#angrymetalguysunsignedbandrodeo — 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” 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” 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” 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” 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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 ↩

#AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #Aztec #Behemoth #Crypta #DeathMetal #FolkMetal #GrooveMetal #HellOn #IndependentRelease #Kalaveraztekah #LosLonelyBoys #May25 #MexicanMetal #MorbidAngel #Nechochwen #NikanAxkan #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sepultura #SulphurAeon #Tzompantli #Vomitory

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

#AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #Aztec #Behemoth #Crypta #DeathMetal #FolkMetal #GrooveMetal #HellOn #IndependentRelease #Kalaveraztekah #LosLonelyBoys #May25 #MexicanMetal #MorbidAngel #Nechochwen #NikanAxkan #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sepultura #SulphurAeon #Tzompantli #Vomitory

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

#AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #Aztec #Behemoth #Crypta #DeathMetal #FolkMetal #GrooveMetal #HellOn #IndependentRelease #Kalaveraztekah #LosLonelyBoys #May25 #MexicanMetal #MorbidAngel #Nechochwen #NikanAxkan #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sepultura #SulphurAeon #Tzompantli #Vomitory

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

#AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #Aztec #Behemoth #Crypta #DeathMetal #FolkMetal #GrooveMetal #HellOn #IndependentRelease #Kalaveraztekah #LosLonelyBoys #May25 #MexicanMetal #MorbidAngel #Nechochwen #NikanAxkan #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sepultura #SulphurAeon #Tzompantli #Vomitory

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

#AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #Aztec #Behemoth #Crypta #DeathMetal #FolkMetal #GrooveMetal #HellOn #IndependentRelease #Kalaveraztekah #LosLonelyBoys #May25 #MexicanMetal #MorbidAngel #Nechochwen #NikanAxkan #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sepultura #SulphurAeon #Tzompantli #Vomitory

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Exterior Palnet – Haragma II

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.”

Another year, another chance for the Rodeö to lasso a lurking but worthy buck. We do dirty business here at Angry Metal Guy and Sons, LLC, sifting promo after promo to catch a whiff of glory. But we do it all for the love of music, a love of exploration, and a love of dealing in the currency of informed and accurate opinions. Just ask the wise and appreciative minds of the powerful minds at Rolling Stone—they agree 12 we’re putting in the time!

But enough about us. You want to hear about Exterior Palnet, right? Don’t worry, they know that the word planet exists. These Croatian oddballs prefer to use a related and wholly untraceable word instead. And in that essence, Haragma II, their sophomore release, follows a musical path of likely patchwork influence and cross-genre reverence. Trv to black metal roots, a frosty trem and low-clack blast persists. Yet in tempo-fluid runs, Exterior Palnet finds a progressive, thrashy, and unpredictable attitude that sets their attack galaxies away from their frosty Norwegian forebears. So buckle up and prepare for extreme forces as you wrestle with the words our Cow Folk have for you today. And, if I’ve timed this right, this is the named debut of ascended n00b Owlswald (formerly 87).3 He’s a hoot. – Dolphin Whisperer

Exterior Palnet // Haragma II [January 24th, 2025]

El Cruevo: Exterior Palnet caused a ruckus in the AMG.com break room. “early Dødheimsgard plus [redacted shit-head black metal]4 wrapped in a [redacted shit-head thrash metal] package!” cried one individual. “[The band] is firing on all cylinders!” another gushed. When I was done cleaning their excrement off the ceilings, I learned that neither was wrong; Haragma II offers an avant-garde take on black metal executed with pummeling leads that sometimes wander into thrashy territory. But neither description clarified the reality that Exterior Palnet evoke the sadly-inactive A Forest of Stars; bolstered with additional pace and power, but weakened by a lack of dynamism and curiosity. Although the music has the sinister, inescapable feel of a spider’s web, it’s simply not very memorable or enjoyable. There are solid riffs, sure. And a warped, beastly attitude. Ordinarily these might fuse into something compelling. But I find myself drifting in and out while listening to Haragma II. For a record playing with such dissonance, heaviness and speed, the fact that it barely holds my attention rings the death knell. Now that my time with it is over, I have no interest whatsoever in returning. 2.0/5.0

Dolphin Whipserer: Yes, it will take more than one listen of Haragma II to settle into its particular brand of dreamy chaos. In a reckless manner, Exterior Palnet scatters crumbs of its mission about with twangy, swaggering groove that belies an incessant rhythmic trickery. Playing its hand first with the blasting and beguiling “Haragma” and “Zaphnath-Paaneah” feels like a sleight in the wake of the grandiose and wailing “Behind the Veil.” But understanding how it’s sudden hi-hat shuffle and endless bending mania can feel both natural and striking is key to unlocking the HII universe. Much like the early blackened scrawl of an early DHG—also informed by the progressive, narrative drama of the classic A Umbra Omega—a tangible mysticism lurks around every barked and battered word that escapes through Tomislav Hrastovec’s mic. Whether it’s the Hebrew prayer recital that closes “Beyond the Veil,” the surrealistic depiction of seasonless erosion of “Exoskeleton,” the elemental chant that guides the conclusion of “Haragma,” a shroud of existential disaster carves HII’s every edge—I’d suggest reading along with its words, which are all fully available on the Bandcamp page.5 The world we live in is bizarre, and Exterior Palnet does their very best to make sense of its senselessness through long dissonant resolves, whiplash pneumatic propulsions, and scraggly Voivodian bass drives. And yet, as “Heracleidae” stumbles to the total journey’s conclusion, a heroic melody casts a light of hope. Anecdotal, densely packed, and passing like the flash of a forgotten moment, Haragma II wears a brand of drama that drills shrill melody against swerving tempos in hopes to find a straight line. For some of us, the search is the answer. 3.5/5.0

Icebreg: Exterior Palnet are a tough nut to crack. Their music is dense and mechanical, rarely giving the listener an aural handhold. At first blush Haragma II presents as an unyielding barrage of dissonance layered on top of polyrhythm, sporting stream-of-consciousness style cavernous vocals. Amidst the scaling, wailing guitars and humming synths rages the beating heart of Exterior Palnet; a drummer6 who’s clearly read the mathcore brief. The undisputed star of this show, stuttering hi-hat rhythms and bursts of tom patterns reminiscent of Thomas Pridgen-era The Mars Volta live alongside monolithic blastbeats and wall-of-sound cymbal crashes. But exemplary performances don’t always translate into approachability, and Haragma II will rebuff all but the most determined musical excavators. Like staring into a Magic Eye puzzle, cycling chord structures and melodies appear in “Haragma” and “Exoskeletons,” but only after patient, focused listens. And while eleven-minute epic “Behind The Veil” revels in its noisy climax and grindy bookend riffs, it weights down the middle of an album that already suffers from potential fatigue issues. A break in the chaos appears in the twilight minutes of “Heracleidae,” and while my ears are thankful for the change in texture, the band’s performance doesn’t seem as tight as the rest of the album, making the section seem more mistake than intention. Exterior Palnet unflinchingly adhere to their style of blackened mathcore,7 and execute it well, but the lack of sonic relief here makes it a tough listen for this reviewer. 2.5/5.0

Alekihnes Gun: The “No Regerts” style named Exterior Palnet have descended from space. One look at the cover is an excellent setup for expectations; with its Voivod by way of Refrigerator Art décor, it’s clear something herky and jerky is on the horizon. Exterior Palnet manage to slide between an assembly of treble heavy riffs and melodies which inevitably walk back into more straightforward pummeling. Album centerpiece “Behind the Veil” is the real test for listener appreciation, clocking in at a whopping eleven minutes and managing to make each minute count with an assembly of moments ranging from mood setting sustained plucking scales to proper tremelos over blast beats. Haragma II doesn’t want for a glut of such moments, though the entirety of the album sounds more like a collection via stream of consciousness more than a series of cohesive songs. This is partially the fault of the mix, where the drums are produced so heavily as to drown out some of the clarity of the riffs on display, and the bass is reduced to an atonal rumble rather than function as support for the chord progressions. There’s a really fun atmosphere on display here and whiffs of excellence to be found across the album, if they can tighten the screws on the song writing a bit and get a mix to serve the overall presentation. 2.5/5

Thyme: Exterior Palnet‘s sophomore album, Haragma II, was slightly off-putting on the first listen, but it’s grown on me like some feral space rash. Riffs pinball in every direction, ranging from chaotically dissonant (“Haragma”) to pensively inquisitive (“Zaphnath-Paaneah”) as if tip-toeing through blackened tulips and sparking like schizophrenic flashbangs, recalling the experimental instrumentality of acts like Krallice, DsO, and early Dødheimsgard. It wasn’t until the twangy swing of “Behind the Veil” kicked in, however, that Exterior Palnet‘s claws really dug in. An eleven-minute odyssey and the album highlight, “Behind the Veil,” displays all the tricks in Exterior Palnet‘s bag. Bruno Čavara’s guitars crash and splash against each other in sprays of dissonant mist as he expertly ushers us across tremolodic waters and rifferous wastelands. With emotionally restless desperation, Tomislav Hrastovec’s tortured shouts and screams pair perfectly with Čavara’s intricate guitars and session bassist Vedran Rao Brlečić’s punchy low-end work. While no drummer was credited, programmed or not,8 the drums sound lush and vibrant, keeping the serpentine instrumentation in check, which is no small feat. My biggest gripe with Haragma II lies in the mix, which I find too loud. I know this is black metal, but there are so many interesting things happening here that I think the mix robs the listener, especially the casual ones, of experiencing the material’s full complexity. Ultimately, Exterior Palnet has released an album worthy of your time, and I hope you check it out. 3.0/5.0

Owlswald: My relationship with black metal is complicated. No longer drawn to the forthright tremolo and low-fi discords of old, I now find the genre’s more avant-garde forms satiating. This leads me to believe Croatia’s Exterior Palnet should be right up my alley, as they deliver a chaotic yet grounded sound that both captivates and overwhelms me in equal measure. Haragma II’s strength lies in its ability to generate a palpable sense of unease and restlessness through swarms of dissonant guitars, anguished cries and shifting tempos. Whether conjuring Deathspell Omega anxiety and agitation through its swirling and undulating soundscape (“Heracleidae”) or transmuting its frenetic energy via taut blasts and fills (“Exoskeletons,” “Zaphnath-Paaneah”), Haragama II is all about keeping the listener off-kilter. Despite its often exhausting intensity, Exterior Palnet offers brief but welcome respites, including the Doldrum-esque groovy syncopations within “Haragma” or the unexpected shoegaze-tinged textures ending “Behind the Veil.” Still, Haragma II’s songwriting would benefit from greater balance, as it currently prioritizes pandemonium through a loud, upfront mix. Exterior Palnet reach their peak when atmosphere, groove and prevailing intensity are in equilibrium. Haragma II proves there is still room for growth. Good.

#2025 #AForestOfStars #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #BlackMetal #CroatianMetal #Dödheimsgard #Doldrum #ExteriorPalnet #HaragmaII #IndependentRelease #Jan25 #Krallice #ProgressiveBlackMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #TheMarsVolta #Voivod

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Exterior Palnet – Haragma II

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.”

Another year, another chance for the Rodeö to lasso a lurking but worthy buck. We do dirty business here at Angry Metal Guy and Sons, LLC, sifting promo after promo to catch a whiff of glory. But we do it all for the love of music, a love of exploration, and a love of dealing in the currency of informed and accurate opinions. Just ask the wise and appreciative minds of the powerful minds at Rolling Stone—they agree 12 we’re putting in the time!

But enough about us. You want to hear about Exterior Palnet, right? Don’t worry, they know that the word planet exists. These Croatian oddballs prefer to use a related and wholly untraceable word instead. And in that essence, Haragma II, their sophomore release, follows a musical path of likely patchwork influence and cross-genre reverence. Trv to black metal roots, a frosty trem and low-clack blast persists. Yet in tempo-fluid runs, Exterior Palnet finds a progressive, thrashy, and unpredictable attitude that sets their attack galaxies away from their frosty Norwegian forebears. So buckle up and prepare for extreme forces as you wrestle with the words our Cow Folk have for you today. And, if I’ve timed this right, this is the named debut of ascended n00b Owlswald (formerly 87).3 He’s a hoot. – Dolphin Whisperer

Exterior Palnet // Haragma II [January 24th, 2025]

El Cruevo: Exterior Palnet caused a ruckus in the AMG.com break room. “early Dødheimsgard plus [redacted shit-head black metal]4 wrapped in a [redacted shit-head thrash metal] package!” cried one individual. “[The band] is firing on all cylinders!” another gushed. When I was done cleaning their excrement off the ceilings, I learned that neither was wrong; Haragma II offers an avant-garde take on black metal executed with pummeling leads that sometimes wander into thrashy territory. But neither description clarified the reality that Exterior Palnet evoke the sadly-inactive A Forest of Stars; bolstered with additional pace and power, but weakened by a lack of dynamism and curiosity. Although the music has the sinister, inescapable feel of a spider’s web, it’s simply not very memorable or enjoyable. There are solid riffs, sure. And a warped, beastly attitude. Ordinarily these might fuse into something compelling. But I find myself drifting in and out while listening to Haragma II. For a record playing with such dissonance, heaviness and speed, the fact that it barely holds my attention rings the death knell. Now that my time with it is over, I have no interest whatsoever in returning. 2.0/5.0

Dolphin Whipserer: Yes, it will take more than one listen of Haragma II to settle into its particular brand of dreamy chaos. In a reckless manner, Exterior Palnet scatters crumbs of its mission about with twangy, swaggering groove that belies an incessant rhythmic trickery. Playing its hand first with the blasting and beguiling “Haragma” and “Zaphnath-Paaneah” feels like a sleight in the wake of the grandiose and wailing “Behind the Veil.” But understanding how it’s sudden hi-hat shuffle and endless bending mania can feel both natural and striking is key to unlocking the HII universe. Much like the early blackened scrawl of an early DHG—also informed by the progressive, narrative drama of the classic A Umbra Omega—a tangible mysticism lurks around every barked and battered word that escapes through Tomislav Hrastovec’s mic. Whether it’s the Hebrew prayer recital that closes “Beyond the Veil,” the surrealistic depiction of seasonless erosion of “Exoskeleton,” the elemental chant that guides the conclusion of “Haragma,” a shroud of existential disaster carves HII’s every edge—I’d suggest reading along with its words, which are all fully available on the Bandcamp page.5 The world we live in is bizarre, and Exterior Palnet does their very best to make sense of its senselessness through long dissonant resolves, whiplash pneumatic propulsions, and scraggly Voivodian bass drives. And yet, as “Heracleidae” stumbles to the total journey’s conclusion, a heroic melody casts a light of hope. Anecdotal, densely packed, and passing like the flash of a forgotten moment, Haragma II wears a brand of drama that drills shrill melody against swerving tempos in hopes to find a straight line. For some of us, the search is the answer. 3.5/5.0

Icebreg: Exterior Palnet are a tough nut to crack. Their music is dense and mechanical, rarely giving the listener an aural handhold. At first blush Haragma II presents as an unyielding barrage of dissonance layered on top of polyrhythm, sporting stream-of-consciousness style cavernous vocals. Amidst the scaling, wailing guitars and humming synths rages the beating heart of Exterior Palnet; a drummer6 who’s clearly read the mathcore brief. The undisputed star of this show, stuttering hi-hat rhythms and bursts of tom patterns reminiscent of Thomas Pridgen-era The Mars Volta live alongside monolithic blastbeats and wall-of-sound cymbal crashes. But exemplary performances don’t always translate into approachability, and Haragma II will rebuff all but the most determined musical excavators. Like staring into a Magic Eye puzzle, cycling chord structures and melodies appear in “Haragma” and “Exoskeletons,” but only after patient, focused listens. And while eleven-minute epic “Behind The Veil” revels in its noisy climax and grindy bookend riffs, it weights down the middle of an album that already suffers from potential fatigue issues. A break in the chaos appears in the twilight minutes of “Heracleidae,” and while my ears are thankful for the change in texture, the band’s performance doesn’t seem as tight as the rest of the album, making the section seem more mistake than intention. Exterior Palnet unflinchingly adhere to their style of blackened mathcore,7 and execute it well, but the lack of sonic relief here makes it a tough listen for this reviewer. 2.5/5.0

Alekihnes Gun: The “No Regerts” style named Exterior Palnet have descended from space. One look at the cover is an excellent setup for expectations; with its Voivod by way of Refrigerator Art décor, it’s clear something herky and jerky is on the horizon. Exterior Palnet manage to slide between an assembly of treble heavy riffs and melodies which inevitably walk back into more straightforward pummeling. Album centerpiece “Behind the Veil” is the real test for listener appreciation, clocking in at a whopping eleven minutes and managing to make each minute count with an assembly of moments ranging from mood setting sustained plucking scales to proper tremelos over blast beats. Haragma II doesn’t want for a glut of such moments, though the entirety of the album sounds more like a collection via stream of consciousness more than a series of cohesive songs. This is partially the fault of the mix, where the drums are produced so heavily as to drown out some of the clarity of the riffs on display, and the bass is reduced to an atonal rumble rather than function as support for the chord progressions. There’s a really fun atmosphere on display here and whiffs of excellence to be found across the album, if they can tighten the screws on the song writing a bit and get a mix to serve the overall presentation. 2.5/5

Thyme: Exterior Palnet‘s sophomore album, Haragma II, was slightly off-putting on the first listen, but it’s grown on me like some feral space rash. Riffs pinball in every direction, ranging from chaotically dissonant (“Haragma”) to pensively inquisitive (“Zaphnath-Paaneah”) as if tip-toeing through blackened tulips and sparking like schizophrenic flashbangs, recalling the experimental instrumentality of acts like Krallice, DsO, and early Dødheimsgard. It wasn’t until the twangy swing of “Behind the Veil” kicked in, however, that Exterior Palnet‘s claws really dug in. An eleven-minute odyssey and the album highlight, “Behind the Veil,” displays all the tricks in Exterior Palnet‘s bag. Bruno Čavara’s guitars crash and splash against each other in sprays of dissonant mist as he expertly ushers us across tremolodic waters and rifferous wastelands. With emotionally restless desperation, Tomislav Hrastovec’s tortured shouts and screams pair perfectly with Čavara’s intricate guitars and session bassist Vedran Rao Brlečić’s punchy low-end work. While no drummer was credited, programmed or not,8 the drums sound lush and vibrant, keeping the serpentine instrumentation in check, which is no small feat. My biggest gripe with Haragma II lies in the mix, which I find too loud. I know this is black metal, but there are so many interesting things happening here that I think the mix robs the listener, especially the casual ones, of experiencing the material’s full complexity. Ultimately, Exterior Palnet has released an album worthy of your time, and I hope you check it out. 3.0/5.0

Owlswald: My relationship with black metal is complicated. No longer drawn to the forthright tremolo and low-fi discords of old, I now find the genre’s more avant-garde forms satiating. This leads me to believe Croatia’s Exterior Palnet should be right up my alley, as they deliver a chaotic yet grounded sound that both captivates and overwhelms me in equal measure. Haragma II’s strength lies in its ability to generate a palpable sense of unease and restlessness through swarms of dissonant guitars, anguished cries and shifting tempos. Whether conjuring Deathspell Omega anxiety and agitation through its swirling and undulating soundscape (“Heracleidae”) or transmuting its frenetic energy via taut blasts and fills (“Exoskeletons,” “Zaphnath-Paaneah”), Haragama II is all about keeping the listener off-kilter. Despite its often exhausting intensity, Exterior Palnet offers brief but welcome respites, including the Doldrum-esque groovy syncopations within “Haragma” or the unexpected shoegaze-tinged textures ending “Behind the Veil.” Still, Haragma II’s songwriting would benefit from greater balance, as it currently prioritizes pandemonium through a loud, upfront mix. Exterior Palnet reach their peak when atmosphere, groove and prevailing intensity are in equilibrium. Haragma II proves there is still room for growth. Good.

#2025 #AForestOfStars #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #BlackMetal #CroatianMetal #Dödheimsgard #Doldrum #ExteriorPalnet #HaragmaII #IndependentRelease #Jan25 #Krallice #ProgressiveBlackMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #TheMarsVolta #Voivod

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Exterior Palnet – Haragma II

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.”

Another year, another chance for the Rodeö to lasso a lurking but worthy buck. We do dirty business here at Angry Metal Guy and Sons, LLC, sifting promo after promo to catch a whiff of glory. But we do it all for the love of music, a love of exploration, and a love of dealing in the currency of informed and accurate opinions. Just ask the wise and appreciative minds of the powerful minds at Rolling Stone—they agree 12 we’re putting in the time!

But enough about us. You want to hear about Exterior Palnet, right? Don’t worry, they know that the word planet exists. These Croatian oddballs prefer to use a related and wholly untraceable word instead. And in that essence, Haragma II, their sophomore release, follows a musical path of likely patchwork influence and cross-genre reverence. Trv to black metal roots, a frosty trem and low-clack blast persists. Yet in tempo-fluid runs, Exterior Palnet finds a progressive, thrashy, and unpredictable attitude that sets their attack galaxies away from their frosty Norwegian forebears. So buckle up and prepare for extreme forces as you wrestle with the words our Cow Folk have for you today. And, if I’ve timed this right, this is the named debut of ascended n00b Owlswald (formerly 87).3 He’s a hoot. – Dolphin Whisperer

Exterior Palnet // Haragma II [January 24th, 2025]

El Cruevo: Exterior Palnet caused a ruckus in the AMG.com break room. “early Dødheimsgard plus [redacted shit-head black metal]4 wrapped in a [redacted shit-head thrash metal] package!” cried one individual. “[The band] is firing on all cylinders!” another gushed. When I was done cleaning their excrement off the ceilings, I learned that neither was wrong; Haragma II offers an avant-garde take on black metal executed with pummeling leads that sometimes wander into thrashy territory. But neither description clarified the reality that Exterior Palnet evoke the sadly-inactive A Forest of Stars; bolstered with additional pace and power, but weakened by a lack of dynamism and curiosity. Although the music has the sinister, inescapable feel of a spider’s web, it’s simply not very memorable or enjoyable. There are solid riffs, sure. And a warped, beastly attitude. Ordinarily these might fuse into something compelling. But I find myself drifting in and out while listening to Haragma II. For a record playing with such dissonance, heaviness and speed, the fact that it barely holds my attention rings the death knell. Now that my time with it is over, I have no interest whatsoever in returning. 2.0/5.0

Dolphin Whipserer: Yes, it will take more than one listen of Haragma II to settle into its particular brand of dreamy chaos. In a reckless manner, Exterior Palnet scatters crumbs of its mission about with twangy, swaggering groove that belies an incessant rhythmic trickery. Playing its hand first with the blasting and beguiling “Haragma” and “Zaphnath-Paaneah” feels like a sleight in the wake of the grandiose and wailing “Behind the Veil.” But understanding how it’s sudden hi-hat shuffle and endless bending mania can feel both natural and striking is key to unlocking the HII universe. Much like the early blackened scrawl of an early DHG—also informed by the progressive, narrative drama of the classic A Umbra Omega—a tangible mysticism lurks around every barked and battered word that escapes through Tomislav Hrastovec’s mic. Whether it’s the Hebrew prayer recital that closes “Beyond the Veil,” the surrealistic depiction of seasonless erosion of “Exoskeleton,” the elemental chant that guides the conclusion of “Haragma,” a shroud of existential disaster carves HII’s every edge—I’d suggest reading along with its words, which are all fully available on the Bandcamp page.5 The world we live in is bizarre, and Exterior Palnet does their very best to make sense of its senselessness through long dissonant resolves, whiplash pneumatic propulsions, and scraggly Voivodian bass drives. And yet, as “Heracleidae” stumbles to the total journey’s conclusion, a heroic melody casts a light of hope. Anecdotal, densely packed, and passing like the flash of a forgotten moment, Haragma II wears a brand of drama that drills shrill melody against swerving tempos in hopes to find a straight line. For some of us, the search is the answer. 3.5/5.0

Icebreg: Exterior Palnet are a tough nut to crack. Their music is dense and mechanical, rarely giving the listener an aural handhold. At first blush Haragma II presents as an unyielding barrage of dissonance layered on top of polyrhythm, sporting stream-of-consciousness style cavernous vocals. Amidst the scaling, wailing guitars and humming synths rages the beating heart of Exterior Palnet; a drummer6 who’s clearly read the mathcore brief. The undisputed star of this show, stuttering hi-hat rhythms and bursts of tom patterns reminiscent of Thomas Pridgen-era The Mars Volta live alongside monolithic blastbeats and wall-of-sound cymbal crashes. But exemplary performances don’t always translate into approachability, and Haragma II will rebuff all but the most determined musical excavators. Like staring into a Magic Eye puzzle, cycling chord structures and melodies appear in “Haragma” and “Exoskeletons,” but only after patient, focused listens. And while eleven-minute epic “Behind The Veil” revels in its noisy climax and grindy bookend riffs, it weights down the middle of an album that already suffers from potential fatigue issues. A break in the chaos appears in the twilight minutes of “Heracleidae,” and while my ears are thankful for the change in texture, the band’s performance doesn’t seem as tight as the rest of the album, making the section seem more mistake than intention. Exterior Palnet unflinchingly adhere to their style of blackened mathcore,7 and execute it well, but the lack of sonic relief here makes it a tough listen for this reviewer. 2.5/5.0

Alekihnes Gun: The “No Regerts” style named Exterior Palnet have descended from space. One look at the cover is an excellent setup for expectations; with its Voivod by way of Refrigerator Art décor, it’s clear something herky and jerky is on the horizon. Exterior Palnet manage to slide between an assembly of treble heavy riffs and melodies which inevitably walk back into more straightforward pummeling. Album centerpiece “Behind the Veil” is the real test for listener appreciation, clocking in at a whopping eleven minutes and managing to make each minute count with an assembly of moments ranging from mood setting sustained plucking scales to proper tremelos over blast beats. Haragma II doesn’t want for a glut of such moments, though the entirety of the album sounds more like a collection via stream of consciousness more than a series of cohesive songs. This is partially the fault of the mix, where the drums are produced so heavily as to drown out some of the clarity of the riffs on display, and the bass is reduced to an atonal rumble rather than function as support for the chord progressions. There’s a really fun atmosphere on display here and whiffs of excellence to be found across the album, if they can tighten the screws on the song writing a bit and get a mix to serve the overall presentation. 2.5/5

Thyme: Exterior Palnet‘s sophomore album, Haragma II, was slightly off-putting on the first listen, but it’s grown on me like some feral space rash. Riffs pinball in every direction, ranging from chaotically dissonant (“Haragma”) to pensively inquisitive (“Zaphnath-Paaneah”) as if tip-toeing through blackened tulips and sparking like schizophrenic flashbangs, recalling the experimental instrumentality of acts like Krallice, DsO, and early Dødheimsgard. It wasn’t until the twangy swing of “Behind the Veil” kicked in, however, that Exterior Palnet‘s claws really dug in. An eleven-minute odyssey and the album highlight, “Behind the Veil,” displays all the tricks in Exterior Palnet‘s bag. Bruno Čavara’s guitars crash and splash against each other in sprays of dissonant mist as he expertly ushers us across tremolodic waters and rifferous wastelands. With emotionally restless desperation, Tomislav Hrastovec’s tortured shouts and screams pair perfectly with Čavara’s intricate guitars and session bassist Vedran Rao Brlečić’s punchy low-end work. While no drummer was credited, programmed or not,8 the drums sound lush and vibrant, keeping the serpentine instrumentation in check, which is no small feat. My biggest gripe with Haragma II lies in the mix, which I find too loud. I know this is black metal, but there are so many interesting things happening here that I think the mix robs the listener, especially the casual ones, of experiencing the material’s full complexity. Ultimately, Exterior Palnet has released an album worthy of your time, and I hope you check it out. 3.0/5.0

Owlswald: My relationship with black metal is complicated. No longer drawn to the forthright tremolo and low-fi discords of old, I now find the genre’s more avant-garde forms satiating. This leads me to believe Croatia’s Exterior Palnet should be right up my alley, as they deliver a chaotic yet grounded sound that both captivates and overwhelms me in equal measure. Haragma II’s strength lies in its ability to generate a palpable sense of unease and restlessness through swarms of dissonant guitars, anguished cries and shifting tempos. Whether conjuring Deathspell Omega anxiety and agitation through its swirling and undulating soundscape (“Heracleidae”) or transmuting its frenetic energy via taut blasts and fills (“Exoskeletons,” “Zaphnath-Paaneah”), Haragama II is all about keeping the listener off-kilter. Despite its often exhausting intensity, Exterior Palnet offers brief but welcome respites, including the Doldrum-esque groovy syncopations within “Haragma” or the unexpected shoegaze-tinged textures ending “Behind the Veil.” Still, Haragma II’s songwriting would benefit from greater balance, as it currently prioritizes pandemonium through a loud, upfront mix. Exterior Palnet reach their peak when atmosphere, groove and prevailing intensity are in equilibrium. Haragma II proves there is still room for growth. Good.

#2025 #AForestOfStars #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #BlackMetal #CroatianMetal #Dödheimsgard #Doldrum #ExteriorPalnet #HaragmaII #IndependentRelease #Jan25 #Krallice #ProgressiveBlackMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #TheMarsVolta #Voivod

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Exterior Palnet – Haragma II

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.”

Another year, another chance for the Rodeö to lasso a lurking but worthy buck. We do dirty business here at Angry Metal Guy and Sons, LLC, sifting promo after promo to catch a whiff of glory. But we do it all for the love of music, a love of exploration, and a love of dealing in the currency of informed and accurate opinions. Just ask the wise and appreciative minds of the powerful minds at Rolling Stone—they agree 12 we’re putting in the time!

But enough about us. You want to hear about Exterior Palnet, right? Don’t worry, they know that the word planet exists. These Croatian oddballs prefer to use a related and wholly untraceable word instead. And in that essence, Haragma II, their sophomore release, follows a musical path of likely patchwork influence and cross-genre reverence. Trv to black metal roots, a frosty trem and low-clack blast persists. Yet in tempo-fluid runs, Exterior Palnet finds a progressive, thrashy, and unpredictable attitude that sets their attack galaxies away from their frosty Norwegian forebears. So buckle up and prepare for extreme forces as you wrestle with the words our Cow Folk have for you today. And, if I’ve timed this right, this is the named debut of ascended n00b Owlswald (formerly 87).3 He’s a hoot. – Dolphin Whisperer

Exterior Palnet // Haragma II [January 24th, 2025]

El Cruevo: Exterior Palnet caused a ruckus in the AMG.com break room. “early Dødheimsgard plus [redacted shit-head black metal]4 wrapped in a [redacted shit-head thrash metal] package!” cried one individual. “[The band] is firing on all cylinders!” another gushed. When I was done cleaning their excrement off the ceilings, I learned that neither was wrong; Haragma II offers an avant-garde take on black metal executed with pummeling leads that sometimes wander into thrashy territory. But neither description clarified the reality that Exterior Palnet evoke the sadly-inactive A Forest of Stars; bolstered with additional pace and power, but weakened by a lack of dynamism and curiosity. Although the music has the sinister, inescapable feel of a spider’s web, it’s simply not very memorable or enjoyable. There are solid riffs, sure. And a warped, beastly attitude. Ordinarily these might fuse into something compelling. But I find myself drifting in and out while listening to Haragma II. For a record playing with such dissonance, heaviness and speed, the fact that it barely holds my attention rings the death knell. Now that my time with it is over, I have no interest whatsoever in returning. 2.0/5.0

Dolphin Whipserer: Yes, it will take more than one listen of Haragma II to settle into its particular brand of dreamy chaos. In a reckless manner, Exterior Palnet scatters crumbs of its mission about with twangy, swaggering groove that belies an incessant rhythmic trickery. Playing its hand first with the blasting and beguiling “Haragma” and “Zaphnath-Paaneah” feels like a sleight in the wake of the grandiose and wailing “Behind the Veil.” But understanding how it’s sudden hi-hat shuffle and endless bending mania can feel both natural and striking is key to unlocking the HII universe. Much like the early blackened scrawl of an early DHG—also informed by the progressive, narrative drama of the classic A Umbra Omega—a tangible mysticism lurks around every barked and battered word that escapes through Tomislav Hrastovec’s mic. Whether it’s the Hebrew prayer recital that closes “Beyond the Veil,” the surrealistic depiction of seasonless erosion of “Exoskeleton,” the elemental chant that guides the conclusion of “Haragma,” a shroud of existential disaster carves HII’s every edge—I’d suggest reading along with its words, which are all fully available on the Bandcamp page.5 The world we live in is bizarre, and Exterior Palnet does their very best to make sense of its senselessness through long dissonant resolves, whiplash pneumatic propulsions, and scraggly Voivodian bass drives. And yet, as “Heracleidae” stumbles to the total journey’s conclusion, a heroic melody casts a light of hope. Anecdotal, densely packed, and passing like the flash of a forgotten moment, Haragma II wears a brand of drama that drills shrill melody against swerving tempos in hopes to find a straight line. For some of us, the search is the answer. 3.5/5.0

Icebreg: Exterior Palnet are a tough nut to crack. Their music is dense and mechanical, rarely giving the listener an aural handhold. At first blush Haragma II presents as an unyielding barrage of dissonance layered on top of polyrhythm, sporting stream-of-consciousness style cavernous vocals. Amidst the scaling, wailing guitars and humming synths rages the beating heart of Exterior Palnet; a drummer6 who’s clearly read the mathcore brief. The undisputed star of this show, stuttering hi-hat rhythms and bursts of tom patterns reminiscent of Thomas Pridgen-era The Mars Volta live alongside monolithic blastbeats and wall-of-sound cymbal crashes. But exemplary performances don’t always translate into approachability, and Haragma II will rebuff all but the most determined musical excavators. Like staring into a Magic Eye puzzle, cycling chord structures and melodies appear in “Haragma” and “Exoskeletons,” but only after patient, focused listens. And while eleven-minute epic “Behind The Veil” revels in its noisy climax and grindy bookend riffs, it weights down the middle of an album that already suffers from potential fatigue issues. A break in the chaos appears in the twilight minutes of “Heracleidae,” and while my ears are thankful for the change in texture, the band’s performance doesn’t seem as tight as the rest of the album, making the section seem more mistake than intention. Exterior Palnet unflinchingly adhere to their style of blackened mathcore,7 and execute it well, but the lack of sonic relief here makes it a tough listen for this reviewer. 2.5/5.0

Alekihnes Gun: The “No Regerts” style named Exterior Palnet have descended from space. One look at the cover is an excellent setup for expectations; with its Voivod by way of Refrigerator Art décor, it’s clear something herky and jerky is on the horizon. Exterior Palnet manage to slide between an assembly of treble heavy riffs and melodies which inevitably walk back into more straightforward pummeling. Album centerpiece “Behind the Veil” is the real test for listener appreciation, clocking in at a whopping eleven minutes and managing to make each minute count with an assembly of moments ranging from mood setting sustained plucking scales to proper tremelos over blast beats. Haragma II doesn’t want for a glut of such moments, though the entirety of the album sounds more like a collection via stream of consciousness more than a series of cohesive songs. This is partially the fault of the mix, where the drums are produced so heavily as to drown out some of the clarity of the riffs on display, and the bass is reduced to an atonal rumble rather than function as support for the chord progressions. There’s a really fun atmosphere on display here and whiffs of excellence to be found across the album, if they can tighten the screws on the song writing a bit and get a mix to serve the overall presentation. 2.5/5

Thyme: Exterior Palnet‘s sophomore album, Haragma II, was slightly off-putting on the first listen, but it’s grown on me like some feral space rash. Riffs pinball in every direction, ranging from chaotically dissonant (“Haragma”) to pensively inquisitive (“Zaphnath-Paaneah”) as if tip-toeing through blackened tulips and sparking like schizophrenic flashbangs, recalling the experimental instrumentality of acts like Krallice, DsO, and early Dødheimsgard. It wasn’t until the twangy swing of “Behind the Veil” kicked in, however, that Exterior Palnet‘s claws really dug in. An eleven-minute odyssey and the album highlight, “Behind the Veil,” displays all the tricks in Exterior Palnet‘s bag. Bruno Čavara’s guitars crash and splash against each other in sprays of dissonant mist as he expertly ushers us across tremolodic waters and rifferous wastelands. With emotionally restless desperation, Tomislav Hrastovec’s tortured shouts and screams pair perfectly with Čavara’s intricate guitars and session bassist Vedran Rao Brlečić’s punchy low-end work. While no drummer was credited, programmed or not,8 the drums sound lush and vibrant, keeping the serpentine instrumentation in check, which is no small feat. My biggest gripe with Haragma II lies in the mix, which I find too loud. I know this is black metal, but there are so many interesting things happening here that I think the mix robs the listener, especially the casual ones, of experiencing the material’s full complexity. Ultimately, Exterior Palnet has released an album worthy of your time, and I hope you check it out. 3.0/5.0

Owlswald: My relationship with black metal is complicated. No longer drawn to the forthright tremolo and low-fi discords of old, I now find the genre’s more avant-garde forms satiating. This leads me to believe Croatia’s Exterior Palnet should be right up my alley, as they deliver a chaotic yet grounded sound that both captivates and overwhelms me in equal measure. Haragma II’s strength lies in its ability to generate a palpable sense of unease and restlessness through swarms of dissonant guitars, anguished cries and shifting tempos. Whether conjuring Deathspell Omega anxiety and agitation through its swirling and undulating soundscape (“Heracleidae”) or transmuting its frenetic energy via taut blasts and fills (“Exoskeletons,” “Zaphnath-Paaneah”), Haragama II is all about keeping the listener off-kilter. Despite its often exhausting intensity, Exterior Palnet offers brief but welcome respites, including the Doldrum-esque groovy syncopations within “Haragma” or the unexpected shoegaze-tinged textures ending “Behind the Veil.” Still, Haragma II’s songwriting would benefit from greater balance, as it currently prioritizes pandemonium through a loud, upfront mix. Exterior Palnet reach their peak when atmosphere, groove and prevailing intensity are in equilibrium. Haragma II proves there is still room for growth. Good.

#2025 #AForestOfStars #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #BlackMetal #CroatianMetal #Dödheimsgard #Doldrum #ExteriorPalnet #HaragmaII #IndependentRelease #Jan25 #Krallice #ProgressiveBlackMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #TheMarsVolta #Voivod

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Nephylim – Circuition

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.”

Oranjeboom, a low-frills lager, holds little love in its home country of the Netherlands, so much so that its production there was discontinued until only recently.1 Why does that matter? It really doesn’t, but it is a fun fact about the Netherlands and a beer synonymous with their lineage. Nephylim hails from the Netherlands too, and, with any luck, their brand of big scope, big sad melodeath will stake a claim that lands with bolder flavor. Over the past ten years, this five-some has cut an EP and a full-length through their own determination. And now, with this sophomore follow-up Circuition, Nephylim may just be hitting their stride. Or, at least, our Rodeö crew seems to think so. Crack open a cold one and sip on riffy sadness. – Dolphin Whisperer

Nephylim // Circuition [March 7th, 2025]

Steel Druhm: Sometimes when you press play on a Rodeö candidate, you wonder why they aren’t signed because they sound so polished and professional. Such is the case with Dutch melodeathsters, Nephylim, and their sophomore opus, Circulation. Taking cues from Ominium Gatherum, Be’Lakor, Enshine, and the more progressive works of Edge of Sanity, Nephylim voyage across various styles of melodeath but always keep things anchored firmly in the Wheelhouse of Steel. After a beautifully regal instrumental opener, Circulation heats up on “Travail Pt. 2 – Animus,” which is like a glowing distillation of Wolfheart and Be’lakor with a seriously epic vibe coursing through it. The guitars riff, trill, and shimmer with a Tuomos Saukkonen-esque flair as grand orchestrations amplify the sound to herculean proportions. It’s the beast of death metal with the beauty of melancholic music, and this style has a proven appeal. I love the majesty of “Grand Denial” and the hints of Dark Tranquillity woven throughout, and the title track bears traces of Dan Swanö’s Moontower and Tomi Joutsen-era Amorphis as it seamlessly melds heavy and sadboi moments. Unfortunately, not every cut hits with the same soul-searing slash of wintery pathos. “Amaranth” is a bit too generic and pedestrian, and though “Withered” does some things very well, the writing is a touch less compelling. Elsewhere, closer “Inner Paradigm” feels like something from the later eras of In Flames, not bad, but less impactful. At thirty-eight minutes, there are bits of bloat scattered around, but nothing that’s fatal if swallowed. There’s a lot to like about Circulation, and I’m left still wondering why Nephylim aren’t signed. With this much potential, they should be! 3.0/5.0

GardensTale: From two live shows, I already knew Nephylim were good. I could not have anticipated what a masterclass Circuition would turn out to be, though. Combining the maudlin symphonic details of Fires in the Distance with the melancholy hope and impeccable composition of Countless Skies is no easy feat, but the songwriting has taken a giant leap forward. Circuition is absolutely packed with beautiful melodies, addictive hooks and enticing cascades. The flow is downright brilliant, such that even after a dozen spins, I find myself glued to the speaker in anticipation of the next stanza, the next riff, the next solo. These are linked together with transitions that are set up and knocked down perfectly, helping every track rush past in spiraling eddies like white water rapids after heavy rain. “Circuition” yanks the heart-strings the hardest; follow-up “Withered” has a more basic structure, but the amazing harmonies and powerful solo make it a standout anyway. Cherry on the cake is the top-shelf production, with meticulous mastering and a balanced mix. The sparse clean vocals aren’t great, just okay, and a few tracks end a little more abruptly than I’d like, but these are small bumps on an engaging journey that begs to be spun again and again. 4.0/5.0

Kenstrosity: Dutch sadboi melodeath quintet Nephylim graced my Bandcamp feed a few months back. I was intrigued, but did not bite. At least, not until our Kermity GardensTale recced it for Rodeö duty, at which point I dove straight in. Embodying a wondrous merging between Countless Skies, Fires in the Distance, and a light touch of The Drowning, sophomore effort Circuition garnered instant adoration from this sponge. A rarer feat, Nephylim’s latest only deepened its hold on my heart, as the opening “Travail” suite enamored with epic soars of melody, crushing riffs that ground the piece in deathly gravity, and emotive roars that shake the roots underfoot. “Amaranth” doubles down on that palpable momentum, bringing forward a fun factor that belies Circuition’s introspective character. Beautiful synths and keys dot the landscape just above that metallic verve and swinging rhythm, evoking something inherently mystical while still operating within the bounds of the human spirit (“Circuition”). As the potent pull of songs like “Grand Denial,” “Withered,” and immense closer “Inner Paradigm” continually challenge my perception of what constitutes a highlight, I find myself universally immersed, committed, and compelled by Circuition. Experiencing this, as much as I pine for new material from those great acts that Nephylim remind me of, I know in my soul that Circuition is one of 2025’s foremost contenders. Great!

Maddog: When Fenrir finally closes the curtain on 2025, Nephylim’s Circuition will be one of my few fond memories of this disastrous year. This hidden melodeath gem triumphs by embracing simplicity without stagnation. No one would argue that Nephylim’s guitarists stretch the limits of human dexterity. And yet, as Circuition buried my ears in riffs upon riffs, it dragged me into its orbit. Blending the classic stylings of Dark Tranquillity with the modern touch of Æther Realm, Nephylim won me over through its irresistible energy. While I initially fell in love with merely a couple of its songs, Circuition’s consistency unveiled itself over time. Indeed, while the closer “Inner Paradigm” was initially my least favorite song, its Shadows of the Dying Sun riffs and its somber ending have made it a highlight. Despite its consistency, Circuition’s mood changes keep it fresh. The fantastic midsection of the album progresses from gargantuan riffs (“Grand Denial”) to tear-jerking Enshine melodies (“Circuition”) to explosive choruses (“Withered”). Circuition is textbook, but it’s both a thrilling spectacle and an emotive powerhouse. Every piece is essential, and every piece is distinctive. 4.0/5.0

Killjoy: The term “Nephilim” in the Hebrew Bible is often translated as “giants” in English. Accordingly, melodic death metal band Nephylim does everything big. Riffs? Big. Rumbling death roars? Big. Thunderous rhythm section? Big. Circuition feels like a highlight reel of the serious and somber side of melodeath, with each individual song bringing something unique to the table. “Travail Pt. II – Animus” embellishes the somber intensity of Insomnium with delicate piano keys reminiscent of Fires in the Distance and heaps of symphonic bombast. The suspenseful drum beats which introduce “Amaranth” organically build excitement by layering on bass and then guitar lines before releasing the pent-up energy with a furious snarl and fiery riffs. But there’s also a tender side to Nephylim; “Circuition” adopts a melancholic and folk-tinted mood laced with deep, beautiful croons, all of which I associate with Vorna. Circuition is considerably more ambitious than Nephylim’s debut, but they never let their ambitions spiral out of control. If anything, I’d like to see them continue to develop their symphonic side that they teased in the first two tracks. Although I find the last third of the record ever so slightly less engaging, I can endorse all thirty-eight minutes of Circuition as worthy of your time. 3.5/5.0

#2025 #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #ÆtherRealm #BeLakor #Circuition #CountlessSkies #DarkTranquillity #DutchMetal #EdgeOfSanity #Enshine #FiresInTheDistance #InFlames #IndependentRelease #Insomnium #Mar25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Moontower #Nephylim #OmniumGatherum #ProgressiveDeathMetal #SelfRelease #TheDrowning #Wolfheart

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Nephylim – Circuition

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.”

Oranjeboom, a low-frills lager, holds little love in its home country of the Netherlands, so much so that its production there was discontinued until only recently.1 Why does that matter? It really doesn’t, but it is a fun fact about the Netherlands and a beer synonymous with their lineage. Nephylim hails from the Netherlands too, and, with any luck, their brand of big scope, big sad melodeath will stake a claim that lands with bolder flavor. Over the past ten years, this five-some has cut an EP and a full-length through their own determination. And now, with this sophomore follow-up Circuition, Nephylim may just be hitting their stride. Or, at least, our Rodeö crew seems to think so. Crack open a cold one and sip on riffy sadness. – Dolphin Whisperer

Nephylim // Circuition [March 7th, 2025]

Steel Druhm: Sometimes when you press play on a Rodeö candidate, you wonder why they aren’t signed because they sound so polished and professional. Such is the case with Dutch melodeathsters, Nephylim, and their sophomore opus, Circulation. Taking cues from Ominium Gatherum, Be’Lakor, Enshine, and the more progressive works of Edge of Sanity, Nephylim voyage across various styles of melodeath but always keep things anchored firmly in the Wheelhouse of Steel. After a beautifully regal instrumental opener, Circulation heats up on “Travail Pt. 2 – Animus,” which is like a glowing distillation of Wolfheart and Be’lakor with a seriously epic vibe coursing through it. The guitars riff, trill, and shimmer with a Tuomos Saukkonen-esque flair as grand orchestrations amplify the sound to herculean proportions. It’s the beast of death metal with the beauty of melancholic music, and this style has a proven appeal. I love the majesty of “Grand Denial” and the hints of Dark Tranquillity woven throughout, and the title track bears traces of Dan Swanö’s Moontower and Tomi Joutsen-era Amorphis as it seamlessly melds heavy and sadboi moments. Unfortunately, not every cut hits with the same soul-searing slash of wintery pathos. “Amaranth” is a bit too generic and pedestrian, and though “Withered” does some things very well, the writing is a touch less compelling. Elsewhere, closer “Inner Paradigm” feels like something from the later eras of In Flames, not bad, but less impactful. At thirty-eight minutes, there are bits of bloat scattered around, but nothing that’s fatal if swallowed. There’s a lot to like about Circulation, and I’m left still wondering why Nephylim aren’t signed. With this much potential, they should be! 3.0/5.0

GardensTale: From two live shows, I already knew Nephylim were good. I could not have anticipated what a masterclass Circuition would turn out to be, though. Combining the maudlin symphonic details of Fires in the Distance with the melancholy hope and impeccable composition of Countless Skies is no easy feat, but the songwriting has taken a giant leap forward. Circuition is absolutely packed with beautiful melodies, addictive hooks and enticing cascades. The flow is downright brilliant, such that even after a dozen spins, I find myself glued to the speaker in anticipation of the next stanza, the next riff, the next solo. These are linked together with transitions that are set up and knocked down perfectly, helping every track rush past in spiraling eddies like white water rapids after heavy rain. “Circuition” yanks the heart-strings the hardest; follow-up “Withered” has a more basic structure, but the amazing harmonies and powerful solo make it a standout anyway. Cherry on the cake is the top-shelf production, with meticulous mastering and a balanced mix. The sparse clean vocals aren’t great, just okay, and a few tracks end a little more abruptly than I’d like, but these are small bumps on an engaging journey that begs to be spun again and again. 4.0/5.0

Kenstrosity: Dutch sadboi melodeath quintet Nephylim graced my Bandcamp feed a few months back. I was intrigued, but did not bite. At least, not until our Kermity GardensTale recced it for Rodeö duty, at which point I dove straight in. Embodying a wondrous merging between Countless Skies, Fires in the Distance, and a light touch of The Drowning, sophomore effort Circuition garnered instant adoration from this sponge. A rarer feat, Nephylim’s latest only deepened its hold on my heart, as the opening “Travail” suite enamored with epic soars of melody, crushing riffs that ground the piece in deathly gravity, and emotive roars that shake the roots underfoot. “Amaranth” doubles down on that palpable momentum, bringing forward a fun factor that belies Circuition’s introspective character. Beautiful synths and keys dot the landscape just above that metallic verve and swinging rhythm, evoking something inherently mystical while still operating within the bounds of the human spirit (“Circuition”). As the potent pull of songs like “Grand Denial,” “Withered,” and immense closer “Inner Paradigm” continually challenge my perception of what constitutes a highlight, I find myself universally immersed, committed, and compelled by Circuition. Experiencing this, as much as I pine for new material from those great acts that Nephylim remind me of, I know in my soul that Circuition is one of 2025’s foremost contenders. Great!

Maddog: When Fenrir finally closes the curtain on 2025, Nephylim’s Circuition will be one of my few fond memories of this disastrous year. This hidden melodeath gem triumphs by embracing simplicity without stagnation. No one would argue that Nephylim’s guitarists stretch the limits of human dexterity. And yet, as Circuition buried my ears in riffs upon riffs, it dragged me into its orbit. Blending the classic stylings of Dark Tranquillity with the modern touch of Æther Realm, Nephylim won me over through its irresistible energy. While I initially fell in love with merely a couple of its songs, Circuition’s consistency unveiled itself over time. Indeed, while the closer “Inner Paradigm” was initially my least favorite song, its Shadows of the Dying Sun riffs and its somber ending have made it a highlight. Despite its consistency, Circuition’s mood changes keep it fresh. The fantastic midsection of the album progresses from gargantuan riffs (“Grand Denial”) to tear-jerking Enshine melodies (“Circuition”) to explosive choruses (“Withered”). Circuition is textbook, but it’s both a thrilling spectacle and an emotive powerhouse. Every piece is essential, and every piece is distinctive. 4.0/5.0

Killjoy: The term “Nephilim” in the Hebrew Bible is often translated as “giants” in English. Accordingly, melodic death metal band Nephylim does everything big. Riffs? Big. Rumbling death roars? Big. Thunderous rhythm section? Big. Circuition feels like a highlight reel of the serious and somber side of melodeath, with each individual song bringing something unique to the table. “Travail Pt. II – Animus” embellishes the somber intensity of Insomnium with delicate piano keys reminiscent of Fires in the Distance and heaps of symphonic bombast. The suspenseful drum beats which introduce “Amaranth” organically build excitement by layering on bass and then guitar lines before releasing the pent-up energy with a furious snarl and fiery riffs. But there’s also a tender side to Nephylim; “Circuition” adopts a melancholic and folk-tinted mood laced with deep, beautiful croons, all of which I associate with Vorna. Circuition is considerably more ambitious than Nephylim’s debut, but they never let their ambitions spiral out of control. If anything, I’d like to see them continue to develop their symphonic side that they teased in the first two tracks. Although I find the last third of the record ever so slightly less engaging, I can endorse all thirty-eight minutes of Circuition as worthy of your time. 3.5/5.0

#2025 #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #ÆtherRealm #BeLakor #Circuition #CountlessSkies #DarkTranquillity #DutchMetal #EdgeOfSanity #Enshine #FiresInTheDistance #InFlames #IndependentRelease #Insomnium #Mar25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Moontower #Nephylim #OmniumGatherum #ProgressiveDeathMetal #SelfRelease #TheDrowning #Wolfheart

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Nephylim – Circuition

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.”

Oranjeboom, a low-frills lager, holds little love in its home country of the Netherlands, so much so that its production there was discontinued until only recently.1 Why does that matter? It really doesn’t, but it is a fun fact about the Netherlands and a beer synonymous with their lineage. Nephylim hails from the Netherlands too, and, with any luck, their brand of big scope, big sad melodeath will stake a claim that lands with bolder flavor. Over the past ten years, this five-some has cut an EP and a full-length through their own determination. And now, with this sophomore follow-up Circuition, Nephylim may just be hitting their stride. Or, at least, our Rodeö crew seems to think so. Crack open a cold one and sip on riffy sadness. – Dolphin Whisperer

Nephylim // Circuition [March 7th, 2025]

Steel Druhm: Sometimes when you press play on a Rodeö candidate, you wonder why they aren’t signed because they sound so polished and professional. Such is the case with Dutch melodeathsters, Nephylim, and their sophomore opus, Circulation. Taking cues from Ominium Gatherum, Be’Lakor, Enshine, and the more progressive works of Edge of Sanity, Nephylim voyage across various styles of melodeath but always keep things anchored firmly in the Wheelhouse of Steel. After a beautifully regal instrumental opener, Circulation heats up on “Travail Pt. 2 – Animus,” which is like a glowing distillation of Wolfheart and Be’lakor with a seriously epic vibe coursing through it. The guitars riff, trill, and shimmer with a Tuomos Saukkonen-esque flair as grand orchestrations amplify the sound to herculean proportions. It’s the beast of death metal with the beauty of melancholic music, and this style has a proven appeal. I love the majesty of “Grand Denial” and the hints of Dark Tranquillity woven throughout, and the title track bears traces of Dan Swanö’s Moontower and Tomi Joutsen-era Amorphis as it seamlessly melds heavy and sadboi moments. Unfortunately, not every cut hits with the same soul-searing slash of wintery pathos. “Amaranth” is a bit too generic and pedestrian, and though “Withered” does some things very well, the writing is a touch less compelling. Elsewhere, closer “Inner Paradigm” feels like something from the later eras of In Flames, not bad, but less impactful. At thirty-eight minutes, there are bits of bloat scattered around, but nothing that’s fatal if swallowed. There’s a lot to like about Circulation, and I’m left still wondering why Nephylim aren’t signed. With this much potential, they should be! 3.0/5.0

GardensTale: From two live shows, I already knew Nephylim were good. I could not have anticipated what a masterclass Circuition would turn out to be, though. Combining the maudlin symphonic details of Fires in the Distance with the melancholy hope and impeccable composition of Countless Skies is no easy feat, but the songwriting has taken a giant leap forward. Circuition is absolutely packed with beautiful melodies, addictive hooks and enticing cascades. The flow is downright brilliant, such that even after a dozen spins, I find myself glued to the speaker in anticipation of the next stanza, the next riff, the next solo. These are linked together with transitions that are set up and knocked down perfectly, helping every track rush past in spiraling eddies like white water rapids after heavy rain. “Circuition” yanks the heart-strings the hardest; follow-up “Withered” has a more basic structure, but the amazing harmonies and powerful solo make it a standout anyway. Cherry on the cake is the top-shelf production, with meticulous mastering and a balanced mix. The sparse clean vocals aren’t great, just okay, and a few tracks end a little more abruptly than I’d like, but these are small bumps on an engaging journey that begs to be spun again and again. 4.0/5.0

Kenstrosity: Dutch sadboi melodeath quintet Nephylim graced my Bandcamp feed a few months back. I was intrigued, but did not bite. At least, not until our Kermity GardensTale recced it for Rodeö duty, at which point I dove straight in. Embodying a wondrous merging between Countless Skies, Fires in the Distance, and a light touch of The Drowning, sophomore effort Circuition garnered instant adoration from this sponge. A rarer feat, Nephylim’s latest only deepened its hold on my heart, as the opening “Travail” suite enamored with epic soars of melody, crushing riffs that ground the piece in deathly gravity, and emotive roars that shake the roots underfoot. “Amaranth” doubles down on that palpable momentum, bringing forward a fun factor that belies Circuition’s introspective character. Beautiful synths and keys dot the landscape just above that metallic verve and swinging rhythm, evoking something inherently mystical while still operating within the bounds of the human spirit (“Circuition”). As the potent pull of songs like “Grand Denial,” “Withered,” and immense closer “Inner Paradigm” continually challenge my perception of what constitutes a highlight, I find myself universally immersed, committed, and compelled by Circuition. Experiencing this, as much as I pine for new material from those great acts that Nephylim remind me of, I know in my soul that Circuition is one of 2025’s foremost contenders. Great!

Maddog: When Fenrir finally closes the curtain on 2025, Nephylim’s Circuition will be one of my few fond memories of this disastrous year. This hidden melodeath gem triumphs by embracing simplicity without stagnation. No one would argue that Nephylim’s guitarists stretch the limits of human dexterity. And yet, as Circuition buried my ears in riffs upon riffs, it dragged me into its orbit. Blending the classic stylings of Dark Tranquillity with the modern touch of Æther Realm, Nephylim won me over through its irresistible energy. While I initially fell in love with merely a couple of its songs, Circuition’s consistency unveiled itself over time. Indeed, while the closer “Inner Paradigm” was initially my least favorite song, its Shadows of the Dying Sun riffs and its somber ending have made it a highlight. Despite its consistency, Circuition’s mood changes keep it fresh. The fantastic midsection of the album progresses from gargantuan riffs (“Grand Denial”) to tear-jerking Enshine melodies (“Circuition”) to explosive choruses (“Withered”). Circuition is textbook, but it’s both a thrilling spectacle and an emotive powerhouse. Every piece is essential, and every piece is distinctive. 4.0/5.0

Killjoy: The term “Nephilim” in the Hebrew Bible is often translated as “giants” in English. Accordingly, melodic death metal band Nephylim does everything big. Riffs? Big. Rumbling death roars? Big. Thunderous rhythm section? Big. Circuition feels like a highlight reel of the serious and somber side of melodeath, with each individual song bringing something unique to the table. “Travail Pt. II – Animus” embellishes the somber intensity of Insomnium with delicate piano keys reminiscent of Fires in the Distance and heaps of symphonic bombast. The suspenseful drum beats which introduce “Amaranth” organically build excitement by layering on bass and then guitar lines before releasing the pent-up energy with a furious snarl and fiery riffs. But there’s also a tender side to Nephylim; “Circuition” adopts a melancholic and folk-tinted mood laced with deep, beautiful croons, all of which I associate with Vorna. Circuition is considerably more ambitious than Nephylim’s debut, but they never let their ambitions spiral out of control. If anything, I’d like to see them continue to develop their symphonic side that they teased in the first two tracks. Although I find the last third of the record ever so slightly less engaging, I can endorse all thirty-eight minutes of Circuition as worthy of your time. 3.5/5.0

#2025 #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #ÆtherRealm #BeLakor #Circuition #CountlessSkies #DarkTranquillity #DutchMetal #EdgeOfSanity #Enshine #FiresInTheDistance #InFlames #IndependentRelease #Insomnium #Mar25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Moontower #Nephylim #OmniumGatherum #ProgressiveDeathMetal #SelfRelease #TheDrowning #Wolfheart

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Nephylim – Circuition

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.”

Oranjeboom, a low-frills lager, holds little love in its home country of the Netherlands, so much so that its production there was discontinued until only recently.1 Why does that matter? It really doesn’t, but it is a fun fact about the Netherlands and a beer synonymous with their lineage. Nephylim hails from the Netherlands too, and, with any luck, their brand of big scope, big sad melodeath will stake a claim that lands with bolder flavor. Over the past ten years, this five-some has cut an EP and a full-length through their own determination. And now, with this sophomore follow-up Circuition, Nephylim may just be hitting their stride. Or, at least, our Rodeö crew seems to think so. Crack open a cold one and sip on riffy sadness. – Dolphin Whisperer

Nephylim // Circuition [March 7th, 2025]

Steel Druhm: Sometimes when you press play on a Rodeö candidate, you wonder why they aren’t signed because they sound so polished and professional. Such is the case with Dutch melodeathsters, Nephylim, and their sophomore opus, Circulation. Taking cues from Ominium Gatherum, Be’Lakor, Enshine, and the more progressive works of Edge of Sanity, Nephylim voyage across various styles of melodeath but always keep things anchored firmly in the Wheelhouse of Steel. After a beautifully regal instrumental opener, Circulation heats up on “Travail Pt. 2 – Animus,” which is like a glowing distillation of Wolfheart and Be’lakor with a seriously epic vibe coursing through it. The guitars riff, trill, and shimmer with a Tuomos Saukkonen-esque flair as grand orchestrations amplify the sound to herculean proportions. It’s the beast of death metal with the beauty of melancholic music, and this style has a proven appeal. I love the majesty of “Grand Denial” and the hints of Dark Tranquillity woven throughout, and the title track bears traces of Dan Swanö’s Moontower and Tomi Joutsen-era Amorphis as it seamlessly melds heavy and sadboi moments. Unfortunately, not every cut hits with the same soul-searing slash of wintery pathos. “Amaranth” is a bit too generic and pedestrian, and though “Withered” does some things very well, the writing is a touch less compelling. Elsewhere, closer “Inner Paradigm” feels like something from the later eras of In Flames, not bad, but less impactful. At thirty-eight minutes, there are bits of bloat scattered around, but nothing that’s fatal if swallowed. There’s a lot to like about Circulation, and I’m left still wondering why Nephylim aren’t signed. With this much potential, they should be! 3.0/5.0

GardensTale: From two live shows, I already knew Nephylim were good. I could not have anticipated what a masterclass Circuition would turn out to be, though. Combining the maudlin symphonic details of Fires in the Distance with the melancholy hope and impeccable composition of Countless Skies is no easy feat, but the songwriting has taken a giant leap forward. Circuition is absolutely packed with beautiful melodies, addictive hooks and enticing cascades. The flow is downright brilliant, such that even after a dozen spins, I find myself glued to the speaker in anticipation of the next stanza, the next riff, the next solo. These are linked together with transitions that are set up and knocked down perfectly, helping every track rush past in spiraling eddies like white water rapids after heavy rain. “Circuition” yanks the heart-strings the hardest; follow-up “Withered” has a more basic structure, but the amazing harmonies and powerful solo make it a standout anyway. Cherry on the cake is the top-shelf production, with meticulous mastering and a balanced mix. The sparse clean vocals aren’t great, just okay, and a few tracks end a little more abruptly than I’d like, but these are small bumps on an engaging journey that begs to be spun again and again. 4.0/5.0

Kenstrosity: Dutch sadboi melodeath quintet Nephylim graced my Bandcamp feed a few months back. I was intrigued, but did not bite. At least, not until our Kermity GardensTale recced it for Rodeö duty, at which point I dove straight in. Embodying a wondrous merging between Countless Skies, Fires in the Distance, and a light touch of The Drowning, sophomore effort Circuition garnered instant adoration from this sponge. A rarer feat, Nephylim’s latest only deepened its hold on my heart, as the opening “Travail” suite enamored with epic soars of melody, crushing riffs that ground the piece in deathly gravity, and emotive roars that shake the roots underfoot. “Amaranth” doubles down on that palpable momentum, bringing forward a fun factor that belies Circuition’s introspective character. Beautiful synths and keys dot the landscape just above that metallic verve and swinging rhythm, evoking something inherently mystical while still operating within the bounds of the human spirit (“Circuition”). As the potent pull of songs like “Grand Denial,” “Withered,” and immense closer “Inner Paradigm” continually challenge my perception of what constitutes a highlight, I find myself universally immersed, committed, and compelled by Circuition. Experiencing this, as much as I pine for new material from those great acts that Nephylim remind me of, I know in my soul that Circuition is one of 2025’s foremost contenders. Great!

Maddog: When Fenrir finally closes the curtain on 2025, Nephylim’s Circuition will be one of my few fond memories of this disastrous year. This hidden melodeath gem triumphs by embracing simplicity without stagnation. No one would argue that Nephylim’s guitarists stretch the limits of human dexterity. And yet, as Circuition buried my ears in riffs upon riffs, it dragged me into its orbit. Blending the classic stylings of Dark Tranquillity with the modern touch of Æther Realm, Nephylim won me over through its irresistible energy. While I initially fell in love with merely a couple of its songs, Circuition’s consistency unveiled itself over time. Indeed, while the closer “Inner Paradigm” was initially my least favorite song, its Shadows of the Dying Sun riffs and its somber ending have made it a highlight. Despite its consistency, Circuition’s mood changes keep it fresh. The fantastic midsection of the album progresses from gargantuan riffs (“Grand Denial”) to tear-jerking Enshine melodies (“Circuition”) to explosive choruses (“Withered”). Circuition is textbook, but it’s both a thrilling spectacle and an emotive powerhouse. Every piece is essential, and every piece is distinctive. 4.0/5.0

Killjoy: The term “Nephilim” in the Hebrew Bible is often translated as “giants” in English. Accordingly, melodic death metal band Nephylim does everything big. Riffs? Big. Rumbling death roars? Big. Thunderous rhythm section? Big. Circuition feels like a highlight reel of the serious and somber side of melodeath, with each individual song bringing something unique to the table. “Travail Pt. II – Animus” embellishes the somber intensity of Insomnium with delicate piano keys reminiscent of Fires in the Distance and heaps of symphonic bombast. The suspenseful drum beats which introduce “Amaranth” organically build excitement by layering on bass and then guitar lines before releasing the pent-up energy with a furious snarl and fiery riffs. But there’s also a tender side to Nephylim; “Circuition” adopts a melancholic and folk-tinted mood laced with deep, beautiful croons, all of which I associate with Vorna. Circuition is considerably more ambitious than Nephylim’s debut, but they never let their ambitions spiral out of control. If anything, I’d like to see them continue to develop their symphonic side that they teased in the first two tracks. Although I find the last third of the record ever so slightly less engaging, I can endorse all thirty-eight minutes of Circuition as worthy of your time. 3.5/5.0

#2025 #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #ÆtherRealm #BeLakor #Circuition #CountlessSkies #DarkTranquillity #DutchMetal #EdgeOfSanity #Enshine #FiresInTheDistance #InFlames #IndependentRelease #Insomnium #Mar25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Moontower #Nephylim #OmniumGatherum #ProgressiveDeathMetal #SelfRelease #TheDrowning #Wolfheart

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Zakula – White Forest Reign Lullabies

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.”

It takes a bit of effort to assemble the fickle tastes of the Rodeö gang, as distinguished and willing as they may be. Now, I won’t say that the lure of a unsigned gem requires trickery, but with a band like Zakula, explaining their style straight doesn’t stand as an option. These Athenian speed demons slap the simplest of tags across their Bandcamp page: death metal, black metal, thrash metal. And frustratingly, that’s the truth too! But what does it mean? Chunky riffs that dance about flailing tempos with a dramatic vocal character? Kind of. How about sneaky lead melodies that tumble against bright synth crashes into whiplash thrash and manic shrieks? White Forest Reign Lullabies doesn’t make explanation easy, but Zakula does play metal with lots of twists. This is the kind of challenge for which the Rodeö crew—now with the recently demoted n00b Tyme in the mix—lives! And, also proof that they too are capable of enjoyment. – Dolphin Whisperer

Zakula // White Forest Reign Lullabies [October 25th, 2024]

GardensTale: Zakula was initially sold to me as weirdo black metal. Foul! This is clearly weirdo tech thrash, a niche I seldom dabble in. As such, I find myself more unmoored than usual, with my frame of reference limited to Stam1na and my meager exposure to Vektor, whose frontman I disliked for his vocals and dislike more for his abuse. But while a few comparisons can be drawn from Zakula to either, this is a different beast altogether. White Forest Reign Lullabies is fast as hell, frequently discordant, and seems designed to keep you off-balance. The guitars throw me off the least, somehow, though their rapid tremolos and triplets and trips up and down the scales require close attention. More unsettling are the hoarse histrionics that make up the vocals, which sound ragged and desperate and are played backward on at least one occasion, and the erratic drums that go from maddeningly consistent to plain mad. But it’s the electronics that send me over the edge. The dissonant slides and squeaks and blips have a panic-inducing effect that reminds me of VAK at about nine times the speed. Somehow, though, the Greeks pull it all together with some excellent songwriting, mixing manic melodic riffs and staccato drums in opposition without letting it all descend into nonsensical noise. Some of the tracks do swerve a bit much from one extreme to another and lose the cohesion, but more often than not this one’s one heck of a ride, full of surprises, technical wizardry, and all the drugs that are not good for you. 3.5/5.0

Felagund: I enjoy the Rodeö feature much more when I have something positive to say about the album we’re reviewing. And truly, how could I hate on the off-kilter package that Zakula has delivered? White Forest Rain Lullabies is the band’s sophomore outing, and they’ve embraced the well-trod kitchen sink approach. Sure, Zakula might arrive on a wave of thrash, but stick around and you’ll be accosted by an undertow of industrial, prog, black metal, and noise. As you struggle against the deluge, you may hear dashes of Coroner, Voivod, and even Oingo Boingo. There’s plenty of synths, light orchestration, squealing guitars, and highly augmented, blackened vocals that’ll pull you even further out past the breakers. Yet somehow, these zany Greeks pull it off. Whether you’re looking for crunchy thrash riffs (“Olethros,” “Children of Haze,”) frenzied, cacophonous noise (“Melancholy,” “White Forest Rain Lullabies”) or spacy synths (“Remains,” “Children of Haze”) Zakula delivers the goods both cohesively and effectively, something even well-seasoned musicians struggle to do. Unfortunately, in their zeal to cram more genres, instrumentation, and ideas into each song, Zakula has inadvertently delivered a record in dire need of some editing. On a six-song album, there are three tracks that clock in at or over eight minutes, and each would have been leaner, meaner, and more impactful with just two to three minutes shaved off. This certainly isn’t a deal breaker, but it does stifle the momentum of an otherwise promising album. Still, I’d recommend White Forest Rain Lullabies, especially to all you little freaks out there. 3.0/5.0

Iceberg: While I tend to follow the Germanic school of thought that order and structure rule supreme, I have a soft spot for unpredictable, chaotic music. Dolph has zeroed in on this personal weakness, and continues to poke and prod me with insanity I can’t help but love. Zakula barely manages to control their chaos across an impressive forty minutes of music with White Forest Reign Lullabies, throwing so many genres against the wall that I’d waste word count listing them here. From the deliriously quick, heaving chromatic leads of “Όλεθρος” to the relentless, across-the-bar ostinati of “Remains,” Zakula sinks their hooks into the listener and refuses to let go. Mid-album heavyweight “Melancholy” is a twisting nine minutes that feels much shorter than that, and it’s middle section is straight from a Twilight Zone soundtrack, successfully blended with speed metal bookends. Every time I’ve come back to this record I’ve found a new corner to explore, a new chromatic tremolo, a new electronic underpinning. The title track and “Ton 618” don’t hit quite as hard as their album-mates, and there could be a case for some more editing, but the amount of fat amongst these tracks is pretty minimal. White Forest Reign Lullabies marks a triumph for the Athenians, and I can easily see it increasing in score as it continues to worm its way into my brainstem. An absolute must for fans of extreme music that blows right past anything resembling a boundary. 3.5/5.0

Alekhines Gun: If metal were a snack, White Forest Reign Lullabies would be the chunkiest of trail mix. Zakula assembles a brand of blackened thrash, piano, clean vocals, interludes, and electronica in an absurd, bizarrely effective middle finger to our stance at AMG Inc. that less is more. Do you love synth shreddage? Zakula pack in enough to make His Statue Falls blush and Fail Emotions suggest toning it down a bit. Do you love blackened thrash? White Forest Reign Lullabies pack in the spirit of Urn with pained vocals pulled straight from modern Asphyx, seeking to kick arse with beer and steel-toed boot. The sincerity behind the more metal riffs serves as a surprising counterpart to the instrumental excess on display here, keeping Zakula from being mistaken for a mere gimmick band. Look no further than the opening minute of “Melancholy” to realize this band is in no way here to mess around, even if it seems like they can’t commit to a style for long enough to do anything but. Some people will cry that this album lacks cohesion, identity, and focus, and those are people who don’t like fun. Your tolerance for this album will certainly depend on your joy for madcap zany ADHD (positive) song structures. But for those looking for a walk on the wild side, come enjoy some sweet Lullabies. Or as Zakula would ask, “How can less be more? That’s impossible!” 3.0/5.0

Thyme: Three years after their 2021 eponymous debut, Greek thrashers Zakula return with White Forest Reign Lullabies. From the first swift, surgically precise riff and chaotic keyboard run of opener, “Όλεθρος,” it’s clear Zakula is no straight-line descendant of the (some say tragically Overkill-less) Big Four — no sir. Zakula’s brand of blackened thrash has an everything-and-the-kitchen-sink quality to it that not only belies its genre tags but makes drawing valid comparisons difficult. If Mr. Bungle and Xoth paid Titan to Tachyons for a threesome, you’d at least be in the ballpark, as every second of this six-song, forty-minute tornado is engaging as fook. The songwriting, especially on the lengthier tracks (“Melancholy,” “Children of Haze”), showcases what Zakula does best. And that’s providing a wealth of melt-in-your-mouth goodness chock full of visceral riffs, Xothically spacy synths, and Schuldiner by way of Van Drunen1 vocals that imbue a particular deathly black menace to each of these thrashtastically jazzy (thrazzy? thrazztastic?)2 compositions. Full of twists, turns, and surprises designed to keep the listener guessing but never letting them get lost in the woods, White Forest Reign Lullabies is an album I strongly suggest you check out. At this rate, Zakula won’t stay Rodeö bait for much longer. 3.5/5.0

#AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #Asphyx #BlackMetal #Coroner #Death #GreekMetal #IndependentRelease #MrBungle #OingoBoingo #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Stam1na #TechnicalThrashMetal #ThrashMetal #TitanToTachyons #Vektor #Voivod #WhiteForestReignLullabies #Xoth #Zakula

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Zakula – White Forest Reign Lullabies

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.”

It takes a bit of effort to assemble the fickle tastes of the Rodeö gang, as distinguished and willing as they may be. Now, I won’t say that the lure of a unsigned gem requires trickery, but with a band like Zakula, explaining their style straight doesn’t stand as an option. These Athenian speed demons slap the simplest of tags across their Bandcamp page: death metal, black metal, thrash metal. And frustratingly, that’s the truth too! But what does it mean? Chunky riffs that dance about flailing tempos with a dramatic vocal character? Kind of. How about sneaky lead melodies that tumble against bright synth crashes into whiplash thrash and manic shrieks? White Forest Reign Lullabies doesn’t make explanation easy, but Zakula does play metal with lots of twists. This is the kind of challenge for which the Rodeö crew—now with the recently demoted n00b Tyme in the mix—lives! And, also proof that they too are capable of enjoyment. – Dolphin Whisperer

Zakula // White Forest Reign Lullabies [October 25th, 2024]

GardensTale: Zakula was initially sold to me as weirdo black metal. Foul! This is clearly weirdo tech thrash, a niche I seldom dabble in. As such, I find myself more unmoored than usual, with my frame of reference limited to Stam1na and my meager exposure to Vektor, whose frontman I disliked for his vocals and dislike more for his abuse. But while a few comparisons can be drawn from Zakula to either, this is a different beast altogether. White Forest Reign Lullabies is fast as hell, frequently discordant, and seems designed to keep you off-balance. The guitars throw me off the least, somehow, though their rapid tremolos and triplets and trips up and down the scales require close attention. More unsettling are the hoarse histrionics that make up the vocals, which sound ragged and desperate and are played backward on at least one occasion, and the erratic drums that go from maddeningly consistent to plain mad. But it’s the electronics that send me over the edge. The dissonant slides and squeaks and blips have a panic-inducing effect that reminds me of VAK at about nine times the speed. Somehow, though, the Greeks pull it all together with some excellent songwriting, mixing manic melodic riffs and staccato drums in opposition without letting it all descend into nonsensical noise. Some of the tracks do swerve a bit much from one extreme to another and lose the cohesion, but more often than not this one’s one heck of a ride, full of surprises, technical wizardry, and all the drugs that are not good for you. 3.5/5.0

Felagund: I enjoy the Rodeö feature much more when I have something positive to say about the album we’re reviewing. And truly, how could I hate on the off-kilter package that Zakula has delivered? White Forest Rain Lullabies is the band’s sophomore outing, and they’ve embraced the well-trod kitchen sink approach. Sure, Zakula might arrive on a wave of thrash, but stick around and you’ll be accosted by an undertow of industrial, prog, black metal, and noise. As you struggle against the deluge, you may hear dashes of Coroner, Voivod, and even Oingo Boingo. There’s plenty of synths, light orchestration, squealing guitars, and highly augmented, blackened vocals that’ll pull you even further out past the breakers. Yet somehow, these zany Greeks pull it off. Whether you’re looking for crunchy thrash riffs (“Olethros,” “Children of Haze,”) frenzied, cacophonous noise (“Melancholy,” “White Forest Rain Lullabies”) or spacy synths (“Remains,” “Children of Haze”) Zakula delivers the goods both cohesively and effectively, something even well-seasoned musicians struggle to do. Unfortunately, in their zeal to cram more genres, instrumentation, and ideas into each song, Zakula has inadvertently delivered a record in dire need of some editing. On a six-song album, there are three tracks that clock in at or over eight minutes, and each would have been leaner, meaner, and more impactful with just two to three minutes shaved off. This certainly isn’t a deal breaker, but it does stifle the momentum of an otherwise promising album. Still, I’d recommend White Forest Rain Lullabies, especially to all you little freaks out there. 3.0/5.0

Iceberg: While I tend to follow the Germanic school of thought that order and structure rule supreme, I have a soft spot for unpredictable, chaotic music. Dolph has zeroed in on this personal weakness, and continues to poke and prod me with insanity I can’t help but love. Zakula barely manages to control their chaos across an impressive forty minutes of music with White Forest Reign Lullabies, throwing so many genres against the wall that I’d waste word count listing them here. From the deliriously quick, heaving chromatic leads of “Όλεθρος” to the relentless, across-the-bar ostinati of “Remains,” Zakula sinks their hooks into the listener and refuses to let go. Mid-album heavyweight “Melancholy” is a twisting nine minutes that feels much shorter than that, and it’s middle section is straight from a Twilight Zone soundtrack, successfully blended with speed metal bookends. Every time I’ve come back to this record I’ve found a new corner to explore, a new chromatic tremolo, a new electronic underpinning. The title track and “Ton 618” don’t hit quite as hard as their album-mates, and there could be a case for some more editing, but the amount of fat amongst these tracks is pretty minimal. White Forest Reign Lullabies marks a triumph for the Athenians, and I can easily see it increasing in score as it continues to worm its way into my brainstem. An absolute must for fans of extreme music that blows right past anything resembling a boundary. 3.5/5.0

Alekhines Gun: If metal were a snack, White Forest Reign Lullabies would be the chunkiest of trail mix. Zakula assembles a brand of blackened thrash, piano, clean vocals, interludes, and electronica in an absurd, bizarrely effective middle finger to our stance at AMG Inc. that less is more. Do you love synth shreddage? Zakula pack in enough to make His Statue Falls blush and Fail Emotions suggest toning it down a bit. Do you love blackened thrash? White Forest Reign Lullabies pack in the spirit of Urn with pained vocals pulled straight from modern Asphyx, seeking to kick arse with beer and steel-toed boot. The sincerity behind the more metal riffs serves as a surprising counterpart to the instrumental excess on display here, keeping Zakula from being mistaken for a mere gimmick band. Look no further than the opening minute of “Melancholy” to realize this band is in no way here to mess around, even if it seems like they can’t commit to a style for long enough to do anything but. Some people will cry that this album lacks cohesion, identity, and focus, and those are people who don’t like fun. Your tolerance for this album will certainly depend on your joy for madcap zany ADHD (positive) song structures. But for those looking for a walk on the wild side, come enjoy some sweet Lullabies. Or as Zakula would ask, “How can less be more? That’s impossible!” 3.0/5.0

Thyme: Three years after their 2021 eponymous debut, Greek thrashers Zakula return with White Forest Reign Lullabies. From the first swift, surgically precise riff and chaotic keyboard run of opener, “Όλεθρος,” it’s clear Zakula is no straight-line descendant of the (some say tragically Overkill-less) Big Four — no sir. Zakula’s brand of blackened thrash has an everything-and-the-kitchen-sink quality to it that not only belies its genre tags but makes drawing valid comparisons difficult. If Mr. Bungle and Xoth paid Titan to Tachyons for a threesome, you’d at least be in the ballpark, as every second of this six-song, forty-minute tornado is engaging as fook. The songwriting, especially on the lengthier tracks (“Melancholy,” “Children of Haze”), showcases what Zakula does best. And that’s providing a wealth of melt-in-your-mouth goodness chock full of visceral riffs, Xothically spacy synths, and Schuldiner by way of Van Drunen1 vocals that imbue a particular deathly black menace to each of these thrashtastically jazzy (thrazzy? thrazztastic?)2 compositions. Full of twists, turns, and surprises designed to keep the listener guessing but never letting them get lost in the woods, White Forest Reign Lullabies is an album I strongly suggest you check out. At this rate, Zakula won’t stay Rodeö bait for much longer. 3.5/5.0

#AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #Asphyx #BlackMetal #Coroner #Death #GreekMetal #IndependentRelease #MrBungle #OingoBoingo #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Stam1na #TechnicalThrashMetal #ThrashMetal #TitanToTachyons #Vektor #Voivod #WhiteForestReignLullabies #Xoth #Zakula

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Zakula – White Forest Reign Lullabies

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.”

It takes a bit of effort to assemble the fickle tastes of the Rodeö gang, as distinguished and willing as they may be. Now, I won’t say that the lure of a unsigned gem requires trickery, but with a band like Zakula, explaining their style straight doesn’t stand as an option. These Athenian speed demons slap the simplest of tags across their Bandcamp page: death metal, black metal, thrash metal. And frustratingly, that’s the truth too! But what does it mean? Chunky riffs that dance about flailing tempos with a dramatic vocal character? Kind of. How about sneaky lead melodies that tumble against bright synth crashes into whiplash thrash and manic shrieks? White Forest Reign Lullabies doesn’t make explanation easy, but Zakula does play metal with lots of twists. This is the kind of challenge for which the Rodeö crew—now with the recently demoted n00b Tyme in the mix—lives! And, also proof that they too are capable of enjoyment. – Dolphin Whisperer

Zakula // White Forest Reign Lullabies [October 25th, 2024]

GardensTale: Zakula was initially sold to me as weirdo black metal. Foul! This is clearly weirdo tech thrash, a niche I seldom dabble in. As such, I find myself more unmoored than usual, with my frame of reference limited to Stam1na and my meager exposure to Vektor, whose frontman I disliked for his vocals and dislike more for his abuse. But while a few comparisons can be drawn from Zakula to either, this is a different beast altogether. White Forest Reign Lullabies is fast as hell, frequently discordant, and seems designed to keep you off-balance. The guitars throw me off the least, somehow, though their rapid tremolos and triplets and trips up and down the scales require close attention. More unsettling are the hoarse histrionics that make up the vocals, which sound ragged and desperate and are played backward on at least one occasion, and the erratic drums that go from maddeningly consistent to plain mad. But it’s the electronics that send me over the edge. The dissonant slides and squeaks and blips have a panic-inducing effect that reminds me of VAK at about nine times the speed. Somehow, though, the Greeks pull it all together with some excellent songwriting, mixing manic melodic riffs and staccato drums in opposition without letting it all descend into nonsensical noise. Some of the tracks do swerve a bit much from one extreme to another and lose the cohesion, but more often than not this one’s one heck of a ride, full of surprises, technical wizardry, and all the drugs that are not good for you. 3.5/5.0

Felagund: I enjoy the Rodeö feature much more when I have something positive to say about the album we’re reviewing. And truly, how could I hate on the off-kilter package that Zakula has delivered? White Forest Rain Lullabies is the band’s sophomore outing, and they’ve embraced the well-trod kitchen sink approach. Sure, Zakula might arrive on a wave of thrash, but stick around and you’ll be accosted by an undertow of industrial, prog, black metal, and noise. As you struggle against the deluge, you may hear dashes of Coroner, Voivod, and even Oingo Boingo. There’s plenty of synths, light orchestration, squealing guitars, and highly augmented, blackened vocals that’ll pull you even further out past the breakers. Yet somehow, these zany Greeks pull it off. Whether you’re looking for crunchy thrash riffs (“Olethros,” “Children of Haze,”) frenzied, cacophonous noise (“Melancholy,” “White Forest Rain Lullabies”) or spacy synths (“Remains,” “Children of Haze”) Zakula delivers the goods both cohesively and effectively, something even well-seasoned musicians struggle to do. Unfortunately, in their zeal to cram more genres, instrumentation, and ideas into each song, Zakula has inadvertently delivered a record in dire need of some editing. On a six-song album, there are three tracks that clock in at or over eight minutes, and each would have been leaner, meaner, and more impactful with just two to three minutes shaved off. This certainly isn’t a deal breaker, but it does stifle the momentum of an otherwise promising album. Still, I’d recommend White Forest Rain Lullabies, especially to all you little freaks out there. 3.0/5.0

Iceberg: While I tend to follow the Germanic school of thought that order and structure rule supreme, I have a soft spot for unpredictable, chaotic music. Dolph has zeroed in on this personal weakness, and continues to poke and prod me with insanity I can’t help but love. Zakula barely manages to control their chaos across an impressive forty minutes of music with White Forest Reign Lullabies, throwing so many genres against the wall that I’d waste word count listing them here. From the deliriously quick, heaving chromatic leads of “Όλεθρος” to the relentless, across-the-bar ostinati of “Remains,” Zakula sinks their hooks into the listener and refuses to let go. Mid-album heavyweight “Melancholy” is a twisting nine minutes that feels much shorter than that, and it’s middle section is straight from a Twilight Zone soundtrack, successfully blended with speed metal bookends. Every time I’ve come back to this record I’ve found a new corner to explore, a new chromatic tremolo, a new electronic underpinning. The title track and “Ton 618” don’t hit quite as hard as their album-mates, and there could be a case for some more editing, but the amount of fat amongst these tracks is pretty minimal. White Forest Reign Lullabies marks a triumph for the Athenians, and I can easily see it increasing in score as it continues to worm its way into my brainstem. An absolute must for fans of extreme music that blows right past anything resembling a boundary. 3.5/5.0

Alekhines Gun: If metal were a snack, White Forest Reign Lullabies would be the chunkiest of trail mix. Zakula assembles a brand of blackened thrash, piano, clean vocals, interludes, and electronica in an absurd, bizarrely effective middle finger to our stance at AMG Inc. that less is more. Do you love synth shreddage? Zakula pack in enough to make His Statue Falls blush and Fail Emotions suggest toning it down a bit. Do you love blackened thrash? White Forest Reign Lullabies pack in the spirit of Urn with pained vocals pulled straight from modern Asphyx, seeking to kick arse with beer and steel-toed boot. The sincerity behind the more metal riffs serves as a surprising counterpart to the instrumental excess on display here, keeping Zakula from being mistaken for a mere gimmick band. Look no further than the opening minute of “Melancholy” to realize this band is in no way here to mess around, even if it seems like they can’t commit to a style for long enough to do anything but. Some people will cry that this album lacks cohesion, identity, and focus, and those are people who don’t like fun. Your tolerance for this album will certainly depend on your joy for madcap zany ADHD (positive) song structures. But for those looking for a walk on the wild side, come enjoy some sweet Lullabies. Or as Zakula would ask, “How can less be more? That’s impossible!” 3.0/5.0

Thyme: Three years after their 2021 eponymous debut, Greek thrashers Zakula return with White Forest Reign Lullabies. From the first swift, surgically precise riff and chaotic keyboard run of opener, “Όλεθρος,” it’s clear Zakula is no straight-line descendant of the (some say tragically Overkill-less) Big Four — no sir. Zakula’s brand of blackened thrash has an everything-and-the-kitchen-sink quality to it that not only belies its genre tags but makes drawing valid comparisons difficult. If Mr. Bungle and Xoth paid Titan to Tachyons for a threesome, you’d at least be in the ballpark, as every second of this six-song, forty-minute tornado is engaging as fook. The songwriting, especially on the lengthier tracks (“Melancholy,” “Children of Haze”), showcases what Zakula does best. And that’s providing a wealth of melt-in-your-mouth goodness chock full of visceral riffs, Xothically spacy synths, and Schuldiner by way of Van Drunen1 vocals that imbue a particular deathly black menace to each of these thrashtastically jazzy (thrazzy? thrazztastic?)2 compositions. Full of twists, turns, and surprises designed to keep the listener guessing but never letting them get lost in the woods, White Forest Reign Lullabies is an album I strongly suggest you check out. At this rate, Zakula won’t stay Rodeö bait for much longer. 3.5/5.0

#AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #Asphyx #BlackMetal #Coroner #Death #GreekMetal #IndependentRelease #MrBungle #OingoBoingo #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Stam1na #TechnicalThrashMetal #ThrashMetal #TitanToTachyons #Vektor #Voivod #WhiteForestReignLullabies #Xoth #Zakula

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Questing Beast – Birth

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.”

In this year of 2024, artists on the rise have an untold treasure of heavy metal history and knowledge from which they may conjure works of the distorted and riffy kind. That’s how young acts like Questing Beast can come across with their self-imposed “power doom” tag without sounding too much like bearers of the odd torch who came before like Memory Garden or Morgana Lefay. Rather, Birth wears shades of power through vocalist Joe Harris, whose trained vibrato runs equal parts dramatic and powerful while still finding room to switch to a sorrowful tone. And the doom comes out to play through traditional lurching riffs, dry stoner drives, and extended harmonic melodies. But with Elder-like (or maybe a little more Lyle Mays to these ears) glistening interludes and shifting tempo structures, is this also prog? My oh my, what a journey Questing Beast has set forth for our hard-to-please Rodeö crew. But I think it’s a beast they can wrangle, at least this time around. – Dolphin Whisperer

Questing Beast // Birth [June 14th, 2024]

Kenstrosity: I am not known for being particularly picky when it comes to metal in general. However, for one reason or another, I tend to be more selective about the tried and trve ways ov heavy metal. Regardless of pedigree or outside hybridizations, when I see the “heavy metal” tag, I exclaim with much prejudice, “we’ll see about that!” Enter New Hampshire’s proggy heavy metal quintet Questing Beast and their debut full-length, appropriately named Birth. Unexpectedly crunchy grooves and frankly beautiful melodies characterize the majority portion of these pieces (“At Crater’s Edge,” “Growth,” “Titan’s Grip”). But, it’s the more consistent presence of palpable grit in the instrumentation, as companion to the smooth and crystalline pipes at the mic, which makes the magic of the record’s best moments (“The Comet’s Tale,” Beneath Red Leaves,” “Corruption,” “Call of the North”). Using this uncommonly well-realized formula as the basis for strong storytelling and musical composition, Questing Beast handily carve out a niche for themselves in the metalverse that makes the most out of their heavy metal heritage without trying to play strict homage to it. While many of their songs could use a bit more immediacy and the vocalist’s falsetto a bit more stable power, Questing Beast make a compelling case for themselves on their first try. Let’s see if they can follow through on album two! 3.0/5.0

Cherd: On paper, Questing Beast looks like a textbook case of multiple personality disorder. They refer to themselves as “power doom,” but their sound is a circus tent pitched over three rings of power metal, classic doom, traditional/epic heavy metal and progressive metal. And that’s not all, folks. “Corruption” includes the above PLUS a healthy dose of djenty deathcore. Remarkably, the band mostly pulls it all off. Their debut full-length Birth is best when it leans into the older styles of metal. “Titan’s Grip” is a fine epic heavy metal tune updated for contemporary ears. Meanwhile, “At Crater’s Edge” sees them sounding like a bouncier Candlemass. This comparison is especially apt because of classically trained vocalist Joe Harris, who hews closer to Johan Längqvist than to Messiah Marcolin. Harris’ powerful pipes and smooth-like-butter timbre, along with the clearly talented instrumentalists in this quintet, keep Questing Beast’s sound from descending into chaos. Things do go a bit soft in the middle of the record from a songwriting standpoint, but all the material before the first instrumental and after the second one is eyebrow-raising, invigorating stuff. 3.0/5.0

Itchymenace: Beast indeed! This album has a lot going on. There are elements of thrash, prog, death, classic metal and even some jazz. Unfortunately, this ambitious hodgepodge never coalesced in a way that I found compelling or enjoyable. Birth’s primary fault is a lack of a common thread or a narrative that ties it all together. I felt pulled in numerous directions, questing for a voice that would guide me through the disparate tracks. Instead, I got a lot of operatic wailing that never seemed to find its place within the music. Where bands like Iron Maiden or Judas Priest use this style effectively to balance the sonic frequencies across the mix, it feels like Questing Beast stole a vocal track from one album and tried to make it fit over another. I don’t know if it’s a shortcoming in the production, the songwriting, the performance or all three. Much of the lyrical content doesn’t help either. The call and response during “At Crater’s Edge” was about as silly as it gets without being Anvil. Musically, I can appreciate what the band is trying to do. The guitars are crunchy with a classic harmonic metal sound that I love. There are some good riffs and competent playing but that is not enough to make me want to put it on again. Hopefully there is life after-Birth. I wish I could give this a better score. 2.0/5.0

Why unicorn a band when they have their own mythical beast icon?

Mystikus Hugebeard: Birth is a righteous debut by a brand-new band that is already swinging for the fences. This album is, upon reflection, even grander than perhaps it might feel in the moment as you listen to it. During a typical spin, my focus is easily held by the crunchy, exciting riffs that dominate the tracklist, from the slower doom that opens “The Comet’s Tail,” through the energetic classic-metal-tinged guitars in “Beneath Red Leaves,” to the unstoppable pounding riffs of “Call of the North.” But the larger scale of Birth really creeps up on you. Complex rhythms (“Corruption”) and unconventional melodies (“Growth”) speak to Questing Beast’s admirable ambition, and they have the talent to pull off these progressive elements. It’s the bodacious, borderline campy vocals, rather, that make Birth feel epic and they cement the album’s lasting appeal for me. They’re full of righteous but tastefully applied vibrato, and the singer has the endearing timbre of an unrefined but uber-talented vocalist giving 110% that’s just hard to find these days. Some elements do betray Questing Beast’s green-ness in a more harmful way, though. Birth is crying out for some killer guitar solos to punctuate the riffs and further heighten the scale, but the few we get are underwhelming and come across as a bit sloppy, with the exception of “Beneath Red Leaves.” Furthermore, I think the drums can sound a little too sharp and could use a less distracting mix. Despite that, the broad strokes of Birth are a big success for me. Birth is the kind of hidden gem that’s exciting to discover, and leaves me with a big, satisfied grin on my face. 3.0/5.0

#2024 #AmericanMetal #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #Birth #Candlemass #DoomMetal #Elder #IndependentRelease #IronMaiden #JudasPriest #Jun24 #LyleMays #MemoryGarden #MorganaLefay #PowerMetal #ProgressiveDoomMetal #ProgressiveMetal #QuestingBeast #SelfRelease #StonerDoomMetal

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Questing Beast – Birth

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.”

In this year of 2024, artists on the rise have an untold treasure of heavy metal history and knowledge from which they may conjure works of the distorted and riffy kind. That’s how young acts like Questing Beast can come across with their self-imposed “power doom” tag without sounding too much like bearers of the odd torch who came before like Memory Garden or Morgana Lefay. Rather, Birth wears shades of power through vocalist Joe Harris, whose trained vibrato runs equal parts dramatic and powerful while still finding room to switch to a sorrowful tone. And the doom comes out to play through traditional lurching riffs, dry stoner drives, and extended harmonic melodies. But with Elder-like (or maybe a little more Lyle Mays to these ears) glistening interludes and shifting tempo structures, is this also prog? My oh my, what a journey Questing Beast has set forth for our hard-to-please Rodeö crew. But I think it’s a beast they can wrangle, at least this time around. – Dolphin Whisperer

Questing Beast // Birth [June 14th, 2024]

Kenstrosity: I am not known for being particularly picky when it comes to metal in general. However, for one reason or another, I tend to be more selective about the tried and trve ways ov heavy metal. Regardless of pedigree or outside hybridizations, when I see the “heavy metal” tag, I exclaim with much prejudice, “we’ll see about that!” Enter New Hampshire’s proggy heavy metal quintet Questing Beast and their debut full-length, appropriately named Birth. Unexpectedly crunchy grooves and frankly beautiful melodies characterize the majority portion of these pieces (“At Crater’s Edge,” “Growth,” “Titan’s Grip”). But, it’s the more consistent presence of palpable grit in the instrumentation, as companion to the smooth and crystalline pipes at the mic, which makes the magic of the record’s best moments (“The Comet’s Tale,” Beneath Red Leaves,” “Corruption,” “Call of the North”). Using this uncommonly well-realized formula as the basis for strong storytelling and musical composition, Questing Beast handily carve out a niche for themselves in the metalverse that makes the most out of their heavy metal heritage without trying to play strict homage to it. While many of their songs could use a bit more immediacy and the vocalist’s falsetto a bit more stable power, Questing Beast make a compelling case for themselves on their first try. Let’s see if they can follow through on album two! 3.0/5.0

Cherd: On paper, Questing Beast looks like a textbook case of multiple personality disorder. They refer to themselves as “power doom,” but their sound is a circus tent pitched over three rings of power metal, classic doom, traditional/epic heavy metal and progressive metal. And that’s not all, folks. “Corruption” includes the above PLUS a healthy dose of djenty deathcore. Remarkably, the band mostly pulls it all off. Their debut full-length Birth is best when it leans into the older styles of metal. “Titan’s Grip” is a fine epic heavy metal tune updated for contemporary ears. Meanwhile, “At Crater’s Edge” sees them sounding like a bouncier Candlemass. This comparison is especially apt because of classically trained vocalist Joe Harris, who hews closer to Johan Längqvist than to Messiah Marcolin. Harris’ powerful pipes and smooth-like-butter timbre, along with the clearly talented instrumentalists in this quintet, keep Questing Beast’s sound from descending into chaos. Things do go a bit soft in the middle of the record from a songwriting standpoint, but all the material before the first instrumental and after the second one is eyebrow-raising, invigorating stuff. 3.0/5.0

Itchymenace: Beast indeed! This album has a lot going on. There are elements of thrash, prog, death, classic metal and even some jazz. Unfortunately, this ambitious hodgepodge never coalesced in a way that I found compelling or enjoyable. Birth’s primary fault is a lack of a common thread or a narrative that ties it all together. I felt pulled in numerous directions, questing for a voice that would guide me through the disparate tracks. Instead, I got a lot of operatic wailing that never seemed to find its place within the music. Where bands like Iron Maiden or Judas Priest use this style effectively to balance the sonic frequencies across the mix, it feels like Questing Beast stole a vocal track from one album and tried to make it fit over another. I don’t know if it’s a shortcoming in the production, the songwriting, the performance or all three. Much of the lyrical content doesn’t help either. The call and response during “At Crater’s Edge” was about as silly as it gets without being Anvil. Musically, I can appreciate what the band is trying to do. The guitars are crunchy with a classic harmonic metal sound that I love. There are some good riffs and competent playing but that is not enough to make me want to put it on again. Hopefully there is life after-Birth. I wish I could give this a better score. 2.0/5.0

Why unicorn a band when they have their own mythical beast icon?

Mystikus Hugebeard: Birth is a righteous debut by a brand-new band that is already swinging for the fences. This album is, upon reflection, even grander than perhaps it might feel in the moment as you listen to it. During a typical spin, my focus is easily held by the crunchy, exciting riffs that dominate the tracklist, from the slower doom that opens “The Comet’s Tail,” through the energetic classic-metal-tinged guitars in “Beneath Red Leaves,” to the unstoppable pounding riffs of “Call of the North.” But the larger scale of Birth really creeps up on you. Complex rhythms (“Corruption”) and unconventional melodies (“Growth”) speak to Questing Beast’s admirable ambition, and they have the talent to pull off these progressive elements. It’s the bodacious, borderline campy vocals, rather, that make Birth feel epic and they cement the album’s lasting appeal for me. They’re full of righteous but tastefully applied vibrato, and the singer has the endearing timbre of an unrefined but uber-talented vocalist giving 110% that’s just hard to find these days. Some elements do betray Questing Beast’s green-ness in a more harmful way, though. Birth is crying out for some killer guitar solos to punctuate the riffs and further heighten the scale, but the few we get are underwhelming and come across as a bit sloppy, with the exception of “Beneath Red Leaves.” Furthermore, I think the drums can sound a little too sharp and could use a less distracting mix. Despite that, the broad strokes of Birth are a big success for me. Birth is the kind of hidden gem that’s exciting to discover, and leaves me with a big, satisfied grin on my face. 3.0/5.0

#2024 #AmericanMetal #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #Birth #Candlemass #DoomMetal #Elder #IndependentRelease #IronMaiden #JudasPriest #Jun24 #LyleMays #MemoryGarden #MorganaLefay #PowerMetal #ProgressiveDoomMetal #ProgressiveMetal #QuestingBeast #SelfRelease #StonerDoomMetal

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Questing Beast – Birth

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.”

In this year of 2024, artists on the rise have an untold treasure of heavy metal history and knowledge from which they may conjure works of the distorted and riffy kind. That’s how young acts like Questing Beast can come across with their self-imposed “power doom” tag without sounding too much like bearers of the odd torch who came before like Memory Garden or Morgana Lefay. Rather, Birth wears shades of power through vocalist Joe Harris, whose trained vibrato runs equal parts dramatic and powerful while still finding room to switch to a sorrowful tone. And the doom comes out to play through traditional lurching riffs, dry stoner drives, and extended harmonic melodies. But with Elder-like (or maybe a little more Lyle Mays to these ears) glistening interludes and shifting tempo structures, is this also prog? My oh my, what a journey Questing Beast has set forth for our hard-to-please Rodeö crew. But I think it’s a beast they can wrangle, at least this time around. – Dolphin Whisperer

Questing Beast // Birth [June 14th, 2024]

Kenstrosity: I am not known for being particularly picky when it comes to metal in general. However, for one reason or another, I tend to be more selective about the tried and trve ways ov heavy metal. Regardless of pedigree or outside hybridizations, when I see the “heavy metal” tag, I exclaim with much prejudice, “we’ll see about that!” Enter New Hampshire’s proggy heavy metal quintet Questing Beast and their debut full-length, appropriately named Birth. Unexpectedly crunchy grooves and frankly beautiful melodies characterize the majority portion of these pieces (“At Crater’s Edge,” “Growth,” “Titan’s Grip”). But, it’s the more consistent presence of palpable grit in the instrumentation, as companion to the smooth and crystalline pipes at the mic, which makes the magic of the record’s best moments (“The Comet’s Tale,” Beneath Red Leaves,” “Corruption,” “Call of the North”). Using this uncommonly well-realized formula as the basis for strong storytelling and musical composition, Questing Beast handily carve out a niche for themselves in the metalverse that makes the most out of their heavy metal heritage without trying to play strict homage to it. While many of their songs could use a bit more immediacy and the vocalist’s falsetto a bit more stable power, Questing Beast make a compelling case for themselves on their first try. Let’s see if they can follow through on album two! 3.0/5.0

Cherd: On paper, Questing Beast looks like a textbook case of multiple personality disorder. They refer to themselves as “power doom,” but their sound is a circus tent pitched over three rings of power metal, classic doom, traditional/epic heavy metal and progressive metal. And that’s not all, folks. “Corruption” includes the above PLUS a healthy dose of djenty deathcore. Remarkably, the band mostly pulls it all off. Their debut full-length Birth is best when it leans into the older styles of metal. “Titan’s Grip” is a fine epic heavy metal tune updated for contemporary ears. Meanwhile, “At Crater’s Edge” sees them sounding like a bouncier Candlemass. This comparison is especially apt because of classically trained vocalist Joe Harris, who hews closer to Johan Längqvist than to Messiah Marcolin. Harris’ powerful pipes and smooth-like-butter timbre, along with the clearly talented instrumentalists in this quintet, keep Questing Beast’s sound from descending into chaos. Things do go a bit soft in the middle of the record from a songwriting standpoint, but all the material before the first instrumental and after the second one is eyebrow-raising, invigorating stuff. 3.0/5.0

Itchymenace: Beast indeed! This album has a lot going on. There are elements of thrash, prog, death, classic metal and even some jazz. Unfortunately, this ambitious hodgepodge never coalesced in a way that I found compelling or enjoyable. Birth’s primary fault is a lack of a common thread or a narrative that ties it all together. I felt pulled in numerous directions, questing for a voice that would guide me through the disparate tracks. Instead, I got a lot of operatic wailing that never seemed to find its place within the music. Where bands like Iron Maiden or Judas Priest use this style effectively to balance the sonic frequencies across the mix, it feels like Questing Beast stole a vocal track from one album and tried to make it fit over another. I don’t know if it’s a shortcoming in the production, the songwriting, the performance or all three. Much of the lyrical content doesn’t help either. The call and response during “At Crater’s Edge” was about as silly as it gets without being Anvil. Musically, I can appreciate what the band is trying to do. The guitars are crunchy with a classic harmonic metal sound that I love. There are some good riffs and competent playing but that is not enough to make me want to put it on again. Hopefully there is life after-Birth. I wish I could give this a better score. 2.0/5.0

Why unicorn a band when they have their own mythical beast icon?

Mystikus Hugebeard: Birth is a righteous debut by a brand-new band that is already swinging for the fences. This album is, upon reflection, even grander than perhaps it might feel in the moment as you listen to it. During a typical spin, my focus is easily held by the crunchy, exciting riffs that dominate the tracklist, from the slower doom that opens “The Comet’s Tail,” through the energetic classic-metal-tinged guitars in “Beneath Red Leaves,” to the unstoppable pounding riffs of “Call of the North.” But the larger scale of Birth really creeps up on you. Complex rhythms (“Corruption”) and unconventional melodies (“Growth”) speak to Questing Beast’s admirable ambition, and they have the talent to pull off these progressive elements. It’s the bodacious, borderline campy vocals, rather, that make Birth feel epic and they cement the album’s lasting appeal for me. They’re full of righteous but tastefully applied vibrato, and the singer has the endearing timbre of an unrefined but uber-talented vocalist giving 110% that’s just hard to find these days. Some elements do betray Questing Beast’s green-ness in a more harmful way, though. Birth is crying out for some killer guitar solos to punctuate the riffs and further heighten the scale, but the few we get are underwhelming and come across as a bit sloppy, with the exception of “Beneath Red Leaves.” Furthermore, I think the drums can sound a little too sharp and could use a less distracting mix. Despite that, the broad strokes of Birth are a big success for me. Birth is the kind of hidden gem that’s exciting to discover, and leaves me with a big, satisfied grin on my face. 3.0/5.0

#2024 #AmericanMetal #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #Birth #Candlemass #DoomMetal #Elder #IndependentRelease #IronMaiden #JudasPriest #Jun24 #LyleMays #MemoryGarden #MorganaLefay #PowerMetal #ProgressiveDoomMetal #ProgressiveMetal #QuestingBeast #SelfRelease #StonerDoomMetal

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Sunnata – Chasing Shadows

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.”

Does Poland evoke the heated and stinging breeze of the open desert to a lost mind? No? Sunnata likes to think otherwise, or at least it’s their life’s mission to expand on the ideas of exotic scales, eerie harmonization, and chanting repetitiveness to match the power of shifting sands in their homeland. Back in 2021, our very own Cherd had a tough time coming to terms with what these Eastern bloc mystics conjured on Burning in Heaven, Melting on Earth. But now a few years wiser, ever iterating,1 and pursuant of their own self-produced visions, can Sunnata sway both our grumpy grandpa Cherd and his crack rodeo crew with Chasing Shadows? – Dolphin Whisperer

Sunnata // Chasing Shadows [May 10th, 2024]

Cherd: I wasn’t terribly keen on Sunnata’s 2021 record Burning in Heaven, Melting on Earth, so I passed on reviewing their follow-up when it landed in the promo sump. Then Dolph decided to go and write a whole damn Rodeö about Chasing Shadows, so I figured I’d better give my two cents after all. Chasing Shadows is a definite step up, thanks to the heavy dose of 90s grunge these Poles have injected into their psych/stoner doom. I’m sure you’ll be sick of reading the name Alice In Chains by the end of this article, but good god do the vocal harmonies call them to mind. The strongest tracks, like “Torn” and “Saviour’s Raft” rely heavily on these. Meanwhile, when the band leans into their “exotic” side—vaguely Middle Eastern motifs—as they do on “Wishbone” and “The Tide,” the songs drag. There’s fat to trim across the album’s 60+ minutes, especially the throwaway closing quasi-dance track. That said, the eight-minute “Hunger” earns its entire runtime with a hypnotic tempo and the record’s best build up. There’s a lot to like in Chasing Shadows, even if there is some bloat. 3.0/5.0

Maddog: Sunnata’s Chasing Shadows is an hour of shameless psychedelia. Take Dvne riffs, add a pinch of Mayhem in Blue-era Hail Spirit Noir, and pour a bucket of fuzzy stoned melodies on top, and you get the gist. This recipe is a blessing and a curse. Chasing Shadows’ most well-formed pieces hit hard. When Sunnata focuses on developing melodies, they hold me transfixed, like on album highlight “Torn.” When Sunnata focuses on buildups, they whisk me out of the world and onto a dramatic ride (“Chimera”). When Sunnata focuses on rhythmic sections that hypnotize the listener, they conjure a beautiful soundscape, like the primordial chorus of “Hunger.” When Sunnata focuses on rock-solid bass lines, they add power and depth to their atmosphere (“Adrift”). But sometimes, Sunnata focuses on nothing. Even the strongest cuts overstay their welcome with meandering fuzz. As the album progresses, some full tracks get swallowed by tedium, and the moaned vocals become grating; neither undivided attention nor psilocybin can save songs like “The Sleeper” from fading into the background.2—Still, Sunnata has a talent for writing sludgy psychedelic passages that stand out from their peers. If they can trim some low-hanging fat and focus on their strengths, their next record could be a gem. 2.5/5.0

Dolphin Whisperer: Chasing Shadows seems to know exactly what it is—a dry, desert-wandering, bass-heavy affair that leans into psychedelia via shifting repetitions. And Sunnata seem to have figured out exactly how they want to explore this meditation—heavy and dark Alice in Chains vocal melodies, twangy stoner guitar refrains, and song drives that creep ever faster into their snaking swirl. Though, throughout this dusty adventure, guitar passages resemble less of the easy-to-digest percussive draws of a band like Kyuss and more of the modal and trilling explorations of similar sounds that you’d hear in an occult act like Sabbath Assembly. (“Chimera,” “Wishbone”). And on longer cuts, at least before Sunnata achieves maximum throttle, doom inflections, fat bass rumbling, and laser-pointing drone that bubbles and bakes and broils the experimental madhouse of Obake. But most importantly, as a fever dream like this sound, Chasing Shadows maintains a warping yet consistent tonality that slowly and sneakily lures as the rattle of a hissing pit viper to a lost and dazed traveler. It does, however, require a hefty dose of patience and practice to maintain a footing the whole way through its hour-long trial, its various interludes and strange darkwave closing adding little. To curious ears, though, Chasing Shadows will be an easy listen, despite its limited bag of tricks and hefty presence, and those who buy in fully to its tonal landscape may find even more rewards. 3.0/5.0

Itchymenace: Chasing Shadows reminds me of the Albert Camus story, The Adulterous Woman. In fact, the cover art seems plucked directly from the final scene in which the protagonist runs out into the Algerian desert a changed woman after realizing life with her husband will never fulfill her. The music provides the perfect soundtrack for the existential metamorphosis she goes through, or that anyone might go through when they peel back the delicate layers of life and search for deeper meaning. I did not expect to like this as much as I do, but Sunnata has created a masterpiece. This album drags you across a jagged desert landscape and drenches you in rich, dreamlike musical passages that leave you questioning your very existence. The music is complex, varied, heavy and meditative. The arrangements are deceptively simple to make the journey seem easy—until you realize you’re not in Kansas anymore. Especially noteworthy is how the bass guitar drives the compositions. Bassist Michal Dobrzanski’s tone is massive but somehow leaves plenty of room in the soundscape for Szymon Ewertowski and Adrian Gadomski’s intricate guitars and vocals. Drummer Robert Ruszczyk keeps a ritualistic tempo that seamlessly moves the caravan forward through the heart of darkness. If I were to try to describe this to a metalhead, I’d say imagine Alice in Chains trying to play Gorguts by way of Earth. Brilliant! Original! Frightening! And a new experience with every listen. 4.5/5.03

Mystikus Hugebeard: True to Sunnata’s desert prog premise, Chasing Shadows is a mirage: captivating, frustrating, and an incomplete vision of something spectacular. At sixty-two minutes long, the length will likely prove to be as controversial as it is intentional; repetition is key to Sunnata’s songwriting, as it weaves a surreal soundscape through thick, drawn-out riffs. Sometimes, it’s entrancing. Other times, I’m just bored. The more evolutionary tracks are where Chasing Shadows come to life. The off-key vocal layers and thick, fuzzy guitars are in “Chimera” and “Saviour’s Raft” take their time to progress into explosive riffs that feel earned by the buildup. Even a less progressive track like “Torn” works just by nature of how palpable the desert atmosphere is, with the chugging bass, elusive guitar lines, and hallucinatory vocals hypnotizing the listener. “Hunger” and “The Sleeper” also have a satisfying chug to them but feel emptier, with resolutions that are satisfying in the moment but still less memorable than those from earlier tracks. The worst offenders, “Wishbone” and “The Tide,” are almost completely aimless and are fully devoid of the strong atmospheric qualities that makes the rest work. The emulation of an endless trek through an endless desert is uncanny, and the aimlessness can work when paired with hypnotic songwriting like in “Torn,” but overall the lack of a meaningful destination or payoff within the already less engaging tracks only gets worse as the album drags on, and it slowly begins to drown out the parts that work well. I really love the thematic intent behind Chasing Shadows, which only makes the final result all the more frustrating that it falls short of being a truly great desert odyssey. 2.5/5.0

#2024 #AliceInChains #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #ChasingShadows #DoomMetal #Dvne #Earth #HailSpiritNoir #IndependentRelease #Kyuss #Obake #OccultRock #PolishMetal #PostMetal #PsychedelicDoomMetal #PsychedelicRock #SabbathAssembly #SelfRelease #StonerRock #Sunnata

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Sunnata – Chasing Shadows

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.”

Does Poland evoke the heated and stinging breeze of the open desert to a lost mind? No? Sunnata likes to think otherwise, or at least it’s their life’s mission to expand on the ideas of exotic scales, eerie harmonization, and chanting repetitiveness to match the power of shifting sands in their homeland. Back in 2021, our very own Cherd had a tough time coming to terms with what these Eastern bloc mystics conjured on Burning in Heaven, Melting on Earth. But now a few years wiser, ever iterating,1 and pursuant of their own self-produced visions, can Sunnata sway both our grumpy grandpa Cherd and his crack rodeo crew with Chasing Shadows? – Dolphin Whisperer

Sunnata // Chasing Shadows [May 10th, 2024]

Cherd: I wasn’t terribly keen on Sunnata’s 2021 record Burning in Heaven, Melting on Earth, so I passed on reviewing their follow-up when it landed in the promo sump. Then Dolph decided to go and write a whole damn Rodeö about Chasing Shadows, so I figured I’d better give my two cents after all. Chasing Shadows is a definite step up, thanks to the heavy dose of 90s grunge these Poles have injected into their psych/stoner doom. I’m sure you’ll be sick of reading the name Alice In Chains by the end of this article, but good god do the vocal harmonies call them to mind. The strongest tracks, like “Torn” and “Saviour’s Raft” rely heavily on these. Meanwhile, when the band leans into their “exotic” side—vaguely Middle Eastern motifs—as they do on “Wishbone” and “The Tide,” the songs drag. There’s fat to trim across the album’s 60+ minutes, especially the throwaway closing quasi-dance track. That said, the eight-minute “Hunger” earns its entire runtime with a hypnotic tempo and the record’s best build up. There’s a lot to like in Chasing Shadows, even if there is some bloat. 3.0/5.0

Maddog: Sunnata’s Chasing Shadows is an hour of shameless psychedelia. Take Dvne riffs, add a pinch of Mayhem in Blue-era Hail Spirit Noir, and pour a bucket of fuzzy stoned melodies on top, and you get the gist. This recipe is a blessing and a curse. Chasing Shadows’ most well-formed pieces hit hard. When Sunnata focuses on developing melodies, they hold me transfixed, like on album highlight “Torn.” When Sunnata focuses on buildups, they whisk me out of the world and onto a dramatic ride (“Chimera”). When Sunnata focuses on rhythmic sections that hypnotize the listener, they conjure a beautiful soundscape, like the primordial chorus of “Hunger.” When Sunnata focuses on rock-solid bass lines, they add power and depth to their atmosphere (“Adrift”). But sometimes, Sunnata focuses on nothing. Even the strongest cuts overstay their welcome with meandering fuzz. As the album progresses, some full tracks get swallowed by tedium, and the moaned vocals become grating; neither undivided attention nor psilocybin can save songs like “The Sleeper” from fading into the background.2—Still, Sunnata has a talent for writing sludgy psychedelic passages that stand out from their peers. If they can trim some low-hanging fat and focus on their strengths, their next record could be a gem. 2.5/5.0

Dolphin Whisperer: Chasing Shadows seems to know exactly what it is—a dry, desert-wandering, bass-heavy affair that leans into psychedelia via shifting repetitions. And Sunnata seem to have figured out exactly how they want to explore this meditation—heavy and dark Alice in Chains vocal melodies, twangy stoner guitar refrains, and song drives that creep ever faster into their snaking swirl. Though, throughout this dusty adventure, guitar passages resemble less of the easy-to-digest percussive draws of a band like Kyuss and more of the modal and trilling explorations of similar sounds that you’d hear in an occult act like Sabbath Assembly. (“Chimera,” “Wishbone”). And on longer cuts, at least before Sunnata achieves maximum throttle, doom inflections, fat bass rumbling, and laser-pointing drone that bubbles and bakes and broils the experimental madhouse of Obake. But most importantly, as a fever dream like this sound, Chasing Shadows maintains a warping yet consistent tonality that slowly and sneakily lures as the rattle of a hissing pit viper to a lost and dazed traveler. It does, however, require a hefty dose of patience and practice to maintain a footing the whole way through its hour-long trial, its various interludes and strange darkwave closing adding little. To curious ears, though, Chasing Shadows will be an easy listen, despite its limited bag of tricks and hefty presence, and those who buy in fully to its tonal landscape may find even more rewards. 3.0/5.0

Itchymenace: Chasing Shadows reminds me of the Albert Camus story, The Adulterous Woman. In fact, the cover art seems plucked directly from the final scene in which the protagonist runs out into the Algerian desert a changed woman after realizing life with her husband will never fulfill her. The music provides the perfect soundtrack for the existential metamorphosis she goes through, or that anyone might go through when they peel back the delicate layers of life and search for deeper meaning. I did not expect to like this as much as I do, but Sunnata has created a masterpiece. This album drags you across a jagged desert landscape and drenches you in rich, dreamlike musical passages that leave you questioning your very existence. The music is complex, varied, heavy and meditative. The arrangements are deceptively simple to make the journey seem easy—until you realize you’re not in Kansas anymore. Especially noteworthy is how the bass guitar drives the compositions. Bassist Michal Dobrzanski’s tone is massive but somehow leaves plenty of room in the soundscape for Szymon Ewertowski and Adrian Gadomski’s intricate guitars and vocals. Drummer Robert Ruszczyk keeps a ritualistic tempo that seamlessly moves the caravan forward through the heart of darkness. If I were to try to describe this to a metalhead, I’d say imagine Alice in Chains trying to play Gorguts by way of Earth. Brilliant! Original! Frightening! And a new experience with every listen. 4.5/5.03

Mystikus Hugebeard: True to Sunnata’s desert prog premise, Chasing Shadows is a mirage: captivating, frustrating, and an incomplete vision of something spectacular. At sixty-two minutes long, the length will likely prove to be as controversial as it is intentional; repetition is key to Sunnata’s songwriting, as it weaves a surreal soundscape through thick, drawn-out riffs. Sometimes, it’s entrancing. Other times, I’m just bored. The more evolutionary tracks are where Chasing Shadows come to life. The off-key vocal layers and thick, fuzzy guitars are in “Chimera” and “Saviour’s Raft” take their time to progress into explosive riffs that feel earned by the buildup. Even a less progressive track like “Torn” works just by nature of how palpable the desert atmosphere is, with the chugging bass, elusive guitar lines, and hallucinatory vocals hypnotizing the listener. “Hunger” and “The Sleeper” also have a satisfying chug to them but feel emptier, with resolutions that are satisfying in the moment but still less memorable than those from earlier tracks. The worst offenders, “Wishbone” and “The Tide,” are almost completely aimless and are fully devoid of the strong atmospheric qualities that makes the rest work. The emulation of an endless trek through an endless desert is uncanny, and the aimlessness can work when paired with hypnotic songwriting like in “Torn,” but overall the lack of a meaningful destination or payoff within the already less engaging tracks only gets worse as the album drags on, and it slowly begins to drown out the parts that work well. I really love the thematic intent behind Chasing Shadows, which only makes the final result all the more frustrating that it falls short of being a truly great desert odyssey. 2.5/5.0

#2024 #AliceInChains #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #ChasingShadows #DoomMetal #Dvne #Earth #HailSpiritNoir #IndependentRelease #Kyuss #Obake #OccultRock #PolishMetal #PostMetal #PsychedelicDoomMetal #PsychedelicRock #SabbathAssembly #SelfRelease #StonerRock #Sunnata

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Brazen Tongue – Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned

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.”

What is distance but an imaginary barrier between creative minds. At least in our (over)connected modern times, proximity does not define whether minds of similar metal inclinations can interact as a band. Such is the story of Ethan Gifford and Scott Skopec (Headshrinker, ex-Polyptych), who both hustled many moons ago about Chicago with a band, Dycanis, that never quite made it beyond demo and gig grind. Gifford then moved to Sweden, and Skopec continued his musical pursuits until they too went dormant. But riffs find a way and Brazen Tongue is a result, the amalgamation of two minds who share ideas hat have tunes in the world of Gifford’s new Gothenburg home, as well as the rip and curl of American thrash (and whatever else crosses their fancy). Throughout Of Crackling Embers & Sorrows Drowned, you may hear the sullen growl of Rapture, the bright quirk of Old Man’s Child, the anthemic melting similar to an act like Black Sites. But most of all, you’ll hear the efforts of two friends who made it happen. Does it make it happen for our crack reviewing team, though? Of the opinions of cranky elitists and socialites dour, you will soon know. – Dolphin Whisperer

Brazen Tongue // Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned [June 7th, 2024]

Dr. A.N. Grier: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve contributed to a traditional Rodeö piece. So, I guess I’ll grab the debut record from international melodeath outfit Brazen Tongue. I mean, I like melodeath, so why not? Though it appears this band has been around since 2016, this year is the first time we’ve seen any output from this two-piece group. Perhaps they needed to hunt a bassist and drummer down to round out the release. I don’t know. Jumping right in, the back-to-back “The Weight of Self” and “Metaviral” kick-off Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned on a good note with some solid melodeath mood and riffage. The latter track, in particular, sees the band in its true light, delivering vocals that recall Lamb of God’s Randy Blythe and solid melodic moments on the back half. “Last Train from Myrdal” is one of the better tracks on the album as it delves deep into melodic territories, incorporating clean guitars and big, booming clean vocals. But, it avoids being one-dimensional with its alternating calmness and pissed-off attitude. What is one-dimensional is “Beneath the Broken Trees.” Only when the pace slows and the build begins does anything of value surface on the track. “The Recidivist” also suffers the same ailment, opening with an annoying introduction that finally gives way to a hard-hitting chug and powerful chorus mixed with clean and growling vocals. Unfortunately, the song has a tough time deciding when to end and drags on far too long for what it’s offering. But the closer, “The Maddening Symmetries,” is the most frustrating track on the album. Clocking in at over ten minutes, nothing sticks until we arrive at the seven-minute mark. After this point, the melodic feels hit, climbing high before ending in hopeless depression. There’s plenty to like on Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned, and there’s plenty of potential. The band’s debut isn’t perfect, but I’ll keep them on my “potential” list when their next release rolls around. 2.5/5.0

Gardenstale: Brazen Tongue is a bit weird. Much of Embers and Sorrows is so frantically kitchen-sink, I’m reminded primarily of The Offering with Insomniummy growls. That’s not necessarily a bad thing: I loved Home, and when Brazen Tongue hits, it hits with a similar spark of inspiration, as opening combo “The Weight of Self” and “Metaviral” can attest. The riffs are never quite what you expect, pressing the dynamic quality of the performers who excel at keeping you on the wrong foot. The problem for Brazen Tongue is not a lack of inspiration, but guiding it consistently into great form. The Zornheym-esque bass choirs are a cool addition, but they are used haphazardly. Emotive doom centerpiece “Last Train from Myrdal” gets more unpleasant as it goes on, adding repetition and draining the album of energy, culminating in an aggravating fire alarm riff and a sudden unceremonious end. The band tries to get things back on the rails, but the epic closer swerves through its bloated runtime without frame or direction. Brazen Tongue is full of great performances and interesting ideas, which are most effective on short, fast songs where the band can skip over the bumps, but the longer and slower tracks invariably spiral out of control or get mired in their own ideas. A songwriting class or two would do wonders. 2.5/5.0

Thus Spoke: When I hitched myself to Brazen Tongue, I’m not sure exactly what I expected; after all, according to another staff member, I “don’t even know what melodeath is.” Nonetheless, my vague anticipations were more or less on the money. Twin guitar, energetic riff clamberings, generally mid-tempo, upbeat-feeling charges, a barking sort of vocal approach. Sprinkles of melancholy in the refrains but only to precipitate a turn to more uplifting, or alternately more sinister spidery stop-starting (“The Recidivist”) or chugging. Plus, a slower, doomier track with layered, softly cascading guitars that you can immediately imagine playing over a crossfade-filled montage from a 90s movie (“Last Train from Myrdal”). If this sounds incredibly vague, and non-committal, it’s because that’s exactly how Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned comes across. Perfectly serviceable, with some great moments, but totally unmemorable. Across its duration, there are examples of brilliant, energetic axe work and righteous riffery (“Metaviral,” “Beneath the Broken Trees”), and at points, resonant feelings of pathos (yes, even in “Last Train,” which I initially despised). But there are no moments that break the surface of the soundscape’s quite monotone harmonic themes and compositional patterns. No point at which—regardless of how much sound and fury the band apparently exude (“Walking the Parapets,” “The Maddening Symmetries”)—the music elicits anything more than a “yeah, it’s cool I guess.” It’s a no from me. But what do I know about melodeath anyway? Disappointing.

Iceberg: Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned is clearly a passion project for Scott Kopec and Ethan Gifford, because logistically, producing the debut album for Brazen Tongue sounds like a complete nightmare. The main duo live seven time zones apart, all composition was done via cloud-sharing, and every instrument was tracked in its own session. This hasn’t dulled the band’s compositional abilities however; there is a glut of quality material on this album. A blend of blackened thrash and Gothenburg melodeath—with shadows of Lamb of God groove metal thrown in there—OCE&SD is an in-your-face drag racer of riffs that rarely lets off the gas. The highlight here is the creative combination of guitar riffs and leads with contrasting rhythmic underpinning; see the openings of “Walking the Parapets” and “The Recidivist.” Album standout—proper Gothenburg sadboi “Last Train From Myrdal”—shows the band knows how to blend punishing atmosphere with resplendent orchestrals, even if it runs a bit overlong. And that seems to be Brazen Tongue’s Achilles’ heel; most every song here desperately needs trimming, and the overuse of individual segments is a chronic issue. Ten-minute closer “The Maddening Symmetries” is brimming with varied, epic, blackened material, but wore this listener’s ears out well before its conclusion. One can’t help but wonder if the geographical separation of Brazen Tongue played a part in the fine-tuning issues, but I hope the band keeps at it and watches their margins more closely; the potential here is vast. 2.5/5.0

#2024 #AmericanMetal #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #BlackSites #BrazenTongue #Headshrinker #IndependentRelease #Insomnium #Jun24 #LambOfGod #MelodicDeathMetal #OldManSChild #Rapture #SelfRelease #TheOffering #ThrashMetal #Zornheym

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Brazen Tongue – Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned

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.”

What is distance but an imaginary barrier between creative minds. At least in our (over)connected modern times, proximity does not define whether minds of similar metal inclinations can interact as a band. Such is the story of Ethan Gifford and Scott Skopec (Headshrinker, ex-Polyptych), who both hustled many moons ago about Chicago with a band, Dycanis, that never quite made it beyond demo and gig grind. Gifford then moved to Sweden, and Skopec continued his musical pursuits until they too went dormant. But riffs find a way and Brazen Tongue is a result, the amalgamation of two minds who share ideas hat have tunes in the world of Gifford’s new Gothenburg home, as well as the rip and curl of American thrash (and whatever else crosses their fancy). Throughout Of Crackling Embers & Sorrows Drowned, you may hear the sullen growl of Rapture, the bright quirk of Old Man’s Child, the anthemic melting similar to an act like Black Sites. But most of all, you’ll hear the efforts of two friends who made it happen. Does it make it happen for our crack reviewing team, though? Of the opinions of cranky elitists and socialites dour, you will soon know. – Dolphin Whisperer

Brazen Tongue // Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned [June 7th, 2024]

Dr. A.N. Grier: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve contributed to a traditional Rodeö piece. So, I guess I’ll grab the debut record from international melodeath outfit Brazen Tongue. I mean, I like melodeath, so why not? Though it appears this band has been around since 2016, this year is the first time we’ve seen any output from this two-piece group. Perhaps they needed to hunt a bassist and drummer down to round out the release. I don’t know. Jumping right in, the back-to-back “The Weight of Self” and “Metaviral” kick-off Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned on a good note with some solid melodeath mood and riffage. The latter track, in particular, sees the band in its true light, delivering vocals that recall Lamb of God’s Randy Blythe and solid melodic moments on the back half. “Last Train from Myrdal” is one of the better tracks on the album as it delves deep into melodic territories, incorporating clean guitars and big, booming clean vocals. But, it avoids being one-dimensional with its alternating calmness and pissed-off attitude. What is one-dimensional is “Beneath the Broken Trees.” Only when the pace slows and the build begins does anything of value surface on the track. “The Recidivist” also suffers the same ailment, opening with an annoying introduction that finally gives way to a hard-hitting chug and powerful chorus mixed with clean and growling vocals. Unfortunately, the song has a tough time deciding when to end and drags on far too long for what it’s offering. But the closer, “The Maddening Symmetries,” is the most frustrating track on the album. Clocking in at over ten minutes, nothing sticks until we arrive at the seven-minute mark. After this point, the melodic feels hit, climbing high before ending in hopeless depression. There’s plenty to like on Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned, and there’s plenty of potential. The band’s debut isn’t perfect, but I’ll keep them on my “potential” list when their next release rolls around. 2.5/5.0

Gardenstale: Brazen Tongue is a bit weird. Much of Embers and Sorrows is so frantically kitchen-sink, I’m reminded primarily of The Offering with Insomniummy growls. That’s not necessarily a bad thing: I loved Home, and when Brazen Tongue hits, it hits with a similar spark of inspiration, as opening combo “The Weight of Self” and “Metaviral” can attest. The riffs are never quite what you expect, pressing the dynamic quality of the performers who excel at keeping you on the wrong foot. The problem for Brazen Tongue is not a lack of inspiration, but guiding it consistently into great form. The Zornheym-esque bass choirs are a cool addition, but they are used haphazardly. Emotive doom centerpiece “Last Train from Myrdal” gets more unpleasant as it goes on, adding repetition and draining the album of energy, culminating in an aggravating fire alarm riff and a sudden unceremonious end. The band tries to get things back on the rails, but the epic closer swerves through its bloated runtime without frame or direction. Brazen Tongue is full of great performances and interesting ideas, which are most effective on short, fast songs where the band can skip over the bumps, but the longer and slower tracks invariably spiral out of control or get mired in their own ideas. A songwriting class or two would do wonders. 2.5/5.0

Thus Spoke: When I hitched myself to Brazen Tongue, I’m not sure exactly what I expected; after all, according to another staff member, I “don’t even know what melodeath is.” Nonetheless, my vague anticipations were more or less on the money. Twin guitar, energetic riff clamberings, generally mid-tempo, upbeat-feeling charges, a barking sort of vocal approach. Sprinkles of melancholy in the refrains but only to precipitate a turn to more uplifting, or alternately more sinister spidery stop-starting (“The Recidivist”) or chugging. Plus, a slower, doomier track with layered, softly cascading guitars that you can immediately imagine playing over a crossfade-filled montage from a 90s movie (“Last Train from Myrdal”). If this sounds incredibly vague, and non-committal, it’s because that’s exactly how Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned comes across. Perfectly serviceable, with some great moments, but totally unmemorable. Across its duration, there are examples of brilliant, energetic axe work and righteous riffery (“Metaviral,” “Beneath the Broken Trees”), and at points, resonant feelings of pathos (yes, even in “Last Train,” which I initially despised). But there are no moments that break the surface of the soundscape’s quite monotone harmonic themes and compositional patterns. No point at which—regardless of how much sound and fury the band apparently exude (“Walking the Parapets,” “The Maddening Symmetries”)—the music elicits anything more than a “yeah, it’s cool I guess.” It’s a no from me. But what do I know about melodeath anyway? Disappointing.

Iceberg: Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned is clearly a passion project for Scott Kopec and Ethan Gifford, because logistically, producing the debut album for Brazen Tongue sounds like a complete nightmare. The main duo live seven time zones apart, all composition was done via cloud-sharing, and every instrument was tracked in its own session. This hasn’t dulled the band’s compositional abilities however; there is a glut of quality material on this album. A blend of blackened thrash and Gothenburg melodeath—with shadows of Lamb of God groove metal thrown in there—OCE&SD is an in-your-face drag racer of riffs that rarely lets off the gas. The highlight here is the creative combination of guitar riffs and leads with contrasting rhythmic underpinning; see the openings of “Walking the Parapets” and “The Recidivist.” Album standout—proper Gothenburg sadboi “Last Train From Myrdal”—shows the band knows how to blend punishing atmosphere with resplendent orchestrals, even if it runs a bit overlong. And that seems to be Brazen Tongue’s Achilles’ heel; most every song here desperately needs trimming, and the overuse of individual segments is a chronic issue. Ten-minute closer “The Maddening Symmetries” is brimming with varied, epic, blackened material, but wore this listener’s ears out well before its conclusion. One can’t help but wonder if the geographical separation of Brazen Tongue played a part in the fine-tuning issues, but I hope the band keeps at it and watches their margins more closely; the potential here is vast. 2.5/5.0

#2024 #AmericanMetal #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #BlackSites #BrazenTongue #Headshrinker #IndependentRelease #Insomnium #Jun24 #LambOfGod #MelodicDeathMetal #OldManSChild #Rapture #SelfRelease #TheOffering #ThrashMetal #Zornheym

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Veriteras – The Dark Horizon

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.”

Founded in 2018, Veriteras has a very simple mission, to produce melodeath! Hailing from the renowned hot bed of heavy, Seattle, Washington, these Scandinavian-inspired songsmiths offer their sophomore outing with the same energy from which they initially debuted—that’s to say, mostly, that there’s little in the way of frills here. But with a guest tambourine performance and production courtesy of the fabled Dan Swanö (formerly of Edge of Sanity and so much more), is there more to The Dark Horizon than meets the eye? Travel to the edge with our brave rodeö staffers and find out! – Dolphin Whisperer

Veriteras // The Dark Horizon [April 11th, 2024]

Steel Druhm: Seattle-based symphonic melodeath act Veriteras are really inspired by classic Scandinavian melodeath, especially the stuff that was released in the aughts. On their sophomore outing The Dark Horizon you’ll hear tons of influences from Kalmah, Wintersun, and Norther leaking into their energetic output. The good news is that Veriteras execute the style well, delivering high-octane cuts that sound like they’re from a different era. The bad news is the material sounds like it’s from a now stale era you’ve heard a million times. That doesn’t necessarily ruin the good times though. Tracks like opener “Certainty” blast forth like prime Kalmah with riffs flying, drums thundering, and keyboards blaring. It’s a formula that worked in 2002 and still kinda works. The best cuts either bowl you over with hyper-kinetic thrash polka (“Celestial Darkness, “Manufactured Dreams”) or soar into the night skies with epic blackened majesty à la Wintersun (“Blinding”). “Blinding” in particular is surprisingly sticky, glorious, and regal. The fact that all the songs sit in the two-to-four minute pocket while the album runs an anorexic thirty-one minutes adds to the high-speed sugar rush. The guitar work is classy, the vocals have ample bite, and the keyboards are overweening and cheese-coated. A lovely production courtesy of Dan “the fucking MAN” Swanö doesn’t hurt none either. You won’t hear anything new here, but Veriteras dish up a nostalgic blast of catchy ear-cheese with polish and pomp aplenty. Since we likely won’t be getting Time II until the very end of time, this can fill the Wintersun void some folks have in their wretched lives. 3.0/5.0

Doom et Al: Ah, melodeath. A tough sub-genre because everyone has their own idea about how much “melo” and how much “death” constitutes the ideal balance for a band. If you’re on the “I like things on the melodic end of the spectrum—gimme that Jester Race goodness!” then Seattle based band, Veriteras, and their sophomore full-length, The Dark Horizon, should be right up your alley. Delivering some old-school, hyper-melodic melodeath, this is an impressive showing, managing to sound catchy and epic without the tendency to slip into a power metal cheese vat. At its best, the album reminds us why those early melodeath bands were so popular—it’s fun, energetic and never loses momentum. Stand-outs include the jaunty “Sanctuary,” the rollickin’ “Manufactured Dreams” and my personal favorite, “Blinding.” Criticisms include a slightly monotone vocal performance, a crushed production I don’t love, and perhaps an over-reliance on an existing aesthetic. Nevertheless, this is a grand ole time and some of the more entertaining melodeath I’ve heard this year. A band with huge potential. 3.0/5.0

Dear Hollow: I’m not much of a Kalmah dweeb and I’m not the biggest melodeath fan, but the likes of Wintersun,1 In Mourning and Eternal Storm have cemented themselves into the hall of Hollow. Likewise, Veriteras creates a tasty blend of infectious earworms against a backdrop of crunchy rhythms that brings the emotion and warfare in equal measure. Rock-solid writing that puts melody first and all else second is a smart move for this, as tracks like “Certainty,” “Abyss,” and “Blinding” deal in traditional Dark Tranquillity blends of melodic runs tinged with Gothenburg sensibilities, while “Celestial Darkness” embraces the folky 6/8 waltz of Elvenking. The one-two punch of “Sanctuary” and “Manufactured Dreams” contains the most memorable riffs and absolutely infectious melodies that linger like a fever you don’t want rid of. While the vast majority of The Dark Horizon offers bulletproof melodeath, “Last Rites” and “Retrograde” fall short with frailer melodies that don’t stick, while the folky proceedings of “Celestial Darkness” are an island unto itself—all wrapped up in a production that feels a tad paper-thin and muddled (i.e. the chugs of “Light in the Darkness” feel too weak). Overall, Veriteras is fun as hell, offering melodic ear candy aplenty that’ll rot your earteeth2 if you’re not careful. 2.5/5.0

Felagund: Rightly or wrongly, I’ve grown to view most anything labeled “melodic death metal” with suspicion. While it used to be a go-to genre tag, I’ve been burned too many times by “melodeath” bands that are less At the Gates and more watered-down, uninspired metalcore boasting a few clean choruses. Thankfully, Veriteras doesn’t fall into that trap on this second full-length The Dark Horizon. They’ve delivered a solid platter, one with plenty of melodeath heft, with some blackened shrieks and symphonic elements for good measure. The Dark Horizon is indeed a satisfactory sophomore effort. Things fall flat for me, however, when the band begins to lean so heavily into the “melodic” part of “melodic death metal” that they break on through to the power metal side. I noted a faint whiff of cheese on “Celestial Darkness,” but it becomes a noticeable dairy deluge on the ironically-titled, happy-time tune “Abyss,” “Last Rights” with its power metal cleans, and “Manufactured Dreams,” which sounds like the soundtrack to your very own seafaring quest. These choices don’t make for a bad album, but it’s certainly not what I’m looking for in my narrow-minded view of modern day melodeath. I’m sure there are any number of Fellowship fans who will read this blurb and question if I actually know what power metal is. But there are various kinds of cheese, and they all don’t have to be Limburger to qualify. I’ll keep the tremelo, the chugging riffs, and the blackened vocals, but next time, I think I’ll order my Veriteras without the side of melo-mozzarella. 2.5/5.0

#2024 #AmericanMetal #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #Apr24 #DarkTranquillity #DeathMetal #Elvenking #EternalStorm #InMourning #IndependentRelease #Kalmah #MelodicDeathMetal #Norther #SelfRelease #TheDarkHorizon #Veriteras #Wintersun

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Veriteras – The Dark Horizon

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.”

Founded in 2018, Veriteras has a very simple mission, to produce melodeath! Hailing from the renowned hot bed of heavy, Seattle, Washington, these Scandinavian-inspired songsmiths offer their sophomore outing with the same energy from which they initially debuted—that’s to say, mostly, that there’s little in the way of frills here. But with a guest tambourine performance and production courtesy of the fabled Dan Swanö (formerly of Edge of Sanity and so much more), is there more to The Dark Horizon than meets the eye? Travel to the edge with our brave rodeö staffers and find out! – Dolphin Whisperer

Veriteras // The Dark Horizon [April 11th, 2024]

Steel Druhm: Seattle-based symphonic melodeath act Veriteras are really inspired by classic Scandinavian melodeath, especially the stuff that was released in the aughts. On their sophomore outing The Dark Horizon you’ll hear tons of influences from Kalmah, Wintersun, and Norther leaking into their energetic output. The good news is that Veriteras execute the style well, delivering high-octane cuts that sound like they’re from a different era. The bad news is the material sounds like it’s from a now stale era you’ve heard a million times. That doesn’t necessarily ruin the good times though. Tracks like opener “Certainty” blast forth like prime Kalmah with riffs flying, drums thundering, and keyboards blaring. It’s a formula that worked in 2002 and still kinda works. The best cuts either bowl you over with hyper-kinetic thrash polka (“Celestial Darkness, “Manufactured Dreams”) or soar into the night skies with epic blackened majesty à la Wintersun (“Blinding”). “Blinding” in particular is surprisingly sticky, glorious, and regal. The fact that all the songs sit in the two-to-four minute pocket while the album runs an anorexic thirty-one minutes adds to the high-speed sugar rush. The guitar work is classy, the vocals have ample bite, and the keyboards are overweening and cheese-coated. A lovely production courtesy of Dan “the fucking MAN” Swanö doesn’t hurt none either. You won’t hear anything new here, but Veriteras dish up a nostalgic blast of catchy ear-cheese with polish and pomp aplenty. Since we likely won’t be getting Time II until the very end of time, this can fill the Wintersun void some folks have in their wretched lives. 3.0/5.0

Doom et Al: Ah, melodeath. A tough sub-genre because everyone has their own idea about how much “melo” and how much “death” constitutes the ideal balance for a band. If you’re on the “I like things on the melodic end of the spectrum—gimme that Jester Race goodness!” then Seattle based band, Veriteras, and their sophomore full-length, The Dark Horizon, should be right up your alley. Delivering some old-school, hyper-melodic melodeath, this is an impressive showing, managing to sound catchy and epic without the tendency to slip into a power metal cheese vat. At its best, the album reminds us why those early melodeath bands were so popular—it’s fun, energetic and never loses momentum. Stand-outs include the jaunty “Sanctuary,” the rollickin’ “Manufactured Dreams” and my personal favorite, “Blinding.” Criticisms include a slightly monotone vocal performance, a crushed production I don’t love, and perhaps an over-reliance on an existing aesthetic. Nevertheless, this is a grand ole time and some of the more entertaining melodeath I’ve heard this year. A band with huge potential. 3.0/5.0

Dear Hollow: I’m not much of a Kalmah dweeb and I’m not the biggest melodeath fan, but the likes of Wintersun,1 In Mourning and Eternal Storm have cemented themselves into the hall of Hollow. Likewise, Veriteras creates a tasty blend of infectious earworms against a backdrop of crunchy rhythms that brings the emotion and warfare in equal measure. Rock-solid writing that puts melody first and all else second is a smart move for this, as tracks like “Certainty,” “Abyss,” and “Blinding” deal in traditional Dark Tranquillity blends of melodic runs tinged with Gothenburg sensibilities, while “Celestial Darkness” embraces the folky 6/8 waltz of Elvenking. The one-two punch of “Sanctuary” and “Manufactured Dreams” contains the most memorable riffs and absolutely infectious melodies that linger like a fever you don’t want rid of. While the vast majority of The Dark Horizon offers bulletproof melodeath, “Last Rites” and “Retrograde” fall short with frailer melodies that don’t stick, while the folky proceedings of “Celestial Darkness” are an island unto itself—all wrapped up in a production that feels a tad paper-thin and muddled (i.e. the chugs of “Light in the Darkness” feel too weak). Overall, Veriteras is fun as hell, offering melodic ear candy aplenty that’ll rot your earteeth2 if you’re not careful. 2.5/5.0

Felagund: Rightly or wrongly, I’ve grown to view most anything labeled “melodic death metal” with suspicion. While it used to be a go-to genre tag, I’ve been burned too many times by “melodeath” bands that are less At the Gates and more watered-down, uninspired metalcore boasting a few clean choruses. Thankfully, Veriteras doesn’t fall into that trap on this second full-length The Dark Horizon. They’ve delivered a solid platter, one with plenty of melodeath heft, with some blackened shrieks and symphonic elements for good measure. The Dark Horizon is indeed a satisfactory sophomore effort. Things fall flat for me, however, when the band begins to lean so heavily into the “melodic” part of “melodic death metal” that they break on through to the power metal side. I noted a faint whiff of cheese on “Celestial Darkness,” but it becomes a noticeable dairy deluge on the ironically-titled, happy-time tune “Abyss,” “Last Rights” with its power metal cleans, and “Manufactured Dreams,” which sounds like the soundtrack to your very own seafaring quest. These choices don’t make for a bad album, but it’s certainly not what I’m looking for in my narrow-minded view of modern day melodeath. I’m sure there are any number of Fellowship fans who will read this blurb and question if I actually know what power metal is. But there are various kinds of cheese, and they all don’t have to be Limburger to qualify. I’ll keep the tremelo, the chugging riffs, and the blackened vocals, but next time, I think I’ll order my Veriteras without the side of melo-mozzarella. 2.5/5.0

#2024 #AmericanMetal #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #Apr24 #DarkTranquillity #DeathMetal #Elvenking #EternalStorm #InMourning #IndependentRelease #Kalmah #MelodicDeathMetal #Norther #SelfRelease #TheDarkHorizon #Veriteras #Wintersun

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Veriteras – The Dark Horizon

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.”

Founded in 2018, Veriteras has a very simple mission, to produce melodeath! Hailing from the renowned hot bed of heavy, Seattle, Washington, these Scandinavian-inspired songsmiths offer their sophomore outing with the same energy from which they initially debuted—that’s to say, mostly, that there’s little in the way of frills here. But with a guest tambourine performance and production courtesy of the fabled Dan Swanö (formerly of Edge of Sanity and so much more), is there more to The Dark Horizon than meets the eye? Travel to the edge with our brave rodeö staffers and find out! – Dolphin Whisperer

Veriteras // The Dark Horizon [April 11th, 2024]

Steel Druhm: Seattle-based symphonic melodeath act Veriteras are really inspired by classic Scandinavian melodeath, especially the stuff that was released in the aughts. On their sophomore outing The Dark Horizon you’ll hear tons of influences from Kalmah, Wintersun, and Norther leaking into their energetic output. The good news is that Veriteras execute the style well, delivering high-octane cuts that sound like they’re from a different era. The bad news is the material sounds like it’s from a now stale era you’ve heard a million times. That doesn’t necessarily ruin the good times though. Tracks like opener “Certainty” blast forth like prime Kalmah with riffs flying, drums thundering, and keyboards blaring. It’s a formula that worked in 2002 and still kinda works. The best cuts either bowl you over with hyper-kinetic thrash polka (“Celestial Darkness, “Manufactured Dreams”) or soar into the night skies with epic blackened majesty à la Wintersun (“Blinding”). “Blinding” in particular is surprisingly sticky, glorious, and regal. The fact that all the songs sit in the two-to-four minute pocket while the album runs an anorexic thirty-one minutes adds to the high-speed sugar rush. The guitar work is classy, the vocals have ample bite, and the keyboards are overweening and cheese-coated. A lovely production courtesy of Dan “the fucking MAN” Swanö doesn’t hurt none either. You won’t hear anything new here, but Veriteras dish up a nostalgic blast of catchy ear-cheese with polish and pomp aplenty. Since we likely won’t be getting Time II until the very end of time, this can fill the Wintersun void some folks have in their wretched lives. 3.0/5.0

Doom et Al: Ah, melodeath. A tough sub-genre because everyone has their own idea about how much “melo” and how much “death” constitutes the ideal balance for a band. If you’re on the “I like things on the melodic end of the spectrum—gimme that Jester Race goodness!” then Seattle based band, Veriteras, and their sophomore full-length, The Dark Horizon, should be right up your alley. Delivering some old-school, hyper-melodic melodeath, this is an impressive showing, managing to sound catchy and epic without the tendency to slip into a power metal cheese vat. At its best, the album reminds us why those early melodeath bands were so popular—it’s fun, energetic and never loses momentum. Stand-outs include the jaunty “Sanctuary,” the rollickin’ “Manufactured Dreams” and my personal favorite, “Blinding.” Criticisms include a slightly monotone vocal performance, a crushed production I don’t love, and perhaps an over-reliance on an existing aesthetic. Nevertheless, this is a grand ole time and some of the more entertaining melodeath I’ve heard this year. A band with huge potential. 3.0/5.0

Dear Hollow: I’m not much of a Kalmah dweeb and I’m not the biggest melodeath fan, but the likes of Wintersun,1 In Mourning and Eternal Storm have cemented themselves into the hall of Hollow. Likewise, Veriteras creates a tasty blend of infectious earworms against a backdrop of crunchy rhythms that brings the emotion and warfare in equal measure. Rock-solid writing that puts melody first and all else second is a smart move for this, as tracks like “Certainty,” “Abyss,” and “Blinding” deal in traditional Dark Tranquillity blends of melodic runs tinged with Gothenburg sensibilities, while “Celestial Darkness” embraces the folky 6/8 waltz of Elvenking. The one-two punch of “Sanctuary” and “Manufactured Dreams” contains the most memorable riffs and absolutely infectious melodies that linger like a fever you don’t want rid of. While the vast majority of The Dark Horizon offers bulletproof melodeath, “Last Rites” and “Retrograde” fall short with frailer melodies that don’t stick, while the folky proceedings of “Celestial Darkness” are an island unto itself—all wrapped up in a production that feels a tad paper-thin and muddled (i.e. the chugs of “Light in the Darkness” feel too weak). Overall, Veriteras is fun as hell, offering melodic ear candy aplenty that’ll rot your earteeth2 if you’re not careful. 2.5/5.0

Felagund: Rightly or wrongly, I’ve grown to view most anything labeled “melodic death metal” with suspicion. While it used to be a go-to genre tag, I’ve been burned too many times by “melodeath” bands that are less At the Gates and more watered-down, uninspired metalcore boasting a few clean choruses. Thankfully, Veriteras doesn’t fall into that trap on this second full-length The Dark Horizon. They’ve delivered a solid platter, one with plenty of melodeath heft, with some blackened shrieks and symphonic elements for good measure. The Dark Horizon is indeed a satisfactory sophomore effort. Things fall flat for me, however, when the band begins to lean so heavily into the “melodic” part of “melodic death metal” that they break on through to the power metal side. I noted a faint whiff of cheese on “Celestial Darkness,” but it becomes a noticeable dairy deluge on the ironically-titled, happy-time tune “Abyss,” “Last Rights” with its power metal cleans, and “Manufactured Dreams,” which sounds like the soundtrack to your very own seafaring quest. These choices don’t make for a bad album, but it’s certainly not what I’m looking for in my narrow-minded view of modern day melodeath. I’m sure there are any number of Fellowship fans who will read this blurb and question if I actually know what power metal is. But there are various kinds of cheese, and they all don’t have to be Limburger to qualify. I’ll keep the tremelo, the chugging riffs, and the blackened vocals, but next time, I think I’ll order my Veriteras without the side of melo-mozzarella. 2.5/5.0

#2024 #AmericanMetal #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #Apr24 #DarkTranquillity #DeathMetal #Elvenking #EternalStorm #InMourning #IndependentRelease #Kalmah #MelodicDeathMetal #Norther #SelfRelease #TheDarkHorizon #Veriteras #Wintersun

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Save This Utility – 亡失 Deprivation

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.”

New year, same ol’ Rodeö! As the inaugural unknown-spankin’ event of 2024, we shall take a moment to recognize the bands who put up the best fight in this unforgiving clown show. Texas doomsters Slumbering Sun may not have snagged first, but they did end up listing, a rare honor in these halls! However, despite that one enthusiastic supporter, Greek proglodytes Conspiracy of Zero stole the show with higher consistency in their Quo Vadis meets Cynic with a regional flair outing Ahthos Arouris. Haven’t checked it yet? Lucky you, now’s as good a time as ever!

But for our main course today, we have something different—something admittedly far more weird and avant-garde leaning. Perhaps if you’re familiar with the brand of brutal prog interwoven with experimental death metal and tasteful lounge jazz passages that unheralded Japanese act 五人一首 [Gonin-ish] pushes, you might feel a little at home with SAVE THIS UTILITY. This fledgling Kyoto-based troupe, though, seems to have their own inspirations, with a bassist whose seven-string prowess explores dutifully the realm of poppy Idol music and a guitarist who moonlights as a pumping rawstyle DJ. You might be wondering what this all adds up to in the context of a website that allegedly reviews metal. Well, read on if you dare. 亡失 Deprivation might just surprise you. – Dolphin Whisperer

SAVE THIS UTILITY // 亡失 Deprivation [February 5th, 2024]

El Cuervo: Save This Utility is about what you would expect from a Japanese band self-describing as avant-garde: weird as fuck. Deprivation pulls together unusual influences into an unexpected and unfamiliar release. While the unpredictable song structures and varying time signatures are pure prog, the guitar leads have a crunch and angularity drawn from mathcore. Likewise, the deathly roars lend things an extremer metal fringe, while the production has a clinical edge that tonally (if not musically) recalls industrial. And plenty of piano and synths paper over the cracks of the frantic song-writing. Inventive musical ideas are scattered throughout but the spectrum of sounds amalgamated is too wide for a cohesive, purposeful release; even for a novelty EP that only runs for a shade over thirty minutes. Similarly, those individual moments are fleeting and not constructed into compelling songs. As inventive and unexpected as everything is, I’m not left with an over-arching sense of the substance of this release. Can I recall a particular track? A particular riff? A particular melody? A particular emotion (other than bafflement)? The answer to each is no. Deprivation prizes style over substance, which leaves little to compel repeated listens. It does a lot, but doesn’t say a lot. 1.5/5.0

GardensTale: I tried, okay? I really, really tried. Iceberg waxed lyrically about this utterly confounding blob of free form jazz death so much, I felt like there had to be something there. I clawed my way through spin after spin of clashing melodies, weird throaty shouting, riffs going the wrong way, piano flourishes in random spots, repetition where you don’t expect it, the repetition stopping when you expect it to go on, a variety of synthy sounds inserted sideways and unlubed, and I can now say at my most confident that this really is not for me. I have an upper limit of jazz, and this is too much jazz. I recognize the talent of the musicians, and there is a certain dissonant allure to the weird bendy noises coming out of my speakers. But I can’t say I enjoy listening to the whole thing in one sitting. This is one you’re going to have to try for yourself; my score and my recommendation are going to be as useless as a review of the taste of grass, and only you can decide whether you’re a herbivore or not. 2.5/5.0

Dolphin Whisperer: Every now and then you stumble upon a piece of music that is as original as it also is a smart integration of various influences. 亡失 Deprivation somewhat mystified me at first but as I continued to dig through its layers of rich piano and synth melodies, understated but hypnotic rhythms, frolicking and popping bass runs, and marathon harmonic resolutions, I started to understand SAVE THIS UTILITY as the music-lovers they likely are. The peaceful yet powerful crescendo builds that these longer-form songs prance toward remind my ears of various Japanese math rock/post rock hybrid groups, like jizue or mouse on the keys. But also the kind of oscillating synth work from resonant patches, that imitate sounds similar to a vibraphone or a Rhodes piano, cross about soaring and searing guitar leads in a big prog Gonin-ish fashion. Even further these qualities intensify as SAVE THIS UTILITY ascends to clashing, warbling vocal harmonies that burst against bright instrumental peaks in an epic, whimsical tryst. On their previous debut full-length, some of these builds arose in a more melodeath-like fashion, with the harsh-clean trades feeling akin to late, experimental Dir en Grey work. And the synth composition felt incidental and circus-y—wacky video game music, perhaps. While this new EP still hosts an ominous growl against tension building chords, that death presence has grown from intrusion to atmosphere, which helps the hard-to-connect dots of each track’s individual pieces come together as a dream-like whole peaking in the fifteen minute closer “網目 Web.” And, as such, SAVE THIS UTILITY not only continues to command the tag ‘interesting’ but also ‘captivating.’ 亡失 Deprivation isn’t perfect by any means, but that wouldn’t be any fun now would it? 3.5/5.0

Iceberg: You remember that scene in the old Willy Wonka (1971) with all the psychedelic visuals where Gene Wilder keeps shouting “the danger must be growing?” SAVE THIS UTILITY’s EP Deprivation takes me right back to that sequence; terror and wonder, all wrapped up in a bad trip. If you can imagine a witches brew of The Mars Volta-flavored mathcore, Schoenbergian atonality, Sketches of Spain-era Miles Davis, and the instrumental noodling of Frank Zappa you might begin to get an idea of the world on display here. This amalgam of genres should be a jumbled mess—and I imagine many will think it is—but if you duck beneath the sound and fury there’s masterful structure and skill to be found. The tension of cluster chords1 and disjointed ostinati given release by crystalline synths in “Hollow,” the end of “Abandonment” draining melodic material into a horrifying black hole of noise and aleatoric rhythms; there’s magic written all over this album. All roads lead to the whopping 15 minute closer “Web,” a tour-de-force in long form writing that leaves me in awe every time I revisit it. This track wields dissonance and consonance like weapons, tearing apart traditional structure and tonality at will, only to piece it back together by it’s close. The only thing that bothers me here is a slightly muddled mix, but it hardly matters with this level of musical material. Fans of challenging and grotesque music should absolutely give SAVE THIS UTILITY a shot: this band is destined for great things. 4.0/5.0

Mystikus Hugebeard: 亡失 Deprivation, the newest album by Japanese avant-garde progressive metal act SAVE THIS UTILITY, is my initiation into the AMG Rodeö, and completely broke my brain the first few listens. At its core, 亡失 Deprivation is an album of complex, gritty textures, a jarring arrangement of music that falls into the “love it or hate it” category. The more transitory passages are the most fascinating to my ears; there are some compelling soundscapes to be found within the tense, dissonant guitars of “廃祀 Abandonment,” or the Glass Hammer-esque keyboard noodling and jazz pianos of “網目 Web.” My enjoyment breaks as the music grows heavier, and exponentially more chaotic. The zig-zag of the guitars is incongruous with the rhythm offered by the drums and the vocals, which alternate between brutal-death gurgles and shrieks. To the album’s credit, the conflicting layers of sound create a curious and novel musical texture that I would liken to sandpaper, but it becomes ear melting during the keyboards’ fire-alarm shrieking above the already cluttered heavy parts of “廃祀 Abandonment.” 亡失 Deprivation does have a nifty puzzle-box quality to it that I imagine some will enjoy picking apart and unraveling, but overall I find it just a little too obtuse to emotionally engage with. 2.5/5.0

#2024 #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #ArnoldSchoenberg #AvantGardeMetal #Deprivation #DirEnGrey #Feb24 #FrankZappa #GlassHammer #GoninIsh #JapaneseMetal #JazzFusion #jizue #MathRock #MilesDavis #mouseOnTheKeys #PostRock #ProgressiveMetal #SaveThisUtility #TheMarsVolta #WillyWonka #五人一首

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Save This Utility – 亡失 Deprivation

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.”

New year, same ol’ Rodeö! As the inaugural unknown-spankin’ event of 2024, we shall take a moment to recognize the bands who put up the best fight in this unforgiving clown show. Texas doomsters Slumbering Sun may not have snagged first, but they did end up listing, a rare honor in these halls! However, despite that one enthusiastic supporter, Greek proglodytes Conspiracy of Zero stole the show with higher consistency in their Quo Vadis meets Cynic with a regional flair outing Ahthos Arouris. Haven’t checked it yet? Lucky you, now’s as good a time as ever!

But for our main course today, we have something different—something admittedly far more weird and avant-garde leaning. Perhaps if you’re familiar with the brand of brutal prog interwoven with experimental death metal and tasteful lounge jazz passages that unheralded Japanese act 五人一首 [Gonin-ish] pushes, you might feel a little at home with SAVE THIS UTILITY. This fledgling Kyoto-based troupe, though, seems to have their own inspirations, with a bassist whose seven-string prowess explores dutifully the realm of poppy Idol music and a guitarist who moonlights as a pumping rawstyle DJ. You might be wondering what this all adds up to in the context of a website that allegedly reviews metal. Well, read on if you dare. 亡失 Deprivation might just surprise you. – Dolphin Whisperer

SAVE THIS UTILITY // 亡失 Deprivation [February 5th, 2024]

El Cuervo: Save This Utility is about what you would expect from a Japanese band self-describing as avant-garde: weird as fuck. Deprivation pulls together unusual influences into an unexpected and unfamiliar release. While the unpredictable song structures and varying time signatures are pure prog, the guitar leads have a crunch and angularity drawn from mathcore. Likewise, the deathly roars lend things an extremer metal fringe, while the production has a clinical edge that tonally (if not musically) recalls industrial. And plenty of piano and synths paper over the cracks of the frantic song-writing. Inventive musical ideas are scattered throughout but the spectrum of sounds amalgamated is too wide for a cohesive, purposeful release; even for a novelty EP that only runs for a shade over thirty minutes. Similarly, those individual moments are fleeting and not constructed into compelling songs. As inventive and unexpected as everything is, I’m not left with an over-arching sense of the substance of this release. Can I recall a particular track? A particular riff? A particular melody? A particular emotion (other than bafflement)? The answer to each is no. Deprivation prizes style over substance, which leaves little to compel repeated listens. It does a lot, but doesn’t say a lot. 1.5/5.0

GardensTale: I tried, okay? I really, really tried. Iceberg waxed lyrically about this utterly confounding blob of free form jazz death so much, I felt like there had to be something there. I clawed my way through spin after spin of clashing melodies, weird throaty shouting, riffs going the wrong way, piano flourishes in random spots, repetition where you don’t expect it, the repetition stopping when you expect it to go on, a variety of synthy sounds inserted sideways and unlubed, and I can now say at my most confident that this really is not for me. I have an upper limit of jazz, and this is too much jazz. I recognize the talent of the musicians, and there is a certain dissonant allure to the weird bendy noises coming out of my speakers. But I can’t say I enjoy listening to the whole thing in one sitting. This is one you’re going to have to try for yourself; my score and my recommendation are going to be as useless as a review of the taste of grass, and only you can decide whether you’re a herbivore or not. 2.5/5.0

Dolphin Whisperer: Every now and then you stumble upon a piece of music that is as original as it also is a smart integration of various influences. 亡失 Deprivation somewhat mystified me at first but as I continued to dig through its layers of rich piano and synth melodies, understated but hypnotic rhythms, frolicking and popping bass runs, and marathon harmonic resolutions, I started to understand SAVE THIS UTILITY as the music-lovers they likely are. The peaceful yet powerful crescendo builds that these longer-form songs prance toward remind my ears of various Japanese math rock/post rock hybrid groups, like jizue or mouse on the keys. But also the kind of oscillating synth work from resonant patches, that imitate sounds similar to a vibraphone or a Rhodes piano, cross about soaring and searing guitar leads in a big prog Gonin-ish fashion. Even further these qualities intensify as SAVE THIS UTILITY ascends to clashing, warbling vocal harmonies that burst against bright instrumental peaks in an epic, whimsical tryst. On their previous debut full-length, some of these builds arose in a more melodeath-like fashion, with the harsh-clean trades feeling akin to late, experimental Dir en Grey work. And the synth composition felt incidental and circus-y—wacky video game music, perhaps. While this new EP still hosts an ominous growl against tension building chords, that death presence has grown from intrusion to atmosphere, which helps the hard-to-connect dots of each track’s individual pieces come together as a dream-like whole peaking in the fifteen minute closer “網目 Web.” And, as such, SAVE THIS UTILITY not only continues to command the tag ‘interesting’ but also ‘captivating.’ 亡失 Deprivation isn’t perfect by any means, but that wouldn’t be any fun now would it? 3.5/5.0

Iceberg: You remember that scene in the old Willy Wonka (1971) with all the psychedelic visuals where Gene Wilder keeps shouting “the danger must be growing?” SAVE THIS UTILITY’s EP Deprivation takes me right back to that sequence; terror and wonder, all wrapped up in a bad trip. If you can imagine a witches brew of The Mars Volta-flavored mathcore, Schoenbergian atonality, Sketches of Spain-era Miles Davis, and the instrumental noodling of Frank Zappa you might begin to get an idea of the world on display here. This amalgam of genres should be a jumbled mess—and I imagine many will think it is—but if you duck beneath the sound and fury there’s masterful structure and skill to be found. The tension of cluster chords1 and disjointed ostinati given release by crystalline synths in “Hollow,” the end of “Abandonment” draining melodic material into a horrifying black hole of noise and aleatoric rhythms; there’s magic written all over this album. All roads lead to the whopping 15 minute closer “Web,” a tour-de-force in long form writing that leaves me in awe every time I revisit it. This track wields dissonance and consonance like weapons, tearing apart traditional structure and tonality at will, only to piece it back together by it’s close. The only thing that bothers me here is a slightly muddled mix, but it hardly matters with this level of musical material. Fans of challenging and grotesque music should absolutely give SAVE THIS UTILITY a shot: this band is destined for great things. 4.0/5.0

Mystikus Hugebeard: 亡失 Deprivation, the newest album by Japanese avant-garde progressive metal act SAVE THIS UTILITY, is my initiation into the AMG Rodeö, and completely broke my brain the first few listens. At its core, 亡失 Deprivation is an album of complex, gritty textures, a jarring arrangement of music that falls into the “love it or hate it” category. The more transitory passages are the most fascinating to my ears; there are some compelling soundscapes to be found within the tense, dissonant guitars of “廃祀 Abandonment,” or the Glass Hammer-esque keyboard noodling and jazz pianos of “網目 Web.” My enjoyment breaks as the music grows heavier, and exponentially more chaotic. The zig-zag of the guitars is incongruous with the rhythm offered by the drums and the vocals, which alternate between brutal-death gurgles and shrieks. To the album’s credit, the conflicting layers of sound create a curious and novel musical texture that I would liken to sandpaper, but it becomes ear melting during the keyboards’ fire-alarm shrieking above the already cluttered heavy parts of “廃祀 Abandonment.” 亡失 Deprivation does have a nifty puzzle-box quality to it that I imagine some will enjoy picking apart and unraveling, but overall I find it just a little too obtuse to emotionally engage with. 2.5/5.0

#2024 #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #ArnoldSchoenberg #AvantGardeMetal #Deprivation #DirEnGrey #Feb24 #FrankZappa #GlassHammer #GoninIsh #JapaneseMetal #JazzFusion #jizue #MathRock #MilesDavis #mouseOnTheKeys #PostRock #ProgressiveMetal #SaveThisUtility #TheMarsVolta #WillyWonka #五人一首

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Save This Utility – 亡失 Deprivation

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.”

New year, same ol’ Rodeö! As the inaugural unknown-spankin’ event of 2024, we shall take a moment to recognize the bands who put up the best fight in this unforgiving clown show. Texas doomsters Slumbering Sun may not have snagged first, but they did end up listing, a rare honor in these halls! However, despite that one enthusiastic supporter, Greek proglodytes Conspiracy of Zero stole the show with higher consistency in their Quo Vadis meets Cynic with a regional flair outing Ahthos Arouris. Haven’t checked it yet? Lucky you, now’s as good a time as ever!

But for our main course today, we have something different—something admittedly far more weird and avant-garde leaning. Perhaps if you’re familiar with the brand of brutal prog interwoven with experimental death metal and tasteful lounge jazz passages that unheralded Japanese act 五人一首 [Gonin-ish] pushes, you might feel a little at home with SAVE THIS UTILITY. This fledgling Kyoto-based troupe, though, seems to have their own inspirations, with a bassist whose seven-string prowess explores dutifully the realm of poppy Idol music and a guitarist who moonlights as a pumping rawstyle DJ. You might be wondering what this all adds up to in the context of a website that allegedly reviews metal. Well, read on if you dare. 亡失 Deprivation might just surprise you. – Dolphin Whisperer

SAVE THIS UTILITY // 亡失 Deprivation [February 5th, 2024]

El Cuervo: Save This Utility is about what you would expect from a Japanese band self-describing as avant-garde: weird as fuck. Deprivation pulls together unusual influences into an unexpected and unfamiliar release. While the unpredictable song structures and varying time signatures are pure prog, the guitar leads have a crunch and angularity drawn from mathcore. Likewise, the deathly roars lend things an extremer metal fringe, while the production has a clinical edge that tonally (if not musically) recalls industrial. And plenty of piano and synths paper over the cracks of the frantic song-writing. Inventive musical ideas are scattered throughout but the spectrum of sounds amalgamated is too wide for a cohesive, purposeful release; even for a novelty EP that only runs for a shade over thirty minutes. Similarly, those individual moments are fleeting and not constructed into compelling songs. As inventive and unexpected as everything is, I’m not left with an over-arching sense of the substance of this release. Can I recall a particular track? A particular riff? A particular melody? A particular emotion (other than bafflement)? The answer to each is no. Deprivation prizes style over substance, which leaves little to compel repeated listens. It does a lot, but doesn’t say a lot. 1.5/5.0

GardensTale: I tried, okay? I really, really tried. Iceberg waxed lyrically about this utterly confounding blob of free form jazz death so much, I felt like there had to be something there. I clawed my way through spin after spin of clashing melodies, weird throaty shouting, riffs going the wrong way, piano flourishes in random spots, repetition where you don’t expect it, the repetition stopping when you expect it to go on, a variety of synthy sounds inserted sideways and unlubed, and I can now say at my most confident that this really is not for me. I have an upper limit of jazz, and this is too much jazz. I recognize the talent of the musicians, and there is a certain dissonant allure to the weird bendy noises coming out of my speakers. But I can’t say I enjoy listening to the whole thing in one sitting. This is one you’re going to have to try for yourself; my score and my recommendation are going to be as useless as a review of the taste of grass, and only you can decide whether you’re a herbivore or not. 2.5/5.0

Dolphin Whisperer: Every now and then you stumble upon a piece of music that is as original as it also is a smart integration of various influences. 亡失 Deprivation somewhat mystified me at first but as I continued to dig through its layers of rich piano and synth melodies, understated but hypnotic rhythms, frolicking and popping bass runs, and marathon harmonic resolutions, I started to understand SAVE THIS UTILITY as the music-lovers they likely are. The peaceful yet powerful crescendo builds that these longer-form songs prance toward remind my ears of various Japanese math rock/post rock hybrid groups, like jizue or mouse on the keys. But also the kind of oscillating synth work from resonant patches, that imitate sounds similar to a vibraphone or a Rhodes piano, cross about soaring and searing guitar leads in a big prog Gonin-ish fashion. Even further these qualities intensify as SAVE THIS UTILITY ascends to clashing, warbling vocal harmonies that burst against bright instrumental peaks in an epic, whimsical tryst. On their previous debut full-length, some of these builds arose in a more melodeath-like fashion, with the harsh-clean trades feeling akin to late, experimental Dir en Grey work. And the synth composition felt incidental and circus-y—wacky video game music, perhaps. While this new EP still hosts an ominous growl against tension building chords, that death presence has grown from intrusion to atmosphere, which helps the hard-to-connect dots of each track’s individual pieces come together as a dream-like whole peaking in the fifteen minute closer “網目 Web.” And, as such, SAVE THIS UTILITY not only continues to command the tag ‘interesting’ but also ‘captivating.’ 亡失 Deprivation isn’t perfect by any means, but that wouldn’t be any fun now would it? 3.5/5.0

Iceberg: You remember that scene in the old Willy Wonka (1971) with all the psychedelic visuals where Gene Wilder keeps shouting “the danger must be growing?” SAVE THIS UTILITY’s EP Deprivation takes me right back to that sequence; terror and wonder, all wrapped up in a bad trip. If you can imagine a witches brew of The Mars Volta-flavored mathcore, Schoenbergian atonality, Sketches of Spain-era Miles Davis, and the instrumental noodling of Frank Zappa you might begin to get an idea of the world on display here. This amalgam of genres should be a jumbled mess—and I imagine many will think it is—but if you duck beneath the sound and fury there’s masterful structure and skill to be found. The tension of cluster chords1 and disjointed ostinati given release by crystalline synths in “Hollow,” the end of “Abandonment” draining melodic material into a horrifying black hole of noise and aleatoric rhythms; there’s magic written all over this album. All roads lead to the whopping 15 minute closer “Web,” a tour-de-force in long form writing that leaves me in awe every time I revisit it. This track wields dissonance and consonance like weapons, tearing apart traditional structure and tonality at will, only to piece it back together by it’s close. The only thing that bothers me here is a slightly muddled mix, but it hardly matters with this level of musical material. Fans of challenging and grotesque music should absolutely give SAVE THIS UTILITY a shot: this band is destined for great things. 4.0/5.0

Mystikus Hugebeard: 亡失 Deprivation, the newest album by Japanese avant-garde progressive metal act SAVE THIS UTILITY, is my initiation into the AMG Rodeö, and completely broke my brain the first few listens. At its core, 亡失 Deprivation is an album of complex, gritty textures, a jarring arrangement of music that falls into the “love it or hate it” category. The more transitory passages are the most fascinating to my ears; there are some compelling soundscapes to be found within the tense, dissonant guitars of “廃祀 Abandonment,” or the Glass Hammer-esque keyboard noodling and jazz pianos of “網目 Web.” My enjoyment breaks as the music grows heavier, and exponentially more chaotic. The zig-zag of the guitars is incongruous with the rhythm offered by the drums and the vocals, which alternate between brutal-death gurgles and shrieks. To the album’s credit, the conflicting layers of sound create a curious and novel musical texture that I would liken to sandpaper, but it becomes ear melting during the keyboards’ fire-alarm shrieking above the already cluttered heavy parts of “廃祀 Abandonment.” 亡失 Deprivation does have a nifty puzzle-box quality to it that I imagine some will enjoy picking apart and unraveling, but overall I find it just a little too obtuse to emotionally engage with. 2.5/5.0

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