#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

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

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

Kardashev – Alunea Review

By Carcharodon

Kardashev’s return has been the most eagerly anticipated in a year, and so far, it has been full of returning favorites. Since I discovered their stunning 2020 EP, The Baring of Shadows, they’ve been a firm favorite. Their progressive, blackened “deathgaze” was both haunting and beautiful in its ferociously emotive stylings. Although 2022’s Liminal Rite suffered a bit from its production, that didn’t stop me awarding it a 4.5 and placing it at #5 on my end-of-year List, both decisions that I stand by. Upping their progressive tendencies and leaning into longer form storytelling, I hoped the Arizonan quartet would carve their own little niche just a little deeper on fourth full-length, Alunea. Three years in the making, and picking up a tale they began on 2017’s The Almanac, can Kardashev possibly match what they achieved on Liminal Rite?

As Alunea opens on “A Precipice. A Door,” it’s immediately and unmistakably Kardashev. From the swelling wash of synths, through which Mark Garrett’s crystalline cleans and Nico Mirolla’s precise guitar lines slowly surface, to the propulsive, deftly progressive drum work by Sean Lang, I felt like I was on familiar ground. However, as Alunea progresses, it’s clear that the band’s journey is taking them in a subtly new direction. Dubbed as ‘deathgaze’ from an early stage in their career, much of the ‘gaze’ is now gone, with the band focusing on progressive, and even technical, death metal, recalling the likes of Fallujah and Aronious (parts of “Reunion” and “Truth to Form”). Garrett, whom I’ve lauded as one of metal’s most versatile vocalists, rampages through the album’s heavier passages, rasping, snarling, and growling like a man possessed. However, this juts up against fragile, stripped-back melodic passages, which see his soaring cleans, replete with powerful sustains set to rising guitar melodies and Alex Rieth’s liquid bass groove.

At an hour long, Liminal Rite risked faltering under its own weight. The fact that Kardashev reined in this tendency, keeping Alunea to a tight 43 minutes, despite the band’s deeper forays into progressive metal, does them credit. However, the compositions here don’t hold a candle to Liminal Rite or The Baring of Shadows. Meandering, often lacking an obviously discernible structure, Kardashev packed so many ideas in that it’s actually disorienting as tracks lurch unpredictably between frantic techy heaviness, extended melodic passages, or both. At its best, Alunea pulls this off. Lead single “Reunion,” probably closest in tone to earlier Kardashev, is great, while “Seed of the Night” and “We Could Fold the Stars” both showcase what I think Kardashev aimed for throughout: vicious heaviness, borrowing from both post-black and tech death, to create something harsh and crushing, but also complex. This is then played off against soft, but deceptively involved, melodic passages. While there are flashes of brilliance elsewhere (the back end of “Speak Silence,” which sees guest vocals from Genital Shame’s Erin Dawson being one), much of it falls short.

Too often, Alunea feels like Kardashev exploring partly formed ideas, leaping between them, without taking the time to either fully flesh out what they’ve written or consider logical sequencing. The skill of the musicians involved prevents the record from descending into the chaos it could have been in less capable hands, with transitions smooth, and the musicianship still top tier. But, whether it’s the confused “Truth to Form” or “Edge of Forever,” which simply runs out of energy and ideas around the halfway mark, Alunea lacks both bite and incisiveness. Garrett, so often the band’s MVP, is also clearly trying to further expand his already huge versatility. While his death growls and snarling, blackened rasp remain on point, and his cleans are as gorgeous as ever, he often leans into a heavily distorted bark, which sounds slightly forced and lacking in power. Kardashev did at least learn from the production errors made on Liminal Rite, with Alunea’s soundstage more expansive and the guitars just about in the right place in the mix, likely the work of new engineer Zack Ohren (taking over from Mirolla).

Penning this review of Kardashev’s latest outing has given me even less pleasure than Alunea itself. I was so disappointed by the first few spins that I had to leave it completely alone for a week before returning fresh. Rose-tinted spectacles duly crushed underfoot, I started to see some of Alunea’s qualities (“Reunion,” Seed of the Night” and “We Could Fold that Stars”) but its key shortcoming came into focus also: it lacks structures, which guide the listener through the journey Kardashev want to take you on. They did this very effectively on Liminal Rite, but, in cutting length, they also lost clarity in the songwriting. Alunea has many strong building blocks, but they have been stacked at overly jaunty angles.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: kardashev.bandcamp.com | kardashevband.com | facebook.com/Kardashevband
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Alunea #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #Aronious #Deathcore #Deathgaze #Fallujah #GenitalShame #Kardashev #MelodicMetal #MetalBladeRecords #PostMetal #ProgressiveDeath #Review #Reviews

Flummox – Southern Progress Review

By Kenstrosity

Originally slated to be my main Thing You Might Have Missed feature, Tennessee avant-garde metal quintet Flummox’s fifth LP Southern Progress caught me completely off guard. Attracted to the prompt “their most obnoxious album yet,” I wasn’t sure what to expect from my first exposure to Flummox’s work. I figured it might be weird, but it’s also distinctive, fun, and infectious. Fearlessly creative, deeply detailed, lyrically cutting, and stupidly intelligent, Southern Progress rapidly became my favorite record released so far this year. It doesn’t seem likely now that anything out of the metalverse this year will surpass it.

Southern Progress embodies a rhizomic system of inspirations and influences that, when harnessed by Flummox’s wacky brains, emerges from the soil as something wholly unique in style, sound, and intent. My best attempt to contextualize this material would involve names from the progsphere like Fair to Midland, Native Construct, Pink Floyd, early Queen, and Mike Patton; purveyors of the extreme such as Strapping Young Lad and Slugdge; avant-garde touchstones like Mr. Bungle, Igorrr, and Diablo Swing Orchestra; genre-jumpers such as King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard; and even cinematic composers like Danny Elfman and Hans Zimmer.1 Ultimately, though, there is no comfortable comparison. Flummox are a singular entity of weird, wild, theatrical metal capable of nailing every bizarre idea they throw at me, such that in less than a week, I had a majority portion of Southern Progress’ 57-minute runtime pinned to my psyche. All the while, its candid exposition of the queer and genderfluid experience in the Bible Belt (“Southern Progress”) struck a chord so rarely plucked by music on this sphere, and its inspired exploration of the neurodivergent experience as one of its parallel plot lines (“Executive Dysfunction”) gave me an easy avenue to resonate even more deeply with its voice.

The tricky reality of Southern Progress is that 750 words is woefully insufficient to encompass all that Flummox achieves, but its primary triumph is in universal songwriting excellence. Music like this marks a once-in-a-blue-moon occasion—and an ambitious undertaking—but Flummox makes it look effortless as they balance the beauty of melodious, theatrical compositions with the livid, frothing rabidity of searing, off-kilter riffs, thunderous rhythms, and revolutionary attitude (“Southern Progress,” “Femto’s Theme,” “Long Pork,” “Executive Dysfunction”). While these elements are familiar to anyone with experience in the metalverse, their twisted forms instead leave a vivid impression of something altogether more eccentric and uncanny (“Southern Progress,” “Nesting Doll,” “Locust Eater,” “Coyote Gospel”). Well-defined structures and concrete themes play their part in making sure these warped representations stick. Presenting every unhinged idea, cynical line, and explosive outburst inside a digestible package makes Southern Progress somehow even stranger and more enthralling for its deceiving accessibility (“What We’re In For…,” “Always Something Going Down,” “Siren Shock,” “Flumlindalë”).

In spite of its unquestionable adoption of metallic methods, Southern Progress is an intensely theatrical affair unfit for the genrephobic, but is nonetheless something everyone should experience at least once. Challenging in a different way than Imperial Triumphant or other known creators of what certain pundits call “not music,” Flummox is similarly fearless in their exploration of style and technique, and equally meticulous in application and execution. To that end, Southern Progress’ music is mutated and maniacal, but grounded through several root elements: emotional depth, societal awareness, thoughtful critiques, and artistic integrity. More than just a vehicle for that cogent societal commentary, the potent passion that each member of Flummox hemorrhaged into Southern Progress is unmatched by all except the unfuckwithable technical quality of their writing and performances. The fact that this intangible factor boasts such strong presence inside of, and coalesces so harmoniously with, the tangible product proves that Flummox’s dedication, attention to detail, and intentional artistry contributes meaningful substance and significance not just to Southern Progress on its own, but also to the greater body of metal as we know it today.

It is for this reason that Flummox’s Southern Progress isn’t just an excellent album, but also an important one. Aside from its high artistic merit, Southern Progress is a timely and fierce challenge against the dehumanization of queer, gender-nonconforming, and even neurodivergent communities across the American South—and, by extension, the country—especially by organized religious (read: Christian) entities. But it’s also a celebration, a triumphant expression of pride and love and resilience that only comes from openly and unashamedly discovering, struggling with, and ultimately embodying all that you are in spirit, body, and mind. Everyone deserves to know this feeling without fear of stigmatization, fetishization, violence, or isolation. Southern Progress is an unorthodox and fun, but wildly effective, advocate for that cause.

Rating: Excellent!2
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Needlejuice Records
Websites: flummoxed.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/flummoxband
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

Show 2 footnotes

1. Specifically, Zimmer’s work for Rango’s OST. ↩
2. You should expect to see me within a year or so, Contrite and ashamed that I didn’t award this the coveted Iconic score! ↩

#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #AvantGarde #BlackMetal #DannyElfman #DeathMetal #DiabloSwingOrchestra #ExperimentalMetal #FairToMidland #Flummox #FolkMetal #Gospel #HansZimmer #Igorrr #ImperialTriumphant #KingGizzardAndTheLizardWizard #MelodicMetal #MikePatton #MrBungle #NativeConstruct #NeedlejuiceRecords #PinkFloyd #ProgressiveMetal #Queen #Review #Reviews #Slugdge #SouthernProgress #StrappingYoungLad

Flummox – Southern Progress Review

By Kenstrosity

Originally slated to be my main Thing You Might Have Missed feature, Tennessee avant-garde metal quintet Flummox’s fifth LP Southern Progress caught me completely off guard. Attracted to the prompt “their most obnoxious album yet,” I wasn’t sure what to expect from my first exposure to Flummox’s work. I figured it might be weird, but it’s also distinctive, fun, and infectious. Fearlessly creative, deeply detailed, lyrically cutting, and stupidly intelligent, Southern Progress rapidly became my favorite record released so far this year. It doesn’t seem likely now that anything out of the metalverse this year will surpass it.

Southern Progress embodies a rhizomic system of inspirations and influences that, when harnessed by Flummox’s wacky brains, emerges from the soil as something wholly unique in style, sound, and intent. My best attempt to contextualize this material would involve names from the progsphere like Fair to Midland, Native Construct, Pink Floyd, early Queen, and Mike Patton; purveyors of the extreme such as Strapping Young Lad and Slugdge; avant-garde touchstones like Mr. Bungle, Igorrr, and Diablo Swing Orchestra; genre-jumpers such as King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard; and even cinematic composers like Danny Elfman and Hans Zimmer.1 Ultimately, though, there is no comfortable comparison. Flummox are a singular entity of weird, wild, theatrical metal capable of nailing every bizarre idea they throw at me, such that in less than a week, I had a majority portion of Southern Progress’ 57-minute runtime pinned to my psyche. All the while, its candid exposition of the queer and genderfluid experience in the Bible Belt (“Southern Progress”) struck a chord so rarely plucked by music on this sphere, and its inspired exploration of the neurodivergent experience as one of its parallel plot lines (“Executive Dysfunction”) gave me an easy avenue to resonate even more deeply with its voice.

The tricky reality of Southern Progress is that 750 words is woefully insufficient to encompass all that Flummox achieves, but its primary triumph is in universal songwriting excellence. Music like this marks a once-in-a-blue-moon occasion—and an ambitious undertaking—but Flummox makes it look effortless as they balance the beauty of melodious, theatrical compositions with the livid, frothing rabidity of searing, off-kilter riffs, thunderous rhythms, and revolutionary attitude (“Southern Progress,” “Femto’s Theme,” “Long Pork,” “Executive Dysfunction”). While these elements are familiar to anyone with experience in the metalverse, their twisted forms instead leave a vivid impression of something altogether more eccentric and uncanny (“Southern Progress,” “Nesting Doll,” “Locust Eater,” “Coyote Gospel”). Well-defined structures and concrete themes play their part in making sure these warped representations stick. Presenting every unhinged idea, cynical line, and explosive outburst inside a digestible package makes Southern Progress somehow even stranger and more enthralling for its deceiving accessibility (“What We’re In For…,” “Always Something Going Down,” “Siren Shock,” “Flumlindalë”).

In spite of its unquestionable adoption of metallic methods, Southern Progress is an intensely theatrical affair unfit for the genrephobic, but is nonetheless something everyone should experience at least once. Challenging in a different way than Imperial Triumphant or other known creators of what certain pundits call “not music,” Flummox is similarly fearless in their exploration of style and technique, and equally meticulous in application and execution. To that end, Southern Progress’ music is mutated and maniacal, but grounded through several root elements: emotional depth, societal awareness, thoughtful critiques, and artistic integrity. More than just a vehicle for that cogent societal commentary, the potent passion that each member of Flummox hemorrhaged into Southern Progress is unmatched by all except the unfuckwithable technical quality of their writing and performances. The fact that this intangible factor boasts such strong presence inside of, and coalesces so harmoniously with, the tangible product proves that Flummox’s dedication, attention to detail, and intentional artistry contributes meaningful substance and significance not just to Southern Progress on its own, but also to the greater body of metal as we know it today.

It is for this reason that Flummox’s Southern Progress isn’t just an excellent album, but also an important one. Aside from its high artistic merit, Southern Progress is a timely and fierce challenge against the dehumanization of queer, gender-nonconforming, and even neurodivergent communities across the American South—and, by extension, the country—especially by organized religious (read: Christian) entities. But it’s also a celebration, a triumphant expression of pride and love and resilience that only comes from openly and unashamedly discovering, struggling with, and ultimately embodying all that you are in spirit, body, and mind. Everyone deserves to know this feeling without fear of stigmatization, fetishization, violence, or isolation. Southern Progress is an unorthodox and fun, but wildly effective, advocate for that cause.

Rating: Excellent!2
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Needlejuice Records
Websites: flummoxed.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/flummoxband
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #AvantGarde #BlackMetal #DannyElfman #DeathMetal #DiabloSwingOrchestra #ExperimentalMetal #FairToMidland #Flummox #FolkMetal #Gospel #HansZimmer #Igorrr #ImperialTriumphant #KingGizzardAndTheLizardWizard #MelodicMetal #MikePatton #MrBungle #NativeConstruct #NeedlejuiceRecords #PinkFloyd #ProgressiveMetal #Queen #Review #Reviews #Slugdge #SouthernProgress #StrappingYoungLad

Behölder – In the Temple of the Tyrant Review

By Steel Druhm

When members of various obscure power and prog metal bands like Shadowdance and Chaos Frame managed to recruit Judicator’s John Yelland for an epic doom project heavily inspired by Dungeons & Dragons, Steel was unable to resist hearing the results. So he took a flyer on Behölder and their In the Temple of the Tyrant debut and hoped for good doom things. Would it be utter cheese and need a high-level necromancer to save it? Would it be a rousing, sword-swinging platter or Iron Age heroics? As it turns out, In the Temple of the Tyrant is more like Crypt Sermon mixed with a modest dose of Hammerfall-esque power and seasoned with the muscular machismo of Eternal Champion. Does the sound of that meaty broth get your sword rising? Me too. Let’s fight!

The best way to open an epic doom album is with some hefty epic doom, and Behölder does just that with “A Pale Blood Sky.” It’s very Crypt Sermon / Candlemassive, with big, crunchy doom riffs and slick melodic trills. Yellen’s powerful and enthusiastic delivery rounds out the doom enchilada excellently, taking us on a trip through dark crypts and creepy vistas. It’s the kind of doom I eat up like candied bacon, and I love this tune muchly. It’s powerful, but oh so accessible and entertaining, and shows that these cats know their chosen genre very well. “Eyes of the Deep” is another killer, with a strong Eternal Champion vibe. Tomi Joutsen of Amorphis shows up on the back end to drop immense death roars that take the song to the next level and everything is slick and compelling as fook. “For Those Who Fell” is like the glorious Hammerfall power ballads of old (their first 2 albums) and it sucks you in and keeps you hanging on. “Draconian (Slave or Master)” is a ridiculously hooky cut elevated to glorious heights by Yellan’s epical vocals. You will not forget the chorus, and it will haunt you onto death. This one has Song o’ the Year written all over it, folks.

While the highs on the album are very high, there are a few tracks that can’t scale the same summit. “Dungeon Master” is just okay and overly tongue-in-cheek as it takes the perspective of those master nerd game planners a bit too seriously. It doesn’t vibe well with the huge epic doom flavor of the surrounding tracks and takes you out of that headspace. Closer “I Magus” is also a bit underbaked. It’s plenty riffy with a Sanctuary / Nevermore vibe, but it never gets rolling into high gear. Likewise, “Summoned & Bound” trods on the path to greatness laid out by classic Candlemass, but it never completes the journey, becoming somewhat unsatisfying by the end. No song is completely unworthy, however, and as a cohesive album, this thing is a whole lotta fun from start to finish.

John Yellan is the star of the show here, with his vocals elevating the material several notches. On the best stuff, he takes it to the house, bringing poise and grace to the doom show. He manages to keep his performance restrained and doesn’t overdo things, nor does he rely on high-pitched wailing to emphasize the dramatic bits. He gives the songs just the right amount of power and poise and does a great job throughout. Founder and band mastermind Carlos Alvarez, along with Matt Hodson of Chaos Frame, bring a healthy selection of large doom leads and stirring solos, while dabbling in plenty of traditional and power metal spaces along the way. I like their work best when they stay in the Candlemass / Crypt Sermon vein, but I can’t argue one bit with departures like “Draconian (Slave or Master).”

Behölder have chops across the board, and when their writing comes together, you get great tunes full of nods to genre masters. If the writing was a touch more consistent, this would be my first 4.0 of 2025, but In the Temple of the Tyrant falls a bit short of those lofty heights. Yet there are several songs that could end up as my Song o’ the Year, and that’s saying something about the strength of this googly-eyed floating beast. Roll the dice, hear this, find the moments that thrill your inner warrior. Swords up for Behölder!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Black Lion
Websites: beholderblacklion.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/beholderdoom
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #Behölder #BlackLionRecords #Candlemass #CryptSermon #EpicDoomMetal #EternalChampion #Hammerfall #HeavyMetal #InTheTempleOfTheTyrant #Judicator #Review #Reviews #Sorcerer

Coffin Feeder – Big Trouble Review

By El Cuervo

Sometimes you can judge a book by its cover. The intellectual property rights-busting album artwork of Big Trouble by Coffin Feeder pays tribute to the silliest action movies of the 80s and 90s, just like the music within. This album represents the band’s full-length debut after a pair of EPs that tickled our very own Kenstrosity. Though the core members may be Belgian, the bands through which these guys ordinarily peddle their wares (Aborted, Leng Tch’e) are fused with a steaming smorgasbord of high-profile guest spots (Benighted, Cattle Decapitation, Archspire). The result is an energetic fusion of various cores, from death to grind to hard (also the order of events at Dr. A.N. Grier’s place on a Friday night). How are these sub-genres fused?

Distilling Big Trouble down into its key elements is relatively easy, even if those key elements themselves don’t offer easy listening. It combines the monumental heft of deathcore with the sneering attitude of hardcore and the speedy intensity of grindcore. “Porkchop Express” is prototypical of the album, as it blends a stomping lead that reeks of slam with a faster, tremolo-picked verse, while the vocals unpredictably flip between pig squeals, hardcore shouts, and deathly growls. These songs are extremely extreme, favoring an obnoxiously loud master, boisterous riffs, and relentless energy. It’s a lot, but also – at least on first listen – a lot of fun. It’s difficult to dislike something so active and aggressive, and it’s all too brief to become bored. The cacophony is more of an experience than mere music.

I also admire how Coffin Feeder lean into their own silliness; they represent the diametric opposition to bands that take themselves too seriously. It’s difficult to dispute the “What is best in life?” speech from Conan the Barbarian when layered over beefcake deathcore (“The Destroyer”). But I would also argue that Big Trouble favors style over substance. The sense of humor pastes over an album that’s solid in execution of the fundamentals, but not much better. It feels like the band has used up all their ideas by the back half of the record. The songs become predictable, shuffling between mid-paced/deathlier passages, faster/grindier passages, and slower/breakdown passages. Likewise, most of the riffs sound basically the same. Though the leads are typically entertaining, not many of the tracks really stand out because they follow similar sounds throughout.

Like all good -core music, the breakdowns are often the highlights. When those blast beats are broken down with a slower but groovier lead, heads will bang. In fact, breakdowns are such an easy win in -core music that they feel like a song-writing crutch. Big Trouble accordingly struggles more where there are longer gaps between those fist-pumping moments. “Plain Zero” is a straighter death metal track with a hefty punch, but the relative absence of breakdowns means my attention is less focused. Paradoxically, there are other tracks with poorly deployed breakdowns that disrupt their flow. “Love at First Death” features a pause that becomes a beefy breakdown, but it’s too sudden and changes the tone of the song. Despite solid leads and entertaining grooves, some tracks aren’t particularly cohesive. The music is so frenetic that it can feel disjointed; it’s an amalgamation of ideas but not written into tidy, individual songs.

Coffin Feeder boast some qualities that will undoubtedly appeal to those with a brutal, slamming proclivity. The songs flex with muscular riffs and mighty breakdowns, and the motley vocals go some way to offering a little variety. But Big Trouble (in Little Belgium) ultimately fails to distinguish its individual songs due to repetitive songwriting. Its sheer power can’t overcome a lack of creative spark or ingenuity required to elevate music beyond the average. I feel like there’s more to come from these Belgians.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Listenable Records
Websites: coffinfeederband.com | coffinfeeder.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/coffinfeeder
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Aborted #Apr25 #Archspire #BelgianMetal #Benighted #BigTrouble #CattleDecapitation #CoffinFeeder #DeathMetal #Deathcore #Grindcore #Hardcore #LengTchE #Review #Reviews

The Infernal Deceit – The True Harmful Black Review

By Alekhines Gun

In a year that already looks to be filled with heady pomp and artistry, there’s something to be appreciated about some straightforwardness in back-to-basics. You don’t always need the ultra highbrow and thought-provoking violence – sometimes you just want to throw on an album and veg out. Such wants prompted my newest scourings of the promo pit for something more immediate, something to get fists pumping and bootie shaking with blackened frowns to be had by all. Answering this call is German duo The Infernal Deceit, a self-described black/death hybrid outfit who are dropping their sophomore effort The True Harmful Black this month. Sporting some admittedly cool artwork and an uncommonly legible logo, I dove in to see what harms await in the promised black.

When The Infernal Deceit put their best foot forward, what results is a fun, riff-centric album with bounce and groove to be found in fair measure. The True Harmful Black slings some congenial black metal of the punky, catchy stylings ala Spectral Wound or Hulder with production pulled straight from the book of modern death metal. This gives moments like the “everybody clap your hands” buildup of “The Great Seducer, The Greatest Deceiver (Dethroned)” and the sprawling melodies of “The Primordial Maze and The Crawling Chaos” some real bop-to-the-nose force without losing the requisite trebly underpinnings. Songs wrapped around neck bobbing hooks demand attention and imply greatness ahead, with no genuine surprises to be found, instead opting for a handful of rote but well-implemented ingredients.

Instead of targeting for all rage all day, The True Harmful Black opts for a melancholy approach as much as a riff-centric one. Vocalist “R” has a suitably gruff bark, straddling the overlap between a blackened shriek and a deathly growl without neatly falling into either category. His somewhat monotone delivery helps the musical presentation, as he sounds at home whether the music blasts or crawls. Multi-instrumentalist “C” offers up a platter of songs which alternate between the expected bpm pushing swipes at Necrophobic melodies while frequently bringing the tempo to a much more somber, mood-drenched drawl. This saves the album from becoming too homogenous despite a bit of an overly familiar palate of riffs and lead stylings. Clean acoustics also litter the album, both as extra instrumentation as well as interlude and closer, offering up a nice flow and easy listening.

The Infernal Deceit peddle an enjoyable sound, but the album doesn’t seek to be much more than that. The constant changing of tempo eventually works against the band, particularly in the back half of the album. The True Harmful Black is at its strongest when bringing the pain (“In the Wilderness of Pernicious Black”), but its quest for atmospheric theatrics robs the riffs of much of their staying power. The clean acoustics are pretty when implemented as instrumental flourishes, but focusing on them robs the album of momentum. Combining that with the aforementioned frequent brake pumping leads to an album that doesn’t flow as much as it stutters. This is a bit disappointing because individual moments hint at some truly good stuff waiting to be unearthed; solos in particular rip and shred with delightful melodic prowess. An album with a filthier mix, more consistent strength in riffs, or some more extremity in the disparaging tempos would create a Deceit that could be Infernal indeed.

The True Harmful Black is a pleasant album, just not a remarkable one. There’s nothing wrong with that; not every album needs to be an earth-heaving, forest-felling, giant slaying leviathan of artistic intent. The Infernal Deceit are a competent pair who can craft solid moments and good melodies, but are still on the prowl for that x factor which will launch them further to stand shoulder to shoulder with their peers. I believe they have better in them, and will certainly check out what their next offering holds for us. For the moment, while certainly not challenging for any end-of-year placements, listeners on the quest for a quick black metal fix could do far worse, and might find some select moments of real harm waiting for them in the depicted black maze above.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Websites: Official Bandcamp | Official Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #GermanMetal #Hulder #Necrophobic #PersonalRecords #Review #Reviews #SpectralWound #TheInfernalDeceit #TheTrueHarmfulBlack

The Infernal Deceit – The True Harmful Black Review

By Alekhines Gun

In a year that already looks to be filled with heady pomp and artistry, there’s something to be appreciated about some straightforwardness in back-to-basics. You don’t always need the ultra highbrow and thought-provoking violence – sometimes you just want to throw on an album and veg out. Such wants prompted my newest scourings of the promo pit for something more immediate, something to get fists pumping and bootie shaking with blackened frowns to be had by all. Answering this call is German duo The Infernal Deceit, a self-described black/death hybrid outfit who are dropping their sophomore effort The True Harmful Black this month. Sporting some admittedly cool artwork and an uncommonly legible logo, I dove in to see what harms await in the promised black.

When The Infernal Deceit put their best foot forward, what results is a fun, riff-centric album with bounce and groove to be found in fair measure. The True Harmful Black slings some congenial black metal of the punky, catchy stylings ala Spectral Wound or Hulder with production pulled straight from the book of modern death metal. This gives moments like the “everybody clap your hands” buildup of “The Great Seducer, The Greatest Deceiver (Dethroned)” and the sprawling melodies of “The Primordial Maze and The Crawling Chaos” some real bop-to-the-nose force without losing the requisite trebly underpinnings. Songs wrapped around neck bobbing hooks demand attention and imply greatness ahead, with no genuine surprises to be found, instead opting for a handful of rote but well-implemented ingredients.

Instead of targeting for all rage all day, The True Harmful Black opts for a melancholy approach as much as a riff-centric one. Vocalist “R” has a suitably gruff bark, straddling the overlap between a blackened shriek and a deathly growl without neatly falling into either category. His somewhat monotone delivery helps the musical presentation, as he sounds at home whether the music blasts or crawls. Multi-instrumentalist “C” offers up a platter of songs which alternate between the expected bpm pushing swipes at Necrophobic melodies while frequently bringing the tempo to a much more somber, mood-drenched drawl. This saves the album from becoming too homogenous despite a bit of an overly familiar palate of riffs and lead stylings. Clean acoustics also litter the album, both as extra instrumentation as well as interlude and closer, offering up a nice flow and easy listening.

The Infernal Deceit peddle an enjoyable sound, but the album doesn’t seek to be much more than that. The constant changing of tempo eventually works against the band, particularly in the back half of the album. The True Harmful Black is at its strongest when bringing the pain (“In the Wilderness of Pernicious Black”), but its quest for atmospheric theatrics robs the riffs of much of their staying power. The clean acoustics are pretty when implemented as instrumental flourishes, but focusing on them robs the album of momentum. Combining that with the aforementioned frequent brake pumping leads to an album that doesn’t flow as much as it stutters. This is a bit disappointing because individual moments hint at some truly good stuff waiting to be unearthed; solos in particular rip and shred with delightful melodic prowess. An album with a filthier mix, more consistent strength in riffs, or some more extremity in the disparaging tempos would create a Deceit that could be Infernal indeed.

The True Harmful Black is a pleasant album, just not a remarkable one. There’s nothing wrong with that; not every album needs to be an earth-heaving, forest-felling, giant slaying leviathan of artistic intent. The Infernal Deceit are a competent pair who can craft solid moments and good melodies, but are still on the prowl for that x factor which will launch them further to stand shoulder to shoulder with their peers. I believe they have better in them, and will certainly check out what their next offering holds for us. For the moment, while certainly not challenging for any end-of-year placements, listeners on the quest for a quick black metal fix could do far worse, and might find some select moments of real harm waiting for them in the depicted black maze above.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Websites: Official Bandcamp | Official Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #GermanMetal #Hulder #Necrophobic #PersonalRecords #Review #Reviews #SpectralWound #TheInfernalDeceit #TheTrueHarmfulBlack

The Infernal Deceit – The True Harmful Black Review

By Alekhines Gun

In a year that already looks to be filled with heady pomp and artistry, there’s something to be appreciated about some straightforwardness in back-to-basics. You don’t always need the ultra highbrow and thought-provoking violence – sometimes you just want to throw on an album and veg out. Such wants prompted my newest scourings of the promo pit for something more immediate, something to get fists pumping and bootie shaking with blackened frowns to be had by all. Answering this call is German duo The Infernal Deceit, a self-described black/death hybrid outfit who are dropping their sophomore effort The True Harmful Black this month. Sporting some admittedly cool artwork and an uncommonly legible logo, I dove in to see what harms await in the promised black.

When The Infernal Deceit put their best foot forward, what results is a fun, riff-centric album with bounce and groove to be found in fair measure. The True Harmful Black slings some congenial black metal of the punky, catchy stylings ala Spectral Wound or Hulder with production pulled straight from the book of modern death metal. This gives moments like the “everybody clap your hands” buildup of “The Great Seducer, The Greatest Deceiver (Dethroned)” and the sprawling melodies of “The Primordial Maze and The Crawling Chaos” some real bop-to-the-nose force without losing the requisite trebly underpinnings. Songs wrapped around neck bobbing hooks demand attention and imply greatness ahead, with no genuine surprises to be found, instead opting for a handful of rote but well-implemented ingredients.

Instead of targeting for all rage all day, The True Harmful Black opts for a melancholy approach as much as a riff-centric one. Vocalist “R” has a suitably gruff bark, straddling the overlap between a blackened shriek and a deathly growl without neatly falling into either category. His somewhat monotone delivery helps the musical presentation, as he sounds at home whether the music blasts or crawls. Multi-instrumentalist “C” offers up a platter of songs which alternate between the expected bpm pushing swipes at Necrophobic melodies while frequently bringing the tempo to a much more somber, mood-drenched drawl. This saves the album from becoming too homogenous despite a bit of an overly familiar palate of riffs and lead stylings. Clean acoustics also litter the album, both as extra instrumentation as well as interlude and closer, offering up a nice flow and easy listening.

The Infernal Deceit peddle an enjoyable sound, but the album doesn’t seek to be much more than that. The constant changing of tempo eventually works against the band, particularly in the back half of the album. The True Harmful Black is at its strongest when bringing the pain (“In the Wilderness of Pernicious Black”), but its quest for atmospheric theatrics robs the riffs of much of their staying power. The clean acoustics are pretty when implemented as instrumental flourishes, but focusing on them robs the album of momentum. Combining that with the aforementioned frequent brake pumping leads to an album that doesn’t flow as much as it stutters. This is a bit disappointing because individual moments hint at some truly good stuff waiting to be unearthed; solos in particular rip and shred with delightful melodic prowess. An album with a filthier mix, more consistent strength in riffs, or some more extremity in the disparaging tempos would create a Deceit that could be Infernal indeed.

The True Harmful Black is a pleasant album, just not a remarkable one. There’s nothing wrong with that; not every album needs to be an earth-heaving, forest-felling, giant slaying leviathan of artistic intent. The Infernal Deceit are a competent pair who can craft solid moments and good melodies, but are still on the prowl for that x factor which will launch them further to stand shoulder to shoulder with their peers. I believe they have better in them, and will certainly check out what their next offering holds for us. For the moment, while certainly not challenging for any end-of-year placements, listeners on the quest for a quick black metal fix could do far worse, and might find some select moments of real harm waiting for them in the depicted black maze above.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Websites: Official Bandcamp | Official Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #GermanMetal #Hulder #Necrophobic #PersonalRecords #Review #Reviews #SpectralWound #TheInfernalDeceit #TheTrueHarmfulBlack

The Infernal Deceit – The True Harmful Black Review

By Alekhines Gun

In a year that already looks to be filled with heady pomp and artistry, there’s something to be appreciated about some straightforwardness in back-to-basics. You don’t always need the ultra highbrow and thought-provoking violence – sometimes you just want to throw on an album and veg out. Such wants prompted my newest scourings of the promo pit for something more immediate, something to get fists pumping and bootie shaking with blackened frowns to be had by all. Answering this call is German duo The Infernal Deceit, a self-described black/death hybrid outfit who are dropping their sophomore effort The True Harmful Black this month. Sporting some admittedly cool artwork and an uncommonly legible logo, I dove in to see what harms await in the promised black.

When The Infernal Deceit put their best foot forward, what results is a fun, riff-centric album with bounce and groove to be found in fair measure. The True Harmful Black slings some congenial black metal of the punky, catchy stylings ala Spectral Wound or Hulder with production pulled straight from the book of modern death metal. This gives moments like the “everybody clap your hands” buildup of “The Great Seducer, The Greatest Deceiver (Dethroned)” and the sprawling melodies of “The Primordial Maze and The Crawling Chaos” some real bop-to-the-nose force without losing the requisite trebly underpinnings. Songs wrapped around neck bobbing hooks demand attention and imply greatness ahead, with no genuine surprises to be found, instead opting for a handful of rote but well-implemented ingredients.

Instead of targeting for all rage all day, The True Harmful Black opts for a melancholy approach as much as a riff-centric one. Vocalist “R” has a suitably gruff bark, straddling the overlap between a blackened shriek and a deathly growl without neatly falling into either category. His somewhat monotone delivery helps the musical presentation, as he sounds at home whether the music blasts or crawls. Multi-instrumentalist “C” offers up a platter of songs which alternate between the expected bpm pushing swipes at Necrophobic melodies while frequently bringing the tempo to a much more somber, mood-drenched drawl. This saves the album from becoming too homogenous despite a bit of an overly familiar palate of riffs and lead stylings. Clean acoustics also litter the album, both as extra instrumentation as well as interlude and closer, offering up a nice flow and easy listening.

The Infernal Deceit peddle an enjoyable sound, but the album doesn’t seek to be much more than that. The constant changing of tempo eventually works against the band, particularly in the back half of the album. The True Harmful Black is at its strongest when bringing the pain (“In the Wilderness of Pernicious Black”), but its quest for atmospheric theatrics robs the riffs of much of their staying power. The clean acoustics are pretty when implemented as instrumental flourishes, but focusing on them robs the album of momentum. Combining that with the aforementioned frequent brake pumping leads to an album that doesn’t flow as much as it stutters. This is a bit disappointing because individual moments hint at some truly good stuff waiting to be unearthed; solos in particular rip and shred with delightful melodic prowess. An album with a filthier mix, more consistent strength in riffs, or some more extremity in the disparaging tempos would create a Deceit that could be Infernal indeed.

The True Harmful Black is a pleasant album, just not a remarkable one. There’s nothing wrong with that; not every album needs to be an earth-heaving, forest-felling, giant slaying leviathan of artistic intent. The Infernal Deceit are a competent pair who can craft solid moments and good melodies, but are still on the prowl for that x factor which will launch them further to stand shoulder to shoulder with their peers. I believe they have better in them, and will certainly check out what their next offering holds for us. For the moment, while certainly not challenging for any end-of-year placements, listeners on the quest for a quick black metal fix could do far worse, and might find some select moments of real harm waiting for them in the depicted black maze above.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Websites: Official Bandcamp | Official Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #GermanMetal #Hulder #Necrophobic #PersonalRecords #Review #Reviews #SpectralWound #TheInfernalDeceit #TheTrueHarmfulBlack

Dormant Ordeal – Tooth and Nail Review

By Tyme

Though often yoked to the tech death scene, I’ve never found Dormant Ordeal particularly technical. Or at least not in the way bands like Defeated Sanity, Archspire, or Gorod are considered technical. Why is this important? Because on Tooth and Nail, their fourth outing and first for new label Willowtip, we see Dormant Ordeal step further away from any vestiges of technicality. Factor in too that, since the release of We Had It Coming, Dormant Ordeal continues to shrink—the most recent departure being that of drummer and founding member Radek Kowal—and you have an ordeal ripe for drama. Dormant Ordeal has, however, always managed high levels of quality output. AMG’s own Dr. Wvrm praised 2016’s WHIT with a TYMHM treatment and crowned 2021’s The Grand Scheme of Things with a 4.0 of thorns. Still, I wondered how Kowal’s absence would affect the Dormant Ordeal sound and whether Tooth and Nail would have the amount of fight I’d hoped for.

A showcase for every weapon at Dormant Ordeal‘s disposal, Tooth and Nail writhes with ruthless savagery, staying true to the classic Polish death metal sound. And while the likes of Decapitated, Ulcerate, and Gaerea still hold some comparative weight, Dormant Ordeal has done more than enough to step from the shadows of comparison into the light of its own sound. Like a grizzled wizard atop rocky crags, Maciej Nieścioruk casts rifferous spells filled with whirling tremolos, walls of layered dissonance, grinding chugs, and cascading shimmers of post-metal strums as well as bass lines brimming with gravitas. Chason Westmoreland (Cambion, ex-Equipoise, ex-Hate Eternal) fills in behind the kit and turns in a monstrous performance. His snare blasts, machine-like double kicks, and miles of tom fills lend warmth and deep richness to the vibrant drum sound, departing from Dormant Ordeal‘s former snare-heavy drone. Add in the fact that Maciej Proficz sounds more beastly and vicious than I’ve ever heard him, and we realize this iteration of Dormant Ordeal walks a different path—a path of blackened death, sure, but also one of well-crafted atmospheres, post-metallic melodicism, and a low-end presence absent from previous efforts.

For every passage on Tooth and Nail that tips a hat toward Dormant Ordeal‘s past, there are as many that point to a brighter future. Longtime fans will feel wrapped in a warm, WHIC comforter when the stutter-stepping, skronky riffs of “Dust Crown” take off or the theatrically dramatic “Orphans” flies by in blurs of blistering blasts and speed-hungry riffs. These moments juxtaposed against the brilliance of the plodding, weighty drama of “Solvent,” an atmospheric long-player full of melancholic guitar lines and shimmering tremolos or the very excellent “Against the Dying of the Light,” a nod to Dylan Thomas that is one of the most vicious songs on the album, Proficz’s roar of ‘Against the dying of the light. RAGE!” gives me goosebumps every time. Every song a marvel, Tooth and Nail finds Dormant Ordeal plumbing new depths of excellence by tapping into a dormant, lush production that suits the material to a tee.

Aside from Westmoreland recording his drum parts, all aspects of the production on Tooth and Nail appear, at least on paper, the same as on TGSoT, even down to the DR score. Yet, this time, Pawel Grabowski exited the lab at JNS Studio with a mix that brought to life the dark textures of Nieścioruk’s bass lines (“Halo of Bones”) and the theatrical intricacies of his guitar work (“Everything That Isn’t Silence Is Trivial”) in a way no previous Dormant Ordeal album has managed. Every minute of Tooth and Nail‘s forty-seven-minute runtime is put to good use, leaving not even the traditional complaint of artistic bloat on the table. I suppose I would have liked to see a bit more instrumentality added to “Wije I Mary, Pt. 1” to better tie it to the beautifully executed work on the bookend “Wije I Mary, Pt. 2,” but even this minuscule nit barely registers.

From its cover to its content, Tooth and Nail represents the absolute best of what Dormant Ordeal can be. It isn’t easy to part ways with a band’s sole founding member. Many don’t survive. Perhaps the fight and struggle it took Nieścioruk and Proficz to overcome and usher Tooth and Nail into the light of day is reflected in the album’s title and theme, which is one of grit, determination, and doing the difficult thing, to fight tooth and nail if you will. I commend Dormant Ordeal for carrying on and in so doing releasing its best album yet.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 18th, 2025

#2025 #40 #Apr25 #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #Decapitated #DormantOrdeal #Gaerea #PolishMetal #Review #Reviews #ToothAndNail #Ulcerate #WillowtipRecords

Lik – Necro Review

By El Cuervo

Lik have become a low-key favorite among the old school death metal nerds of Angry Metal Guy. Mass Funeral Evocation is one of stronger debuts from the last decade, while Carnage doubled down on its strengths. While I personally found Misanthrophic Breed less compelling, it had fans among other writers. And besides two albums of great (and one album of average) death metal, Lik have also gifted me one of the coolest experiences of my life: the immortal Mikael Stanne fist-bumping me as I donned one of their shirts at 70000 Tons of Metal. It was therefore with high expectations that I embarked on this review.

At its core, Necro remains an old school death metal album. The spectres of Entombed and Dismember loom heavily over Lik; such is the lot of all Swedish metalheads indulging in a spot of the necrophiliac arts. But recent years have also found the troupe eagerly devouring the corpse of In Flames, if buried in their 90s heyday. “War Praise” opens with a machine-gunning lead you might expect from an early 90s death metal record, but this swiftly gives way to a shredding lick that caps the song’s introduction and acts as an instrumental quasi-chorus. The shredding guitar tone skips over the harshness of At the Gates and bee-lines straight for the relative clarity of their more melodic comparators. It’s just a brief taster of a melodic sound that will recur later on the album. Make no mistake; this is still death metal of the blood-spattered variety. But the melodic punch belies a group casting their deathly gaze away from their Stockholm roots towards Gothenburg on the other side of the country.

As if to assuage any trepidation of existing fans concerned about “melody” or “hooks” (forgetting, of course, that Lik have always favored hooks, even if heavy ones), the vast majority of the ten tracks here prioritize the fusion of bludgeoning rhythms and scything melodies that is unique to Swedish death metal. Though Necro may have a melodic knack, the savage bite of its guitars always comes first. “Worms Inside” features a particularly fast and brutal opening, leading with a riff that bulges like a vein on the verge of explosion. And “Shred into Pieces” almost has the speed and relentlessness of grindcore. The energetic vocalist barks through ridiculous lyrics that are as violent as they are depraved, while the drums sound more powerful than ever as they’re presented more prominently in the mix than previously. Lik manifest a never-ending pursuit of exciting, energetic music, and their morgue-defiling enthusiasm is infectious.

Besides the judicious injection of melody through cleaner guitar tones and/or harmonizing guitars, Necro further demonstrates a song-writing hand that’s beginning to develop from pure, old school death metal. “Morgue Rat” opens with a purring bass and techy leads, but later orients around the rhythmic, expressive vocals, its lyrics dripping with blood and semen. While they begin in guttural territory, the back half progresses to a blacker, witchy shriek. Likewise, an unexpected mid-song interlude lends an air of intrigue and re-energizes the song for its finale. “In Ruins” is the most expansive track here; it deliberately shuffles a slower, doomy introduction, frenzied solos, pulsating rhythms, and harmonized shouts into a song that feels more than the sum of these parts. This and “Rotten Inferno” feel more thoughtful and varied as they frequently switch gears and escape the trappings of a verse/chorus structure.

Necro is a fundamentally sound album. It does what all good old school death metal albums do by focusing on razor-sharp leads, lo-fi production,n and energetic song-writing. It’s impossible to be a fan of death metal and not enjoy Lik. So why no better than a 3.5? I still feel that the sharpest edges in the Lik discography are in the past; Necro just isn’t as joyous or memorable as Mass Funeral Evocation or Carnage. Although it strives to expand the core sounds it uses, it isn’t so good as to escape the trappings of a sound that’s already been heard many times over. I didn’t necessarily expect more, but I had hoped the newfound development might push the band a little further.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps MP3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: likofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/lik
Releases Worldwide: April 18th, 2025

#2025 #35 #Apr25 #AtTheGates #DeathMetal #Dismember #Entombed #InFlames #LIK #Necro #Review #Reviews #SwedishMetal

Enevelde – Pandemonium Review

By Dear Hollow

There’s something to be said for simplicity in black metal. You don’t need an onslaught of atmospherics and technical skill to make it work – and in most cases, it’s discouraged. Sometimes you just need an effective chord progression, the right distortion, basically any vocal style that you can put through a reverb filter, and drums that hold a beat. Norway’s Enevelde knows this. Honing a distinctly cavernous approach to the Nidrosian black metal scene, the one-man act may not blow you away with its riffage, ferocity, or darkness, but third full-length Pandemonium aims for its most cohesive and sinister album yet.1

Enevelde is a project of B. Kråbøl, best known as vocalist of Misotheist and constituent of the second-wave Addams Family band Kråbøl, and at one time serving as drummer of the melodeath act Hypermass. While his projects are largely known for their intensity, Misotheist bringing the terror back to black metal and Kråbøl enacting traditional second-wave frigidity, Enevelde has always dealt in a more subtle and more evocative breed. Drums verge on DSBM in their restraint, rarely exploding into blastbeats, and guitars rely on droning tremolo picking rather than the sharp and vicious tinnitus with which we are accustomed. Vocals are guttural roars rather than sinister shrieks, lending a cavernous quality that adds depth and weight across the board. Following up 2020’s densely atmospheric self-titled debut and 2023’s more cruel and intense En Gildere Død, Pandemonium’s aim is subtlety, a creeping quality that suggests chaos rather than weaponizing it.

Subtlety is the emphasis for Enevelde, crafting subtly atmospheric tracks that rely on chord progressions, . Reminiscent of acts like Harakiri for the Sky or Gaerea, Kråbøl paints an unmistakably evocative picture with diminished chord progressions enriched by reverb-y roars and subtle synth flourishes (“Nigromantia,” “Helvete Reiser Seg”), haunted leads guiding grave, intensely dark, and nearly doomy weight (title track, “Eksilfyrste”), and fury and reaching the surface with tasteful blastbeats and dense bass (“Offer,” “Rasende Flammer”). The guitar tone throughout blends second-wave’s more barbed maceration (the raw misdirect opener “Gapende Grav) and a more modern doomish density (“Rasende Flammer”). Utilizing a style that kicks the gut-punch intensity down a few notches in favor of that creeping feeling, it’s a dreary piece of work in the most pleasant way.

While the best of black metal’s upper echelon features a smart blend of highlights and mood, Enevelde is very comfortable in its emphasis of the latter. Granted, you won’t come upon a black metal band that dwells in more cavernous tones often, but that’s about all that Enevelde does. It’s spooky blackened music with a somewhat unique vocal attack,2 a style that will please fans of the style, but there’s little else to be found aboard Pandemonium. Its slower dirge-like pacing is more akin to DSBM in the emotional gravitas attached to each plod, but if you’re not in the mood to be taken into the place that Kråbøl’s riffs and roars create, there’s nothing hooking you either. While effective, Enevelde is remarkably straightforward and one-note, its layers and richness devoted to the feeling in every movement. In short, there are no hooks aboard Pandemonium – just mood and reverie.

Enevelde has a good thing going, but its audience remains starkly limited. It will not change your mind on black metal, but its humble and straightforward execution, an atmosphere without the need for over-the-top theatrics, is a strong asset. It rarely rises above haunting and creepy, but it recognizes that it doesn’t need to. Pandemonium is far less an all-out chaos attack, and more demons are looming in the wings, utilizing punishment and insanity only when necessary. Enevelde offers a neat little black metal album – nothing more, nothing less.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Terratur Possessions
Website: 2 kvlt 4 u
Releases Worldwide: April 9th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackMetal #Enevelde #Firtan #Gaerea #HarakiriForTheSky #Hypermass #Kråbøl #Misotheist #NorwegianMetal #pandemonium #Review #Reviews #TerraturPossessions

Cruce Signatus – II Review

By Eldritch Elitist

One of the scant morsels of criticism I offered to Pillaging Villagers’ self-titled 2022 opus was not explicitly aimed at the record itself, but rather at my perceived longevity of the project. David Frazer’s first solo outing, while a blast to spin to this day, feels like something best suited as a one-off excursion. For this reason, I approached his follow-up project, the instrumental metal/synthwave/electronic mashup that is Cruce Signatus, with a grain of skepticism. From day one, Frazer planned Cruce Signatus as a four-act experience, and for as much as I enjoyed its first volume, it again engendered a nagging sense of doubt as to its shelf life. By its end, the self-titled debut painstakingly explores seemingly every corner of its hyper-specific vision of cinematic metallo-electro-neo-baroque-wave. For this project to truly grow, Frazer would need to up the stakes through an expanded scope, elevated drama, and a broadened emotional palette. Less than a year on from its predecessor, II has done precisely that.

My chief criticisms of Cruce Signatus were levied at its lack of variety in both tone and tempo, and II goes so hard in addressing the former that it somehow absolves itself of the latter. II does feature a handful of tempo shake-ups in its back third, but the record so often drastically departs from its predecessor’s uniformly villainous tone as to not really need them. Opener “Conversio Militiae – Viam Justorum” debuts in expected fashion, all dramatic chords and ascending arpeggios invoking a classical idea of Hell, before gracefully pivoting into a movement that I can only describe as “1990’s JRPG End Credits Theme”-core. Swaths of II feel overtly uplifting, and even when it doesn’t, tracks like “Milites Christi II – Gesta Francorum” are so whimsical and dynamic as to substantially differentiate this record from Cruce Signatus’ first act. Simultaneously, II feels so loyal to Cruce Signatus’ established identity that no one could mistake it for a project under any other name. As an expansion of that identity, II is revelatory.

II is full of unexpected victories for a project with an already impressive foundation, with one of the most surprising being just how well it succeeds as a standalone experience. Cruce Signatus’ first act split the difference between soundtrack and traditional album in its construction, and while II retains the soundtrack vibes, its individual tracks feel more self-contained. Each has a distinct identity, resulting in a tonal trajectory that gives the record a pronounced overarching structure akin to a classic “hero’s journey” narrative. While the mid-album cuts (namely “Milites Christi” I & II) feel gritty and combative, the bookends exhibit neon-drenched euphoria, with the massive closing track “Poena” making for what feels like the most gratifying possible conclusion at the end of the journey, ominous stinger foreshadowing Act III notwithstanding.

Beyond Cruce Signatus’ structural and tonal innovations, II just straight up fucking jams. While bearing plenty of introspective moments, II represents an exponentially more energetic, almost power metal-fied take on this project’s sound over its predecessor, which is honestly difficult to wrap my head around considering that it’s also unquestionably the more varied of the two records. It helps, then, that II’s high-end feels notably less shrill than that of Cruce Signatus’ debut, though parts of “Pro Emendatione Malefactorum” occasionally grate through loftily ambitious reprisal. I do find that the overall mix feels less punchy and impactful this time around, but as the electronic soundscape remains lush and engaging, minor production gripes hardly detract from the experience.

II is such an impressive evolutionary leap for Cruce Signatus that even its micro adjustments impress. That each track now naturally blends into the next, eschewing the debut’s odd fades to total silence, is nearly as strong a signal of this project’s growth as its bold leaps into unprecedented emotional territory. Moreover, II fully assures me that this project has more than enough juice to play out its full, four-act structure. If Frazer’s ambitions are this high halfway through, I’m ecstatic to hear where this project goes by its end. Just don’t wait until then to jump in, because II stands shoulder to shoulder with the best records of the burgeoning synth metal scene on its own merits. Oh, and I’ll retract what I said three years ago: I’ll take another three Pillaging Villagers records, please.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self Release
Websites: crucesignatus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/crucesignatusband
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #CruceSignatus #II #InstrumentalMetal #PillagingVillagers #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #SynthMetal #Synthwave

Church of the Sea – Eva Review

By Tyme

I’ve often thought Adam’s rib-mate, Eve, got a bad rap. Led astray by the pesky serpent, Eve took that first bite of the fruit from the Forbidden Tree and shared it with her man. This act not only resulted in their expulsion from the Garden of Eden, but in Eve becoming traditionally branded as the original sinner, who eventually suffered the pains of childbirth as part of God’s consequence. Formed in 2017, and after releasing their debut album Odalisque in 2022, Greek doomgaze trio Church of the Sea has partnered with These Hands Melt to drop sophomore effort Eva, which aims to reimagine the story of Eve, celebrating her defiance and casting her in a different light. One not of sinner, but rebel, who willingly embraced what others consider ‘forbidden.’ I wondered what form Church of the Sea‘s doomgaze would manifest on Eva and whether it would have me reveling in Eve’s now reconstructed rebellion.

With zero expectations of what doomgaze should sound like, I was pleasantly surprised by the atmosphere Church of the Sea creates on Eva. Vangelis provides the doom, comprised chiefly of his sparse, spindly, and sometimes spooky guitar lines, while Alex rounds out the gaze of Eva’s instrumentation with subdued, synth-driven darkwave. Melodies undulate like roiling black seas under steel-grey skies, leaving me stranded on Darkher and REZN-filled waters, searching for salvation. Trent Reznor-inspired synth beats greet us on the first proper track, “The Siren’s Choice.” When the spider-like guitar notes and Irene’s sultry, velvety Shirly-Manson-meets-Sara-Bianchin vocals enter the fray, we get a glimpse of how powerful the doom of Church of the Sea‘s sound can be. This power is undeniable when fuzzy guitar chords coalesce with distorted synths to add heavyweight exclamation points throughout Eva‘s thirty-minute runtime, succeeding at creating a hypnotically hazy, drone-like, yet heavily doomy experience.

Each note on Eva means to satisfy the alpha waves of mind and body like a 432 Hz tone. From the Dead Can Dance meets Vermilia tribalism of “Eva,” with Irene’s native Greek vocals establishing a very folk-forward cadence, to the electronica dominant closer “How to Build a Universe, pt. II,” Eva is full of highlights. None more evident than the three-punch combo that starts with the very Darkher-inspired “Widow,” imbued with “Lowly Weep” vibes to the Bloody Hammers-like spookiness of “Garden of Eden,” where you can almost feel the snaky villain slithering toward our defiant and rebellious heroine. It’s not until the fateful lilts of “Churchyard” enter that the triptych at the apex of Church of the Sea‘s Eve story reveals itself, an ebb and flow, tension-packed track full of sanguine beats, ethereal vocals, and hard-hitting doom tones that find Eve defiantly accepting her role as the ‘mother of all living’ and embracing her newfound knowledge.

Church of the Sea creates music for certain moods, and Eva is no exception. More lulling than pulse-pounding, Eva’s hazy drone succeeds mostly by staying true to what it is and never attempting to stray from that mission. Songs plod, crawl, and cautiously sense their way through Church of the Sea‘s garden of Eva with arachnidic stealth. While stellar in its execution, this fact limits accessibility. This music will not energize you as much as it will have you delving into sub-plateaus of self-inquiry, lazing about in effortlessly created atmospheres. In an age where we admonish bloat and overly long opuses, my biggest quibble is that Eva is not long enough. Minus the two-minute intro, Eva clocks in at a scant twenty-eight minutes, and while I am quick to hit replay, I’m left wanting to hear more of what Church of the Sea has to offer.

April has been a month that could very well find me flung back into the n00b pit. I’ve stumbled on a string of releases I’ve really connected with. I chose Church of the Sea to diversify the kinds of albums I was grabbing, and much to my chagrin, I fell in love with it. Though short in stature and length, Eva is chock full of quality. Irene’s vocals mesmerize, and the guitar-synth combo is way heavier than it has any right to be. I know there will be albums in my future that I won’t connect with, and I anxiously await their arrival, but Church of the Sea‘s album Eva is not one of them. I recommend it fully, and I hope you check it out.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320kb/s mp3
Label: These Hands Melt
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#2025 #35 #Apr25 #ChurchOfTheSea #Darkher #DeadCanDance #DoomMetal #Doomgaze #Eva #GreekMetal #Review #REZN #Shoegaze #TheseHandsMelt #Vermilia

Church of the Sea – Eva Review

By Tyme

I’ve often thought Adam’s rib-mate, Eve, got a bad rap. Led astray by the pesky serpent, Eve took that first bite of the fruit from the Forbidden Tree and shared it with her man. This act not only resulted in their expulsion from the Garden of Eden, but in Eve becoming traditionally branded as the original sinner, who eventually suffered the pains of childbirth as part of God’s consequence. Formed in 2017, and after releasing their debut album Odalisque in 2022, Greek doomgaze trio Church of the Sea has partnered with These Hands Melt to drop sophomore effort Eva, which aims to reimagine the story of Eve, celebrating her defiance and casting her in a different light. One not of sinner, but rebel, who willingly embraced what others consider ‘forbidden.’ I wondered what form Church of the Sea‘s doomgaze would manifest on Eva and whether it would have me reveling in Eve’s now reconstructed rebellion.

With zero expectations of what doomgaze should sound like, I was pleasantly surprised by the atmosphere Church of the Sea creates on Eva. Vangelis provides the doom, comprised chiefly of his sparse, spindly, and sometimes spooky guitar lines, while Alex rounds out the gaze of Eva’s instrumentation with subdued, synth-driven darkwave. Melodies undulate like roiling black seas under steel-grey skies, leaving me stranded on Darkher and REZN-filled waters, searching for salvation. Trent Reznor-inspired synth beats greet us on the first proper track, “The Siren’s Choice.” When the spider-like guitar notes and Irene’s sultry, velvety Shirly-Manson-meets-Sara-Bianchin vocals enter the fray, we get a glimpse of how powerful the doom of Church of the Sea‘s sound can be. This power is undeniable when fuzzy guitar chords coalesce with distorted synths to add heavyweight exclamation points throughout Eva‘s thirty-minute runtime, succeeding at creating a hypnotically hazy, drone-like, yet heavily doomy experience.

Each note on Eva means to satisfy the alpha waves of mind and body like a 432 Hz tone. From the Dead Can Dance meets Vermilia tribalism of “Eva,” with Irene’s native Greek vocals establishing a very folk-forward cadence, to the electronica dominant closer “How to Build a Universe, pt. II,” Eva is full of highlights. None more evident than the three-punch combo that starts with the very Darkher-inspired “Widow,” imbued with “Lowly Weep” vibes to the Bloody Hammers-like spookiness of “Garden of Eden,” where you can almost feel the snaky villain slithering toward our defiant and rebellious heroine. It’s not until the fateful lilts of “Churchyard” enter that the triptych at the apex of Church of the Sea‘s Eve story reveals itself, an ebb and flow, tension-packed track full of sanguine beats, ethereal vocals, and hard-hitting doom tones that find Eve defiantly accepting her role as the ‘mother of all living’ and embracing her newfound knowledge.

Church of the Sea creates music for certain moods, and Eva is no exception. More lulling than pulse-pounding, Eva’s hazy drone succeeds mostly by staying true to what it is and never attempting to stray from that mission. Songs plod, crawl, and cautiously sense their way through Church of the Sea‘s garden of Eva with arachnidic stealth. While stellar in its execution, this fact limits accessibility. This music will not energize you as much as it will have you delving into sub-plateaus of self-inquiry, lazing about in effortlessly created atmospheres. In an age where we admonish bloat and overly long opuses, my biggest quibble is that Eva is not long enough. Minus the two-minute intro, Eva clocks in at a scant twenty-eight minutes, and while I am quick to hit replay, I’m left wanting to hear more of what Church of the Sea has to offer.

April has been a month that could very well find me flung back into the n00b pit. I’ve stumbled on a string of releases I’ve really connected with. I chose Church of the Sea to diversify the kinds of albums I was grabbing, and much to my chagrin, I fell in love with it. Though short in stature and length, Eva is chock full of quality. Irene’s vocals mesmerize, and the guitar-synth combo is way heavier than it has any right to be. I know there will be albums in my future that I won’t connect with, and I anxiously await their arrival, but Church of the Sea‘s album Eva is not one of them. I recommend it fully, and I hope you check it out.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320kb/s mp3
Label: These Hands Melt
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#2025 #35 #Apr25 #ChurchOfTheSea #Darkher #DeadCanDance #DoomMetal #Doomgaze #Eva #GreekMetal #Review #REZN #Shoegaze #TheseHandsMelt #Vermilia

Church of the Sea – Eva Review

By Tyme

I’ve often thought Adam’s rib-mate, Eve, got a bad rap. Led astray by the pesky serpent, Eve took that first bite of the fruit from the Forbidden Tree and shared it with her man. This act not only resulted in their expulsion from the Garden of Eden, but in Eve becoming traditionally branded as the original sinner, who eventually suffered the pains of childbirth as part of God’s consequence. Formed in 2017, and after releasing their debut album Odalisque in 2022, Greek doomgaze trio Church of the Sea has partnered with These Hands Melt to drop sophomore effort Eva, which aims to reimagine the story of Eve, celebrating her defiance and casting her in a different light. One not of sinner, but rebel, who willingly embraced what others consider ‘forbidden.’ I wondered what form Church of the Sea‘s doomgaze would manifest on Eva and whether it would have me reveling in Eve’s now reconstructed rebellion.

With zero expectations of what doomgaze should sound like, I was pleasantly surprised by the atmosphere Church of the Sea creates on Eva. Vangelis provides the doom, comprised chiefly of his sparse, spindly, and sometimes spooky guitar lines, while Alex rounds out the gaze of Eva’s instrumentation with subdued, synth-driven darkwave. Melodies undulate like roiling black seas under steel-grey skies, leaving me stranded on Darkher and REZN-filled waters, searching for salvation. Trent Reznor-inspired synth beats greet us on the first proper track, “The Siren’s Choice.” When the spider-like guitar notes and Irene’s sultry, velvety Shirly-Manson-meets-Sara-Bianchin vocals enter the fray, we get a glimpse of how powerful the doom of Church of the Sea‘s sound can be. This power is undeniable when fuzzy guitar chords coalesce with distorted synths to add heavyweight exclamation points throughout Eva‘s thirty-minute runtime, succeeding at creating a hypnotically hazy, drone-like, yet heavily doomy experience.

Each note on Eva means to satisfy the alpha waves of mind and body like a 432 Hz tone. From the Dead Can Dance meets Vermilia tribalism of “Eva,” with Irene’s native Greek vocals establishing a very folk-forward cadence, to the electronica dominant closer “How to Build a Universe, pt. II,” Eva is full of highlights. None more evident than the three-punch combo that starts with the very Darkher-inspired “Widow,” imbued with “Lowly Weep” vibes to the Bloody Hammers-like spookiness of “Garden of Eden,” where you can almost feel the snaky villain slithering toward our defiant and rebellious heroine. It’s not until the fateful lilts of “Churchyard” enter that the triptych at the apex of Church of the Sea‘s Eve story reveals itself, an ebb and flow, tension-packed track full of sanguine beats, ethereal vocals, and hard-hitting doom tones that find Eve defiantly accepting her role as the ‘mother of all living’ and embracing her newfound knowledge.

Church of the Sea creates music for certain moods, and Eva is no exception. More lulling than pulse-pounding, Eva’s hazy drone succeeds mostly by staying true to what it is and never attempting to stray from that mission. Songs plod, crawl, and cautiously sense their way through Church of the Sea‘s garden of Eva with arachnidic stealth. While stellar in its execution, this fact limits accessibility. This music will not energize you as much as it will have you delving into sub-plateaus of self-inquiry, lazing about in effortlessly created atmospheres. In an age where we admonish bloat and overly long opuses, my biggest quibble is that Eva is not long enough. Minus the two-minute intro, Eva clocks in at a scant twenty-eight minutes, and while I am quick to hit replay, I’m left wanting to hear more of what Church of the Sea has to offer.

April has been a month that could very well find me flung back into the n00b pit. I’ve stumbled on a string of releases I’ve really connected with. I chose Church of the Sea to diversify the kinds of albums I was grabbing, and much to my chagrin, I fell in love with it. Though short in stature and length, Eva is chock full of quality. Irene’s vocals mesmerize, and the guitar-synth combo is way heavier than it has any right to be. I know there will be albums in my future that I won’t connect with, and I anxiously await their arrival, but Church of the Sea‘s album Eva is not one of them. I recommend it fully, and I hope you check it out.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320kb/s mp3
Label: These Hands Melt
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#2025 #35 #Apr25 #ChurchOfTheSea #Darkher #DeadCanDance #DoomMetal #Doomgaze #Eva #GreekMetal #Review #REZN #Shoegaze #TheseHandsMelt #Vermilia

Church of the Sea – Eva Review

By Tyme

I’ve often thought Adam’s rib-mate, Eve, got a bad rap. Led astray by the pesky serpent, Eve took that first bite of the fruit from the Forbidden Tree and shared it with her man. This act not only resulted in their expulsion from the Garden of Eden, but in Eve becoming traditionally branded as the original sinner, who eventually suffered the pains of childbirth as part of God’s consequence. Formed in 2017, and after releasing their debut album Odalisque in 2022, Greek doomgaze trio Church of the Sea has partnered with These Hands Melt to drop sophomore effort Eva, which aims to reimagine the story of Eve, celebrating her defiance and casting her in a different light. One not of sinner, but rebel, who willingly embraced what others consider ‘forbidden.’ I wondered what form Church of the Sea‘s doomgaze would manifest on Eva and whether it would have me reveling in Eve’s now reconstructed rebellion.

With zero expectations of what doomgaze should sound like, I was pleasantly surprised by the atmosphere Church of the Sea creates on Eva. Vangelis provides the doom, comprised chiefly of his sparse, spindly, and sometimes spooky guitar lines, while Alex rounds out the gaze of Eva’s instrumentation with subdued, synth-driven darkwave. Melodies undulate like roiling black seas under steel-grey skies, leaving me stranded on Darkher and REZN-filled waters, searching for salvation. Trent Reznor-inspired synth beats greet us on the first proper track, “The Siren’s Choice.” When the spider-like guitar notes and Irene’s sultry, velvety Shirly-Manson-meets-Sara-Bianchin vocals enter the fray, we get a glimpse of how powerful the doom of Church of the Sea‘s sound can be. This power is undeniable when fuzzy guitar chords coalesce with distorted synths to add heavyweight exclamation points throughout Eva‘s thirty-minute runtime, succeeding at creating a hypnotically hazy, drone-like, yet heavily doomy experience.

Each note on Eva means to satisfy the alpha waves of mind and body like a 432 Hz tone. From the Dead Can Dance meets Vermilia tribalism of “Eva,” with Irene’s native Greek vocals establishing a very folk-forward cadence, to the electronica dominant closer “How to Build a Universe, pt. II,” Eva is full of highlights. None more evident than the three-punch combo that starts with the very Darkher-inspired “Widow,” imbued with “Lowly Weep” vibes to the Bloody Hammers-like spookiness of “Garden of Eden,” where you can almost feel the snaky villain slithering toward our defiant and rebellious heroine. It’s not until the fateful lilts of “Churchyard” enter that the triptych at the apex of Church of the Sea‘s Eve story reveals itself, an ebb and flow, tension-packed track full of sanguine beats, ethereal vocals, and hard-hitting doom tones that find Eve defiantly accepting her role as the ‘mother of all living’ and embracing her newfound knowledge.

Church of the Sea creates music for certain moods, and Eva is no exception. More lulling than pulse-pounding, Eva’s hazy drone succeeds mostly by staying true to what it is and never attempting to stray from that mission. Songs plod, crawl, and cautiously sense their way through Church of the Sea‘s garden of Eva with arachnidic stealth. While stellar in its execution, this fact limits accessibility. This music will not energize you as much as it will have you delving into sub-plateaus of self-inquiry, lazing about in effortlessly created atmospheres. In an age where we admonish bloat and overly long opuses, my biggest quibble is that Eva is not long enough. Minus the two-minute intro, Eva clocks in at a scant twenty-eight minutes, and while I am quick to hit replay, I’m left wanting to hear more of what Church of the Sea has to offer.

April has been a month that could very well find me flung back into the n00b pit. I’ve stumbled on a string of releases I’ve really connected with. I chose Church of the Sea to diversify the kinds of albums I was grabbing, and much to my chagrin, I fell in love with it. Though short in stature and length, Eva is chock full of quality. Irene’s vocals mesmerize, and the guitar-synth combo is way heavier than it has any right to be. I know there will be albums in my future that I won’t connect with, and I anxiously await their arrival, but Church of the Sea‘s album Eva is not one of them. I recommend it fully, and I hope you check it out.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320kb/s mp3
Label: These Hands Melt
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#2025 #35 #Apr25 #ChurchOfTheSea #Darkher #DeadCanDance #DoomMetal #Doomgaze #Eva #GreekMetal #Review #REZN #Shoegaze #TheseHandsMelt #Vermilia

Cabal – Everything Rots Review

By Dear Hollow

The struggle between viciousness and velocity is a storied one in the realm of deathcore, and Cabal is no exception in its battle between tone-abusing slogs and blazing blastbeats. Enacting a blackened deathcore attack that neglects orchestral atmospheres and paper-thin symphonics in favor of thick filth that covers every surface lead and fills every chugging crevice, it flaunts an arsenal of blackened chord progressions that lend a horror appropriate to its occult theme. The band has nevertheless toiled between the trenches of stagnation and devastation. Four albums in, expect filthy chugging aplenty, dark electronic flourishes abound, and a tasteful array of guest vocalists, all in service of a darker power. Business as usual.

In spite of its unmistakable filth that separates it from the likes of Lorna Shore, Worm Shepherd, or any of the other Deathcore Borgirs of the world, Denmark’s Cabal has a bit of a rollercoaster of a discography since 2018. Debut Mark of Rot was a simultaneously too-clean and too-dirty blend of down-tempo deathcore with blackened flourishes and a sterile djent guitar tone. 2020’s Drag Me Down amped the tempo with an unfuckwithable cutthroat quality that kept things fresh and brutal with spotlights of guests from Polaris, Møl, and Trivium. 2022’s Magno Interitus amped the tone with a lightless and mammoth foray into dark electronics that kept things interesting, although its more experimental pieces damaged its consistency. In this way, Everything Rots more seamlessly incorporates it into an over-the-top and absolutely relentless deathcore romp caked with Cabal’s suffocating trademark filth.

Like “Tongues” or “Demagogue” from Drag Me Down, Cabal manages to balance its absolutely crushing weight with a tasteful novelty in Everything Rots. While you’re guaranteed to be bludgeoned by breakdowns infused with the weight of Magno Interitus and pulverized by Andreas Bjulver’s husky roars, a heavier usage of blastbeats adds to the frenzy and the guest vocals add a dosage of well-placed freshness, not unlike Aborted’s latest. Injecting a hardcore call-out badassery (Viscera’s Jamie Graham in “No Peace;” Nasty’s Matthi Odysseus in “Unveiled”), rapid-fire groove (ten56.’s Aaron Matts in “Still Cursed”), and thick brutality (Aviana’s Joel Holmqvist in “Stuck;” Distant’s Alan Grnja in “Beneath Blackened Skies”). “Sort Sommer” (featuring hip-hop/punk duo Fabräk) has the same feel as “Blod af Mit” from Magno Interitus in its sudden embarrassment of nu-metal riches, but has been safely relegated to bonus track this time around. Cabal utilizes novelty as a reprieve to the relentless density that comprises its more straightforward pieces.

What’s consistently refreshing about Cabal is that their deathcore novelty is bolstered by a smart songwriting style that balances the meatheaded and the menacing. The best songs are those that are securely Cabal’s – in spite of the army of guests elsewhere – from the sweet placements of icy blackened chord progressions to mammoth breakdowns (“Everything Rots,” “Hell Hounds”). Compared to its predecessor, Everything Rots returns to what the band does best: being completely unhinged. It’s all about adrenaline-pumping intensity, pure gym-core, unshakeable groove populating its digestible tracks with a cold and intense melodic template (“Redemption Denied,” “End Times”). The electronic influence is far less jarring, adding a surreal pulse in addition to (instead of in replacement of) the deathcore intensity (“Forever Marked,” “Snake Tongues”).

Everything Rots will not sway your opinion on deathcore. It’s a meatheaded foray with enough chuggy breakdowns, brickwalled production, and vomitous vocals to kill an adult horse:1 A faster Black Tongue perhaps or a more blackened Humanity’s Last Breath. But armed with a blackened filth and a vocalist who could pass as his own arsenal of guest vocalists, Cabal’s got a trademark sound and a great interpretation of it. It’s a return to form for a band known for its balance, thanks to a cutthroat intensity that recalls the grandiosity of Drag Me Down. Dwelling in hell-scraping tone worship and tempo ignorance only when it benefits its occult aims, Everything Rots is a suffocating listen, smartly designed with necessary reprieves, with a must more tasteful electronic presence. It’s a brutal blackened deathcore album without all the symphonic bullshit. Deathcore fans rejoice!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: cabalcph.bandcamp.com | cabalcult.com | facebook.com/@cabalcph
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#2025 #35 #Aborted #Apr25 #Aviana #BlackTongue #BlackenedDeathcore #CABAL #DanishMetal #Deathcore #DimmuBorgir #Distant #Electronic #EverythingRots #Fabräk #Hardcore #HumanitySLastBreath #LornaShore #Møl #Nasty #NuclearBlastRecords #Polaris #Review #Reviews #ten56_ #Trivium #Viscera #WormShepherd

Messa – The Spin Review

By Carcharodon

We all slow down in our old age. Our own Steel Druhm is no exception. As he closes in on his third millennium, he finds himself overwhelmed more and more often.1 And so verily it came to pass that, to help out our tiring patriarch, Dolph and I agreed to double team his beloved Italian psych-doom weirdos, Messa.2 To be fair, this is no hardship. All three of Messa’s albums to date have been absolutely killer, from the drone-doom of debut Belfry (2016), through personal fav, the post-bluesy Feast for Water (2018) to progressive opus Close (2022). To say the band is enigmatic would be something of an understatement. The quartet, which has held together without any line-up changes for over a decade, seamlessly knit together a dizzying array of styles, modulating the focus on each release. Where will the dial land on fourth outing, The Spin?

If you’re looking to place The Spin in Messa’s discography, it’s probably closest in tone to Feast for Water. However, it’s a smoother experience. Rather like using a velvetiser to make your hot chocolate. It’s still hot chocolate. But it’s thicker, richer, and, well, velvet-ier. The Spin has been velvetised in two key ways. First, Sara’s smouldering, siren-like vocals have hit a whole new level, with the power on her sustains (“Fire on the Roof” and “Void Meridian,” in particular) imbuing The Spin with such a sense of power. Secondly, guitarist Alberto has leant harder into the progressive doom of Vanishing Kids, paired with the languid blues of his solo debut (Little Albert’s Swamp King), all buried in a guitar tone that Pink Floyd would be delighted by (“Reveal” and the gorgeous back end of “Immolation”). Where Feast had a slightly roughened, old-school Trouble or Pentagram edge to its haunting, crooning vibe, Messa are now operating in bigger, more expansive—and, frankly, more expensive-sounding—territories, recalling the likes of recent Green Lung (“At Races”) and Beth Hart (“Fire on the Roof” and “Immolation”).

And yet, Messa are still unmistakably Messa. From the yawing electronica that opens The Spin on “Void Meridian,” through The Gathering-meets-psychedelic-lounge-jazz of “The Dress” to the oppressive, brooding heaviness of closer “Thicker Blood,” the constantly shifting sonic palette draws on soundscapes that are familiar from each record in the band’s back catalogue. At the same time, The Spin is more anthemic than previous albums, with almost-nailed-on song o’ the year “Fire on the Roof” leading the way, its huge, trad doom chorus a thing of beauty, while the smoky, mesmerising verses find Sara almost chanting. In fact, “Fire…” is the start of a three-track run that, for me, is pretty well the best material Messa has written, as it leads into the fragile keys and bluesy, cathartic build of “Immolation” before “The Dress” hits. It is this that sets The Spin slightly apart from previous Messa albums, which have an organic flow to them, where this latest offering feels slightly more like a collection of songs.

While The Spin does feel less like a single, flowing composition than previous Messa records, it doesn’t lack cohesion, and the massive, standout highs offer plenty of compensation for that slight loss in flow. This may be explained by the fact that, unlike Close, the band chose to record this album separately, across several locations and periods, with (apparently) a lot of rearrangement of the material to get to the finished record. Messa also focused on simplifying and stripping back the song structures, which makes them more digestible. Although there are no weak songs on The Spin, opener “Void Meridian” lacks bite and never quite hits its stride, while penultimate cut “Reveal” feels like it belongs on an earlier Messa album, particularly in its chugging middle passage. I touched above on the beautiful guitar tone that Alberto and Mark Sade have found, so thick and meaty you can practically bite into it. Apparently, the band focused on using as much original 80s equipment as possible, which could have something to do with it.

At this point, it’s becoming apparent that Messa basically can’t miss. Whatever they turn their hand to, they manage to retain their identity, while writing diverse, interesting and, most importantly, absolutely banging albums. The Spin is no exception, from the bright, propulsive energy of “At Races” to the stark beauty of “Immolation,” Messa have done it again. At a tight 43 minutes, this album races by and, when it finishes, the only reason I don’t simply start it again is that I usually want to listen to “Fire on the Roof” a couple of times first. Less challenging and more immediate than previous records, but no less beautiful for it, The Spin perhaps shows the influence of bigger label Metal Blade on the band. I hope it earns them some deserved dollar bills.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: messa.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/MESSAproject
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

Dolphin Whisperer

My brother-in-law loves metal, and I don’t think he’d be offended if I were also to say that he’s not particularly invested in finding new metal to listen to in the modern scene. However, on one ride in the car, I had Messa’s 2022 opus Close on at a moderate volume, prompting him to investigate what exactly was enchanting his ears. After that outing, he and my sister returned to their home, another five-plus hour drive, and she sent me a text saying that they binged Messa’s discog a couple times on the way back; he was in love. You see, despite the quirks that give Messa their mystical air, the crafty Italians possess the secret to all great rock music: volume-scaling power, a unique and soaring vocal presence, and big, fat hooks. The Spin, of course, is no exception.

In that regard, Messa follows their own lineage by never delivering the same album twice. The journey from post/drone atmospherics of Belfry to the heavier occult/doom worn Feast for Water to the MENA jazz-loaded snake charming Close, each entry in their catalog serves as an ode to their inherent tendency to experiment while holding true to a base of doom weight and rock attitude. Vocalist Sara Bianchin has transformed alongside Messa’s journey too, with her earliest performances reflecting the youth of her experience in rawer mic reflections. But The Spin leans on sounds from the ’80s, and, in turn, Bianchin’s now studied attack runs recklessly through swirling and swelling layers of echo and shrill serenade. Elsewhere, chorus pedal abuse, gothy reverb, and low-end synth propulsions mark The Spin’s throwback dance in the Messa stride—Disintegration-echoing bass leads (“Void Meridian,” “At Races”) crashing against Tears for Fears brooding throbs (“The Dress,” “Thicker Blood”) running through call-and-response guitar lead explosions (every. song.). It’s easy to fall prey to the sense of nostalgia that such sounds stimulate.

However, in a sense of reverence for the past, not just a wistful longing, The Spin weaves its own home in familiar textures. Messa finds a comfort in dreamy textures indebted to foundational post-punk works—those of The Sound or Joy Division—while still injecting a metallic edge of heavyweight chord drives and aggressive rhythms (“Fire on the Roof,” “Thicker Blood”). Doom anchors the drama, as always, in slow builds and syllable stretches that crawl and lurch against Messa’s chosen palette of Roland-modulated simmers and proto-shoegaze dissonance (“Void Meridian,” “The Dress”). And, of course, Messa lives life in the fast lane switching and melding identities on a dime, with late album cut “Reveal” pairing a heavy blues twang, frantic bursts of blast beats, and Bianchin’s wailing narrative for an anachronistic detour that both upends and upholds The Spin’s playful historical lens.

As Messa’s shortest album to date, The Spin’s seven cuts go down smooth but lacking in the kind of wholeness that other works have held. On one hand, it’s easy to work in The Spin to whatever length of time allows—a quick hit or two of your favorites as you dress for the day ahead, a longer commute as the sun moves from straight in the eyes to waving from the side, a jog around the neighborhood with canine companions. Movement, or rather transience, sits at the core of Messa’s themes here after all: the chase for meaning in a strained world (“Void Meridian”), the weight of choice that can’t decide a push or pull (“Immolation”), and accepting what lurks around the corner (“Thicker Blood”). And so The Spin demands more as an encapsulation of wandering, but it’s a human quest that’s easy to indulge as you see fit.

Neither a slow-burn nor a peel out, The Spin saunters at a breathing, bustling pace that manages to hustle ahead of a growing movement gazey and hazey doom wielders. I, too find solace in genre cousins like the jazzy and equally textured Moths or the pleading missions of Slumbering Sun, but Messa continues to find ways to wield weaponized guitar heroism, fat-bottomed tones, and sultry synthesis in a way that feels true to their growing discography while reaching to new fans and new sounds. 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.

Rating: 4.0/5.0

#2025 #40 #Apr25 #BethHart #Blues #DoomJazz #DoomMetal #Eagles #GothicRock #GreenLung #HeavyMetal #ItalianMetal #JoyDivision #LittleAlbert #Messa #MetalBladeRecords #Pentagram #PinkFloyd #postPunk #PsychedelicRock #Review #Reviews #TearsForFears #TheCure #TheGathering #TheSound #TheSpin #Trouble #VanishingKids

Unbounded Terror – Something Is Rotten in Humanity Review

By Mark Z.

Unlike other major European countries, Spain has never been much of a hotbed for death metal, presumably because they’ve been too busy perfecting their paella (holy shit is that stuff good). That hasn’t stopped Spanish death metal bands from trying to make their mark, however, and possibly the first to make such an attempt was Unbounded Terror. Led by guitarist Vicente Payá, the group initially only managed to release one album, 1992’s Nest of Affliction, before going kaput. Vincente went on to be more prolific with his doom/death band Golgotha before eventually resurrecting Unbounded Terror for 2020’s Faith in Chaos. That album turned out to be a nice little pre-COVID surprise, deviating from Nest of Affliction’s Obituary-gone-atmospheric style in favor of something simpler, catchier, and better produced. The follow-up, 2022’s Echoes of Despair, was another enjoyable release that showed Golgotha’s more melodic tendencies bleeding into the Unbounded Terror formula, an influence that wasn’t entirely surprising given that the two groups also share bassist/vocalist Andrew Spinosa. Now, Vicente has somehow found time between all the fucking projects he’s involved with (including Holycide, Sons of Cult, and a bunch of other stuff I’ve never heard of) to unleash a fourth Unbounded Terror album, Something Is Rotten in Humanity. That title seems more true with each passing day. But what of the music within?

A lot of death metal released today can be readily defined by which old school band it mainly sounds like (usually Incantation, Autopsy, or Entombed/Dismember). In the case of Something Is Rotten, that band is Monstrosity. Like those Floridians, this album offers death metal that almost no fan of the genre would take issue with. The tempos are fast, but not too fast. The vocals are gurgly, but not stupidly so. The production is balanced and polished, but not to the point that it makes things feel sterile. And the riffs? They’re fine, too.

Initially, the approach works. “Fear of Dying” opens the record like a big greasy fist to the face, with meaty chugging riffs that give way to groaning tremolos before a nice melodic lick bursts in partway through. The Monstrosity comparison is especially apt with this track, but even those looking for a more measured version of Cannibal Corpse are likely to find enjoyment here (and elsewhere, for that matter). “Destiny of Evil” quickly mixes things up with blast beats, gyrating tremolos, a winding solo, and even some raspier vocals, while “Demons in Your Mind” works well enough by using a peppy, mid-paced beat to propel a tightly wound, pig-fart verse riff.

Sadly, it soon becomes apparent that “Demons” seems to have served as the template for most of the six tracks that follow. Other than its cleanly picked opening, “Reviving” sounds far too similar to “Demons,” and it took me a couple of listens to realize that the pause between “Reviving” and “Inside Death” was a transition between songs and not a false ending to the former track. Later songs like “Divine Virtue” and “Believing Again” also have a similar feel to “Demons” but are somehow even less compelling, causing the album’s 32-minute runtime to drag more than it should. Ironically, “The Disappointment” is actually one of the strongest cuts in the album’s second half, with a cruising, groovy swagger that its neighboring tracks lack. The instrumental closer “The Evil Cause” is another standout, as its crunchy and confident main riff at least offers something different. As another plus, the solos of lead guitarist Ancor Ramírez (Holycide) are fantastic throughout, with a rich sense of melody and a glorious feel that’s often lacking in death metal leads.

Overall, Something Is Rotten is a perfectly competent death metal record. It falls short, however, by not being anything else. Other than a few good songs and some great guitar solos, everything here is serviceable but not particularly notable, which is especially disappointing given how many standout ideas could be found on the two prior albums. Ultimately, it’s not bad, it’s not great, but at least it offers a nice break from masturbating to the thought of the next COVID variant wiping out me and the eight billion other naked apes that have infested this planet like a black mold. Sometimes, that’s all we can ask for.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: v0 mp3
Label: Xtreem Music | Bandcamp
Websites: unboundedterror.com | facebook.com/unboundedterror
Releases Worldwide: April 1st, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #CannibalCorpse #DeathMetal #Golgotha #Holycide #Monstrosity #Obituary #Review #Reviews #SomethingIsRottenInHumanity #SpanishMetal #UnboundedTerror #XtreemMusic

Allegaeon – The Ossuary Lens Review

By Maddog

Allegaeon’s six albums have received tumultuous marks in these halls. After their fantastic 2010 debut Fragments of Form and Function broke the score counter, Allegaeon sank as low as a 2.0 for 2016’s Proponent for Sentience in the eyes of then-tadpole GardensTale. While their latest outing recovered to a more respectable score, Allegaeon’s techy brand of melodeath has polarized socialites and critics alike. The band excelled with their riffier onslaughts and soaring melodies, but fell for the forbidden fruit of proggy excess. The Ossuary Lens showcases a leaner, meaner Allegaeon. I won’t be listening to it in a decade, but it’s a worthy soundtrack for today.

Allegaeon have trimmed their bloat but not their ambitions. For the uninitiated, Allegaeon’s brand of death metal resembles a noodlier Arsis, with its melodicism matched only by its technicality. That said, Allegaeonites will recall that these Coloradans would rather cover Yes or Rush than classic death metal. Allegaeon’s career has sometimes descended into a vulgar display of prog, combining protracted tracks with a penchant for flamenco breaks. These proggy elements live on, as Allegaeon gallops from punchy riffs to melodic leads to clean jams and back again. However, The Ossuary Lens displays newfound restraint. At 45 minutes, this is the band’s shortest album by a full eight minutes. Allegaeon’s escapades no longer leave a salty aftertaste, and the band’s forays into other genres no longer feel like pleas for a yardstick. The Ossuary Lens preserves its identity without getting lost in its own reflection.

Accordingly, The Ossuary Lens hits across both its bigly riffs and its creative tangents. The album’s fierier cuts are a refreshing return to form, with “The Swarm” reviving Elements of the Infinite’s infectious riffcraft. As hoped, these sections still ooze technicality, as guitarists Greg Burgess and Michael Stancel dominate their fretboards even in their most explosive moments. Meanwhile, Allegaeon’s genre-bending experiments feel creative but not overwrought. Most notably, “Dark Matter Dynamics” pulls a First Fragment stunt of seamlessly transitioning between jubilant strumming (courtesy of Adrian Bellue) and formidable death metal melodies. Indeed, The Ossuary Lens hits hardest when these forces unite. For instance, “Carried by Delusion” voyages from serene melodies to Revocation worship to blackened tremolos to upbeat bass and guitar solos to downcast crunchy riffs, eviscerating both my heartstrings and my neck. The Ossuary Lens’ moderation goes a long way. Rather than clobbering the listener with decades-long Spanish guitar jams, The Ossuary Lens presents its creative side through measured four-minute tracks. Tech, prog, melody, and home sweet death metal unite into a potent concoction.

While each piece of The Ossuary Lens is impressive in isolation, the album sometimes loses my interest. One reason is its lack of climactic moments. During tracks like “Scythe” and “Wake Circling Above,” I zoned out and had to abuse the rewind button, because there weren’t enough valleys, buildups, and peaks to keep me engaged. Another reason is sequencing; while the five middle tracks from “Driftwood” through “Dark Matter Dynamics” shine, the bookends fall short. The most predictable reason is production. Despite aiming for creativity and dynamism in their songwriting, Allegaeon continues to brickwall their albums into tepid gruel. As a result, The Ossuary Lens often loses my focus despite its seemingly manageable length. Conversely, the album’s highlights show how it’s done. Most strikingly, “Driftwood” has colonized my brain with a soulful mix of melodeath and metalcore that recalls Venom Prison. With highs this high, it’s a shame that The Ossuary Lens often slips into uniformity.

Allegaeon is a relatively new band, but they inspire nostalgia. I vividly recall pimply nights with the addictive Fragments of Form and Function. I still think that “Accelerated Evolution” and “Genocide for Praise” are two of the greatest album closers of this millennium. And the iconic 2014 music video for “1.618” sealed Allegaeon’s place in my heart forever. Measured against Allegaeon’s first three albums, The Ossuary Lens falls short, hampered by its dearth of standout moments. Still, it isn’t a stinker. It still bangs; it still shreds; it still progs. Warts and all, it earns its keep.

Rating: Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: allegaeon.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Allegaeon
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

Iceberg

Allegaeon are something of a known quantity around here, having been nodded at by Steel, eviscerated by GardensTale, and patched up by Cherd. The Colorado crew helmed by guitarist Greg Burgess have amassed a legion of rabid followers (who are sure to raise a ruckus in the comment section) for their signature style of Gothenburg-meets-tech-death. I’ll admit to being a fan of 2016’s Proponent for Sentience, one of the first reviews I read on this site, but got lost amidst the dense material of Apoptosis and frankly didn’t even give Damnum a shot. Allegaeon’s latest LP, The Ossuary Lens, sees the return of original vocalist Ezra Haynes and a much-welcomed stripped-down runtime, two intriguing changes in my book. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been excited about an Allegaeon release, can The Ossuary Lens be the record to change that?

Allegaeon’s style of melo-tech-death needs little introduction here, but for those of you who haven’t been following the past decade’s worth of drama, I’ll provide the CliffsNotes. Sweeping, scalar guitar riffs courtesy of Burgess and Michael Stancel form the backbone of most tracks, and the dual guitars make for an indulgent offering of solos (“Driftwood,” “Wake Circling Above”). The drums here, while dripping with modern production sheen, are compelling and energetic without being overly technical, a sincere compliment for Jeff Saltzman. Allegaeon have never strayed from highlighting their bass players, and standout moments in “Chaos Theory” and “Carried by Delusion” show Brandon Michael has as much a command of melody as he does of relentless, galloping rhythms. Ezra Haynes, of Elements of the Infinite fame, comes roaring back to life on The Ossuary Lens, employing a gritty death roar alongside commendable clean vocals on “Driftwood” and “Wake Circling Above.” The performances on The Ossuary Lens are everything one would come to expect from a band nearly two decades into their career, and make for a wholly engaging listening experience.

Allegaeon albums tend to have similar issues holding them back, and the band have largely addressed them on The Ossuary Lens. First and foremost is the 45-minute runtime, a nearly 25% reduction in music from their last three records. The renewed focus on editing shines, with tracks that hit fast and get out of the way while still managing to be memorable (“The Swarm,” “Imperial”). This represents the first major improvement in The Ossuary Lens; Allegaeon have not only figured out that less is more, but they’ve also magnified the parts that work. Sing-along melodeath choruses lurk throughout the album (“Driftwood,” “Dies Irae”) but none so impactful as penultimate track “Wake Circling Above.” Clearly the best Insomnium track released this year, Allegaeon’s ode to all things Gothenburg is a monumental testament to what this band can do when they stop doing so much and let the music dictate the song’s course.

The hits don’t stop there. The Ossuary Lens takes a while to really get moving, with the first three tracks treading familiar territory. But then comes “Dies Irae,” a barnburner that incorporates the three-note musical motif for the Dies Irae text of the Requiem Mass, a nice music nerd Easter Egg that only enhances the ripping triplet-infused breakdown sitting in the song’s center. And Burgess’ requisite flamenco guitar, something sorely overused in Proponent for Sentience, is here condensed into the driving groove of “Dark Matter Dynamics,” a powerfully infectious rhythm ripped straight from a Rodrigo y Gabriela record, or the breath-before-the-plunge moments of the darkly harrowing “Carried by Delusion.” Whereas previous Allegaeon records were dense, academic affairs that required shoveling through noise and notes to discern, The Ossuary Lens presents a barebones masterclass on Allegaeon’s modus operandi.

This isn’t to say that The Ossuary Lens is infallible. Early tracks “Chaos Theory” and “Driftwood” are technically proficient, but fail to reach the emotional highs of the rest of their brethren. Final track “Scythe,” while holding some excellent verse grooves, feels underbaked after the astonishing “Wake Circling Above,” and its cropped ending leaves the album on more of a question mark than a statement. And there’s the lingering issue of the DR5 master and production, which, while not as obscene as earlier records, is still crushed and fatiguing. But overall, The Ossuary Lens represents a massively successful repositioning for the Coloradoans, making it one of my favorite spins of the year for its precision, refinement, and memorability. If Allegaeon continue on this trajectory, we may see their best work yet just over the horizon.

Rating: 3.5/5.0

#2025 #30 #35 #Allegaeon #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #Arsis #DeathMetal #FirstFragment #Insomnium #Melodeath #MelodicDeathMetal #MetalBlade #MetalBladeRecords #ProgressiveDeath #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveTechnicalDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Revocation #RodrigoYGabriela #Rush #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheOssuaryLens #VenomPrison #Yes

Allegaeon – The Ossuary Lens Review

By Maddog

Allegaeon’s six albums have received tumultuous marks in these halls. After their fantastic 2010 debut Fragments of Form and Function broke the score counter, Allegaeon sank as low as a 2.0 for 2016’s Proponent for Sentience in the eyes of then-tadpole GardensTale. While their latest outing recovered to a more respectable score, Allegaeon’s techy brand of melodeath has polarized socialites and critics alike. The band excelled with their riffier onslaughts and soaring melodies, but fell for the forbidden fruit of proggy excess. The Ossuary Lens showcases a leaner, meaner Allegaeon. I won’t be listening to it in a decade, but it’s a worthy soundtrack for today.

Allegaeon have trimmed their bloat but not their ambitions. For the uninitiated, Allegaeon’s brand of death metal resembles a noodlier Arsis, with its melodicism matched only by its technicality. That said, Allegaeonites will recall that these Coloradans would rather cover Yes or Rush than classic death metal. Allegaeon’s career has sometimes descended into a vulgar display of prog, combining protracted tracks with a penchant for flamenco breaks. These proggy elements live on, as Allegaeon gallops from punchy riffs to melodic leads to clean jams and back again. However, The Ossuary Lens displays newfound restraint. At 45 minutes, this is the band’s shortest album by a full eight minutes. Allegaeon’s escapades no longer leave a salty aftertaste, and the band’s forays into other genres no longer feel like pleas for a yardstick. The Ossuary Lens preserves its identity without getting lost in its own reflection.

Accordingly, The Ossuary Lens hits across both its bigly riffs and its creative tangents. The album’s fierier cuts are a refreshing return to form, with “The Swarm” reviving Elements of the Infinite’s infectious riffcraft. As hoped, these sections still ooze technicality, as guitarists Greg Burgess and Michael Stancel dominate their fretboards even in their most explosive moments. Meanwhile, Allegaeon’s genre-bending experiments feel creative but not overwrought. Most notably, “Dark Matter Dynamics” pulls a First Fragment stunt of seamlessly transitioning between jubilant strumming (courtesy of Adrian Bellue) and formidable death metal melodies. Indeed, The Ossuary Lens hits hardest when these forces unite. For instance, “Carried by Delusion” voyages from serene melodies to Revocation worship to blackened tremolos to upbeat bass and guitar solos to downcast crunchy riffs, eviscerating both my heartstrings and my neck. The Ossuary Lens’ moderation goes a long way. Rather than clobbering the listener with decades-long Spanish guitar jams, The Ossuary Lens presents its creative side through measured four-minute tracks. Tech, prog, melody, and home sweet death metal unite into a potent concoction.

While each piece of The Ossuary Lens is impressive in isolation, the album sometimes loses my interest. One reason is its lack of climactic moments. During tracks like “Scythe” and “Wake Circling Above,” I zoned out and had to abuse the rewind button, because there weren’t enough valleys, buildups, and peaks to keep me engaged. Another reason is sequencing; while the five middle tracks from “Driftwood” through “Dark Matter Dynamics” shine, the bookends fall short. The most predictable reason is production. Despite aiming for creativity and dynamism in their songwriting, Allegaeon continues to brickwall their albums into tepid gruel. As a result, The Ossuary Lens often loses my focus despite its seemingly manageable length. Conversely, the album’s highlights show how it’s done. Most strikingly, “Driftwood” has colonized my brain with a soulful mix of melodeath and metalcore that recalls Venom Prison. With highs this high, it’s a shame that The Ossuary Lens often slips into uniformity.

Allegaeon is a relatively new band, but they inspire nostalgia. I vividly recall pimply nights with the addictive Fragments of Form and Function. I still think that “Accelerated Evolution” and “Genocide for Praise” are two of the greatest album closers of this millennium. And the iconic 2014 music video for “1.618” sealed Allegaeon’s place in my heart forever. Measured against Allegaeon’s first three albums, The Ossuary Lens falls short, hampered by its dearth of standout moments. Still, it isn’t a stinker. It still bangs; it still shreds; it still progs. Warts and all, it earns its keep.

Rating: Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: allegaeon.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Allegaeon
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

Iceberg

Allegaeon are something of a known quantity around here, having been nodded at by Steel, eviscerated by GardensTale, and patched up by Cherd. The Colorado crew helmed by guitarist Greg Burgess have amassed a legion of rabid followers (who are sure to raise a ruckus in the comment section) for their signature style of Gothenburg-meets-tech-death. I’ll admit to being a fan of 2016’s Proponent for Sentience, one of the first reviews I read on this site, but got lost amidst the dense material of Apoptosis and frankly didn’t even give Damnum a shot. Allegaeon’s latest LP, The Ossuary Lens, sees the return of original vocalist Ezra Haynes and a much-welcomed stripped-down runtime, two intriguing changes in my book. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been excited about an Allegaeon release, can The Ossuary Lens be the record to change that?

Allegaeon’s style of melo-tech-death needs little introduction here, but for those of you who haven’t been following the past decade’s worth of drama, I’ll provide the CliffsNotes. Sweeping, scalar guitar riffs courtesy of Burgess and Michael Stancel form the backbone of most tracks, and the dual guitars make for an indulgent offering of solos (“Driftwood,” “Wake Circling Above”). The drums here, while dripping with modern production sheen, are compelling and energetic without being overly technical, a sincere compliment for Jeff Saltzman. Allegaeon have never strayed from highlighting their bass players, and standout moments in “Chaos Theory” and “Carried by Delusion” show Brandon Michael has as much a command of melody as he does of relentless, galloping rhythms. Ezra Haynes, of Elements of the Infinite fame, comes roaring back to life on The Ossuary Lens, employing a gritty death roar alongside commendable clean vocals on “Driftwood” and “Wake Circling Above.” The performances on The Ossuary Lens are everything one would come to expect from a band nearly two decades into their career, and make for a wholly engaging listening experience.

Allegaeon albums tend to have similar issues holding them back, and the band have largely addressed them on The Ossuary Lens. First and foremost is the 45-minute runtime, a nearly 25% reduction in music from their last three records. The renewed focus on editing shines, with tracks that hit fast and get out of the way while still managing to be memorable (“The Swarm,” “Imperial”). This represents the first major improvement in The Ossuary Lens; Allegaeon have not only figured out that less is more, but they’ve also magnified the parts that work. Sing-along melodeath choruses lurk throughout the album (“Driftwood,” “Dies Irae”) but none so impactful as penultimate track “Wake Circling Above.” Clearly the best Insomnium track released this year, Allegaeon’s ode to all things Gothenburg is a monumental testament to what this band can do when they stop doing so much and let the music dictate the song’s course.

The hits don’t stop there. The Ossuary Lens takes a while to really get moving, with the first three tracks treading familiar territory. But then comes “Dies Irae,” a barnburner that incorporates the three-note musical motif for the Dies Irae text of the Requiem Mass, a nice music nerd Easter Egg that only enhances the ripping triplet-infused breakdown sitting in the song’s center. And Burgess’ requisite flamenco guitar, something sorely overused in Proponent for Sentience, is here condensed into the driving groove of “Dark Matter Dynamics,” a powerfully infectious rhythm ripped straight from a Rodrigo y Gabriela record, or the breath-before-the-plunge moments of the darkly harrowing “Carried by Delusion.” Whereas previous Allegaeon records were dense, academic affairs that required shoveling through noise and notes to discern, The Ossuary Lens presents a barebones masterclass on Allegaeon’s modus operandi.

This isn’t to say that The Ossuary Lens is infallible. Early tracks “Chaos Theory” and “Driftwood” are technically proficient, but fail to reach the emotional highs of the rest of their brethren. Final track “Scythe,” while holding some excellent verse grooves, feels underbaked after the astonishing “Wake Circling Above,” and its cropped ending leaves the album on more of a question mark than a statement. And there’s the lingering issue of the DR5 master and production, which, while not as obscene as earlier records, is still crushed and fatiguing. But overall, The Ossuary Lens represents a massively successful repositioning for the Coloradoans, making it one of my favorite spins of the year for its precision, refinement, and memorability. If Allegaeon continue on this trajectory, we may see their best work yet just over the horizon.

Rating: 3.5/5.0

#2025 #30 #35 #Allegaeon #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #Arsis #DeathMetal #FirstFragment #Insomnium #Melodeath #MelodicDeathMetal #MetalBlade #MetalBladeRecords #ProgressiveDeath #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveTechnicalDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Revocation #RodrigoYGabriela #Rush #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheOssuaryLens #VenomPrison #Yes

Allegaeon – The Ossuary Lens Review

By Maddog

Allegaeon’s six albums have received tumultuous marks in these halls. After their fantastic 2010 debut Fragments of Form and Function broke the score counter, Allegaeon sank as low as a 2.0 for 2016’s Proponent for Sentience in the eyes of then-tadpole GardensTale. While their latest outing recovered to a more respectable score, Allegaeon’s techy brand of melodeath has polarized socialites and critics alike. The band excelled with their riffier onslaughts and soaring melodies, but fell for the forbidden fruit of proggy excess. The Ossuary Lens showcases a leaner, meaner Allegaeon. I won’t be listening to it in a decade, but it’s a worthy soundtrack for today.

Allegaeon have trimmed their bloat but not their ambitions. For the uninitiated, Allegaeon’s brand of death metal resembles a noodlier Arsis, with its melodicism matched only by its technicality. That said, Allegaeonites will recall that these Coloradans would rather cover Yes or Rush than classic death metal. Allegaeon’s career has sometimes descended into a vulgar display of prog, combining protracted tracks with a penchant for flamenco breaks. These proggy elements live on, as Allegaeon gallops from punchy riffs to melodic leads to clean jams and back again. However, The Ossuary Lens displays newfound restraint. At 45 minutes, this is the band’s shortest album by a full eight minutes. Allegaeon’s escapades no longer leave a salty aftertaste, and the band’s forays into other genres no longer feel like pleas for a yardstick. The Ossuary Lens preserves its identity without getting lost in its own reflection.

Accordingly, The Ossuary Lens hits across both its bigly riffs and its creative tangents. The album’s fierier cuts are a refreshing return to form, with “The Swarm” reviving Elements of the Infinite’s infectious riffcraft. As hoped, these sections still ooze technicality, as guitarists Greg Burgess and Michael Stancel dominate their fretboards even in their most explosive moments. Meanwhile, Allegaeon’s genre-bending experiments feel creative but not overwrought. Most notably, “Dark Matter Dynamics” pulls a First Fragment stunt of seamlessly transitioning between jubilant strumming (courtesy of Adrian Bellue) and formidable death metal melodies. Indeed, The Ossuary Lens hits hardest when these forces unite. For instance, “Carried by Delusion” voyages from serene melodies to Revocation worship to blackened tremolos to upbeat bass and guitar solos to downcast crunchy riffs, eviscerating both my heartstrings and my neck. The Ossuary Lens’ moderation goes a long way. Rather than clobbering the listener with decades-long Spanish guitar jams, The Ossuary Lens presents its creative side through measured four-minute tracks. Tech, prog, melody, and home sweet death metal unite into a potent concoction.

While each piece of The Ossuary Lens is impressive in isolation, the album sometimes loses my interest. One reason is its lack of climactic moments. During tracks like “Scythe” and “Wake Circling Above,” I zoned out and had to abuse the rewind button, because there weren’t enough valleys, buildups, and peaks to keep me engaged. Another reason is sequencing; while the five middle tracks from “Driftwood” through “Dark Matter Dynamics” shine, the bookends fall short. The most predictable reason is production. Despite aiming for creativity and dynamism in their songwriting, Allegaeon continues to brickwall their albums into tepid gruel. As a result, The Ossuary Lens often loses my focus despite its seemingly manageable length. Conversely, the album’s highlights show how it’s done. Most strikingly, “Driftwood” has colonized my brain with a soulful mix of melodeath and metalcore that recalls Venom Prison. With highs this high, it’s a shame that The Ossuary Lens often slips into uniformity.

Allegaeon is a relatively new band, but they inspire nostalgia. I vividly recall pimply nights with the addictive Fragments of Form and Function. I still think that “Accelerated Evolution” and “Genocide for Praise” are two of the greatest album closers of this millennium. And the iconic 2014 music video for “1.618” sealed Allegaeon’s place in my heart forever. Measured against Allegaeon’s first three albums, The Ossuary Lens falls short, hampered by its dearth of standout moments. Still, it isn’t a stinker. It still bangs; it still shreds; it still progs. Warts and all, it earns its keep.

Rating: Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: allegaeon.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Allegaeon
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

Iceberg

Allegaeon are something of a known quantity around here, having been nodded at by Steel, eviscerated by GardensTale, and patched up by Cherd. The Colorado crew helmed by guitarist Greg Burgess have amassed a legion of rabid followers (who are sure to raise a ruckus in the comment section) for their signature style of Gothenburg-meets-tech-death. I’ll admit to being a fan of 2016’s Proponent for Sentience, one of the first reviews I read on this site, but got lost amidst the dense material of Apoptosis and frankly didn’t even give Damnum a shot. Allegaeon’s latest LP, The Ossuary Lens, sees the return of original vocalist Ezra Haynes and a much-welcomed stripped-down runtime, two intriguing changes in my book. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been excited about an Allegaeon release, can The Ossuary Lens be the record to change that?

Allegaeon’s style of melo-tech-death needs little introduction here, but for those of you who haven’t been following the past decade’s worth of drama, I’ll provide the CliffsNotes. Sweeping, scalar guitar riffs courtesy of Burgess and Michael Stancel form the backbone of most tracks, and the dual guitars make for an indulgent offering of solos (“Driftwood,” “Wake Circling Above”). The drums here, while dripping with modern production sheen, are compelling and energetic without being overly technical, a sincere compliment for Jeff Saltzman. Allegaeon have never strayed from highlighting their bass players, and standout moments in “Chaos Theory” and “Carried by Delusion” show Brandon Michael has as much a command of melody as he does of relentless, galloping rhythms. Ezra Haynes, of Elements of the Infinite fame, comes roaring back to life on The Ossuary Lens, employing a gritty death roar alongside commendable clean vocals on “Driftwood” and “Wake Circling Above.” The performances on The Ossuary Lens are everything one would come to expect from a band nearly two decades into their career, and make for a wholly engaging listening experience.

Allegaeon albums tend to have similar issues holding them back, and the band have largely addressed them on The Ossuary Lens. First and foremost is the 45-minute runtime, a nearly 25% reduction in music from their last three records. The renewed focus on editing shines, with tracks that hit fast and get out of the way while still managing to be memorable (“The Swarm,” “Imperial”). This represents the first major improvement in The Ossuary Lens; Allegaeon have not only figured out that less is more, but they’ve also magnified the parts that work. Sing-along melodeath choruses lurk throughout the album (“Driftwood,” “Dies Irae”) but none so impactful as penultimate track “Wake Circling Above.” Clearly the best Insomnium track released this year, Allegaeon’s ode to all things Gothenburg is a monumental testament to what this band can do when they stop doing so much and let the music dictate the song’s course.

The hits don’t stop there. The Ossuary Lens takes a while to really get moving, with the first three tracks treading familiar territory. But then comes “Dies Irae,” a barnburner that incorporates the three-note musical motif for the Dies Irae text of the Requiem Mass, a nice music nerd Easter Egg that only enhances the ripping triplet-infused breakdown sitting in the song’s center. And Burgess’ requisite flamenco guitar, something sorely overused in Proponent for Sentience, is here condensed into the driving groove of “Dark Matter Dynamics,” a powerfully infectious rhythm ripped straight from a Rodrigo y Gabriela record, or the breath-before-the-plunge moments of the darkly harrowing “Carried by Delusion.” Whereas previous Allegaeon records were dense, academic affairs that required shoveling through noise and notes to discern, The Ossuary Lens presents a barebones masterclass on Allegaeon’s modus operandi.

This isn’t to say that The Ossuary Lens is infallible. Early tracks “Chaos Theory” and “Driftwood” are technically proficient, but fail to reach the emotional highs of the rest of their brethren. Final track “Scythe,” while holding some excellent verse grooves, feels underbaked after the astonishing “Wake Circling Above,” and its cropped ending leaves the album on more of a question mark than a statement. And there’s the lingering issue of the DR5 master and production, which, while not as obscene as earlier records, is still crushed and fatiguing. But overall, The Ossuary Lens represents a massively successful repositioning for the Coloradoans, making it one of my favorite spins of the year for its precision, refinement, and memorability. If Allegaeon continue on this trajectory, we may see their best work yet just over the horizon.

Rating: 3.5/5.0

#2025 #30 #35 #Allegaeon #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #Arsis #DeathMetal #FirstFragment #Insomnium #Melodeath #MelodicDeathMetal #MetalBlade #MetalBladeRecords #ProgressiveDeath #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveTechnicalDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Revocation #RodrigoYGabriela #Rush #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheOssuaryLens #VenomPrison #Yes

Allegaeon – The Ossuary Lens Review

By Maddog

Allegaeon’s six albums have received tumultuous marks in these halls. After their fantastic 2010 debut Fragments of Form and Function broke the score counter, Allegaeon sank as low as a 2.0 for 2016’s Proponent for Sentience in the eyes of then-tadpole GardensTale. While their latest outing recovered to a more respectable score, Allegaeon’s techy brand of melodeath has polarized socialites and critics alike. The band excelled with their riffier onslaughts and soaring melodies, but fell for the forbidden fruit of proggy excess. The Ossuary Lens showcases a leaner, meaner Allegaeon. I won’t be listening to it in a decade, but it’s a worthy soundtrack for today.

Allegaeon have trimmed their bloat but not their ambitions. For the uninitiated, Allegaeon’s brand of death metal resembles a noodlier Arsis, with its melodicism matched only by its technicality. That said, Allegaeonites will recall that these Coloradans would rather cover Yes or Rush than classic death metal. Allegaeon’s career has sometimes descended into a vulgar display of prog, combining protracted tracks with a penchant for flamenco breaks. These proggy elements live on, as Allegaeon gallops from punchy riffs to melodic leads to clean jams and back again. However, The Ossuary Lens displays newfound restraint. At 45 minutes, this is the band’s shortest album by a full eight minutes. Allegaeon’s escapades no longer leave a salty aftertaste, and the band’s forays into other genres no longer feel like pleas for a yardstick. The Ossuary Lens preserves its identity without getting lost in its own reflection.

Accordingly, The Ossuary Lens hits across both its bigly riffs and its creative tangents. The album’s fierier cuts are a refreshing return to form, with “The Swarm” reviving Elements of the Infinite’s infectious riffcraft. As hoped, these sections still ooze technicality, as guitarists Greg Burgess and Michael Stancel dominate their fretboards even in their most explosive moments. Meanwhile, Allegaeon’s genre-bending experiments feel creative but not overwrought. Most notably, “Dark Matter Dynamics” pulls a First Fragment stunt of seamlessly transitioning between jubilant strumming (courtesy of Adrian Bellue) and formidable death metal melodies. Indeed, The Ossuary Lens hits hardest when these forces unite. For instance, “Carried by Delusion” voyages from serene melodies to Revocation worship to blackened tremolos to upbeat bass and guitar solos to downcast crunchy riffs, eviscerating both my heartstrings and my neck. The Ossuary Lens’ moderation goes a long way. Rather than clobbering the listener with decades-long Spanish guitar jams, The Ossuary Lens presents its creative side through measured four-minute tracks. Tech, prog, melody, and home sweet death metal unite into a potent concoction.

While each piece of The Ossuary Lens is impressive in isolation, the album sometimes loses my interest. One reason is its lack of climactic moments. During tracks like “Scythe” and “Wake Circling Above,” I zoned out and had to abuse the rewind button, because there weren’t enough valleys, buildups, and peaks to keep me engaged. Another reason is sequencing; while the five middle tracks from “Driftwood” through “Dark Matter Dynamics” shine, the bookends fall short. The most predictable reason is production. Despite aiming for creativity and dynamism in their songwriting, Allegaeon continues to brickwall their albums into tepid gruel. As a result, The Ossuary Lens often loses my focus despite its seemingly manageable length. Conversely, the album’s highlights show how it’s done. Most strikingly, “Driftwood” has colonized my brain with a soulful mix of melodeath and metalcore that recalls Venom Prison. With highs this high, it’s a shame that The Ossuary Lens often slips into uniformity.

Allegaeon is a relatively new band, but they inspire nostalgia. I vividly recall pimply nights with the addictive Fragments of Form and Function. I still think that “Accelerated Evolution” and “Genocide for Praise” are two of the greatest album closers of this millennium. And the iconic 2014 music video for “1.618” sealed Allegaeon’s place in my heart forever. Measured against Allegaeon’s first three albums, The Ossuary Lens falls short, hampered by its dearth of standout moments. Still, it isn’t a stinker. It still bangs; it still shreds; it still progs. Warts and all, it earns its keep.

Rating: Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: allegaeon.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Allegaeon
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

Iceberg

Allegaeon are something of a known quantity around here, having been nodded at by Steel, eviscerated by GardensTale, and patched up by Cherd. The Colorado crew helmed by guitarist Greg Burgess have amassed a legion of rabid followers (who are sure to raise a ruckus in the comment section) for their signature style of Gothenburg-meets-tech-death. I’ll admit to being a fan of 2016’s Proponent for Sentience, one of the first reviews I read on this site, but got lost amidst the dense material of Apoptosis and frankly didn’t even give Damnum a shot. Allegaeon’s latest LP, The Ossuary Lens, sees the return of original vocalist Ezra Haynes and a much-welcomed stripped-down runtime, two intriguing changes in my book. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been excited about an Allegaeon release, can The Ossuary Lens be the record to change that?

Allegaeon’s style of melo-tech-death needs little introduction here, but for those of you who haven’t been following the past decade’s worth of drama, I’ll provide the CliffsNotes. Sweeping, scalar guitar riffs courtesy of Burgess and Michael Stancel form the backbone of most tracks, and the dual guitars make for an indulgent offering of solos (“Driftwood,” “Wake Circling Above”). The drums here, while dripping with modern production sheen, are compelling and energetic without being overly technical, a sincere compliment for Jeff Saltzman. Allegaeon have never strayed from highlighting their bass players, and standout moments in “Chaos Theory” and “Carried by Delusion” show Brandon Michael has as much a command of melody as he does of relentless, galloping rhythms. Ezra Haynes, of Elements of the Infinite fame, comes roaring back to life on The Ossuary Lens, employing a gritty death roar alongside commendable clean vocals on “Driftwood” and “Wake Circling Above.” The performances on The Ossuary Lens are everything one would come to expect from a band nearly two decades into their career, and make for a wholly engaging listening experience.

Allegaeon albums tend to have similar issues holding them back, and the band have largely addressed them on The Ossuary Lens. First and foremost is the 45-minute runtime, a nearly 25% reduction in music from their last three records. The renewed focus on editing shines, with tracks that hit fast and get out of the way while still managing to be memorable (“The Swarm,” “Imperial”). This represents the first major improvement in The Ossuary Lens; Allegaeon have not only figured out that less is more, but they’ve also magnified the parts that work. Sing-along melodeath choruses lurk throughout the album (“Driftwood,” “Dies Irae”) but none so impactful as penultimate track “Wake Circling Above.” Clearly the best Insomnium track released this year, Allegaeon’s ode to all things Gothenburg is a monumental testament to what this band can do when they stop doing so much and let the music dictate the song’s course.

The hits don’t stop there. The Ossuary Lens takes a while to really get moving, with the first three tracks treading familiar territory. But then comes “Dies Irae,” a barnburner that incorporates the three-note musical motif for the Dies Irae text of the Requiem Mass, a nice music nerd Easter Egg that only enhances the ripping triplet-infused breakdown sitting in the song’s center. And Burgess’ requisite flamenco guitar, something sorely overused in Proponent for Sentience, is here condensed into the driving groove of “Dark Matter Dynamics,” a powerfully infectious rhythm ripped straight from a Rodrigo y Gabriela record, or the breath-before-the-plunge moments of the darkly harrowing “Carried by Delusion.” Whereas previous Allegaeon records were dense, academic affairs that required shoveling through noise and notes to discern, The Ossuary Lens presents a barebones masterclass on Allegaeon’s modus operandi.

This isn’t to say that The Ossuary Lens is infallible. Early tracks “Chaos Theory” and “Driftwood” are technically proficient, but fail to reach the emotional highs of the rest of their brethren. Final track “Scythe,” while holding some excellent verse grooves, feels underbaked after the astonishing “Wake Circling Above,” and its cropped ending leaves the album on more of a question mark than a statement. And there’s the lingering issue of the DR5 master and production, which, while not as obscene as earlier records, is still crushed and fatiguing. But overall, The Ossuary Lens represents a massively successful repositioning for the Coloradoans, making it one of my favorite spins of the year for its precision, refinement, and memorability. If Allegaeon continue on this trajectory, we may see their best work yet just over the horizon.

Rating: 3.5/5.0

#2025 #30 #35 #Allegaeon #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #Arsis #DeathMetal #FirstFragment #Insomnium #Melodeath #MelodicDeathMetal #MetalBlade #MetalBladeRecords #ProgressiveDeath #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveTechnicalDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Revocation #RodrigoYGabriela #Rush #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheOssuaryLens #VenomPrison #Yes

Allegaeon – The Ossuary Lens Review

By Maddog

Allegaeon’s six albums have received tumultuous marks in these halls. After their fantastic 2010 debut Fragments of Form and Function broke the score counter, Allegaeon sank as low as a 2.0 for 2016’s Proponent for Sentience in the eyes of then-tadpole GardensTale. While their latest outing recovered to a more respectable score, Allegaeon’s techy brand of melodeath has polarized socialites and critics alike. The band excelled with their riffier onslaughts and soaring melodies, but fell for the forbidden fruit of proggy excess. The Ossuary Lens showcases a leaner, meaner Allegaeon. I won’t be listening to it in a decade, but it’s a worthy soundtrack for today.

Allegaeon have trimmed their bloat but not their ambitions. For the uninitiated, Allegaeon’s brand of death metal resembles a noodlier Arsis, with its melodicism matched only by its technicality. That said, Allegaeonites will recall that these Coloradans would rather cover Yes or Rush than classic death metal. Allegaeon’s career has sometimes descended into a vulgar display of prog, combining protracted tracks with a penchant for flamenco breaks. These proggy elements live on, as Allegaeon gallops from punchy riffs to melodic leads to clean jams and back again. However, The Ossuary Lens displays newfound restraint. At 45 minutes, this is the band’s shortest album by a full eight minutes. Allegaeon’s escapades no longer leave a salty aftertaste, and the band’s forays into other genres no longer feel like pleas for a yardstick. The Ossuary Lens preserves its identity without getting lost in its own reflection.

Accordingly, The Ossuary Lens hits across both its bigly riffs and its creative tangents. The album’s fierier cuts are a refreshing return to form, with “The Swarm” reviving Elements of the Infinite’s infectious riffcraft. As hoped, these sections still ooze technicality, as guitarists Greg Burgess and Michael Stancel dominate their fretboards even in their most explosive moments. Meanwhile, Allegaeon’s genre-bending experiments feel creative but not overwrought. Most notably, “Dark Matter Dynamics” pulls a First Fragment stunt of seamlessly transitioning between jubilant strumming (courtesy of Adrian Bellue) and formidable death metal melodies. Indeed, The Ossuary Lens hits hardest when these forces unite. For instance, “Carried by Delusion” voyages from serene melodies to Revocation worship to blackened tremolos to upbeat bass and guitar solos to downcast crunchy riffs, eviscerating both my heartstrings and my neck. The Ossuary Lens’ moderation goes a long way. Rather than clobbering the listener with decades-long Spanish guitar jams, The Ossuary Lens presents its creative side through measured four-minute tracks. Tech, prog, melody, and home sweet death metal unite into a potent concoction.

While each piece of The Ossuary Lens is impressive in isolation, the album sometimes loses my interest. One reason is its lack of climactic moments. During tracks like “Scythe” and “Wake Circling Above,” I zoned out and had to abuse the rewind button, because there weren’t enough valleys, buildups, and peaks to keep me engaged. Another reason is sequencing; while the five middle tracks from “Driftwood” through “Dark Matter Dynamics” shine, the bookends fall short. The most predictable reason is production. Despite aiming for creativity and dynamism in their songwriting, Allegaeon continues to brickwall their albums into tepid gruel. As a result, The Ossuary Lens often loses my focus despite its seemingly manageable length. Conversely, the album’s highlights show how it’s done. Most strikingly, “Driftwood” has colonized my brain with a soulful mix of melodeath and metalcore that recalls Venom Prison. With highs this high, it’s a shame that The Ossuary Lens often slips into uniformity.

Allegaeon is a relatively new band, but they inspire nostalgia. I vividly recall pimply nights with the addictive Fragments of Form and Function. I still think that “Accelerated Evolution” and “Genocide for Praise” are two of the greatest album closers of this millennium. And the iconic 2014 music video for “1.618” sealed Allegaeon’s place in my heart forever. Measured against Allegaeon’s first three albums, The Ossuary Lens falls short, hampered by its dearth of standout moments. Still, it isn’t a stinker. It still bangs; it still shreds; it still progs. Warts and all, it earns its keep.

Rating: Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: allegaeon.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Allegaeon
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

Iceberg

Allegaeon are something of a known quantity around here, having been nodded at by Steel, eviscerated by GardensTale, and patched up by Cherd. The Colorado crew helmed by guitarist Greg Burgess have amassed a legion of rabid followers (who are sure to raise a ruckus in the comment section) for their signature style of Gothenburg-meets-tech-death. I’ll admit to being a fan of 2016’s Proponent for Sentience, one of the first reviews I read on this site, but got lost amidst the dense material of Apoptosis and frankly didn’t even give Damnum a shot. Allegaeon’s latest LP, The Ossuary Lens, sees the return of original vocalist Ezra Haynes and a much-welcomed stripped-down runtime, two intriguing changes in my book. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been excited about an Allegaeon release, can The Ossuary Lens be the record to change that?

Allegaeon’s style of melo-tech-death needs little introduction here, but for those of you who haven’t been following the past decade’s worth of drama, I’ll provide the CliffsNotes. Sweeping, scalar guitar riffs courtesy of Burgess and Michael Stancel form the backbone of most tracks, and the dual guitars make for an indulgent offering of solos (“Driftwood,” “Wake Circling Above”). The drums here, while dripping with modern production sheen, are compelling and energetic without being overly technical, a sincere compliment for Jeff Saltzman. Allegaeon have never strayed from highlighting their bass players, and standout moments in “Chaos Theory” and “Carried by Delusion” show Brandon Michael has as much a command of melody as he does of relentless, galloping rhythms. Ezra Haynes, of Elements of the Infinite fame, comes roaring back to life on The Ossuary Lens, employing a gritty death roar alongside commendable clean vocals on “Driftwood” and “Wake Circling Above.” The performances on The Ossuary Lens are everything one would come to expect from a band nearly two decades into their career, and make for a wholly engaging listening experience.

Allegaeon albums tend to have similar issues holding them back, and the band have largely addressed them on The Ossuary Lens. First and foremost is the 45-minute runtime, a nearly 25% reduction in music from their last three records. The renewed focus on editing shines, with tracks that hit fast and get out of the way while still managing to be memorable (“The Swarm,” “Imperial”). This represents the first major improvement in The Ossuary Lens; Allegaeon have not only figured out that less is more, but they’ve also magnified the parts that work. Sing-along melodeath choruses lurk throughout the album (“Driftwood,” “Dies Irae”) but none so impactful as penultimate track “Wake Circling Above.” Clearly the best Insomnium track released this year, Allegaeon’s ode to all things Gothenburg is a monumental testament to what this band can do when they stop doing so much and let the music dictate the song’s course.

The hits don’t stop there. The Ossuary Lens takes a while to really get moving, with the first three tracks treading familiar territory. But then comes “Dies Irae,” a barnburner that incorporates the three-note musical motif for the Dies Irae text of the Requiem Mass, a nice music nerd Easter Egg that only enhances the ripping triplet-infused breakdown sitting in the song’s center. And Burgess’ requisite flamenco guitar, something sorely overused in Proponent for Sentience, is here condensed into the driving groove of “Dark Matter Dynamics,” a powerfully infectious rhythm ripped straight from a Rodrigo y Gabriela record, or the breath-before-the-plunge moments of the darkly harrowing “Carried by Delusion.” Whereas previous Allegaeon records were dense, academic affairs that required shoveling through noise and notes to discern, The Ossuary Lens presents a barebones masterclass on Allegaeon’s modus operandi.

This isn’t to say that The Ossuary Lens is infallible. Early tracks “Chaos Theory” and “Driftwood” are technically proficient, but fail to reach the emotional highs of the rest of their brethren. Final track “Scythe,” while holding some excellent verse grooves, feels underbaked after the astonishing “Wake Circling Above,” and its cropped ending leaves the album on more of a question mark than a statement. And there’s the lingering issue of the DR5 master and production, which, while not as obscene as earlier records, is still crushed and fatiguing. But overall, The Ossuary Lens represents a massively successful repositioning for the Coloradoans, making it one of my favorite spins of the year for its precision, refinement, and memorability. If Allegaeon continue on this trajectory, we may see their best work yet just over the horizon.

Rating: 3.5/5.0

#2025 #30 #35 #Allegaeon #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #Arsis #DeathMetal #FirstFragment #Insomnium #Melodeath #MelodicDeathMetal #MetalBlade #MetalBladeRecords #ProgressiveDeath #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveTechnicalDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Revocation #RodrigoYGabriela #Rush #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheOssuaryLens #VenomPrison #Yes

Buried Realm – The Dormant Darkness Review

By Owlswald

Colorado’s Buried Realm, the technical melodic death metal project of multi-instrumentalist and vocalist Josh Dummer, has built a steady following since 2017’s The Ichor Carcinoma. This is largely because— alongside his role as the primary writer and producer of Buried Realm’s music— Dummer is one hell of a guitarist. Additionally, he enlists a prominent cast of guest musicians for each album, adding another layer of proficiency to his progressive soundscape.1 While Dummer’s talent and networking ability are compelling, 2020’s Embodiment of the Divine received a mixed reception from AMG’s own Twelve. Since then, Dummer has made notable upgrades through the addition of drummer Heikki Saari (Fintroll, ex-Norther) and the outsourcing of post-production duties, resulting in a heavier and more polished sound on Buried Realm’s 2022 self-titled third album. With these refined elements and the promise of further evolution, I was eager to delve into The Dormant Darkness to see what I would find lurking in the shadows.

What I found was a great album. Building upon the foundation of Buried Realm, The Dormant Darkness finds Dummer taking the next step in his power-tinged melodeath assault. The opening barrage of “Bloodline Artifice,” with its relentless blasts, tremolo onslaught, and visceral screams, channels the power of tech-death giants like Allegaeon. At the same time, the album’s overall melodicism is indicative of The Living Infinite-era Soilwork. Guest appearances include the likes of Per Nilsson (Scar Symmetry) and Christopher Amott (ex-Arch Enemy), who fortify tracks like “Human Code” and “Futuristic Hollow Nation” with sweeps, dives, and wails galore. Saari’s intricate rhythms and colorful accents amplify Buried Realm’s dazzling riff craft. Additionally, Dummer’s Laiho-esque rasps intertwine with Bjorn “Speed” Strid’s (Soilwork) roars and Christian Älvestam’s (ex-Scar Symmetry) soaring choruses to add sophistication and depth. With a well-rounded mix that delivers plenty of punch and low-end heft, The Dormant Darkness features a concentrated and layered sound that is rich, heavy, technical, and a ton of fun.

For those who crave virtuosity, Buried Realm will not disappoint. Guitar wizardry is delivered in droves, with memorable solos, melodic leads, and powerful shredding across the record’s eight tracks. Nilsson’s dynamic fretwork at the heart of “Human Code,” Amott’s dive-bomb acrobatics within “Futuristic Hollow Nation,” and Daniel Freyberg’s (ex-Children of Bodom) blazing solo on “A Futile Endeavor” stand out as particularly jaw-dropping moments.2 Dummer and Saari’s merciless grooves— shredding and hammering with precision— strengthen the album’s star-studded guest list, constructing Buried Realm’s tech-heavy compositions. Contrasting Buried Realm’s unyielding virtuosity are Älvestam’s uplifting serenades on songs like “Jaws of the Abyss” and “Futuristic Hollow Nation” which present striking melodies and refreshing hooks that draw me back again and again. Ultimately, while the constellation of guest musicians warrant attention, The Dormant Darkness is filled with highlights that will appeal to a wide audience.

With its intensity and compositional depth, The Dormant Darkness could have easily become overwhelming. Indeed, the songwriting periodically suffers from overly dense passages and abrupt transitions. The disjointed vocal exchange between Dummer and Strid before the chorus in “Human Code,” for example, is jarring, as is the song’s mid-section where a whirlwind of blasts and leads stutters and starts erratically. That said, while occasional missteps somewhat detract from the album’s pacing and flow, they are minor quibbles in a record rife with strong songwriting. Furthermore, Francesco Ferrini’s (Fleshgod Apocalypse) poignant orchestral arrangements on tracks like “Ophidian Dreams” and “Where the Armless Phantoms Glide, Pt. II” provide atmospheric grandeur and emotional depth, mitigating aural fatigue and upholding sonic balance.

Overall, The Dormant Darkness is a blast. The album is the culmination of Buried Realm’s evolution and proves that Dummer’s persistence and dedication have paid off handsomely. It’s full of highlights and genuinely impressive moments, blending technical prowess with memorable melodic hooks, exceptional guest contributions, and compositional maturity. Despite the occasional minor slipup, the album’s technical and charming melodeath personality seizes my attention from the start and maintains its spectral grasp until the record’s final notes fade into the ether. With The Dormant Darkness, Buried Realm has established itself as a formidable force— one that melodeath fans won’t want to miss.

Rating: Great!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: buriedrealm.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/buriedrealm
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

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