#apr26 — Public Fediverse posts

April breezes are blowing across the AMG estates even though the summer heat reigns supreme. With several big-ticket releases and a collection of killer platters from lesser-known acts clogging the April voting sheets, it was a pretty fat month for extreme music. This caused consternation among staffers as loyalties to iconic bands clashed and lengthy histories of excellence were rehashed, compared, and contrasted. In the end, hard decisions were made, office furniture was hurled, and curses were invoked. This is the AMG way. Welcome back to April!

If one band exemplifies death metal majesty, decay, and consistency over 30-plus years, it’s New York’s own Immolation. Since launching their crusade of brutality way back in 1989, the band have become one of the most influential acts in the genre, with a sound that evolves and mutates but is always recognizably Immolation. April brought us the 12th installment in their legacy of ugliness, and Descent [out April 10th from Nuclear Blast (Bandcamp)] is another statement on what death metal should be. Wickedly heavy, technical as hell, and ugly as fook, it’s the kind of album that feels like a tanker full of anvils. It highlights the inventiveness of Immolation even as it revisits past eras of the band’s enormous catalog. As a well-impressed Steel Druhm pointed out, “Immolation remain a rare, altered beast among other repellent horrors, painting their uniquely disturbing soundscapes across history and time.” An equally gobsmacked Kenstrosity added, “This twelfth album, soon upon us, perpetuates that standard and may even prove, with time, to have elevated it once again.” Strong words for the Grand Titans of Death. All hail Immolation.

Runner(s) Up:

At the Gates // The Ghost of a Future Dead [April 24th, 2026 | Century Media | Bandcamp] — It’s very difficult to review an album that you know will be the last for a metal luminary. It’s the end of a life, an era, and a musical companion you’ve traveled with for years, even decades. Such was the dilemma facing Grymm when The Ghost of a Future Dead was released in the aftermath of the tragic passing of legendary vocalist Tomas Lindberg. At the Gates have had plenty of genre-defining moments over their career, and fortunately, what Tomas left us with here can stand proudly among their very best. It’s a vicious, face-melting slab of thrashy melodeath with hooks and fangs aplenty, showcasing the classic At the Gates sound and the caustic, corrosive vocals of a brave and ever-defiant Tomas. As Grymm astutely summarized, ” If this ends up being At The Gates’ swansong, this is a hell of a way to go out, as they dropped another classic on our sorry asses. Awesome job to all those involved. Rest in power, Tompa.” Journey on, metal brother.

Green Carnation // A Dark Poem Part II: Sanguis [April 3rd, 2026 | Season of Mist | Bandcamp] — Successor act of Norway’s In the Woods..., Green Carnation traveled a strange musical path since 2000, passing through death and Gothic metal to eventually arrive at a kind of progressive metal-lite. A Dark Poem Part II: Sanguis finds them continuing their Poem trilogy, offering hard-edged moments alongside plenty of sad, sullen set pieces sure to bring the feelz to the coldest of hearts. Musically, Sanguis explores some older Green Carnation sounds while also pushing their style forward into new spaces, always with quality songcraft at the forefront. There are some genuinely tear-jerking moments here if you like to feel unhappy. As the usually jaded, cynical, and cranky-assed Doc Grier gushed, “For those who need something in these trying times to bolster their spirits or tear them apart (if only for a moment to reset), Sanguis is here for you.” Flower power!

Silaera – An Aberration of the Void Review

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity Every year has one magical moment that I look forward t…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #4.0 #AmericanMetal #AnAberrationoftheVoid #Apr26 #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackMetal #Blackbraid #CosmicPutrefaction #Entertainment #Keres #MareCognitum #MelodicBlackMetal #Noltem #Post-BlackMetal #Post-Metal #review #reviews #SelfReleased #Silaera #Vimur
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/633534/

Silaera – An Aberration of the Void Review

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity Every year has one magical moment that I look forward t…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #4.0 #AmericanMetal #AnAberrationoftheVoid #Apr26 #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackMetal #Blackbraid #CosmicPutrefaction #Entertainment #Keres #MareCognitum #MelodicBlackMetal #Noltem #Post-BlackMetal #Post-Metal #review #reviews #SelfReleased #Silaera #Vimur
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/633534/

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity

Every year has one magical moment that I look forward to with great anticipation: the first metal release that wows me enough to think it’ll be my AotY. It’s an electric sensation, and it just so happens that Alekhines Gun brought first lightning to my world this year, in the form of atmospheric post-black metal band Silaera’s debut record, An Aberration of the Void. The Chicagoan triplet, established in 2019 as a one-man project, rounded out their lineup with a bassist and a second guitarist last year as they recorded their striking debut. Complete with a stunning Burke piece adorning its cover, An Aberration of the Void left Gun and I with our jaws on the floor, so much so that we had no choice but to write this review together. Two different voices, one unified piece.

An Aberration of the Void is an apt moniker for Silaera’s first outing, as the band masterfully wields all of black metal’s forms as if they were intrinsic properties of their very being. At once gorgeous, frightening, triumphant, and evil, An Aberration of the Void recalls the sweeping flares of Mare Cognitum (“A Celestial Grave”), the gentle caress of Noltem (the first quarter of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”), the fervent dissonance of Vimur (“From Entropic Dust”), and the devastating heft of the altogether more vicious Keres (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes, the middle third of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Yet, Silaera’s talent for transitions and assembly manage to craft a vision like visiting an alien planet; you’ve seen planets before, but none like this, and trying to classify its place in the cosmos in relation to other stars is a waste of time. This planet simply is. An Aberration’s production conjures specters of the celestial in similar fashion, transversely aligning full, rich chords, cavernous reverb, and a deep low end against crystalline shimmers and bright midranges. The result is a magical composition of unknown and unknowable beauty churning with the destructive energy of a collapsing star.

If you need a quick peak into the nebula awaiting, point your telescopes to “Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” a masterstroke of composition, creativity, and unpredictability. Launching with a sparkling1 trem-heavy intro, it glides into a long-form riff of cosmic mysticism before variating into a brutally heavy crush, which then spontaneously combusts into a jagged groove attack liable to snap your neck like a toothpick. Tellingly, vocals take a dumbfounding length of time to kick in, but aren’t noticed in their absence until they make their presence known—this serves only to enhance their impact. Moments of contrast like this abound on An Aberration, giving new meaning to the term “beauty and the beast,” but few hit harder than “From Entropic Dust” and epic closer “Fall into Cosmic Sleep” when they offset their impeccable atmospheric allure with deadly swings and terrifying dissonance. Imagine if Cosmic Putrification wrote an album about their feelings and had it produced by Blackbraid, and you’ll almost get it. Silaera takes their songwriting chiaroscuro even further, morphing and mutating phrases with each repetition so radically as to redefine, but never estrange, the tones and textures of the next measure.

That songwriting makes An Aberration of the Void engaging and stimulating from start to finish in spite of its uniformly long-form construction. You’d expect a record where no song falls below six minutes to feature some bloat, but not here. Not a moment wasted, An Aberration arranges compelling choices and elevating decorations around every corner, on both the songwriting and production front. The snare positively crackles and pops when devolving into ferocious blasts, but sibilates and snaps instead during gentler phrases to emphasize mood and atmosphere to great effect (“A Celestial Gaze”). A throaty rasp informs the more intense sections while guttural roars evoke a lurking monstrosity when the moment calls for something more ominous (“Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Riffs pummel and pound with the terrible force of black holes, but delicate melodies ascend beyond the heavens in tandem to uplift the listener as the event horizon guarantees their final destination (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). This interplay of contrast and complement, paired with meticulous detailing, is the unfathomable core of An Aberration of the Void, and the main reason why it universally captivates my attention.

Criticisms are extremely difficult to commit to, not just for me, but also for Gun. Neither one of us felt any held water for longer than a few moments. We nonetheless noted that, for some, Silaera’s disparate references could feel disjointed in the moment,2 with cohesion only coming after focused spins. An Aberration of the Void also does not escape common genre trappings: maximum reverb, more runtime dedicated to slower paces than outright aggression, arpeggios everywhere. But in execution, these small points of contention feel like inseparable parts of the cosmos Silaera created, and what a wondrous cosmos it is.

Rating Consensus: Great!!3
DR: Lost to the Void | Format Reviewed: Bandcamp Stream
Label: Self Released
Websites: silaera.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Silaera
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity

Every year has one magical moment that I look forward to with great anticipation: the first metal release that wows me enough to think it’ll be my AotY. It’s an electric sensation, and it just so happens that Alekhines Gun brought first lightning to my world this year, in the form of atmospheric post-black metal band Silaera’s debut record, An Aberration of the Void. The Chicagoan triplet, established in 2019 as a one-man project, rounded out their lineup with a bassist and a second guitarist last year as they recorded their striking debut. Complete with a stunning Burke piece adorning its cover, An Aberration of the Void left Gun and I with our jaws on the floor, so much so that we had no choice but to write this review together. Two different voices, one unified piece.

An Aberration of the Void is an apt moniker for Silaera’s first outing, as the band masterfully wields all of black metal’s forms as if they were intrinsic properties of their very being. At once gorgeous, frightening, triumphant, and evil, An Aberration of the Void recalls the sweeping flares of Mare Cognitum (“A Celestial Grave”), the gentle caress of Noltem (the first quarter of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”), the fervent dissonance of Vimur (“From Entropic Dust”), and the devastating heft of the altogether more vicious Keres (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes, the middle third of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Yet, Silaera’s talent for transitions and assembly manage to craft a vision like visiting an alien planet; you’ve seen planets before, but none like this, and trying to classify its place in the cosmos in relation to other stars is a waste of time. This planet simply is. An Aberration’s production conjures specters of the celestial in similar fashion, transversely aligning full, rich chords, cavernous reverb, and a deep low end against crystalline shimmers and bright midranges. The result is a magical composition of unknown and unknowable beauty churning with the destructive energy of a collapsing star.

If you need a quick peak into the nebula awaiting, point your telescopes to “Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” a masterstroke of composition, creativity, and unpredictability. Launching with a sparkling1 trem-heavy intro, it glides into a long-form riff of cosmic mysticism before variating into a brutally heavy crush, which then spontaneously combusts into a jagged groove attack liable to snap your neck like a toothpick. Tellingly, vocals take a dumbfounding length of time to kick in, but aren’t noticed in their absence until they make their presence known—this serves only to enhance their impact. Moments of contrast like this abound on An Aberration, giving new meaning to the term “beauty and the beast,” but few hit harder than “From Entropic Dust” and epic closer “Fall into Cosmic Sleep” when they offset their impeccable atmospheric allure with deadly swings and terrifying dissonance. Imagine if Cosmic Putrification wrote an album about their feelings and had it produced by Blackbraid, and you’ll almost get it. Silaera takes their songwriting chiaroscuro even further, morphing and mutating phrases with each repetition so radically as to redefine, but never estrange, the tones and textures of the next measure.

That songwriting makes An Aberration of the Void engaging and stimulating from start to finish in spite of its uniformly long-form construction. You’d expect a record where no song falls below six minutes to feature some bloat, but not here. Not a moment wasted, An Aberration arranges compelling choices and elevating decorations around every corner, on both the songwriting and production front. The snare positively crackles and pops when devolving into ferocious blasts, but sibilates and snaps instead during gentler phrases to emphasize mood and atmosphere to great effect (“A Celestial Gaze”). A throaty rasp informs the more intense sections while guttural roars evoke a lurking monstrosity when the moment calls for something more ominous (“Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Riffs pummel and pound with the terrible force of black holes, but delicate melodies ascend beyond the heavens in tandem to uplift the listener as the event horizon guarantees their final destination (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). This interplay of contrast and complement, paired with meticulous detailing, is the unfathomable core of An Aberration of the Void, and the main reason why it universally captivates my attention.

Criticisms are extremely difficult to commit to, not just for me, but also for Gun. Neither one of us felt any held water for longer than a few moments. We nonetheless noted that, for some, Silaera’s disparate references could feel disjointed in the moment,2 with cohesion only coming after focused spins. An Aberration of the Void also does not escape common genre trappings: maximum reverb, more runtime dedicated to slower paces than outright aggression, arpeggios everywhere. But in execution, these small points of contention feel like inseparable parts of the cosmos Silaera created, and what a wondrous cosmos it is.

Rating Consensus: Great!!3
DR: Lost to the Void | Format Reviewed: Bandcamp Stream
Label: Self Released
Websites: silaera.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Silaera
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity

Every year has one magical moment that I look forward to with great anticipation: the first metal release that wows me enough to think it’ll be my AotY. It’s an electric sensation, and it just so happens that Alekhines Gun brought first lightning to my world this year, in the form of atmospheric post-black metal band Silaera’s debut record, An Aberration of the Void. The Chicagoan triplet, established in 2019 as a one-man project, rounded out their lineup with a bassist and a second guitarist last year as they recorded their striking debut. Complete with a stunning Burke piece adorning its cover, An Aberration of the Void left Gun and I with our jaws on the floor, so much so that we had no choice but to write this review together. Two different voices, one unified piece.

An Aberration of the Void is an apt moniker for Silaera’s first outing, as the band masterfully wields all of black metal’s forms as if they were intrinsic properties of their very being. At once gorgeous, frightening, triumphant, and evil, An Aberration of the Void recalls the sweeping flares of Mare Cognitum (“A Celestial Grave”), the gentle caress of Noltem (the first quarter of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”), the fervent dissonance of Vimur (“From Entropic Dust”), and the devastating heft of the altogether more vicious Keres (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes, the middle third of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Yet, Silaera’s talent for transitions and assembly manage to craft a vision like visiting an alien planet; you’ve seen planets before, but none like this, and trying to classify its place in the cosmos in relation to other stars is a waste of time. This planet simply is. An Aberration’s production conjures specters of the celestial in similar fashion, transversely aligning full, rich chords, cavernous reverb, and a deep low end against crystalline shimmers and bright midranges. The result is a magical composition of unknown and unknowable beauty churning with the destructive energy of a collapsing star.

If you need a quick peak into the nebula awaiting, point your telescopes to “Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” a masterstroke of composition, creativity, and unpredictability. Launching with a sparkling1 trem-heavy intro, it glides into a long-form riff of cosmic mysticism before variating into a brutally heavy crush, which then spontaneously combusts into a jagged groove attack liable to snap your neck like a toothpick. Tellingly, vocals take a dumbfounding length of time to kick in, but aren’t noticed in their absence until they make their presence known—this serves only to enhance their impact. Moments of contrast like this abound on An Aberration, giving new meaning to the term “beauty and the beast,” but few hit harder than “From Entropic Dust” and epic closer “Fall into Cosmic Sleep” when they offset their impeccable atmospheric allure with deadly swings and terrifying dissonance. Imagine if Cosmic Putrification wrote an album about their feelings and had it produced by Blackbraid, and you’ll almost get it. Silaera takes their songwriting chiaroscuro even further, morphing and mutating phrases with each repetition so radically as to redefine, but never estrange, the tones and textures of the next measure.

That songwriting makes An Aberration of the Void engaging and stimulating from start to finish in spite of its uniformly long-form construction. You’d expect a record where no song falls below six minutes to feature some bloat, but not here. Not a moment wasted, An Aberration arranges compelling choices and elevating decorations around every corner, on both the songwriting and production front. The snare positively crackles and pops when devolving into ferocious blasts, but sibilates and snaps instead during gentler phrases to emphasize mood and atmosphere to great effect (“A Celestial Gaze”). A throaty rasp informs the more intense sections while guttural roars evoke a lurking monstrosity when the moment calls for something more ominous (“Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Riffs pummel and pound with the terrible force of black holes, but delicate melodies ascend beyond the heavens in tandem to uplift the listener as the event horizon guarantees their final destination (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). This interplay of contrast and complement, paired with meticulous detailing, is the unfathomable core of An Aberration of the Void, and the main reason why it universally captivates my attention.

Criticisms are extremely difficult to commit to, not just for me, but also for Gun. Neither one of us felt any held water for longer than a few moments. We nonetheless noted that, for some, Silaera’s disparate references could feel disjointed in the moment,2 with cohesion only coming after focused spins. An Aberration of the Void also does not escape common genre trappings: maximum reverb, more runtime dedicated to slower paces than outright aggression, arpeggios everywhere. But in execution, these small points of contention feel like inseparable parts of the cosmos Silaera created, and what a wondrous cosmos it is.

Rating Consensus: Great!!3
DR: Lost to the Void | Format Reviewed: Bandcamp Stream
Label: Self Released
Websites: silaera.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Silaera
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity

Every year has one magical moment that I look forward to with great anticipation: the first metal release that wows me enough to think it’ll be my AotY. It’s an electric sensation, and it just so happens that Alekhines Gun brought first lightning to my world this year, in the form of atmospheric post-black metal band Silaera’s debut record, An Aberration of the Void. The Chicagoan triplet, established in 2019 as a one-man project, rounded out their lineup with a bassist and a second guitarist last year as they recorded their striking debut. Complete with a stunning Burke piece adorning its cover, An Aberration of the Void left Gun and I with our jaws on the floor, so much so that we had no choice but to write this review together. Two different voices, one unified piece.

An Aberration of the Void is an apt moniker for Silaera’s first outing, as the band masterfully wields all of black metal’s forms as if they were intrinsic properties of their very being. At once gorgeous, frightening, triumphant, and evil, An Aberration of the Void recalls the sweeping flares of Mare Cognitum (“A Celestial Grave”), the gentle caress of Noltem (the first quarter of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”), the fervent dissonance of Vimur (“From Entropic Dust”), and the devastating heft of the altogether more vicious Keres (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes, the middle third of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Yet, Silaera’s talent for transitions and assembly manage to craft a vision like visiting an alien planet; you’ve seen planets before, but none like this, and trying to classify its place in the cosmos in relation to other stars is a waste of time. This planet simply is. An Aberration’s production conjures specters of the celestial in similar fashion, transversely aligning full, rich chords, cavernous reverb, and a deep low end against crystalline shimmers and bright midranges. The result is a magical composition of unknown and unknowable beauty churning with the destructive energy of a collapsing star.

If you need a quick peak into the nebula awaiting, point your telescopes to “Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” a masterstroke of composition, creativity, and unpredictability. Launching with a sparkling1 trem-heavy intro, it glides into a long-form riff of cosmic mysticism before variating into a brutally heavy crush, which then spontaneously combusts into a jagged groove attack liable to snap your neck like a toothpick. Tellingly, vocals take a dumbfounding length of time to kick in, but aren’t noticed in their absence until they make their presence known—this serves only to enhance their impact. Moments of contrast like this abound on An Aberration, giving new meaning to the term “beauty and the beast,” but few hit harder than “From Entropic Dust” and epic closer “Fall into Cosmic Sleep” when they offset their impeccable atmospheric allure with deadly swings and terrifying dissonance. Imagine if Cosmic Putrification wrote an album about their feelings and had it produced by Blackbraid, and you’ll almost get it. Silaera takes their songwriting chiaroscuro even further, morphing and mutating phrases with each repetition so radically as to redefine, but never estrange, the tones and textures of the next measure.

That songwriting makes An Aberration of the Void engaging and stimulating from start to finish in spite of its uniformly long-form construction. You’d expect a record where no song falls below six minutes to feature some bloat, but not here. Not a moment wasted, An Aberration arranges compelling choices and elevating decorations around every corner, on both the songwriting and production front. The snare positively crackles and pops when devolving into ferocious blasts, but sibilates and snaps instead during gentler phrases to emphasize mood and atmosphere to great effect (“A Celestial Gaze”). A throaty rasp informs the more intense sections while guttural roars evoke a lurking monstrosity when the moment calls for something more ominous (“Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Riffs pummel and pound with the terrible force of black holes, but delicate melodies ascend beyond the heavens in tandem to uplift the listener as the event horizon guarantees their final destination (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). This interplay of contrast and complement, paired with meticulous detailing, is the unfathomable core of An Aberration of the Void, and the main reason why it universally captivates my attention.

Criticisms are extremely difficult to commit to, not just for me, but also for Gun. Neither one of us felt any held water for longer than a few moments. We nonetheless noted that, for some, Silaera’s disparate references could feel disjointed in the moment,2 with cohesion only coming after focused spins. An Aberration of the Void also does not escape common genre trappings: maximum reverb, more runtime dedicated to slower paces than outright aggression, arpeggios everywhere. But in execution, these small points of contention feel like inseparable parts of the cosmos Silaera created, and what a wondrous cosmos it is.

Rating Consensus: Great!!3
DR: Lost to the Void | Format Reviewed: Bandcamp Stream
Label: Self Released
Websites: silaera.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Silaera
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity

Every year has one magical moment that I look forward to with great anticipation: the first metal release that wows me enough to think it’ll be my AotY. It’s an electric sensation, and it just so happens that Alekhines Gun brought first lightning to my world this year, in the form of atmospheric post-black metal band Silaera’s debut record, An Aberration of the Void. The Chicagoan triplet, established in 2019 as a one-man project, rounded out their lineup with a bassist and a second guitarist last year as they recorded their striking debut. Complete with a stunning Burke piece adorning its cover, An Aberration of the Void left Gun and I with our jaws on the floor, so much so that we had no choice but to write this review together. Two different voices, one unified piece.

An Aberration of the Void is an apt moniker for Silaera’s first outing, as the band masterfully wields all of black metal’s forms as if they were intrinsic properties of their very being. At once gorgeous, frightening, triumphant, and evil, An Aberration of the Void recalls the sweeping flares of Mare Cognitum (“A Celestial Grave”), the gentle caress of Noltem (the first quarter of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”), the fervent dissonance of Vimur (“From Entropic Dust”), and the devastating heft of the altogether more vicious Keres (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes, the middle third of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Yet, Silaera’s talent for transitions and assembly manage to craft a vision like visiting an alien planet; you’ve seen planets before, but none like this, and trying to classify its place in the cosmos in relation to other stars is a waste of time. This planet simply is. An Aberration’s production conjures specters of the celestial in similar fashion, transversely aligning full, rich chords, cavernous reverb, and a deep low end against crystalline shimmers and bright midranges. The result is a magical composition of unknown and unknowable beauty churning with the destructive energy of a collapsing star.

If you need a quick peak into the nebula awaiting, point your telescopes to “Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” a masterstroke of composition, creativity, and unpredictability. Launching with a sparkling1 trem-heavy intro, it glides into a long-form riff of cosmic mysticism before variating into a brutally heavy crush, which then spontaneously combusts into a jagged groove attack liable to snap your neck like a toothpick. Tellingly, vocals take a dumbfounding length of time to kick in, but aren’t noticed in their absence until they make their presence known—this serves only to enhance their impact. Moments of contrast like this abound on An Aberration, giving new meaning to the term “beauty and the beast,” but few hit harder than “From Entropic Dust” and epic closer “Fall into Cosmic Sleep” when they offset their impeccable atmospheric allure with deadly swings and terrifying dissonance. Imagine if Cosmic Putrification wrote an album about their feelings and had it produced by Blackbraid, and you’ll almost get it. Silaera takes their songwriting chiaroscuro even further, morphing and mutating phrases with each repetition so radically as to redefine, but never estrange, the tones and textures of the next measure.

That songwriting makes An Aberration of the Void engaging and stimulating from start to finish in spite of its uniformly long-form construction. You’d expect a record where no song falls below six minutes to feature some bloat, but not here. Not a moment wasted, An Aberration arranges compelling choices and elevating decorations around every corner, on both the songwriting and production front. The snare positively crackles and pops when devolving into ferocious blasts, but sibilates and snaps instead during gentler phrases to emphasize mood and atmosphere to great effect (“A Celestial Gaze”). A throaty rasp informs the more intense sections while guttural roars evoke a lurking monstrosity when the moment calls for something more ominous (“Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Riffs pummel and pound with the terrible force of black holes, but delicate melodies ascend beyond the heavens in tandem to uplift the listener as the event horizon guarantees their final destination (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). This interplay of contrast and complement, paired with meticulous detailing, is the unfathomable core of An Aberration of the Void, and the main reason why it universally captivates my attention.

Criticisms are extremely difficult to commit to, not just for me, but also for Gun. Neither one of us felt any held water for longer than a few moments. We nonetheless noted that, for some, Silaera’s disparate references could feel disjointed in the moment,2 with cohesion only coming after focused spins. An Aberration of the Void also does not escape common genre trappings: maximum reverb, more runtime dedicated to slower paces than outright aggression, arpeggios everywhere. But in execution, these small points of contention feel like inseparable parts of the cosmos Silaera created, and what a wondrous cosmos it is.

Rating Consensus: Great!!3
DR: Lost to the Void | Format Reviewed: Bandcamp Stream
Label: Self Released
Websites: silaera.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Silaera
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

It shouldn’t be surprising, but we don’t get a ton of punk or hardcore submissions here at Angry Metal Guy. We’re not Angsty Punk Bois, after all. I, however, particularly enjoy the intersections between punk and metal—sludge, grind, crust, crossover, powerviolence, etc. Metal’s straightforward aggression and punk’s vitriolic outrage complement each other well and scratch a specific itch. So when I saw Thorgrim’s debut LP, Puca, floating in the promo pit, I was sold on the Wisconsin trio’s promise of a heady mix of doom, punk, and a dash of black metal. Something like sludge but a skosh less acerbic? And maybe a little cold? Hopes were high, but did Thorgrim deliver?

No. Unequivocally, no. You see, Thorgrim boasts a live, one-take-only recording and production, laeving all mistakes and scrapes and buises on the record as some rebelilous statenemt against the overprodction of moder n musi.c Opener “Children of Doom” starts with a symbol hit that I can onl assume was am istake, and a massive skip around the 3:30 mark undersores how unedited and haphazard this albu is. “Voyage to Saturn” strats in the midle of a note ,and “Death Angel” starts with off-beat dums and just cuts out at the ennd with no warning or considreation for flwo. nearly every tiem Thorgrimshifts from on eriff to another, the band dissembles, taking a couple meaesure to get back in time with ehachother (“Darkest Days,” “Bride of Frankenstein”1). Now, do you see how this paragraph is littered with typos? Do you see how shitty it looks? Like I put no effort into it? That’s exactly what listening to this album is like.2

Even ignoring the insultingly lazy recording style Thorgrim opted for, Puca is still impressively bad. Thorgrim seem to be diehard fans of repetition, as there are precious few riffs to discuss (much less remember) here. Album long player “Voyage to Saturn” features exactly two (2) riffs over its ten-minute runtime, and I couldn’t decide which was more boring. “Darkest Days” is brutally repetitive as well, and ultimately sounds like a parody of heavy metal music you might hear on a TV sitcom. The vocals on “Let’s Go” are so buried in the mix that I’m not entirely convinced they’re there, but this may be a boon for Thorgrim, as they sound more like gargling spit or choking on vomit than singing or screaming. The acoustic “Dark Cabin” apes Nirvana’s “About a Girl” so blatantly it might only be “legally distinct” by one note, while sporting some of the worst lyrical syncopation I have ever heard. Penultimate track “Bride of Frankenstein” reminds me of the Fire Temple in The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, but bad. It’s ambient junk and random drums that don’t adhere to any kind of time signature or rhythm. When Puca mercifully ends, it’s with an inexplicable folk track that I’m fairly certain would be offensive to any actual neo/folk band.3

What’s most frustrating is that Puca could have been decent. “The Movies” is a punky upbeat track that smells like The Dogs, and I hear potential. With literally any amount of effort or care or refinement or fucks given, Thorgrim could have delivered at least one good track. Instead, it’s one of nine dumpster fires. Even outside of concept albums, there’s normally a unifying concept woven through a release, but I can’t find any such thing here, unless it’s the uniformly atrocious production value, which, coincidentally, is the only dash of black metal I found on Puca. It’s like they recorded in a concrete basement on a Fisher Price karaoke machine from 30 years ago.

Our internal scoring guide describes the score below as suggesting the band should look for another line of work. Puca is that bad. I’m honestly not sure what Thorgrim wanted to accomplish here. This album feels like a bad joke. Even if the music was good—which it’s not—and the production wasn’t worse than the first recording ever from 1860—which it is—the one-take-only presentation is not only lazy, it’s insulting. I get the intent that music today is overproduced and too shiny and clean and sterile, yeah, sure, whatever, but there are ways to fight that without leaving fucking mistakes on your album. A studio release should be a practiced, ideal version of each track, not whatever your hungover ass manages to puke out on recording day.

Rating: 0.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Octopus Rising4 | Argonauta Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Straddling the line between power metal and thrash, Anubis returns two years removed from their debut to unveil full-length follow-up Anthromorphicide. According to the promo materials,1 this translates to ‘the death of the human form,’ with Anubis mastermind Devin Reiche (Hatchet) clarifying that Anthromorphicide captures a band in flux as they ‘evolve in real time.’ Anubis formed back in 2018, and between then and now, they’ve released six EPs as well as 2024 LP Dark Paradise. The band maintains a steady course with Anthromorphicide, yet power thrash is niche enough that newer bands struggle to escape comparisons to its cornerstones (namely, Iced Earth). Given Anubis’ claim of continuously maturing their sound, how far do they extend past the limits imposed by themselves and the genre?

Anthromorphicide brims with influences and inspirations, yet Anubis transcends mere mimicry. Instead, they call upon dozens of bands to inform a love letter to the fusion of power and thrash. Most immediately, Anubis’ theatrics remind me of Helloween, with Reiche’s vocals sidling comfortably between Kiske and Mystic Prophecy’s R.D. Liapakis. Musically, Anthromorphicide traverses a varied landscape, covering the likes of Kreator’s rabid power thrash attack (“Anthromorphicide,” “Reptile Eyes”), Persuader’s sprightly riffing (“Nuclear Dawn”), and DragonForce’s knack for hooky choruses and histrionics (“Celestial,” “Battalion”). And going back to Iced Earth, “Ancient at Birth” could slot nicely into one of the Something Wicked installments. Even with all these reference points, though, Anubis manages to craft an engaging affair that injects the familiar into an original and diverse collection of songs.

Considering the lineup turbulence Anubis has weathered, Anthromorphicide evinces a natural progression. Each of their releases combines power metal’s anthemic songwriting with thrash’s chugs and aggressive riffing, and while Anthromorphicide is no different, it feels more vibrant and deliberate. Fun abounds when songs strong-arm listeners into singing along, such as the “Moonchild”like opening to “Ancient at Birth” or the candy-coated, synth-driven bop “My Favorite Cage,” elevated by Zhariah’s guest vocals. Anthromorphicide isn’t chintzy, singalong cheese, though, and Anubis adds plenty of heart and grit into the formula. “Celestial” conjures Follow the Blind-era Blind Guardian with kinetic drumming and furious riffing, while longtime bassist Will Buckley buffets with his buttery bottom-end. “The Arcanist” in particular highlights Buckley’s fluid grooves, recalling D.D. Verni’s (Overkill) in-your-face aesthetic. Through it all, Ulises Hernandez (Judicator) flits and wails in tandem with returning guitarist Justin Escamilla, ensuring a dual-axe flurry that rarely misses.

Anubis shimmers during Anthromorphicide’s best moments, yet small snags hold it back. The first and final thirds of the album bristle with energy and deft execution, but the middle third sags compared to the bookends. The opening triad purrs with engrossing riffs and memorable melodies, but “The Fire Inside” slows proceedings with a seven-minute ballad that stalls Anthromorphicide’s momentum. Slow, contemplative numbers have their place, but just because it’s slow doesn’t mean it should be long. Paces accelerate from there, but it’s not until “My Favorite Cage” that I’m properly back in the groove. And that’s not to suggest that the intervening songs aren’t good, mind—just that they lack the show-stopping moments needed to reignite the flames left smoldering after “The Arcanist.” On the production front, Anthromorphicide sounds a bit thin and glossy. The bass drum and toms, contributed by David Velez, work well, but the cymbals get buried in the mix while the snare sounds flat and lifeless. Anubis commits no glaring sins, but the sum total of the minor gripes inhibits the album’s staying power.

A single listen through Anthromorphicide exposes Anubis’ sturdy songwriting and technical chops, and my appreciation grows with each spin. Anthromorphicide presents a crisp forty-two minutes of power thrash drama that’s easy to get lost within, and despite its flaws, rewards return visits. Although Anubis weaves scads of references together, each track possesses a core identity, and while some are more memorable than others, it gives Anubis a secure foundation to build upon. If they can preserve what works, with a few small tweaks, Anubis could tip the scales and unload an undeniable power thrash triumph with their next outing.

Rating: Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: M-Theory Audio
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Aliens offer to take you away and give you a perfect—albeit short—life: do you say yes? According to Italian cosmic prog metal band Vanderlust, many of you would. “So, a bunch of people everywhere on Earth gave themselves” to the Coelacanths for that same offer, so opens The Human Farm. Several generations later, a human uprising leads to an escape from slavery and the discovery that the Coelacanths were all along harvesting Humans for their emotions. This isn’t meant to be funny. Vanderlust were deadset on telling a compelling sci-fi adventure in The Human Farm, enlisting guest keyboardist Francesco Londino (S91) and vocalist Martina Barreca (Mass Excess) to play the role of the Coelacanths. But did Vanderlust give us a sci-fi adventure for the ages with The Human Farm?

The gooey earnestness with which Vanderlust spill their adventure on The Human Farm is often matched by skill and musical vision. Vanderlust tear through speed-demonic numbers like “Viral Escape” or “Golden Shackles” with acerbically hooky, Vektor-gone-power-metal riffage while creating respite between the narrative beats with moody clean guitars and skittering drums on “The Turning Point” and “Connection Failed.” Guitarist Francesco Romeggini solos like mad on The Human Farm, shredding Megadethly over Blind Guardian riffs on the almost-instrumental “From the Cave – Fuga” and imbuing “Drive” with a gravitas and refinement. Bassist David Cantina and drummer Giacomo Mezzetti hold down Vanderlust’s rhythms, both driving (“Reborn…Again”) and groovy (“Humanity 3.0 – The New Canaan”) and shine on the “Battlefield”‘s bass solo and underlying fills. Ricca Morello’s vocals can get a bit mush-mouthed in the softer moments, but his power metal-inclined range and delivery crush the big moments, and Barreca’s death growls hit consistently, recalling Ophelion’s vocal duo on 2025’s The Jaunt. The Human Farm isn’t groundbreaking conceptually, but Vanderlust have the chops to tell their tale.

The Human Farm thrives in its biggest moments. Morello sounds his best when he goes all in, like on the Blind Guardian-coded power bonanza “Battlefield”1 and emotionally charged bookends “Humanity 2.0 – The Human Farm” and “Humanity 3.0 – The New Canaan.” Barreca’s growls add tons of punch to Vanderlust’s sound. When she trades lines with the choir on “Connection Failed” or clean sings on “Reborn…Again” and brings Meat Loaf melodrama to Dream Theater balladry, it feels so right. However, The Human Farm lulls when Vanderlust take the pedal off the metal. Momentum from “Golden Shackles” dissipates in the slow-burning of “The Turning Point” and doesn’t return until halfway through “Connection Failed,” and the barn-burning energy of “Viral Escape” is utterly deflated by the narrative interlude “…Find Them!”. However, Vanderlust are at any given time never too far off from another soaring crescendo, making The Human Farm an exciting listen, if not consistently so.

Vanderlust’s conceptual ambitions ultimately hinder The Human Farm, I feel. Vanderlust frequently dumb down musical ideas to allow narration more sonic space. This issue is exacerbated by the uniformly bad acting performances across The Human Farm, which resembles those 90s PC games where they just threw some interns into the booth. But even if the line reads were good, interjected into songs like “From the Cave – Fuga” and “Connection Failed,” they come off as a tacked-on concession to the story rather than an integral part of the music, coming off as distracting or even detrimental to the music. Vanderlust can do interesting things musically to tell their story, like having Barreca clean sing in “Reborn…Again” after the Coelacanths are defeated, reflecting them at their most vulnerable, or reworking the “Humanity 2.0…” motif into the end of “Humanity 3.0…,” where humankind has escaped captivity but find new challenges in freedom and lead some to question their revolution altogether.2 But for the most part, the way Vanderlust tell the story of The Human Farm detracts from what they do well: thrashy prog-power anthems.

If Vanderlust could hone their storytelling as well as their songwriting on The Human Farm, we’d have a great record on our hands. As is, there are too many conflicting elements in The Human Farm for more than a lukewarm recommendation, though there are fantastic songs throughout. Fans of prog-power will find things to like here, and Vanderlust is a band to keep an eye on, and I certainly will try to catch their third album should they make one. I’m not sure if Vanderlust have a Terminal Redux or Access All Worlds in them, but I wouldn’t put it past them either.



Rating: Mixed
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: V0 VBR mp3
Label: Rockshots Records
Websites: facebook.com/vanderlustofficial | soundcloud.com/vanderlust-music
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

It’s been some time since Splendidula has visited these pages. The fearsome Carcharodon reviewed their sophomore record, Post Mortem, as a wee n00b long ago in 2018, wherein he saw glimmers of potential in the gothic doom metal. He didn’t cover 2021’s Somnus for unknown reasons, though I think he might have been pleased with the heavier post-metal inclinations that permeated the record. The years since then have been rough for this Belgian group, marred by the passing of several loved ones, including their bassist Peter Chromiak. Absentia emerges in the wake of these tragedies as a means to both express and confront this debilitating heartache and loss.

Chromiak’s absence is felt in the very essence of Absentia. Although drummer Joachim Taminau took up the bassist role, the burly bass presence from the prior two records is all but gone. Splendidula kept much of their gothic doom but, fittingly, chose to fill the void with another of metal’s most expressive subgenres—DSBM. Whereas Kristien Cools previously stuck to clean vocals (for the most part), she now becomes both beauty and beast, dividing her time between sorrowful singing and shrieking. She also leans on a couple of notable guest vocalists. Tim Yatras (Austere) adds blackened snarls and backing cleans to “Absentia,” followed by Aaron Stainthorpe (ex-My Dying Bride, High Parasite), who contributes his rumbling growls and velvety baritone to “Echoes of Quiet Remain.” These guest selections neatly encapsulate the two different aspects of Absentia.

Absentia by Splendidula

While much music (and art in general) is born from a place of grief, Absentia is practically synonymous with it. Underneath the stoic exterior lurks a raw torment that flares up whenever and however it wants. For example, “Donkerte” begins with despondent singing, but as the verse progresses, Cools’s voice escalates until finally a primal scream spills out. Later, the double-tracked cleans and screams give the impression of one putting on a brave face as anguish roils inside. When her voice dips into the lower ranges (particularly in “Absentia” and “Let It Come to an End”), it takes on a sort of nasally drawl which augments the mournful atmosphere, though this likely won’t appeal to everyone. Also like grief, sections of certain songs tend to linger for longer than one might like (“Echoes of Quiet Remain,” “Kilte,” “Absentia”).

Absentia musically conveys the importance of a healthy support system during times of grief. Though much hinges on Cools’s vocal performances, the other two members of Splendidula help to sustain her in subtle but important ways. During “Dalkuldar,” a forlorn respite from the turmoil, the snare rhythms and bass drum beats are akin to a bolstering drumline. The tempestuous percussion also heightens the sense of desperation in “Kilte.” Closing track “Let It Come to an End” flips the script, letting Cools take a backseat and bringing guitarist Guy Van Campenhout’s growls to the forefront, perhaps emblematic of leaning on loved ones during times of crisis.

In terms of emotional devastation, Absentia is as potent a record as you’re likely to find. Kristien Cools keeps improving with each release, and the compositions complement her increasingly diverse vocal styles well. The deeply personal nature of Splendidula’s work of art is both strength and weakness. The intense and authentic expression of grief is harrowingly beautiful, but in a way that seems impossible for an outsider to fully appreciate. Like attending a funeral for someone you didn’t know, it’s easy to empathize with those in mourning but difficult to feel the same deep personal connection. That said, the next time grief comes for me personally, I may be very grateful that I became acquainted with Absentia.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: splendidula.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Splendidula
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

After no less than three albums’ worth of glowing praise from my great predecessor Kronos, it’s safe to say that a new Archspire is a big deal in the hall.1 One blistering offering after another has cemented these lads as among the forerunners of tech-death, pushing BPM and bass-string structural integrity in equal measure. But the human body, alas, has limits, and with previous release Bleed the Future already pushing the speedometer well into the red, one could be forgiven for invoking the oldest of clichés: Where do they go from here? There’s only so much speed, so much scale wankery to be derived from mere flesh and bone. With a bit of a self-referential title in Too Fast to Die, Archspire have made their mission statement clear and concise; will their meteoric rise continue to light up the sky, or will their first independent release see them crash and burn?

Archspire have officially been around long enough to say “Expect the expected.” Too Fast to Die continues the band’s whirlwind musical trajectory, with an emphasis on scorching tempos and arpeggios delivered at string-withering pace. New drummer Spence Moore (formerly of Inferi, among others) plays like the lives of his family depend on it, etching his identity into the music with a smorgasbord of snare fills and delightful rhythmic shifts which somehow manage to maintain a blasting pace without ever smearing together into one double-bass-filled haze. Vocalist Oliver Aleron continues to sound pulled from an alternate universe where Atilla doesn’t suck,2 spitting syllable-heavy diatribes with gleeful abandon and an s-tier talent for phrasing which lets him compliment the intensity rather than overwhelm it. Enough breathing room is given to the bass, letting Jared Smith fill in the cracks with sweeps that rumble and clang under the chords with vibrancy and potent kinetic energy (“Red Goliath”) before disappearing back under the assault. Everything is excellently executed, engaging, and familiar.

Too Fast to Die by Archspire

And yet, there is a clear rumbling of growth and evolution in the Archspire camp. Rather than openly go out of their way to crank all the knobs from 11 to 12, Too Fast to Die puts heavy stock on pathos-riddled melody, with a heavier leaning on atmospheric theatrics and amphitheater-ready harmonies which don’t seek to overwhelm as much as invigorate and inspire. Album highlight “Carrion Ladder” features a midsection with a pair of leads so relatively simple a fledgling guitar student could learn to play them, yet thanks to the band’s compositional mastery, this simplicity isn’t an anticlimactic letdown as much as a genuine moment of appreciable, raw beauty, not to mention it features one of Oliver’s catchiest vocal parts. Such moments are littered throughout the album, with the borderline emotional chug section of “Limb of Leviticus” transitioning into the band’s traditional plucked interludes with melancholy rather than neo-classical sheen. Archspire’s interludes in older albums would have sounded just as appropriate if played by harpsichord as much as guitar, but Too Fast to Die eschews just a touch of that dual identity to place a heavier focus on thematic coherence with massive dividends.

Nevertheless, this is still a death metal record, and any gushing over emotive power and atmospheric bombast shouldn’t frighten away fans. “Liminal Cypher” features an absolutely devastating slamming section, and “Deadbolt the Backward” briefly dispenses with the atmospheres and opts for sudden shifts of waltz time signatures and straightforward brutality akin to Deeds of Flesh covering an Origin song. The most tendinitis-inducing of leads kick down your front door in “Anomalous Descent” only to suddenly shift identities and flirt with the briefest of hardcore stylings while putting an exclamation point on the proceedings with honest-to-goodness gang vocals. Somehow, this works. While Archspire haven’t quite gone prog on us with clean vocals and a litany of guest instruments (thank God), it’s delightful to see them stretching their artistic wings in so many directions and skillsets, despite promotional material perhaps pitching them as a one-trick pony of speed.

I haven’t been as high on Archspire as some of my colleagues. I enjoyed them, but felt such a style could only be mined so much. Too Fast to Die is Archspire commanding me to take those opinions and violate myself with them, track after track after track. This album sees the band embracing their not-so-newfound star status and offering an experience that is riddled with crowd-engaging moments, meticulously engineered pit fodder, and leads of such beauty that you could sing them in the shower, without sacrificing an ounce of the Africanized-bees-on-red-bull songwriting backbone. “Where do they go from here?” I wondered? Well, the answer is “bigger and better”, and if we are entering a new era of grandiosity over raw technique, I’m so here for it. You should be, too.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: Yet another stream, come on, guys
Label: Self-release
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026