike Heller (Changeling, Malignancy, Raven, and a thousand other fucking bands) on drums. Heller brings the intensity that adds layers of depth to A Void Within Existence, which are rarely found on the band’s previous albums. John Porada’s1 prowess also does wonders to the bass-heavy songwriting of Abigail Williams. Complete it with Vale of Pnath’s Vance Valenzuela on guitar, and we have one of the best Abigail Williams lineups. A Void Within Existence sets this foursome down a road of wreckage that can either end in annihilation or perfection. And it all weighs on the songwriting, performances, production, and, well… everything involved in crafting a release, especially with the depth involved in the lyrics and musical direction. Let’s see if I start crying.

A Void Within Existence wastes no time getting off the ground as it explodes with a heavy-bass assault and a murky, dissonant riff. It eventually settles into a groove as the spitting, slathering vocals arrive, supported powerfully by thundering backing vocals. Oddly enough, the pace and vocal arrangements evoke Hypocrisy. But things really get moving with the follow-up track, “Void Within.” Heller’s drum work, in particular, is the perfect teaser of what’s to come on later tracks. After opening with a meloblack passage, the razor-sharp riffs intensify around Sorceron’s vicious rasps. For nearly six minutes, this conglomeration of crushing black riffs, touches of orchestration, and absolute sinisterness paints a picture of sheer darkness. With wild guitar leads, impressive drum work, and a climax to make it worth the journey, “Void Within” is one of the most rounded ditties on the record.

But the best tracks on the album are “Talk to Your Sleep” and the closing number, “No Less than Death.” Seven months into the year, “Talk to Your Sleep” threatens to be my song o’ the year for 2025. This thing is nothing like anything I’ve ever heard from the band. Bass and drum-led, the crushing riff that springs up throughout is arguably the most memorable and headbangable thing ever to come from Abigail Williams. After cracking pavement with its mid-paced approach, it swings back around to begin again, this time with some punching vocals that are further emphasized by the guitars and drums. Then, Porada’s disgusting bass wakes the beast once more as we headbang to the end. Like Walk Beyond the Dark’s “The Final Failure,” “No Less than Death” is a surprising piece that shows Sorceron continuing to push his limits as a vocalist. While “The Final Failure” teased at some clean vocals, while retaining the rasp as the lead, “No Less than Death” goes all out with soaring, soothing cleans and rasping support. This atmospheric beauty takes us along valleys and hills that never end, and, when you thought you’d heard everything this song could offer, it concludes with beautiful, old-school solo work that, depending on your mood, leaves you hopelessly depressed or naively optimistic

After a dozen listens, I can’t find much on A Void Within Existence that makes me unhappy. While it’s compressed, the production still allows all the instruments to lend their weight to the end product. There could be a bit more bass in places, but it’s made up for by the slick drum mix. And, surprisingly enough, the clean vocals are far more forward in the mix than the previous album, which is pleasant to hear. The most predictable track on the album is “Nonexistence,” but it’s a solid, slower piece that draws you into the album’s sad theme. Letting the songwriting brew for the last six years has done A Void Within Existence well. It’s a repeatable record that requires multiple listens to explore every nook and cranny. Knowing the history of the band and its lineup changes, I hope Sorceron can bring these gents back in the future, because this might be the best they’ve ever been.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kb/s mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: facebook.com/abigailwilliamsband
Releases Worldwide: July 18th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AbigailWilliams #AgoniaRecords #AmericanMetal #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BearMace #BlackMetal #Changeling #Hypocrisy #Jul25 #Malignancy #Nachtmystium #Raven #Review #Reviews #ValeOfPnath

Abigail Williams – A Void Within Existence Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

After dropping a new album last year under his Nachtmystium moniker, I had a sneaky suspicion Ken Sorceron would bless us with a new Abigail Williams record this year. And, sure as shit, A Void Within Existence is here. I’ve been covering this outfit for some time now, thankfully, after their spell in the metalcore realm. And each new album continues to push new boundaries, inching closer to grabbing the counter by the balls and dragging it through blackened muck. While some would disagree, 2019’s Walk Beyond the Dark was a brilliant record that might arguably be the band’s best work. That sets a new bar for this ever-evolving group that, I can only assume, becomes more difficult to overtake with each new album and the swinging door of lineup changes and guest appearances. At least for now, the arsenal Sorceron surrounds himself with on A Void Within Existence is a tight group that meshes nicely together. But will this new record deliver the goods and bitch-slap the counter?

One of the best guests on this year’s release is Mike Heller (Changeling, Malignancy, Raven, and a thousand other fucking bands) on drums. Heller brings the intensity that adds layers of depth to A Void Within Existence, which are rarely found on the band’s previous albums. John Porada’s1 prowess also does wonders to the bass-heavy songwriting of Abigail Williams. Complete it with Vale of Pnath’s Vance Valenzuela on guitar, and we have one of the best Abigail Williams lineups. A Void Within Existence sets this foursome down a road of wreckage that can either end in annihilation or perfection. And it all weighs on the songwriting, performances, production, and, well… everything involved in crafting a release, especially with the depth involved in the lyrics and musical direction. Let’s see if I start crying.

A Void Within Existence wastes no time getting off the ground as it explodes with a heavy-bass assault and a murky, dissonant riff. It eventually settles into a groove as the spitting, slathering vocals arrive, supported powerfully by thundering backing vocals. Oddly enough, the pace and vocal arrangements evoke Hypocrisy. But things really get moving with the follow-up track, “Void Within.” Heller’s drum work, in particular, is the perfect teaser of what’s to come on later tracks. After opening with a meloblack passage, the razor-sharp riffs intensify around Sorceron’s vicious rasps. For nearly six minutes, this conglomeration of crushing black riffs, touches of orchestration, and absolute sinisterness paints a picture of sheer darkness. With wild guitar leads, impressive drum work, and a climax to make it worth the journey, “Void Within” is one of the most rounded ditties on the record.

But the best tracks on the album are “Talk to Your Sleep” and the closing number, “No Less than Death.” Seven months into the year, “Talk to Your Sleep” threatens to be my song o’ the year for 2025. This thing is nothing like anything I’ve ever heard from the band. Bass and drum-led, the crushing riff that springs up throughout is arguably the most memorable and headbangable thing ever to come from Abigail Williams. After cracking pavement with its mid-paced approach, it swings back around to begin again, this time with some punching vocals that are further emphasized by the guitars and drums. Then, Porada’s disgusting bass wakes the beast once more as we headbang to the end. Like Walk Beyond the Dark’s “The Final Failure,” “No Less than Death” is a surprising piece that shows Sorceron continuing to push his limits as a vocalist. While “The Final Failure” teased at some clean vocals, while retaining the rasp as the lead, “No Less than Death” goes all out with soaring, soothing cleans and rasping support. This atmospheric beauty takes us along valleys and hills that never end, and, when you thought you’d heard everything this song could offer, it concludes with beautiful, old-school solo work that, depending on your mood, leaves you hopelessly depressed or naively optimistic

After a dozen listens, I can’t find much on A Void Within Existence that makes me unhappy. While it’s compressed, the production still allows all the instruments to lend their weight to the end product. There could be a bit more bass in places, but it’s made up for by the slick drum mix. And, surprisingly enough, the clean vocals are far more forward in the mix than the previous album, which is pleasant to hear. The most predictable track on the album is “Nonexistence,” but it’s a solid, slower piece that draws you into the album’s sad theme. Letting the songwriting brew for the last six years has done A Void Within Existence well. It’s a repeatable record that requires multiple listens to explore every nook and cranny. Knowing the history of the band and its lineup changes, I hope Sorceron can bring these gents back in the future, because this might be the best they’ve ever been.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kb/s mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: facebook.com/abigailwilliamsband
Releases Worldwide: July 18th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AbigailWilliams #AgoniaRecords #AmericanMetal #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BearMace #BlackMetal #Changeling #Hypocrisy #Jul25 #Malignancy #Nachtmystium #Raven #Review #Reviews #ValeOfPnath

Quadvium – Tetradōm Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Who needs two guitar players when you could have two master bass players at the helm? Quadvium seeks to answer this question with the fiery fingerwork of metal legends Steve DiGiorgio and Jeroen Paul Thesseling. DiGiorgio revolutionized bass playing in the metalsphere through radical death works with Autopsy, Death,1 and his own band, Sadus. Even if you don’t know his name, you may recognize these hallmarks of percussive and frenetic bass engineering, or any number of the thrashy, deathly, or progressive albums to which he has lent a wild, throbbing pulse. Likewise, Thesseling has weaved his way around celebrated releases, designing a style equally tricky but heavier in jazz-indebted fusion. Both Pestilence’s Spheres and Obscura’s breakout albums Cosmogenesis and Omnivium would not have seen the same light without his buttery and bleeping presence.

In the collision of these two thick-stringed giants, Tetradōm weaves and wobbles in delectable harmony. The role of bass in rock and metal arrangements rarely settles into that of the lead. But with conductors of this caliber on fretless, and extended-range bass devices,2 nasally slides, flatulent thumps, and snarling shuffles rumble about this airy but grounded soundstage. Despite the low-end firepower at play, each accompanying performer brings flair and experience to their respective lanes. Guitarist (and engineer for Tetradōm) Eve (Kaathe) brings a flowing touch and additional melodic guide—opener “Moksha” even leads with her crystalline phrasing—that borrows from her tenure with instrumental progressive outlet Myth of I. And kitmeister Yuma van Eekelen has a storied rhythmic history with understated bands Our Oceans and Exivious that allows his textural phrasing to embolden the space between flying frequencies. No shortage of talent befalls Quadvium’s calculated stride.

Though a tag of supergroup may follow Quadvium, Tetradōm leads with an ear for the tasteful and impactful rather than one deafened by excess. All members of Quadvium possess an overwhelming prowess and creativity that edges toward the funky fresh technicality of a fusion act like Tribal Tech. Yet, with a djent-like groove, Quadvium reclaims the sterile nature of scooped drop-F chugging against glitchy electronic backings with panned wide, warm bass massaging (“Apophis,” “Adhyasa”). Popping harmonics blare3 in a glory as flighty interruptions amongst Animals as Leaders-knotted riffage, all while capturing the exploratory jazz feel of the iconic and influential Jaco Pastorius (“Náströnd”). Howling and whinnying melodies signal a path around which Eve and van Eekelen can prance in touch-and-go solo flutters and cymbal-savvy atmosphere (“Sarab,” “Eidolon”). The breadth of techniques and tones on display requires an open and engaged mind to enjoy. But Quadvium’s resonant, interwoven throughput tied fast to ever-unfolding refrains never drifts into solo-laden, wandering note tedium.

Such a bass-forward presentation—and not in the subwoofer booming way that modern hip-hop or electronic music can be—requires a listening setup with an extra oomph through the low and mid range. I remember the first time I listened to Gordian Knot’s “Arsis,” a subtle solo bass intro to 2003’s classic, Emergent, I could have sworn nothing emerged from my crackling Logitech speakers, its subtle hum nary an auditory blip. Quadvium doesn’t render their instrumental dialogue quite as soft-spoken, with performers’ metal edges and jazzy chatter (and Eve’s cybersynth sound design) filling the room with bright, up-front, persistent movement. But to hear the nuances, and fall into a fuller love with Tetradōm, you may have to reach for your richest listening mode so that you lose neither the delicate drum teasing intro to “Ghardus”—and the bass duo’s subsequent descent to the lowest range of the experience—nor the delicate floor-scraping harmonies of “Apophis.” Of course, you could just crank that volume knob, lay out on the floor, and let the braying call-and-response bends of “Sarab” or the modulated stacked-track bliss of “Eidolon” vibrate your being to a higher existence.

Without a single word, Quadvium manages to conjure the esoteric nature that Tetradōm and its philosophy-inspired titles promise. Its strike, though, takes full shape, eschewing the potential for amorphous free jazz tone flexing that fusion music can embody. DiGiorgio and Thesseling have a vision of what bass can be in a rock and metal context, and Tetradōm realizes that with every squeaking slide, pattering finger roll, cascading chord. Masters don’t always produce hungry music, but Quadvium has shown their appetite remains growling.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records | Bandcamp
Website: facebook.com/quadviumofficial
Releases Worldwide: May 30th, 2025

Show 3 footnotes

1. Session bass for Autopsy’s Severed Survival and member of Death for Human and Individual Thought Patterns. ↩
2. DiGiorgio has been known to rock a 3-string bass too! ↩
3. Reminding me of Atheist’s claim to the coolest bass harmonic in all of metal. ↩

#2025 #40 #AgoniaRecords #AnimalsAsLeaders #Atheist #Autopsy #Death #Exivious #GordianKnot #InstrumentalMetal #InternationalMetal #JacoPastorius #JazzFusion #May25 #MythOfI #Obscura #OurOceans #Pestilence #ProgressiveMetal #Quadvium #Review #Reviews #Sadist #Sadus #Tetradōm #TribalTech

Quadvium – Tetradōm Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Who needs two guitar players when you could have two master bass players at the helm? Quadvium seeks to answer this question with the fiery fingerwork of metal legends Steve DiGiorgio and Jeroen Paul Thesseling. DiGiorgio revolutionized bass playing in the metalsphere through radical death works with Autopsy, Death,1 and his own band, Sadus. Even if you don’t know his name, you may recognize these hallmarks of percussive and frenetic bass engineering, or any number of the thrashy, deathly, or progressive albums to which he has lent a wild, throbbing pulse. Likewise, Thesseling has weaved his way around celebrated releases, designing a style equally tricky but heavier in jazz-indebted fusion. Both Pestilence’s Spheres and Obscura’s breakout albums Cosmogenesis and Omnivium would not have seen the same light without his buttery and bleeping presence.

In the collision of these two thick-stringed giants, Tetradōm weaves and wobbles in delectable harmony. The role of bass in rock and metal arrangements rarely settles into that of the lead. But with conductors of this caliber on fretless, and extended-range bass devices,2 nasally slides, flatulent thumps, and snarling shuffles rumble about this airy but grounded soundstage. Despite the low-end firepower at play, each accompanying performer brings flair and experience to their respective lanes. Guitarist (and engineer for Tetradōm) Eve (Kaathe) brings a flowing touch and additional melodic guide—opener “Moksha” even leads with her crystalline phrasing—that borrows from her tenure with instrumental progressive outlet Myth of I. And kitmeister Yuma van Eekelen has a storied rhythmic history with understated bands Our Oceans and Exivious that allows his textural phrasing to embolden the space between flying frequencies. No shortage of talent befalls Quadvium’s calculated stride.

Though a tag of supergroup may follow Quadvium, Tetradōm leads with an ear for the tasteful and impactful rather than one deafened by excess. All members of Quadvium possess an overwhelming prowess and creativity that edges toward the funky fresh technicality of a fusion act like Tribal Tech. Yet, with a djent-like groove, Quadvium reclaims the sterile nature of scooped drop-F chugging against glitchy electronic backings with panned wide, warm bass massaging (“Apophis,” “Adhyasa”). Popping harmonics blare3 in a glory as flighty interruptions amongst Animals as Leaders-knotted riffage, all while capturing the exploratory jazz feel of the iconic and influential Jaco Pastorius (“Náströnd”). Howling and whinnying melodies signal a path around which Eve and van Eekelen can prance in touch-and-go solo flutters and cymbal-savvy atmosphere (“Sarab,” “Eidolon”). The breadth of techniques and tones on display requires an open and engaged mind to enjoy. But Quadvium’s resonant, interwoven throughput tied fast to ever-unfolding refrains never drifts into solo-laden, wandering note tedium.

Such a bass-forward presentation—and not in the subwoofer booming way that modern hip-hop or electronic music can be—requires a listening setup with an extra oomph through the low and mid range. I remember the first time I listened to Gordian Knot’s “Arsis,” a subtle solo bass intro to 2003’s classic, Emergent, I could have sworn nothing emerged from my crackling Logitech speakers, its subtle hum nary an auditory blip. Quadvium doesn’t render their instrumental dialogue quite as soft-spoken, with performers’ metal edges and jazzy chatter (and Eve’s cybersynth sound design) filling the room with bright, up-front, persistent movement. But to hear the nuances, and fall into a fuller love with Tetradōm, you may have to reach for your richest listening mode so that you lose neither the delicate drum teasing intro to “Ghardus”—and the bass duo’s subsequent descent to the lowest range of the experience—nor the delicate floor-scraping harmonies of “Apophis.” Of course, you could just crank that volume knob, lay out on the floor, and let the braying call-and-response bends of “Sarab” or the modulated stacked-track bliss of “Eidolon” vibrate your being to a higher existence.

Without a single word, Quadvium manages to conjure the esoteric nature that Tetradōm and its philosophy-inspired titles promise. Its strike, though, takes full shape, eschewing the potential for amorphous free jazz tone flexing that fusion music can embody. DiGiorgio and Thesseling have a vision of what bass can be in a rock and metal context, and Tetradōm realizes that with every squeaking slide, pattering finger roll, cascading chord. Masters don’t always produce hungry music, but Quadvium has shown their appetite remains growling.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records | Bandcamp
Website: facebook.com/quadviumofficial
Releases Worldwide: May 30th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AgoniaRecords #AnimalsAsLeaders #Atheist #Autopsy #Death #Exivious #GordianKnot #InstrumentalMetal #InternationalMetal #JacoPastorius #JazzFusion #May25 #MythOfI #Obscura #OurOceans #Pestilence #ProgressiveMetal #Quadvium #Review #Reviews #Sadist #Sadus #Tetradōm #TribalTech

Quadvium – Tetradōm Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Who needs two guitar players when you could have two master bass players at the helm? Quadvium seeks to answer this question with the fiery fingerwork of metal legends Steve DiGiorgio and Jeroen Paul Thesseling. DiGiorgio revolutionized bass playing in the metalsphere through radical death works with Autopsy, Death,1 and his own band, Sadus. Even if you don’t know his name, you may recognize these hallmarks of percussive and frenetic bass engineering, or any number of the thrashy, deathly, or progressive albums to which he has lent a wild, throbbing pulse. Likewise, Thesseling has weaved his way around celebrated releases, designing a style equally tricky but heavier in jazz-indebted fusion. Both Pestilence’s Spheres and Obscura’s breakout albums Cosmogenesis and Omnivium would not have seen the same light without his buttery and bleeping presence.

In the collision of these two thick-stringed giants, Tetradōm weaves and wobbles in delectable harmony. The role of bass in rock and metal arrangements rarely settles into that of the lead. But with conductors of this caliber on fretless, and extended-range bass devices,2 nasally slides, flatulent thumps, and snarling shuffles rumble about this airy but grounded soundstage. Despite the low-end firepower at play, each accompanying performer brings flair and experience to their respective lanes. Guitarist (and engineer for Tetradōm) Eve (Kaathe) brings a flowing touch and additional melodic guide—opener “Moksha” even leads with her crystalline phrasing—that borrows from her tenure with instrumental progressive outlet Myth of I. And kitmeister Yuma van Eekelen has a storied rhythmic history with understated bands Our Oceans and Exivious that allows his textural phrasing to embolden the space between flying frequencies. No shortage of talent befalls Quadvium’s calculated stride.

Though a tag of supergroup may follow Quadvium, Tetradōm leads with an ear for the tasteful and impactful rather than one deafened by excess. All members of Quadvium possess an overwhelming prowess and creativity that edges toward the funky fresh technicality of a fusion act like Tribal Tech. Yet, with a djent-like groove, Quadvium reclaims the sterile nature of scooped drop-F chugging against glitchy electronic backings with panned wide, warm bass massaging (“Apophis,” “Adhyasa”). Popping harmonics blare3 in a glory as flighty interruptions amongst Animals as Leaders-knotted riffage, all while capturing the exploratory jazz feel of the iconic and influential Jaco Pastorius (“Náströnd”). Howling and whinnying melodies signal a path around which Eve and van Eekelen can prance in touch-and-go solo flutters and cymbal-savvy atmosphere (“Sarab,” “Eidolon”). The breadth of techniques and tones on display requires an open and engaged mind to enjoy. But Quadvium’s resonant, interwoven throughput tied fast to ever-unfolding refrains never drifts into solo-laden, wandering note tedium.

Such a bass-forward presentation—and not in the subwoofer booming way that modern hip-hop or electronic music can be—requires a listening setup with an extra oomph through the low and mid range. I remember the first time I listened to Gordian Knot’s “Arsis,” a subtle solo bass intro to 2003’s classic, Emergent, I could have sworn nothing emerged from my crackling Logitech speakers, its subtle hum nary an auditory blip. Quadvium doesn’t render their instrumental dialogue quite as soft-spoken, with performers’ metal edges and jazzy chatter (and Eve’s cybersynth sound design) filling the room with bright, up-front, persistent movement. But to hear the nuances, and fall into a fuller love with Tetradōm, you may have to reach for your richest listening mode so that you lose neither the delicate drum teasing intro to “Ghardus”—and the bass duo’s subsequent descent to the lowest range of the experience—nor the delicate floor-scraping harmonies of “Apophis.” Of course, you could just crank that volume knob, lay out on the floor, and let the braying call-and-response bends of “Sarab” or the modulated stacked-track bliss of “Eidolon” vibrate your being to a higher existence.

Without a single word, Quadvium manages to conjure the esoteric nature that Tetradōm and its philosophy-inspired titles promise. Its strike, though, takes full shape, eschewing the potential for amorphous free jazz tone flexing that fusion music can embody. DiGiorgio and Thesseling have a vision of what bass can be in a rock and metal context, and Tetradōm realizes that with every squeaking slide, pattering finger roll, cascading chord. Masters don’t always produce hungry music, but Quadvium has shown their appetite remains growling.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records | Bandcamp
Website: facebook.com/quadviumofficial
Releases Worldwide: May 30th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AgoniaRecords #AnimalsAsLeaders #Atheist #Autopsy #Death #Exivious #GordianKnot #InstrumentalMetal #InternationalMetal #JacoPastorius #JazzFusion #May25 #MythOfI #Obscura #OurOceans #Pestilence #ProgressiveMetal #Quadvium #Review #Reviews #Sadist #Sadus #Tetradōm #TribalTech

Quadvium – Tetradōm Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Who needs two guitar players when you could have two master bass players at the helm? Quadvium seeks to answer this question with the fiery fingerwork of metal legends Steve DiGiorgio and Jeroen Paul Thesseling. DiGiorgio revolutionized bass playing in the metalsphere through radical death works with Autopsy, Death,1 and his own band, Sadus. Even if you don’t know his name, you may recognize these hallmarks of percussive and frenetic bass engineering, or any number of the thrashy, deathly, or progressive albums to which he has lent a wild, throbbing pulse. Likewise, Thesseling has weaved his way around celebrated releases, designing a style equally tricky but heavier in jazz-indebted fusion. Both Pestilence’s Spheres and Obscura’s breakout albums Cosmogenesis and Omnivium would not have seen the same light without his buttery and bleeping presence.

In the collision of these two thick-stringed giants, Tetradōm weaves and wobbles in delectable harmony. The role of bass in rock and metal arrangements rarely settles into that of the lead. But with conductors of this caliber on fretless, and extended-range bass devices,2 nasally slides, flatulent thumps, and snarling shuffles rumble about this airy but grounded soundstage. Despite the low-end firepower at play, each accompanying performer brings flair and experience to their respective lanes. Guitarist (and engineer for Tetradōm) Eve (Kaathe) brings a flowing touch and additional melodic guide—opener “Moksha” even leads with her crystalline phrasing—that borrows from her tenure with instrumental progressive outlet Myth of I. And kitmeister Yuma van Eekelen has a storied rhythmic history with understated bands Our Oceans and Exivious that allows his textural phrasing to embolden the space between flying frequencies. No shortage of talent befalls Quadvium’s calculated stride.

Though a tag of supergroup may follow Quadvium, Tetradōm leads with an ear for the tasteful and impactful rather than one deafened by excess. All members of Quadvium possess an overwhelming prowess and creativity that edges toward the funky fresh technicality of a fusion act like Tribal Tech. Yet, with a djent-like groove, Quadvium reclaims the sterile nature of scooped drop-F chugging against glitchy electronic backings with panned wide, warm bass massaging (“Apophis,” “Adhyasa”). Popping harmonics blare3 in a glory as flighty interruptions amongst Animals as Leaders-knotted riffage, all while capturing the exploratory jazz feel of the iconic and influential Jaco Pastorius (“Náströnd”). Howling and whinnying melodies signal a path around which Eve and van Eekelen can prance in touch-and-go solo flutters and cymbal-savvy atmosphere (“Sarab,” “Eidolon”). The breadth of techniques and tones on display requires an open and engaged mind to enjoy. But Quadvium’s resonant, interwoven throughput tied fast to ever-unfolding refrains never drifts into solo-laden, wandering note tedium.

Such a bass-forward presentation—and not in the subwoofer booming way that modern hip-hop or electronic music can be—requires a listening setup with an extra oomph through the low and mid range. I remember the first time I listened to Gordian Knot’s “Arsis,” a subtle solo bass intro to 2003’s classic, Emergent, I could have sworn nothing emerged from my crackling Logitech speakers, its subtle hum nary an auditory blip. Quadvium doesn’t render their instrumental dialogue quite as soft-spoken, with performers’ metal edges and jazzy chatter (and Eve’s cybersynth sound design) filling the room with bright, up-front, persistent movement. But to hear the nuances, and fall into a fuller love with Tetradōm, you may have to reach for your richest listening mode so that you lose neither the delicate drum teasing intro to “Ghardus”—and the bass duo’s subsequent descent to the lowest range of the experience—nor the delicate floor-scraping harmonies of “Apophis.” Of course, you could just crank that volume knob, lay out on the floor, and let the braying call-and-response bends of “Sarab” or the modulated stacked-track bliss of “Eidolon” vibrate your being to a higher existence.

Without a single word, Quadvium manages to conjure the esoteric nature that Tetradōm and its philosophy-inspired titles promise. Its strike, though, takes full shape, eschewing the potential for amorphous free jazz tone flexing that fusion music can embody. DiGiorgio and Thesseling have a vision of what bass can be in a rock and metal context, and Tetradōm realizes that with every squeaking slide, pattering finger roll, cascading chord. Masters don’t always produce hungry music, but Quadvium has shown their appetite remains growling.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records | Bandcamp
Website: facebook.com/quadviumofficial
Releases Worldwide: May 30th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AgoniaRecords #AnimalsAsLeaders #Atheist #Autopsy #Death #Exivious #GordianKnot #InstrumentalMetal #InternationalMetal #JacoPastorius #JazzFusion #May25 #MythOfI #Obscura #OurOceans #Pestilence #ProgressiveMetal #Quadvium #Review #Reviews #Sadist #Sadus #Tetradōm #TribalTech

Quadvium – Tetradōm Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Who needs two guitar players when you could have two master bass players at the helm? Quadvium seeks to answer this question with the fiery fingerwork of metal legends Steve DiGiorgio and Jeroen Paul Thesseling. DiGiorgio revolutionized bass playing in the metalsphere through radical death works with Autopsy, Death,1 and his own band, Sadus. Even if you don’t know his name, you may recognize these hallmarks of percussive and frenetic bass engineering, or any number of the thrashy, deathly, or progressive albums to which he has lent a wild, throbbing pulse. Likewise, Thesseling has weaved his way around celebrated releases, designing a style equally tricky but heavier in jazz-indebted fusion. Both Pestilence’s Spheres and Obscura’s breakout albums Cosmogenesis and Omnivium would not have seen the same light without his buttery and bleeping presence.

In the collision of these two thick-stringed giants, Tetradōm weaves and wobbles in delectable harmony. The role of bass in rock and metal arrangements rarely settles into that of the lead. But with conductors of this caliber on fretless, and extended-range bass devices,2 nasally slides, flatulent thumps, and snarling shuffles rumble about this airy but grounded soundstage. Despite the low-end firepower at play, each accompanying performer brings flair and experience to their respective lanes. Guitarist (and engineer for Tetradōm) Eve (Kaathe) brings a flowing touch and additional melodic guide—opener “Moksha” even leads with her crystalline phrasing—that borrows from her tenure with instrumental progressive outlet Myth of I. And kitmeister Yuma van Eekelen has a storied rhythmic history with understated bands Our Oceans and Exivious that allows his textural phrasing to embolden the space between flying frequencies. No shortage of talent befalls Quadvium’s calculated stride.

Though a tag of supergroup may follow Quadvium, Tetradōm leads with an ear for the tasteful and impactful rather than one deafened by excess. All members of Quadvium possess an overwhelming prowess and creativity that edges toward the funky fresh technicality of a fusion act like Tribal Tech. Yet, with a djent-like groove, Quadvium reclaims the sterile nature of scooped drop-F chugging against glitchy electronic backings with panned wide, warm bass massaging (“Apophis,” “Adhyasa”). Popping harmonics blare3 in a glory as flighty interruptions amongst Animals as Leaders-knotted riffage, all while capturing the exploratory jazz feel of the iconic and influential Jaco Pastorius (“Náströnd”). Howling and whinnying melodies signal a path around which Eve and van Eekelen can prance in touch-and-go solo flutters and cymbal-savvy atmosphere (“Sarab,” “Eidolon”). The breadth of techniques and tones on display requires an open and engaged mind to enjoy. But Quadvium’s resonant, interwoven throughput tied fast to ever-unfolding refrains never drifts into solo-laden, wandering note tedium.

Such a bass-forward presentation—and not in the subwoofer booming way that modern hip-hop or electronic music can be—requires a listening setup with an extra oomph through the low and mid range. I remember the first time I listened to Gordian Knot’s “Arsis,” a subtle solo bass intro to 2003’s classic, Emergent, I could have sworn nothing emerged from my crackling Logitech speakers, its subtle hum nary an auditory blip. Quadvium doesn’t render their instrumental dialogue quite as soft-spoken, with performers’ metal edges and jazzy chatter (and Eve’s cybersynth sound design) filling the room with bright, up-front, persistent movement. But to hear the nuances, and fall into a fuller love with Tetradōm, you may have to reach for your richest listening mode so that you lose neither the delicate drum teasing intro to “Ghardus”—and the bass duo’s subsequent descent to the lowest range of the experience—nor the delicate floor-scraping harmonies of “Apophis.” Of course, you could just crank that volume knob, lay out on the floor, and let the braying call-and-response bends of “Sarab” or the modulated stacked-track bliss of “Eidolon” vibrate your being to a higher existence.

Without a single word, Quadvium manages to conjure the esoteric nature that Tetradōm and its philosophy-inspired titles promise. Its strike, though, takes full shape, eschewing the potential for amorphous free jazz tone flexing that fusion music can embody. DiGiorgio and Thesseling have a vision of what bass can be in a rock and metal context, and Tetradōm realizes that with every squeaking slide, pattering finger roll, cascading chord. Masters don’t always produce hungry music, but Quadvium has shown their appetite remains growling.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records | Bandcamp
Website: facebook.com/quadviumofficial
Releases Worldwide: May 30th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AgoniaRecords #AnimalsAsLeaders #Atheist #Autopsy #Death #Exivious #GordianKnot #InstrumentalMetal #InternationalMetal #JacoPastorius #JazzFusion #May25 #MythOfI #Obscura #OurOceans #Pestilence #ProgressiveMetal #Quadvium #Review #Reviews #Sadist #Sadus #Tetradōm #TribalTech

Sadist – Something to Pierce Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Through Sadist’s classic run, from 1993’s Above the Light to 1997’s Crust, the imitable Italians carved a path around emergent death-thrash, progressive death, and groove sounds with a synth-laden and horror-guided flair as pillars of their heritage. And though their hiatus to reunion with 2007’s self-titled comeback burst forth with an aggressive energy that encapsulated their extreme and unique breed of work, the path afterward has remained fairly rocky. The freedom to be Sadist in all their never-replicated Goblin keys meets Pestilence riffs with a B-movie attitude has resulted in some excursions that felt more style than substance. In that sense, with 2022’s Firescorched, the embrace of techy fusion wrapped tightly around a carnival core fueled the promise of a fresh and focused Sadist. Can Something to Pierce, then, continue this late-career stab at glory?

For the second album in a row, Sadist has leaned on outside talents for their rhythmic core, this time absorbing the bass-drum duo of Italian progsters Fate Unburied, who have also acted as the band’s live setup.1 And in grooving lockstep, the duo rumbles about with a throbbing double-time and blasting fervor between founding guitarist and keys maestro Tommy Talamanca at his most garish and ripping. Early tracks like the breathy and bouncy “Deprived” and “Kill Devour Dissect” find that has rooted the Sadist sound in the campy world of blood splattered jungles and terror-drenched cistern ruins since 1995’s Tribe. In vocalist Trevor Nadir’s ripping howls and raspy cries, you can almost smell the rising of the undead against Talamanca’s Fulci-tinged, surrealistic compositions.

Alas, there’s not much plot to bind the horror-tinged persona that Something to Pierce wears as brazenly as it does deep death metal grooves. But that groove—that groove is, of course, persistent and slinky in a way that has always fused Talamanca’s knotted, progressive riffs and jazzy, heroic solos with an unbreakable flair. In that sense, though, Something to Pierce strikes in a uniform manner—a collection of songs that alternates between sliding riff intros and sparkling synth motifs that both bubble and bustle to gruesome and thrashing crescendos. As such, it’s the iterative nuance that colors Sadist’s stride—the swelling bass grunt of “Something to Pierce,” the snare roll to stomp of “The Sun God,” the escalating vocal grunt choir of “The Best Part Is the Brain”—and sells some memorability into the experience.

Yet, memorable or otherwise, no one has quite the attack that Sadist does, even at their most comfortable. Though veteran fans may feel at home in the swirling twists of cinematic, MENA-laced melodies, creeping ambience, and virtuosic guitar fills that lace Talamanca’s playing, newcomers may find a novel solace in the eclectic atmosphere that Something to Pierce conjures. The front half, in particular, plays more directly in its progressive death onslaught, serving jagged riff tumbles and stronger chorus structures that recapitulate in “One Shot Closer” before Sadist launches into a fuller, snake-charming glory. And, in turn, ending on the credits roll of “Respirium,” an instrumental with little ties to the aggression that pervades all that preceded it, requires full acceptance of the quirky world that Sadist builds—the one-two wobble-toned escapade of “The Best Part…” and “Nove Strade” makes it a little easier. After all, it’s only in this world that this bleep and swoon, desert scene patches, and bongo prancing make any sense.

That Sadist continues to walk undeterred along their own path now thirty-four years into existence is nothing short of a macabre miracle. Owing, in part, a peerish thanks to progenitors like Nocturnus and Atheist, the Genoese delicacy that Sadist presents has blossomed and rotted and reformed recognizable and largely uncontested. Why, in the annals of Angry Metal Guy, the Sadist tag itself directs in style only to more Sadist. So, Something to Pierce may not represent a bold new take on that lineage, neither as technical or raging or whimsical as past peaks. But Sadist, in a practiced and powerful groove, remains as dedicated and energetic as ever to their progressive and deathly craft, with ears virgin to their dastardly wiles hopefully finding something to throw them deep down a Sadist hole.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records | Bandcamp
Websites: sadist.it | facebook.com/sadstofficial
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AgoniaRecords #DeathMetal #Goblin #ItalianMetal #Mar25 #Nocturnus #Pestilence #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Sadist #SomethingToPierce

Sadist – Something to Pierce Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Through Sadist’s classic run, from 1993’s Above the Light to 1997’s Crust, the imitable Italians carved a path around emergent death-thrash, progressive death, and groove sounds with a synth-laden and horror-guided flair as pillars of their heritage. And though their hiatus to reunion with 2007’s self-titled comeback burst forth with an aggressive energy that encapsulated their extreme and unique breed of work, the path afterward has remained fairly rocky. The freedom to be Sadist in all their never-replicated Goblin keys meets Pestilence riffs with a B-movie attitude has resulted in some excursions that felt more style than substance. In that sense, with 2022’s Firescorched, the embrace of techy fusion wrapped tightly around a carnival core fueled the promise of a fresh and focused Sadist. Can Something to Pierce, then, continue this late-career stab at glory?

For the second album in a row, Sadist has leaned on outside talents for their rhythmic core, this time absorbing the bass-drum duo of Italian progsters Fate Unburied, who have also acted as the band’s live setup.1 And in grooving lockstep, the duo rumbles about with a throbbing double-time and blasting fervor between founding guitarist and keys maestro Tommy Talamanca at his most garish and ripping. Early tracks like the breathy and bouncy “Deprived” and “Kill Devour Dissect” find that has rooted the Sadist sound in the campy world of blood splattered jungles and terror-drenched cistern ruins since 1995’s Tribe. In vocalist Trevor Nadir’s ripping howls and raspy cries, you can almost smell the rising of the undead against Talamanca’s Fulci-tinged, surrealistic compositions.

Alas, there’s not much plot to bind the horror-tinged persona that Something to Pierce wears as brazenly as it does deep death metal grooves. But that groove—that groove is, of course, persistent and slinky in a way that has always fused Talamanca’s knotted, progressive riffs and jazzy, heroic solos with an unbreakable flair. In that sense, though, Something to Pierce strikes in a uniform manner—a collection of songs that alternates between sliding riff intros and sparkling synth motifs that both bubble and bustle to gruesome and thrashing crescendos. As such, it’s the iterative nuance that colors Sadist’s stride—the swelling bass grunt of “Something to Pierce,” the snare roll to stomp of “The Sun God,” the escalating vocal grunt choir of “The Best Part Is the Brain”—and sells some memorability into the experience.

Yet, memorable or otherwise, no one has quite the attack that Sadist does, even at their most comfortable. Though veteran fans may feel at home in the swirling twists of cinematic, MENA-laced melodies, creeping ambience, and virtuosic guitar fills that lace Talamanca’s playing, newcomers may find a novel solace in the eclectic atmosphere that Something to Pierce conjures. The front half, in particular, plays more directly in its progressive death onslaught, serving jagged riff tumbles and stronger chorus structures that recapitulate in “One Shot Closer” before Sadist launches into a fuller, snake-charming glory. And, in turn, ending on the credits roll of “Respirium,” an instrumental with little ties to the aggression that pervades all that preceded it, requires full acceptance of the quirky world that Sadist builds—the one-two wobble-toned escapade of “The Best Part…” and “Nove Strade” makes it a little easier. After all, it’s only in this world that this bleep and swoon, desert scene patches, and bongo prancing make any sense.

That Sadist continues to walk undeterred along their own path now thirty-four years into existence is nothing short of a macabre miracle. Owing, in part, a peerish thanks to progenitors like Nocturnus and Atheist, the Genoese delicacy that Sadist presents has blossomed and rotted and reformed recognizable and largely uncontested. Why, in the annals of Angry Metal Guy, the Sadist tag itself directs in style only to more Sadist. So, Something to Pierce may not represent a bold new take on that lineage, neither as technical or raging or whimsical as past peaks. But Sadist, in a practiced and powerful groove, remains as dedicated and energetic as ever to their progressive and deathly craft, with ears virgin to their dastardly wiles hopefully finding something to throw them deep down a Sadist hole.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records | Bandcamp
Websites: sadist.it | facebook.com/sadstofficial
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AgoniaRecords #DeathMetal #Goblin #ItalianMetal #Mar25 #Nocturnus #Pestilence #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Sadist #SomethingToPierce

Sadist – Something to Pierce Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Through Sadist’s classic run, from 1993’s Above the Light to 1997’s Crust, the imitable Italians carved a path around emergent death-thrash, progressive death, and groove sounds with a synth-laden and horror-guided flair as pillars of their heritage. And though their hiatus to reunion with 2007’s self-titled comeback burst forth with an aggressive energy that encapsulated their extreme and unique breed of work, the path afterward has remained fairly rocky. The freedom to be Sadist in all their never-replicated Goblin keys meets Pestilence riffs with a B-movie attitude has resulted in some excursions that felt more style than substance. In that sense, with 2022’s Firescorched, the embrace of techy fusion wrapped tightly around a carnival core fueled the promise of a fresh and focused Sadist. Can Something to Pierce, then, continue this late-career stab at glory?

For the second album in a row, Sadist has leaned on outside talents for their rhythmic core, this time absorbing the bass-drum duo of Italian progsters Fate Unburied, who have also acted as the band’s live setup.1 And in grooving lockstep, the duo rumbles about with a throbbing double-time and blasting fervor between founding guitarist and keys maestro Tommy Talamanca at his most garish and ripping. Early tracks like the breathy and bouncy “Deprived” and “Kill Devour Dissect” find that has rooted the Sadist sound in the campy world of blood splattered jungles and terror-drenched cistern ruins since 1995’s Tribe. In vocalist Trevor Nadir’s ripping howls and raspy cries, you can almost smell the rising of the undead against Talamanca’s Fulci-tinged, surrealistic compositions.

Alas, there’s not much plot to bind the horror-tinged persona that Something to Pierce wears as brazenly as it does deep death metal grooves. But that groove—that groove is, of course, persistent and slinky in a way that has always fused Talamanca’s knotted, progressive riffs and jazzy, heroic solos with an unbreakable flair. In that sense, though, Something to Pierce strikes in a uniform manner—a collection of songs that alternates between sliding riff intros and sparkling synth motifs that both bubble and bustle to gruesome and thrashing crescendos. As such, it’s the iterative nuance that colors Sadist’s stride—the swelling bass grunt of “Something to Pierce,” the snare roll to stomp of “The Sun God,” the escalating vocal grunt choir of “The Best Part Is the Brain”—and sells some memorability into the experience.

Yet, memorable or otherwise, no one has quite the attack that Sadist does, even at their most comfortable. Though veteran fans may feel at home in the swirling twists of cinematic, MENA-laced melodies, creeping ambience, and virtuosic guitar fills that lace Talamanca’s playing, newcomers may find a novel solace in the eclectic atmosphere that Something to Pierce conjures. The front half, in particular, plays more directly in its progressive death onslaught, serving jagged riff tumbles and stronger chorus structures that recapitulate in “One Shot Closer” before Sadist launches into a fuller, snake-charming glory. And, in turn, ending on the credits roll of “Respirium,” an instrumental with little ties to the aggression that pervades all that preceded it, requires full acceptance of the quirky world that Sadist builds—the one-two wobble-toned escapade of “The Best Part…” and “Nove Strade” makes it a little easier. After all, it’s only in this world that this bleep and swoon, desert scene patches, and bongo prancing make any sense.

That Sadist continues to walk undeterred along their own path now thirty-four years into existence is nothing short of a macabre miracle. Owing, in part, a peerish thanks to progenitors like Nocturnus and Atheist, the Genoese delicacy that Sadist presents has blossomed and rotted and reformed recognizable and largely uncontested. Why, in the annals of Angry Metal Guy, the Sadist tag itself directs in style only to more Sadist. So, Something to Pierce may not represent a bold new take on that lineage, neither as technical or raging or whimsical as past peaks. But Sadist, in a practiced and powerful groove, remains as dedicated and energetic as ever to their progressive and deathly craft, with ears virgin to their dastardly wiles hopefully finding something to throw them deep down a Sadist hole.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records | Bandcamp
Websites: sadist.it | facebook.com/sadstofficial
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AgoniaRecords #DeathMetal #Goblin #ItalianMetal #Mar25 #Nocturnus #Pestilence #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Sadist #SomethingToPierce

Sadist – Something to Pierce Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Through Sadist’s classic run, from 1993’s Above the Light to 1997’s Crust, the imitable Italians carved a path around emergent death-thrash, progressive death, and groove sounds with a synth-laden and horror-guided flair as pillars of their heritage. And though their hiatus to reunion with 2007’s self-titled comeback burst forth with an aggressive energy that encapsulated their extreme and unique breed of work, the path afterward has remained fairly rocky. The freedom to be Sadist in all their never-replicated Goblin keys meets Pestilence riffs with a B-movie attitude has resulted in some excursions that felt more style than substance. In that sense, with 2022’s Firescorched, the embrace of techy fusion wrapped tightly around a carnival core fueled the promise of a fresh and focused Sadist. Can Something to Pierce, then, continue this late-career stab at glory?

For the second album in a row, Sadist has leaned on outside talents for their rhythmic core, this time absorbing the bass-drum duo of Italian progsters Fate Unburied, who have also acted as the band’s live setup.1 And in grooving lockstep, the duo rumbles about with a throbbing double-time and blasting fervor between founding guitarist and keys maestro Tommy Talamanca at his most garish and ripping. Early tracks like the breathy and bouncy “Deprived” and “Kill Devour Dissect” find that has rooted the Sadist sound in the campy world of blood splattered jungles and terror-drenched cistern ruins since 1995’s Tribe. In vocalist Trevor Nadir’s ripping howls and raspy cries, you can almost smell the rising of the undead against Talamanca’s Fulci-tinged, surrealistic compositions.

Alas, there’s not much plot to bind the horror-tinged persona that Something to Pierce wears as brazenly as it does deep death metal grooves. But that groove—that groove is, of course, persistent and slinky in a way that has always fused Talamanca’s knotted, progressive riffs and jazzy, heroic solos with an unbreakable flair. In that sense, though, Something to Pierce strikes in a uniform manner—a collection of songs that alternates between sliding riff intros and sparkling synth motifs that both bubble and bustle to gruesome and thrashing crescendos. As such, it’s the iterative nuance that colors Sadist’s stride—the swelling bass grunt of “Something to Pierce,” the snare roll to stomp of “The Sun God,” the escalating vocal grunt choir of “The Best Part Is the Brain”—and sells some memorability into the experience.

Yet, memorable or otherwise, no one has quite the attack that Sadist does, even at their most comfortable. Though veteran fans may feel at home in the swirling twists of cinematic, MENA-laced melodies, creeping ambience, and virtuosic guitar fills that lace Talamanca’s playing, newcomers may find a novel solace in the eclectic atmosphere that Something to Pierce conjures. The front half, in particular, plays more directly in its progressive death onslaught, serving jagged riff tumbles and stronger chorus structures that recapitulate in “One Shot Closer” before Sadist launches into a fuller, snake-charming glory. And, in turn, ending on the credits roll of “Respirium,” an instrumental with little ties to the aggression that pervades all that preceded it, requires full acceptance of the quirky world that Sadist builds—the one-two wobble-toned escapade of “The Best Part…” and “Nove Strade” makes it a little easier. After all, it’s only in this world that this bleep and swoon, desert scene patches, and bongo prancing make any sense.

That Sadist continues to walk undeterred along their own path now thirty-four years into existence is nothing short of a macabre miracle. Owing, in part, a peerish thanks to progenitors like Nocturnus and Atheist, the Genoese delicacy that Sadist presents has blossomed and rotted and reformed recognizable and largely uncontested. Why, in the annals of Angry Metal Guy, the Sadist tag itself directs in style only to more Sadist. So, Something to Pierce may not represent a bold new take on that lineage, neither as technical or raging or whimsical as past peaks. But Sadist, in a practiced and powerful groove, remains as dedicated and energetic as ever to their progressive and deathly craft, with ears virgin to their dastardly wiles hopefully finding something to throw them deep down a Sadist hole.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records | Bandcamp
Websites: sadist.it | facebook.com/sadstofficial
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AgoniaRecords #DeathMetal #Goblin #ItalianMetal #Mar25 #Nocturnus #Pestilence #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Sadist #SomethingToPierce

Massacre – Necrolution Review

By Steel Druhm

In the history of death metal, Massacre were one of the early pioneers. They were cranking out demos in the mid-80s that would help set the parameters of what death metal would become and lineups included death luminaries like Allen West, Rick Rozz, Bill Andrews, and Kam Lee. Unfortunately, due to various issues Massacre didn’t get a proper album released until 1990 and by then the genre was alive and already evolving beyond them. A disastrous sophomore outing derailed the band before they ever really got going and that was that. 2021 saw two competing versions of Massacre release albums. Inhuman Condition featured several former Massacre members and aimed for their classic sound, and Massacre themselves launched Resurgence with original vocalist Kam Lee getting help from death metal workaholic Rogga Johansson. Resurgence was fun, primitive death for the old school oldies, but looking back, I definitely overrated it. Now we get the second album from the Kam/Rogga alliance and with Necrolution they’ve delivered a classic death platter carbon dated to 1990 but containing a few unexpected and unusual twists and turns. Can these old dawgs bring new energy to a crusty, moldy project?

Necrolution finds Massacre still in their proto-death safe space in line with their From Beyond debut. Opener “Fear of the Unknown” is like something from the late 80s and it could have appeared on From Beyond and fit right in. It’s early days caveman brutality, but it feels oddly diluted somehow. It segues into an out-of-left-field exotic Middle Eastern-themed interlude with symphonic and female choral work before switching to something that sounds like Candlemess-style epic doom metal on “Rituals of the Abyss.” The song eventually kicks over to a punky, Celtic Frost-inspired brand of Neanderthal death with all sorts of Tom G. Warrior-esque “UHs” and “OHs,” but the leaps between styles are too jarring and confusing. When Massacre sticks to their sweet spot you get enjoyably dumb bashers like “Ensnarers Within” and “The Colour Out of Space,” both of which hammer you with simple but effective riffage and Kam’s Cookie Monster cartoony death roars. The classic Massacre sound is generally present with the slightly punky energy from the old days offering no frills, brainless beatings. There are traces of the classic Swedeath d-beat mixed in for added spice, though things are kept more in the American style for much of the album’s runtime.

The back half has a few stompers too, with “Shriek of the Castle Freak” feeling like an extra-inspired dose of rancid Autopsy-core with an irresistibly scuzzy energy, and “Ad Infinitum: The Final Hour” brings down thew deathhammer hard with simple but effective thug death metal. The problem With Necrolution is that even the best moments tetter on the precipe of generic and stock death, and there are some underwhelming moments along with too many pointless interludes interrupting the forward momentum. “The Things That Were and Shall Be” is okay but feels like watered-down Deicide mixed with classic metal although it features plenty of classic Kam Lee “ARRRRRRRs” and “HEEEEEYs.” “Dead-Life: ReAnimator” is also decent but nothing special. As much as I’m a fan of the style and sound Massacre deploys here, I don’t connect with some of the material as strongly as I should considering I’m the olde death fogey demographic. When it works though, good ugly fun can be had. At 48-plus minutes, Necrolution feels a bit long-winded, and chopping a few lesser tracks would help make it a more focused, ass-kicking spin.

As always Kam Lee is a joy to hear. He gets credit for more or less inventing death vocals and he’s still got a large and in-charge roar. Yes, he often sounds like a 20-foot-tall Cookie Monster, but that’s part of the fun. He’s a legend in the genre he helped create and he brings much phlegm and rot to the pit. Extremely well-traveled death institution Mr. Rogga (Paganizer, Putrevore, Ribspreader, and 500 other bands) and almost equally seasoned axe-man Johnny Pettersson (Rotpit, Heads for the Dead, Wombbath, etc.) know their way around the riff machine and bring a motley collection of chugs, grooves, d-beats, and doom plods to the slaughter. They do a good job keeping the songs moving and bouncing and provide a steady diet of headbangable moments. There’s nothing special or unique to what this version of Massacre do, but if you love the olden style of death metal, there’s a lot to appreciate in how they execute it.

I want to love Necrolution more than I do. It has its share of fun moments but it has some so-so moments too and the excessive, out-of-place interludes distract from the brain-smashing. If this is where Massacre is destined to sit quality-wise, I can live with that and will give every release a spin and mine the best moments. This won’t be on many year-end lists but it’s still an enjoyable ride with some familiar fiends.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia
Websites: massacre3.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/massacrebandusa | instagram.com/massacre_band_official
Releases Worldwide: November 8th, 2024

#25 #2024 #AgoniaRecords #AmericanMetal #DeathMetal #InhumanCondition #Massacre #Necrolution #Nov24 #Resurgence #Review #Reviews

Massacre – Necrolution Review

By Steel Druhm

In the history of death metal, Massacre were one of the early pioneers. They were cranking out demos in the mid-80s that would help set the parameters of what death metal would become and lineups included death luminaries like Allen West, Rick Rozz, Bill Andrews, and Kam Lee. Unfortunately, due to various issues Massacre didn’t get a proper album released until 1990 and by then the genre was alive and already evolving beyond them. A disastrous sophomore outing derailed the band before they ever really got going and that was that. 2021 saw two competing versions of Massacre release albums. Inhuman Condition featured several former Massacre members and aimed for their classic sound, and Massacre themselves launched Resurgence with original vocalist Kam Lee getting help from death metal workaholic Rogga Johansson. Resurgence was fun, primitive death for the old school oldies, but looking back, I definitely overrated it. Now we get the second album from the Kam/Rogga alliance and with Necrolution they’ve delivered a classic death platter carbon dated to 1990 but containing a few unexpected and unusual twists and turns. Can these old dawgs bring new energy to a crusty, moldy project?

Necrolution finds Massacre still in their proto-death safe space in line with their From Beyond debut. Opener “Fear of the Unknown” is like something from the late 80s and it could have appeared on From Beyond and fit right in. It’s early days caveman brutality, but it feels oddly diluted somehow. It segues into an out-of-left-field exotic Middle Eastern-themed interlude with symphonic and female choral work before switching to something that sounds like Candlemess-style epic doom metal on “Rituals of the Abyss.” The song eventually kicks over to a punky, Celtic Frost-inspired brand of Neanderthal death with all sorts of Tom G. Warrior-esque “UHs” and “OHs,” but the leaps between styles are too jarring and confusing. When Massacre sticks to their sweet spot you get enjoyably dumb bashers like “Ensnarers Within” and “The Colour Out of Space,” both of which hammer you with simple but effective riffage and Kam’s Cookie Monster cartoony death roars. The classic Massacre sound is generally present with the slightly punky energy from the old days offering no frills, brainless beatings. There are traces of the classic Swedeath d-beat mixed in for added spice, though things are kept more in the American style for much of the album’s runtime.

The back half has a few stompers too, with “Shriek of the Castle Freak” feeling like an extra-inspired dose of rancid Autopsy-core with an irresistibly scuzzy energy, and “Ad Infinitum: The Final Hour” brings down thew deathhammer hard with simple but effective thug death metal. The problem With Necrolution is that even the best moments tetter on the precipe of generic and stock death, and there are some underwhelming moments along with too many pointless interludes interrupting the forward momentum. “The Things That Were and Shall Be” is okay but feels like watered-down Deicide mixed with classic metal although it features plenty of classic Kam Lee “ARRRRRRRs” and “HEEEEEYs.” “Dead-Life: ReAnimator” is also decent but nothing special. As much as I’m a fan of the style and sound Massacre deploys here, I don’t connect with some of the material as strongly as I should considering I’m the olde death fogey demographic. When it works though, good ugly fun can be had. At 48-plus minutes, Necrolution feels a bit long-winded, and chopping a few lesser tracks would help make it a more focused, ass-kicking spin.

As always Kam Lee is a joy to hear. He gets credit for more or less inventing death vocals and he’s still got a large and in-charge roar. Yes, he often sounds like a 20-foot-tall Cookie Monster, but that’s part of the fun. He’s a legend in the genre he helped create and he brings much phlegm and rot to the pit. Extremely well-traveled death institution Mr. Rogga (Paganizer, Putrevore, Ribspreader, and 500 other bands) and almost equally seasoned axe-man Johnny Pettersson (Rotpit, Heads for the Dead, Wombbath, etc.) know their way around the riff machine and bring a motley collection of chugs, grooves, d-beats, and doom plods to the slaughter. They do a good job keeping the songs moving and bouncing and provide a steady diet of headbangable moments. There’s nothing special or unique to what this version of Massacre do, but if you love the olden style of death metal, there’s a lot to appreciate in how they execute it.

I want to love Necrolution more than I do. It has its share of fun moments but it has some so-so moments too and the excessive, out-of-place interludes distract from the brain-smashing. If this is where Massacre is destined to sit quality-wise, I can live with that and will give every release a spin and mine the best moments. This won’t be on many year-end lists but it’s still an enjoyable ride with some familiar fiends.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia
Websites: massacre3.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/massacrebandusa | instagram.com/massacre_band_official
Releases Worldwide: November 8th, 2024

#25 #2024 #AgoniaRecords #AmericanMetal #DeathMetal #InhumanCondition #Massacre #Necrolution #Nov24 #Resurgence #Review #Reviews

Massacre – Necrolution Review

By Steel Druhm

In the history of death metal, Massacre were one of the early pioneers. They were cranking out demos in the mid-80s that would help set the parameters of what death metal would become and lineups included death luminaries like Allen West, Rick Rozz, Bill Andrews, and Kam Lee. Unfortunately, due to various issues Massacre didn’t get a proper album released until 1990 and by then the genre was alive and already evolving beyond them. A disastrous sophomore outing derailed the band before they ever really got going and that was that. 2021 saw two competing versions of Massacre release albums. Inhuman Condition featured several former Massacre members and aimed for their classic sound, and Massacre themselves launched Resurgence with original vocalist Kam Lee getting help from death metal workaholic Rogga Johansson. Resurgence was fun, primitive death for the old school oldies, but looking back, I definitely overrated it. Now we get the second album from the Kam/Rogga alliance and with Necrolution they’ve delivered a classic death platter carbon dated to 1990 but containing a few unexpected and unusual twists and turns. Can these old dawgs bring new energy to a crusty, moldy project?

Necrolution finds Massacre still in their proto-death safe space in line with their From Beyond debut. Opener “Fear of the Unknown” is like something from the late 80s and it could have appeared on From Beyond and fit right in. It’s early days caveman brutality, but it feels oddly diluted somehow. It segues into an out-of-left-field exotic Middle Eastern-themed interlude with symphonic and female choral work before switching to something that sounds like Candlemess-style epic doom metal on “Rituals of the Abyss.” The song eventually kicks over to a punky, Celtic Frost-inspired brand of Neanderthal death with all sorts of Tom G. Warrior-esque “UHs” and “OHs,” but the leaps between styles are too jarring and confusing. When Massacre sticks to their sweet spot you get enjoyably dumb bashers like “Ensnarers Within” and “The Colour Out of Space,” both of which hammer you with simple but effective riffage and Kam’s Cookie Monster cartoony death roars. The classic Massacre sound is generally present with the slightly punky energy from the old days offering no frills, brainless beatings. There are traces of the classic Swedeath d-beat mixed in for added spice, though things are kept more in the American style for much of the album’s runtime.

The back half has a few stompers too, with “Shriek of the Castle Freak” feeling like an extra-inspired dose of rancid Autopsy-core with an irresistibly scuzzy energy, and “Ad Infinitum: The Final Hour” brings down thew deathhammer hard with simple but effective thug death metal. The problem With Necrolution is that even the best moments tetter on the precipe of generic and stock death, and there are some underwhelming moments along with too many pointless interludes interrupting the forward momentum. “The Things That Were and Shall Be” is okay but feels like watered-down Deicide mixed with classic metal although it features plenty of classic Kam Lee “ARRRRRRRs” and “HEEEEEYs.” “Dead-Life: ReAnimator” is also decent but nothing special. As much as I’m a fan of the style and sound Massacre deploys here, I don’t connect with some of the material as strongly as I should considering I’m the olde death fogey demographic. When it works though, good ugly fun can be had. At 48-plus minutes, Necrolution feels a bit long-winded, and chopping a few lesser tracks would help make it a more focused, ass-kicking spin.

As always Kam Lee is a joy to hear. He gets credit for more or less inventing death vocals and he’s still got a large and in-charge roar. Yes, he often sounds like a 20-foot-tall Cookie Monster, but that’s part of the fun. He’s a legend in the genre he helped create and he brings much phlegm and rot to the pit. Extremely well-traveled death institution Mr. Rogga (Paganizer, Putrevore, Ribspreader, and 500 other bands) and almost equally seasoned axe-man Johnny Pettersson (Rotpit, Heads for the Dead, Wombbath, etc.) know their way around the riff machine and bring a motley collection of chugs, grooves, d-beats, and doom plods to the slaughter. They do a good job keeping the songs moving and bouncing and provide a steady diet of headbangable moments. There’s nothing special or unique to what this version of Massacre do, but if you love the olden style of death metal, there’s a lot to appreciate in how they execute it.

I want to love Necrolution more than I do. It has its share of fun moments but it has some so-so moments too and the excessive, out-of-place interludes distract from the brain-smashing. If this is where Massacre is destined to sit quality-wise, I can live with that and will give every release a spin and mine the best moments. This won’t be on many year-end lists but it’s still an enjoyable ride with some familiar fiends.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia
Websites: massacre3.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/massacrebandusa | instagram.com/massacre_band_official
Releases Worldwide: November 8th, 2024

#25 #2024 #AgoniaRecords #AmericanMetal #DeathMetal #InhumanCondition #Massacre #Necrolution #Nov24 #Resurgence #Review #Reviews

Five the Hierophant – Apeiron Review

By Carcharodon

I wanted to love Five the Hierophant’s last album, 2021’s Through Aureate Void. I really did. Alas, it was not to be. However, after seeing them play a great set at ArcTanGent in 2022, I revisited that record. While I stand by everything in that review, including the 2.0, which some viewed as harsh, the potential was clear and Five the Hierophant was tantalizingly close to delivering a worthy follow-up to their very good debut, Over Phlegethon. The British quartet’s brand of psychedelic, jazz-inspired, instrumental post-metal had elements of greatness marred by meandering, over-indulgent songwriting that lacked standout ideas. However, I can’t think of another 2.0 that I’ve given, where I would be as genuinely interested and optimistic as I was going into Five the Hierophant’s third album, Apeiron. Could they tighten up the formula and deliver that great record I know they have in them?

While there is no paradigm shift in Five the Hierophant’s sound on Apeiron, there is a clear expansion of vision. Building on the model of Through Aureate Void, the foundation remains one of dark, sprawling atmospheres, pregnant with ambience and pent-up threat (“Tower of Silence I”). The backbone of Five the Hierophant’s sound is built around bass, guitar, drums, and other percussion, apeing the likes of BRIQUEVILLE to create a rich, textured post-metal soundscapes (title track). However, where some bands rely on a vocalist to punctuate and enhance their compositions, Five the Hierophant have Jon’s sax. Crooning, whispering, screaming, the sax commands the sound stage (“Uroboros”), just as it is allowed to do in places on White Ward’s albums also. However, not content to rest on its laurels, the band is ever-expanding its horizons, broadening the already extensive array of tools at their disposal to now include horns, trumpets, gongs, bells, violins, skull shakers, and more.

Apeiron is a Greek word meaning that which is unlimited or infinite. What Five the Hierophant do so well is to capture that sense of both scale and organic fluidity. The overarching drone and ambient elements feel boundless and vast, amplified as they are by not only the horns and violins (“Moon over Ziggurat” and the title track), but also the liberal use of effects (end of “Tower of Silence I” and closer, “Tower of Silence II”). The sax, as well as the trumpet and other adornments, then light up the inky void, sometimes flowing like quicksilver (“Moon over Ziggurat”), sometimes more challenging, insistent, even angry (the opening title track), occasionally recalling the freeform lines of Neptunian Maximalism or an instrumental Pan.Thy.Monium. Even as we slip into looser, more chaotic soundscapes (middle portion of “Initiatory Sickness”), the whole of Apeiron retains an identity and cohesion that does great credit to Five the Hierophant.

A cursory listen to Apeiron might suggest that Five the Hierophant has delivered a freeform creation, light on tangible structures. However, while this may be true using only traditional metal as your reference point, there is a model or blueprint for the material that runs through the record. Each track opens in languid mood and, even where there are threatening or forbidding overtones, the sound is delicate, restrained slow-burn. It then gradually builds towards something more powerful and cathartic, punctuated by chaotic forays along the way. Perhaps this basic mold is responsible for the cohesive feel of Apeiron. However, it also means that, after a few listens, you start to lose the sense of indefinite exploration and feel instead like you are on a moist, well-trodden, slightly predictable path. That said, despite only being four minutes shorter than Through Aureate Void, the material on Apeiron feels significantly tighter and less meandering, with the sole (and unfortunate) exception of “Tower of Silence II.” This was, sadly, entirely the wrong five minutes with which to close the album. If only Five the Hierophant had stopped at the end of “Uroboros” (or, I suppose, swapped the two tracks), this could have been a far superior experience. As it is, Apeiron finishes on a disappointing siding, rather than a triumphant main line.

The production on Apeiron is a significant step up from previous albums. Rich and dynamic, it imbues Five the Hierophant’s sound with genuine power, while the master allows the legion of constituent elements sufficient breathing room. Indeed, it’s not just the production, but also the songwriting that represents a significant step up. Where Through Aureate Void meandered aimlessly, Apeiron feels like a journey, albeit with diversions and detours en route. If Five the Hierophant can now finetune their process to maintain the feel they’ve imbued Apeiron with, while slightly reducing the structural predictability, their next record will be truly masterful.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: five-the-hierophant.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/fivethehierophant
Releases Worldwide: October 18th, 2024

#2024 #30 #AgoniaRecords #Ambient #Apeiron #AvanteGarde #Briqueville #BritishMetal #DoomJazz #Drone #FiveTheHierophant #NeptunianMaximalism #Oct24 #PanThyMonium #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #WhiteWard

Five the Hierophant – Apeiron Review

By Carcharodon

I wanted to love Five the Hierophant’s last album, 2021’s Through Aureate Void. I really did. Alas, it was not to be. However, after seeing them play a great set at ArcTanGent in 2022, I revisited that record. While I stand by everything in that review, including the 2.0, which some viewed as harsh, the potential was clear and Five the Hierophant was tantalizingly close to delivering a worthy follow-up to their very good debut, Over Phlegethon. The British quartet’s brand of psychedelic, jazz-inspired, instrumental post-metal had elements of greatness marred by meandering, over-indulgent songwriting that lacked standout ideas. However, I can’t think of another 2.0 that I’ve given, where I would be as genuinely interested and optimistic as I was going into Five the Hierophant’s third album, Apeiron. Could they tighten up the formula and deliver that great record I know they have in them?

While there is no paradigm shift in Five the Hierophant’s sound on Apeiron, there is a clear expansion of vision. Building on the model of Through Aureate Void, the foundation remains one of dark, sprawling atmospheres, pregnant with ambience and pent-up threat (“Tower of Silence I”). The backbone of Five the Hierophant’s sound is built around bass, guitar, drums, and other percussion, apeing the likes of BRIQUEVILLE to create a rich, textured post-metal soundscapes (title track). However, where some bands rely on a vocalist to punctuate and enhance their compositions, Five the Hierophant have Jon’s sax. Crooning, whispering, screaming, the sax commands the sound stage (“Uroboros”), just as it is allowed to do in places on White Ward’s albums also. However, not content to rest on its laurels, the band is ever-expanding its horizons, broadening the already extensive array of tools at their disposal to now include horns, trumpets, gongs, bells, violins, skull shakers, and more.

Apeiron is a Greek word meaning that which is unlimited or infinite. What Five the Hierophant do so well is to capture that sense of both scale and organic fluidity. The overarching drone and ambient elements feel boundless and vast, amplified as they are by not only the horns and violins (“Moon over Ziggurat” and the title track), but also the liberal use of effects (end of “Tower of Silence I” and closer, “Tower of Silence II”). The sax, as well as the trumpet and other adornments, then light up the inky void, sometimes flowing like quicksilver (“Moon over Ziggurat”), sometimes more challenging, insistent, even angry (the opening title track), occasionally recalling the freeform lines of Neptunian Maximalism or an instrumental Pan.Thy.Monium. Even as we slip into looser, more chaotic soundscapes (middle portion of “Initiatory Sickness”), the whole of Apeiron retains an identity and cohesion that does great credit to Five the Hierophant.

A cursory listen to Apeiron might suggest that Five the Hierophant has delivered a freeform creation, light on tangible structures. However, while this may be true using only traditional metal as your reference point, there is a model or blueprint for the material that runs through the record. Each track opens in languid mood and, even where there are threatening or forbidding overtones, the sound is delicate, restrained slow-burn. It then gradually builds towards something more powerful and cathartic, punctuated by chaotic forays along the way. Perhaps this basic mold is responsible for the cohesive feel of Apeiron. However, it also means that, after a few listens, you start to lose the sense of indefinite exploration and feel instead like you are on a moist, well-trodden, slightly predictable path. That said, despite only being four minutes shorter than Through Aureate Void, the material on Apeiron feels significantly tighter and less meandering, with the sole (and unfortunate) exception of “Tower of Silence II.” This was, sadly, entirely the wrong five minutes with which to close the album. If only Five the Hierophant had stopped at the end of “Uroboros” (or, I suppose, swapped the two tracks), this could have been a far superior experience. As it is, Apeiron finishes on a disappointing siding, rather than a triumphant main line.

The production on Apeiron is a significant step up from previous albums. Rich and dynamic, it imbues Five the Hierophant’s sound with genuine power, while the master allows the legion of constituent elements sufficient breathing room. Indeed, it’s not just the production, but also the songwriting that represents a significant step up. Where Through Aureate Void meandered aimlessly, Apeiron feels like a journey, albeit with diversions and detours en route. If Five the Hierophant can now finetune their process to maintain the feel they’ve imbued Apeiron with, while slightly reducing the structural predictability, their next record will be truly masterful.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: five-the-hierophant.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/fivethehierophant
Releases Worldwide: October 18th, 2024

#2024 #30 #AgoniaRecords #Ambient #Apeiron #AvanteGarde #Briqueville #BritishMetal #DoomJazz #Drone #FiveTheHierophant #NeptunianMaximalism #Oct24 #PanThyMonium #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #WhiteWard

Five the Hierophant – Apeiron Review

By Carcharodon

I wanted to love Five the Hierophant’s last album, 2021’s Through Aureate Void. I really did. Alas, it was not to be. However, after seeing them play a great set at ArcTanGent in 2022, I revisited that record. While I stand by everything in that review, including the 2.0, which some viewed as harsh, the potential was clear and Five the Hierophant was tantalizingly close to delivering a worthy follow-up to their very good debut, Over Phlegethon. The British quartet’s brand of psychedelic, jazz-inspired, instrumental post-metal had elements of greatness marred by meandering, over-indulgent songwriting that lacked standout ideas. However, I can’t think of another 2.0 that I’ve given, where I would be as genuinely interested and optimistic as I was going into Five the Hierophant’s third album, Apeiron. Could they tighten up the formula and deliver that great record I know they have in them?

While there is no paradigm shift in Five the Hierophant’s sound on Apeiron, there is a clear expansion of vision. Building on the model of Through Aureate Void, the foundation remains one of dark, sprawling atmospheres, pregnant with ambience and pent-up threat (“Tower of Silence I”). The backbone of Five the Hierophant’s sound is built around bass, guitar, drums, and other percussion, apeing the likes of BRIQUEVILLE to create a rich, textured post-metal soundscapes (title track). However, where some bands rely on a vocalist to punctuate and enhance their compositions, Five the Hierophant have Jon’s sax. Crooning, whispering, screaming, the sax commands the sound stage (“Uroboros”), just as it is allowed to do in places on White Ward’s albums also. However, not content to rest on its laurels, the band is ever-expanding its horizons, broadening the already extensive array of tools at their disposal to now include horns, trumpets, gongs, bells, violins, skull shakers, and more.

Apeiron is a Greek word meaning that which is unlimited or infinite. What Five the Hierophant do so well is to capture that sense of both scale and organic fluidity. The overarching drone and ambient elements feel boundless and vast, amplified as they are by not only the horns and violins (“Moon over Ziggurat” and the title track), but also the liberal use of effects (end of “Tower of Silence I” and closer, “Tower of Silence II”). The sax, as well as the trumpet and other adornments, then light up the inky void, sometimes flowing like quicksilver (“Moon over Ziggurat”), sometimes more challenging, insistent, even angry (the opening title track), occasionally recalling the freeform lines of Neptunian Maximalism or an instrumental Pan.Thy.Monium. Even as we slip into looser, more chaotic soundscapes (middle portion of “Initiatory Sickness”), the whole of Apeiron retains an identity and cohesion that does great credit to Five the Hierophant.

A cursory listen to Apeiron might suggest that Five the Hierophant has delivered a freeform creation, light on tangible structures. However, while this may be true using only traditional metal as your reference point, there is a model or blueprint for the material that runs through the record. Each track opens in languid mood and, even where there are threatening or forbidding overtones, the sound is delicate, restrained slow-burn. It then gradually builds towards something more powerful and cathartic, punctuated by chaotic forays along the way. Perhaps this basic mold is responsible for the cohesive feel of Apeiron. However, it also means that, after a few listens, you start to lose the sense of indefinite exploration and feel instead like you are on a moist, well-trodden, slightly predictable path. That said, despite only being four minutes shorter than Through Aureate Void, the material on Apeiron feels significantly tighter and less meandering, with the sole (and unfortunate) exception of “Tower of Silence II.” This was, sadly, entirely the wrong five minutes with which to close the album. If only Five the Hierophant had stopped at the end of “Uroboros” (or, I suppose, swapped the two tracks), this could have been a far superior experience. As it is, Apeiron finishes on a disappointing siding, rather than a triumphant main line.

The production on Apeiron is a significant step up from previous albums. Rich and dynamic, it imbues Five the Hierophant’s sound with genuine power, while the master allows the legion of constituent elements sufficient breathing room. Indeed, it’s not just the production, but also the songwriting that represents a significant step up. Where Through Aureate Void meandered aimlessly, Apeiron feels like a journey, albeit with diversions and detours en route. If Five the Hierophant can now finetune their process to maintain the feel they’ve imbued Apeiron with, while slightly reducing the structural predictability, their next record will be truly masterful.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: five-the-hierophant.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/fivethehierophant
Releases Worldwide: October 18th, 2024

#2024 #30 #AgoniaRecords #Ambient #Apeiron #AvanteGarde #Briqueville #BritishMetal #DoomJazz #Drone #FiveTheHierophant #NeptunianMaximalism #Oct24 #PanThyMonium #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #WhiteWard

Varathron – The Crimson Temple Review

By Doom_et_Al

“Always respect an old man still playing in a young man’s game,” the saying goes. “There’s a reason they’re still around.” With that in mind, it’s curious how little attention Greek black metal stalwarts, Varathon, generally receive. Formed 35 years ago in an era when many AMG staff had not been conceived, and Steel Druhm still had hair, Varathon were instrumental in establishing the famous “Hellenic black metal sound” alongside legends such as Rotting Christ and Macabre Omen. Perhaps it’s the frequent line-up changes, or the lengthy gap between albums (at 7 albums in 35 years, they’re no Rogga Johannson), or maybe it’s the long shadow cast by more famous contemporaries, but for whatever reason, these influential elders have long flown under the radar (only 2014’s Untrodden Corridors of Hades has been reviewed on this site). That’s a pity, because 2018’s Patriarchs of Evil was a fantastic slab of black metal goodness, crying out for TYMHM treatment. Now these legends are back with The Crimson Temple. Does the AMG Law of Diminishing ReturnsTM apply? Or does wisdom keep the inevitable at bay?

What’s always set Varathron apart from many pretenders is their willingness to incorporate elements of traditional metal into the black metal aesthetic. Yes, you’ve got the occult influences; yes, you’ve got the synths and the tremolos; but what you may not be expecting is the strong emphasis on riff-based melodies and a classic approach to songwriting. No long, pointless doodles or interludes… no, what we have here is verse-chorus-verse of the good stuff, with minimal bloat or drag. As their career has progressed, Varathon’s production have improved massively, with the music becoming more melodic and accessible. As we arrive at The Crimson Temple, we are, by black metal standards, in accessible territory, with Varathon continuing the trend of shinier production, catchier melodies, and a lighter approach. There’s also an embrace of slightly different styles (thrash, doom, and death metal all weave their way in). It’s with these explorations that things go slightly awry. While never unenjoyable, the new forays result in the band occasionally getting bogged down.

The Crimson Temple starts incredibly strongly, with three bangers right out of the gate. “Hegemony of Chaos,” “Crypts in the Mist,” and “Cimmerian Priesthood” highlight what makes Varathon such a potent outfit. There’s a perfect blend of evil atmosphere, catchy melodies, strong performances, and that uniquely Hellenic propulsion. These songs move, and they do so with purpose and momentum. I defy you not to tap your foot while listening to the chorus of “Crypts in the Mist.” Go on, just try it. If we’d had an album of these, we would all be rearranging our end-of-year lists. This approach isn’t completely abandoned in the second half, but only “Shrouds of the Miasmic Winds” comes close to capturing the early magic.

The Crimson Temple loses its footing when it marches gamely into realms Varathon aren’t as adept in. “Immortalis Regnum Diaboli,” with its emphasis on thrash, is only partially convincing, and that’s when the chorus steers back to black metal. “To the Gods of Yore” goes for a doomy, slower vibe that’s atmospheric, but boring. Varathon did this slow-song trick before, but whereas the more sedate parts on albums such as Patriarchs of Evil had gorgeous, melancholic synths, here we just have plodding guitars. It’s also a pity that most of the good material appears on the first half of the album, making it feel very unbalanced. There’s a noticeable loss of momentum as you head into the final quarter.

The Crimson Temple is incredibly frustrating to review. When it’s on fire, it’s excellent, highlighting what a potent and enjoyable band Varathron can be. I understand they wanted to experiment and avoid making an album of the same song repeated 10 times. But when that song is such a banger, I suppose I wanted them to do just that. The Crimson Temple shows that Varathon are not content to fly on autopilot in the twilight of their career. But sometimes, with age, comes wisdom. And wisdom is knowing what you’re good at and sticking with it. If there is another album in 6-7 years, I would love Varathon to consider that.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: varathron.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/varathron
Released Worldwide: December 1st, 2023

#2023 #30 #AgoniaRecords #BlackMetal #Dec23 #GreekMetal #MacabreOmen #Review #Reviews #RottingChrist #Varathron

Varathron – The Crimson Temple Review

By Doom_et_Al

“Always respect an old man still playing in a young man’s game,” the saying goes. “There’s a reason they’re still around.” With that in mind, it’s curious how little attention Greek black metal stalwarts, Varathon, generally receive. Formed 35 years ago in an era when many AMG staff had not been conceived, and Steel Druhm still had hair, Varathon were instrumental in establishing the famous “Hellenic black metal sound” alongside legends such as Rotting Christ and Macabre Omen. Perhaps it’s the frequent line-up changes, or the lengthy gap between albums (at 7 albums in 35 years, they’re no Rogga Johannson), or maybe it’s the long shadow cast by more famous contemporaries, but for whatever reason, these influential elders have long flown under the radar (only 2014’s Untrodden Corridors of Hades has been reviewed on this site). That’s a pity, because 2018’s Patriarchs of Evil was a fantastic slab of black metal goodness, crying out for TYMHM treatment. Now these legends are back with The Crimson Temple. Does the AMG Law of Diminishing ReturnsTM apply? Or does wisdom keep the inevitable at bay?

What’s always set Varathron apart from many pretenders is their willingness to incorporate elements of traditional metal into the black metal aesthetic. Yes, you’ve got the occult influences; yes, you’ve got the synths and the tremolos; but what you may not be expecting is the strong emphasis on riff-based melodies and a classic approach to songwriting. No long, pointless doodles or interludes… no, what we have here is verse-chorus-verse of the good stuff, with minimal bloat or drag. As their career has progressed, Varathon’s production have improved massively, with the music becoming more melodic and accessible. As we arrive at The Crimson Temple, we are, by black metal standards, in accessible territory, with Varathon continuing the trend of shinier production, catchier melodies, and a lighter approach. There’s also an embrace of slightly different styles (thrash, doom, and death metal all weave their way in). It’s with these explorations that things go slightly awry. While never unenjoyable, the new forays result in the band occasionally getting bogged down.

The Crimson Temple starts incredibly strongly, with three bangers right out of the gate. “Hegemony of Chaos,” “Crypts in the Mist,” and “Cimmerian Priesthood” highlight what makes Varathon such a potent outfit. There’s a perfect blend of evil atmosphere, catchy melodies, strong performances, and that uniquely Hellenic propulsion. These songs move, and they do so with purpose and momentum. I defy you not to tap your foot while listening to the chorus of “Crypts in the Mist.” Go on, just try it. If we’d had an album of these, we would all be rearranging our end-of-year lists. This approach isn’t completely abandoned in the second half, but only “Shrouds of the Miasmic Winds” comes close to capturing the early magic.

The Crimson Temple loses its footing when it marches gamely into realms Varathon aren’t as adept in. “Immortalis Regnum Diaboli,” with its emphasis on thrash, is only partially convincing, and that’s when the chorus steers back to black metal. “To the Gods of Yore” goes for a doomy, slower vibe that’s atmospheric, but boring. Varathon did this slow-song trick before, but whereas the more sedate parts on albums such as Patriarchs of Evil had gorgeous, melancholic synths, here we just have plodding guitars. It’s also a pity that most of the good material appears on the first half of the album, making it feel very unbalanced. There’s a noticeable loss of momentum as you head into the final quarter.

The Crimson Temple is incredibly frustrating to review. When it’s on fire, it’s excellent, highlighting what a potent and enjoyable band Varathron can be. I understand they wanted to experiment and avoid making an album of the same song repeated 10 times. But when that song is such a banger, I suppose I wanted them to do just that. The Crimson Temple shows that Varathon are not content to fly on autopilot in the twilight of their career. But sometimes, with age, comes wisdom. And wisdom is knowing what you’re good at and sticking with it. If there is another album in 6-7 years, I would love Varathon to consider that.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: varathron.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/varathron
Released Worldwide: December 1st, 2023

#2023 #30 #AgoniaRecords #BlackMetal #Dec23 #GreekMetal #MacabreOmen #Review #Reviews #RottingChrist #Varathron

ENTROPIA - Final (Official Track Stream)

https://youtu.be/STecIilXQRY

#music #metal #postmetal #entropia #agoniarecords

ENTROPIA - Final (Official Track Stream)

https://youtu.be/STecIilXQRY

#music #metal #postmetal #entropia #agoniarecords

ENTROPIA - Final (Official Track Stream)

https://youtu.be/STecIilXQRY

#music #metal #postmetal #entropia #agoniarecords

ENTROPIA - Final (Official Track Stream)

https://youtu.be/STecIilXQRY

#music #metal #postmetal #entropia #agoniarecords

ENTROPIA - Final (Official Track Stream)

https://youtu.be/STecIilXQRY

#music #metal #postmetal #entropia #agoniarecords

SADIST - Breathin' Cancer (30th Anniversary Edition)

https://youtu.be/T5g1x8o2LsY

#music #deathmetal #metal #sadist #agoniarecords

SADIST - Breathin' Cancer (30th Anniversary Edition)

https://youtu.be/T5g1x8o2LsY

#music #deathmetal #metal #sadist #agoniarecords

SADIST - Breathin' Cancer (30th Anniversary Edition)

https://youtu.be/T5g1x8o2LsY

#music #deathmetal #metal #sadist #agoniarecords

SADIST - Breathin' Cancer (30th Anniversary Edition)

https://youtu.be/T5g1x8o2LsY

#music #deathmetal #metal #sadist #agoniarecords

SADIST - Breathin' Cancer (30th Anniversary Edition)

https://youtu.be/T5g1x8o2LsY

#music #deathmetal #metal #sadist #agoniarecords