#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!

Shagohod – A Curse That Hides the Door Review

Whenever I feel like I keep seeing the same things in our promo pile, something genuinely fresh and…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #ACurseThatHidestheDoor #AmericanMetal #Apr26 #audioslave #Caligula'sHorse #CoheedandCambria #Entertainment #Gunship #Invoke #Opeth #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #Punk #review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Shagohod #Synthwave #TheDearHunter #UK #UnitedKingdom #Wilderun
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/658301/

There are few concepts in the Western tradition as misunderstood as that of “the death of God.” It is not a triumphant proclamation, nor a call for apathetic nihilism. What has been coined in recent online discourse as a ‘meaning crisis’ is only barely getting the point. The Loss of Transcendence—some universal, ultimate, mind-independent Truth and set of values—is a beginning, an event that should prompt critical thought and action and confrontation of a human condition that we sedate ourselves out of with belief in a higher power or sense and reason in the universe; hope; or the rescinding of responsibility to the idea that ‘nothing matters.12 The Great Observer seem to have done their homework for the most part, with their debut channeling their thrashy blackened death into a philosophical call to action that blends Existentialism with Stoicism and Epicureanism. Fresh on the scene and immediately going all-in in aggression and storytelling, what can The Great Observer give to us?

On the face of it, Loss of Transcendence is standard black/death/thrash, with a rotating emphasis on each of those three components. Sticking primarily to up-tempo, gritty riffing in a vein somewhere between Necrophobic, Tomb Mold, and Morbid Angel—though a less flashy iteration—The Great Observer do nonetheless find time to linger in some cavernousness that vaguely recalls Disembowelment. They further emphasise their mean streak with a pervasive vocal echo that adds to the grime of the throaty howls and is compounded during the many instances when such vocals are multi-tracked or delivered as a group. But not all of this energy is used in service of evil; there’s a strong anthemic side to these choruses and a jaunty bombast to many a beat. In many ways, it gives off the aura of classical extreme metal—back when Black Metal was an album title, and ugliness, speed, and aggression were the name of the game in a fundamentally different way to how they are now. And yet, under the layers of dirt and behind the malevolence lie small seeds of nuance, and it is to Loss of Transcendence’s great detriment that they remain scattered seeds alone.

Loss of Transcendence flirts with many things—intrigue, atmosphere, tenacity—but never quite wins any of them over. Riffs generally check boxes for pugnacity, but even at their most brutish and slick (“The Great Observer,” “Impervious Creation”), they have no edge, no force. At the worst end, guitar lines are entirely blunt thanks to nondescript, generic-sounding melodies and patterns (“Herald of Thorns,” “How Far the Faithless will Venture”). It’s unfortunate that all of the best guitar sits in the record’s back half, with “Impervious Creation” and “The Weight of Being Free” delivering shimmying, sliding shredding capable of winning over the harshest of critics, and the latter track featuring a genuinely beautiful, buttery smooth solo that combines everything great about grimy yet gorgeous extreme metal. The frequent use of group vocals, which sometimes creates an impressive miasma of harrowing calls (“Impervious Creation,” title track), falls awkwardly flat when delivered as rousing shouts (“Sentenced at High Noon,” “At The Summit of Consciousness,” “The Weight…”) thanks to the latter’s surprising corniness. The Great Observer also experiment in an exasperatingly random manner with distortion, with a liquid, Worm-adjacent effect appearing in random snatches never to develop (“Parénklisis (Fallen Into Existence),” “How Far…,” “The Weight…,” title track); and the worst part is that it’s good! The pace, generally high, is also stymied by not one but two synth-heavy instrumentals as “Parénklisis…” opens the album with a gravitas that never appears again, and “Ékstasis (The Lonesome Path)” needlessly presses pause for two minutes of ambience and whispering.

In reality, Loss of Transcendence feels frustratingly lukewarm. A mix that pushes guitars erratically between the far background and the very forefront, and a baffling decision3 to layer vocal tracks and reverb like lasagna over these riffs (“The Great Observer,” “Sentenced at High Noon,” “The Weight…,” title track) makes what could be decent blackened death sound almost poor. Almost the only time the guitars sound good is when they sound great, soloing in sudden clarity (“Sentenced…,” “Impervious Creation”) and with fluent expressiveness (“The Weight…,”), and these highlights appear exclusively in the second half. Given this, it becomes harder to forgive the swing of strangely upbeat gang shouts (“Sentenced…,” “Herald of Thorns”) and a brusque attitude to riff-writing that tends to shy away from character.

It’s always a shame when a concept I’m particularly interested in is delivered in mediocre form. Loss of Transcendence strikes as an album that would have had heads spinning and Bibles being reached for in the early 90s but now its grit cannot make up for its shortcomings. Failing to develop their best ideas and sidelining their assets far too often, The Great Observer still haven’t seen how to capitalise on their strengths, and Loss of Transcendence loses more than higher values as a result.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: BlackSeed Productions
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 30th, 2026

Seeking revenge for her son’s death, Grendel’s mother thrusts her sword at Beowulf. ‘Him on eaxle læg / breostnet broden,’ the Beowulf poet pens,1 ‘þæt gebearh feore, / wið ord ond wið ecge ingang forstod.’ For those unfluent in Old English: Beowulf’s chainmail saved his life, withstanding both the edge and ‘ord’ (tip/spear) of the vengeful matriarch’s sword. From this archaic term for the spear of a sword, Ordh derives its appellation, which may suggest to readers an Anglo-Saxon-themed war metal outfit. That (killer) Paolo Girardi artwork, however, screams cosmic-prog death,2 with Blind in Abyssal Realms being the Vermont quartet’s first full-length lunge at the metal community. Ordh will need to be sharper than the sword of Grendel’s mother, though, for the generic chainmail of progressive death metal is more tightly braided than that adorned by the King of the Geats.3

The cosmic-prog death of Blind in Abyssal Realms claims roots in an earthier subgenre. After the dissolution of progressive sludgers Barishi, guitarist Graham Brooks joined forces with vocalist Jonathan Hébert of sludge-doomers Come to Grief to form a new band. In shifting from the slurry of sludge to the heft of death metal while retaining progressive and doom elements, Ordh ends up sounding like an atmospheric Mortiferum. Brooks’s riffs, whether on low or high strings, always possess grandeur, and his solos splotch like Jackson Pollock splashing paint across a canvas. Brooks also engineered the album’s synths, which are noticeable but never overpower the guitarwork. Hébert’s gutturals keep things terrestrial, hollering at the heavens from his earth-bound cave. Joining Brooks and Hébert are rhythm section Josh Smith (bass) and Dylan Blake (drums, ex-Barishi). Blake especially shines, mixing typical death-metal pounding with jazzy roving and glorious rototom runs. Given Ordh’s previous experience in sludge, it’s impressive how sharp their first attempt at cosmic-prog death is, standing toe to toe with the likes of Cosmic Putrefaction and Blood Incantation.

Blind in Abyssal Realms by Ordh

What makes Blind in Abyssal Realms cut deep is its balancing of atmosphere with instantly memorable riffs. Opener “Apis Bull” perfectly demonstrates this dichotomy; its big, bendy Oldpeth figure alternates with a spacey, higher-register version of itself before exploring new terrain. Similarly, “Moon of Urd” rises with a delightfully demented earworm that reveals a lush blanket of pure psych twilight. “Phlegraean Fields,” the most adventurous song on here, builds an ever-morphing, synth-laden melody, capturing a stranger surveying a mythical landscape with terror-tinged curiosity.4 Right out the gate, Ordh understands that the ‘cosmic’ in ‘cosmic-prog death’ should not be cosmetic. Indeed, the synths support consistently superb riffs on this debut, imbuing them with enriching depth.

Some aspects of Blind in Abyssal Realms dull its attack. Production-wise, the record sounds good but lacks a bit of low end. The caveman parts don’t hit as hard as they should; Blake’s kick drum could use more oomph, and Smith’s bass is frequently hard to detect in anything other than clean sections. Concerning the album’s pacing, the last two tracks don’t quite measure up to the ascending quality of the opening trio. “Blind in Abyssal Realms” is a strong song that, at over 12 minutes, could use editing. “Hierothesion” refreshingly closes out the record as its most straightforward pummeler, but similarly, some concision would amplify its effect. And as for originality, Ordh mostly sounds like itself, though occasionally, combinations of blast beats, dive bombs, and ‘aaaghs!’ are a bit too on the Blood Incantation nose.

Nitpicks aside, Ordh drives home its point with Blind in Abyssal Realms. This is an impressive debut that makes a mark on progressive death metal. Comprised of five tracks at just under 45 minutes, Blind in Abyssal Realms advances as a filler-free affair, trading violent slashes with chilled-out parries in a manner inviting repeat engagements. Fans of the genre should definitely spar with this sonic sword. Swīðe gōd weorc, Ordh!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pulverised Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

A little less than a year ago, Green Carnation dropped Part I of their A Dark Poem trilogy, The Shores of Melancholia. That captivating record sets the stage for the band’s ambitious Ophelia-inspired epic. While I know many loved The Shores of Melancholia as it stood (which is fair), I had a difficult time treating it that way, knowing it was meant to be a full experience. Thankfully, I can say that The Shores of Melancholia works even more now that I’ve heard A Dark Poem Part II: Sanguis. The Shores of Melancholia is a fantastic introduction to the unbearable depression, frustration, guilt, and sorrow that envelop Sanguis and its impeccably concise, thirty-seven-minute runtime. So, I’ll admit, individual albums should have stand-alone qualities. That way, listeners can absorb a record in the moment and in the entire experience when they have time for such a thing. We all know Part I mostly achieved that, but what about Part II?

I can thankfully say that Green Carnation has achieved both. Sanguis is a record you can put on repeat with no problems, while also setting both parts on in succession. Everything that was set up in the first album is cranked to eleven in the sequel. And not just in songwriting, riffage, aggression, or attitude. This is still Green Carnation, after all. The sad moments I felt with the first album are far more intense in the sequel. The riffs are harder than most of the songs the band has ever written, and the slower pieces have the emotion of a broken-hearted child. This is exactly what much of the lyrical content focuses on. If there ever was A Dark Poem by Green Carnation, Sanguis is it.

A Dark Poem, Part II: Sanguis by Green Carnation

The self-titled opener is simply one of the most epic on the disc. It picks up from where the previous album left off and slingshots you into a powerful new direction. Incorporating spacey effects with a headbangable groove and a soaring, melodic chorus, this nine-minute beauty sets the stage for what’s to come. When the rasps arrive at the halfway mark, the desperation in the clean vocals intensifies, bringing along that good ole Green Carnation sadness. But the moment it all seems to come to an end, it transitions once more, splashing every known color on the canvas as it builds, drawing all manner of moods through its dripping, streaking, and smattering visualizations. This track alone is worth the journey into Sanguis, but it’s only the beginning.

We take a step back into the warm embrace of calmness with the follow-up track, “Loneliness Untold, Loneliness Unfold.” Ripped straight from the cutting floor of Acoustic Verses, this gorgeous track is made even more special because it features Stein Roger Sordal on vocals. And, by god, can he stand up straight next to the mighty Kjetil Nordhus. The closer, “Lunar Tale,” is another in the same vein. Simplistic in approach (that’s really what makes it so powerful), it uses soft vocals and breathy flute to zap any happiness you might have in your current situation, and leave you battered, broken, and without hope. Another track worth mentioning explores some sounds of Green Carnation’s past. “Fire in Ice” is a nifty compilation of the band’s current era, smashed together with the rocking character of A Blessing in Disguise. Opening with some soothing clean guitars, it alternates between a classic groove and a bass/drum-led lull. Then, it erupts into a kickass riff that rocks the socks off my dick. This song incorporates the ferocity and beauty of Green Carnation better than any on the album.

Outside of some goofy progginess on the back half of “Sweet to the Point of Bitter,” Sanguis is arguably damn-near perfect. The opener conjures fist-pumping anger at the sky; “Fire in Ice” lets you stomp down everything that stands in your way; and “Loneliness Untold, Loneliness Unfold”1 is the emotional breakdown song we’ve needed all year. Toss in a handsomely dynamic master that lets even the smallest of morsels of melancholy rise to the surface, and you have something that is simply breathtaking for the band and the genre. If Green Carnation has never resonated with you, there is nothing I can do to change your mind. 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.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: greencarnationsom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/greencarnationnorway
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026