#apr25 — Public Fediverse posts

Cave Sermon – Fragile Wings Review

By Thus Spoke

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

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

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

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

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

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

Show 3 footnotes

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

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

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

Epica – Aspiral Review

By Kenstrosity

Since their founding in 2002, Epica garnered my everlasting adoration as my absolute favorite symphonic metal band, followed by other household names like Nightwish and After Forever. However, unlike the overwhelming majority of their ilk, Epica’s music bares sharper teeth, maintains a stronger connection to the greater pantheon of metal and its more extreme fringes, and remains to this day the most consistent in quality album to album. Few symphonic bands celebrating over 20 years of uninterrupted activity exhibit these characteristics. Consequently, my anticipation for Aspiral soars in my trust that Epica could never let me down, grounded by a great anxiety that one day, they just might.

The sigh of relief I let out after my first spin of Aspiral could be heard around the world. Brimming with drama, loaded with hooks, and laser-focused on delivering passionate, energetic songs, Epica’s ninth opus sees every member of this remarkably stable1 Dutch sextet operating in rare form. Running for bang-on one hour, Aspiral follows the classic Epica blueprint: epic, opulent symphonic metal informed by prog and power, and grazed across the cheek by death’s bony phalanges. However, new accoutrements and novel structures showcase a group exploring the boundaries of their sound with a gentle growth indicative of a collective eager to play and learn. While this never leaves any of these 11 songs unrecognizable as an Epica piece by any means, these admittedly light risks allow Aspiral to shine as a late career highlight.

Aspiral, first and foremost, is a triumph of performance in music. As the world already knows, lead siren Simone Simons is a powerhouse, her voice only getting better with time (“Obsidian Heart,” “Apparition,” “The Grand Saga of Existence—A New Age Dawns Part IX”). However, a delightful surprise, Mark Jansen’s immediately recognizable growl and scream rips across the record with a palpable presence and rabid tone (“Metanoia—A New Age Dawns Part XIII,” “Eye of the Storm,” “The Grand Saga of Existence”). Ariën van Weesenbeek’s incredible drumming steals the show all over the place, too, whether in the service of creating additional interest inside breakdowns and riffs (“Arcana”); by driving transitions smoothly between faster freakouts and slower spells (“T.I.M.E.,” “Apparition”); or when manifesting a groovy beat that all but guarantees remembrance (“Obsidian Heart,” “Fight to Survive—The Overview Effect,” “Apparition”). Thankfully, Mark Jansen’s and Isaac Delahaye’s axework keeps up, injecting oodles of fun leads and riffs (“Cross the Divide,” “Darkness Dies in Light—A New Age Dawns Part VII”) and quite a number of killer solos (“Apparition,” “Eye of the Storm”). Even Rob van der Loo’s bass guitar gets to shine a bit more, too, though he’s still a bit difficult to spot sometimes—a clear point of improvement for future records. And of course, Coen Janssen’s orchestrations need no introduction, but his gorgeous choirs in particular make a huge impression this time around (“T.I.M.E.”).

Of course, all of those performances would mean nothing without great songs in which to showcase them. Thankfully, Aspiral is loaded with pieces that live rent-free in my head. Hits like “Cross the Divide,” “Arcana,” the VOLA-esque “Obsidian Heart,” “Apparition,” the energetic “Eye of the Storm,” and beautiful penultimate epic “The Grand Saga of Existence” compete viciously for top spot as the album progresses—to the point that I always feel I’m giving the wrong answer when I call any one of them my favorite. Moreover, despite Aspiral’s adventurous and exuberant spirit, the whole feels cohesive, well-conceived, and smartly arranged. Even instrumental moments that threaten to derail my attention, like the initially questionable breakdowns in “Arcana” and “Fight to Survive,” get scooped right up by Mark’s and Isaac’s clever leads, Ariën’s kit wizardry, and Coen’s uplifting orchestrations. This, in turn, creates a dynamic experience that evokes a range of actions and reactions, logical progressions of story, and thoughtful decorations which make repeat spins valuable to invested listeners.

There’s so much more I can say about Aspiral, but as I continue to overwrite, I want to leave with a couple of notes. Firstly, while it occupies an ideal placement in the tracklist, delicate closer “Aspiral” might be the one song that meanders too long, creating a spot of bloat at the tail end. Secondly, I was hoping to hear more of the extremity that Epica unexpectedly unleashed on “Human Devastation” from their The Alchemy Project EP. I recognize that it was a one-off collaboration, but I do hear little hints of its beastly spirit in places here, and I crave more of it now that I know that Epica are willing to engage with it. Finally, Aspiral, flaws and all, made it impossible for me to go back to previous records as a point of comparison, because its pull is just too strong. Every impulse to pick up something else instead resulted in withdrawals, followed by yet another ravenous draught of Aspiral.2 If that’s not the making of a Great record, I don’t know what is.

Rating: Great!
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream [Stop This!]
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: epica.nl | facebook.com/epica
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

Show 2 footnotes

1. They’ve kept the same lineup since 2012! ↩
2. And this promo was a shitty stream! ↩

#2025 #40 #AfterForever #Apr25 #Aspiral #DutchMetal #Epica #Nightwish #NuclearBlast #PowerMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SymphonicMetal #VOLA

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