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Lord of the Lost – Opvs Noir Vol. 3 Review

With 33 songs and over two hours of music, Lord of the Lost has written an ambitious trilogy,…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2.5 #2026 #Apr26 #CatsinSpace #DuranDuran #Entertainment #GermanMetal #GothicMetal #KissinDynamite #LordoftheLost #NapalmRecords #OpvsNoirVol.3 #PopMetal #Rammstein #review #reviews #SaltatioMortis #SymphonicMetal #Wednesday13 #Xandria
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/585780/

Lord of the Lost – Opvs Noir Vol. 3 Review

With 33 songs and over two hours of music, Lord of the Lost has written an ambitious trilogy,…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2.5 #2026 #Apr26 #CatsinSpace #DuranDuran #Entertainment #GermanMetal #GothicMetal #KissinDynamite #LordoftheLost #NapalmRecords #OpvsNoirVol.3 #PopMetal #Rammstein #review #reviews #SaltatioMortis #SymphonicMetal #Wednesday13 #Xandria
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/585780/

https://www.europesays.com/uk/895725/ Lord of the Lost – Opvs Noir Vol. 3 Review #25 #2026 #Apr26 #CatsInSpace #DuranDuran #Entertainment #GermanMetal #GothicMetal #KissinDynamite #LordOfTheLost #music #NapalmRecords #OpvsNoirVol3 #PopMetal #Rammstein #Review #Reviews #SaltatioMortis #SymphonicMetal #UK #UnitedKingdom #Wednesday13 #Xandria

With 33 songs and over two hours of music, Lord of the Lost has written an ambitious trilogy, mercifully spread across eight months rather than released all at once. On Opvs Noir, the band leans into the darker, more gothic aspects of their pop-infused metal, bringing plenty of guest collaborators aboard to keep things spicy. The first two volumes of this opvs have proven a success, with creative instrumentation and an affecting performance from frontman Chris Harms. The question is whether Lord of the Lost can keep up the momentum across another 11 tracks on Vol. 3. The finale of an ambitious project such as this can often feel bittersweet, as it marks the end of something you have (hopefully) come to love, or, like the finales to the Mission Impossible series or Daniel Craig’s James Bond run, it can just be plain disappointing.

Unlike the more energetic, sometimes ostentatious arrangements of the prior two records, Vol. 3 proves to be a much mellower affair. The gothic symphonic elements often pair with softer pop/rock tunes, many of which aim at mood over hooks. Opener “Kill the Lights” starts off with a poppy beat, some cellos, and a growling Chris Harms, and though the chorus might not stick, it’s an overall good song. The moodier pieces don’t always work, however. “The Shadows Within,” which alternates between slower pop and higher energy techno-pop, is largely forgettable. The minimalist finale, “The Days of Our Lives,” serves as a disappointing send-off for the trilogy, though Harms, as usual, makes it worthwhile with his melodic cadence. Though overall less exciting, Vol. 3 does offer plenty of catchy ballads and duets, including “La Vie Est Hell,” performed with departing Kissin’ Dynamite frontman, Hannes Braun.1 It doesn’t do anything fancy, yet I find it often playing in my head on repeat.2

Opvs Noir Vol. 3 does milk some variety out of a couple of pop-related themes coursing through it: empowerment and doomed love. The two most upbeat tunes, “I’m a Diamond” and “I Hate People,” play out as Rammstein techno-industrial pop anthems for people who don’t quite fit in with mainstream society. While “I’m a Diamond” is the catchiest song on offer, the lyrics are a touch contrived.3 “I Hate People” turns the misanthropic-sounding title on its head by directing its ire towards those who seek to force their limited ideology on others.4 Lyrically, the synth-heavy, hip-hop adjacent “My Funeral” is my favorite, containing tongue-in-cheek lyrics where Harms proclaims that “Black is my happy colour” and “I’m gonna, gonna wear / Pink to my funeral.” Rounding out the pop themes are a few love songs, from the Duran Duran-inspired synth pop track, “Square One,” complete with ’80s toms, to a touching duet with Ambre Vourvahis (Xandria). These touches do help keep a rather mild record from growing stale.

While the songs here are well-written, produced, and performed, there’s no denying that it feels as if Lord of the Lost ran out of gas by Vol. 3. The hooks just don’t come as easily, and the lower energy levels feel like a letdown compared to the highs of the first two volumes. One issue is the blandness of the guitars. While creative riffing has not been one of Lord of the Lost’s fortes, they made up for it in the past with more creative arrangements. The generic riffs that fire up on choruses from “The Shadows Within” to “Your Love is Colder Than Death” feel like halfhearted attempts to inject some life into tepid tunes. Much more effective is the penultimate song, “Take Me Far Away,” which ends with an exciting burst of drums and riffs that brings the record to life, albeit briefly.5

This finale ends up bittersweet, feeling more like a whimper than a bang. Yet for fans of Chris Harms and co., it’s not a total loss. Chris Harms is able to elevate even the blandest of tunes; there’s not a single bad song, though many are only mildly enjoyable. Unlike a lot of the dreck that some of the more popular metal bands release, however, Lord of the Lost puts a lot of thought and care into their music, and the Opvs Noir trilogy has plenty to offer those who like their metal less extreme, yet still carrying an edge.



Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

With 33 songs and over two hours of music, Lord of the Lost has written an ambitious trilogy, mercifully spread across eight months rather than released all at once. On Opvs Noir, the band leans into the darker, more gothic aspects of their pop-infused metal, bringing plenty of guest collaborators aboard to keep things spicy. The first two volumes of this opvs have proven a success, with creative instrumentation and an affecting performance from frontman Chris Harms. The question is whether Lord of the Lost can keep up the momentum across another 11 tracks on Vol. 3. The finale of an ambitious project such as this can often feel bittersweet, as it marks the end of something you have (hopefully) come to love, or, like the finales to the Mission Impossible series or Daniel Craig’s James Bond run, it can just be plain disappointing.

Unlike the more energetic, sometimes ostentatious arrangements of the prior two records, Vol. 3 proves to be a much mellower affair. The gothic symphonic elements often pair with softer pop/rock tunes, many of which aim at mood over hooks. Opener “Kill the Lights” starts off with a poppy beat, some cellos, and a growling Chris Harms, and though the chorus might not stick, it’s an overall good song. The moodier pieces don’t always work, however. “The Shadows Within,” which alternates between slower pop and higher energy techno-pop, is largely forgettable. The minimalist finale, “The Days of Our Lives,” serves as a disappointing send-off for the trilogy, though Harms, as usual, makes it worthwhile with his melodic cadence. Though overall less exciting, Vol. 3 does offer plenty of catchy ballads and duets, including “La Vie Est Hell,” performed with departing Kissin’ Dynamite frontman, Hannes Braun.1 It doesn’t do anything fancy, yet I find it often playing in my head on repeat.2

Opvs Noir Vol. 3 does milk some variety out of a couple of pop-related themes coursing through it: empowerment and doomed love. The two most upbeat tunes, “I’m a Diamond” and “I Hate People,” play out as Rammstein techno-industrial pop anthems for people who don’t quite fit in with mainstream society. While “I’m a Diamond” is the catchiest song on offer, the lyrics are a touch contrived.3 “I Hate People” turns the misanthropic-sounding title on its head by directing its ire towards those who seek to force their limited ideology on others.4 Lyrically, the synth-heavy, hip-hop adjacent “My Funeral” is my favorite, containing tongue-in-cheek lyrics where Harms proclaims that “Black is my happy colour” and “I’m gonna, gonna wear / Pink to my funeral.” Rounding out the pop themes are a few love songs, from the Duran Duran-inspired synth pop track, “Square One,” complete with ’80s toms, to a touching duet with Ambre Vourvahis (Xandria). These touches do help keep a rather mild record from growing stale.

While the songs here are well-written, produced, and performed, there’s no denying that it feels as if Lord of the Lost ran out of gas by Vol. 3. The hooks just don’t come as easily, and the lower energy levels feel like a letdown compared to the highs of the first two volumes. One issue is the blandness of the guitars. While creative riffing has not been one of Lord of the Lost’s fortes, they made up for it in the past with more creative arrangements. The generic riffs that fire up on choruses from “The Shadows Within” to “Your Love is Colder Than Death” feel like halfhearted attempts to inject some life into tepid tunes. Much more effective is the penultimate song, “Take Me Far Away,” which ends with an exciting burst of drums and riffs that brings the record to life, albeit briefly.5

This finale ends up bittersweet, feeling more like a whimper than a bang. Yet for fans of Chris Harms and co., it’s not a total loss. Chris Harms is able to elevate even the blandest of tunes; there’s not a single bad song, though many are only mildly enjoyable. Unlike a lot of the dreck that some of the more popular metal bands release, however, Lord of the Lost puts a lot of thought and care into their music, and the Opvs Noir trilogy has plenty to offer those who like their metal less extreme, yet still carrying an edge.



Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

With 33 songs and over two hours of music, Lord of the Lost has written an ambitious trilogy, mercifully spread across eight months rather than released all at once. On Opvs Noir, the band leans into the darker, more gothic aspects of their pop-infused metal, bringing plenty of guest collaborators aboard to keep things spicy. The first two volumes of this opvs have proven a success, with creative instrumentation and an affecting performance from frontman Chris Harms. The question is whether Lord of the Lost can keep up the momentum across another 11 tracks on Vol. 3. The finale of an ambitious project such as this can often feel bittersweet, as it marks the end of something you have (hopefully) come to love, or, like the finales to the Mission Impossible series or Daniel Craig’s James Bond run, it can just be plain disappointing.

Unlike the more energetic, sometimes ostentatious arrangements of the prior two records, Vol. 3 proves to be a much mellower affair. The gothic symphonic elements often pair with softer pop/rock tunes, many of which aim at mood over hooks. Opener “Kill the Lights” starts off with a poppy beat, some cellos, and a growling Chris Harms, and though the chorus might not stick, it’s an overall good song. The moodier pieces don’t always work, however. “The Shadows Within,” which alternates between slower pop and higher energy techno-pop, is largely forgettable. The minimalist finale, “The Days of Our Lives,” serves as a disappointing send-off for the trilogy, though Harms, as usual, makes it worthwhile with his melodic cadence. Though overall less exciting, Vol. 3 does offer plenty of catchy ballads and duets, including “La Vie Est Hell,” performed with departing Kissin’ Dynamite frontman, Hannes Braun.1 It doesn’t do anything fancy, yet I find it often playing in my head on repeat.2

Opvs Noir Vol. 3 does milk some variety out of a couple of pop-related themes coursing through it: empowerment and doomed love. The two most upbeat tunes, “I’m a Diamond” and “I Hate People,” play out as Rammstein techno-industrial pop anthems for people who don’t quite fit in with mainstream society. While “I’m a Diamond” is the catchiest song on offer, the lyrics are a touch contrived.3 “I Hate People” turns the misanthropic-sounding title on its head by directing its ire towards those who seek to force their limited ideology on others.4 Lyrically, the synth-heavy, hip-hop adjacent “My Funeral” is my favorite, containing tongue-in-cheek lyrics where Harms proclaims that “Black is my happy colour” and “I’m gonna, gonna wear / Pink to my funeral.” Rounding out the pop themes are a few love songs, from the Duran Duran-inspired synth pop track, “Square One,” complete with ’80s toms, to a touching duet with Ambre Vourvahis (Xandria). These touches do help keep a rather mild record from growing stale.

While the songs here are well-written, produced, and performed, there’s no denying that it feels as if Lord of the Lost ran out of gas by Vol. 3. The hooks just don’t come as easily, and the lower energy levels feel like a letdown compared to the highs of the first two volumes. One issue is the blandness of the guitars. While creative riffing has not been one of Lord of the Lost’s fortes, they made up for it in the past with more creative arrangements. The generic riffs that fire up on choruses from “The Shadows Within” to “Your Love is Colder Than Death” feel like halfhearted attempts to inject some life into tepid tunes. Much more effective is the penultimate song, “Take Me Far Away,” which ends with an exciting burst of drums and riffs that brings the record to life, albeit briefly.5

This finale ends up bittersweet, feeling more like a whimper than a bang. Yet for fans of Chris Harms and co., it’s not a total loss. Chris Harms is able to elevate even the blandest of tunes; there’s not a single bad song, though many are only mildly enjoyable. Unlike a lot of the dreck that some of the more popular metal bands release, however, Lord of the Lost puts a lot of thought and care into their music, and the Opvs Noir trilogy has plenty to offer those who like their metal less extreme, yet still carrying an edge.



Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

With 33 songs and over two hours of music, Lord of the Lost has written an ambitious trilogy, mercifully spread across eight months rather than released all at once. On Opvs Noir, the band leans into the darker, more gothic aspects of their pop-infused metal, bringing plenty of guest collaborators aboard to keep things spicy. The first two volumes of this opvs have proven a success, with creative instrumentation and an affecting performance from frontman Chris Harms. The question is whether Lord of the Lost can keep up the momentum across another 11 tracks on Vol. 3. The finale of an ambitious project such as this can often feel bittersweet, as it marks the end of something you have (hopefully) come to love, or, like the finales to the Mission Impossible series or Daniel Craig’s James Bond run, it can just be plain disappointing.

Unlike the more energetic, sometimes ostentatious arrangements of the prior two records, Vol. 3 proves to be a much mellower affair. The gothic symphonic elements often pair with softer pop/rock tunes, many of which aim at mood over hooks. Opener “Kill the Lights” starts off with a poppy beat, some cellos, and a growling Chris Harms, and though the chorus might not stick, it’s an overall good song. The moodier pieces don’t always work, however. “The Shadows Within,” which alternates between slower pop and higher energy techno-pop, is largely forgettable. The minimalist finale, “The Days of Our Lives,” serves as a disappointing send-off for the trilogy, though Harms, as usual, makes it worthwhile with his melodic cadence. Though overall less exciting, Vol. 3 does offer plenty of catchy ballads and duets, including “La Vie Est Hell,” performed with departing Kissin’ Dynamite frontman, Hannes Braun.1 It doesn’t do anything fancy, yet I find it often playing in my head on repeat.2

Opvs Noir Vol. 3 does milk some variety out of a couple of pop-related themes coursing through it: empowerment and doomed love. The two most upbeat tunes, “I’m a Diamond” and “I Hate People,” play out as Rammstein techno-industrial pop anthems for people who don’t quite fit in with mainstream society. While “I’m a Diamond” is the catchiest song on offer, the lyrics are a touch contrived.3 “I Hate People” turns the misanthropic-sounding title on its head by directing its ire towards those who seek to force their limited ideology on others.4 Lyrically, the synth-heavy, hip-hop adjacent “My Funeral” is my favorite, containing tongue-in-cheek lyrics where Harms proclaims that “Black is my happy colour” and “I’m gonna, gonna wear / Pink to my funeral.” Rounding out the pop themes are a few love songs, from the Duran Duran-inspired synth pop track, “Square One,” complete with ’80s toms, to a touching duet with Ambre Vourvahis (Xandria). These touches do help keep a rather mild record from growing stale.

While the songs here are well-written, produced, and performed, there’s no denying that it feels as if Lord of the Lost ran out of gas by Vol. 3. The hooks just don’t come as easily, and the lower energy levels feel like a letdown compared to the highs of the first two volumes. One issue is the blandness of the guitars. While creative riffing has not been one of Lord of the Lost’s fortes, they made up for it in the past with more creative arrangements. The generic riffs that fire up on choruses from “The Shadows Within” to “Your Love is Colder Than Death” feel like halfhearted attempts to inject some life into tepid tunes. Much more effective is the penultimate song, “Take Me Far Away,” which ends with an exciting burst of drums and riffs that brings the record to life, albeit briefly.5

This finale ends up bittersweet, feeling more like a whimper than a bang. Yet for fans of Chris Harms and co., it’s not a total loss. Chris Harms is able to elevate even the blandest of tunes; there’s not a single bad song, though many are only mildly enjoyable. Unlike a lot of the dreck that some of the more popular metal bands release, however, Lord of the Lost puts a lot of thought and care into their music, and the Opvs Noir trilogy has plenty to offer those who like their metal less extreme, yet still carrying an edge.



Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

With 33 songs and over two hours of music, Lord of the Lost has written an ambitious trilogy, mercifully spread across eight months rather than released all at once. On Opvs Noir, the band leans into the darker, more gothic aspects of their pop-infused metal, bringing plenty of guest collaborators aboard to keep things spicy. The first two volumes of this opvs have proven a success, with creative instrumentation and an affecting performance from frontman Chris Harms. The question is whether Lord of the Lost can keep up the momentum across another 11 tracks on Vol. 3. The finale of an ambitious project such as this can often feel bittersweet, as it marks the end of something you have (hopefully) come to love, or, like the finales to the Mission Impossible series or Daniel Craig’s James Bond run, it can just be plain disappointing.

Unlike the more energetic, sometimes ostentatious arrangements of the prior two records, Vol. 3 proves to be a much mellower affair. The gothic symphonic elements often pair with softer pop/rock tunes, many of which aim at mood over hooks. Opener “Kill the Lights” starts off with a poppy beat, some cellos, and a growling Chris Harms, and though the chorus might not stick, it’s an overall good song. The moodier pieces don’t always work, however. “The Shadows Within,” which alternates between slower pop and higher energy techno-pop, is largely forgettable. The minimalist finale, “The Days of Our Lives,” serves as a disappointing send-off for the trilogy, though Harms, as usual, makes it worthwhile with his melodic cadence. Though overall less exciting, Vol. 3 does offer plenty of catchy ballads and duets, including “La Vie Est Hell,” performed with departing Kissin’ Dynamite frontman, Hannes Braun.1 It doesn’t do anything fancy, yet I find it often playing in my head on repeat.2

Opvs Noir Vol. 3 does milk some variety out of a couple of pop-related themes coursing through it: empowerment and doomed love. The two most upbeat tunes, “I’m a Diamond” and “I Hate People,” play out as Rammstein techno-industrial pop anthems for people who don’t quite fit in with mainstream society. While “I’m a Diamond” is the catchiest song on offer, the lyrics are a touch contrived.3 “I Hate People” turns the misanthropic-sounding title on its head by directing its ire towards those who seek to force their limited ideology on others.4 Lyrically, the synth-heavy, hip-hop adjacent “My Funeral” is my favorite, containing tongue-in-cheek lyrics where Harms proclaims that “Black is my happy colour” and “I’m gonna, gonna wear / Pink to my funeral.” Rounding out the pop themes are a few love songs, from the Duran Duran-inspired synth pop track, “Square One,” complete with ’80s toms, to a touching duet with Ambre Vourvahis (Xandria). These touches do help keep a rather mild record from growing stale.

While the songs here are well-written, produced, and performed, there’s no denying that it feels as if Lord of the Lost ran out of gas by Vol. 3. The hooks just don’t come as easily, and the lower energy levels feel like a letdown compared to the highs of the first two volumes. One issue is the blandness of the guitars. While creative riffing has not been one of Lord of the Lost’s fortes, they made up for it in the past with more creative arrangements. The generic riffs that fire up on choruses from “The Shadows Within” to “Your Love is Colder Than Death” feel like halfhearted attempts to inject some life into tepid tunes. Much more effective is the penultimate song, “Take Me Far Away,” which ends with an exciting burst of drums and riffs that brings the record to life, albeit briefly.5

This finale ends up bittersweet, feeling more like a whimper than a bang. Yet for fans of Chris Harms and co., it’s not a total loss. Chris Harms is able to elevate even the blandest of tunes; there’s not a single bad song, though many are only mildly enjoyable. Unlike a lot of the dreck that some of the more popular metal bands release, however, Lord of the Lost puts a lot of thought and care into their music, and the Opvs Noir trilogy has plenty to offer those who like their metal less extreme, yet still carrying an edge.



Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/uk/867692/ Void of Light – Asymmetries Review #2026 #40 #Apr26 #Asymmetries #DeadlyCarnage #Entertainment #LLNN #music #PostRock #PostBlack #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #Sludge #TheOcean #UK #UKMetal #UnitedKingdom #VoidOfLight

Does Void of Light refer to a source of luminescence, or is it shorthand for its total absence? The group might know something about the latter, hailing as they do from the northerly latitude of Glasgow, Scotland. Their musical medium—a sludgy, atmospheric post-metal—also reflects a dichotomous embodiment of light and dark: often crushingly heavy and thematically bleak, but also upliftingly melodic. Asymmetries—another nod to duality and imbalance—is a debut four years in the making, drawing together the fragments of brutality and reflective ambience from the preceding EPs into a bold statement on who Void of Light are. And decisive that statement certainly is.

Void of Light’s approach to post-metal is rich and dynamic, layering leaden riffing, melancholic melody, and flexible tempos around one another to augment the music’s ability to captivate. Strikingly, flatteringly akin to Deadly Carnage in the expert intermingling of delicacy and harshness (“Still the Night Skies”) and an ever-evolving rhythm, the album flows gracefully. Dips into The Ocean of steady, progressive builds, tangles with LLNN-levels of skull-bashing heaviness (“Mirrorings”), and even flirtation with black metal (“Ends,” “Mirrorings”) compliment a nuanced, emotional soundscape with heart and bite.

Asymmetries by Void of Light

The magnetism of Asymmetries is felt gradually and with progressive strength, like approaching a planet’s gravitational field. Things begin almost understatedly in “The Passing Hours,” with a loose, modulated melody and a steady onward crush that only hints at the depths to come. That is, before the final act gives the game away when soft singing gives way to a jubilant guitar solo over the rush of blackened percussion: a dramatic backdrop for the final reprise. These soaring, energetic guitar lines weave in and out across the record, communicating joy and bittersweet blueness as they variously dance (“Silver Mask,” “Ends”) and float (“The Passing Hours,” “Still the Night Skies”) over the comparative bluntness. Gentle (“The Passing Hours,” “Ends”) and impassioned (“Silver Mask,” “Still the Night Skies,” “Mirrorings”) cleans add still more layers of emotion as they move in pitch and volume with or in brilliant opposition to the instrumentation, and equally ardent screams (“Silver Mask,” “Still the Night Skies”). None of this would be half as stirring, however, were it not wrapped around the multidimensional rhythmic core that spills over from the percussion to riffs and vocals alike. Rippling fills and agile rolls thread texture upon which singing floats or screams rain down (“The Passing Hours,” “Mirrorings”). Frequent slides into snappy off-beats (“Silver Mask,” “Ends”) and impressively rich, cascading blackened tirades (“Ends,” “Still the Night Skies,” “Mirrorings”)—the kind you’d expect from Panopticon—intensify already incendiary peaks where aforementioned guitars dance or soar.

Asymmetries, as a name, can only be used complimentarily here; perhaps the worst that could be said is that the album might get even better as it progresses. If I had to be incredibly harsh, I would point to the oft-repeated pattern of songs lapsing midway into stripped-back plucking and singing before the reprise of heaviness. Even then, songs don’t sound the same, and the formula is an effective conduit for tension and emotion, formula though it may be. Really, though, Asymmetries feels ideally formed and structured to deliver the maximum impact as it is: the rhythms growing more fluid and restless, the layers of sung and screamed vocals more multiplicitous, and the returning spaces of poignant ambience serving to gradually dial up the pathos as well as the more tangible force of the riffs, drumbeats, and roars. If the ascendant singing in the final act of “Silver Mask” lifts you up, wait until “Still the Night Skies,” and the cascading multitracking on “Mirrorings”. If “The Passing Hours” jolts you into attention with its final forcefulness, wait until the sudden savagery that closes “Ends” and then how the following songs stack this ardour with that singing, and the consistently gorgeous waves of clear and hazy melody.

Asymmetries’ power was not instantly obvious, but with every listen its grip grew tighter and the sky around it lost its colours as they were drawn into the void. Void of Light effectively communicate a dichotomy between light and shadow in their sad, uplifting, harsh, fragile debut. And if this is where they’re starting from, then heads, hearts, and score-safety-counters everywhere will need to watch out in the future.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripcord Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

Does Void of Light refer to a source of luminescence, or is it shorthand for its total absence? The group might know something about the latter, hailing as they do from the northerly latitude of Glasgow, Scotland. Their musical medium—a sludgy, atmospheric post-metal—also reflects a dichotomous embodiment of light and dark: often crushingly heavy and thematically bleak, but also upliftingly melodic. Asymmetries—another nod to duality and imbalance—is a debut four years in the making, drawing together the fragments of brutality and reflective ambience from the preceding EPs into a bold statement on who Void of Light are. And decisive that statement certainly is.

Void of Light’s approach to post-metal is rich and dynamic, layering leaden riffing, melancholic melody, and flexible tempos around one another to augment the music’s ability to captivate. Strikingly, flatteringly akin to Deadly Carnage in the expert intermingling of delicacy and harshness (“Still the Night Skies”) and an ever-evolving rhythm, the album flows gracefully. Dips into The Ocean of steady, progressive builds, tangles with LLNN-levels of skull-bashing heaviness (“Mirrorings”), and even flirtation with black metal (“Ends,” “Mirrorings”) compliment a nuanced, emotional soundscape with heart and bite.

Asymmetries by Void of Light

The magnetism of Asymmetries is felt gradually and with progressive strength, like approaching a planet’s gravitational field. Things begin almost understatedly in “The Passing Hours,” with a loose, modulated melody and a steady onward crush that only hints at the depths to come. That is, before the final act gives the game away when soft singing gives way to a jubilant guitar solo over the rush of blackened percussion: a dramatic backdrop for the final reprise. These soaring, energetic guitar lines weave in and out across the record, communicating joy and bittersweet blueness as they variously dance (“Silver Mask,” “Ends”) and float (“The Passing Hours,” “Still the Night Skies”) over the comparative bluntness. Gentle (“The Passing Hours,” “Ends”) and impassioned (“Silver Mask,” “Still the Night Skies,” “Mirrorings”) cleans add still more layers of emotion as they move in pitch and volume with or in brilliant opposition to the instrumentation, and equally ardent screams (“Silver Mask,” “Still the Night Skies”). None of this would be half as stirring, however, were it not wrapped around the multidimensional rhythmic core that spills over from the percussion to riffs and vocals alike. Rippling fills and agile rolls thread texture upon which singing floats or screams rain down (“The Passing Hours,” “Mirrorings”). Frequent slides into snappy off-beats (“Silver Mask,” “Ends”) and impressively rich, cascading blackened tirades (“Ends,” “Still the Night Skies,” “Mirrorings”)—the kind you’d expect from Panopticon—intensify already incendiary peaks where aforementioned guitars dance or soar.

Asymmetries, as a name, can only be used complimentarily here; perhaps the worst that could be said is that the album might get even better as it progresses. If I had to be incredibly harsh, I would point to the oft-repeated pattern of songs lapsing midway into stripped-back plucking and singing before the reprise of heaviness. Even then, songs don’t sound the same, and the formula is an effective conduit for tension and emotion, formula though it may be. Really, though, Asymmetries feels ideally formed and structured to deliver the maximum impact as it is: the rhythms growing more fluid and restless, the layers of sung and screamed vocals more multiplicitous, and the returning spaces of poignant ambience serving to gradually dial up the pathos as well as the more tangible force of the riffs, drumbeats, and roars. If the ascendant singing in the final act of “Silver Mask” lifts you up, wait until “Still the Night Skies,” and the cascading multitracking on “Mirrorings”. If “The Passing Hours” jolts you into attention with its final forcefulness, wait until the sudden savagery that closes “Ends” and then how the following songs stack this ardour with that singing, and the consistently gorgeous waves of clear and hazy melody.

Asymmetries’ power was not instantly obvious, but with every listen its grip grew tighter and the sky around it lost its colours as they were drawn into the void. Void of Light effectively communicate a dichotomy between light and shadow in their sad, uplifting, harsh, fragile debut. And if this is where they’re starting from, then heads, hearts, and score-safety-counters everywhere will need to watch out in the future.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripcord Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

Does Void of Light refer to a source of luminescence, or is it shorthand for its total absence? The group might know something about the latter, hailing as they do from the northerly latitude of Glasgow, Scotland. Their musical medium—a sludgy, atmospheric post-metal—also reflects a dichotomous embodiment of light and dark: often crushingly heavy and thematically bleak, but also upliftingly melodic. Asymmetries—another nod to duality and imbalance—is a debut four years in the making, drawing together the fragments of brutality and reflective ambience from the preceding EPs into a bold statement on who Void of Light are. And decisive that statement certainly is.

Void of Light’s approach to post-metal is rich and dynamic, layering leaden riffing, melancholic melody, and flexible tempos around one another to augment the music’s ability to captivate. Strikingly, flatteringly akin to Deadly Carnage in the expert intermingling of delicacy and harshness (“Still the Night Skies”) and an ever-evolving rhythm, the album flows gracefully. Dips into The Ocean of steady, progressive builds, tangles with LLNN-levels of skull-bashing heaviness (“Mirrorings”), and even flirtation with black metal (“Ends,” “Mirrorings”) compliment a nuanced, emotional soundscape with heart and bite.

Asymmetries by Void of Light

The magnetism of Asymmetries is felt gradually and with progressive strength, like approaching a planet’s gravitational field. Things begin almost understatedly in “The Passing Hours,” with a loose, modulated melody and a steady onward crush that only hints at the depths to come. That is, before the final act gives the game away when soft singing gives way to a jubilant guitar solo over the rush of blackened percussion: a dramatic backdrop for the final reprise. These soaring, energetic guitar lines weave in and out across the record, communicating joy and bittersweet blueness as they variously dance (“Silver Mask,” “Ends”) and float (“The Passing Hours,” “Still the Night Skies”) over the comparative bluntness. Gentle (“The Passing Hours,” “Ends”) and impassioned (“Silver Mask,” “Still the Night Skies,” “Mirrorings”) cleans add still more layers of emotion as they move in pitch and volume with or in brilliant opposition to the instrumentation, and equally ardent screams (“Silver Mask,” “Still the Night Skies”). None of this would be half as stirring, however, were it not wrapped around the multidimensional rhythmic core that spills over from the percussion to riffs and vocals alike. Rippling fills and agile rolls thread texture upon which singing floats or screams rain down (“The Passing Hours,” “Mirrorings”). Frequent slides into snappy off-beats (“Silver Mask,” “Ends”) and impressively rich, cascading blackened tirades (“Ends,” “Still the Night Skies,” “Mirrorings”)—the kind you’d expect from Panopticon—intensify already incendiary peaks where aforementioned guitars dance or soar.

Asymmetries, as a name, can only be used complimentarily here; perhaps the worst that could be said is that the album might get even better as it progresses. If I had to be incredibly harsh, I would point to the oft-repeated pattern of songs lapsing midway into stripped-back plucking and singing before the reprise of heaviness. Even then, songs don’t sound the same, and the formula is an effective conduit for tension and emotion, formula though it may be. Really, though, Asymmetries feels ideally formed and structured to deliver the maximum impact as it is: the rhythms growing more fluid and restless, the layers of sung and screamed vocals more multiplicitous, and the returning spaces of poignant ambience serving to gradually dial up the pathos as well as the more tangible force of the riffs, drumbeats, and roars. If the ascendant singing in the final act of “Silver Mask” lifts you up, wait until “Still the Night Skies,” and the cascading multitracking on “Mirrorings”. If “The Passing Hours” jolts you into attention with its final forcefulness, wait until the sudden savagery that closes “Ends” and then how the following songs stack this ardour with that singing, and the consistently gorgeous waves of clear and hazy melody.

Asymmetries’ power was not instantly obvious, but with every listen its grip grew tighter and the sky around it lost its colours as they were drawn into the void. Void of Light effectively communicate a dichotomy between light and shadow in their sad, uplifting, harsh, fragile debut. And if this is where they’re starting from, then heads, hearts, and score-safety-counters everywhere will need to watch out in the future.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripcord Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

Does Void of Light refer to a source of luminescence, or is it shorthand for its total absence? The group might know something about the latter, hailing as they do from the northerly latitude of Glasgow, Scotland. Their musical medium—a sludgy, atmospheric post-metal—also reflects a dichotomous embodiment of light and dark: often crushingly heavy and thematically bleak, but also upliftingly melodic. Asymmetries—another nod to duality and imbalance—is a debut four years in the making, drawing together the fragments of brutality and reflective ambience from the preceding EPs into a bold statement on who Void of Light are. And decisive that statement certainly is.

Void of Light’s approach to post-metal is rich and dynamic, layering leaden riffing, melancholic melody, and flexible tempos around one another to augment the music’s ability to captivate. Strikingly, flatteringly akin to Deadly Carnage in the expert intermingling of delicacy and harshness (“Still the Night Skies”) and an ever-evolving rhythm, the album flows gracefully. Dips into The Ocean of steady, progressive builds, tangles with LLNN-levels of skull-bashing heaviness (“Mirrorings”), and even flirtation with black metal (“Ends,” “Mirrorings”) compliment a nuanced, emotional soundscape with heart and bite.

Asymmetries by Void of Light

The magnetism of Asymmetries is felt gradually and with progressive strength, like approaching a planet’s gravitational field. Things begin almost understatedly in “The Passing Hours,” with a loose, modulated melody and a steady onward crush that only hints at the depths to come. That is, before the final act gives the game away when soft singing gives way to a jubilant guitar solo over the rush of blackened percussion: a dramatic backdrop for the final reprise. These soaring, energetic guitar lines weave in and out across the record, communicating joy and bittersweet blueness as they variously dance (“Silver Mask,” “Ends”) and float (“The Passing Hours,” “Still the Night Skies”) over the comparative bluntness. Gentle (“The Passing Hours,” “Ends”) and impassioned (“Silver Mask,” “Still the Night Skies,” “Mirrorings”) cleans add still more layers of emotion as they move in pitch and volume with or in brilliant opposition to the instrumentation, and equally ardent screams (“Silver Mask,” “Still the Night Skies”). None of this would be half as stirring, however, were it not wrapped around the multidimensional rhythmic core that spills over from the percussion to riffs and vocals alike. Rippling fills and agile rolls thread texture upon which singing floats or screams rain down (“The Passing Hours,” “Mirrorings”). Frequent slides into snappy off-beats (“Silver Mask,” “Ends”) and impressively rich, cascading blackened tirades (“Ends,” “Still the Night Skies,” “Mirrorings”)—the kind you’d expect from Panopticon—intensify already incendiary peaks where aforementioned guitars dance or soar.

Asymmetries, as a name, can only be used complimentarily here; perhaps the worst that could be said is that the album might get even better as it progresses. If I had to be incredibly harsh, I would point to the oft-repeated pattern of songs lapsing midway into stripped-back plucking and singing before the reprise of heaviness. Even then, songs don’t sound the same, and the formula is an effective conduit for tension and emotion, formula though it may be. Really, though, Asymmetries feels ideally formed and structured to deliver the maximum impact as it is: the rhythms growing more fluid and restless, the layers of sung and screamed vocals more multiplicitous, and the returning spaces of poignant ambience serving to gradually dial up the pathos as well as the more tangible force of the riffs, drumbeats, and roars. If the ascendant singing in the final act of “Silver Mask” lifts you up, wait until “Still the Night Skies,” and the cascading multitracking on “Mirrorings”. If “The Passing Hours” jolts you into attention with its final forcefulness, wait until the sudden savagery that closes “Ends” and then how the following songs stack this ardour with that singing, and the consistently gorgeous waves of clear and hazy melody.

Asymmetries’ power was not instantly obvious, but with every listen its grip grew tighter and the sky around it lost its colours as they were drawn into the void. Void of Light effectively communicate a dichotomy between light and shadow in their sad, uplifting, harsh, fragile debut. And if this is where they’re starting from, then heads, hearts, and score-safety-counters everywhere will need to watch out in the future.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripcord Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

Does Void of Light refer to a source of luminescence, or is it shorthand for its total absence? The group might know something about the latter, hailing as they do from the northerly latitude of Glasgow, Scotland. Their musical medium—a sludgy, atmospheric post-metal—also reflects a dichotomous embodiment of light and dark: often crushingly heavy and thematically bleak, but also upliftingly melodic. Asymmetries—another nod to duality and imbalance—is a debut four years in the making, drawing together the fragments of brutality and reflective ambience from the preceding EPs into a bold statement on who Void of Light are. And decisive that statement certainly is.

Void of Light’s approach to post-metal is rich and dynamic, layering leaden riffing, melancholic melody, and flexible tempos around one another to augment the music’s ability to captivate. Strikingly, flatteringly akin to Deadly Carnage in the expert intermingling of delicacy and harshness (“Still the Night Skies”) and an ever-evolving rhythm, the album flows gracefully. Dips into The Ocean of steady, progressive builds, tangles with LLNN-levels of skull-bashing heaviness (“Mirrorings”), and even flirtation with black metal (“Ends,” “Mirrorings”) compliment a nuanced, emotional soundscape with heart and bite.

Asymmetries by Void of Light

The magnetism of Asymmetries is felt gradually and with progressive strength, like approaching a planet’s gravitational field. Things begin almost understatedly in “The Passing Hours,” with a loose, modulated melody and a steady onward crush that only hints at the depths to come. That is, before the final act gives the game away when soft singing gives way to a jubilant guitar solo over the rush of blackened percussion: a dramatic backdrop for the final reprise. These soaring, energetic guitar lines weave in and out across the record, communicating joy and bittersweet blueness as they variously dance (“Silver Mask,” “Ends”) and float (“The Passing Hours,” “Still the Night Skies”) over the comparative bluntness. Gentle (“The Passing Hours,” “Ends”) and impassioned (“Silver Mask,” “Still the Night Skies,” “Mirrorings”) cleans add still more layers of emotion as they move in pitch and volume with or in brilliant opposition to the instrumentation, and equally ardent screams (“Silver Mask,” “Still the Night Skies”). None of this would be half as stirring, however, were it not wrapped around the multidimensional rhythmic core that spills over from the percussion to riffs and vocals alike. Rippling fills and agile rolls thread texture upon which singing floats or screams rain down (“The Passing Hours,” “Mirrorings”). Frequent slides into snappy off-beats (“Silver Mask,” “Ends”) and impressively rich, cascading blackened tirades (“Ends,” “Still the Night Skies,” “Mirrorings”)—the kind you’d expect from Panopticon—intensify already incendiary peaks where aforementioned guitars dance or soar.

Asymmetries, as a name, can only be used complimentarily here; perhaps the worst that could be said is that the album might get even better as it progresses. If I had to be incredibly harsh, I would point to the oft-repeated pattern of songs lapsing midway into stripped-back plucking and singing before the reprise of heaviness. Even then, songs don’t sound the same, and the formula is an effective conduit for tension and emotion, formula though it may be. Really, though, Asymmetries feels ideally formed and structured to deliver the maximum impact as it is: the rhythms growing more fluid and restless, the layers of sung and screamed vocals more multiplicitous, and the returning spaces of poignant ambience serving to gradually dial up the pathos as well as the more tangible force of the riffs, drumbeats, and roars. If the ascendant singing in the final act of “Silver Mask” lifts you up, wait until “Still the Night Skies,” and the cascading multitracking on “Mirrorings”. If “The Passing Hours” jolts you into attention with its final forcefulness, wait until the sudden savagery that closes “Ends” and then how the following songs stack this ardour with that singing, and the consistently gorgeous waves of clear and hazy melody.

Asymmetries’ power was not instantly obvious, but with every listen its grip grew tighter and the sky around it lost its colours as they were drawn into the void. Void of Light effectively communicate a dichotomy between light and shadow in their sad, uplifting, harsh, fragile debut. And if this is where they’re starting from, then heads, hearts, and score-safety-counters everywhere will need to watch out in the future.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripcord Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026