#apr26 — Public Fediverse posts

Gus G. is a busy man. For some odd 25 years and counting, the Greek guitarist has not only been running his own band Firewind but also contributed to many notable heavy/power metal acts’ beginnings, such as early Mystic Prophecy and Dream Evil. And somehow on top of that, he’s even managed to fit in five solo albums during that time! Steel Burner becomes the sixth album under the Gus G. moniker, the first since 2021’s very fun Quantum Leap. I was a big fan of Firewind’s energetic 2020 comeback and enjoyed 2024’s anthemic rock-oriented Stand United plenty as well. How does Steel Burner compare to his other recent works, and were any Steel Druhm’s harmed in the making?1

Gus has proven himself to be a very potent guitarist since the early ’00s, and Steel Burner’s strand of heavy metal offers a good general gist of the instrumental and solo craft he’s known for. The album doesn’t steer too far off Quantum Leap’s core in this regard. Gus’s natural bend towards ’80s rock and metal shows up in full force once again, containing Yngwie and Blackmore-esque guitar hero cheese (“What If,” “Closure”) in terms of both shred and soulful play. A surprising highlight is “Advent” with its interesting djent-ish influences by way of downtuned 2010s rhythm guitar work. It pans out much better than one might think and makes for a refreshing listen in an album full of otherwise expected source material.

The other side of Steel Burner is the record’s confusing flow and identity, the guest vocalist tracks being at odds with the instrumental songs. Whereas Quantum Leap was fully instrumental, Steel Burner contains a theoretically balanced set of five tracks with vocals and five instrumentals. This intentional variety quickly ends up working against itself. Doro (Doro, ex-Warlock) and Matt Barlow (ex-Iced Earth, ex-Pyramaze) are both starting to show their age, delivering some good lines but flat choruses (“Nothing Can Break Me,” “Dancing with Death”). The suddenly enervated instrumentation exacerbates the quality contrast between Steel Burner’s different aspects. Fortunately, the back half fares better. Vocal mercenaries Ronnie Romero (ex-Rainbow) and Dino Jelusić lend stronger performances on better, more AOR-adjacent tracks (“My Premonition,” “No One Has to Know”), and I wouldn’t mind Gus working with Ronnie more often based on “My Premonition.” Aside from the vocal-instrumental clash, the drums are a sticking point. Gus’s drum programming on the aforementioned tracks is solid, but Quantum Leap’s guest drumming proves that more varied and potent percussion would have helped make these songs much more lively.

Much like Jeff Waters (Annihilator), Gus G. is an excellent guitarist who is usually better when sharing vocals-forward songwriting reins with other people. Steel Burner tends to repeat some of his early-career hiccups with Mystic Prophecy, where the rhythm guitar tends to be underdeveloped and the songs oddly stripped-down without the choruses compensating for it. Gus is very good at crafting colorful instrumental compositions (“Advent,” “Confession”) or even standard power metal tracks at higher BPMs (“Kill the Pain” on Firewind’s self-titled, “Escape from Tomorrow” all the way back on Forged by Fire), but making a ‘normal’ mid-paced track with vocals often requires some extra hands alongside him. Firewind’s two most recent records are proof of this, and the positive effect of a consistent powerhouse vocalist like Herbie Langhans is undeniably lacking here.

Steel Burner has its bright spots, but ends up feeling like two EPs in a bar fight. It mashes together parts of Quantum Leap and Stand United, and both halves unfortunately suffer as a result. While nothing on the record is strictly off-putting, the instrumental side is clearly the better and more inspired one, containing the usual guitar goodness you would expect from Gus. Even so, one listen to Quantum Leap’s title track exposes Steel Burner’s general lack of urgency compared to prior works. Grab most of the instrumental tracks and “My Premonition,” and you’ve got a solid EP! Despite the overall experience being hit-and-miss, I still respect Gus’s work ethic, and I’ll be gladly waiting to see what he comes up with next.

Rating: Mixed
DR: Nope! | Format Reviewed: Alas, poor Stream!
Label: Metal Department
Websites: gusgofficial.com | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Sicarius hit the ground raging in 2017 when the Californian black metal upstarts released their scathingly vicious debut album, Serenade of Slitting Throats, which captured the metal heart of AMG’s Diabolus in Muzaka, earning a coveted 4.0. Sicarius’s sophomore effort, 2020’s God of Dead Roots, didn’t fare as well; the band, adjusting to the departure of founding guitarist Argyris, ultimately turned in a less visceral, more workmanlike product. Then, when original drummer Brandon Zackay left to focus on his career in Whitechapel, and the other members exited, both voluntarily and not, Sicarius ostensibly died, leaving God of Dead Roots an unanticipated swan song. Fast forward to 2024, when Argyris reunited with original bassist Carnage and joined forces with new vocalist Akéfalos and session drummer Levi Xvl to begin recording a third album, Nex, which, after six long years, has arrived to reintroduce this risen phoenix iteration of Sicarius to the masses.

Sicarius the resurrected doesn’t sound much different than Sicarius the dead. Nex adheres to the same modern black metal formula as its predecessors, maintaining channels of influence drawn from Dissection, Dark Funeral, Urgehal, and, despite Mick Kenney’s departure from the booth, Anaal Nathrakh. In keeping with their monikers’ Latin translation, Sicarius brings an assassin’s cache of weaponry to bear. Argyris sounds rejuvenated and lethal, his armory of blistering riffage (“Cold Death,” “No Witnesses”), chaotically tremolodic leads (“Nex”), and nifty solo work (“Crashing Into the Abyss”) on full display.1 Newcomer Akéfalos adds a layer of frigidity to Nex’s surgical, cold-steel across a warm-throat sound, his icy, high-pitched screeches a mix of Abbath and Hat from early Gorgoroth, while his low-bellied growls are reminiscent of Rotting Christ. Nex has the sound of a band pissed, Sicarius attempting to bury the remnants of what was for something altogether more destructive.

Nex by Sicarius

There’s no doubt Sicarius is exceptionally capable of speed, but for my money, I connected most with Nex’s melodies and mixed paces. Beginning with a brooding, tremoloed guitar melody, “Opened Obsidian Gateways” uses Sargeistian levels of repetition to drive its earwormy chord progressions home, a variation employed during the verses and identically replicated during the bridge before sliding into a nice, mid-song chug section and then back again. Simple yet effective, the song’s a highlight as I found myself humming the melody randomly throughout the day. Also noteworthy are the slow-moving melodic chords of “Banshee,” which gave off Dissection vibes, and the mid-paced marcher “The Hunger We Cannot Sate,” as it gallops along in true Watain fashion, instigating black-n-roll levels of head bobbery over its 5:24 runtime. There’s a lot of musical nuance woven into the details of Nex; my many play-throughs tell me as much, which makes it all the more disappointing that it’s so hard to hear them.

“With a (t)reble yell she cried, NO more, more, more.” I’ve taken some slight liberties with Mr. Idol’s classic lyric to illustrate Nex’s most glaring flaw: a thin, imbalanced mix. Nex sounds much louder than its DR score might suggest. Serenade of Slitting Throats, for instance, with a DR lower than Nex’s, sounds light years warmer because Kenney was able to give Serenade’s lower tones some weight. Nex is nearly devoid of low end, completely negating anything Carnage is doing on bass and robbing much of Levi Xvl’s bass drum work of power, making for an extremely exhausting experience. I had to break my focused listening sessions up, in fact, because trying to listen through all 44:10 of Nex’s runtime left me so audially spent that I was reaching for aspirin. Whether this was a deliberate choice, I don’t know. It sure lends Sicarius an icier-than-thou edge, as much black metal of this ilk is known for, but it really robbed a large portion of my enjoyment, which sucks because, in bite-sized pieces, Nex is actually a pretty decent album.

Sicarius has returned with a vengeance and a we’re-not-fucking-around attitude, as evidenced in no small part by that brutally distinctive cover art. Alongside other bands like Impious Throne, Unholy Altar and Wuldorgast, Sicarius is bringing a sense of menace back to the US black metal scene. Nex is an album worth spinning, despite being hampered by a production that makes it too tiring to listen to in a single sitting, which left me to score it thusly. Still, I’ll be keeping my eyes and ears peeled for the next outing.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Adirondack Black Mass | Bandcamp (album)
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 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