#apr25 — Public Fediverse posts

Record(s) o’ the Month – April 2025

By Angry Metal Guy

“April is the cruellest month,” wrote T.S. Eliot in a poem that no one quoting it has ever finished reading.1 And while Eliot was quite metal in his exquisite, existential despair about WWI or whatever, he never understood true existential dread. I speak, of course, of the dread of being force-fed twenty-five promising albums, half of which are drenched in so much reverb that you feel like you’re swimming, only to realize that you didn’t even review the Record o’ the Month yourself. Regardless, this April continued to be cruel. But this cruelty came bearing bloodied knuckles and a furrowed (and noticably pronounced) brow. Dormant Ordeal took that energy and weaponized it.

It’s not every month that a death metal album crawls out of the woodwork and shatters the Score Safety Counter like a warhammer through a piñata, but Dormant Ordeal—whose new record Tooth and Nail dropped April 18th, 2025, from Willowtip Records [Bandcamp]—did exactly that. Tooth and Nail is a masterclass in (blackened) death metal—”the classic Polish death metal sound”—done right. It’s taut, unreleating, melodic when it counts, and angrier than Angry Metal Guy when reminded of the existence of Disqus. This record hits a sweet spot inside of me best described as the “oh yeah, that’s how death metal is done” spot. The riffs flow, and my brain just opens up the spigots, releasing a veritable tsunami of dopamine. Every riff that cuts, every transition that seethes, and every recognition of the slick, skilled ways that these guys construct songs, I get a nice big kick of that Happy Chemical. Tooth and Nail is dynamic, punishing, aggressive, and better yet, it’s smart. Dormant Ordeal is like a boxer who knows exactly when to drop his guard and knock you out.2 Our very own Tyme was so excited he penned an overwrought review of Angry Metal Guyan proportions. In one of his more uncontainable moments of verbal climax, he ejaculated: “Tooth and Nail represents the absolute best of what Dormant Ordeal can be.” The rest of us wiped down the walls and nodded in agreement. And I, being an instantiation of the will of the staff through my very existence, elected it to be Record o’ the Month.

Runner(s) Up:

Structure // Heritage [April 25th, 2025 | Ardua Music | Bandcamp] — “Solo” doom project Structure did a thing that I never thought possible. It made Steel Druhm feel about a Dutch doom metal project like I felt about The 11th Hour. Oh, also, it crushed our collective will to live in the most painful way possible. A labor of love from Bram Bijlhout of Officium Triste, Heritage is crushing, exquisite, and dramatic in all the right ways. Pim Blankenstein’s vocal contributions take this funeral doom lament to operatic heights. Steel Druhm, while shotgunning his seventh doppelbock, enthusiastically spilled his beer all over the bar while trying to emphasize for everyone slightly louder than necessary that Structure has written “a monumental doom epic that caves in your chest with its raw power and brings a tear to the most jaded eye with its heartwrenching beauty!” He even gave it a 4.5, which is 5.0 in Steel Druhmese. And if none of that convinces you, I, too, concede that this is a great record and I suspect it’s going to be quite present during Listurnalia.

Messa // The Spin [April 11th, 2025 | Metal Blade Records | Bandcamp] — The reason I started doing three, or sometimes four, releases for Record(s) o’ the Month was because there were times when it was just impossible to choose. This month is actually kind of cruel in that all three of these could have been Record o’ the Month without question. Italian doom-jazz mystics Messa put up a good fight with their most seductive release yet. The Spin sheds the sprawl of Close in favor of tighter, moodier bangers. For my part, this is as good as I think they’ve ever sounded. Sharky Shark Boy was right when he said that “Sara’s smouldering, siren-like vocals have hit a whole new level,” lending the compositions a power I don’t remember Messa having. The Spin is doom with eyeliner and a degree in art history—classy, smokey, and ready to crush you with riffs and moody quotes from a Frenchman. While Messa has always had some appeal, there’s something about The Spin that works differently. It’s not like they’re a new band with a new sound, but instead, to quote Sharky Shark Boy, “Rather like using a velvetizer to make your hot chocolate. It’s still hot chocolate. But it’s thicker, richer, and, well, velvet-ier.” Yeah, I think that analogy pretty much says it all. No? Fine, The Dolphin Half of the Aquatic Duo chirped and bobbed overexcitedly: “Music this powerful stands ready to inspire binge listening, tone envy, and, with any luck, another generation hopelessly addicted to six strings screaming at unadvisable volumes.” And that seems like the final word on the matter.

#2025 #Apr25 #DormantOrdeal #Heritage #Messa #OfficiumTriste #RecordSOTheMonth #RecordsOfTheMonth #Structure #The11thHour #TheSpin #ToothAndNail

Record(s) o’ the Month – April 2025

By Angry Metal Guy

“April is the cruellest month,” wrote T.S. Eliot in a poem that no one quoting it has ever finished reading.1 And while Eliot was quite metal in his exquisite, existential despair about WWI or whatever, he never understood true existential dread. I speak, of course, of the dread of being force-fed twenty-five promising albums, half of which are drenched in so much reverb that you feel like you’re swimming, only to realize that you didn’t even review the Record o’ the Month yourself. Regardless, this April continued to be cruel. But this cruelty came bearing bloodied knuckles and a furrowed (and noticably pronounced) brow. Dormant Ordeal took that energy and weaponized it.

It’s not every month that a death metal album crawls out of the woodwork and shatters the Score Safety Counter like a warhammer through a piñata, but Dormant Ordeal—whose new record Tooth and Nail dropped April 18th, 2025, from Willowtip Records [Bandcamp]—did exactly that. Tooth and Nail is a masterclass in (blackened) death metal—”the classic Polish death metal sound”—done right. It’s taut, unreleating, melodic when it counts, and angrier than Angry Metal Guy when reminded of the existence of Disqus. This record hits a sweet spot inside of me best described as the “oh yeah, that’s how death metal is done” spot. The riffs flow, and my brain just opens up the spigots, releasing a veritable tsunami of dopamine. Every riff that cuts, every transition that seethes, and every recognition of the slick, skilled ways that these guys construct songs, I get a nice big kick of that Happy Chemical. Tooth and Nail is dynamic, punishing, aggressive, and better yet, it’s smart. Dormant Ordeal is like a boxer who knows exactly when to drop his guard and knock you out.2 Our very own Tyme was so excited he penned an overwrought review of Angry Metal Guyan proportions. In one of his more uncontainable moments of verbal climax, he ejaculated: “Tooth and Nail represents the absolute best of what Dormant Ordeal can be.” The rest of us wiped down the walls and nodded in agreement. And I, being an instantiation of the will of the staff through my very existence, elected it to be Record o’ the Month.

Runner(s) Up:

Structure // Heritage [April 25th, 2025 | Ardua Music | Bandcamp] — “Solo” doom project Structure did a thing that I never thought possible. It made Steel Druhm feel about a Dutch doom metal project like I felt about The 11th Hour. Oh, also, it crushed our collective will to live in the most painful way possible. A labor of love from Bram Bijlhout of Officium Triste, Heritage is crushing, exquisite, and dramatic in all the right ways. Pim Blankenstein’s vocal contributions take this funeral doom lament to operatic heights. Steel Druhm, while shotgunning his seventh doppelbock, enthusiastically spilled his beer all over the bar while trying to emphasize for everyone slightly louder than necessary that Structure has written “a monumental doom epic that caves in your chest with its raw power and brings a tear to the most jaded eye with its heartwrenching beauty!” He even gave it a 4.5, which is 5.0 in Steel Druhmese. And if none of that convinces you, I, too, concede that this is a great record and I suspect it’s going to be quite present during Listurnalia.

Messa // The Spin [April 11th, 2025 | Metal Blade Records | Bandcamp] — The reason I started doing three, or sometimes four, releases for Record(s) o’ the Month was because there were times when it was just impossible to choose. This month is actually kind of cruel in that all three of these could have been Record o’ the Month without question. Italian doom-jazz mystics Messa put up a good fight with their most seductive release yet. The Spin sheds the sprawl of Close in favor of tighter, moodier bangers. For my part, this is as good as I think they’ve ever sounded. Sharky Shark Boy was right when he said that “Sara’s smouldering, siren-like vocals have hit a whole new level,” lending the compositions a power I don’t remember Messa having. The Spin is doom with eyeliner and a degree in art history—classy, smokey, and ready to crush you with riffs and moody quotes from a Frenchman. While Messa has always had some appeal, there’s something about The Spin that works differently. It’s not like they’re a new band with a new sound, but instead, to quote Sharky Shark Boy, “Rather like using a velvetizer to make your hot chocolate. It’s still hot chocolate. But it’s thicker, richer, and, well, velvet-ier.” Yeah, I think that analogy pretty much says it all. No? Fine, The Dolphin Half of the Aquatic Duo chirped and bobbed overexcitedly: “Music this powerful stands ready to inspire binge listening, tone envy, and, with any luck, another generation hopelessly addicted to six strings screaming at unadvisable volumes.” And that seems like the final word on the matter.

#2025 #Apr25 #DormantOrdeal #Heritage #Messa #OfficiumTriste #RecordSOTheMonth #RecordsOfTheMonth #Structure #The11thHour #TheSpin #ToothAndNail

Record(s) o’ the Month – April 2025

By Angry Metal Guy

“April is the cruellest month,” wrote T.S. Eliot in a poem that no one quoting it has ever finished reading.1 And while Eliot was quite metal in his exquisite, existential despair about WWI or whatever, he never understood true existential dread. I speak, of course, of the dread of being force-fed twenty-five promising albums, half of which are drenched in so much reverb that you feel like you’re swimming, only to realize that you didn’t even review the Record o’ the Month yourself. Regardless, this April continued to be cruel. But this cruelty came bearing bloodied knuckles and a furrowed (and noticably pronounced) brow. Dormant Ordeal took that energy and weaponized it.

It’s not every month that a death metal album crawls out of the woodwork and shatters the Score Safety Counter like a warhammer through a piñata, but Dormant Ordeal—whose new record Tooth and Nail dropped April 18th, 2025, from Willowtip Records [Bandcamp]—did exactly that. Tooth and Nail is a masterclass in (blackened) death metal—”the classic Polish death metal sound”—done right. It’s taut, unreleating, melodic when it counts, and angrier than Angry Metal Guy when reminded of the existence of Disqus. This record hits a sweet spot inside of me best described as the “oh yeah, that’s how death metal is done” spot. The riffs flow, and my brain just opens up the spigots, releasing a veritable tsunami of dopamine. Every riff that cuts, every transition that seethes, and every recognition of the slick, skilled ways that these guys construct songs, I get a nice big kick of that Happy Chemical. Tooth and Nail is dynamic, punishing, aggressive, and better yet, it’s smart. Dormant Ordeal is like a boxer who knows exactly when to drop his guard and knock you out.2 Our very own Tyme was so excited he penned an overwrought review of Angry Metal Guyan proportions. In one of his more uncontainable moments of verbal climax, he ejaculated: “Tooth and Nail represents the absolute best of what Dormant Ordeal can be.” The rest of us wiped down the walls and nodded in agreement. And I, being an instantiation of the will of the staff through my very existence, elected it to be Record o’ the Month.

Runner(s) Up:

Structure // Heritage [April 25th, 2025 | Ardua Music | Bandcamp] — “Solo” doom project Structure did a thing that I never thought possible. It made Steel Druhm feel about a Dutch doom metal project like I felt about The 11th Hour. Oh, also, it crushed our collective will to live in the most painful way possible. A labor of love from Bram Bijlhout of Officium Triste, Heritage is crushing, exquisite, and dramatic in all the right ways. Pim Blankenstein’s vocal contributions take this funeral doom lament to operatic heights. Steel Druhm, while shotgunning his seventh doppelbock, enthusiastically spilled his beer all over the bar while trying to emphasize for everyone slightly louder than necessary that Structure has written “a monumental doom epic that caves in your chest with its raw power and brings a tear to the most jaded eye with its heartwrenching beauty!” He even gave it a 4.5, which is 5.0 in Steel Druhmese. And if none of that convinces you, I, too, concede that this is a great record and I suspect it’s going to be quite present during Listurnalia.

Messa // The Spin [April 11th, 2025 | Metal Blade Records | Bandcamp] — The reason I started doing three, or sometimes four, releases for Record(s) o’ the Month was because there were times when it was just impossible to choose. This month is actually kind of cruel in that all three of these could have been Record o’ the Month without question. Italian doom-jazz mystics Messa put up a good fight with their most seductive release yet. The Spin sheds the sprawl of Close in favor of tighter, moodier bangers. For my part, this is as good as I think they’ve ever sounded. Sharky Shark Boy was right when he said that “Sara’s smouldering, siren-like vocals have hit a whole new level,” lending the compositions a power I don’t remember Messa having. The Spin is doom with eyeliner and a degree in art history—classy, smokey, and ready to crush you with riffs and moody quotes from a Frenchman. While Messa has always had some appeal, there’s something about The Spin that works differently. It’s not like they’re a new band with a new sound, but instead, to quote Sharky Shark Boy, “Rather like using a velvetizer to make your hot chocolate. It’s still hot chocolate. But it’s thicker, richer, and, well, velvet-ier.” Yeah, I think that analogy pretty much says it all. No? Fine, The Dolphin Half of the Aquatic Duo chirped and bobbed overexcitedly: “Music this powerful stands ready to inspire binge listening, tone envy, and, with any luck, another generation hopelessly addicted to six strings screaming at unadvisable volumes.” And that seems like the final word on the matter.

#2025 #Apr25 #DormantOrdeal #Heritage #Messa #OfficiumTriste #RecordSOTheMonth #RecordsOfTheMonth #Structure #The11thHour #TheSpin #ToothAndNail

Record(s) o’ the Month – April 2025

By Angry Metal Guy

“April is the cruellest month,” wrote T.S. Eliot in a poem that no one quoting it has ever finished reading.1 And while Eliot was quite metal in his exquisite, existential despair about WWI or whatever, he never understood true existential dread. I speak, of course, of the dread of being force-fed twenty-five promising albums, half of which are drenched in so much reverb that you feel like you’re swimming, only to realize that you didn’t even review the Record o’ the Month yourself. Regardless, this April continued to be cruel. But this cruelty came bearing bloodied knuckles and a furrowed (and noticably pronounced) brow. Dormant Ordeal took that energy and weaponized it.

It’s not every month that a death metal album crawls out of the woodwork and shatters the Score Safety Counter like a warhammer through a piñata, but Dormant Ordeal—whose new record Tooth and Nail dropped April 18th, 2025, from Willowtip Records [Bandcamp]—did exactly that. Tooth and Nail is a masterclass in (blackened) death metal—”the classic Polish death metal sound”—done right. It’s taut, unreleating, melodic when it counts, and angrier than Angry Metal Guy when reminded of the existence of Disqus. This record hits a sweet spot inside of me best described as the “oh yeah, that’s how death metal is done” spot. The riffs flow, and my brain just opens up the spigots, releasing a veritable tsunami of dopamine. Every riff that cuts, every transition that seethes, and every recognition of the slick, skilled ways that these guys construct songs, I get a nice big kick of that Happy Chemical. Tooth and Nail is dynamic, punishing, aggressive, and better yet, it’s smart. Dormant Ordeal is like a boxer who knows exactly when to drop his guard and knock you out.2 Our very own Tyme was so excited he penned an overwrought review of Angry Metal Guyan proportions. In one of his more uncontainable moments of verbal climax, he ejaculated: “Tooth and Nail represents the absolute best of what Dormant Ordeal can be.” The rest of us wiped down the walls and nodded in agreement. And I, being an instantiation of the will of the staff through my very existence, elected it to be Record o’ the Month.

Runner(s) Up:

Structure // Heritage [April 25th, 2025 | Ardua Music | Bandcamp] — “Solo” doom project Structure did a thing that I never thought possible. It made Steel Druhm feel about a Dutch doom metal project like I felt about The 11th Hour. Oh, also, it crushed our collective will to live in the most painful way possible. A labor of love from Bram Bijlhout of Officium Triste, Heritage is crushing, exquisite, and dramatic in all the right ways. Pim Blankenstein’s vocal contributions take this funeral doom lament to operatic heights. Steel Druhm, while shotgunning his seventh doppelbock, enthusiastically spilled his beer all over the bar while trying to emphasize for everyone slightly louder than necessary that Structure has written “a monumental doom epic that caves in your chest with its raw power and brings a tear to the most jaded eye with its heartwrenching beauty!” He even gave it a 4.5, which is 5.0 in Steel Druhmese. And if none of that convinces you, I, too, concede that this is a great record and I suspect it’s going to be quite present during Listurnalia.

Messa // The Spin [April 11th, 2025 | Metal Blade Records | Bandcamp] — The reason I started doing three, or sometimes four, releases for Record(s) o’ the Month was because there were times when it was just impossible to choose. This month is actually kind of cruel in that all three of these could have been Record o’ the Month without question. Italian doom-jazz mystics Messa put up a good fight with their most seductive release yet. The Spin sheds the sprawl of Close in favor of tighter, moodier bangers. For my part, this is as good as I think they’ve ever sounded. Sharky Shark Boy was right when he said that “Sara’s smouldering, siren-like vocals have hit a whole new level,” lending the compositions a power I don’t remember Messa having. The Spin is doom with eyeliner and a degree in art history—classy, smokey, and ready to crush you with riffs and moody quotes from a Frenchman. While Messa has always had some appeal, there’s something about The Spin that works differently. It’s not like they’re a new band with a new sound, but instead, to quote Sharky Shark Boy, “Rather like using a velvetizer to make your hot chocolate. It’s still hot chocolate. But it’s thicker, richer, and, well, velvet-ier.” Yeah, I think that analogy pretty much says it all. No? Fine, The Dolphin Half of the Aquatic Duo chirped and bobbed overexcitedly: “Music this powerful stands ready to inspire binge listening, tone envy, and, with any luck, another generation hopelessly addicted to six strings screaming at unadvisable volumes.” And that seems like the final word on the matter.

#2025 #Apr25 #DormantOrdeal #Heritage #Messa #OfficiumTriste #RecordSOTheMonth #RecordsOfTheMonth #Structure #The11thHour #TheSpin #ToothAndNail

Record(s) o’ the Month – April 2025

By Angry Metal Guy

“April is the cruellest month,” wrote T.S. Eliot in a poem that no one quoting it has ever finished reading.1 And while Eliot was quite metal in his exquisite, existential despair about WWI or whatever, he never understood true existential dread. I speak, of course, of the dread of being force-fed twenty-five promising albums, half of which are drenched in so much reverb that you feel like you’re swimming, only to realize that you didn’t even review the Record o’ the Month yourself. Regardless, this April continued to be cruel. But this cruelty came bearing bloodied knuckles and a furrowed (and noticably pronounced) brow. Dormant Ordeal took that energy and weaponized it.

It’s not every month that a death metal album crawls out of the woodwork and shatters the Score Safety Counter like a warhammer through a piñata, but Dormant Ordeal—whose new record Tooth and Nail dropped April 18th, 2025, from Willowtip Records [Bandcamp]—did exactly that. Tooth and Nail is a masterclass in (blackened) death metal—”the classic Polish death metal sound”—done right. It’s taut, unreleating, melodic when it counts, and angrier than Angry Metal Guy when reminded of the existence of Disqus. This record hits a sweet spot inside of me best described as the “oh yeah, that’s how death metal is done” spot. The riffs flow, and my brain just opens up the spigots, releasing a veritable tsunami of dopamine. Every riff that cuts, every transition that seethes, and every recognition of the slick, skilled ways that these guys construct songs, I get a nice big kick of that Happy Chemical. Tooth and Nail is dynamic, punishing, aggressive, and better yet, it’s smart. Dormant Ordeal is like a boxer who knows exactly when to drop his guard and knock you out.2 Our very own Tyme was so excited he penned an overwrought review of Angry Metal Guyan proportions. In one of his more uncontainable moments of verbal climax, he ejaculated: “Tooth and Nail represents the absolute best of what Dormant Ordeal can be.” The rest of us wiped down the walls and nodded in agreement. And I, being an instantiation of the will of the staff through my very existence, elected it to be Record o’ the Month.

Runner(s) Up:

Structure // Heritage [April 25th, 2025 | Ardua Music | Bandcamp] — “Solo” doom project Structure did a thing that I never thought possible. It made Steel Druhm feel about a Dutch doom metal project like I felt about The 11th Hour. Oh, also, it crushed our collective will to live in the most painful way possible. A labor of love from Bram Bijlhout of Officium Triste, Heritage is crushing, exquisite, and dramatic in all the right ways. Pim Blankenstein’s vocal contributions take this funeral doom lament to operatic heights. Steel Druhm, while shotgunning his seventh doppelbock, enthusiastically spilled his beer all over the bar while trying to emphasize for everyone slightly louder than necessary that Structure has written “a monumental doom epic that caves in your chest with its raw power and brings a tear to the most jaded eye with its heartwrenching beauty!” He even gave it a 4.5, which is 5.0 in Steel Druhmese. And if none of that convinces you, I, too, concede that this is a great record and I suspect it’s going to be quite present during Listurnalia.

Messa // The Spin [April 11th, 2025 | Metal Blade Records | Bandcamp] — The reason I started doing three, or sometimes four, releases for Record(s) o’ the Month was because there were times when it was just impossible to choose. This month is actually kind of cruel in that all three of these could have been Record o’ the Month without question. Italian doom-jazz mystics Messa put up a good fight with their most seductive release yet. The Spin sheds the sprawl of Close in favor of tighter, moodier bangers. For my part, this is as good as I think they’ve ever sounded. Sharky Shark Boy was right when he said that “Sara’s smouldering, siren-like vocals have hit a whole new level,” lending the compositions a power I don’t remember Messa having. The Spin is doom with eyeliner and a degree in art history—classy, smokey, and ready to crush you with riffs and moody quotes from a Frenchman. While Messa has always had some appeal, there’s something about The Spin that works differently. It’s not like they’re a new band with a new sound, but instead, to quote Sharky Shark Boy, “Rather like using a velvetizer to make your hot chocolate. It’s still hot chocolate. But it’s thicker, richer, and, well, velvet-ier.” Yeah, I think that analogy pretty much says it all. No? Fine, The Dolphin Half of the Aquatic Duo chirped and bobbed overexcitedly: “Music this powerful stands ready to inspire binge listening, tone envy, and, with any luck, another generation hopelessly addicted to six strings screaming at unadvisable volumes.” And that seems like the final word on the matter.

#2025 #Apr25 #DormantOrdeal #Heritage #Messa #OfficiumTriste #RecordSOTheMonth #RecordsOfTheMonth #Structure #The11thHour #TheSpin #ToothAndNail

Stuck in the Filter: April 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

The cicadas have passed, the brood has bred. And now, it’s all being washed away by a constant deluge of heavy rain and hail amidst thunderous storm of increasing intensity. I imagine those skyborne rumblings shudder every wall of the ducts where my minions toil. I am sure they are frightened, claustrophobic, and soaked. And yet, they persist under my demanding and ruthless management—all so you can have more of what you already get every day in these halls.

Show your appreciation for what we bring to you, and enjoy ov deep Filter!

Kenstrosity’s Biblically-Accurate Beast

Ancient Death // Ego Dissolution [April 18th, 2025 – Profound Lore Records]

A lot of people pine for Death. We know this due to the sheer number of Death worship acts out there, most of which operate eternally under that legend’s shadow. Less common, however, are acts of worship in the service of underground-er heroes The Chasm. Thankfully, Massachusetts death metal quartet Ancient Death take on this mantle, blending much Death and The Chasm inspo with their own curated, abyssal sound. Everything here hearkens back to the ways of olde, but updated to feel relevant in the modern era. Such as this is the case, opening salvos “Ego Dissolution” and “Breaking the Barriers of Hope” strike while the iron is hot, piercing through all expectation with sharp riffs, evolving passages, and dynamic shifts in structure. So effective is this attack strategy that even instrumental aberrations like “Journey to the Inner Soul” feel story driven and purposeful. Standout tracks like “Breathe – Transcend (Into the Glowing Streams of Forever),” “Echoing Chambers Within the Dismal Mind,” and “Unspoken Earth” steal the show, however, boasting Ancient Death’s best riffs, a downright surprising display of vocal versatility, and disgusting solos and dive bombs. It needs time and dedicated spins to bloom and come alive, though, which may discourage listeners hoping for a cheap fix. But trust me, it’s worth the investment!

Killjoy’s Flavorful Feasts

Malphas // Extinct [April 11th, 2025 – Soulseller Records]

If I’m to enjoy no-frills black metal, it needs to have lots of hooks. In this sense, Switzerland’s Malphas had their priorities straight while writing Extinct. Their melodic guitar leads may not be as exuberant or exaggerated as, say, Moonlight Sorcery’s, but they have a thrashy flair which is just as much fun. Once the riffs captured my attention, they reeled me in for a battering vocal assault of coarse barks and spiteful snarls. Drummer Jöschu Käser (also of Aara and many others) can play seemingly any rhythm or tempo, best exemplified across the entirety of “Butcher’s Broom.” This is key for Malphas to prove they have the nuance to pull off mid-paced tempos (“Majestic Moon,” “Consumed,” “Armada Christi”), a quality that I find important in black metal. There are a few neat little surprises as well, like the piano section midway through “Majestic Moon” and the icy synths popping up momentarily in the instrumental closer “Astral Dissonance.” Fans of engaging and catchy meloblack won’t want to miss out on Extinct.

Svnth // Pink Noise Youth [April 18th, 2025 – These Hands Melt]

You’ve likely heard of white noise, but what about its counterpart, pink noise? Whereas white noise contains equal amounts of all frequencies audible to humans, pink noise favors lower frequencies and is generally considered to be easier on the ears. Likewise, Pink Noise Youth, Svnth’s fourth album, is a remarkably pleasant listen. This unassuming post-black group from Rome, Italy has evolved considerably since Cherd’s review of 2020’s Spring in Blue. The familiar glossy guitar tremolos and chords now have an unexpected companion: the electric sitar. This newcomer is mainly supportive, with stray notes and lines drizzled atop the already dreamy guitars for extra sweetness. There are spicier moments, too, like the punky riffs and d-beats peppered with rasping barks that kick off “Winter Blues.” There’s also a much greater prevalence of clean singing this time around, Rodolfo Ciuffo’s hypnotic intonation complements the chunky post-metal of “Perfume” as easily as the carefree guitar strumming in “Nairoby Lullaby.” Gone are the overlong, meandering tracks of before; Pink Noise Youth gets straight to the point with sharper songs hovering in the 5-minute range across a tight 37 minutes in total. Svnth seem determined to make the post-black genre their own and, by all indications, it’s working.

Owlswald’s Wide-Eyed Wonders

Game Over // Face the End [April 25th, 2025 – Scarlet Records]

In the absolutely loaded month that was April, two records surprised these owl ears enough to earn regular spots in my playlist. First up is Game Over’s sixth full-length, Face the End. These Italian thrashers have been peddling their version of the Bay Area sound since 2009, yet this is somehow my first encounter with them. Following the departure of co-founder/bassist/vocalist Renato Chiccoli, Game Over revamped its lineup, bringing in Danny Schiavina on vocals and Leonard Molinari on bass. This refreshed five-piece delivers a newly polished sound, making Face the End the most fun I’ve had with a thrash album in recent memory. “Grip of Time,” “Weaving Fate” and “Veil of Insanity” showcase Game Over’s mastery of Testament and Exodus-level aggression while “Neck Breaking Dance” offers a light-hearted pit call reminiscent of early Anthrax. Alessandro Sansone’s and Luca Zironi’s fast and forceful down-picking, melodic leads and flashy solos run over Anthony Dantone’s rock-solid drumming, all within a crisp and powerful production with ample punch. Schiavina’s charismatic, high-flying vocals immediately grab your attention on “Lust for Blood,” never relinquishing their grasp as they transmit their 70s and 80s horror-inspired themes above abundant gang vocals. In a genre plagued by inconsistency, Face the End is everything I want my thrash to be—aggressive, dynamic and fun.

Kiritsis // Kiritsis [April 4th, 2025 – Wise Blood Records/Pout Records]

Next up is the ruthless sludge and hardcore of Kiritsis. I hope you checked your fun at the door because this Indianapolis-based quartet isn’t here to make friends. Formed by members of Trenches, Hatesong, and Sundown, Kiritsis’ self-titled debut is here to punch you square in the face and take your lunch money. Over the course of thirty-one minutes, this foursome bludgeons listeners with uncompromisingly heavy doses of abrasive distortion, hard-hitting beats and pure unadulterated anger, all slathered in a blackened layer of Carcass-like filth. Blake Henry’s roars and rasps tear through your speakers with pure vitriol and torment, perfectly complementing Eric Mason’s grim riffing, Bill Scott’s demonic bass growls and Nik Jensen’s weighty drum strikes. “Like the Taste,” “Pissant” and “Deny.Defend.Dispose” embody a Will Haven spirit with a barrage of penetrating, assaulting riffs and pounding half-time slams underpinning Henry’s blood-curdling screams. Meanwhile, the sorrowful and doom-tinged “It Ain’t Easy” and “Thieves and Fools” drag you into anguish-ridden depths, draped in their dark, hopeless atmospheres and plodding facades. You won’t find any overly technical or flashy music here—this is pure hatred and loathing in a tight, cathartic package, meant to blast at high volume while you fuck shit up.

Tyme’s Grungy Gift

Melvins 1983 // Thunderball [April 18th, 2025 – Ipecac Recordings]

Hot on the heels and building off of 2024’s Tarantula Heart, stalwart grunge/sludge rock icon Buzz Osborne has teamed back up with original drummer Mike Dillard for Melvins 1983‘s third release and first in four years, Thunderball. This time around, Osborne and Dillard have partnered with experimental electronic artists Void Manes and Ni Maîtres to deliver yet another in a long line of inimitable, don’t-give-a-fuck-what-you-think releases that have become synonymous with the Melvins brand. As influential a band as any going right now on sludgy noise rock emanating from garages across the world, I take note anytime a new Melvins project hits shelves. With Thunderball, Buzz ‘n company have delivered another tasty morsel packed with some o’ that Houdini-sweet heaviness (“King of Rome”) that sweats grunge like “Negative Creep.” A merging of shimmery post-rock with punky garage rock and bass-laden disso-doom that meanders to a close in a wash of plodding riffs and bleep-bloop electronics, “Victory of the Pyramids” is a decent summation of what you’ll find lurking around most of Thunderball‘s thirty-four minute, five track corners, as Void Manes and Ni Maîtres don’t so much enhance as they incorporate their particular brand of electronica into Thunderball‘s sonic aesthetic. As a newcomer still assimilating into the Melvin hive mind here at AMG, I still have the independent lock-step wherewithal to recommend Melvins 1983‘s Thunderball to those who might have missed it.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Ample Acquisitions

Emma Goldman // All You Are Is We [April 28th, 2025 – Zegema Beach Records]

Sassy is as sassy does or somethin’ like that. If you were wondering whether anarchist icon Emma Goldman came back to life to front a mathcore band, I’m sorry to report that that is not the case. However, if you’re in the ballpark for Canadian punks speedballin’ through skronked-out, strung-out chorus barks with a hundred words trapped in ten seconds, then Emma Goldman will be your ticket to a hot psych ward summer.1 From working class psychosis (“i don’t think much at all,” “this is your brain on minimum wage”) to patchwork insomniac ramblings as loaded as the cut-and-scan cover collage (“at rock bottom i was a piss girl,” “that is the land of lost content”), vocalist Victoria delivers a shredded flurry of barks, nags, and cries that pierce straight through the boomy mix. And though the rhythm guitars and bass pulse and industrial cracklings (particularly the two interlude scratches) register on the lower end of the sound spectrum, a fluid twang and tight, clanging snare find an abrasive balance throughout—two broken tones make a right. In under half an hour, All You Are Is We both breezes by in its effortless flow and brandishes passersby with heart-stained tirades and boiled-over emotion. Along with modern acts like Massa Nera and Blind Girls, Emma Goldman in bold, romantic, and unsettled rage makes a strong case for how true skramz can continue to evolve through rich musicianship, progressive leanings, all while maintaining an adherence to post-indebted builds (“it rubs the boycott ketchup on its brand new slacks,” “that is the land…”). And with a dollop more of that cathartic and capturing energy, Emma Goldman may yet charge with the notoriety of its namesake at the front of this genre pack.

Sonum // The Obscure Light Awaits [April 11th, 2025 – Dusktone]

As a product of a previous filter fetching, I had hoped to provide a lengthier statement on my enjoyment of Sonum’s sophomore outing The Obscure Light Awaits. You see, this Italian act has a knack for supplying death metal that holds true to the origins of dark and twisted riffage while still pushing at edges of richer composition in hypnotic rhythms. As a second attempt at deathly glory, The Obscure Light Awaits shows studio knowledge growth in a drum sound that highlights expansive cymbal textures and quick-turn tom rolls that power the mood-driven world in which Sonum inhabits. And in post-growing melodic builds—the kind of atmosphere that leans dissonant like the Ulcerate-channeling broodings of Devenial Verdict—Sonum shows that mood can swell and explode on the backs of horror-tinged orchestral accompaniment and creaking refrains (“Trapped in the Labyrinth of Aberration,” “Nobody Is Innocent”). Trimmed to a three-piece set for The Obscure Light Awaits, the focus that borders on self-similarity on this extended-length journey feels both intimate and indulgent—the closing psychedelic jam session certainly leans on the latter feeling. But with churning tremolo runs that lead to gruff-toned cries, the majority of what Sonum brings to the table lands in consistent and crushing effort (“In This Void We Dwell,” “Messenger of Cosmic Dread”). As a band still finding their footing in the grander scheme of the death metal universe, Sonum has a sense of identity that gives them a fighting edge. And though The Obscure Light Awaits wears its unique vision a little loose at the waist, its journey is well worth exploring.

Zmarłym // Wielkie Zanikanie [April 18th, 2025 – Godz of War Productions]

Once upon a time, Zmarłym fancied themselves a Polish sadboi act whose turmoil was wrapped in the urban decay of early COVID lockdown measures. And now that we’ve all stepped some distance—a safe distance you might say—away from that reality, Zmarłym has learned that the sad doesn’t dissipate quite that easily. Wielkie Zanikanie finds a familiar malaise in isolation, frustration, and a general defeated nature wrapped up in a longing black metal wane with post-punk and progressive undertones, much like you’d find on a record like Voice’s Frightened or Cursebinder’s Drifting. Blaring synth throbs give way to entrancing drum patterns and phase-shifting vocal howls (“Miejsca,” “Bunt maszyn”). Classic tremolo flurries raze playful energy to set the stage for sinister, blood-soaked cries (“Sny o lataniu,” “Plamy II”). And though a goofy mid-album Killing Joke-indebted romp—even a switch to heavy accent English from the brooding native tongue—threatens to break the sinister ambiance that Zmarłym explores throughout the rest of Wielkie Zanikanie, its soft and bouncy inclusions still find layering amongst smoldering black metal riffage. And as all elements come to join hands in the space-bound, synth squealing crescendo of the closing title track, Zmarłym has delivered an experience full of variety and surprise, curated to bore a hole into a mind searching for melancholy with a sense of adventure and play.

#2025 #Aara #AllYouAreIsWe #AmericanMetal #AncientDeath #Anthrax #Apr25 #BlackMetal #BlindGirls #Carcass #Cursebinder #Death #DeathMetal #DevenialVerdict #Dusktone #EgoDissolution #EmmaGoldman #Exodus #Extinct #FaceTheEnd #GameOver #GodzOfWarProductions #Grunge #Hardcore #Hatesong #IpecacRecordings #ItalianMetal #KillingJoke #Kirtisis #Malphas #MassaNera #Mathcore #MelodicBlackMetal #Melvins #Melvins1983 #Metal #MoonlightSorcery #NiMaîtres #PinkNoiseYouth #PolishMetal #PostBlackMetal #postPunk #PoutRecords #ProfoundLoreRecords #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #ScarletRecords #Screamo #Sludge #SludgeMetal #SludgeRock #Sonum #SoulsellerRecords #StuckInTheFilter #StuckInTheFilter2025 #Sundown #Svnth #Swiss #Testament #TheChasm #TheObscureLightAwaits #TheseHandsMelt #ThrashMetal #Thunderball #Trenches #Ulcerate #Voices #VoidManes #WielkieZanikanie #WillHaven #WiseBloodRecords #ZegemaBeachRecords #Zmarłym

Stuck in the Filter: April 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

The cicadas have passed, the brood has bred. And now, it’s all being washed away by a constant deluge of heavy rain and hail amidst thunderous storm of increasing intensity. I imagine those skyborne rumblings shudder every wall of the ducts where my minions toil. I am sure they are frightened, claustrophobic, and soaked. And yet, they persist under my demanding and ruthless management—all so you can have more of what you already get every day in these halls.

Show your appreciation for what we bring to you, and enjoy ov deep Filter!

Kenstrosity’s Biblically-Accurate Beast

Ancient Death // Ego Dissolution [April 18th, 2025 – Profound Lore Records]

A lot of people pine for Death. We know this due to the sheer number of Death worship acts out there, most of which operate eternally under that legend’s shadow. Less common, however, are acts of worship in the service of underground-er heroes The Chasm. Thankfully, Massachusetts death metal quartet Ancient Death take on this mantle, blending much Death and The Chasm inspo with their own curated, abyssal sound. Everything here hearkens back to the ways of olde, but updated to feel relevant in the modern era. Such as this is the case, opening salvos “Ego Dissolution” and “Breaking the Barriers of Hope” strike while the iron is hot, piercing through all expectation with sharp riffs, evolving passages, and dynamic shifts in structure. So effective is this attack strategy that even instrumental aberrations like “Journey to the Inner Soul” feel story driven and purposeful. Standout tracks like “Breathe – Transcend (Into the Glowing Streams of Forever),” “Echoing Chambers Within the Dismal Mind,” and “Unspoken Earth” steal the show, however, boasting Ancient Death’s best riffs, a downright surprising display of vocal versatility, and disgusting solos and dive bombs. It needs time and dedicated spins to bloom and come alive, though, which may discourage listeners hoping for a cheap fix. But trust me, it’s worth the investment!

Killjoy’s Flavorful Feasts

Malphas // Extinct [April 11th, 2025 – Soulseller Records]

If I’m to enjoy no-frills black metal, it needs to have lots of hooks. In this sense, Switzerland’s Malphas had their priorities straight while writing Extinct. Their melodic guitar leads may not be as exuberant or exaggerated as, say, Moonlight Sorcery’s, but they have a thrashy flair which is just as much fun. Once the riffs captured my attention, they reeled me in for a battering vocal assault of coarse barks and spiteful snarls. Drummer Jöschu Käser (also of Aara and many others) can play seemingly any rhythm or tempo, best exemplified across the entirety of “Butcher’s Broom.” This is key for Malphas to prove they have the nuance to pull off mid-paced tempos (“Majestic Moon,” “Consumed,” “Armada Christi”), a quality that I find important in black metal. There are a few neat little surprises as well, like the piano section midway through “Majestic Moon” and the icy synths popping up momentarily in the instrumental closer “Astral Dissonance.” Fans of engaging and catchy meloblack won’t want to miss out on Extinct.

Svnth // Pink Noise Youth [April 18th, 2025 – These Hands Melt]

You’ve likely heard of white noise, but what about its counterpart, pink noise? Whereas white noise contains equal amounts of all frequencies audible to humans, pink noise favors lower frequencies and is generally considered to be easier on the ears. Likewise, Pink Noise Youth, Svnth’s fourth album, is a remarkably pleasant listen. This unassuming post-black group from Rome, Italy has evolved considerably since Cherd’s review of 2020’s Spring in Blue. The familiar glossy guitar tremolos and chords now have an unexpected companion: the electric sitar. This newcomer is mainly supportive, with stray notes and lines drizzled atop the already dreamy guitars for extra sweetness. There are spicier moments, too, like the punky riffs and d-beats peppered with rasping barks that kick off “Winter Blues.” There’s also a much greater prevalence of clean singing this time around, Rodolfo Ciuffo’s hypnotic intonation complements the chunky post-metal of “Perfume” as easily as the carefree guitar strumming in “Nairoby Lullaby.” Gone are the overlong, meandering tracks of before; Pink Noise Youth gets straight to the point with sharper songs hovering in the 5-minute range across a tight 37 minutes in total. Svnth seem determined to make the post-black genre their own and, by all indications, it’s working.

Owlswald’s Wide-Eyed Wonders

Game Over // Face the End [April 25th, 2025 – Scarlet Records]

In the absolutely loaded month that was April, two records surprised these owl ears enough to earn regular spots in my playlist. First up is Game Over’s sixth full-length, Face the End. These Italian thrashers have been peddling their version of the Bay Area sound since 2009, yet this is somehow my first encounter with them. Following the departure of co-founder/bassist/vocalist Renato Chiccoli, Game Over revamped its lineup, bringing in Danny Schiavina on vocals and Leonard Molinari on bass. This refreshed five-piece delivers a newly polished sound, making Face the End the most fun I’ve had with a thrash album in recent memory. “Grip of Time,” “Weaving Fate” and “Veil of Insanity” showcase Game Over’s mastery of Testament and Exodus-level aggression while “Neck Breaking Dance” offers a light-hearted pit call reminiscent of early Anthrax. Alessandro Sansone’s and Luca Zironi’s fast and forceful down-picking, melodic leads and flashy solos run over Anthony Dantone’s rock-solid drumming, all within a crisp and powerful production with ample punch. Schiavina’s charismatic, high-flying vocals immediately grab your attention on “Lust for Blood,” never relinquishing their grasp as they transmit their 70s and 80s horror-inspired themes above abundant gang vocals. In a genre plagued by inconsistency, Face the End is everything I want my thrash to be—aggressive, dynamic and fun.

Kiritsis // Kiritsis [April 4th, 2025 – Wise Blood Records/Pout Records]

Next up is the ruthless sludge and hardcore of Kiritsis. I hope you checked your fun at the door because this Indianapolis-based quartet isn’t here to make friends. Formed by members of Trenches, Hatesong, and Sundown, Kiritsis’ self-titled debut is here to punch you square in the face and take your lunch money. Over the course of thirty-one minutes, this foursome bludgeons listeners with uncompromisingly heavy doses of abrasive distortion, hard-hitting beats and pure unadulterated anger, all slathered in a blackened layer of Carcass-like filth. Blake Henry’s roars and rasps tear through your speakers with pure vitriol and torment, perfectly complementing Eric Mason’s grim riffing, Bill Scott’s demonic bass growls and Nik Jensen’s weighty drum strikes. “Like the Taste,” “Pissant” and “Deny.Defend.Dispose” embody a Will Haven spirit with a barrage of penetrating, assaulting riffs and pounding half-time slams underpinning Henry’s blood-curdling screams. Meanwhile, the sorrowful and doom-tinged “It Ain’t Easy” and “Thieves and Fools” drag you into anguish-ridden depths, draped in their dark, hopeless atmospheres and plodding facades. You won’t find any overly technical or flashy music here—this is pure hatred and loathing in a tight, cathartic package, meant to blast at high volume while you fuck shit up.

Tyme’s Grungy Gift

Melvins 1983 // Thunderball [April 18th, 2025 – Ipecac Recordings]

Hot on the heels and building off of 2024’s Tarantula Heart, stalwart grunge/sludge rock icon Buzz Osborne has teamed back up with original drummer Mike Dillard for Melvins 1983‘s third release and first in four years, Thunderball. This time around, Osborne and Dillard have partnered with experimental electronic artists Void Manes and Ni Maîtres to deliver yet another in a long line of inimitable, don’t-give-a-fuck-what-you-think releases that have become synonymous with the Melvins brand. As influential a band as any going right now on sludgy noise rock emanating from garages across the world, I take note anytime a new Melvins project hits shelves. With Thunderball, Buzz ‘n company have delivered another tasty morsel packed with some o’ that Houdini-sweet heaviness (“King of Rome”) that sweats grunge like “Negative Creep.” A merging of shimmery post-rock with punky garage rock and bass-laden disso-doom that meanders to a close in a wash of plodding riffs and bleep-bloop electronics, “Victory of the Pyramids” is a decent summation of what you’ll find lurking around most of Thunderball‘s thirty-four minute, five track corners, as Void Manes and Ni Maîtres don’t so much enhance as they incorporate their particular brand of electronica into Thunderball‘s sonic aesthetic. As a newcomer still assimilating into the Melvin hive mind here at AMG, I still have the independent lock-step wherewithal to recommend Melvins 1983‘s Thunderball to those who might have missed it.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Ample Acquisitions

Emma Goldman // All You Are Is We [April 28th, 2025 – Zegema Beach Records]

Sassy is as sassy does or somethin’ like that. If you were wondering whether anarchist icon Emma Goldman came back to life to front a mathcore band, I’m sorry to report that that is not the case. However, if you’re in the ballpark for Canadian punks speedballin’ through skronked-out, strung-out chorus barks with a hundred words trapped in ten seconds, then Emma Goldman will be your ticket to a hot psych ward summer.1 From working class psychosis (“i don’t think much at all,” “this is your brain on minimum wage”) to patchwork insomniac ramblings as loaded as the cut-and-scan cover collage (“at rock bottom i was a piss girl,” “that is the land of lost content”), vocalist Victoria delivers a shredded flurry of barks, nags, and cries that pierce straight through the boomy mix. And though the rhythm guitars and bass pulse and industrial cracklings (particularly the two interlude scratches) register on the lower end of the sound spectrum, a fluid twang and tight, clanging snare find an abrasive balance throughout—two broken tones make a right. In under half an hour, All You Are Is We both breezes by in its effortless flow and brandishes passersby with heart-stained tirades and boiled-over emotion. Along with modern acts like Massa Nera and Blind Girls, Emma Goldman in bold, romantic, and unsettled rage makes a strong case for how true skramz can continue to evolve through rich musicianship, progressive leanings, all while maintaining an adherence to post-indebted builds (“it rubs the boycott ketchup on its brand new slacks,” “that is the land…”). And with a dollop more of that cathartic and capturing energy, Emma Goldman may yet charge with the notoriety of its namesake at the front of this genre pack.

Sonum // The Obscure Light Awaits [April 11th, 2025 – Dusktone]

As a product of a previous filter fetching, I had hoped to provide a lengthier statement on my enjoyment of Sonum’s sophomore outing The Obscure Light Awaits. You see, this Italian act has a knack for supplying death metal that holds true to the origins of dark and twisted riffage while still pushing at edges of richer composition in hypnotic rhythms. As a second attempt at deathly glory, The Obscure Light Awaits shows studio knowledge growth in a drum sound that highlights expansive cymbal textures and quick-turn tom rolls that power the mood-driven world in which Sonum inhabits. And in post-growing melodic builds—the kind of atmosphere that leans dissonant like the Ulcerate-channeling broodings of Devenial Verdict—Sonum shows that mood can swell and explode on the backs of horror-tinged orchestral accompaniment and creaking refrains (“Trapped in the Labyrinth of Aberration,” “Nobody Is Innocent”). Trimmed to a three-piece set for The Obscure Light Awaits, the focus that borders on self-similarity on this extended-length journey feels both intimate and indulgent—the closing psychedelic jam session certainly leans on the latter feeling. But with churning tremolo runs that lead to gruff-toned cries, the majority of what Sonum brings to the table lands in consistent and crushing effort (“In This Void We Dwell,” “Messenger of Cosmic Dread”). As a band still finding their footing in the grander scheme of the death metal universe, Sonum has a sense of identity that gives them a fighting edge. And though The Obscure Light Awaits wears its unique vision a little loose at the waist, its journey is well worth exploring.

Zmarłym // Wielkie Zanikanie [April 18th, 2025 – Godz of War Productions]

Once upon a time, Zmarłym fancied themselves a Polish sadboi act whose turmoil was wrapped in the urban decay of early COVID lockdown measures. And now that we’ve all stepped some distance—a safe distance you might say—away from that reality, Zmarłym has learned that the sad doesn’t dissipate quite that easily. Wielkie Zanikanie finds a familiar malaise in isolation, frustration, and a general defeated nature wrapped up in a longing black metal wane with post-punk and progressive undertones, much like you’d find on a record like Voice’s Frightened or Cursebinder’s Drifting. Blaring synth throbs give way to entrancing drum patterns and phase-shifting vocal howls (“Miejsca,” “Bunt maszyn”). Classic tremolo flurries raze playful energy to set the stage for sinister, blood-soaked cries (“Sny o lataniu,” “Plamy II”). And though a goofy mid-album Killing Joke-indebted romp—even a switch to heavy accent English from the brooding native tongue—threatens to break the sinister ambiance that Zmarłym explores throughout the rest of Wielkie Zanikanie, its soft and bouncy inclusions still find layering amongst smoldering black metal riffage. And as all elements come to join hands in the space-bound, synth squealing crescendo of the closing title track, Zmarłym has delivered an experience full of variety and surprise, curated to bore a hole into a mind searching for melancholy with a sense of adventure and play.

#2025 #Aara #AllYouAreIsWe #AmericanMetal #AncientDeath #Anthrax #Apr25 #BlackMetal #BlindGirls #Carcass #Cursebinder #Death #DeathMetal #DevenialVerdict #Dusktone #EgoDissolution #EmmaGoldman #Exodus #Extinct #FaceTheEnd #GameOver #GodzOfWarProductions #Grunge #Hardcore #Hatesong #IpecacRecordings #ItalianMetal #KillingJoke #Kirtisis #Malphas #MassaNera #Mathcore #MelodicBlackMetal #Melvins #Melvins1983 #Metal #MoonlightSorcery #NiMaîtres #PinkNoiseYouth #PolishMetal #PostBlackMetal #postPunk #PoutRecords #ProfoundLoreRecords #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #ScarletRecords #Screamo #Sludge #SludgeMetal #SludgeRock #Sonum #SoulsellerRecords #StuckInTheFilter #StuckInTheFilter2025 #Sundown #Svnth #Swiss #Testament #TheChasm #TheObscureLightAwaits #TheseHandsMelt #ThrashMetal #Thunderball #Trenches #Ulcerate #Voices #VoidManes #WielkieZanikanie #WillHaven #WiseBloodRecords #ZegemaBeachRecords #Zmarłym

Stuck in the Filter: April 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

The cicadas have passed, the brood has bred. And now, it’s all being washed away by a constant deluge of heavy rain and hail amidst thunderous storm of increasing intensity. I imagine those skyborne rumblings shudder every wall of the ducts where my minions toil. I am sure they are frightened, claustrophobic, and soaked. And yet, they persist under my demanding and ruthless management—all so you can have more of what you already get every day in these halls.

Show your appreciation for what we bring to you, and enjoy ov deep Filter!

Kenstrosity’s Biblically-Accurate Beast

Ancient Death // Ego Dissolution [April 18th, 2025 – Profound Lore Records]

A lot of people pine for Death. We know this due to the sheer number of Death worship acts out there, most of which operate eternally under that legend’s shadow. Less common, however, are acts of worship in the service of underground-er heroes The Chasm. Thankfully, Massachusetts death metal quartet Ancient Death take on this mantle, blending much Death and The Chasm inspo with their own curated, abyssal sound. Everything here hearkens back to the ways of olde, but updated to feel relevant in the modern era. Such as this is the case, opening salvos “Ego Dissolution” and “Breaking the Barriers of Hope” strike while the iron is hot, piercing through all expectation with sharp riffs, evolving passages, and dynamic shifts in structure. So effective is this attack strategy that even instrumental aberrations like “Journey to the Inner Soul” feel story driven and purposeful. Standout tracks like “Breathe – Transcend (Into the Glowing Streams of Forever),” “Echoing Chambers Within the Dismal Mind,” and “Unspoken Earth” steal the show, however, boasting Ancient Death’s best riffs, a downright surprising display of vocal versatility, and disgusting solos and dive bombs. It needs time and dedicated spins to bloom and come alive, though, which may discourage listeners hoping for a cheap fix. But trust me, it’s worth the investment!

Killjoy’s Flavorful Feasts

Malphas // Extinct [April 11th, 2025 – Soulseller Records]

If I’m to enjoy no-frills black metal, it needs to have lots of hooks. In this sense, Switzerland’s Malphas had their priorities straight while writing Extinct. Their melodic guitar leads may not be as exuberant or exaggerated as, say, Moonlight Sorcery’s, but they have a thrashy flair which is just as much fun. Once the riffs captured my attention, they reeled me in for a battering vocal assault of coarse barks and spiteful snarls. Drummer Jöschu Käser (also of Aara and many others) can play seemingly any rhythm or tempo, best exemplified across the entirety of “Butcher’s Broom.” This is key for Malphas to prove they have the nuance to pull off mid-paced tempos (“Majestic Moon,” “Consumed,” “Armada Christi”), a quality that I find important in black metal. There are a few neat little surprises as well, like the piano section midway through “Majestic Moon” and the icy synths popping up momentarily in the instrumental closer “Astral Dissonance.” Fans of engaging and catchy meloblack won’t want to miss out on Extinct.

Svnth // Pink Noise Youth [April 18th, 2025 – These Hands Melt]

You’ve likely heard of white noise, but what about its counterpart, pink noise? Whereas white noise contains equal amounts of all frequencies audible to humans, pink noise favors lower frequencies and is generally considered to be easier on the ears. Likewise, Pink Noise Youth, Svnth’s fourth album, is a remarkably pleasant listen. This unassuming post-black group from Rome, Italy has evolved considerably since Cherd’s review of 2020’s Spring in Blue. The familiar glossy guitar tremolos and chords now have an unexpected companion: the electric sitar. This newcomer is mainly supportive, with stray notes and lines drizzled atop the already dreamy guitars for extra sweetness. There are spicier moments, too, like the punky riffs and d-beats peppered with rasping barks that kick off “Winter Blues.” There’s also a much greater prevalence of clean singing this time around, Rodolfo Ciuffo’s hypnotic intonation complements the chunky post-metal of “Perfume” as easily as the carefree guitar strumming in “Nairoby Lullaby.” Gone are the overlong, meandering tracks of before; Pink Noise Youth gets straight to the point with sharper songs hovering in the 5-minute range across a tight 37 minutes in total. Svnth seem determined to make the post-black genre their own and, by all indications, it’s working.

Owlswald’s Wide-Eyed Wonders

Game Over // Face the End [April 25th, 2025 – Scarlet Records]

In the absolutely loaded month that was April, two records surprised these owl ears enough to earn regular spots in my playlist. First up is Game Over’s sixth full-length, Face the End. These Italian thrashers have been peddling their version of the Bay Area sound since 2009, yet this is somehow my first encounter with them. Following the departure of co-founder/bassist/vocalist Renato Chiccoli, Game Over revamped its lineup, bringing in Danny Schiavina on vocals and Leonard Molinari on bass. This refreshed five-piece delivers a newly polished sound, making Face the End the most fun I’ve had with a thrash album in recent memory. “Grip of Time,” “Weaving Fate” and “Veil of Insanity” showcase Game Over’s mastery of Testament and Exodus-level aggression while “Neck Breaking Dance” offers a light-hearted pit call reminiscent of early Anthrax. Alessandro Sansone’s and Luca Zironi’s fast and forceful down-picking, melodic leads and flashy solos run over Anthony Dantone’s rock-solid drumming, all within a crisp and powerful production with ample punch. Schiavina’s charismatic, high-flying vocals immediately grab your attention on “Lust for Blood,” never relinquishing their grasp as they transmit their 70s and 80s horror-inspired themes above abundant gang vocals. In a genre plagued by inconsistency, Face the End is everything I want my thrash to be—aggressive, dynamic and fun.

Kiritsis // Kiritsis [April 4th, 2025 – Wise Blood Records/Pout Records]

Next up is the ruthless sludge and hardcore of Kiritsis. I hope you checked your fun at the door because this Indianapolis-based quartet isn’t here to make friends. Formed by members of Trenches, Hatesong, and Sundown, Kiritsis’ self-titled debut is here to punch you square in the face and take your lunch money. Over the course of thirty-one minutes, this foursome bludgeons listeners with uncompromisingly heavy doses of abrasive distortion, hard-hitting beats and pure unadulterated anger, all slathered in a blackened layer of Carcass-like filth. Blake Henry’s roars and rasps tear through your speakers with pure vitriol and torment, perfectly complementing Eric Mason’s grim riffing, Bill Scott’s demonic bass growls and Nik Jensen’s weighty drum strikes. “Like the Taste,” “Pissant” and “Deny.Defend.Dispose” embody a Will Haven spirit with a barrage of penetrating, assaulting riffs and pounding half-time slams underpinning Henry’s blood-curdling screams. Meanwhile, the sorrowful and doom-tinged “It Ain’t Easy” and “Thieves and Fools” drag you into anguish-ridden depths, draped in their dark, hopeless atmospheres and plodding facades. You won’t find any overly technical or flashy music here—this is pure hatred and loathing in a tight, cathartic package, meant to blast at high volume while you fuck shit up.

Tyme’s Grungy Gift

Melvins 1983 // Thunderball [April 18th, 2025 – Ipecac Recordings]

Hot on the heels and building off of 2024’s Tarantula Heart, stalwart grunge/sludge rock icon Buzz Osborne has teamed back up with original drummer Mike Dillard for Melvins 1983‘s third release and first in four years, Thunderball. This time around, Osborne and Dillard have partnered with experimental electronic artists Void Manes and Ni Maîtres to deliver yet another in a long line of inimitable, don’t-give-a-fuck-what-you-think releases that have become synonymous with the Melvins brand. As influential a band as any going right now on sludgy noise rock emanating from garages across the world, I take note anytime a new Melvins project hits shelves. With Thunderball, Buzz ‘n company have delivered another tasty morsel packed with some o’ that Houdini-sweet heaviness (“King of Rome”) that sweats grunge like “Negative Creep.” A merging of shimmery post-rock with punky garage rock and bass-laden disso-doom that meanders to a close in a wash of plodding riffs and bleep-bloop electronics, “Victory of the Pyramids” is a decent summation of what you’ll find lurking around most of Thunderball‘s thirty-four minute, five track corners, as Void Manes and Ni Maîtres don’t so much enhance as they incorporate their particular brand of electronica into Thunderball‘s sonic aesthetic. As a newcomer still assimilating into the Melvin hive mind here at AMG, I still have the independent lock-step wherewithal to recommend Melvins 1983‘s Thunderball to those who might have missed it.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Ample Acquisitions

Emma Goldman // All You Are Is We [April 28th, 2025 – Zegema Beach Records]

Sassy is as sassy does or somethin’ like that. If you were wondering whether anarchist icon Emma Goldman came back to life to front a mathcore band, I’m sorry to report that that is not the case. However, if you’re in the ballpark for Canadian punks speedballin’ through skronked-out, strung-out chorus barks with a hundred words trapped in ten seconds, then Emma Goldman will be your ticket to a hot psych ward summer.1 From working class psychosis (“i don’t think much at all,” “this is your brain on minimum wage”) to patchwork insomniac ramblings as loaded as the cut-and-scan cover collage (“at rock bottom i was a piss girl,” “that is the land of lost content”), vocalist Victoria delivers a shredded flurry of barks, nags, and cries that pierce straight through the boomy mix. And though the rhythm guitars and bass pulse and industrial cracklings (particularly the two interlude scratches) register on the lower end of the sound spectrum, a fluid twang and tight, clanging snare find an abrasive balance throughout—two broken tones make a right. In under half an hour, All You Are Is We both breezes by in its effortless flow and brandishes passersby with heart-stained tirades and boiled-over emotion. Along with modern acts like Massa Nera and Blind Girls, Emma Goldman in bold, romantic, and unsettled rage makes a strong case for how true skramz can continue to evolve through rich musicianship, progressive leanings, all while maintaining an adherence to post-indebted builds (“it rubs the boycott ketchup on its brand new slacks,” “that is the land…”). And with a dollop more of that cathartic and capturing energy, Emma Goldman may yet charge with the notoriety of its namesake at the front of this genre pack.

Sonum // The Obscure Light Awaits [April 11th, 2025 – Dusktone]

As a product of a previous filter fetching, I had hoped to provide a lengthier statement on my enjoyment of Sonum’s sophomore outing The Obscure Light Awaits. You see, this Italian act has a knack for supplying death metal that holds true to the origins of dark and twisted riffage while still pushing at edges of richer composition in hypnotic rhythms. As a second attempt at deathly glory, The Obscure Light Awaits shows studio knowledge growth in a drum sound that highlights expansive cymbal textures and quick-turn tom rolls that power the mood-driven world in which Sonum inhabits. And in post-growing melodic builds—the kind of atmosphere that leans dissonant like the Ulcerate-channeling broodings of Devenial Verdict—Sonum shows that mood can swell and explode on the backs of horror-tinged orchestral accompaniment and creaking refrains (“Trapped in the Labyrinth of Aberration,” “Nobody Is Innocent”). Trimmed to a three-piece set for The Obscure Light Awaits, the focus that borders on self-similarity on this extended-length journey feels both intimate and indulgent—the closing psychedelic jam session certainly leans on the latter feeling. But with churning tremolo runs that lead to gruff-toned cries, the majority of what Sonum brings to the table lands in consistent and crushing effort (“In This Void We Dwell,” “Messenger of Cosmic Dread”). As a band still finding their footing in the grander scheme of the death metal universe, Sonum has a sense of identity that gives them a fighting edge. And though The Obscure Light Awaits wears its unique vision a little loose at the waist, its journey is well worth exploring.

Zmarłym // Wielkie Zanikanie [April 18th, 2025 – Godz of War Productions]

Once upon a time, Zmarłym fancied themselves a Polish sadboi act whose turmoil was wrapped in the urban decay of early COVID lockdown measures. And now that we’ve all stepped some distance—a safe distance you might say—away from that reality, Zmarłym has learned that the sad doesn’t dissipate quite that easily. Wielkie Zanikanie finds a familiar malaise in isolation, frustration, and a general defeated nature wrapped up in a longing black metal wane with post-punk and progressive undertones, much like you’d find on a record like Voice’s Frightened or Cursebinder’s Drifting. Blaring synth throbs give way to entrancing drum patterns and phase-shifting vocal howls (“Miejsca,” “Bunt maszyn”). Classic tremolo flurries raze playful energy to set the stage for sinister, blood-soaked cries (“Sny o lataniu,” “Plamy II”). And though a goofy mid-album Killing Joke-indebted romp—even a switch to heavy accent English from the brooding native tongue—threatens to break the sinister ambiance that Zmarłym explores throughout the rest of Wielkie Zanikanie, its soft and bouncy inclusions still find layering amongst smoldering black metal riffage. And as all elements come to join hands in the space-bound, synth squealing crescendo of the closing title track, Zmarłym has delivered an experience full of variety and surprise, curated to bore a hole into a mind searching for melancholy with a sense of adventure and play.

#2025 #Aara #AllYouAreIsWe #AmericanMetal #AncientDeath #Anthrax #Apr25 #BlackMetal #BlindGirls #Carcass #Cursebinder #Death #DeathMetal #DevenialVerdict #Dusktone #EgoDissolution #EmmaGoldman #Exodus #Extinct #FaceTheEnd #GameOver #GodzOfWarProductions #Grunge #Hardcore #Hatesong #IpecacRecordings #ItalianMetal #KillingJoke #Kirtisis #Malphas #MassaNera #Mathcore #MelodicBlackMetal #Melvins #Melvins1983 #Metal #MoonlightSorcery #NiMaîtres #PinkNoiseYouth #PolishMetal #PostBlackMetal #postPunk #PoutRecords #ProfoundLoreRecords #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #ScarletRecords #Screamo #Sludge #SludgeMetal #SludgeRock #Sonum #SoulsellerRecords #StuckInTheFilter #StuckInTheFilter2025 #Sundown #Svnth #Swiss #Testament #TheChasm #TheObscureLightAwaits #TheseHandsMelt #ThrashMetal #Thunderball #Trenches #Ulcerate #Voices #VoidManes #WielkieZanikanie #WillHaven #WiseBloodRecords #ZegemaBeachRecords #Zmarłym

Stuck in the Filter: April 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

The cicadas have passed, the brood has bred. And now, it’s all being washed away by a constant deluge of heavy rain and hail amidst thunderous storm of increasing intensity. I imagine those skyborne rumblings shudder every wall of the ducts where my minions toil. I am sure they are frightened, claustrophobic, and soaked. And yet, they persist under my demanding and ruthless management—all so you can have more of what you already get every day in these halls.

Show your appreciation for what we bring to you, and enjoy ov deep Filter!

Kenstrosity’s Biblically-Accurate Beast

Ancient Death // Ego Dissolution [April 18th, 2025 – Profound Lore Records]

A lot of people pine for Death. We know this due to the sheer number of Death worship acts out there, most of which operate eternally under that legend’s shadow. Less common, however, are acts of worship in the service of underground-er heroes The Chasm. Thankfully, Massachusetts death metal quartet Ancient Death take on this mantle, blending much Death and The Chasm inspo with their own curated, abyssal sound. Everything here hearkens back to the ways of olde, but updated to feel relevant in the modern era. Such as this is the case, opening salvos “Ego Dissolution” and “Breaking the Barriers of Hope” strike while the iron is hot, piercing through all expectation with sharp riffs, evolving passages, and dynamic shifts in structure. So effective is this attack strategy that even instrumental aberrations like “Journey to the Inner Soul” feel story driven and purposeful. Standout tracks like “Breathe – Transcend (Into the Glowing Streams of Forever),” “Echoing Chambers Within the Dismal Mind,” and “Unspoken Earth” steal the show, however, boasting Ancient Death’s best riffs, a downright surprising display of vocal versatility, and disgusting solos and dive bombs. It needs time and dedicated spins to bloom and come alive, though, which may discourage listeners hoping for a cheap fix. But trust me, it’s worth the investment!

Killjoy’s Flavorful Feasts

Malphas // Extinct [April 11th, 2025 – Soulseller Records]

If I’m to enjoy no-frills black metal, it needs to have lots of hooks. In this sense, Switzerland’s Malphas had their priorities straight while writing Extinct. Their melodic guitar leads may not be as exuberant or exaggerated as, say, Moonlight Sorcery’s, but they have a thrashy flair which is just as much fun. Once the riffs captured my attention, they reeled me in for a battering vocal assault of coarse barks and spiteful snarls. Drummer Jöschu Käser (also of Aara and many others) can play seemingly any rhythm or tempo, best exemplified across the entirety of “Butcher’s Broom.” This is key for Malphas to prove they have the nuance to pull off mid-paced tempos (“Majestic Moon,” “Consumed,” “Armada Christi”), a quality that I find important in black metal. There are a few neat little surprises as well, like the piano section midway through “Majestic Moon” and the icy synths popping up momentarily in the instrumental closer “Astral Dissonance.” Fans of engaging and catchy meloblack won’t want to miss out on Extinct.

Svnth // Pink Noise Youth [April 18th, 2025 – These Hands Melt]

You’ve likely heard of white noise, but what about its counterpart, pink noise? Whereas white noise contains equal amounts of all frequencies audible to humans, pink noise favors lower frequencies and is generally considered to be easier on the ears. Likewise, Pink Noise Youth, Svnth’s fourth album, is a remarkably pleasant listen. This unassuming post-black group from Rome, Italy has evolved considerably since Cherd’s review of 2020’s Spring in Blue. The familiar glossy guitar tremolos and chords now have an unexpected companion: the electric sitar. This newcomer is mainly supportive, with stray notes and lines drizzled atop the already dreamy guitars for extra sweetness. There are spicier moments, too, like the punky riffs and d-beats peppered with rasping barks that kick off “Winter Blues.” There’s also a much greater prevalence of clean singing this time around, Rodolfo Ciuffo’s hypnotic intonation complements the chunky post-metal of “Perfume” as easily as the carefree guitar strumming in “Nairoby Lullaby.” Gone are the overlong, meandering tracks of before; Pink Noise Youth gets straight to the point with sharper songs hovering in the 5-minute range across a tight 37 minutes in total. Svnth seem determined to make the post-black genre their own and, by all indications, it’s working.

Owlswald’s Wide-Eyed Wonders

Game Over // Face the End [April 25th, 2025 – Scarlet Records]

In the absolutely loaded month that was April, two records surprised these owl ears enough to earn regular spots in my playlist. First up is Game Over’s sixth full-length, Face the End. These Italian thrashers have been peddling their version of the Bay Area sound since 2009, yet this is somehow my first encounter with them. Following the departure of co-founder/bassist/vocalist Renato Chiccoli, Game Over revamped its lineup, bringing in Danny Schiavina on vocals and Leonard Molinari on bass. This refreshed five-piece delivers a newly polished sound, making Face the End the most fun I’ve had with a thrash album in recent memory. “Grip of Time,” “Weaving Fate” and “Veil of Insanity” showcase Game Over’s mastery of Testament and Exodus-level aggression while “Neck Breaking Dance” offers a light-hearted pit call reminiscent of early Anthrax. Alessandro Sansone’s and Luca Zironi’s fast and forceful down-picking, melodic leads and flashy solos run over Anthony Dantone’s rock-solid drumming, all within a crisp and powerful production with ample punch. Schiavina’s charismatic, high-flying vocals immediately grab your attention on “Lust for Blood,” never relinquishing their grasp as they transmit their 70s and 80s horror-inspired themes above abundant gang vocals. In a genre plagued by inconsistency, Face the End is everything I want my thrash to be—aggressive, dynamic and fun.

Kiritsis // Kiritsis [April 4th, 2025 – Wise Blood Records/Pout Records]

Next up is the ruthless sludge and hardcore of Kiritsis. I hope you checked your fun at the door because this Indianapolis-based quartet isn’t here to make friends. Formed by members of Trenches, Hatesong, and Sundown, Kiritsis’ self-titled debut is here to punch you square in the face and take your lunch money. Over the course of thirty-one minutes, this foursome bludgeons listeners with uncompromisingly heavy doses of abrasive distortion, hard-hitting beats and pure unadulterated anger, all slathered in a blackened layer of Carcass-like filth. Blake Henry’s roars and rasps tear through your speakers with pure vitriol and torment, perfectly complementing Eric Mason’s grim riffing, Bill Scott’s demonic bass growls and Nik Jensen’s weighty drum strikes. “Like the Taste,” “Pissant” and “Deny.Defend.Dispose” embody a Will Haven spirit with a barrage of penetrating, assaulting riffs and pounding half-time slams underpinning Henry’s blood-curdling screams. Meanwhile, the sorrowful and doom-tinged “It Ain’t Easy” and “Thieves and Fools” drag you into anguish-ridden depths, draped in their dark, hopeless atmospheres and plodding facades. You won’t find any overly technical or flashy music here—this is pure hatred and loathing in a tight, cathartic package, meant to blast at high volume while you fuck shit up.

Tyme’s Grungy Gift

Melvins 1983 // Thunderball [April 18th, 2025 – Ipecac Recordings]

Hot on the heels and building off of 2024’s Tarantula Heart, stalwart grunge/sludge rock icon Buzz Osborne has teamed back up with original drummer Mike Dillard for Melvins 1983‘s third release and first in four years, Thunderball. This time around, Osborne and Dillard have partnered with experimental electronic artists Void Manes and Ni Maîtres to deliver yet another in a long line of inimitable, don’t-give-a-fuck-what-you-think releases that have become synonymous with the Melvins brand. As influential a band as any going right now on sludgy noise rock emanating from garages across the world, I take note anytime a new Melvins project hits shelves. With Thunderball, Buzz ‘n company have delivered another tasty morsel packed with some o’ that Houdini-sweet heaviness (“King of Rome”) that sweats grunge like “Negative Creep.” A merging of shimmery post-rock with punky garage rock and bass-laden disso-doom that meanders to a close in a wash of plodding riffs and bleep-bloop electronics, “Victory of the Pyramids” is a decent summation of what you’ll find lurking around most of Thunderball‘s thirty-four minute, five track corners, as Void Manes and Ni Maîtres don’t so much enhance as they incorporate their particular brand of electronica into Thunderball‘s sonic aesthetic. As a newcomer still assimilating into the Melvin hive mind here at AMG, I still have the independent lock-step wherewithal to recommend Melvins 1983‘s Thunderball to those who might have missed it.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Ample Acquisitions

Emma Goldman // All You Are Is We [April 28th, 2025 – Zegema Beach Records]

Sassy is as sassy does or somethin’ like that. If you were wondering whether anarchist icon Emma Goldman came back to life to front a mathcore band, I’m sorry to report that that is not the case. However, if you’re in the ballpark for Canadian punks speedballin’ through skronked-out, strung-out chorus barks with a hundred words trapped in ten seconds, then Emma Goldman will be your ticket to a hot psych ward summer.1 From working class psychosis (“i don’t think much at all,” “this is your brain on minimum wage”) to patchwork insomniac ramblings as loaded as the cut-and-scan cover collage (“at rock bottom i was a piss girl,” “that is the land of lost content”), vocalist Victoria delivers a shredded flurry of barks, nags, and cries that pierce straight through the boomy mix. And though the rhythm guitars and bass pulse and industrial cracklings (particularly the two interlude scratches) register on the lower end of the sound spectrum, a fluid twang and tight, clanging snare find an abrasive balance throughout—two broken tones make a right. In under half an hour, All You Are Is We both breezes by in its effortless flow and brandishes passersby with heart-stained tirades and boiled-over emotion. Along with modern acts like Massa Nera and Blind Girls, Emma Goldman in bold, romantic, and unsettled rage makes a strong case for how true skramz can continue to evolve through rich musicianship, progressive leanings, all while maintaining an adherence to post-indebted builds (“it rubs the boycott ketchup on its brand new slacks,” “that is the land…”). And with a dollop more of that cathartic and capturing energy, Emma Goldman may yet charge with the notoriety of its namesake at the front of this genre pack.

Sonum // The Obscure Light Awaits [April 11th, 2025 – Dusktone]

As a product of a previous filter fetching, I had hoped to provide a lengthier statement on my enjoyment of Sonum’s sophomore outing The Obscure Light Awaits. You see, this Italian act has a knack for supplying death metal that holds true to the origins of dark and twisted riffage while still pushing at edges of richer composition in hypnotic rhythms. As a second attempt at deathly glory, The Obscure Light Awaits shows studio knowledge growth in a drum sound that highlights expansive cymbal textures and quick-turn tom rolls that power the mood-driven world in which Sonum inhabits. And in post-growing melodic builds—the kind of atmosphere that leans dissonant like the Ulcerate-channeling broodings of Devenial Verdict—Sonum shows that mood can swell and explode on the backs of horror-tinged orchestral accompaniment and creaking refrains (“Trapped in the Labyrinth of Aberration,” “Nobody Is Innocent”). Trimmed to a three-piece set for The Obscure Light Awaits, the focus that borders on self-similarity on this extended-length journey feels both intimate and indulgent—the closing psychedelic jam session certainly leans on the latter feeling. But with churning tremolo runs that lead to gruff-toned cries, the majority of what Sonum brings to the table lands in consistent and crushing effort (“In This Void We Dwell,” “Messenger of Cosmic Dread”). As a band still finding their footing in the grander scheme of the death metal universe, Sonum has a sense of identity that gives them a fighting edge. And though The Obscure Light Awaits wears its unique vision a little loose at the waist, its journey is well worth exploring.

Zmarłym // Wielkie Zanikanie [April 18th, 2025 – Godz of War Productions]

Once upon a time, Zmarłym fancied themselves a Polish sadboi act whose turmoil was wrapped in the urban decay of early COVID lockdown measures. And now that we’ve all stepped some distance—a safe distance you might say—away from that reality, Zmarłym has learned that the sad doesn’t dissipate quite that easily. Wielkie Zanikanie finds a familiar malaise in isolation, frustration, and a general defeated nature wrapped up in a longing black metal wane with post-punk and progressive undertones, much like you’d find on a record like Voice’s Frightened or Cursebinder’s Drifting. Blaring synth throbs give way to entrancing drum patterns and phase-shifting vocal howls (“Miejsca,” “Bunt maszyn”). Classic tremolo flurries raze playful energy to set the stage for sinister, blood-soaked cries (“Sny o lataniu,” “Plamy II”). And though a goofy mid-album Killing Joke-indebted romp—even a switch to heavy accent English from the brooding native tongue—threatens to break the sinister ambiance that Zmarłym explores throughout the rest of Wielkie Zanikanie, its soft and bouncy inclusions still find layering amongst smoldering black metal riffage. And as all elements come to join hands in the space-bound, synth squealing crescendo of the closing title track, Zmarłym has delivered an experience full of variety and surprise, curated to bore a hole into a mind searching for melancholy with a sense of adventure and play.

#2025 #Aara #AllYouAreIsWe #AmericanMetal #AncientDeath #Anthrax #Apr25 #BlackMetal #BlindGirls #Carcass #Cursebinder #Death #DeathMetal #DevenialVerdict #Dusktone #EgoDissolution #EmmaGoldman #Exodus #Extinct #FaceTheEnd #GameOver #GodzOfWarProductions #Grunge #Hardcore #Hatesong #IpecacRecordings #ItalianMetal #KillingJoke #Kirtisis #Malphas #MassaNera #Mathcore #MelodicBlackMetal #Melvins #Melvins1983 #Metal #MoonlightSorcery #NiMaîtres #PinkNoiseYouth #PolishMetal #PostBlackMetal #postPunk #PoutRecords #ProfoundLoreRecords #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #ScarletRecords #Screamo #Sludge #SludgeMetal #SludgeRock #Sonum #SoulsellerRecords #StuckInTheFilter #StuckInTheFilter2025 #Sundown #Svnth #Swiss #Testament #TheChasm #TheObscureLightAwaits #TheseHandsMelt #ThrashMetal #Thunderball #Trenches #Ulcerate #Voices #VoidManes #WielkieZanikanie #WillHaven #WiseBloodRecords #ZegemaBeachRecords #Zmarłym

Ash Twin Project – Tales of a Dying Sun Review

By sentynel

Metal has a long history of writing songs inspired by science fiction and fantasy, probably because we’re all a bunch of great big nerds. Outer Wilds is a singular piece of storytelling, a work that couldn’t be told in any medium other than a video game: a story and a series of revelations pieced together from found fragments, with no enforced order or progression beyond what the player finds and assembles. Imagine my excitement when I saw the obviously Outer Wilds-inspired Ash Twin Project appear in the promo queue. Imagine how quickly I mashed the “assign to self” button before any of the other fans on the staff could pinch it.1 I’m going to avoid saying more about the game in this review to minimise spoilers for those who haven’t played it. Just trust me that if you like exploration and stories, you should drop everything and play it. (And avoid listening to the lyrics on this record until you have.)

I hadn’t even stopped to check the genre when I picked up Tales of a Dying Sun, but fortuitously, it’s post-rock/-metal and would have been my thing even without the theme. Ash Twin Project sit on the more melodic and immediate end of the genre. There’s not a huge amount of wandering ambience here, nor of huge, crushing riffs. Their guitar work is nearly always pretty, and the five songs here tend to evolve and reprise through a series of pretty melodies and occasional chugging riffs. There’s even a very prog-rock solo or two (“Cœlacanthe”). It’s very vocal heavy, befitting the narrative goal of the project. Eglantine Dugrand does most of the work with clean singing. She’s occasionally supported by Nicolas Lougnon’s harsh vocals in the traditional hardcore-influenced post-metal style.

Outer Wilds is a very musical game. The soundtrack is excellent, but it’s also important to the gameplay and story in a number of ways. Ash Twin Project have a tricky balance to strike in acknowledging that without simply covering the songs. They pull it off via some generally subtle musical references. Players will find the openings of tracks like “The Wilds,” “Isolation,” and “Sunless City” familiar, and more obviously the end of the album on “Moon.” Tales of a Dying Sun’s flaw is that aside from this, there’s little that makes Ash Twin Project stand out from a surfeit of other post-rock/metal bands. It’s not particularly unique, nor particularly hard-hitting. Post- led by a female vocalist brings obvious comparisons to healthyliving, but ATP aren’t distinctive to the same extent.

I need to highlight Stéphane Cocuron’s work on bass, metal’s most neglected instrument, which is interesting, forward in the mix, and interacts well with the guitars (“Sunless City”). Dugrand is a versatile lead vocalist. The material calls for a variety of tones, from ethereal to sweet to breathy to soaring to a belt, often on the same song (“Cœlacanthe,” “Isolation”), and she spans all these and more without any trouble. I’m not a huge fan of the slight vibrato she uses at times, but it’s hard to complain too much. The lyrics feel like they’re trying a bit too hard a lot of the time—often both overly literal and overly complex (“The Wilds,” “Cœlacanthe”). Nobody listens to metal for the poetic lyrics, but they’re such a big part of what the album is going for, so it’s a bit disappointing.

Tales of a Dying Sun is good. It’s melodic post-metal done well. It does a commendable job of referencing its source material in a way that tickles the brain without being derivative of it. Dugrand does a lot of the work carrying the album and does it well. But in the end, the connection with the game made me want to like this more than I actually do. I like it, but it’s not unique enough or hard-hitting enough to climb my year-end list.

Rating: Good
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Klonosphere Records
Websites: ashtwinproject.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/ashtwinprojectband
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #AshTwinProject #FrenchMetal #healthyliving #KlonosphereRecords #PostRock #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #TalesOfADyingSun

Supreme Void – Towards Oblivion Review

By Owlswald

Relative newcomers Supreme Void began their journey as Depravity in 2016, releasing a couple of EPs over a five-year period, culminating with 2021’s End of Games. The EP delivered a familiar slab of Polish death metal, packed with the aggression, technicality, and power that flagbearers like Behemoth and Hate have long championed. Presumably realizing the existence of numerous other bands named Depravity, the trio changed their name to Supreme Void in 2023, coinciding with their signing to French label Dolorem Records, who then re-released End of Games under the new moniker. Now, Supreme Void’s debut full-length, Towards Oblivion, aims to fuse the brutal, fast and specialized Polish sound with the dissonant and stylish tendencies of the likes of Ulcerate and Gorguts—a conceptually intriguing and ambitious endeavor that tests Supreme Void’s ability to carve out their own niche within a formidable death metal landscape.

Like a murkier Hate colliding with the ominous atmosphere of Ulcerate and groovier ambitions of Replicant, Towards Oblivion oscillates between crushing weight and morose, undulating passages. Strategically placed starts, stops, and tempo changes enhance Supreme Void’s varying moods and textures as eight-string guitar provides conquering low-end and drums pummel everything into dust with devastating precision. Exile’s monstrous roars blanket Supreme Void’s underlying chaos with a thick layer of demonic miasma while the grim rumble of bass rounds out the trio’s vast and immersive sound. Opener “Remnants of Hope” is a fitting representation of what to expect on Towards Oblivion with Ravager’s cacophonous arpeggiations, blazing tremolos, and mammoth chugs shifting and writhing with Cyklon’s syncopated eruptions and Exile’s massive roars. Benefiting once again from excellent production, Supreme Void crafts a dissonant and heavy soundscape marked by writhing tension.

Supreme Void’s powerful guitar-drum attack drives Towards Oblivion’s sinister manifestation with colossal might, binding twists, turns, and jolts into an intense and turbulent auditory assault. Tracks like “Sustained by Malice” and “Eclipse of the Exalted” contrast storms of discordant chords, thrashy riffs, and machine-like rhythms with trudging grooves, enigmatic hooks, and dark atmospheric transitions that are off-kilter but also captivating. Tasteful solos (“Embrace Extinction,” “Dissolution of Power,” “Repulse Manifesto”) showcase both technical skill and emotional vision while Meshuggah-esque drawls and plodding hits drag you further into the abyss. Cyklon’s drumming is outstanding—his menacing blasts and kicks melding with darting tempos, grooving transitions, and flickering cymbal flares augment Exile and Ravager’s swirling arpeggiated dissensions and percussive shredding. Unleashing terror, Exile’s growls saturate everything with an ardent layer of filth, effortlessly tearing through the instrumental mass. The production enhances everything, granting the material the necessary space to exude its qualities while allowing each piece of Supreme Void’s sonic onslaught to shine through with refreshing clarity.

For all of Supreme Void’s merits, Towards Oblivion is sometimes challenged by a sense of imbalance across its thirty-eight-minute runtime. “Repulse Manifesto” follows a less compelling arc as “Dissolution of Power” or “Remnants of Hope,” for example, which fully realize Supreme Void’s immersive qualities. Beginning with a subdued militaristic-like primer that feels like it should be a separate interlude, the track takes too long to develop before surging into its more convincing second half. While this hints at Supreme Void’s ability to command a “slow burn” style of songwriting, the execution is awkward and affects the song’s course. Additionally, closer “Embrace Extinction” lacks the same memorable hooks as Towards Oblivion’s stronger compositions, and “Eclipse of the Exalted” feels a bit overlong, largely due to the song’s cyclical back end.

Despite these stumbles, however, Towards Oblivion finds Supreme Void delivering a strong debut that effectively merges the ferocious sounds of Polish death metal with the dark, ominous tones of today’s disso-death scene. The young trio’s dynamic interplay of crushing heaviness, shifting tempos, maddening dissonance, and technical skill—particularly the one-two punch of the guitars and drums—is enveloping and will appeal to fans across the ever-widening death metal spectrum. Although Towards Oblivion occasionally trips at asserting its vigor, Supreme Void’s clear command of aural intensity, coupled with their ambition, serves as a gateway for them to rip open the abyss with reckless abandon in the future. I, for one, will be eagerly waiting to venture into the void again.

Rating: Good!
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Dolorem Records | Bandcamp
Websites: supremevoid.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/supremevoid
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #Behemoth #DeathMetal #Depravity #DissonantDeathMetal #DoloremRecords #Gorguts #Hate #Meshuggah #PolishMetal #ProgressiveDeath #Replicant #Review #Reviews #SupremeVoid #TowardsOblivion #Ulcerate

Supreme Void – Towards Oblivion Review

By Owlswald

Relative newcomers Supreme Void began their journey as Depravity in 2016, releasing a couple of EPs over a five-year period, culminating with 2021’s End of Games. The EP delivered a familiar slab of Polish death metal, packed with the aggression, technicality, and power that flagbearers like Behemoth and Hate have long championed. Presumably realizing the existence of numerous other bands named Depravity, the trio changed their name to Supreme Void in 2023, coinciding with their signing to French label Dolorem Records, who then re-released End of Games under the new moniker. Now, Supreme Void’s debut full-length, Towards Oblivion, aims to fuse the brutal, fast and specialized Polish sound with the dissonant and stylish tendencies of the likes of Ulcerate and Gorguts—a conceptually intriguing and ambitious endeavor that tests Supreme Void’s ability to carve out their own niche within a formidable death metal landscape.

Like a murkier Hate colliding with the ominous atmosphere of Ulcerate and groovier ambitions of Replicant, Towards Oblivion oscillates between crushing weight and morose, undulating passages. Strategically placed starts, stops, and tempo changes enhance Supreme Void’s varying moods and textures as eight-string guitar provides conquering low-end and drums pummel everything into dust with devastating precision. Exile’s monstrous roars blanket Supreme Void’s underlying chaos with a thick layer of demonic miasma while the grim rumble of bass rounds out the trio’s vast and immersive sound. Opener “Remnants of Hope” is a fitting representation of what to expect on Towards Oblivion with Ravager’s cacophonous arpeggiations, blazing tremolos, and mammoth chugs shifting and writhing with Cyklon’s syncopated eruptions and Exile’s massive roars. Benefiting once again from excellent production, Supreme Void crafts a dissonant and heavy soundscape marked by writhing tension.

Supreme Void’s powerful guitar-drum attack drives Towards Oblivion’s sinister manifestation with colossal might, binding twists, turns, and jolts into an intense and turbulent auditory assault. Tracks like “Sustained by Malice” and “Eclipse of the Exalted” contrast storms of discordant chords, thrashy riffs, and machine-like rhythms with trudging grooves, enigmatic hooks, and dark atmospheric transitions that are off-kilter but also captivating. Tasteful solos (“Embrace Extinction,” “Dissolution of Power,” “Repulse Manifesto”) showcase both technical skill and emotional vision while Meshuggah-esque drawls and plodding hits drag you further into the abyss. Cyklon’s drumming is outstanding—his menacing blasts and kicks melding with darting tempos, grooving transitions, and flickering cymbal flares augment Exile and Ravager’s swirling arpeggiated dissensions and percussive shredding. Unleashing terror, Exile’s growls saturate everything with an ardent layer of filth, effortlessly tearing through the instrumental mass. The production enhances everything, granting the material the necessary space to exude its qualities while allowing each piece of Supreme Void’s sonic onslaught to shine through with refreshing clarity.

For all of Supreme Void’s merits, Towards Oblivion is sometimes challenged by a sense of imbalance across its thirty-eight-minute runtime. “Repulse Manifesto” follows a less compelling arc as “Dissolution of Power” or “Remnants of Hope,” for example, which fully realize Supreme Void’s immersive qualities. Beginning with a subdued militaristic-like primer that feels like it should be a separate interlude, the track takes too long to develop before surging into its more convincing second half. While this hints at Supreme Void’s ability to command a “slow burn” style of songwriting, the execution is awkward and affects the song’s course. Additionally, closer “Embrace Extinction” lacks the same memorable hooks as Towards Oblivion’s stronger compositions, and “Eclipse of the Exalted” feels a bit overlong, largely due to the song’s cyclical back end.

Despite these stumbles, however, Towards Oblivion finds Supreme Void delivering a strong debut that effectively merges the ferocious sounds of Polish death metal with the dark, ominous tones of today’s disso-death scene. The young trio’s dynamic interplay of crushing heaviness, shifting tempos, maddening dissonance, and technical skill—particularly the one-two punch of the guitars and drums—is enveloping and will appeal to fans across the ever-widening death metal spectrum. Although Towards Oblivion occasionally trips at asserting its vigor, Supreme Void’s clear command of aural intensity, coupled with their ambition, serves as a gateway for them to rip open the abyss with reckless abandon in the future. I, for one, will be eagerly waiting to venture into the void again.

Rating: Good!
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Dolorem Records | Bandcamp
Websites: supremevoid.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/supremevoid
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #Behemoth #DeathMetal #Depravity #DissonantDeathMetal #DoloremRecords #Gorguts #Hate #Meshuggah #PolishMetal #ProgressiveDeath #Replicant #Review #Reviews #SupremeVoid #TowardsOblivion #Ulcerate

Supreme Void – Towards Oblivion Review

By Owlswald

Relative newcomers Supreme Void began their journey as Depravity in 2016, releasing a couple of EPs over a five-year period, culminating with 2021’s End of Games. The EP delivered a familiar slab of Polish death metal, packed with the aggression, technicality, and power that flagbearers like Behemoth and Hate have long championed. Presumably realizing the existence of numerous other bands named Depravity, the trio changed their name to Supreme Void in 2023, coinciding with their signing to French label Dolorem Records, who then re-released End of Games under the new moniker. Now, Supreme Void’s debut full-length, Towards Oblivion, aims to fuse the brutal, fast and specialized Polish sound with the dissonant and stylish tendencies of the likes of Ulcerate and Gorguts—a conceptually intriguing and ambitious endeavor that tests Supreme Void’s ability to carve out their own niche within a formidable death metal landscape.

Like a murkier Hate colliding with the ominous atmosphere of Ulcerate and groovier ambitions of Replicant, Towards Oblivion oscillates between crushing weight and morose, undulating passages. Strategically placed starts, stops, and tempo changes enhance Supreme Void’s varying moods and textures as eight-string guitar provides conquering low-end and drums pummel everything into dust with devastating precision. Exile’s monstrous roars blanket Supreme Void’s underlying chaos with a thick layer of demonic miasma while the grim rumble of bass rounds out the trio’s vast and immersive sound. Opener “Remnants of Hope” is a fitting representation of what to expect on Towards Oblivion with Ravager’s cacophonous arpeggiations, blazing tremolos, and mammoth chugs shifting and writhing with Cyklon’s syncopated eruptions and Exile’s massive roars. Benefiting once again from excellent production, Supreme Void crafts a dissonant and heavy soundscape marked by writhing tension.

Supreme Void’s powerful guitar-drum attack drives Towards Oblivion’s sinister manifestation with colossal might, binding twists, turns, and jolts into an intense and turbulent auditory assault. Tracks like “Sustained by Malice” and “Eclipse of the Exalted” contrast storms of discordant chords, thrashy riffs, and machine-like rhythms with trudging grooves, enigmatic hooks, and dark atmospheric transitions that are off-kilter but also captivating. Tasteful solos (“Embrace Extinction,” “Dissolution of Power,” “Repulse Manifesto”) showcase both technical skill and emotional vision while Meshuggah-esque drawls and plodding hits drag you further into the abyss. Cyklon’s drumming is outstanding—his menacing blasts and kicks melding with darting tempos, grooving transitions, and flickering cymbal flares augment Exile and Ravager’s swirling arpeggiated dissensions and percussive shredding. Unleashing terror, Exile’s growls saturate everything with an ardent layer of filth, effortlessly tearing through the instrumental mass. The production enhances everything, granting the material the necessary space to exude its qualities while allowing each piece of Supreme Void’s sonic onslaught to shine through with refreshing clarity.

For all of Supreme Void’s merits, Towards Oblivion is sometimes challenged by a sense of imbalance across its thirty-eight-minute runtime. “Repulse Manifesto” follows a less compelling arc as “Dissolution of Power” or “Remnants of Hope,” for example, which fully realize Supreme Void’s immersive qualities. Beginning with a subdued militaristic-like primer that feels like it should be a separate interlude, the track takes too long to develop before surging into its more convincing second half. While this hints at Supreme Void’s ability to command a “slow burn” style of songwriting, the execution is awkward and affects the song’s course. Additionally, closer “Embrace Extinction” lacks the same memorable hooks as Towards Oblivion’s stronger compositions, and “Eclipse of the Exalted” feels a bit overlong, largely due to the song’s cyclical back end.

Despite these stumbles, however, Towards Oblivion finds Supreme Void delivering a strong debut that effectively merges the ferocious sounds of Polish death metal with the dark, ominous tones of today’s disso-death scene. The young trio’s dynamic interplay of crushing heaviness, shifting tempos, maddening dissonance, and technical skill—particularly the one-two punch of the guitars and drums—is enveloping and will appeal to fans across the ever-widening death metal spectrum. Although Towards Oblivion occasionally trips at asserting its vigor, Supreme Void’s clear command of aural intensity, coupled with their ambition, serves as a gateway for them to rip open the abyss with reckless abandon in the future. I, for one, will be eagerly waiting to venture into the void again.

Rating: Good!
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Dolorem Records | Bandcamp
Websites: supremevoid.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/supremevoid
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #Behemoth #DeathMetal #Depravity #DissonantDeathMetal #DoloremRecords #Gorguts #Hate #Meshuggah #PolishMetal #ProgressiveDeath #Replicant #Review #Reviews #SupremeVoid #TowardsOblivion #Ulcerate

Supreme Void – Towards Oblivion Review

By Owlswald

Relative newcomers Supreme Void began their journey as Depravity in 2016, releasing a couple of EPs over a five-year period, culminating with 2021’s End of Games. The EP delivered a familiar slab of Polish death metal, packed with the aggression, technicality, and power that flagbearers like Behemoth and Hate have long championed. Presumably realizing the existence of numerous other bands named Depravity, the trio changed their name to Supreme Void in 2023, coinciding with their signing to French label Dolorem Records, who then re-released End of Games under the new moniker. Now, Supreme Void’s debut full-length, Towards Oblivion, aims to fuse the brutal, fast and specialized Polish sound with the dissonant and stylish tendencies of the likes of Ulcerate and Gorguts—a conceptually intriguing and ambitious endeavor that tests Supreme Void’s ability to carve out their own niche within a formidable death metal landscape.

Like a murkier Hate colliding with the ominous atmosphere of Ulcerate and groovier ambitions of Replicant, Towards Oblivion oscillates between crushing weight and morose, undulating passages. Strategically placed starts, stops, and tempo changes enhance Supreme Void’s varying moods and textures as eight-string guitar provides conquering low-end and drums pummel everything into dust with devastating precision. Exile’s monstrous roars blanket Supreme Void’s underlying chaos with a thick layer of demonic miasma while the grim rumble of bass rounds out the trio’s vast and immersive sound. Opener “Remnants of Hope” is a fitting representation of what to expect on Towards Oblivion with Ravager’s cacophonous arpeggiations, blazing tremolos, and mammoth chugs shifting and writhing with Cyklon’s syncopated eruptions and Exile’s massive roars. Benefiting once again from excellent production, Supreme Void crafts a dissonant and heavy soundscape marked by writhing tension.

Supreme Void’s powerful guitar-drum attack drives Towards Oblivion’s sinister manifestation with colossal might, binding twists, turns, and jolts into an intense and turbulent auditory assault. Tracks like “Sustained by Malice” and “Eclipse of the Exalted” contrast storms of discordant chords, thrashy riffs, and machine-like rhythms with trudging grooves, enigmatic hooks, and dark atmospheric transitions that are off-kilter but also captivating. Tasteful solos (“Embrace Extinction,” “Dissolution of Power,” “Repulse Manifesto”) showcase both technical skill and emotional vision while Meshuggah-esque drawls and plodding hits drag you further into the abyss. Cyklon’s drumming is outstanding—his menacing blasts and kicks melding with darting tempos, grooving transitions, and flickering cymbal flares augment Exile and Ravager’s swirling arpeggiated dissensions and percussive shredding. Unleashing terror, Exile’s growls saturate everything with an ardent layer of filth, effortlessly tearing through the instrumental mass. The production enhances everything, granting the material the necessary space to exude its qualities while allowing each piece of Supreme Void’s sonic onslaught to shine through with refreshing clarity.

For all of Supreme Void’s merits, Towards Oblivion is sometimes challenged by a sense of imbalance across its thirty-eight-minute runtime. “Repulse Manifesto” follows a less compelling arc as “Dissolution of Power” or “Remnants of Hope,” for example, which fully realize Supreme Void’s immersive qualities. Beginning with a subdued militaristic-like primer that feels like it should be a separate interlude, the track takes too long to develop before surging into its more convincing second half. While this hints at Supreme Void’s ability to command a “slow burn” style of songwriting, the execution is awkward and affects the song’s course. Additionally, closer “Embrace Extinction” lacks the same memorable hooks as Towards Oblivion’s stronger compositions, and “Eclipse of the Exalted” feels a bit overlong, largely due to the song’s cyclical back end.

Despite these stumbles, however, Towards Oblivion finds Supreme Void delivering a strong debut that effectively merges the ferocious sounds of Polish death metal with the dark, ominous tones of today’s disso-death scene. The young trio’s dynamic interplay of crushing heaviness, shifting tempos, maddening dissonance, and technical skill—particularly the one-two punch of the guitars and drums—is enveloping and will appeal to fans across the ever-widening death metal spectrum. Although Towards Oblivion occasionally trips at asserting its vigor, Supreme Void’s clear command of aural intensity, coupled with their ambition, serves as a gateway for them to rip open the abyss with reckless abandon in the future. I, for one, will be eagerly waiting to venture into the void again.

Rating: Good!
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Dolorem Records | Bandcamp
Websites: supremevoid.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/supremevoid
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #Behemoth #DeathMetal #Depravity #DissonantDeathMetal #DoloremRecords #Gorguts #Hate #Meshuggah #PolishMetal #ProgressiveDeath #Replicant #Review #Reviews #SupremeVoid #TowardsOblivion #Ulcerate

Phantom – Tyrants of Wrath Review

By Tyme

Vampires and castles and axes, oh my! In addition to a love for the video game Castlevania, these are some of the favorite things for Guadalajara, Mexico’s Phantom, reflected in the cool Meagan Lemay cover art. I had a fair amount of fun with Phantom‘s 2023 debut album, Handed to Execution. It’s a tasty little slab of thrashy speed metal that took me back to the halcyon days of Kill ‘Em All Metallica and Show No Mercy Slayer. When I saw Phantom‘s follow-up, Tyrants of Wrath, floating around in the sump pit, I waded into Castle de AMG’s mucky moat, battling tentacled meanies and dodging Grier‘s skid mark-ruined speedos to retrieve it. I was eager to find out if Tyrants of Wrath would fill me with war lust and have me storming the gates or leave me non-plussed and in my cups, lazily slumped next to a fire.

Tyrants of Wrath sounds straight out of 1985 and finds Phantom tweaking the more straightforward formula used on Handed to Execution. Carryover traces of early Metallica and Slayer, with some Kreator and Razor bits thrown in for good measure, remain intact as forays into trad-metal, second-wave black metal, and atmospheric organ/piano interludes attempt to expand Phantom‘s overall sonicscape. JC Necrohex and Harel Mortem fly across fretboards in flurries of furious riffs and chaotic lead work, imbuing early tracks like “The Tower of Seth” and “Violent Invasion” with raw, thrashy, speed metal intensity that lands just this side of completely unhinged. The chorus to the Midnight-fueled banger “Thunderbeast” will have you pounding your chest, eager to make war, not love. JC’s vocals remain on point for the style, pairing blackened growls ala Kreator‘s Endless Pain-era Ventor mixed with high-pitched screams that would put a smile on Tom Araya’s face. Rair Tavizon provides pounding bass lines, and JP Alatorre rounds out the rhythm section, turning in a serviceable drum performance that mostly corrals Phantom‘s chaotic acrobatics, but not always. With more expansive songwriting and experimentation, Tyrants of Wrath is the product of a young band broadening its musical horizons.

The ambition of Phantom‘s vision exceeds the resources available to execute it successfully. While the front edge of Tyrants‘ sword does positive damage, holes in the castle’s defenses start to show when “Nimbus” rolls around. Meant as a traditional nod toward old-school influences like Manilla Road and Heavy Load, the track suffers from weak instrumentation—its strongest pulse some Maiden-esque dual guitar leads—and clean vocals that never stretch from their narrow baritone range, hobbling with broken wings, a track meant to soar like an eagle. Add in the amateurish, Egyptian-tinged “Lost in the Sands,” where the guitars and drums fall entirely out of sync and distract rather than charm, to the very awkwardly performed, ill-flowing piano interlude “Nocturnal Opus 666,” and it’s clear Phantom is unable to stretch far enough to fulfill Tyrants of Wrath‘s intended goal.

With a runtime of just over forty-eight minutes, Tyrants of Wrath is far from the brevity of Handed to Execution, which is disappointing because the unrealized gains of Phantom‘s experimentation lead to this bloat. That’s not to say every experiment fails, as the spooky intro, spunky-punk bass, and tremolo strumming of “Dance of the Spiders” works in a mostly non-Phantom way, and closer “Dark Wings of Death,” an excellent amalgamation of speed-thrashy chugs and trad-heavy, war horse galloping riffs make for a trver representation of what an evolved Phantom is capable of. I’m happy my active listening of “Dark Wings of Death” allowed me to reach that conclusion since, sadly, the fatigue I felt during my initial, traditionally linear listening sessions left me apathetic to this last song’s successful charms.

Phantom is a fun and very young band, which works in their favor as they continue to evolve and find their footing. Handed to Execution was a nostalgically compelling and raucously promising debut. While I think Tyrants of Wrath, despite its expansive intentions, sees Phantom take a step back, there’s a lot to look forward to as well. I commend these youngsters for having the courage to look beyond the relative success of their previous effort to do something exactly as they want. There are glimpses on Tyrants of Wrath of what a more mature third Phantom outing could sound like, and you can bet I’ll be there to listen to it.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #HighRollerRecords #Kreator #Metallica #MexicanMetal #Phantom #Razor #Review #Reviews #Slayer #SpeedMetal #ThrashMetal #TyrantsOfWrath

https://www.europesays.com/uk/74181/ Vomitizer – Release the Rats Review #2025 #3.0 #Apr25 #BlackMetal #BoltThrower #Chton #Cleaver #Corroder #Crowbar #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Eyehategod #GhettoGhouls #Immortal #music #NorwegianMetal #ReleaseTheRats #Review #Reviews #UK #UndercoverRecords #UnitedKingdom #Vomitizer #Vomitrot

Vomitizer – Release the Rats Review

By Mark Z.

I’m this site’s resident “vomit” guy. I didn’t choose this life, it chose me. Nonetheless, I take my duties seriously, and when I see a band in the promo bin with “vomit” in the name, I know I have to review it (even if I’m a fucking week late in doing so). So it was with Vomitrot, so it was with the bands before them, and so it is with Vomitizer. Formed in 2023, this dirty Norwegian group bring with them experience in many other metal bands I’ve never heard of, including Chton, Corroder, Cleaver, and Ghetto Ghouls. Release the Rats is the band’s debut album and is described as “a concept album telling an apocalyptic story about how the world rots through fanatics, pestilence and the pure evil of mankind.” I question the need to even listen to this record given that this “story” seems to just be everyday life these days, but such are my solemn duties as this site’s designated vomit scholar. Fortunately, while Vomitizer deliver the nastiness you’d expect from their name, they also offer a few surprises that make for a decent little romp through the filth of the world.

At its core, Release the Rats is a death metal album, though Vomitizer often incorporate ideas that cause this putrid pile to ooze over stylistic borders. The ragged, chunky riffs that serve as the album’s building blocks remind me of a certain thrower of bolts, while the manic, phlegmy rasp of vocalist “PeTerror” likewise feels most firmly rooted in the death metal genre. Yet atop this foundation, you have more atypical moments, like the sharp clean picking that appears in the chorus of the opener, “A Wonderful World to Destroy,” and the verses of the second track, “Rat Religion.” Both “Rat Religion” and a later highlight, “Something Dark and Bloody Did Indeed Occur,” also venture even further from the metal of death, incorporating frostier progressions that evoke the blackened spirit of Immortal’s Sons of Northern Darkness.

Though the sound is raw and unkempt, Vomitizer’s ability to craft direct and memorable songs causes them to be successful regardless of exactly what style they’re playing. “The Church of Rats” slows things to a more shambling pace early in the runtime, yet the switchup feels entirely welcome at that point in the album, and the song’s big, dominant chords ultimately make for a solid tune. Later, “The Reek of Death” again slows things down but takes a sludgier approach in doing so, sounding like what would probably happen if Bolt Thrower drank Eyehategod’s bath water. Perhaps the oddest switchup comes in “Indulge into Chaos,” which features gruff, semi-clean vocals that sound something like Crowbar. Through it all, the band have a snotty, anything-goes attitude that’s hard not to find at least somewhat endearing.

Though nothing here is bad, the album is hampered a bit by a lack of consistency. After opening with three of its strongest songs, the record immediately gives us some of its weakest. Compared to the opening cuts, “Pestilence (the Sickness)” is much shorter and feels like it could have used more time in the incubator. “Rattus Rittualis” is also a misstep. The two-minute song is essentially an extended buildup, making it sound more like an album intro that was accidentally placed as the fourth track. Later, “Raw Meat” barrels forward with lots of energy but little impact. Through it all, the production gets the job done, with an unpolished sound that presents everything clearly without doing anything special. Fortunately, the closer, “Wicked Supremacy,” ends things in a strong fashion, with its groaning tremolos and catchy chugs coming the closest to evoking the trve glory of Bolt Thrower.

Ultimately, Release the Rats sounds like one of those fun little records that you randomly discover years after its release and are happy you did so, even if it doesn’t quite rise to the level of “hidden gem.” I appreciate the album’s memorability, diversity, and quality riffs, but the occasionally undercooked compositions hold it back a bit. Nonetheless, even if Vomitizer seem more obsessed with rodents than retching up last night’s dinner, they’re still more than worthy of the “vomit” name, and those looking for an eclectic and enjoyable batch of extreme metal tunes could find far worse ways to spend 34 minutes.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 128 kbps mp3
Label: Undercover Records
Websites: Facebook | instagram.com/vomitizerofficial
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #BlackMetal #BoltThrower #Chton #Cleaver #Corroder #Crowbar #DeathMetal #Eyehategod #GhettoGhouls #Immortal #NorwegianMetal #ReleaseTheRats #Review #Reviews #UndercoverRecords #Vomitizer #Vomitrot

Vomitizer – Release the Rats Review

By Mark Z.

I’m this site’s resident “vomit” guy. I didn’t choose this life, it chose me. Nonetheless, I take my duties seriously, and when I see a band in the promo bin with “vomit” in the name, I know I have to review it (even if I’m a fucking week late in doing so). So it was with Vomitrot, so it was with the bands before them, and so it is with Vomitizer. Formed in 2023, this dirty Norwegian group bring with them experience in many other metal bands I’ve never heard of, including Chton, Corroder, Cleaver, and Ghetto Ghouls. Release the Rats is the band’s debut album and is described as “a concept album telling an apocalyptic story about how the world rots through fanatics, pestilence and the pure evil of mankind.” I question the need to even listen to this record given that this “story” seems to just be everyday life these days, but such are my solemn duties as this site’s designated vomit scholar. Fortunately, while Vomitizer deliver the nastiness you’d expect from their name, they also offer a few surprises that make for a decent little romp through the filth of the world.

At its core, Release the Rats is a death metal album, though Vomitizer often incorporate ideas that cause this putrid pile to ooze over stylistic borders. The ragged, chunky riffs that serve as the album’s building blocks remind me of a certain thrower of bolts, while the manic, phlegmy rasp of vocalist “PeTerror” likewise feels most firmly rooted in the death metal genre. Yet atop this foundation, you have more atypical moments, like the sharp clean picking that appears in the chorus of the opener, “A Wonderful World to Destroy,” and the verses of the second track, “Rat Religion.” Both “Rat Religion” and a later highlight, “Something Dark and Bloody Did Indeed Occur,” also venture even further from the metal of death, incorporating frostier progressions that evoke the blackened spirit of Immortal’s Sons of Northern Darkness.

Though the sound is raw and unkempt, Vomitizer’s ability to craft direct and memorable songs causes them to be successful regardless of exactly what style they’re playing. “The Church of Rats” slows things to a more shambling pace early in the runtime, yet the switchup feels entirely welcome at that point in the album, and the song’s big, dominant chords ultimately make for a solid tune. Later, “The Reek of Death” again slows things down but takes a sludgier approach in doing so, sounding like what would probably happen if Bolt Thrower drank Eyehategod’s bath water. Perhaps the oddest switchup comes in “Indulge into Chaos,” which features gruff, semi-clean vocals that sound something like Crowbar. Through it all, the band have a snotty, anything-goes attitude that’s hard not to find at least somewhat endearing.

Though nothing here is bad, the album is hampered a bit by a lack of consistency. After opening with three of its strongest songs, the record immediately gives us some of its weakest. Compared to the opening cuts, “Pestilence (the Sickness)” is much shorter and feels like it could have used more time in the incubator. “Rattus Rittualis” is also a misstep. The two-minute song is essentially an extended buildup, making it sound more like an album intro that was accidentally placed as the fourth track. Later, “Raw Meat” barrels forward with lots of energy but little impact. Through it all, the production gets the job done, with an unpolished sound that presents everything clearly without doing anything special. Fortunately, the closer, “Wicked Supremacy,” ends things in a strong fashion, with its groaning tremolos and catchy chugs coming the closest to evoking the trve glory of Bolt Thrower.

Ultimately, Release the Rats sounds like one of those fun little records that you randomly discover years after its release and are happy you did so, even if it doesn’t quite rise to the level of “hidden gem.” I appreciate the album’s memorability, diversity, and quality riffs, but the occasionally undercooked compositions hold it back a bit. Nonetheless, even if Vomitizer seem more obsessed with rodents than retching up last night’s dinner, they’re still more than worthy of the “vomit” name, and those looking for an eclectic and enjoyable batch of extreme metal tunes could find far worse ways to spend 34 minutes.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 128 kbps mp3
Label: Undercover Records
Websites: Facebook | instagram.com/vomitizerofficial
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #BlackMetal #BoltThrower #Chton #Cleaver #Corroder #Crowbar #DeathMetal #Eyehategod #GhettoGhouls #Immortal #NorwegianMetal #ReleaseTheRats #Review #Reviews #UndercoverRecords #Vomitizer #Vomitrot

Vomitizer – Release the Rats Review

By Mark Z.

I’m this site’s resident “vomit” guy. I didn’t choose this life, it chose me. Nonetheless, I take my duties seriously, and when I see a band in the promo bin with “vomit” in the name, I know I have to review it (even if I’m a fucking week late in doing so). So it was with Vomitrot, so it was with the bands before them, and so it is with Vomitizer. Formed in 2023, this dirty Norwegian group bring with them experience in many other metal bands I’ve never heard of, including Chton, Corroder, Cleaver, and Ghetto Ghouls. Release the Rats is the band’s debut album and is described as “a concept album telling an apocalyptic story about how the world rots through fanatics, pestilence and the pure evil of mankind.” I question the need to even listen to this record given that this “story” seems to just be everyday life these days, but such are my solemn duties as this site’s designated vomit scholar. Fortunately, while Vomitizer deliver the nastiness you’d expect from their name, they also offer a few surprises that make for a decent little romp through the filth of the world.

At its core, Release the Rats is a death metal album, though Vomitizer often incorporate ideas that cause this putrid pile to ooze over stylistic borders. The ragged, chunky riffs that serve as the album’s building blocks remind me of a certain thrower of bolts, while the manic, phlegmy rasp of vocalist “PeTerror” likewise feels most firmly rooted in the death metal genre. Yet atop this foundation, you have more atypical moments, like the sharp clean picking that appears in the chorus of the opener, “A Wonderful World to Destroy,” and the verses of the second track, “Rat Religion.” Both “Rat Religion” and a later highlight, “Something Dark and Bloody Did Indeed Occur,” also venture even further from the metal of death, incorporating frostier progressions that evoke the blackened spirit of Immortal’s Sons of Northern Darkness.

Though the sound is raw and unkempt, Vomitizer’s ability to craft direct and memorable songs causes them to be successful regardless of exactly what style they’re playing. “The Church of Rats” slows things to a more shambling pace early in the runtime, yet the switchup feels entirely welcome at that point in the album, and the song’s big, dominant chords ultimately make for a solid tune. Later, “The Reek of Death” again slows things down but takes a sludgier approach in doing so, sounding like what would probably happen if Bolt Thrower drank Eyehategod’s bath water. Perhaps the oddest switchup comes in “Indulge into Chaos,” which features gruff, semi-clean vocals that sound something like Crowbar. Through it all, the band have a snotty, anything-goes attitude that’s hard not to find at least somewhat endearing.

Though nothing here is bad, the album is hampered a bit by a lack of consistency. After opening with three of its strongest songs, the record immediately gives us some of its weakest. Compared to the opening cuts, “Pestilence (the Sickness)” is much shorter and feels like it could have used more time in the incubator. “Rattus Rittualis” is also a misstep. The two-minute song is essentially an extended buildup, making it sound more like an album intro that was accidentally placed as the fourth track. Later, “Raw Meat” barrels forward with lots of energy but little impact. Through it all, the production gets the job done, with an unpolished sound that presents everything clearly without doing anything special. Fortunately, the closer, “Wicked Supremacy,” ends things in a strong fashion, with its groaning tremolos and catchy chugs coming the closest to evoking the trve glory of Bolt Thrower.

Ultimately, Release the Rats sounds like one of those fun little records that you randomly discover years after its release and are happy you did so, even if it doesn’t quite rise to the level of “hidden gem.” I appreciate the album’s memorability, diversity, and quality riffs, but the occasionally undercooked compositions hold it back a bit. Nonetheless, even if Vomitizer seem more obsessed with rodents than retching up last night’s dinner, they’re still more than worthy of the “vomit” name, and those looking for an eclectic and enjoyable batch of extreme metal tunes could find far worse ways to spend 34 minutes.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 128 kbps mp3
Label: Undercover Records
Websites: Facebook | instagram.com/vomitizerofficial
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #BlackMetal #BoltThrower #Chton #Cleaver #Corroder #Crowbar #DeathMetal #Eyehategod #GhettoGhouls #Immortal #NorwegianMetal #ReleaseTheRats #Review #Reviews #UndercoverRecords #Vomitizer #Vomitrot

Vomitizer – Release the Rats Review

By Mark Z.

I’m this site’s resident “vomit” guy. I didn’t choose this life, it chose me. Nonetheless, I take my duties seriously, and when I see a band in the promo bin with “vomit” in the name, I know I have to review it (even if I’m a fucking week late in doing so). So it was with Vomitrot, so it was with the bands before them, and so it is with Vomitizer. Formed in 2023, this dirty Norwegian group bring with them experience in many other metal bands I’ve never heard of, including Chton, Corroder, Cleaver, and Ghetto Ghouls. Release the Rats is the band’s debut album and is described as “a concept album telling an apocalyptic story about how the world rots through fanatics, pestilence and the pure evil of mankind.” I question the need to even listen to this record given that this “story” seems to just be everyday life these days, but such are my solemn duties as this site’s designated vomit scholar. Fortunately, while Vomitizer deliver the nastiness you’d expect from their name, they also offer a few surprises that make for a decent little romp through the filth of the world.

At its core, Release the Rats is a death metal album, though Vomitizer often incorporate ideas that cause this putrid pile to ooze over stylistic borders. The ragged, chunky riffs that serve as the album’s building blocks remind me of a certain thrower of bolts, while the manic, phlegmy rasp of vocalist “PeTerror” likewise feels most firmly rooted in the death metal genre. Yet atop this foundation, you have more atypical moments, like the sharp clean picking that appears in the chorus of the opener, “A Wonderful World to Destroy,” and the verses of the second track, “Rat Religion.” Both “Rat Religion” and a later highlight, “Something Dark and Bloody Did Indeed Occur,” also venture even further from the metal of death, incorporating frostier progressions that evoke the blackened spirit of Immortal’s Sons of Northern Darkness.

Though the sound is raw and unkempt, Vomitizer’s ability to craft direct and memorable songs causes them to be successful regardless of exactly what style they’re playing. “The Church of Rats” slows things to a more shambling pace early in the runtime, yet the switchup feels entirely welcome at that point in the album, and the song’s big, dominant chords ultimately make for a solid tune. Later, “The Reek of Death” again slows things down but takes a sludgier approach in doing so, sounding like what would probably happen if Bolt Thrower drank Eyehategod’s bath water. Perhaps the oddest switchup comes in “Indulge into Chaos,” which features gruff, semi-clean vocals that sound something like Crowbar. Through it all, the band have a snotty, anything-goes attitude that’s hard not to find at least somewhat endearing.

Though nothing here is bad, the album is hampered a bit by a lack of consistency. After opening with three of its strongest songs, the record immediately gives us some of its weakest. Compared to the opening cuts, “Pestilence (the Sickness)” is much shorter and feels like it could have used more time in the incubator. “Rattus Rittualis” is also a misstep. The two-minute song is essentially an extended buildup, making it sound more like an album intro that was accidentally placed as the fourth track. Later, “Raw Meat” barrels forward with lots of energy but little impact. Through it all, the production gets the job done, with an unpolished sound that presents everything clearly without doing anything special. Fortunately, the closer, “Wicked Supremacy,” ends things in a strong fashion, with its groaning tremolos and catchy chugs coming the closest to evoking the trve glory of Bolt Thrower.

Ultimately, Release the Rats sounds like one of those fun little records that you randomly discover years after its release and are happy you did so, even if it doesn’t quite rise to the level of “hidden gem.” I appreciate the album’s memorability, diversity, and quality riffs, but the occasionally undercooked compositions hold it back a bit. Nonetheless, even if Vomitizer seem more obsessed with rodents than retching up last night’s dinner, they’re still more than worthy of the “vomit” name, and those looking for an eclectic and enjoyable batch of extreme metal tunes could find far worse ways to spend 34 minutes.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 128 kbps mp3
Label: Undercover Records
Websites: Facebook | instagram.com/vomitizerofficial
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #BlackMetal #BoltThrower #Chton #Cleaver #Corroder #Crowbar #DeathMetal #Eyehategod #GhettoGhouls #Immortal #NorwegianMetal #ReleaseTheRats #Review #Reviews #UndercoverRecords #Vomitizer #Vomitrot

Ancient Bards – Artifex Review

By Killjoy

Italy’s Ancient Bards was one of my formative bands as a budding metalhead. Their original trilogy (The Alliance of the Kings, Soulless Child, A New Dawn Ending) received tons of playtime as I dove headfirst through my twin gateways of symphonic and power metal years ago. Then, one fateful day amidst my excitement for a brand new album, I happened upon Eldritch Elitist’s review of Origine by way of a Google search, the first I ever read on Angry Metal Guy. Its brutal and unflinching honesty initially shocked my naïve, uninitiated mind but though I would have rated Origine a touch higher, I had to agree that it was the weakest Ancient Bards record thus far. And now that fifth album, Artifex, is here, I’m relieved to report that this is still the case.

Ancient Bards have now completed their transition from symphonic power metal to power symphonic metal. Songwriter Daniele Mazza’s orchestral and choral arrangements were always important, but now they positively drench the music. It’s impossible not to hear Epica in the unabashed bombastic excess, an association further cemented by a guest appearance from Mark Jansen as he practically breathes fire delivering his lines in “The Empire of Black Death.” Sara Squadrani’s voice sounds sharper than ever, soaring and slicing like the Black Crystal Sword that serves as the focal point for the Bards’ epic saga. Martino Garattoni’s frisky bass noodling crosses over from Ne Obliviscaris to Artifex—especially echoing his other band when paired with the guest violin1 in “Soulbound Symphony”—and offers rich counterpoint melodies while filling out the lower end nicely.

Ancient Bards have grown more confident with increasingly complex songwriting. The choir’s lines are largely distinct from Squadrani’s, discontinuing the prior tendency to dilute her lead vocals. The operatic swells that punctuate “Soulbound Symphony” and “My Prima Nox” supercharge the music with euphoric energy. Further, “My Blood and Blade” literally channels the climactic power of Ancient Bards’ earlier work by cleverly weaving an identical choral melody from A New Dawn Ending’s “Showdown” into this chapter’s final battle. Unfortunately, some of the issues that cropped up on Origine persist on Artifex, most noticeably when the orchestral compositions evoke the heavy-handed, “tell, don’t show” style common in movie trailers (“Ministers of Light,” “Luminance and Abyss,” “Mystic Echoes”). Regardless of how strong each orchestral segment is, it’s disappointing that they’ve essentially supplanted Claudio Pietronik’s guitar leads, which are usually buried underneath everything else outside of their allotted shredding time during the bridges. Artifex is an improvement in many technical respects, but it sometimes feels like the symphonic elements have become the end rather than the means.

Artifex has no shortage of adventurous and exciting moments, but the overall pacing makes it less enthralling as a whole. The hour-long album sags under the weight of two ballads (“Unending,” “Sea of Solitude”) and the two bookending narrative tracks (“Luminance and Abyss,” “Artifex”). “Unending” is particularly troublesome, as it clotheslines the momentum garnered from back-to-back guest vocalists Francesco Cavalieri of Wind Rose (“The Vessel”) and the aforementioned Mark Jansen of Epica (“The Empire of Black Death”). This generic love song stands in stark contrast with other Bards ballads that advanced character development with heart-wrenching topics like the loss of an infant child and, crucially, weren’t afraid to speed things up to keep the listener engaged. Luckily, Squadrani’s raw talent as a singer functions as a safety net when the songwriting fizzles and falls off the track. The other major speedbump is the Suite of Requiem and Solace (the final four songs replacing the customary epic concluding track), which takes a bit too long to wrap up the story after the electric resolution of “My Blood and Blade.”

Artifex is a wild ride with higher highs but also lower lows than ever before. When the symphonic compositions are integrated well, it feels exhilarating; when they feel forced, the songs fall flat. I’m not convinced that moving away from power metal is the right choice, as the guitarists are underutilized in this new style. But, while I don’t agree with every creative decision, I still enjoy Artifex and its masterful performances. It’s a humbling privilege to write the next Ancient Bards review after stumbling onto Eldritch’s years ago. Call it nostalgia if you like, but their earnest, heartfelt music still makes me happy. By that measure, I dub Artifex a success.

Rating: Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Limb Music
Websites: ancientbards.bandcamp.com | ancientbards.com | facebook.com/ancientbards
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AncientBards #Apr25 #Artifex #Cinematic #Epica #ItalianMetal #LimbMusic #NeObliviscaris #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #SymphonicMetal #SymphonicPowerMetal #WindRose

Ancient Bards – Artifex Review

By Killjoy

Italy’s Ancient Bards was one of my formative bands as a budding metalhead. Their original trilogy (The Alliance of the Kings, Soulless Child, A New Dawn Ending) received tons of playtime as I dove headfirst through my twin gateways of symphonic and power metal years ago. Then, one fateful day amidst my excitement for a brand new album, I happened upon Eldritch Elitist’s review of Origine by way of a Google search, the first I ever read on Angry Metal Guy. Its brutal and unflinching honesty initially shocked my naïve, uninitiated mind but though I would have rated Origine a touch higher, I had to agree that it was the weakest Ancient Bards record thus far. And now that fifth album, Artifex, is here, I’m relieved to report that this is still the case.

Ancient Bards have now completed their transition from symphonic power metal to power symphonic metal. Songwriter Daniele Mazza’s orchestral and choral arrangements were always important, but now they positively drench the music. It’s impossible not to hear Epica in the unabashed bombastic excess, an association further cemented by a guest appearance from Mark Jansen as he practically breathes fire delivering his lines in “The Empire of Black Death.” Sara Squadrani’s voice sounds sharper than ever, soaring and slicing like the Black Crystal Sword that serves as the focal point for the Bards’ epic saga. Martino Garattoni’s frisky bass noodling crosses over from Ne Obliviscaris to Artifex—especially echoing his other band when paired with the guest violin1 in “Soulbound Symphony”—and offers rich counterpoint melodies while filling out the lower end nicely.

Ancient Bards have grown more confident with increasingly complex songwriting. The choir’s lines are largely distinct from Squadrani’s, discontinuing the prior tendency to dilute her lead vocals. The operatic swells that punctuate “Soulbound Symphony” and “My Prima Nox” supercharge the music with euphoric energy. Further, “My Blood and Blade” literally channels the climactic power of Ancient Bards’ earlier work by cleverly weaving an identical choral melody from A New Dawn Ending’s “Showdown” into this chapter’s final battle. Unfortunately, some of the issues that cropped up on Origine persist on Artifex, most noticeably when the orchestral compositions evoke the heavy-handed, “tell, don’t show” style common in movie trailers (“Ministers of Light,” “Luminance and Abyss,” “Mystic Echoes”). Regardless of how strong each orchestral segment is, it’s disappointing that they’ve essentially supplanted Claudio Pietronik’s guitar leads, which are usually buried underneath everything else outside of their allotted shredding time during the bridges. Artifex is an improvement in many technical respects, but it sometimes feels like the symphonic elements have become the end rather than the means.

Artifex has no shortage of adventurous and exciting moments, but the overall pacing makes it less enthralling as a whole. The hour-long album sags under the weight of two ballads (“Unending,” “Sea of Solitude”) and the two bookending narrative tracks (“Luminance and Abyss,” “Artifex”). “Unending” is particularly troublesome, as it clotheslines the momentum garnered from back-to-back guest vocalists Francesco Cavalieri of Wind Rose (“The Vessel”) and the aforementioned Mark Jansen of Epica (“The Empire of Black Death”). This generic love song stands in stark contrast with other Bards ballads that advanced character development with heart-wrenching topics like the loss of an infant child and, crucially, weren’t afraid to speed things up to keep the listener engaged. Luckily, Squadrani’s raw talent as a singer functions as a safety net when the songwriting fizzles and falls off the track. The other major speedbump is the Suite of Requiem and Solace (the final four songs replacing the customary epic concluding track), which takes a bit too long to wrap up the story after the electric resolution of “My Blood and Blade.”

Artifex is a wild ride with higher highs but also lower lows than ever before. When the symphonic compositions are integrated well, it feels exhilarating; when they feel forced, the songs fall flat. I’m not convinced that moving away from power metal is the right choice, as the guitarists are underutilized in this new style. But, while I don’t agree with every creative decision, I still enjoy Artifex and its masterful performances. It’s a humbling privilege to write the next Ancient Bards review after stumbling onto Eldritch’s years ago. Call it nostalgia if you like, but their earnest, heartfelt music still makes me happy. By that measure, I dub Artifex a success.

Rating: Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Limb Music
Websites: ancientbards.bandcamp.com | ancientbards.com | facebook.com/ancientbards
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AncientBards #Apr25 #Artifex #Cinematic #Epica #ItalianMetal #LimbMusic #NeObliviscaris #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #SymphonicMetal #SymphonicPowerMetal #WindRose

Ancient Bards – Artifex Review

By Killjoy

Italy’s Ancient Bards was one of my formative bands as a budding metalhead. Their original trilogy (The Alliance of the Kings, Soulless Child, A New Dawn Ending) received tons of playtime as I dove headfirst through my twin gateways of symphonic and power metal years ago. Then, one fateful day amidst my excitement for a brand new album, I happened upon Eldritch Elitist’s review of Origine by way of a Google search, the first I ever read on Angry Metal Guy. Its brutal and unflinching honesty initially shocked my naïve, uninitiated mind but though I would have rated Origine a touch higher, I had to agree that it was the weakest Ancient Bards record thus far. And now that fifth album, Artifex, is here, I’m relieved to report that this is still the case.

Ancient Bards have now completed their transition from symphonic power metal to power symphonic metal. Songwriter Daniele Mazza’s orchestral and choral arrangements were always important, but now they positively drench the music. It’s impossible not to hear Epica in the unabashed bombastic excess, an association further cemented by a guest appearance from Mark Jansen as he practically breathes fire delivering his lines in “The Empire of Black Death.” Sara Squadrani’s voice sounds sharper than ever, soaring and slicing like the Black Crystal Sword that serves as the focal point for the Bards’ epic saga. Martino Garattoni’s frisky bass noodling crosses over from Ne Obliviscaris to Artifex—especially echoing his other band when paired with the guest violin1 in “Soulbound Symphony”—and offers rich counterpoint melodies while filling out the lower end nicely.

Ancient Bards have grown more confident with increasingly complex songwriting. The choir’s lines are largely distinct from Squadrani’s, discontinuing the prior tendency to dilute her lead vocals. The operatic swells that punctuate “Soulbound Symphony” and “My Prima Nox” supercharge the music with euphoric energy. Further, “My Blood and Blade” literally channels the climactic power of Ancient Bards’ earlier work by cleverly weaving an identical choral melody from A New Dawn Ending’s “Showdown” into this chapter’s final battle. Unfortunately, some of the issues that cropped up on Origine persist on Artifex, most noticeably when the orchestral compositions evoke the heavy-handed, “tell, don’t show” style common in movie trailers (“Ministers of Light,” “Luminance and Abyss,” “Mystic Echoes”). Regardless of how strong each orchestral segment is, it’s disappointing that they’ve essentially supplanted Claudio Pietronik’s guitar leads, which are usually buried underneath everything else outside of their allotted shredding time during the bridges. Artifex is an improvement in many technical respects, but it sometimes feels like the symphonic elements have become the end rather than the means.

Artifex has no shortage of adventurous and exciting moments, but the overall pacing makes it less enthralling as a whole. The hour-long album sags under the weight of two ballads (“Unending,” “Sea of Solitude”) and the two bookending narrative tracks (“Luminance and Abyss,” “Artifex”). “Unending” is particularly troublesome, as it clotheslines the momentum garnered from back-to-back guest vocalists Francesco Cavalieri of Wind Rose (“The Vessel”) and the aforementioned Mark Jansen of Epica (“The Empire of Black Death”). This generic love song stands in stark contrast with other Bards ballads that advanced character development with heart-wrenching topics like the loss of an infant child and, crucially, weren’t afraid to speed things up to keep the listener engaged. Luckily, Squadrani’s raw talent as a singer functions as a safety net when the songwriting fizzles and falls off the track. The other major speedbump is the Suite of Requiem and Solace (the final four songs replacing the customary epic concluding track), which takes a bit too long to wrap up the story after the electric resolution of “My Blood and Blade.”

Artifex is a wild ride with higher highs but also lower lows than ever before. When the symphonic compositions are integrated well, it feels exhilarating; when they feel forced, the songs fall flat. I’m not convinced that moving away from power metal is the right choice, as the guitarists are underutilized in this new style. But, while I don’t agree with every creative decision, I still enjoy Artifex and its masterful performances. It’s a humbling privilege to write the next Ancient Bards review after stumbling onto Eldritch’s years ago. Call it nostalgia if you like, but their earnest, heartfelt music still makes me happy. By that measure, I dub Artifex a success.

Rating: Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Limb Music
Websites: ancientbards.bandcamp.com | ancientbards.com | facebook.com/ancientbards
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AncientBards #Apr25 #Artifex #Cinematic #Epica #ItalianMetal #LimbMusic #NeObliviscaris #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #SymphonicMetal #SymphonicPowerMetal #WindRose

Ancient Bards – Artifex Review

By Killjoy

Italy’s Ancient Bards was one of my formative bands as a budding metalhead. Their original trilogy (The Alliance of the Kings, Soulless Child, A New Dawn Ending) received tons of playtime as I dove headfirst through my twin gateways of symphonic and power metal years ago. Then, one fateful day amidst my excitement for a brand new album, I happened upon Eldritch Elitist’s review of Origine by way of a Google search, the first I ever read on Angry Metal Guy. Its brutal and unflinching honesty initially shocked my naïve, uninitiated mind but though I would have rated Origine a touch higher, I had to agree that it was the weakest Ancient Bards record thus far. And now that fifth album, Artifex, is here, I’m relieved to report that this is still the case.

Ancient Bards have now completed their transition from symphonic power metal to power symphonic metal. Songwriter Daniele Mazza’s orchestral and choral arrangements were always important, but now they positively drench the music. It’s impossible not to hear Epica in the unabashed bombastic excess, an association further cemented by a guest appearance from Mark Jansen as he practically breathes fire delivering his lines in “The Empire of Black Death.” Sara Squadrani’s voice sounds sharper than ever, soaring and slicing like the Black Crystal Sword that serves as the focal point for the Bards’ epic saga. Martino Garattoni’s frisky bass noodling crosses over from Ne Obliviscaris to Artifex—especially echoing his other band when paired with the guest violin1 in “Soulbound Symphony”—and offers rich counterpoint melodies while filling out the lower end nicely.

Ancient Bards have grown more confident with increasingly complex songwriting. The choir’s lines are largely distinct from Squadrani’s, discontinuing the prior tendency to dilute her lead vocals. The operatic swells that punctuate “Soulbound Symphony” and “My Prima Nox” supercharge the music with euphoric energy. Further, “My Blood and Blade” literally channels the climactic power of Ancient Bards’ earlier work by cleverly weaving an identical choral melody from A New Dawn Ending’s “Showdown” into this chapter’s final battle. Unfortunately, some of the issues that cropped up on Origine persist on Artifex, most noticeably when the orchestral compositions evoke the heavy-handed, “tell, don’t show” style common in movie trailers (“Ministers of Light,” “Luminance and Abyss,” “Mystic Echoes”). Regardless of how strong each orchestral segment is, it’s disappointing that they’ve essentially supplanted Claudio Pietronik’s guitar leads, which are usually buried underneath everything else outside of their allotted shredding time during the bridges. Artifex is an improvement in many technical respects, but it sometimes feels like the symphonic elements have become the end rather than the means.

Artifex has no shortage of adventurous and exciting moments, but the overall pacing makes it less enthralling as a whole. The hour-long album sags under the weight of two ballads (“Unending,” “Sea of Solitude”) and the two bookending narrative tracks (“Luminance and Abyss,” “Artifex”). “Unending” is particularly troublesome, as it clotheslines the momentum garnered from back-to-back guest vocalists Francesco Cavalieri of Wind Rose (“The Vessel”) and the aforementioned Mark Jansen of Epica (“The Empire of Black Death”). This generic love song stands in stark contrast with other Bards ballads that advanced character development with heart-wrenching topics like the loss of an infant child and, crucially, weren’t afraid to speed things up to keep the listener engaged. Luckily, Squadrani’s raw talent as a singer functions as a safety net when the songwriting fizzles and falls off the track. The other major speedbump is the Suite of Requiem and Solace (the final four songs replacing the customary epic concluding track), which takes a bit too long to wrap up the story after the electric resolution of “My Blood and Blade.”

Artifex is a wild ride with higher highs but also lower lows than ever before. When the symphonic compositions are integrated well, it feels exhilarating; when they feel forced, the songs fall flat. I’m not convinced that moving away from power metal is the right choice, as the guitarists are underutilized in this new style. But, while I don’t agree with every creative decision, I still enjoy Artifex and its masterful performances. It’s a humbling privilege to write the next Ancient Bards review after stumbling onto Eldritch’s years ago. Call it nostalgia if you like, but their earnest, heartfelt music still makes me happy. By that measure, I dub Artifex a success.

Rating: Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Limb Music
Websites: ancientbards.bandcamp.com | ancientbards.com | facebook.com/ancientbards
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AncientBards #Apr25 #Artifex #Cinematic #Epica #ItalianMetal #LimbMusic #NeObliviscaris #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #SymphonicMetal #SymphonicPowerMetal #WindRose

Exterminatus – Echoes From a Distant Star Part 1 Review

By Owlswald

“Exterminatus” is a Warhammer 40k term that describes a global mass extinction event authorized by the emperor when the Imperium deems the cost of holding or retaking a planet too high. While I’m naïve about such things, Canadian fivesome Exterminatus certainly isn’t. And these Canucks are here to incinerate your eardrums with a heavy dose of sci-fi inspired tech-death. Originally demoed in 2012, Echoes From a Distant Star Part I was to be the follow-up to Xenocide’s debut album, Galactic Oppression. However, the group disbanded before they completed the album, and its members—including most of the original lineup—subsequently formed Exterminatus. Thirteen years later, these Vancouverites have released two solid albums and are finally prepared to relaunch Echoes after recording and re-recording the material three times. Seeking to venture into deep space through a celestial narrative that investigates interstellar creation and its obscure realities, I’m left wondering if the destination justifies the voyage.

Raising the pace and intensity of its predecessors, Exterminatus mostly operates in overdrive on Echoes, peppering the limited moments of empty space with Faceless-esque grooves and melodic leads. Lead by the dual axe attacks of Tabreez Azad and Elia Baghbaniyan, the duo warps the fabric of reality with their percussive shredding, laser-fire tremolos, and technical articulation, flicking and tapping for thirty minutes across the album’s seven chapters.1 Together with Max Sepulveda’s (The Zenith Passage) ruthless drumming, the trio dominate the record’s linear mix, occasionally permitting Lucas Abreu’s virtuosic basslines to break through the wall of crushing brutality (“The Cloud,” “Suffer in Silence”). Lukas Bresan’s heavy Archspire-like growls provide additional gravity as they narrate Echoes’ grand planetary saga. Drawing inspiration from the famous works of Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke, as well as the Stargate SG-1 and Mass Effect franchises, Exterminatus explores the universe’s fundamental forces through the familiar and technical movements of tech-death’s stalwarts.

Exterminatus thrive when they back off the accelerator and use their technical expression to manipulate the cosmos in a manner that boosts Echoes’ groove-rich currents. Closer “The Signal,” is a no-frills banger that finishes with a savage dose of syncopated thrash riffs and agile drumming that aptly finds the balance between brutality and accessibility. Abreu’s playful bass lines at the onset of “Cosmic Disturbance” conveys its ominous warning with finesse, while the pulse-driven riffing of the song’s end hits with the power of a supernova. Meanwhile, the heroic solo before the launch of “Starbound” or the melodic leads of “The New Theia” provide moments of respite around outbursts of cosmic turbulence. Though Echoes’ highlights are generally not as memorable as I would like, there are enough amidst the onslaught of staccatos, pummeling double bass, and light speed shifts to provide necessary touchstones and avoid a full system overload.

Still, Exterminatus’ ambitious pursuit fares better in concept than in execution. Track sequencing and songwriting diminish Echoes’ voyage, hindering the whole with abrupt openings and sudden descents that disrupt the journey. Songs like “Primordial Sea,” and “The New Theia” suffer from bloat, while “Suffer in Silence” and “The Signal” seem truncated. Accordingly, Echoes feels more academic than vibrant, a collection of separate tracks that are challenging to connect with, rather than an absorbing cosmic saga. Additionally, the production sacrifices nuance and emotion for volume and intensity, thereby crushing any promise of dynamics. The overly loud mix is too aggressive—particularly the drums and guitars—which fatigued my ears and became frustrating. Likewise, Exterminatus’ reliance on tropey bass drops to replace the lack of energy in Echoes’ peak moments are a distraction, achieving the opposite of their intended effect.

Despite years of development, Echoes doesn’t hit its mark. Exterminatus clearly possess the talent to create something special, and their commitment to crafting an ambitious, sci-fi narrative is commendable. However, the album’s songwriting and production prevent it from reaching its potential, serving instead as a demonstration of what they are capable of. What Echoes lacks in cohesion, it partly compensates for in technical expression and sheer sonic intensity. But if Exterminatus can refine the issues that hinder Echoes, their next venture into the cosmos could be great indeed.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: exterminatus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/exterminatusband
Releases Worldwide: April 18, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Archspire #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #EchoesFromADistantStarPart1 #Exterminatus #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #TheZenithPassage

Exterminatus – Echoes From a Distant Star Part 1 Review

By Owlswald

“Exterminatus” is a Warhammer 40k term that describes a global mass extinction event authorized by the emperor when the Imperium deems the cost of holding or retaking a planet too high. While I’m naïve about such things, Canadian fivesome Exterminatus certainly isn’t. And these Canucks are here to incinerate your eardrums with a heavy dose of sci-fi inspired tech-death. Originally demoed in 2012, Echoes From a Distant Star Part I was to be the follow-up to Xenocide’s debut album, Galactic Oppression. However, the group disbanded before they completed the album, and its members—including most of the original lineup—subsequently formed Exterminatus. Thirteen years later, these Vancouverites have released two solid albums and are finally prepared to relaunch Echoes after recording and re-recording the material three times. Seeking to venture into deep space through a celestial narrative that investigates interstellar creation and its obscure realities, I’m left wondering if the destination justifies the voyage.

Raising the pace and intensity of its predecessors, Exterminatus mostly operates in overdrive on Echoes, peppering the limited moments of empty space with Faceless-esque grooves and melodic leads. Lead by the dual axe attacks of Tabreez Azad and Elia Baghbaniyan, the duo warps the fabric of reality with their percussive shredding, laser-fire tremolos, and technical articulation, flicking and tapping for thirty minutes across the album’s seven chapters.1 Together with Max Sepulveda’s (The Zenith Passage) ruthless drumming, the trio dominate the record’s linear mix, occasionally permitting Lucas Abreu’s virtuosic basslines to break through the wall of crushing brutality (“The Cloud,” “Suffer in Silence”). Lukas Bresan’s heavy Archspire-like growls provide additional gravity as they narrate Echoes’ grand planetary saga. Drawing inspiration from the famous works of Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke, as well as the Stargate SG-1 and Mass Effect franchises, Exterminatus explores the universe’s fundamental forces through the familiar and technical movements of tech-death’s stalwarts.

Exterminatus thrive when they back off the accelerator and use their technical expression to manipulate the cosmos in a manner that boosts Echoes’ groove-rich currents. Closer “The Signal,” is a no-frills banger that finishes with a savage dose of syncopated thrash riffs and agile drumming that aptly finds the balance between brutality and accessibility. Abreu’s playful bass lines at the onset of “Cosmic Disturbance” conveys its ominous warning with finesse, while the pulse-driven riffing of the song’s end hits with the power of a supernova. Meanwhile, the heroic solo before the launch of “Starbound” or the melodic leads of “The New Theia” provide moments of respite around outbursts of cosmic turbulence. Though Echoes’ highlights are generally not as memorable as I would like, there are enough amidst the onslaught of staccatos, pummeling double bass, and light speed shifts to provide necessary touchstones and avoid a full system overload.

Still, Exterminatus’ ambitious pursuit fares better in concept than in execution. Track sequencing and songwriting diminish Echoes’ voyage, hindering the whole with abrupt openings and sudden descents that disrupt the journey. Songs like “Primordial Sea,” and “The New Theia” suffer from bloat, while “Suffer in Silence” and “The Signal” seem truncated. Accordingly, Echoes feels more academic than vibrant, a collection of separate tracks that are challenging to connect with, rather than an absorbing cosmic saga. Additionally, the production sacrifices nuance and emotion for volume and intensity, thereby crushing any promise of dynamics. The overly loud mix is too aggressive—particularly the drums and guitars—which fatigued my ears and became frustrating. Likewise, Exterminatus’ reliance on tropey bass drops to replace the lack of energy in Echoes’ peak moments are a distraction, achieving the opposite of their intended effect.

Despite years of development, Echoes doesn’t hit its mark. Exterminatus clearly possess the talent to create something special, and their commitment to crafting an ambitious, sci-fi narrative is commendable. However, the album’s songwriting and production prevent it from reaching its potential, serving instead as a demonstration of what they are capable of. What Echoes lacks in cohesion, it partly compensates for in technical expression and sheer sonic intensity. But if Exterminatus can refine the issues that hinder Echoes, their next venture into the cosmos could be great indeed.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: exterminatus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/exterminatusband
Releases Worldwide: April 18, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Archspire #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #EchoesFromADistantStarPart1 #Exterminatus #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #TheZenithPassage

Exterminatus – Echoes From a Distant Star Part 1 Review

By Owlswald

“Exterminatus” is a Warhammer 40k term that describes a global mass extinction event authorized by the emperor when the Imperium deems the cost of holding or retaking a planet too high. While I’m naïve about such things, Canadian fivesome Exterminatus certainly isn’t. And these Canucks are here to incinerate your eardrums with a heavy dose of sci-fi inspired tech-death. Originally demoed in 2012, Echoes From a Distant Star Part I was to be the follow-up to Xenocide’s debut album, Galactic Oppression. However, the group disbanded before they completed the album, and its members—including most of the original lineup—subsequently formed Exterminatus. Thirteen years later, these Vancouverites have released two solid albums and are finally prepared to relaunch Echoes after recording and re-recording the material three times. Seeking to venture into deep space through a celestial narrative that investigates interstellar creation and its obscure realities, I’m left wondering if the destination justifies the voyage.

Raising the pace and intensity of its predecessors, Exterminatus mostly operates in overdrive on Echoes, peppering the limited moments of empty space with Faceless-esque grooves and melodic leads. Lead by the dual axe attacks of Tabreez Azad and Elia Baghbaniyan, the duo warps the fabric of reality with their percussive shredding, laser-fire tremolos, and technical articulation, flicking and tapping for thirty minutes across the album’s seven chapters.1 Together with Max Sepulveda’s (The Zenith Passage) ruthless drumming, the trio dominate the record’s linear mix, occasionally permitting Lucas Abreu’s virtuosic basslines to break through the wall of crushing brutality (“The Cloud,” “Suffer in Silence”). Lukas Bresan’s heavy Archspire-like growls provide additional gravity as they narrate Echoes’ grand planetary saga. Drawing inspiration from the famous works of Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke, as well as the Stargate SG-1 and Mass Effect franchises, Exterminatus explores the universe’s fundamental forces through the familiar and technical movements of tech-death’s stalwarts.

Exterminatus thrive when they back off the accelerator and use their technical expression to manipulate the cosmos in a manner that boosts Echoes’ groove-rich currents. Closer “The Signal,” is a no-frills banger that finishes with a savage dose of syncopated thrash riffs and agile drumming that aptly finds the balance between brutality and accessibility. Abreu’s playful bass lines at the onset of “Cosmic Disturbance” conveys its ominous warning with finesse, while the pulse-driven riffing of the song’s end hits with the power of a supernova. Meanwhile, the heroic solo before the launch of “Starbound” or the melodic leads of “The New Theia” provide moments of respite around outbursts of cosmic turbulence. Though Echoes’ highlights are generally not as memorable as I would like, there are enough amidst the onslaught of staccatos, pummeling double bass, and light speed shifts to provide necessary touchstones and avoid a full system overload.

Still, Exterminatus’ ambitious pursuit fares better in concept than in execution. Track sequencing and songwriting diminish Echoes’ voyage, hindering the whole with abrupt openings and sudden descents that disrupt the journey. Songs like “Primordial Sea,” and “The New Theia” suffer from bloat, while “Suffer in Silence” and “The Signal” seem truncated. Accordingly, Echoes feels more academic than vibrant, a collection of separate tracks that are challenging to connect with, rather than an absorbing cosmic saga. Additionally, the production sacrifices nuance and emotion for volume and intensity, thereby crushing any promise of dynamics. The overly loud mix is too aggressive—particularly the drums and guitars—which fatigued my ears and became frustrating. Likewise, Exterminatus’ reliance on tropey bass drops to replace the lack of energy in Echoes’ peak moments are a distraction, achieving the opposite of their intended effect.

Despite years of development, Echoes doesn’t hit its mark. Exterminatus clearly possess the talent to create something special, and their commitment to crafting an ambitious, sci-fi narrative is commendable. However, the album’s songwriting and production prevent it from reaching its potential, serving instead as a demonstration of what they are capable of. What Echoes lacks in cohesion, it partly compensates for in technical expression and sheer sonic intensity. But if Exterminatus can refine the issues that hinder Echoes, their next venture into the cosmos could be great indeed.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: exterminatus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/exterminatusband
Releases Worldwide: April 18, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Archspire #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #EchoesFromADistantStarPart1 #Exterminatus #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #TheZenithPassage

Exterminatus – Echoes From a Distant Star Part 1 Review

By Owlswald

“Exterminatus” is a Warhammer 40k term that describes a global mass extinction event authorized by the emperor when the Imperium deems the cost of holding or retaking a planet too high. While I’m naïve about such things, Canadian fivesome Exterminatus certainly isn’t. And these Canucks are here to incinerate your eardrums with a heavy dose of sci-fi inspired tech-death. Originally demoed in 2012, Echoes From a Distant Star Part I was to be the follow-up to Xenocide’s debut album, Galactic Oppression. However, the group disbanded before they completed the album, and its members—including most of the original lineup—subsequently formed Exterminatus. Thirteen years later, these Vancouverites have released two solid albums and are finally prepared to relaunch Echoes after recording and re-recording the material three times. Seeking to venture into deep space through a celestial narrative that investigates interstellar creation and its obscure realities, I’m left wondering if the destination justifies the voyage.

Raising the pace and intensity of its predecessors, Exterminatus mostly operates in overdrive on Echoes, peppering the limited moments of empty space with Faceless-esque grooves and melodic leads. Lead by the dual axe attacks of Tabreez Azad and Elia Baghbaniyan, the duo warps the fabric of reality with their percussive shredding, laser-fire tremolos, and technical articulation, flicking and tapping for thirty minutes across the album’s seven chapters.1 Together with Max Sepulveda’s (The Zenith Passage) ruthless drumming, the trio dominate the record’s linear mix, occasionally permitting Lucas Abreu’s virtuosic basslines to break through the wall of crushing brutality (“The Cloud,” “Suffer in Silence”). Lukas Bresan’s heavy Archspire-like growls provide additional gravity as they narrate Echoes’ grand planetary saga. Drawing inspiration from the famous works of Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke, as well as the Stargate SG-1 and Mass Effect franchises, Exterminatus explores the universe’s fundamental forces through the familiar and technical movements of tech-death’s stalwarts.

Exterminatus thrive when they back off the accelerator and use their technical expression to manipulate the cosmos in a manner that boosts Echoes’ groove-rich currents. Closer “The Signal,” is a no-frills banger that finishes with a savage dose of syncopated thrash riffs and agile drumming that aptly finds the balance between brutality and accessibility. Abreu’s playful bass lines at the onset of “Cosmic Disturbance” conveys its ominous warning with finesse, while the pulse-driven riffing of the song’s end hits with the power of a supernova. Meanwhile, the heroic solo before the launch of “Starbound” or the melodic leads of “The New Theia” provide moments of respite around outbursts of cosmic turbulence. Though Echoes’ highlights are generally not as memorable as I would like, there are enough amidst the onslaught of staccatos, pummeling double bass, and light speed shifts to provide necessary touchstones and avoid a full system overload.

Still, Exterminatus’ ambitious pursuit fares better in concept than in execution. Track sequencing and songwriting diminish Echoes’ voyage, hindering the whole with abrupt openings and sudden descents that disrupt the journey. Songs like “Primordial Sea,” and “The New Theia” suffer from bloat, while “Suffer in Silence” and “The Signal” seem truncated. Accordingly, Echoes feels more academic than vibrant, a collection of separate tracks that are challenging to connect with, rather than an absorbing cosmic saga. Additionally, the production sacrifices nuance and emotion for volume and intensity, thereby crushing any promise of dynamics. The overly loud mix is too aggressive—particularly the drums and guitars—which fatigued my ears and became frustrating. Likewise, Exterminatus’ reliance on tropey bass drops to replace the lack of energy in Echoes’ peak moments are a distraction, achieving the opposite of their intended effect.

Despite years of development, Echoes doesn’t hit its mark. Exterminatus clearly possess the talent to create something special, and their commitment to crafting an ambitious, sci-fi narrative is commendable. However, the album’s songwriting and production prevent it from reaching its potential, serving instead as a demonstration of what they are capable of. What Echoes lacks in cohesion, it partly compensates for in technical expression and sheer sonic intensity. But if Exterminatus can refine the issues that hinder Echoes, their next venture into the cosmos could be great indeed.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: exterminatus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/exterminatusband
Releases Worldwide: April 18, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Archspire #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #EchoesFromADistantStarPart1 #Exterminatus #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #TheZenithPassage

Sijjin – Helljjin Combat Review

By Mark Z.

I’ve heard people say that today’s music has nothing new to offer, but I actually think it has the opposite problem. To me, there are too many fucking bands out there playing technical blackened dissodeath with a tuba or some shit and not enough who simply take a tried-and-true style and execute it well. Such was what initially drew me to Sijjin. Right around the time their infamous doom-death band Necros Christos dissolved in 2021, bassist/vocalist Malte Gericke and drummer Iván Hernández joined forces with guitarist Ekaitz Garmendia (Legen Beltza) to pay homage to the earliest years of death metal with Sijjin’s full-length debut, Sumerian Promises. With its twisted tremolos and thrashy undercurrents, Sumerian Promises was a fun throwback that reeked with the archaic death stench of bands like Sadistic Intent, Mortem, Atomic Aggressor, and early Morbid Angel. Almost four years later, the group have now finally delivered their second album, Helljjin Combat. But is this a triumphant victory or yet another casualty of the heavy metal battlefield?

One thing is clear: Helljjin Combat is quite a bit different than its predecessor. The change in approach is apparent right from the opener, “Fear Not the Tormentor,” which begins with an extended instrumental opening that uses technical riffing and lively bass guitar in a way that almost sounds like Voivod. The tech-thrash vibe continues throughout the songs’s eight-and-a-half minute runtime, with dexterous fretwork trading off with quick, chunky chords and twirling tremolos, all anchored by a refrain that consists of a staccato shout of the track title. While it’s not the primitive death-thrash I was looking for, it’s a fine song in its own right.

Unfortunately, the rest of the album isn’t quite as successful in executing the band’s new style. It soon becomes apparent that many of these eight tracks spend less time delivering sharp hooks and memorable riffs and more time simply lurching forward on mid-paced pseudo-grooves that only occasionally get the head bobbing. Sometimes, interesting ideas will crop up, like when “Religious Insanity Denies Slavery” evokes old Metallica with a dusty, cleanly-picked midsection that builds into Old West-style lead guitars. Yet moments like this only make it more apparent how so much of the surrounding material fails to stand out. It doesn’t help that none of these songs are under five minutes, and it’s also unfortunate how many of them open with similar-sounding semi-technical riffs that make me contemplate hitting the stop button well before the album’s 49 minutes are over. Malte’s vocals also sound throatier and less raspy than on Sumerian Promises, which is fitting for the band’s new approach but still isn’t the most welcome change.

Fortunately, there’s some stuff to enjoy here. The two pre-release songs, “Dakhma Curse” and “Five Blades,” probably won’t make anyone’s Song ‘O the Year List, but at least their nimble riffing and quicker rhythms offer the album a nice shot of energy. “The Southern Temple” serves as a decent closer with the more powerful riffing in its second half, and the band’s instrumental prowess is more impressive than ever (especially Ekaitz’s adept riffing and solos). Ekaitz recorded the album in his own studio in the Basque Country, and the result is fantastic. The sound is clear and powerful, with the guitars roaring confidently and the bass guitar maintaining an active and distinct presence below the riffing. And while the atmosphere isn’t as strong as the debut, there’s still a whiff of ancient evil here that I find most welcome.

Yet ultimately, Helljjin Combat is the epitome of a Mixed bag. While the production and the instrumental performances are great, the songwriting is less compelling. With a few sharper hooks, tighter track lengths, and a couple of faster songs, Helljjin Combat could have easily been better than Sumerian Promises. As it is, I can’t help but be a bit disappointed that not only did Sijjin choose to move away from death metal and into a more technical thrash metal sound, but also that they didn’t do the best job executing this new style. While there are a couple of decent songs and some impressive things here, I don’t see Helljjin Combat as an album I’ll be returning to often.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Sepulchral Voice Records
Websites: sijjin.bandcamp.com | Facebook | instagram.com/sijjin_official
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #AtomicAggressor #DeathMetal #HelljjinCombat #InternationalMetal #LegenBeltza #Metallica #MorbidAngel #Mortem #NecrosChristos #Review #Reviews #SadisticIntent #SepulchralVoiceRecords #Sijjin #ThrashMetal #Voivod

Sijjin – Helljjin Combat Review

By Mark Z.

I’ve heard people say that today’s music has nothing new to offer, but I actually think it has the opposite problem. To me, there are too many fucking bands out there playing technical blackened dissodeath with a tuba or some shit and not enough who simply take a tried-and-true style and execute it well. Such was what initially drew me to Sijjin. Right around the time their infamous doom-death band Necros Christos dissolved in 2021, bassist/vocalist Malte Gericke and drummer Iván Hernández joined forces with guitarist Ekaitz Garmendia (Legen Beltza) to pay homage to the earliest years of death metal with Sijjin’s full-length debut, Sumerian Promises. With its twisted tremolos and thrashy undercurrents, Sumerian Promises was a fun throwback that reeked with the archaic death stench of bands like Sadistic Intent, Mortem, Atomic Aggressor, and early Morbid Angel. Almost four years later, the group have now finally delivered their second album, Helljjin Combat. But is this a triumphant victory or yet another casualty of the heavy metal battlefield?

One thing is clear: Helljjin Combat is quite a bit different than its predecessor. The change in approach is apparent right from the opener, “Fear Not the Tormentor,” which begins with an extended instrumental opening that uses technical riffing and lively bass guitar in a way that almost sounds like Voivod. The tech-thrash vibe continues throughout the songs’s eight-and-a-half minute runtime, with dexterous fretwork trading off with quick, chunky chords and twirling tremolos, all anchored by a refrain that consists of a staccato shout of the track title. While it’s not the primitive death-thrash I was looking for, it’s a fine song in its own right.

Unfortunately, the rest of the album isn’t quite as successful in executing the band’s new style. It soon becomes apparent that many of these eight tracks spend less time delivering sharp hooks and memorable riffs and more time simply lurching forward on mid-paced pseudo-grooves that only occasionally get the head bobbing. Sometimes, interesting ideas will crop up, like when “Religious Insanity Denies Slavery” evokes old Metallica with a dusty, cleanly-picked midsection that builds into Old West-style lead guitars. Yet moments like this only make it more apparent how so much of the surrounding material fails to stand out. It doesn’t help that none of these songs are under five minutes, and it’s also unfortunate how many of them open with similar-sounding semi-technical riffs that make me contemplate hitting the stop button well before the album’s 49 minutes are over. Malte’s vocals also sound throatier and less raspy than on Sumerian Promises, which is fitting for the band’s new approach but still isn’t the most welcome change.

Fortunately, there’s some stuff to enjoy here. The two pre-release songs, “Dakhma Curse” and “Five Blades,” probably won’t make anyone’s Song ‘O the Year List, but at least their nimble riffing and quicker rhythms offer the album a nice shot of energy. “The Southern Temple” serves as a decent closer with the more powerful riffing in its second half, and the band’s instrumental prowess is more impressive than ever (especially Ekaitz’s adept riffing and solos). Ekaitz recorded the album in his own studio in the Basque Country, and the result is fantastic. The sound is clear and powerful, with the guitars roaring confidently and the bass guitar maintaining an active and distinct presence below the riffing. And while the atmosphere isn’t as strong as the debut, there’s still a whiff of ancient evil here that I find most welcome.

Yet ultimately, Helljjin Combat is the epitome of a Mixed bag. While the production and the instrumental performances are great, the songwriting is less compelling. With a few sharper hooks, tighter track lengths, and a couple of faster songs, Helljjin Combat could have easily been better than Sumerian Promises. As it is, I can’t help but be a bit disappointed that not only did Sijjin choose to move away from death metal and into a more technical thrash metal sound, but also that they didn’t do the best job executing this new style. While there are a couple of decent songs and some impressive things here, I don’t see Helljjin Combat as an album I’ll be returning to often.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Sepulchral Voice Records
Websites: sijjin.bandcamp.com | Facebook | instagram.com/sijjin_official
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #AtomicAggressor #DeathMetal #HelljjinCombat #InternationalMetal #LegenBeltza #Metallica #MorbidAngel #Mortem #NecrosChristos #Review #Reviews #SadisticIntent #SepulchralVoiceRecords #Sijjin #ThrashMetal #Voivod

Sijjin – Helljjin Combat Review

By Mark Z.

I’ve heard people say that today’s music has nothing new to offer, but I actually think it has the opposite problem. To me, there are too many fucking bands out there playing technical blackened dissodeath with a tuba or some shit and not enough who simply take a tried-and-true style and execute it well. Such was what initially drew me to Sijjin. Right around the time their infamous doom-death band Necros Christos dissolved in 2021, bassist/vocalist Malte Gericke and drummer Iván Hernández joined forces with guitarist Ekaitz Garmendia (Legen Beltza) to pay homage to the earliest years of death metal with Sijjin’s full-length debut, Sumerian Promises. With its twisted tremolos and thrashy undercurrents, Sumerian Promises was a fun throwback that reeked with the archaic death stench of bands like Sadistic Intent, Mortem, Atomic Aggressor, and early Morbid Angel. Almost four years later, the group have now finally delivered their second album, Helljjin Combat. But is this a triumphant victory or yet another casualty of the heavy metal battlefield?

One thing is clear: Helljjin Combat is quite a bit different than its predecessor. The change in approach is apparent right from the opener, “Fear Not the Tormentor,” which begins with an extended instrumental opening that uses technical riffing and lively bass guitar in a way that almost sounds like Voivod. The tech-thrash vibe continues throughout the songs’s eight-and-a-half minute runtime, with dexterous fretwork trading off with quick, chunky chords and twirling tremolos, all anchored by a refrain that consists of a staccato shout of the track title. While it’s not the primitive death-thrash I was looking for, it’s a fine song in its own right.

Unfortunately, the rest of the album isn’t quite as successful in executing the band’s new style. It soon becomes apparent that many of these eight tracks spend less time delivering sharp hooks and memorable riffs and more time simply lurching forward on mid-paced pseudo-grooves that only occasionally get the head bobbing. Sometimes, interesting ideas will crop up, like when “Religious Insanity Denies Slavery” evokes old Metallica with a dusty, cleanly-picked midsection that builds into Old West-style lead guitars. Yet moments like this only make it more apparent how so much of the surrounding material fails to stand out. It doesn’t help that none of these songs are under five minutes, and it’s also unfortunate how many of them open with similar-sounding semi-technical riffs that make me contemplate hitting the stop button well before the album’s 49 minutes are over. Malte’s vocals also sound throatier and less raspy than on Sumerian Promises, which is fitting for the band’s new approach but still isn’t the most welcome change.

Fortunately, there’s some stuff to enjoy here. The two pre-release songs, “Dakhma Curse” and “Five Blades,” probably won’t make anyone’s Song ‘O the Year List, but at least their nimble riffing and quicker rhythms offer the album a nice shot of energy. “The Southern Temple” serves as a decent closer with the more powerful riffing in its second half, and the band’s instrumental prowess is more impressive than ever (especially Ekaitz’s adept riffing and solos). Ekaitz recorded the album in his own studio in the Basque Country, and the result is fantastic. The sound is clear and powerful, with the guitars roaring confidently and the bass guitar maintaining an active and distinct presence below the riffing. And while the atmosphere isn’t as strong as the debut, there’s still a whiff of ancient evil here that I find most welcome.

Yet ultimately, Helljjin Combat is the epitome of a Mixed bag. While the production and the instrumental performances are great, the songwriting is less compelling. With a few sharper hooks, tighter track lengths, and a couple of faster songs, Helljjin Combat could have easily been better than Sumerian Promises. As it is, I can’t help but be a bit disappointed that not only did Sijjin choose to move away from death metal and into a more technical thrash metal sound, but also that they didn’t do the best job executing this new style. While there are a couple of decent songs and some impressive things here, I don’t see Helljjin Combat as an album I’ll be returning to often.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Sepulchral Voice Records
Websites: sijjin.bandcamp.com | Facebook | instagram.com/sijjin_official
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #AtomicAggressor #DeathMetal #HelljjinCombat #InternationalMetal #LegenBeltza #Metallica #MorbidAngel #Mortem #NecrosChristos #Review #Reviews #SadisticIntent #SepulchralVoiceRecords #Sijjin #ThrashMetal #Voivod

Sijjin – Helljjin Combat Review

By Mark Z.

I’ve heard people say that today’s music has nothing new to offer, but I actually think it has the opposite problem. To me, there are too many fucking bands out there playing technical blackened dissodeath with a tuba or some shit and not enough who simply take a tried-and-true style and execute it well. Such was what initially drew me to Sijjin. Right around the time their infamous doom-death band Necros Christos dissolved in 2021, bassist/vocalist Malte Gericke and drummer Iván Hernández joined forces with guitarist Ekaitz Garmendia (Legen Beltza) to pay homage to the earliest years of death metal with Sijjin’s full-length debut, Sumerian Promises. With its twisted tremolos and thrashy undercurrents, Sumerian Promises was a fun throwback that reeked with the archaic death stench of bands like Sadistic Intent, Mortem, Atomic Aggressor, and early Morbid Angel. Almost four years later, the group have now finally delivered their second album, Helljjin Combat. But is this a triumphant victory or yet another casualty of the heavy metal battlefield?

One thing is clear: Helljjin Combat is quite a bit different than its predecessor. The change in approach is apparent right from the opener, “Fear Not the Tormentor,” which begins with an extended instrumental opening that uses technical riffing and lively bass guitar in a way that almost sounds like Voivod. The tech-thrash vibe continues throughout the songs’s eight-and-a-half minute runtime, with dexterous fretwork trading off with quick, chunky chords and twirling tremolos, all anchored by a refrain that consists of a staccato shout of the track title. While it’s not the primitive death-thrash I was looking for, it’s a fine song in its own right.

Unfortunately, the rest of the album isn’t quite as successful in executing the band’s new style. It soon becomes apparent that many of these eight tracks spend less time delivering sharp hooks and memorable riffs and more time simply lurching forward on mid-paced pseudo-grooves that only occasionally get the head bobbing. Sometimes, interesting ideas will crop up, like when “Religious Insanity Denies Slavery” evokes old Metallica with a dusty, cleanly-picked midsection that builds into Old West-style lead guitars. Yet moments like this only make it more apparent how so much of the surrounding material fails to stand out. It doesn’t help that none of these songs are under five minutes, and it’s also unfortunate how many of them open with similar-sounding semi-technical riffs that make me contemplate hitting the stop button well before the album’s 49 minutes are over. Malte’s vocals also sound throatier and less raspy than on Sumerian Promises, which is fitting for the band’s new approach but still isn’t the most welcome change.

Fortunately, there’s some stuff to enjoy here. The two pre-release songs, “Dakhma Curse” and “Five Blades,” probably won’t make anyone’s Song ‘O the Year List, but at least their nimble riffing and quicker rhythms offer the album a nice shot of energy. “The Southern Temple” serves as a decent closer with the more powerful riffing in its second half, and the band’s instrumental prowess is more impressive than ever (especially Ekaitz’s adept riffing and solos). Ekaitz recorded the album in his own studio in the Basque Country, and the result is fantastic. The sound is clear and powerful, with the guitars roaring confidently and the bass guitar maintaining an active and distinct presence below the riffing. And while the atmosphere isn’t as strong as the debut, there’s still a whiff of ancient evil here that I find most welcome.

Yet ultimately, Helljjin Combat is the epitome of a Mixed bag. While the production and the instrumental performances are great, the songwriting is less compelling. With a few sharper hooks, tighter track lengths, and a couple of faster songs, Helljjin Combat could have easily been better than Sumerian Promises. As it is, I can’t help but be a bit disappointed that not only did Sijjin choose to move away from death metal and into a more technical thrash metal sound, but also that they didn’t do the best job executing this new style. While there are a couple of decent songs and some impressive things here, I don’t see Helljjin Combat as an album I’ll be returning to often.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Sepulchral Voice Records
Websites: sijjin.bandcamp.com | Facebook | instagram.com/sijjin_official
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #AtomicAggressor #DeathMetal #HelljjinCombat #InternationalMetal #LegenBeltza #Metallica #MorbidAngel #Mortem #NecrosChristos #Review #Reviews #SadisticIntent #SepulchralVoiceRecords #Sijjin #ThrashMetal #Voivod

Sijjin – Helljjin Combat Review

By Mark Z.

I’ve heard people say that today’s music has nothing new to offer, but I actually think it has the opposite problem. To me, there are too many fucking bands out there playing technical blackened dissodeath with a tuba or some shit and not enough who simply take a tried-and-true style and execute it well. Such was what initially drew me to Sijjin. Right around the time their infamous doom-death band Necros Christos dissolved in 2021, bassist/vocalist Malte Gericke and drummer Iván Hernández joined forces with guitarist Ekaitz Garmendia (Legen Beltza) to pay homage to the earliest years of death metal with Sijjin’s full-length debut, Sumerian Promises. With its twisted tremolos and thrashy undercurrents, Sumerian Promises was a fun throwback that reeked with the archaic death stench of bands like Sadistic Intent, Mortem, Atomic Aggressor, and early Morbid Angel. Almost four years later, the group have now finally delivered their second album, Helljjin Combat. But is this a triumphant victory or yet another casualty of the heavy metal battlefield?

One thing is clear: Helljjin Combat is quite a bit different than its predecessor. The change in approach is apparent right from the opener, “Fear Not the Tormentor,” which begins with an extended instrumental opening that uses technical riffing and lively bass guitar in a way that almost sounds like Voivod. The tech-thrash vibe continues throughout the songs’s eight-and-a-half minute runtime, with dexterous fretwork trading off with quick, chunky chords and twirling tremolos, all anchored by a refrain that consists of a staccato shout of the track title. While it’s not the primitive death-thrash I was looking for, it’s a fine song in its own right.

Unfortunately, the rest of the album isn’t quite as successful in executing the band’s new style. It soon becomes apparent that many of these eight tracks spend less time delivering sharp hooks and memorable riffs and more time simply lurching forward on mid-paced pseudo-grooves that only occasionally get the head bobbing. Sometimes, interesting ideas will crop up, like when “Religious Insanity Denies Slavery” evokes old Metallica with a dusty, cleanly-picked midsection that builds into Old West-style lead guitars. Yet moments like this only make it more apparent how so much of the surrounding material fails to stand out. It doesn’t help that none of these songs are under five minutes, and it’s also unfortunate how many of them open with similar-sounding semi-technical riffs that make me contemplate hitting the stop button well before the album’s 49 minutes are over. Malte’s vocals also sound throatier and less raspy than on Sumerian Promises, which is fitting for the band’s new approach but still isn’t the most welcome change.

Fortunately, there’s some stuff to enjoy here. The two pre-release songs, “Dakhma Curse” and “Five Blades,” probably won’t make anyone’s Song ‘O the Year List, but at least their nimble riffing and quicker rhythms offer the album a nice shot of energy. “The Southern Temple” serves as a decent closer with the more powerful riffing in its second half, and the band’s instrumental prowess is more impressive than ever (especially Ekaitz’s adept riffing and solos). Ekaitz recorded the album in his own studio in the Basque Country, and the result is fantastic. The sound is clear and powerful, with the guitars roaring confidently and the bass guitar maintaining an active and distinct presence below the riffing. And while the atmosphere isn’t as strong as the debut, there’s still a whiff of ancient evil here that I find most welcome.

Yet ultimately, Helljjin Combat is the epitome of a Mixed bag. While the production and the instrumental performances are great, the songwriting is less compelling. With a few sharper hooks, tighter track lengths, and a couple of faster songs, Helljjin Combat could have easily been better than Sumerian Promises. As it is, I can’t help but be a bit disappointed that not only did Sijjin choose to move away from death metal and into a more technical thrash metal sound, but also that they didn’t do the best job executing this new style. While there are a couple of decent songs and some impressive things here, I don’t see Helljjin Combat as an album I’ll be returning to often.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Sepulchral Voice Records
Websites: sijjin.bandcamp.com | Facebook | instagram.com/sijjin_official
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #AtomicAggressor #DeathMetal #HelljjinCombat #InternationalMetal #LegenBeltza #Metallica #MorbidAngel #Mortem #NecrosChristos #Review #Reviews #SadisticIntent #SepulchralVoiceRecords #Sijjin #ThrashMetal #Voivod

Benthos – From Nothing Review

By Dear Hollow

It’s sexy when things you love collide with things you hate. My lust for mathcore is well-established – I go hard for that mind-numbing dyscalculic tinnitus any day – but if you put a slab of prog metal in front of me, I’m gonna go as flaccid as a gummy worm in a hot car faster than you can say “Wilderun.” That’s Benthos. The Italian collective slides a platter of progressive rock’s lush, ambivalent, and emotive movements alongside mathcore’s jagged edges and feral energy, and you’re guaranteed to find something you’ll love and hate – and get hot and bothered by. It’s core’s sellout and prog’s elitism personified in the dichotomy of the heavenly and hellish – yet in your divinely appointed and coarsely deadly free will, you decide which is which. In the words of the wisest, “yeet and yoink” with this particular Haken-themed hatefuck.

Benthos has been around since 2018, and gained recognition in their hometown of Milan by opening for The Contortionist and appearing in the Dissonance Festival in 2023. From Nothing is their debut full-length, although they released the ironically titled EP/mini-album II in 2021. Settled upon a foundation of lush melodies and evasive chord progressions before exploding into frantic Dillinger-inspired rhythm abuse, the act wavers between super serious and frantically silly, soulful cleans colliding haphazardly with demonic shrieks. From Nothing is ambitious in fusing two styles strangely congruous but also not at all, but in the end Benthos is exactly split down the middle, its arrhythmic beatdowns stealing the spotlight from masturbatory prog sections, blurring into some ambivalently erotic background.

First glances of Benthos are synth-heavy progressions and killer vocals. Gabriele Landillo has a formidable set of pipes, their post-hardcore-meets-Chino Moreno vibe lending a creeping sexiness (“Let Me Plunge,” “The Giant Child”) and a desperate belt that adds serious dynamic and show-stealing propensity (“From Nothing,” “Pure”), keeping the more uninteresting passages from descending into drearier monotony. Without careful listening, however, the proggier tracks blur together in a blurry pastel mesh in sprawling layered atmospheric rock tricks – serious synth on guitar action – with interspersed chuggy portions, feeling like a less nuanced songwriting a la (recent) The Contortionist or The Fall of Troy. Speaking of your favorite dark romance crooner Chino, From Nothing feels quite a bit like Deftones’ Gore in its decision to put include metal as a mere monument marker on the jaded journey to the pits of prog – ultimately, a bit of a cockblock. Benthos mixing is likewise stellar, Alberto Fiorani’s dummy thicc bass as audible as the cheek-clapping guitars and slamming drums.

Of its two audio halves, Benthos’ more chaotic mathcore attacks offer the best listening experience. After the vastly longwinded four-song introductory blur, the intro to “As a Cordyceps” introduces what makes From Nothing worth a bit more. Practically brimming with energy, the mathcore technicality and hardcore intensity finally kick in. This continues into the easy highlights that dispense the prog fluff into something that feels cutthroat and quirky, wonky leads weaponized with nimble and mind-bending rhythms (“Fossil,” “Athletic Worms,” “Perpetual Drone Monkeys”). These give Benthos more breathing room when the proggy sensibilities raise their ill-smelling feet, offering nuance to otherwise unwelcoming rooms. These also incorporate more of these chunkier vibes into more mundane moments, letting the rhythms inject a tasteful – albeit short-lived – dose of intensity (“The Giant Child,” “Pure”).

The best and worst part about From Nothing is that Benthos manages to sound both bored to tears and absolutely apeshit depending on which part you tune into. Its moments of unhinged insanity are too few and far between to warrant consistency or balance… or a solid recommendation. But if you’re like Dolphin Whisperer and like your music hot and heavy, while disrobing From Nothing’s many sexy layers and textured sprawls, take a cold shower before venturing out to pick up a copy.1 Benthos offers promise with the softness for the foreplay and the vigor for the penetration, but From Nothing has difficulty keeping it up across its forty-five minute runtime with too-long portions of pretty monotony2 and excessive indulgence,3 but armed with a vocalist both sexy and devastating and an instrumental presence as bonkers as it is patient… goddammit, I need a cold shower now.4

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Inside Out Music
Websites: benthosmusic.bandcamp.com | benthos-band.com | facebook.com/benthosbandofficial
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Benthos #Deftones #FromNothing #Haken #InsideOutMusic #ItalianMetal #Mathcore #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #Review #Reviews #TheContortionist #TheDillingerEscapePlan #TheFallOfTroy #Wilderun

Benthos – From Nothing Review

By Dear Hollow

It’s sexy when things you love collide with things you hate. My lust for mathcore is well-established – I go hard for that mind-numbing dyscalculic tinnitus any day – but if you put a slab of prog metal in front of me, I’m gonna go as flaccid as a gummy worm in a hot car faster than you can say “Wilderun.” That’s Benthos. The Italian collective slides a platter of progressive rock’s lush, ambivalent, and emotive movements alongside mathcore’s jagged edges and feral energy, and you’re guaranteed to find something you’ll love and hate – and get hot and bothered by. It’s core’s sellout and prog’s elitism personified in the dichotomy of the heavenly and hellish – yet in your divinely appointed and coarsely deadly free will, you decide which is which. In the words of the wisest, “yeet and yoink” with this particular Haken-themed hatefuck.

Benthos has been around since 2018, and gained recognition in their hometown of Milan by opening for The Contortionist and appearing in the Dissonance Festival in 2023. From Nothing is their debut full-length, although they released the ironically titled EP/mini-album II in 2021. Settled upon a foundation of lush melodies and evasive chord progressions before exploding into frantic Dillinger-inspired rhythm abuse, the act wavers between super serious and frantically silly, soulful cleans colliding haphazardly with demonic shrieks. From Nothing is ambitious in fusing two styles strangely congruous but also not at all, but in the end Benthos is exactly split down the middle, its arrhythmic beatdowns stealing the spotlight from masturbatory prog sections, blurring into some ambivalently erotic background.

First glances of Benthos are synth-heavy progressions and killer vocals. Gabriele Landillo has a formidable set of pipes, their post-hardcore-meets-Chino Moreno vibe lending a creeping sexiness (“Let Me Plunge,” “The Giant Child”) and a desperate belt that adds serious dynamic and show-stealing propensity (“From Nothing,” “Pure”), keeping the more uninteresting passages from descending into drearier monotony. Without careful listening, however, the proggier tracks blur together in a blurry pastel mesh in sprawling layered atmospheric rock tricks – serious synth on guitar action – with interspersed chuggy portions, feeling like a less nuanced songwriting a la (recent) The Contortionist or The Fall of Troy. Speaking of your favorite dark romance crooner Chino, From Nothing feels quite a bit like Deftones’ Gore in its decision to put include metal as a mere monument marker on the jaded journey to the pits of prog – ultimately, a bit of a cockblock. Benthos mixing is likewise stellar, Alberto Fiorani’s dummy thicc bass as audible as the cheek-clapping guitars and slamming drums.

Of its two audio halves, Benthos’ more chaotic mathcore attacks offer the best listening experience. After the vastly longwinded four-song introductory blur, the intro to “As a Cordyceps” introduces what makes From Nothing worth a bit more. Practically brimming with energy, the mathcore technicality and hardcore intensity finally kick in. This continues into the easy highlights that dispense the prog fluff into something that feels cutthroat and quirky, wonky leads weaponized with nimble and mind-bending rhythms (“Fossil,” “Athletic Worms,” “Perpetual Drone Monkeys”). These give Benthos more breathing room when the proggy sensibilities raise their ill-smelling feet, offering nuance to otherwise unwelcoming rooms. These also incorporate more of these chunkier vibes into more mundane moments, letting the rhythms inject a tasteful – albeit short-lived – dose of intensity (“The Giant Child,” “Pure”).

The best and worst part about From Nothing is that Benthos manages to sound both bored to tears and absolutely apeshit depending on which part you tune into. Its moments of unhinged insanity are too few and far between to warrant consistency or balance… or a solid recommendation. But if you’re like Dolphin Whisperer and like your music hot and heavy, while disrobing From Nothing’s many sexy layers and textured sprawls, take a cold shower before venturing out to pick up a copy.1 Benthos offers promise with the softness for the foreplay and the vigor for the penetration, but From Nothing has difficulty keeping it up across its forty-five minute runtime with too-long portions of pretty monotony2 and excessive indulgence,3 but armed with a vocalist both sexy and devastating and an instrumental presence as bonkers as it is patient… goddammit, I need a cold shower now.4

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Inside Out Music
Websites: benthosmusic.bandcamp.com | benthos-band.com | facebook.com/benthosbandofficial
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Benthos #Deftones #FromNothing #Haken #InsideOutMusic #ItalianMetal #Mathcore #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #Review #Reviews #TheContortionist #TheDillingerEscapePlan #TheFallOfTroy #Wilderun

Benthos – From Nothing Review

By Dear Hollow

It’s sexy when things you love collide with things you hate. My lust for mathcore is well-established – I go hard for that mind-numbing dyscalculic tinnitus any day – but if you put a slab of prog metal in front of me, I’m gonna go as flaccid as a gummy worm in a hot car faster than you can say “Wilderun.” That’s Benthos. The Italian collective slides a platter of progressive rock’s lush, ambivalent, and emotive movements alongside mathcore’s jagged edges and feral energy, and you’re guaranteed to find something you’ll love and hate – and get hot and bothered by. It’s core’s sellout and prog’s elitism personified in the dichotomy of the heavenly and hellish – yet in your divinely appointed and coarsely deadly free will, you decide which is which. In the words of the wisest, “yeet and yoink” with this particular Haken-themed hatefuck.

Benthos has been around since 2018, and gained recognition in their hometown of Milan by opening for The Contortionist and appearing in the Dissonance Festival in 2023. From Nothing is their debut full-length, although they released the ironically titled EP/mini-album II in 2021. Settled upon a foundation of lush melodies and evasive chord progressions before exploding into frantic Dillinger-inspired rhythm abuse, the act wavers between super serious and frantically silly, soulful cleans colliding haphazardly with demonic shrieks. From Nothing is ambitious in fusing two styles strangely congruous but also not at all, but in the end Benthos is exactly split down the middle, its arrhythmic beatdowns stealing the spotlight from masturbatory prog sections, blurring into some ambivalently erotic background.

First glances of Benthos are synth-heavy progressions and killer vocals. Gabriele Landillo has a formidable set of pipes, their post-hardcore-meets-Chino Moreno vibe lending a creeping sexiness (“Let Me Plunge,” “The Giant Child”) and a desperate belt that adds serious dynamic and show-stealing propensity (“From Nothing,” “Pure”), keeping the more uninteresting passages from descending into drearier monotony. Without careful listening, however, the proggier tracks blur together in a blurry pastel mesh in sprawling layered atmospheric rock tricks – serious synth on guitar action – with interspersed chuggy portions, feeling like a less nuanced songwriting a la (recent) The Contortionist or The Fall of Troy. Speaking of your favorite dark romance crooner Chino, From Nothing feels quite a bit like Deftones’ Gore in its decision to put include metal as a mere monument marker on the jaded journey to the pits of prog – ultimately, a bit of a cockblock. Benthos mixing is likewise stellar, Alberto Fiorani’s dummy thicc bass as audible as the cheek-clapping guitars and slamming drums.

Of its two audio halves, Benthos’ more chaotic mathcore attacks offer the best listening experience. After the vastly longwinded four-song introductory blur, the intro to “As a Cordyceps” introduces what makes From Nothing worth a bit more. Practically brimming with energy, the mathcore technicality and hardcore intensity finally kick in. This continues into the easy highlights that dispense the prog fluff into something that feels cutthroat and quirky, wonky leads weaponized with nimble and mind-bending rhythms (“Fossil,” “Athletic Worms,” “Perpetual Drone Monkeys”). These give Benthos more breathing room when the proggy sensibilities raise their ill-smelling feet, offering nuance to otherwise unwelcoming rooms. These also incorporate more of these chunkier vibes into more mundane moments, letting the rhythms inject a tasteful – albeit short-lived – dose of intensity (“The Giant Child,” “Pure”).

The best and worst part about From Nothing is that Benthos manages to sound both bored to tears and absolutely apeshit depending on which part you tune into. Its moments of unhinged insanity are too few and far between to warrant consistency or balance… or a solid recommendation. But if you’re like Dolphin Whisperer and like your music hot and heavy, while disrobing From Nothing’s many sexy layers and textured sprawls, take a cold shower before venturing out to pick up a copy.1 Benthos offers promise with the softness for the foreplay and the vigor for the penetration, but From Nothing has difficulty keeping it up across its forty-five minute runtime with too-long portions of pretty monotony2 and excessive indulgence,3 but armed with a vocalist both sexy and devastating and an instrumental presence as bonkers as it is patient… goddammit, I need a cold shower now.4

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Inside Out Music
Websites: benthosmusic.bandcamp.com | benthos-band.com | facebook.com/benthosbandofficial
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Benthos #Deftones #FromNothing #Haken #InsideOutMusic #ItalianMetal #Mathcore #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #Review #Reviews #TheContortionist #TheDillingerEscapePlan #TheFallOfTroy #Wilderun

Cave Sermon – Fragile Wings Review

By Thus Spoke

For the second year in a row, I was blindsided by a silent Cave Sermon drop. At least it didn’t take me 11 months to catch up this time.1 Album number three, Fragile Wings, sees Charlie Parks returning as a solo act, but now handling vocals on top of everything else. This latter is a welcome development, given how well the previous record proved vocals complement and enhance the unique musical style. After Divine Laughter blew my socks off and nonchalantly pushed its way to the top half of my 2024 year-end list, a follow-up so soon filled me with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Surely he couldn’t do it again? But, of course, he has.

Fragile Wings is instantly recognisable as Cave Sermon, but rather than simply being Divine Laughter part two—not that I would have complained about that—it is tonally quite different. Different, but with the same dreamlike longing at its core. Whereas its predecessor felt nihilistic and angry, Fragile Wings is a little more vulnerable, a little sadder, and more wistful. This shines through the now more prominent melodies, which feel playful and exuberant, in the beguiling way that characterises Cave Sermon’s sound. Fluid layers of liquid strums, riffs that vibrate alternately with urgency and mirth (“Hopeless Magic,” “”Moloch”), and tremolos that burr and hum as much as they warble like songbirds up and down scales (“Three-Headed Moth,” “Ancient to Someone”). The untamed tempos that lead tracks through a series of stomps, sways, charges, and thoughtful pauses are more mischievous than before, in a way that makes explicit the spirited defiance that bubbled within Divine Laughter. Parks’ vocals work just as well as Miguel Méndez’s did, if not better, against this vibrant backdrop, and there’s an additional weight given to the already strange and touching lyrics because their author is now delivering them himself.

Fragile Wings is stirring and vivacious, and somehow outdoes Divine Laughter in its sparkling dynamism and bright unusualness. After arresting with odd, colourful arrangements, Cave Sermon looks wryly over at the listener and says, “watch this,” as some effervescent lead comes frolicking in (“Moloch,” “Three-Headed Moth”), or an already satisfying groove switches to a new dance with a flick and a crash (“Hopeless Magic,” “Ancient for Someone”); you can’t help but smile back. The very way guitars are distorted, and the atmosphere surrounding their notes and the here-skittish, there-assertive percussion, is…different. And this is all charming because it’s not self-indulgent; not weird and challenging and complicated, but refreshing, like a splash of cool water to the face on a hot day. All the more so given how Cave Sermon makes it look easy, creating a soundscape that seems simpler than it is, managing to presage and reprise melodies and rhythms in a way I can only describe as “very cool.” Interwoven strands of ethereal ambience—warm strums and purring high notes (“Arrows and Clay,” “Sunless Morning”)—violent sludgy riffs and a tripping, resonant drumbeat (“Moloch,” “Ancient for Someone”); symphonies of burbling tremolo and synths (“Hopeless Magic,” “Ancient for Someone”); and the delicate assuredness of wavering melodies, each are so carefully placed, but weightless, as though carried by some spirited wind that breezes through each track.

In this organic, careless novelty and expression, Fragile Wings continues what Divine Laughter established, but does it better. Not only is it more poignant, it flows with a more tangible through-line, and even cleverer rhythmic interplay. There is no track-length ambient noise here; this tendency is relegated to the faded conversation that closes “Arrows and Clay,” and the birdsong scattered over the serene first act of “Sunless Morning.” The difference is that these are not divorced from the music, but part of it, contributing to its sense of nostalgia, and sombre reflectiveness. A harsher version of me would still argue that the first half of “Sunless Morning” is a bit too slow of a build, but another would gesture fanatically at the song’s second act, with its quaking bass refrain and heartfelt tremolo descent melody that might actually be the best on the album, before it enters another wild dance I won’t spoil. Cave Sermon has refined their ability to transition between energies and styles whilst keeping the tone consistent. So seamless is the integration that it no longer feels like multiple genres are in play, but like a new one entirely.

Fragile Wings confirms what I had secretly hoped, that Divine Laughter was not just lightning in a bottle. If anything, it only raises the bar. Cave Sermon create music that is some magical combination of emotionally stirring, endlessly engrossing, and completely unique. There is simply no other artist in metal making music like them.2 You have to hear this.

Rating: Excellent3
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 16th, 2025

Show 3 footnotes

1. Thank you, Dolph. ↩
2. If there is, please tell me who they are. ↩
3. Watch this space for a possible contrite upgrade. ↩

#2025 #45 #Apr25 #AustralianMetal #BlackMetal #CaveSermon #DeathMetal #ExperimentalMetal #FragileWings #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #Sludge

Cave Sermon – Fragile Wings Review

By Thus Spoke

For the second year in a row, I was blindsided by a silent Cave Sermon drop. At least it didn’t take me 11 months to catch up this time.1 Album number three, Fragile Wings, sees Charlie Parks returning as a solo act, but now handling vocals on top of everything else. This latter is a welcome development, given how well the previous record proved vocals complement and enhance the unique musical style. After Divine Laughter blew my socks off and nonchalantly pushed its way to the top half of my 2024 year-end list, a follow-up so soon filled me with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Surely he couldn’t do it again? But, of course, he has.

Fragile Wings is instantly recognisable as Cave Sermon, but rather than simply being Divine Laughter part two—not that I would have complained about that—it is tonally quite different. Different, but with the same dreamlike longing at its core. Whereas its predecessor felt nihilistic and angry, Fragile Wings is a little more vulnerable, a little sadder, and more wistful. This shines through the now more prominent melodies, which feel playful and exuberant, in the beguiling way that characterises Cave Sermon’s sound. Fluid layers of liquid strums, riffs that vibrate alternately with urgency and mirth (“Hopeless Magic,” “”Moloch”), and tremolos that burr and hum as much as they warble like songbirds up and down scales (“Three-Headed Moth,” “Ancient to Someone”). The untamed tempos that lead tracks through a series of stomps, sways, charges, and thoughtful pauses are more mischievous than before, in a way that makes explicit the spirited defiance that bubbled within Divine Laughter. Parks’ vocals work just as well as Miguel Méndez’s did, if not better, against this vibrant backdrop, and there’s an additional weight given to the already strange and touching lyrics because their author is now delivering them himself.

Fragile Wings is stirring and vivacious, and somehow outdoes Divine Laughter in its sparkling dynamism and bright unusualness. After arresting with odd, colourful arrangements, Cave Sermon looks wryly over at the listener and says, “watch this,” as some effervescent lead comes frolicking in (“Moloch,” “Three-Headed Moth”), or an already satisfying groove switches to a new dance with a flick and a crash (“Hopeless Magic,” “Ancient for Someone”); you can’t help but smile back. The very way guitars are distorted, and the atmosphere surrounding their notes and the here-skittish, there-assertive percussion, is…different. And this is all charming because it’s not self-indulgent; not weird and challenging and complicated, but refreshing, like a splash of cool water to the face on a hot day. All the more so given how Cave Sermon makes it look easy, creating a soundscape that seems simpler than it is, managing to presage and reprise melodies and rhythms in a way I can only describe as “very cool.” Interwoven strands of ethereal ambience—warm strums and purring high notes (“Arrows and Clay,” “Sunless Morning”)—violent sludgy riffs and a tripping, resonant drumbeat (“Moloch,” “Ancient for Someone”); symphonies of burbling tremolo and synths (“Hopeless Magic,” “Ancient for Someone”); and the delicate assuredness of wavering melodies, each are so carefully placed, but weightless, as though carried by some spirited wind that breezes through each track.

In this organic, careless novelty and expression, Fragile Wings continues what Divine Laughter established, but does it better. Not only is it more poignant, it flows with a more tangible through-line, and even cleverer rhythmic interplay. There is no track-length ambient noise here; this tendency is relegated to the faded conversation that closes “Arrows and Clay,” and the birdsong scattered over the serene first act of “Sunless Morning.” The difference is that these are not divorced from the music, but part of it, contributing to its sense of nostalgia, and sombre reflectiveness. A harsher version of me would still argue that the first half of “Sunless Morning” is a bit too slow of a build, but another would gesture fanatically at the song’s second act, with its quaking bass refrain and heartfelt tremolo descent melody that might actually be the best on the album, before it enters another wild dance I won’t spoil. Cave Sermon has refined their ability to transition between energies and styles whilst keeping the tone consistent. So seamless is the integration that it no longer feels like multiple genres are in play, but like a new one entirely.

Fragile Wings confirms what I had secretly hoped, that Divine Laughter was not just lightning in a bottle. If anything, it only raises the bar. Cave Sermon create music that is some magical combination of emotionally stirring, endlessly engrossing, and completely unique. There is simply no other artist in metal making music like them.2 You have to hear this.

Rating: Excellent3
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 16th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Apr25 #AustralianMetal #BlackMetal #CaveSermon #DeathMetal #ExperimentalMetal #FragileWings #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #Sludge

Structure – Heritage Review

By Steel Druhm

Just when I thought I’d make it to May without awarding the coveted Steel ov Approval, an unheralded project erupts from the Netherlands and forces my unwilling hand. Structure is the labor of love of Bram Bijlhout, who served seven years as a guitarist in atmo-doom deathers Officium Triste. Now he’s putting his own spin on the genre, handling everything save for vocals and drums. In comes the esteemed Pim Blankenstein, also of Officium Triste and The 11th Hour, to handle the former, with Dirk Bruinenberg (Elegy, ex-Adagio) manning the latter. On the full-length debut, Structure prove this project can honor the doom Heritage that birthed it. This is a massive, monolithic slab of doom that paints a sweeping mural across your head and heart, all in gray and black. Crushing and gorgeous in equal parts, Heritage takes you on an immersive journey through the human experience, teaching you about fathomless despair, undying hope, and ultimately, redemption. It’s a staggering work of heartbreaking genius, and something every doom fan needs to know about.

The album opens with what may be the hands-down winner of Song o’ the Year, “Will I Deserve It.” It’s a monumental doom epic that caves in your chest with its raw power and brings a tear to the most jaded eye with its heart-wrenching beauty. Vaguely Bathorycore riffs thunder away as Pim emits inhumanly death bellows, and soon the melancholic trilling calls to the sadperson in all of us. It’s heavy as fook but maintains a forlorn, tragic air, taking one back to the glory days of the Peaceville Three and those early My Dying Bride and Anathema gems. When Bram cuts loose with his soloing at the 4-minute mark, bittersweet beauty blooms like springtime flowers over the grave of a dearly departed, like a gift to remind you that, no matter where their spirit roams, they’re with you always. I could write 750 words about this song alone, but suffice it to say, it’s brilliant. It’s the rare album that can match a radiant moment like this one, but Heritage is far from done with its smoke show. “What We Have Lost” drags things down into funeral doom territory for rib-cracking density before gradually evolving into a more melodic voyage. Bram’s emotive guitar weaves throughout the heaviness as minimalist piano lines plink mournfully, and Mr. Pim shakes the rafters with unbearable pain. It’s a wonder something this intensely despondent can be so captivating, but despite its nearly 8-minute runtime, when it ends, you’ll wish it hadn’t.

“Long Before Me” is even longer yet no less stunning. It’s so morose and gloriously depressive, it’s almost exhilarating. It sucks you in with its funereal trilling and carries you away in its dark embrace. The guitars from 5 minutes onward are so minimalist but pure perfection. The title track borrows much from Warning’s timeless Watching from a Distance, replicating that album’s unrelenting glumness perfectly, only to switch to Bolt Thrower-esque power chugs that threaten your very existence. Surrounding these moments are bright, melodic bits that take me back to Edge of Sanity’s Crimson. Closer “Until the Last Gasp” is a somber instrumental that imparts the same grim emptiness evoked by the denouement of Agalloch’s Ashes Against the Grain, making one feel as if they stand at the precipice of a swirling, matter-annihilating black hole. As the track advances, small hints of hope creep into the droning doom, imparting faint rays of light into the inky blackness. The album climaxes with horns blaring a sad but cautiously uplifting note, giving you the perfect ending to a truly stupendous journey. At 50 minutes, Heritage somehow feels much shorter, and despite the harrowing despair, you won’t want to escape its bleak cocoon. It almost hurts to hear the last strains fade away into silence. I haven’t had that experience in a long time. I’m at a loss to find flaws, and no song feels overlong or bloated. This is an album you must experience as a whole, and it’s shockingly easy to digest in its entirety.

I’m nothing but impressed by what Bram accomplished here. His writing is at another level, and his guitar work is stunning. He does so much by doing so little, always opting for feeling over showboating. His melodic touches are perfect and arrive at ideal times to take some of the burden from the listener’s shoulders. His heavy riffing is spot on, oppressive, pulverizing, and inevitable. He shows a great ability to inject real emotion into the music without leaning too much on Goth idioms. It’s all so well-crafted and defined that Heritage is more like a master’s canvas than a recording. Many moments triggered an emotional response in me, though I strenuously resist such things. Mr. Blankenstein was the perfect choice to provide vocals. His ungodly death roars are powerful and tooth-rattling, and he pairs superbly with the larger-than-life material. He’s the ideal doom-death front man, and this may be his finest hour. Ayreon / Star One singer Robert Soeterboek provides very sparse, understated, clean vocals and does a fine job.

When you spin an album as heavy and depressive as this and immediately want to hit replay, there’s something very right about it, and something very wrong with you. Heritage is as close to flawless as it gets, and I’m unable to pinpoint any areas that could be improved upon. This is a stunning accomplishment, and I can’t do Heritage justice with mere words. You need to experience this yourself. A MUST HEAR.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ardua Music
Websites: structure-doom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/structure.doom
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Anathema #Apr25 #ArduaMusic #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #DutchMetal #Heritage #MyDyingBride #OfficiumTriste #Review #Reviews #Structure #The11thHour #Warning

Structure – Heritage Review

By Steel Druhm

Just when I thought I’d make it to May without awarding the coveted Steel ov Approval, an unheralded project erupts from the Netherlands and forces my unwilling hand. Structure is the labor of love of Bram Bijlhout, who served seven years as a guitarist in atmo-doom deathers Officium Triste. Now he’s putting his own spin on the genre, handling everything save for vocals and drums. In comes the esteemed Pim Blankenstein, also of Officium Triste and The 11th Hour, to handle the former, with Dirk Bruinenberg (Elegy, ex-Adagio) manning the latter. On the full-length debut, Structure prove this project can honor the doom Heritage that birthed it. This is a massive, monolithic slab of doom that paints a sweeping mural across your head and heart, all in gray and black. Crushing and gorgeous in equal parts, Heritage takes you on an immersive journey through the human experience, teaching you about fathomless despair, undying hope, and ultimately, redemption. It’s a staggering work of heartbreaking genius, and something every doom fan needs to know about.

The album opens with what may be the hands-down winner of Song o’ the Year, “Will I Deserve It.” It’s a monumental doom epic that caves in your chest with its raw power and brings a tear to the most jaded eye with its heart-wrenching beauty. Vaguely Bathorycore riffs thunder away as Pim emits inhumanly death bellows, and soon the melancholic trilling calls to the sadperson in all of us. It’s heavy as fook but maintains a forlorn, tragic air, taking one back to the glory days of the Peaceville Three and those early My Dying Bride and Anathema gems. When Bram cuts loose with his soloing at the 4-minute mark, bittersweet beauty blooms like springtime flowers over the grave of a dearly departed, like a gift to remind you that, no matter where their spirit roams, they’re with you always. I could write 750 words about this song alone, but suffice it to say, it’s brilliant. It’s the rare album that can match a radiant moment like this one, but Heritage is far from done with its smoke show. “What We Have Lost” drags things down into funeral doom territory for rib-cracking density before gradually evolving into a more melodic voyage. Bram’s emotive guitar weaves throughout the heaviness as minimalist piano lines plink mournfully, and Mr. Pim shakes the rafters with unbearable pain. It’s a wonder something this intensely despondent can be so captivating, but despite its nearly 8-minute runtime, when it ends, you’ll wish it hadn’t.

“Long Before Me” is even longer yet no less stunning. It’s so morose and gloriously depressive, it’s almost exhilarating. It sucks you in with its funereal trilling and carries you away in its dark embrace. The guitars from 5 minutes onward are so minimalist but pure perfection. The title track borrows much from Warning’s timeless Watching from a Distance, replicating that album’s unrelenting glumness perfectly, only to switch to Bolt Thrower-esque power chugs that threaten your very existence. Surrounding these moments are bright, melodic bits that take me back to Edge of Sanity’s Crimson. Closer “Until the Last Gasp” is a somber instrumental that imparts the same grim emptiness evoked by the denouement of Agalloch’s Ashes Against the Grain, making one feel as if they stand at the precipice of a swirling, matter-annihilating black hole. As the track advances, small hints of hope creep into the droning doom, imparting faint rays of light into the inky blackness. The album climaxes with horns blaring a sad but cautiously uplifting note, giving you the perfect ending to a truly stupendous journey. At 50 minutes, Heritage somehow feels much shorter, and despite the harrowing despair, you won’t want to escape its bleak cocoon. It almost hurts to hear the last strains fade away into silence. I haven’t had that experience in a long time. I’m at a loss to find flaws, and no song feels overlong or bloated. This is an album you must experience as a whole, and it’s shockingly easy to digest in its entirety.

I’m nothing but impressed by what Bram accomplished here. His writing is at another level, and his guitar work is stunning. He does so much by doing so little, always opting for feeling over showboating. His melodic touches are perfect and arrive at ideal times to take some of the burden from the listener’s shoulders. His heavy riffing is spot on, oppressive, pulverizing, and inevitable. He shows a great ability to inject real emotion into the music without leaning too much on Goth idioms. It’s all so well-crafted and defined that Heritage is more like a master’s canvas than a recording. Many moments triggered an emotional response in me, though I strenuously resist such things. Mr. Blankenstein was the perfect choice to provide vocals. His ungodly death roars are powerful and tooth-rattling, and he pairs superbly with the larger-than-life material. He’s the ideal doom-death front man, and this may be his finest hour. Ayreon / Star One singer Robert Soeterboek provides very sparse, understated, clean vocals and does a fine job.

When you spin an album as heavy and depressive as this and immediately want to hit replay, there’s something very right about it, and something very wrong with you. Heritage is as close to flawless as it gets, and I’m unable to pinpoint any areas that could be improved upon. This is a stunning accomplishment, and I can’t do Heritage justice with mere words. You need to experience this yourself. A MUST HEAR.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ardua Music
Websites: structure-doom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/structure.doom
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Anathema #Apr25 #ArduaMusic #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #DutchMetal #Heritage #MyDyingBride #OfficiumTriste #Review #Reviews #Structure #The11thHour #Warning

Structure – Heritage Review

By Steel Druhm

Just when I thought I’d make it to May without awarding the coveted Steel ov Approval, an unheralded project erupts from the Netherlands and forces my unwilling hand. Structure is the labor of love of Bram Bijlhout, who served seven years as a guitarist in atmo-doom deathers Officium Triste. Now he’s putting his own spin on the genre, handling everything save for vocals and drums. In comes the esteemed Pim Blankenstein, also of Officium Triste and The 11th Hour, to handle the former, with Dirk Bruinenberg (Elegy, ex-Adagio) manning the latter. On the full-length debut, Structure prove this project can honor the doom Heritage that birthed it. This is a massive, monolithic slab of doom that paints a sweeping mural across your head and heart, all in gray and black. Crushing and gorgeous in equal parts, Heritage takes you on an immersive journey through the human experience, teaching you about fathomless despair, undying hope, and ultimately, redemption. It’s a staggering work of heartbreaking genius, and something every doom fan needs to know about.

The album opens with what may be the hands-down winner of Song o’ the Year, “Will I Deserve It.” It’s a monumental doom epic that caves in your chest with its raw power and brings a tear to the most jaded eye with its heart-wrenching beauty. Vaguely Bathorycore riffs thunder away as Pim emits inhumanly death bellows, and soon the melancholic trilling calls to the sadperson in all of us. It’s heavy as fook but maintains a forlorn, tragic air, taking one back to the glory days of the Peaceville Three and those early My Dying Bride and Anathema gems. When Bram cuts loose with his soloing at the 4-minute mark, bittersweet beauty blooms like springtime flowers over the grave of a dearly departed, like a gift to remind you that, no matter where their spirit roams, they’re with you always. I could write 750 words about this song alone, but suffice it to say, it’s brilliant. It’s the rare album that can match a radiant moment like this one, but Heritage is far from done with its smoke show. “What We Have Lost” drags things down into funeral doom territory for rib-cracking density before gradually evolving into a more melodic voyage. Bram’s emotive guitar weaves throughout the heaviness as minimalist piano lines plink mournfully, and Mr. Pim shakes the rafters with unbearable pain. It’s a wonder something this intensely despondent can be so captivating, but despite its nearly 8-minute runtime, when it ends, you’ll wish it hadn’t.

“Long Before Me” is even longer yet no less stunning. It’s so morose and gloriously depressive, it’s almost exhilarating. It sucks you in with its funereal trilling and carries you away in its dark embrace. The guitars from 5 minutes onward are so minimalist but pure perfection. The title track borrows much from Warning’s timeless Watching from a Distance, replicating that album’s unrelenting glumness perfectly, only to switch to Bolt Thrower-esque power chugs that threaten your very existence. Surrounding these moments are bright, melodic bits that take me back to Edge of Sanity’s Crimson. Closer “Until the Last Gasp” is a somber instrumental that imparts the same grim emptiness evoked by the denouement of Agalloch’s Ashes Against the Grain, making one feel as if they stand at the precipice of a swirling, matter-annihilating black hole. As the track advances, small hints of hope creep into the droning doom, imparting faint rays of light into the inky blackness. The album climaxes with horns blaring a sad but cautiously uplifting note, giving you the perfect ending to a truly stupendous journey. At 50 minutes, Heritage somehow feels much shorter, and despite the harrowing despair, you won’t want to escape its bleak cocoon. It almost hurts to hear the last strains fade away into silence. I haven’t had that experience in a long time. I’m at a loss to find flaws, and no song feels overlong or bloated. This is an album you must experience as a whole, and it’s shockingly easy to digest in its entirety.

I’m nothing but impressed by what Bram accomplished here. His writing is at another level, and his guitar work is stunning. He does so much by doing so little, always opting for feeling over showboating. His melodic touches are perfect and arrive at ideal times to take some of the burden from the listener’s shoulders. His heavy riffing is spot on, oppressive, pulverizing, and inevitable. He shows a great ability to inject real emotion into the music without leaning too much on Goth idioms. It’s all so well-crafted and defined that Heritage is more like a master’s canvas than a recording. Many moments triggered an emotional response in me, though I strenuously resist such things. Mr. Blankenstein was the perfect choice to provide vocals. His ungodly death roars are powerful and tooth-rattling, and he pairs superbly with the larger-than-life material. He’s the ideal doom-death front man, and this may be his finest hour. Ayreon / Star One singer Robert Soeterboek provides very sparse, understated, clean vocals and does a fine job.

When you spin an album as heavy and depressive as this and immediately want to hit replay, there’s something very right about it, and something very wrong with you. Heritage is as close to flawless as it gets, and I’m unable to pinpoint any areas that could be improved upon. This is a stunning accomplishment, and I can’t do Heritage justice with mere words. You need to experience this yourself. A MUST HEAR.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ardua Music
Websites: structure-doom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/structure.doom
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Anathema #Apr25 #ArduaMusic #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #DutchMetal #Heritage #MyDyingBride #OfficiumTriste #Review #Reviews #Structure #The11thHour #Warning

Changeling – Changeling Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Creation, evaluation, iteration—art lives and transforms an untold number of times before its flesh lays bare for a dissecting audience. Thus, the album runs on a path of turns sharp, around, back again—whatever it takes—before the artist declares it enough. Tom Geldschläger has worn many musical lives, both under his given moniker and “Fountainhead” with acclaimed acts like Obscura and Ingurgitating Oblivion, and as a performer/engineer. And now, with Changeling, Geldschläger seeks to express a culmination of his works, partnerships, and curiosities in a grand exploration of his unique fretless guitar stylings amongst progressive, orchestral, and deathly conjurings. In the credits alone—over thirty performers with credits ranging from Wagner tuba to marimba to an Andy LaRocque (King Diamond, ex-Illwill) wailing solo—Changeling shows its mutable form forged of virtuosity, novelty, and adventure.

Looking to the past to create a history-laced work with a fresh trajectory holds a foundational pillar throughout Changeling. Consumers of Geldschläger’s past—whether they’ve realized he was part of it or otherwise1—will notice signature shred motifs and Cynic-imbued urgencies that pass through shades of Akróasis (“Instant Results,” “Falling in Circles”),2 with the epic conclusion of “Anathema” holding as a spiritual successor to “Weltseele.” Geldschläger has also accumulated a talented Rolodex along the way, with minor identities like Matthias Preisinger’s (Shape of Dreams) piano and strings and Jan Ferdinand’s (Ingurgitating Oblivion) vibraphonic emissions holding necessary weight against primary contributors like the chameleonic Morean (Alkaloid) on word and voice and virtuoso Arran McSporran (Vipassi, ex-De Profundis) on dancing bass. In the spirit of true collaboration, the resulting Changeling wears progressive music, and its own associated acts, in a vision that screams and scurries and soars into the fade of a thunderous drum strike.

A unifying voice of fretboard bombast holds tight the flow that whips Changeling through its fiery, deathly roots and its experimental crawl and swell. Though progressive and technical death metal begin to define early numbers, Changeling holds loose to genre conventions and pairs playful string ensembles (“Falling in Circles”), rhythm-warping oud tuplets (“World? What World?”), and tabla-guided choirs (“Changeling”). Of course, dissonance in excess and avant-garde-isms can often pose heavy barriers to long-term enjoyment. And though Changeling dabbles plenty in both the ghastly awe of Morean’s off-kilter and emotional vocal charisma (“Abyss” and “Abdication” hosting the greatest highlights), and alien tonal explorations (“Cathexis Interlude”), the weight of diverse riffage and stupefying power of Geldschläger’s fretless anomolies anchor Changeling in masterful songcraft—every song idea cradled and decorated with mischievous flair.

In sequence, Changeling swells from short-form shredscapades (“Instant Results,” “Falling in Circles”) to novella-length celebrations (“Anathema”)—layers of progression towards a whole. Following its escalating narrative, Changeling’s themes follow the spasm of psychedelic expansion (“Instant Results”) to dissociated questioning (“World? What World?”) to ego breakdown (“Abyss”) to awakening and rebirth (“Abdication,” “Anathema”). And despite this overarching cohesion, each successive track introduces a new element, whether it be as simple as the Germanic drama of deep brass (“World? What World?”), as darting as the chase of wobbly percussion (“Changeling”), or as escaping as the Yes-via-Princess Mononoke of dreamlike orchestration (“Abdication”). With every piece finding a return and final hurrah in the throes of “Anathema,” Changeling’s lengthy run feels justified so long as you can give it proper time and space.

And even if you can’t carve an hour to explore Changeling’s enriched and engorged elaborations, the questions that Changeling raises with this fresh take on progressive death metal dig plenty deep, even at the song level. Just how many times does that main ostinato in “World? What World?” jump instruments? Where does one rapid-fire guitar arpeggio end and velvety bass recursion begin in “Instant Results”? Is that slippery lead intro to “Falling in Circles” a bend, a dive, a slide, or some unholy combo of all three? Does any solo compete with the triumphant stutter-to-squeal finale of “Anathema”? Sometimes the answers include a revelation that yes, in its Devin Townsend-y “wall of sound,” Changeling requires some loudness adjustments. And, yes, that snare packs a POW more aggressive than any other sound on the whole album. But after countless dives into its meticulous and eccentric world, it’s apparent that Changeling wears any flaws it may have with an empowering and intoxicating flamboyance.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist | Bandcamp
Websites: thefountainhead.de | changelingofficial.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/changeling.official
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Alkaloid #Apr25 #Changeling #Cynic #DeProfundis #DevinTownsend #GermanMetal #IngurgitatingOblivion #Obscura #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SeasonOfMist #ShapeOfDreams #SymphonicDeathMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #Vipassi #Yes

Changeling – Changeling Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Creation, evaluation, iteration—art lives and transforms an untold number of times before its flesh lays bare for a dissecting audience. Thus, the album runs on a path of turns sharp, around, back again—whatever it takes—before the artist declares it enough. Tom Geldschläger has worn many musical lives, both under his given moniker and “Fountainhead” with acclaimed acts like Obscura and Ingurgitating Oblivion, and as a performer/engineer. And now, with Changeling, Geldschläger seeks to express a culmination of his works, partnerships, and curiosities in a grand exploration of his unique fretless guitar stylings amongst progressive, orchestral, and deathly conjurings. In the credits alone—over thirty performers with credits ranging from Wagner tuba to marimba to an Andy LaRocque (King Diamond, ex-Illwill) wailing solo—Changeling shows its mutable form forged of virtuosity, novelty, and adventure.

Looking to the past to create a history-laced work with a fresh trajectory holds a foundational pillar throughout Changeling. Consumers of Geldschläger’s past—whether they’ve realized he was part of it or otherwise1—will notice signature shred motifs and Cynic-imbued urgencies that pass through shades of Akróasis (“Instant Results,” “Falling in Circles”),2 with the epic conclusion of “Anathema” holding as a spiritual successor to “Weltseele.” Geldschläger has also accumulated a talented Rolodex along the way, with minor identities like Matthias Preisinger’s (Shape of Dreams) piano and strings and Jan Ferdinand’s (Ingurgitating Oblivion) vibraphonic emissions holding necessary weight against primary contributors like the chameleonic Morean (Alkaloid) on word and voice and virtuoso Arran McSporran (Vipassi, ex-De Profundis) on dancing bass. In the spirit of true collaboration, the resulting Changeling wears progressive music, and its own associated acts, in a vision that screams and scurries and soars into the fade of a thunderous drum strike.

A unifying voice of fretboard bombast holds tight the flow that whips Changeling through its fiery, deathly roots and its experimental crawl and swell. Though progressive and technical death metal begin to define early numbers, Changeling holds loose to genre conventions and pairs playful string ensembles (“Falling in Circles”), rhythm-warping oud tuplets (“World? What World?”), and tabla-guided choirs (“Changeling”). Of course, dissonance in excess and avant-garde-isms can often pose heavy barriers to long-term enjoyment. And though Changeling dabbles plenty in both the ghastly awe of Morean’s off-kilter and emotional vocal charisma (“Abyss” and “Abdication” hosting the greatest highlights), and alien tonal explorations (“Cathexis Interlude”), the weight of diverse riffage and stupefying power of Geldschläger’s fretless anomolies anchor Changeling in masterful songcraft—every song idea cradled and decorated with mischievous flair.

In sequence, Changeling swells from short-form shredscapades (“Instant Results,” “Falling in Circles”) to novella-length celebrations (“Anathema”)—layers of progression towards a whole. Following its escalating narrative, Changeling’s themes follow the spasm of psychedelic expansion (“Instant Results”) to dissociated questioning (“World? What World?”) to ego breakdown (“Abyss”) to awakening and rebirth (“Abdication,” “Anathema”). And despite this overarching cohesion, each successive track introduces a new element, whether it be as simple as the Germanic drama of deep brass (“World? What World?”), as darting as the chase of wobbly percussion (“Changeling”), or as escaping as the Yes-via-Princess Mononoke of dreamlike orchestration (“Abdication”). With every piece finding a return and final hurrah in the throes of “Anathema,” Changeling’s lengthy run feels justified so long as you can give it proper time and space.

And even if you can’t carve an hour to explore Changeling’s enriched and engorged elaborations, the questions that Changeling raises with this fresh take on progressive death metal dig plenty deep, even at the song level. Just how many times does that main ostinato in “World? What World?” jump instruments? Where does one rapid-fire guitar arpeggio end and velvety bass recursion begin in “Instant Results”? Is that slippery lead intro to “Falling in Circles” a bend, a dive, a slide, or some unholy combo of all three? Does any solo compete with the triumphant stutter-to-squeal finale of “Anathema”? Sometimes the answers include a revelation that yes, in its Devin Townsend-y “wall of sound,” Changeling requires some loudness adjustments. And, yes, that snare packs a POW more aggressive than any other sound on the whole album. But after countless dives into its meticulous and eccentric world, it’s apparent that Changeling wears any flaws it may have with an empowering and intoxicating flamboyance.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist | Bandcamp
Websites: thefountainhead.de | changelingofficial.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/changeling.official
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Alkaloid #Apr25 #Changeling #Cynic #DeProfundis #DevinTownsend #GermanMetal #IngurgitatingOblivion #Obscura #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SeasonOfMist #ShapeOfDreams #SymphonicDeathMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #Vipassi #Yes

Changeling – Changeling Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Creation, evaluation, iteration—art lives and transforms an untold number of times before its flesh lays bare for a dissecting audience. Thus, the album runs on a path of turns sharp, around, back again—whatever it takes—before the artist declares it enough. Tom Geldschläger has worn many musical lives, both under his given moniker and “Fountainhead” with acclaimed acts like Obscura and Ingurgitating Oblivion, and as a performer/engineer. And now, with Changeling, Geldschläger seeks to express a culmination of his works, partnerships, and curiosities in a grand exploration of his unique fretless guitar stylings amongst progressive, orchestral, and deathly conjurings. In the credits alone—over thirty performers with credits ranging from Wagner tuba to marimba to an Andy LaRocque (King Diamond, ex-Illwill) wailing solo—Changeling shows its mutable form forged of virtuosity, novelty, and adventure.

Looking to the past to create a history-laced work with a fresh trajectory holds a foundational pillar throughout Changeling. Consumers of Geldschläger’s past—whether they’ve realized he was part of it or otherwise1—will notice signature shred motifs and Cynic-imbued urgencies that pass through shades of Akróasis (“Instant Results,” “Falling in Circles”),2 with the epic conclusion of “Anathema” holding as a spiritual successor to “Weltseele.” Geldschläger has also accumulated a talented Rolodex along the way, with minor identities like Matthias Preisinger’s (Shape of Dreams) piano and strings and Jan Ferdinand’s (Ingurgitating Oblivion) vibraphonic emissions holding necessary weight against primary contributors like the chameleonic Morean (Alkaloid) on word and voice and virtuoso Arran McSporran (Vipassi, ex-De Profundis) on dancing bass. In the spirit of true collaboration, the resulting Changeling wears progressive music, and its own associated acts, in a vision that screams and scurries and soars into the fade of a thunderous drum strike.

A unifying voice of fretboard bombast holds tight the flow that whips Changeling through its fiery, deathly roots and its experimental crawl and swell. Though progressive and technical death metal begin to define early numbers, Changeling holds loose to genre conventions and pairs playful string ensembles (“Falling in Circles”), rhythm-warping oud tuplets (“World? What World?”), and tabla-guided choirs (“Changeling”). Of course, dissonance in excess and avant-garde-isms can often pose heavy barriers to long-term enjoyment. And though Changeling dabbles plenty in both the ghastly awe of Morean’s off-kilter and emotional vocal charisma (“Abyss” and “Abdication” hosting the greatest highlights), and alien tonal explorations (“Cathexis Interlude”), the weight of diverse riffage and stupefying power of Geldschläger’s fretless anomolies anchor Changeling in masterful songcraft—every song idea cradled and decorated with mischievous flair.

In sequence, Changeling swells from short-form shredscapades (“Instant Results,” “Falling in Circles”) to novella-length celebrations (“Anathema”)—layers of progression towards a whole. Following its escalating narrative, Changeling’s themes follow the spasm of psychedelic expansion (“Instant Results”) to dissociated questioning (“World? What World?”) to ego breakdown (“Abyss”) to awakening and rebirth (“Abdication,” “Anathema”). And despite this overarching cohesion, each successive track introduces a new element, whether it be as simple as the Germanic drama of deep brass (“World? What World?”), as darting as the chase of wobbly percussion (“Changeling”), or as escaping as the Yes-via-Princess Mononoke of dreamlike orchestration (“Abdication”). With every piece finding a return and final hurrah in the throes of “Anathema,” Changeling’s lengthy run feels justified so long as you can give it proper time and space.

And even if you can’t carve an hour to explore Changeling’s enriched and engorged elaborations, the questions that Changeling raises with this fresh take on progressive death metal dig plenty deep, even at the song level. Just how many times does that main ostinato in “World? What World?” jump instruments? Where does one rapid-fire guitar arpeggio end and velvety bass recursion begin in “Instant Results”? Is that slippery lead intro to “Falling in Circles” a bend, a dive, a slide, or some unholy combo of all three? Does any solo compete with the triumphant stutter-to-squeal finale of “Anathema”? Sometimes the answers include a revelation that yes, in its Devin Townsend-y “wall of sound,” Changeling requires some loudness adjustments. And, yes, that snare packs a POW more aggressive than any other sound on the whole album. But after countless dives into its meticulous and eccentric world, it’s apparent that Changeling wears any flaws it may have with an empowering and intoxicating flamboyance.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist | Bandcamp
Websites: thefountainhead.de | changelingofficial.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/changeling.official
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Alkaloid #Apr25 #Changeling #Cynic #DeProfundis #DevinTownsend #GermanMetal #IngurgitatingOblivion #Obscura #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SeasonOfMist #ShapeOfDreams #SymphonicDeathMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #Vipassi #Yes

Changeling – Changeling Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Creation, evaluation, iteration—art lives and transforms an untold number of times before its flesh lays bare for a dissecting audience. Thus, the album runs on a path of turns sharp, around, back again—whatever it takes—before the artist declares it enough. Tom Geldschläger has worn many musical lives, both under his given moniker and “Fountainhead” with acclaimed acts like Obscura and Ingurgitating Oblivion, and as a performer/engineer. And now, with Changeling, Geldschläger seeks to express a culmination of his works, partnerships, and curiosities in a grand exploration of his unique fretless guitar stylings amongst progressive, orchestral, and deathly conjurings. In the credits alone—over thirty performers with credits ranging from Wagner tuba to marimba to an Andy LaRocque (King Diamond, ex-Illwill) wailing solo—Changeling shows its mutable form forged of virtuosity, novelty, and adventure.

Looking to the past to create a history-laced work with a fresh trajectory holds a foundational pillar throughout Changeling. Consumers of Geldschläger’s past—whether they’ve realized he was part of it or otherwise1—will notice signature shred motifs and Cynic-imbued urgencies that pass through shades of Akróasis (“Instant Results,” “Falling in Circles”),2 with the epic conclusion of “Anathema” holding as a spiritual successor to “Weltseele.” Geldschläger has also accumulated a talented Rolodex along the way, with minor identities like Matthias Preisinger’s (Shape of Dreams) piano and strings and Jan Ferdinand’s (Ingurgitating Oblivion) vibraphonic emissions holding necessary weight against primary contributors like the chameleonic Morean (Alkaloid) on word and voice and virtuoso Arran McSporran (Vipassi, ex-De Profundis) on dancing bass. In the spirit of true collaboration, the resulting Changeling wears progressive music, and its own associated acts, in a vision that screams and scurries and soars into the fade of a thunderous drum strike.

A unifying voice of fretboard bombast holds tight the flow that whips Changeling through its fiery, deathly roots and its experimental crawl and swell. Though progressive and technical death metal begin to define early numbers, Changeling holds loose to genre conventions and pairs playful string ensembles (“Falling in Circles”), rhythm-warping oud tuplets (“World? What World?”), and tabla-guided choirs (“Changeling”). Of course, dissonance in excess and avant-garde-isms can often pose heavy barriers to long-term enjoyment. And though Changeling dabbles plenty in both the ghastly awe of Morean’s off-kilter and emotional vocal charisma (“Abyss” and “Abdication” hosting the greatest highlights), and alien tonal explorations (“Cathexis Interlude”), the weight of diverse riffage and stupefying power of Geldschläger’s fretless anomolies anchor Changeling in masterful songcraft—every song idea cradled and decorated with mischievous flair.

In sequence, Changeling swells from short-form shredscapades (“Instant Results,” “Falling in Circles”) to novella-length celebrations (“Anathema”)—layers of progression towards a whole. Following its escalating narrative, Changeling’s themes follow the spasm of psychedelic expansion (“Instant Results”) to dissociated questioning (“World? What World?”) to ego breakdown (“Abyss”) to awakening and rebirth (“Abdication,” “Anathema”). And despite this overarching cohesion, each successive track introduces a new element, whether it be as simple as the Germanic drama of deep brass (“World? What World?”), as darting as the chase of wobbly percussion (“Changeling”), or as escaping as the Yes-via-Princess Mononoke of dreamlike orchestration (“Abdication”). With every piece finding a return and final hurrah in the throes of “Anathema,” Changeling’s lengthy run feels justified so long as you can give it proper time and space.

And even if you can’t carve an hour to explore Changeling’s enriched and engorged elaborations, the questions that Changeling raises with this fresh take on progressive death metal dig plenty deep, even at the song level. Just how many times does that main ostinato in “World? What World?” jump instruments? Where does one rapid-fire guitar arpeggio end and velvety bass recursion begin in “Instant Results”? Is that slippery lead intro to “Falling in Circles” a bend, a dive, a slide, or some unholy combo of all three? Does any solo compete with the triumphant stutter-to-squeal finale of “Anathema”? Sometimes the answers include a revelation that yes, in its Devin Townsend-y “wall of sound,” Changeling requires some loudness adjustments. And, yes, that snare packs a POW more aggressive than any other sound on the whole album. But after countless dives into its meticulous and eccentric world, it’s apparent that Changeling wears any flaws it may have with an empowering and intoxicating flamboyance.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist | Bandcamp
Websites: thefountainhead.de | changelingofficial.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/changeling.official
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Alkaloid #Apr25 #Changeling #Cynic #DeProfundis #DevinTownsend #GermanMetal #IngurgitatingOblivion #Obscura #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SeasonOfMist #ShapeOfDreams #SymphonicDeathMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #Vipassi #Yes

Conan – Violence Dimension Review

By Alekhines Gun

Alongside money, sex, and the number 42, “To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentation of their women” remains the peak answer to the meaning of life. Such melodic woe, such malodorous despair is the anthem to many a succulent succumbing of the Other, the Lesser Than, and the Detested. Conan traffic in an unusually encouraging slab of doom; namely, rather than horror descending upon the listener, you are that horror, and woe betide all who come to oppose you and your curiously hawk-shaped weapons. Here to be the accompaniment to your next assault on all those whose name you scorn and singing the songs of your own personal terrorization of those beneath your notice, sixth LP Violence Dimension has arrived. Does it name a frame of mind? A place you exile your conquests? The wing of the dungeon the n00bs are kept in? Grab your noblest of steeds and polish your battle axe, we have a pillaging to get to.

While most subgenres survive based on the might of the RHIFF, doom survives as much on its tone as its composition. Violence Dimension offers that tone in spades, with a plod like the flinging of pure tar splatter into your eardrums and a woofer rattle thicker than a wooly mammoths mating thrusts. From the kickoff rumblings of “Frozen Edges of the Wound” to the opening quake of terror lifting the curtain on “Foeman’s Flesh”, Conan offer up a sound which sidesteps fuzzed out stoner tropes into something much more akin to banging impossibly large rocks together. The grindy, sub-one-minute “Warpsword” blasts with a sandpaper buzz to reduce your saber teeth to stumps in seconds. The vocals of Jon Davis echo across the neighboring mountain, bringing tidings of destruction meshed with rarely seen motivational lyrical refrains (“Total Bicep”) while riding grooves stacked atop grooves across the whole package.

Subjugating the Tyrannosaurus tone is one spear-chucking assault after another. “Desolation Hexx” comes out swinging an Ankylosaurus tail straight for the feeble brain cavity, only to keep wailing on you with extreme prejudice as drummer Johnny King switches his flows to take the repetition from merely brutal to prehistoric savagery. “Total Hex” rides riffs with balls bigger than Messa’s Belfry and closes out on a better Electric Wizard riff-and-fuzz-solo than that outfit has penned in several albums. Even the mostly instrumental title track manages to channel the sinister atmospheres of modern Bongripper into Conan’s own sense of identity and flow, with bass solos, ever-shifting drum fills, and one relentless chug after another violating the listener.

So with so much weighty blood and Brontosaurus poo being flung about, what’s the catch? Violence Dimension suffers excessively from “The Windhand paradox”. Every single song here features top-shelf, grade A, Triceratops steak medium rare riffage ready to create new caves to dwell in with their own might; these riffs are promptly run right past the stone age and well into the modern age, into regrettable monotony. Other than the possible exception of the title track (which itself starts to run out of steam the last couple of minutes), many of the songs don’t deserve the length they’re given. The shorter songs are absolute volcano cratering ragers, and every long song has many a melody of menace to welcome your enemies’ wives into your harem. But those moments don’t deserve to be repeated as often as they do, and what would make for a delightful 4 minute song gets pushed into a nine-to-ten-minute song with gleeful abandon. Closer “Ocean of Boiling Skin” is the worst offender, ending on a glorious clubbing of a groove and then ooga-booga’ing for a solid five extra minutes, until all the initial impact is long forgotten.

This is maddening because when Violence Dimension is on, it is on. Make no mistake, this is still a quality album and doom aficionados will find much to love here, but I’m rooting for more. Conan write unique, relatively uplifting, energetic doom, and I want more of it. I also want them to write riffs worthy of the song lengths they dole out, or commit to an album of shorter songs just to see what happens. For the moment, make sure your axes are sharpened and find your favorite loincloth, for Violence Dimension is here to ensure you have a fitting soundtrack to send your enemies to the great beyond in style.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 303 kbps mp3
Label: Heavy Psych Sounds Records
Websites: Album Bandcamp | Official Facebook Page
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #Bongripper #Conan #DoomMetal #ElectricWizard #HeavyPsychSoundsRecords #Messa #Review #Reviews #UKMetal #violenceDimension #Windhand

Conan – Violence Dimension Review

By Alekhines Gun

Alongside money, sex, and the number 42, “To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentation of their women” remains the peak answer to the meaning of life. Such melodic woe, such malodorous despair is the anthem to many a succulent succumbing of the Other, the Lesser Than, and the Detested. Conan traffic in an unusually encouraging slab of doom; namely, rather than horror descending upon the listener, you are that horror, and woe betide all who come to oppose you and your curiously hawk-shaped weapons. Here to be the accompaniment to your next assault on all those whose name you scorn and singing the songs of your own personal terrorization of those beneath your notice, sixth LP Violence Dimension has arrived. Does it name a frame of mind? A place you exile your conquests? The wing of the dungeon the n00bs are kept in? Grab your noblest of steeds and polish your battle axe, we have a pillaging to get to.

While most subgenres survive based on the might of the RHIFF, doom survives as much on its tone as its composition. Violence Dimension offers that tone in spades, with a plod like the flinging of pure tar splatter into your eardrums and a woofer rattle thicker than a wooly mammoths mating thrusts. From the kickoff rumblings of “Frozen Edges of the Wound” to the opening quake of terror lifting the curtain on “Foeman’s Flesh”, Conan offer up a sound which sidesteps fuzzed out stoner tropes into something much more akin to banging impossibly large rocks together. The grindy, sub-one-minute “Warpsword” blasts with a sandpaper buzz to reduce your saber teeth to stumps in seconds. The vocals of Jon Davis echo across the neighboring mountain, bringing tidings of destruction meshed with rarely seen motivational lyrical refrains (“Total Bicep”) while riding grooves stacked atop grooves across the whole package.

Subjugating the Tyrannosaurus tone is one spear-chucking assault after another. “Desolation Hexx” comes out swinging an Ankylosaurus tail straight for the feeble brain cavity, only to keep wailing on you with extreme prejudice as drummer Johnny King switches his flows to take the repetition from merely brutal to prehistoric savagery. “Total Hex” rides riffs with balls bigger than Messa’s Belfry and closes out on a better Electric Wizard riff-and-fuzz-solo than that outfit has penned in several albums. Even the mostly instrumental title track manages to channel the sinister atmospheres of modern Bongripper into Conan’s own sense of identity and flow, with bass solos, ever-shifting drum fills, and one relentless chug after another violating the listener.

So with so much weighty blood and Brontosaurus poo being flung about, what’s the catch? Violence Dimension suffers excessively from “The Windhand paradox”. Every single song here features top-shelf, grade A, Triceratops steak medium rare riffage ready to create new caves to dwell in with their own might; these riffs are promptly run right past the stone age and well into the modern age, into regrettable monotony. Other than the possible exception of the title track (which itself starts to run out of steam the last couple of minutes), many of the songs don’t deserve the length they’re given. The shorter songs are absolute volcano cratering ragers, and every long song has many a melody of menace to welcome your enemies’ wives into your harem. But those moments don’t deserve to be repeated as often as they do, and what would make for a delightful 4 minute song gets pushed into a nine-to-ten-minute song with gleeful abandon. Closer “Ocean of Boiling Skin” is the worst offender, ending on a glorious clubbing of a groove and then ooga-booga’ing for a solid five extra minutes, until all the initial impact is long forgotten.

This is maddening because when Violence Dimension is on, it is on. Make no mistake, this is still a quality album and doom aficionados will find much to love here, but I’m rooting for more. Conan write unique, relatively uplifting, energetic doom, and I want more of it. I also want them to write riffs worthy of the song lengths they dole out, or commit to an album of shorter songs just to see what happens. For the moment, make sure your axes are sharpened and find your favorite loincloth, for Violence Dimension is here to ensure you have a fitting soundtrack to send your enemies to the great beyond in style.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 303 kbps mp3
Label: Heavy Psych Sounds Records
Websites: Album Bandcamp | Official Facebook Page
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #Bongripper #Conan #DoomMetal #ElectricWizard #HeavyPsychSoundsRecords #Messa #Review #Reviews #UKMetal #violenceDimension #Windhand

Conan – Violence Dimension Review

By Alekhines Gun

Alongside money, sex, and the number 42, “To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentation of their women” remains the peak answer to the meaning of life. Such melodic woe, such malodorous despair is the anthem to many a succulent succumbing of the Other, the Lesser Than, and the Detested. Conan traffic in an unusually encouraging slab of doom; namely, rather than horror descending upon the listener, you are that horror, and woe betide all who come to oppose you and your curiously hawk-shaped weapons. Here to be the accompaniment to your next assault on all those whose name you scorn and singing the songs of your own personal terrorization of those beneath your notice, sixth LP Violence Dimension has arrived. Does it name a frame of mind? A place you exile your conquests? The wing of the dungeon the n00bs are kept in? Grab your noblest of steeds and polish your battle axe, we have a pillaging to get to.

While most subgenres survive based on the might of the RHIFF, doom survives as much on its tone as its composition. Violence Dimension offers that tone in spades, with a plod like the flinging of pure tar splatter into your eardrums and a woofer rattle thicker than a wooly mammoths mating thrusts. From the kickoff rumblings of “Frozen Edges of the Wound” to the opening quake of terror lifting the curtain on “Foeman’s Flesh”, Conan offer up a sound which sidesteps fuzzed out stoner tropes into something much more akin to banging impossibly large rocks together. The grindy, sub-one-minute “Warpsword” blasts with a sandpaper buzz to reduce your saber teeth to stumps in seconds. The vocals of Jon Davis echo across the neighboring mountain, bringing tidings of destruction meshed with rarely seen motivational lyrical refrains (“Total Bicep”) while riding grooves stacked atop grooves across the whole package.

Subjugating the Tyrannosaurus tone is one spear-chucking assault after another. “Desolation Hexx” comes out swinging an Ankylosaurus tail straight for the feeble brain cavity, only to keep wailing on you with extreme prejudice as drummer Johnny King switches his flows to take the repetition from merely brutal to prehistoric savagery. “Total Hex” rides riffs with balls bigger than Messa’s Belfry and closes out on a better Electric Wizard riff-and-fuzz-solo than that outfit has penned in several albums. Even the mostly instrumental title track manages to channel the sinister atmospheres of modern Bongripper into Conan’s own sense of identity and flow, with bass solos, ever-shifting drum fills, and one relentless chug after another violating the listener.

So with so much weighty blood and Brontosaurus poo being flung about, what’s the catch? Violence Dimension suffers excessively from “The Windhand paradox”. Every single song here features top-shelf, grade A, Triceratops steak medium rare riffage ready to create new caves to dwell in with their own might; these riffs are promptly run right past the stone age and well into the modern age, into regrettable monotony. Other than the possible exception of the title track (which itself starts to run out of steam the last couple of minutes), many of the songs don’t deserve the length they’re given. The shorter songs are absolute volcano cratering ragers, and every long song has many a melody of menace to welcome your enemies’ wives into your harem. But those moments don’t deserve to be repeated as often as they do, and what would make for a delightful 4 minute song gets pushed into a nine-to-ten-minute song with gleeful abandon. Closer “Ocean of Boiling Skin” is the worst offender, ending on a glorious clubbing of a groove and then ooga-booga’ing for a solid five extra minutes, until all the initial impact is long forgotten.

This is maddening because when Violence Dimension is on, it is on. Make no mistake, this is still a quality album and doom aficionados will find much to love here, but I’m rooting for more. Conan write unique, relatively uplifting, energetic doom, and I want more of it. I also want them to write riffs worthy of the song lengths they dole out, or commit to an album of shorter songs just to see what happens. For the moment, make sure your axes are sharpened and find your favorite loincloth, for Violence Dimension is here to ensure you have a fitting soundtrack to send your enemies to the great beyond in style.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 303 kbps mp3
Label: Heavy Psych Sounds Records
Websites: Album Bandcamp | Official Facebook Page
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #Bongripper #Conan #DoomMetal #ElectricWizard #HeavyPsychSoundsRecords #Messa #Review #Reviews #UKMetal #violenceDimension #Windhand

Conan – Violence Dimension Review

By Alekhines Gun

Alongside money, sex, and the number 42, “To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentation of their women” remains the peak answer to the meaning of life. Such melodic woe, such malodorous despair is the anthem to many a succulent succumbing of the Other, the Lesser Than, and the Detested. Conan traffic in an unusually encouraging slab of doom; namely, rather than horror descending upon the listener, you are that horror, and woe betide all who come to oppose you and your curiously hawk-shaped weapons. Here to be the accompaniment to your next assault on all those whose name you scorn and singing the songs of your own personal terrorization of those beneath your notice, sixth LP Violence Dimension has arrived. Does it name a frame of mind? A place you exile your conquests? The wing of the dungeon the n00bs are kept in? Grab your noblest of steeds and polish your battle axe, we have a pillaging to get to.

While most subgenres survive based on the might of the RHIFF, doom survives as much on its tone as its composition. Violence Dimension offers that tone in spades, with a plod like the flinging of pure tar splatter into your eardrums and a woofer rattle thicker than a wooly mammoths mating thrusts. From the kickoff rumblings of “Frozen Edges of the Wound” to the opening quake of terror lifting the curtain on “Foeman’s Flesh”, Conan offer up a sound which sidesteps fuzzed out stoner tropes into something much more akin to banging impossibly large rocks together. The grindy, sub-one-minute “Warpsword” blasts with a sandpaper buzz to reduce your saber teeth to stumps in seconds. The vocals of Jon Davis echo across the neighboring mountain, bringing tidings of destruction meshed with rarely seen motivational lyrical refrains (“Total Bicep”) while riding grooves stacked atop grooves across the whole package.

Subjugating the Tyrannosaurus tone is one spear-chucking assault after another. “Desolation Hexx” comes out swinging an Ankylosaurus tail straight for the feeble brain cavity, only to keep wailing on you with extreme prejudice as drummer Johnny King switches his flows to take the repetition from merely brutal to prehistoric savagery. “Total Hex” rides riffs with balls bigger than Messa’s Belfry and closes out on a better Electric Wizard riff-and-fuzz-solo than that outfit has penned in several albums. Even the mostly instrumental title track manages to channel the sinister atmospheres of modern Bongripper into Conan’s own sense of identity and flow, with bass solos, ever-shifting drum fills, and one relentless chug after another violating the listener.

So with so much weighty blood and Brontosaurus poo being flung about, what’s the catch? Violence Dimension suffers excessively from “The Windhand paradox”. Every single song here features top-shelf, grade A, Triceratops steak medium rare riffage ready to create new caves to dwell in with their own might; these riffs are promptly run right past the stone age and well into the modern age, into regrettable monotony. Other than the possible exception of the title track (which itself starts to run out of steam the last couple of minutes), many of the songs don’t deserve the length they’re given. The shorter songs are absolute volcano cratering ragers, and every long song has many a melody of menace to welcome your enemies’ wives into your harem. But those moments don’t deserve to be repeated as often as they do, and what would make for a delightful 4 minute song gets pushed into a nine-to-ten-minute song with gleeful abandon. Closer “Ocean of Boiling Skin” is the worst offender, ending on a glorious clubbing of a groove and then ooga-booga’ing for a solid five extra minutes, until all the initial impact is long forgotten.

This is maddening because when Violence Dimension is on, it is on. Make no mistake, this is still a quality album and doom aficionados will find much to love here, but I’m rooting for more. Conan write unique, relatively uplifting, energetic doom, and I want more of it. I also want them to write riffs worthy of the song lengths they dole out, or commit to an album of shorter songs just to see what happens. For the moment, make sure your axes are sharpened and find your favorite loincloth, for Violence Dimension is here to ensure you have a fitting soundtrack to send your enemies to the great beyond in style.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 303 kbps mp3
Label: Heavy Psych Sounds Records
Websites: Album Bandcamp | Official Facebook Page
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #Bongripper #Conan #DoomMetal #ElectricWizard #HeavyPsychSoundsRecords #Messa #Review #Reviews #UKMetal #violenceDimension #Windhand

Wisdom & Fools – Prophecy Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

Liminal Dread Productions has been on a roll with releases in the past year. Some really took it home (Vanessa Funke), while others (Weep) didn’t quite hit the mark. Now, they are back with the debut record from LA’s newest thrash band, Wisdom & Fools. As far as I can gather, this two-person outfit was a collaboration between vocalist/guitarist Philip Vargas and bassist John Ramirez, who fronts the one-person progressive death outfit Parasite. The only thing missing is a drummer. So, they bought a computer and did some shit. Prophecy is a brief record that tries to push the boundaries of thrash, technical thrash, and death. The result is a riff machine with harmonizing guitar leads and vocals in the vein of Pantera and Throwdown. It’s an odd combination of elements that could be an absolute hit or a thrash fire behind Albertson’s. Either way, its thirty-six-minute construction should at least get you through your morning coffee shits.

My favorite part about the band’s inception was their first release, a 2020 collab with Parasite called St. Angry (A Loving Tribute to Metallica’s St. Anger). Yep, you read that correctly. These four cover songs include “Dirty Window” and “Sweet Amber,” which absolutely no one asked for, especially considering that I prefer the unfiltered vocals of Papa Het to those of Vargas. After a couple of singles and an EP, Prophecy finally arrives as the band’s official debut LP. With eight original tracks that don’t include St. Anger covers, Wisdom & Fools set out with their programmed drums to leave a mark on the Bay Area thrash scene. But will that mark be a notch on the Big 4 bludgeoning club or that skid mark I had to wash out of my speedo?

The first thing you notice from the opening number, “Escaping Eden,” is its guitar chops and the bass that pops and rumbles like old-school Sadus. But after charging along with one of the better thrash licks on the album, the vocals kinda diminish the mood. The song becomes garbled with all the riff and mood changes, even if the death textures and stomping riff on the back end are nice touches. One of the best tracks on the album is “The Devil in a House of God.” The screaming vocals and heavy riffs deliver the goods, alternating between thrash mixtures and interesting, swirling guitar leads. The song also includes melodic elements, ’80s metal flourishes, and a headbangable interlude that—for some demented reason of my own—resembles the entrance song to WWE’s Hardy Boyz.

After the album comes out attacking, the back half introduces more melodic elements in back-to-back pieces, “Thorns” and “Perpetualis.” While “Thorns” is riddled with some interesting, old-school soloing and harmonizing guitar action, the song’s foundation is completely forgettable. And, once again, the vocals don’t help to bring this track up to the melodeath caliber it should be. Sadly, “Perpetualis” is an identical song to its predecessor. Repeating the verse, pre-chorus, and chorus sections for most of the track, the only interesting part is the harmonizing leads toward the end. Thankfully, the closer brings some semblance of justice to the previous tracks. “Husk” is a marching thrasher that dabbles in death-thrash territories before unveiling its own melodic tendencies. But the lush textures of the song’s outro are not enough to save the lackluster songwriting of the two previous tracks.

Prophecy is an enigma. While the performances are undoubtedly great—especially those harmonizing leads and the gigantic bass presence—the songwriting is lacking. Balancing between being a standard thrash band and a technical one, Prophecy achieves too much and too little at the same time. There are a lot of riffs on this platter, but they tend to blend rather than add memorable weight to the overall song. As stated before, the vocals also do little to contribute, and I find myself ignoring them to focus on the guitar and bass. All that to say, there is definitely something here that, with some restraint, could be great. Of all the songs, “The Devil in a House of God” seems to know what it wants to do, but most of the album becomes predictable, as if the riffs are used to promote the impressive leads and soloing sections. I’m not quite ready to write this band off, but this ain’t the album I wanted.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Websites: wisdomfools.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/wisdomandfools
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#20 #2025 #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #LiminialDreadProductions #Metallica #Pantera #Parasite #Prophecy #Review #Reviews #Sadus #ThrashMetal #Throwdown #VanessaFunke #Weep #WisdomFools