#angry-metal-guys-unsigned-band-rodeo-2025 — Public Fediverse posts

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

Though it may present a bit hyperbolic to say that Poland’s black and death metal scenes trample those of many other countries, the tension of young fervor and tradition weighs heavy in the hearts of riffslingers with something to say. We don’t wish turmoil on anyone, but with great struggles often comes an urge for loud, clear, and calamitous expression. New to the scene, Tarnobrzeg’s Blindfolded steps forth with their debut full-length What Seeps through Threads, a culmination of deathly tactics learned and refined over the course of their six years as a band. Boasting a range of influences from the swinging low-end drama of Gojira to the tumultuous fretboard fire of Decapitated, Blindfolded has a vision for something new from paths well-loved in the listening community. The Rodeö, however, is unforgiving. But every now and then, something comes out of left field to spark our spurs with fascination. – Dolphin Whisperer

Blindfolded // What Seeps through Threads [July 1st, 2025]

Gardenstale: This year’s Dormant Ordeal is an easy lister in my books, so it should come as no surprise that a Rodeö candidate using a pretty similar sound with a proggy twist elicits a big FUCK YEAH from me. Blindfolded brings an ingenious, potent mixture of Polish death metal with winding, labyrinthine structures, plenty of melodic licks, and burly, Vader-esque vocals. No fear of getting lost in wank, these guys hijack the hippocampus and the frontal cortex alike. “Frenzy of Exultations” alone should provide you with enough neck-snappery to use your vertebrae for confetti. It’s one of those rare albums that manage to unite groove, melody, technical chops (including an excellent drummer!), and sheer blunt brutality. And though it starts strong, it only gets better as it rolls on, with “Gates of Janus” building to an unforgiving steamroller with a hypnotic Gojira-esque riff and what might be the solo of the year. Death metal shouldn’t be too polished, but apparently, it can never be too Polish.1 4.0/5.0

What Seeps Through Threads by Blindfolded

Dolphin Whisperer: One part ambitious song structure and one part ferocious death metal groove, the young Polish Blindfolded strikes a hook-loaded balance of Oldpethian grandeur and riff-aggressive PolDeath whiplash. And, as a culmination of this fusion, a churning atmosphere embodies the acoustic intros and amplified tear-aways that propel What Seeps through Threads across a generous and genre-honing fifty-some-odd minutes. While retaining a modern compression in guitar attack and drum composition that helps throttle knotty fretwork into headbanging ears (“Great Day of His Wrath,” “Uneasy Absence of Fair Judgement”), the nimble troupe finds expressive string jangle in the longform lurches, like expositional title track or closing hop of “Gates of Janus.” No matter how long any track extends here, with the stankface-loaded “Frenzy of Exultations” even pushing the ten-plus minute mark, Blindfolded retains a sense of smart riff development, coordinated phlegmy mic assault, and punchy rhythmic adornments that keeps What Seeps stepping ever closer to greatness. Blindfolded hardly sounds like an act whose deathscapades totaled a mere ten minutes before this full-length sweep. And with as weighty a sound as they’ve assembled, it’s only a matter of a little refinement in transition and spaciousness in sound capture that sees the young Poles going toe-to-toe with their celebrated countrymen and hyped deathmongers alike. 3.5/5.0

Alekhines Gun – What a debut! Forming in 2019, Blindfolded seek to make a serious impression in their first outing. What Seeps through Threads is a well-crafted release which manages to meld theatrical songwriting with a Blood Mantra-era Decapitated sense of frantic assault. Weaving Opeth song structures throughout, Blindfolded manage to shift from chug-riddled pain-bringing (“Aeonian Lie”) to the moody solos which lend pathos and dynamics in song structure. A spacious mix lets everything ring out, from bass warbles to Bartłomiej Fucia’s gruff vocals, which maintain an understandable intonation instead of leaning in on sheer brutality. Despite all of the songs being rather lengthy, (the shortest coming in at just shy of six minutes), a healthy ebb-and-flow throughout keeps riffs from repeating often or devolving into monotony. What Seeps through Threads nails the “album as a journey” aesthetic, rendering its near-hour-long runtime far shorter than it sounds. A keen sense of drama in the composition imbues each song with its own identity, while still serving the greater album narrative. I don’t know if this was a concept album or not, but if it isn’t, Blindfolded should certainly pursue such ideas as they have the talent and skill for a high-class of aural storytelling. In the meantime, come and enjoy a remarkably mature release from Poland’s newest offspring. 3.5/5.0

Thyme: When it comes to death metal, I’m like Lynyrd Skynryd, which is to say a “Simple Man.” Give me a heaping plate of meat ‘n’ taters death and I’m good to go, but that’s not to say I can’t enjoy a platter requiring a more refined palate. With debut album What Seeps through Threads, Blindfolded, and not that bunch guided sightlessly into the forest, offer a plate full of progressive death metal requiring me to dress nice, sit up straight, and know which is the fucking salad fork. Hailing from Poland, these five relative unknowns are poised to crash my impending end-of-year party with their Opeth-meets-Archspire brand of techened death. Kacper Wąsik and Marcel Kucharski present a shredding tour de force, showcasing myriad guitar skills comprised of massive, vicious riffs and a maelstrom of solo work that flows from the technically precise to the emotionally melancholy (“The Great Day of His Wrath,” “In The Eye of Maelstrom”) and, for some added spice, silky smooth jazz-guitar interludes (“Uneasy Absence of Fair Judgment”) that you won’t see coming but won’t kick out of bed. Bartloniej Fucia’s voice—a perfect blend of Mikael Åkerfeldt and Oliver Rae Aleron—complements the instrumentation, rounded out by Zygmunt Haliniarz’s bass and Kacper Rajfur’s stellar drumming. From the opening piano strains of “What Seeps through Threads” to the impeccable closer “Gates of Janus,” Blindfolded presents an album full of dramatic tension and incredible performances. Beautifully brutal, What Seeps through Threads was not on my 2025 bingo card, but it’s likely you’ll see Blindfolded’s name pop up again, at least for me, come list season. 4.0/5.0

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Acrid Rot – Where Flesh Transcends… Man Stands Tall

By Killjoy

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

Surprise! You probably noticed that I am not, in fact, Dolph. Welcome to a special edition of the Unsigned Band Rodeö exclusively featuring all five members of the Freezer Crew.1 Originally admitted as part of the 2021 casting call, our n00b class was summarily put on ice for a few years until management remembered us the Internet was ready to receive our correct opinions. Due to these unorthodox circumstances, we of the Crew are firm believers in the “better late than never” philosophy. This proved fortunate for the death/doom/sludge group Acrid Rot, who sent us their debut album Where Flesh Transcends… Man Stands Tall on the very day of its release. Normally, this is a good way to not get a review, but in this case they get five! Without further ado, let’s examine how well this young spitfire band from Pennsylvania capitalizes on the second chance they’ve been given. – Killjoy

Acrid Rot // Where Flesh Transcends… Man Stands Tall [July 21st, 2025]

Alekhines Gun: ”Wiser, Older, Still Hates Sludge” is one of our many banner themes in these hallowed halls. And yet, for every subgenre we hate2 there comes such a well-constructed illustration of the idea that it defies the sn00tiness of even such “above it all” outfits as us, The Freezer Crew. Acrid Rot classify themselves as doom/death/sludge, and while there isn’t really all that much doom, there’s definitely some well-crafted sludgy death. Where Flesh Transcends… is a moody beast, littered in modern The Acacia Strain gloom and an approach to emotive riff-craft adjacent to Terminal Nation and Fuming Mouth. “Where Fangs Supplant Teeth” is as clear of an album mission statement as any, with a chug-centric, lead-slathered construction seemingly showing the whole album’s hand. And yet, the deeper you go, the more Acrid Rot unfurl tendrils in other directions, with “The Torment of Mending” recalling the years of metalcore before that was a dirty word. Surprisingly, acoustic interludes (“A Night Upon the Mire”, “Blood Upon the Cabin Floor”) don’t come across as filler, instead adding more to the mood pervasive through the album in a vein similar to Morbid Angel’s “Desolate Ways.” Some switched-up track sequencing might help Where Flesh Transcends…feel less like an album with two sides (particularly the back half featuring cleans which, while not bad, definitely sound dated and out of place). Otherwise, Acrid Rot have dropped a debut to redeem the honor of deathly sludge in these halls and is worthy of your time. 3.5/5.0

Killjoy: Acrid Rot’s identity seems to be in a constant state of flux, even for a new band. Where Flesh Transcends… Man Stands Tall initially struck me as a post-ier Warcrab, ricocheting between death, doom, sludge, and post metal with reckless abandon. The common denominator is lots of grimy yet groovy riffs which, when coupled with Matt Weisberg’s venomous growls yields a pleasurably abrasive result. Acrid Rot makes a positive first impression with opener “Where Fangs Supplant Teeth,” successfully navigating nearly 8 minutes with a feral statement of intent before transitioning to a crushing doom section midway through. There are still some good times to follow, but after this point the pacing becomes choppy and a bit puzzling at times. “To Wallow in Infirmity” is a coarse death metal-leaning track with a slightly underdeveloped outro. “Desidarium” and “The Torment of Mending” both mine similar veins of weighty death-doom, the latter experimenting with clean vocals to middling effect. The two acoustic guitar-picked interludes, “A Night Upon the Mire” and “Blood Upon the Cabin Floor,” don’t add a whole lot, and just one (or none) of them would have sufficed. Where Flesh Transcends… Man Stands Tall is worthy of at least a few spins but the overall quality isn’t quite consistent enough to have much staying power for me. 2.5/5.0

Owlswald: Formed in 2022, Pennsylvania-based death/sludge quintet Acrid Rot is a young band and it shows on their debut album, Where Flesh Transcends…Man Stands Tall. Although the record shows glimmers of potential, its consistency and execution are frustratingly uneven. Acrid Rot is at its best when the group finds its focus. Tracks like “Desidarium” and the title track are highlights, featuring tight arrangements, quality songwriting and potent, hooky Edge of Sanity-esque riffing that hint at a promising future once the fivesome fully hones its voice. Unfortunately, these standout moments are too few and far between and, as a whole, the album feels more like a rough draft than a final product. While the riffs and vocals lay a raw, powerful foundation, the drumming holds back the songwriting. It feels loose and lacks the precision and energy needed on tracks like “Salvation’s Pointed Knife,” “To Wallow in Infinity” and “The Torment of Meaning.” Other songs, like “Where Fangs Supplant Teeth” and “The Weight of Impermanence,” overstay their welcome without offering enough originality, leaning on repetitive riffs and breakdowns that occasionally stray into generic groove and nu-metal territory. In the end, Where Flesh Transcends…Man Stands Tall is a disappointing effort that lacks the polish and creativity for lasting appeal, leaving me to hope that this debut is a mere stepping stone for Acrid Rot and not a sign of what’s to come. Disappointing.

Thyme: Come now, all ye listeners of other things, and prepare to have thy face stanked and thy neck destroyed via vigorous whipped lashings. Pennsylvania’s new sludge act, Acrid Rot, dropped their big ugly Crowbar of a debut album, Where Flesh Transcends…Man Stands Tall in July. Flush with enough fat, meaty riffs to keep even the snobbiest of sludge-esieurs satiated, there’s tons o’ melody in them thar hills as well (“Where Fangs Supplant Teeth,” “The Weight of Impermanence”). Once the two-man project of multi-instrumentalist Dax Giglio and vocalist Matt Weisberg, Acrid Rot has expanded into a full-fledged five-piece with enough chops to suggest a group that has been together for way longer. My nod to Crowbar stands as the best comparison, as Acrid Rot execute perfectly on the template that those Nola-ns established with ’91’s Obedience Through Suffering. Weisberg matches Kirk Windstein blow for blow, his gruff, sludgy grunts and gravelly tones (“The Torment of Mending”) a dead ringer for Crowbar’s front man, but with the ace of some absolutely guttural, deathly growls up his sleeve (“Desidarium”) to slide out and win the hand. Where Flesh Transcends…Man Stands Tall is one monstrous riff-fest of a debut, and aside from a couple of much-needed acoustic interludes that I enjoyed as well, there wasn’t a moment of this forty-three-minute monster that didn’t have me testing the boundaries of my cervical spine. Why Acrid Rot aren’t signed yet is a mystery, but I’ll guarantee you they won’t stay unsigned for long. 3.5/5.0

ClarkKent: That stench pervading Pennsylvania is none other than Acrid Rot, a group of young upstarts unleashing their debut album on the unwitting masses. Where Flesh Transcends… contains a set of rancid sludge that seamlessly alternates between the creep of doom to more up-tempo death metal. The musicians have a restrained discipline in their approach to the music, allowing ideas to fester develop organically without feeling overlong. It helps that the riffs are a cut above average, and there’s a fair amount of variety. Speaking of variety, vocalist Matt Weisberg is all over the place, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. He alternates between punky shouts and powerful doom growls, but he also manages to surprise with some old school Beastie Boys-like yells (“To Wallow in Infinity”) and slam gurgles (“Where Flesh Transcends…Man Stands Tall”). This variety helps prevent the record from growing stale. With a DR 9, Where Flesh Transcends… is well-produced and sounds appropriately putrid, but for something that leans doom I found the drums to be a bit on the weak side. The compositions are the work of mature musicians—a little more bite to the instruments would have elevated the whole package. Nonetheless, Acrid Rot prove themselves a promising new face in the sludge scene. 3.0/5.0

#2025 #AcridRot #AmericanMetal #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #BeastieBoys #Crowbar #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #EdgeOfSanity #FumingMouth #Jul25 #MorbidAngel #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #SludgeMetal #TerminalNation #TheAcaciaStrain #Warcrab #WhereFleshTranscendsManStandsTall

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Empyrean Sanctum – Detachment from Reality

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

More so than any other one thing, passion drives the underground. And within this world of passion, like-minded individuals find their partners in expression—or at least helping hands. Often, this can lead to us as hungry consumers to find out new acts via association. In fact, I stumbled upon the Chicago-helmed Empyrean Sanctum via research into associated acts of Katagory V vocalist Albert Rybka. And my intrigue grew further in reading that captain of the riffs Justin Kellerman had contracted the extraordinary rhythm duo of Hannes Grossman (just read his credits) and Alex Weber (Exist, WAIT, and more) for this sophomore Detachment from Reality. With a keen sense for guitar crunch, and a strong individual spirit as a guide, could Empyrean Sanctum’s progressive power charms win over our staunchy Rodeö crew? Follow passion down the sci-fi dystopia rabbit hole… – Dolphin Whisperer

Empyrean Sanctum // Detachment from Reality [April 18th, 2025]

El Cuervo: It may not be my first pick — as it might have been 15 years ago — but I always have time for progressive power metal. It’s a sub-genre that oozes immediacy, from crunchy guitars to energetic singers to vibrant synths. Empyrean Sanctum tick these boxes and further dare to border real brutality to gild their heaviest moments across Detachment from Reality. “Lifeless Death” is the easy highlight, boasting uplifting synths and the heroic guitar solos that these guys evidently enjoy playing. However, I find the songs — and as a consequence the album overall — to be interminable. It’s the type of release where I check how many tracks have passed, but it’s only been four minutes and I’m still on the same one. The bookends (“Heart of Gold” and “Elation”) are the longest, which makes starting and restarting the album more arduous than it should be. And the production is also a thick shield to my listening pleasure. The master is obnoxiously loud, and the instrumental tones have a ‘clacky’, inorganic sound that’s anathema to my ears. There’s solid music buried here, but it’s just too difficult to access. 2.0/5.0

Dolphin Whisperer: In a genre so overtaken by re-amped chug-a-lug polyrhythms, it’s refreshing to hear Empyrean Sanctum’s adherence to the melodic backbone of ’00s progressive power metal.1 You know the kind—wailing, synth-backed, bright riffage championed by titans like Threshold or Anubis Gate and glued together with knotty Petrucci (Dream Theater) energy. At least that’s where I feel main mind, Justin Kellerman lives in composition. And in this lane, Detachment from Reality swaggers through riff after riff in an elegant manner, both wearing its length on tracks that ring slower to bubble and burst (“Transparency,” “Lifeless Death”) and sauntering through groovy growth and reprisal with ease (“Heart of Gold,” “Age of Innocence,” “Refinement”). But even when its over-chorused character—Albert Rybka (Katagory V) often finding a classic nasal croon and tasteful falsetto crescendo—hits a touch long in the tooth, Kellerman’s ear for a fitting riff transition alongside Hannes Grossman’s urge to progress and explode his thundering skins keeps the lull at bay. Many of these touches are subtle though, as Kellerman does not guide Empyrean Sanctum via guitar flamboyance and solo trade-offs—guest soloist Per Nilsson (Scar Symmetry, Kaipa) provides just about the only mark in that lane throughout (“Age of Innocence”). This straightforward and tuneful nature, however, plays enough as a successful choice rather than an unintentional miss on the noodle front. And if Kellerman and Empyrean Sanctum ever look to swing for the fences again with a heavier hand in wanksville, his slick compositions may land with an extra imprint and oomph. 3.0/5.0

Mystikus Hugebeard: As it stands, Detachment from Reality is a cool album. The problem is that it’s on the cusp of being an absolutely fuckin’ radical album, and falls just short. To their credit, Empyrean Sanctum nails the rhythm section. Dynamic bass-playing and inventive drum lines augment the guitars, which strike and strike in a percussive heartbeat. “Descent” is a particularly gripping track, a straightforward melody and powerful chorus over a ceaseless chug and strum. The production also lends a beefy heft to the guitars, empowering the riffs in a way that reminds me of the best parts of Hemina without the debilitating stench of cheese. The sticking point is how Detachment from Reality always teeters on the edge of inventive, daring song-craft, but never seems to commit. Apart from some slick guitar work in “Heart of Gold” and the delicious Per Nilsson guest solo in the title track, the lead guitars are rarely allowed the space to do anything befitting the virtuosity of the rest of the music. The songwriting feels more satisfied to shuffle from one riff to the next without erupting into something truly dynamic and challenging, resulting in a dearth of moments that stand out in my memory. It’s like the soundfont of a progressive song structure applied to something less audacious, which really drags the repetition of “Lifeless Death” and “Elation” into an unflattering light. Ultimately, it’s less a fundamental flaw as much as it is untapped potential. Complain though I might, Detachment from Reality deserves your listen. 3.0/5.0

Clark Kent: Empyrean Sanctum’s Detachment from Reality is everything that I love about metal. The album has meticulously crafted long-form songs that seamlessly weave from movement to movement so they never overstay their welcome. Empyrean Sanctum borrows their sound from latter-day Blind Guardian and Symphony X, but without the bombast. There’s a restraint and maturity to the songwriting that makes it feel comforting. In fact, even Mrs. Kent, who usually despises my music, gives her stamp of approval. Detachment from Reality features symphonic progressive metal with orchestration and synths used as an accent rather than the main feature. You get the feeling of joy and composure from all the players: when Albert Rybka’s gruff cleans belt out the chorus of “Age of Innocence,” or Justin Kellerman moves from rhythm to fancy fretwork, or Hannes Grossman provides mid-tempo drumming that serves as a steady beacon throughout the album. I found plenty to enjoy on each song: excellent solos, moody synths, emotive singing, and surprises like the piano on “Lifeless Death” and the heart-pumping riffs on “Refinement.” One might scoff at the length, but it’s so easy to get lost in the mesmerizing melodies that the hour just flies by. With the album’s spacey synths, intergalactic riffs, and out-of-this-world vocals, this makes me feel right at home. 4.0/5.0

#AmericanMetal #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #AnubisGate #BlindGuardian #DreamTheater #EmpyreanSanctum #Hemina #IndependentRelease #KatagoryV #May25 #PowerMetal #ProgPower #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #SymphonyX #Threshold

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Kalaveraztekah – Nikan Axkan

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

The Rodeö is full of surprises. Today’s potential riff trap hails from the arid lands of Aguascalientes, Mexico, known most famously for its array of hot springs and National Museum of Death. Yes, in death Kalaveraztekah revels, and not just in a death metal groove indebted to the jagged scrawl of Morbid Angel or the destructive howl of early Behemoth. With a healthy inclusion of pre-Hispanic, indigenous instrumentation alongside their chunky and pinch-addled drive, Nikan Axkan churns and tumbles through chants and thunderous drum roll to shine a light on the Mexica culture and history of sacrifice and spirit world. To excavate the wonders that the adventurous Kalaveraztekah holds hidden in the underground, we’ve assembled a crack Rodeö crew, including an appearance from The Man, The Myth, The AMG Himself. Surely that means that everyone followed the word count, right? – Dolphin Whisperer

Kalaveraztekah // Nikan Axkan [May 2nd, 2025]

AMG Himself: Kalaveraztekah’s Nikan Axkan represents hopes and dreams that I have harbored for years. When will we finally get the seminal piece of Aztec-influenced extreme metal that will whet my appetite for both death metal and Mesoamerican history?1 With aplomb, these astonishingly unsigned Aguascalientes-ites2 do the fine job of balancing two equally vital parts of a single sound. Kalaveraztekah hits like a ton of bricks, dealing in death metal that’s neither old nor school, it’s just brutal and grindy, tempered only by peyote-fueled excursions into the netherworld. The core of their sound is brutal Mexican death metal replete with blasts and machine gun kicks, neck-damaging riffing, pig-squealing guitars, brutal growls (and occasionally less-brutal screamies) synced with the snare, and an intensity that I associate with writing reviews of bands like Vomitory or Crypta. It’s got the riffs and intensity with just a touch of melody, and I bask in its brutality and shreddy, squealy solos. Kalaveraztekah’s particular innovation in this sphere is the successful inclusion of traditional folk elements from the indigenous people located throughout Mexico, but which is today used almost exclusively for the Mexica people of Tenochtitlan (which is modern-day Mexico City).3 Kalaveraztekah’s focus on “Aztec Cosmogony” lends itself perfectly to the second part of their unique sound: dreamy folk soundscapes that they adapt seamlessly—and convincingly—when they shift gear. Driven by reverb-soaked soundscapes, Spanish guitars,4 and what I assume is a tlapitzalli (flute), the band lends atmosphere and dynamics that are necessary to offset a style of death metal that at times can risk monotony. And when they meet, these two sounds crash into each other like storm fronts, creating something beautiful and terrible to behold, simultaneously brutal and thoughtful, grindy and melodic, atmospheric and immediate. I fuckin’ love this shit.

Next up on my befolkened death metal bucketlist: the Olmecs! 4.0/5.0

Dear Hollow: What’s great about Kalaveraztekah is their ability to channel their heritage into an homage to the Mexica that sounds ancient, cosmic, and brutal. Featuring a blend not unlike the formidable shaman-themed Hell:on, the lethal fusion of cutthroat death metal and folk instruments offers balance: wild guitar solos, haunting flutes, terrifying death whistles, and ritualistic drums shine amid the no-frills Sulphur Aeon-esque riffs. While similarities to other Mexico-based Aztec- or Mayan-themed groups are unavoidable, Pre-Hispanic folk instrumentation is not mere novelty like it is for Ocelotl or Eunoë, nor is it an atmospheric saturation of bloody sacrifice in the manner of Aztlan or Cemican – rather, Kalaveraztekah uses ritualistic and ceremonial elements to amplify the cyclical cosmic grandiosity of the Five Suns in an album of both creation and devastation. Nikan Axkan offers riffs galore (“Tlazolteotl,” “Xiuhtekuhtli Weweteotl”), haunting overtures with spoken word that recall sacrificial ecstasy and the vast rotting realms of the gods (“Yowaltecuhtli,” “Illwikatl Meztli”), and just enough techy flavors of soaring intensity and dissonant menace to warrant diversity and complexity (“Xolotl Axolotl,” “Xiuhmolpili”). While the album is a tad overlong at nearly fifty minutes, Kalaveraztekah’s approach straddles the line between violently visceral and gloriously colossal – truly “el amanecer del nuevo sol” indeed. 4.0/5.0

Iceberg: I love it when an album requires me to do some research to unwrap its mysteries. Before I came across Nikan Axlan I had precious little knowledge of Aztec mythology. But now, thanks to Aguascalientes natives Kalaveraztekah, I can confidently tell my Xolotls from my Axolotls. Kalaveraztekah’s sonic template skews more groove than death metal, but the inclusion of a host of traditional instruments keeps the music refreshing and thoroughly unnerving. The tribal drums and wind instruments maintain a constant otherworldly atmosphere, and the extraneous vocal additions are excellent (the frantic spoken word of “Yowaltekuhtli” and the Wilhelm screams of “Xolotl Axolotl”). Kalaveraztekah aren’t content to sit in any one corner with their instruments either. The trebly blues tone of “Yowaltekuhtli” feels ripped from a Los Lonely Boys album, and the sweeping neoclassical riff that forms the backbone of “Xiuhmolpilli” screams symphodeath BOMBAST.5 The biggest drawback for me here is that in leaning so far into the groove metal style, the BPM goes stale in its mid-paced swagger. Given everything else that Kalaveraztekah unleashes on Nikan Axkan, I’m left wondering what this band would sound like if they really stepped on the gas and hit that NOS button (although the opening riff of “Wewekyotl” gets pretty damn close). That quibble aside, Nikan Axkan is a compelling and replayable record, and a great trip into the dark, bizarre world of Aztec mythology. I highly recommend this album for those looking for some tasty groove metal with a bit of strange on the side. 3.5/5.0

Alekhines Gun: Move over Tzompantli, there’s a new band in town. Channeling the instrumental flourishes of Nechochwen filtered through something adjacent to The Zenith Passage in production,6 Kalaveraztekah have presented a slab of agave scented folky melodic death so meticulously constructed and well produced that I’m actually stunned it’s an independent release. From the triumphant flourishes dotting the leads in “Yowaltekuhtli” to the thunderous tribal percussion-laced breakdowns in “Xiuhtekuhtli Weweteotl”, Nikan Axkan never wants for a variety of gripping moments. A sense of propulsion flows through the album, rendering the occasional interludes atmospheric rather than momentum-killing. Songs like “Xolotl Axolotl” feature heaps of skronk and tawngy tech only to instantly be offset by indigenous instruments and melodic atmospherics in equal measure. True, each individual track feels a bit long in the tooth and seem as though they could benefit from some editing, and I wish the bottom end didn’t sound so artificial. Nevertheless, every time I found myself thinking such thoughts I was suddenly blown away by some excellent new riff or lovely melody from wood instruments or percussion, slotting neatly into the album’s reasonable runtime. Nikan Axhan is an album with a remarkably matured and well-executed vision, and has been a gripping, engaging listen with each spin. Support this album. 3.5/5.0

Thyme: Most bands continually seek ways to bring originality into their work. For Aguascalientes, Mexico, five-piece death metal outfit Kalaveraztekah, that originality comes in the form of heaving helpings of Mesoamerican folk instrumentation, expertly woven into the deathly fabric of their sophomore album Nikan Azkan. Right off the bat, I felt transported to the middle of a Mexican rainforest as tribal drums and folkish guitar lines cede their delicate grip to Behemoth-like death riffs and a hellish vocal attack that rivals Nergal’s (“Nikan Axkan (El Aquí y El Ahora)”). When Nikan Azkan isn’t channeling Demigod levels of viciousness, its hybrid form of folk death conjures Roots-era Sepultura with sludgily dirty riffs, primitive death chants, and a plethora of indigenous instruments ranging from ocarinas to Aztec death whistles (“Xiuhtekuhtli Weweteotl (El Fuego Ancestral),” “Wewekoyotl (El Coyote Viejo)”). Kalaveraztekah brings loads of atmosphere to Nikan Axkan, especially on “Yowaltekuhtli (Un Sueño En La Oscuridad),” with its haunting instrumentation—the guitar work is top notch here—and the desperate, breathless pleas of the narrator conjuring tons of dramatic tension. On repeated spins, the magic within Nikan Axkan continues to unravel. While the meshing of Kalaveraztekah‘s death metal—standard as it may be—with its folk-forward instrumentation tends to blur tracks together, enjoyment didn’t dissipate the more I listened. Fans of what Tzompantli are doing would be hard-pressed to miss this, and I suggest they don’t. 3.0/5.0

Show 6 footnotes

1. Tzompantli doesn’t count ’cause they’re from California and they’re only “good.” ↩
2. I believe we call them Aguascalentenses. – Dolph ↩
3. Interesting to note that the band is from Aguascalientes, because the region was, in fact, the home of the Chichimeca groups, which, according to my deep research (yup, doin’ my own research just like RFK Jr. told me to!) became a kind of archetype of “noble savages” for both the Spaniards and the Mexica (Aztecs) in the 1500s. Rather than being a single group with a shared language, the Chichimeca groups were spread throughout central Mexico, and following the discovery of silver, they were war-crimed into a decades-long conflict and eventual decline, and by the beginning of the 1600s, they “disappeared as distinguishable cultural entities” (Schmal, 2019). Seven tribes would be the basis of a mighty seven-album conceptual cycle, my dudes. I’m just sayin’. ↩
4. Is that ironic? ↩
5. It really makes you wonder how far is heaven. – Dolph ↩
6. Surely, scooped tone production existed before The Zenith Passage. – Dolph ↩

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