#apr26 — Public Fediverse posts

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

Grond – The Temple Review

Ten long years passed since Grond released Worship the Kraken, a fun and meaty slab of Bolt Thrower-meets-Autopsy-meets-Lovecraft…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #3.5 #Apr26 #autopsy #BoltThrower #Corpsessed #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #Entertainment #frozensoul #Grond #review #reviews #RussianMetal #SulphurAeon #TempleofVoid #TheTemple #XtreemMusic
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/627054/

Grond – The Temple Review

Ten long years passed since Grond released Worship the Kraken, a fun and meaty slab of Bolt Thrower-meets-Autopsy-meets-Lovecraft…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #3.5 #Apr26 #autopsy #BoltThrower #Corpsessed #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #Entertainment #frozensoul #Grond #review #reviews #RussianMetal #SulphurAeon #TempleofVoid #TheTemple #XtreemMusic
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/627054/

Ten long years passed since Grond released Worship the Kraken, a fun and meaty slab of Bolt Thrower-meets-Autopsy-meets-Lovecraft madness. With such a protracted lull in recording activity, I was sure there was never going to be another Grond record, but lo and behold, The Temple peeked above the horizon just enough for me to catch it on the approach. I quiver with anticipation to see what cosmic horrors await me there.

Grond is the same stomping monstrosity that left the world all those years ago, muscular and be-tentacled as ever. Their Bolt Thrower riffs and nasty bass tone still take center stage, ensuring that any listener’s face scrunches up in grotesque relief (“Weddigen,” “Submergence”). A Temple of Void-like doom/death shroud adorns The Temple in shadowed moods and ominous atmosphere, creating a vastness of scale and stature Worship the Kraken didn’t have (“U-29,” “Dreadnought”). Much like other modern old-school revival acts like Frozen Soul, simplicity is Grond’s best friend, choosing reliable parts and pieces of the death metal arsenal to ensure maximum impact in their songwriting. Thankfully, Grond’s high-fantasy horror theme, frightful guitar pyrotechnics in solos and flourishes (“Dreadnought”), and beefy production help set The Temple apart from contemporary examples of the style and make for a highly engaging 48 minutes.

At first, though, I wasn’t sure if The Temple justified its ten-year incubation period. It’s their slowest, their longest, and arguably their simplest record in terms of structure. I wondered if this meant it offered less substance or weaker engagement. I was wrong. Without sacrificing heft or extremity, Grond doubled down on accessibility and groove to make The Temple their most easily digestible outing thus far (“Pour le Merite,” “Radiant Fury”), but they made considerable effort using accessibility to their advantage. In place of compositional complexity, odd time signatures, or speed, wild lead guitar exhibitionism, gut-punching bass burbles, and clever drum fills abound. This trade, in turn, makes even the most straightforward cuts exciting and distinctive (“The Temple”). Furthermore, revisits uncover even more nifty details and entertaining embellishments—again sourced primarily from the guitar work—that bring depth and charm to The Temple for which initial impressions don’t account.

The Temple boasts many traits and nuances that not only make it a joy to return to, but also help shrink its inflated runtime, yet some areas could still use a trim. At a bloated six-and-a-half minutes, the title track only barely justifies its length with the strength of its guitar work, but would be stronger still with a full minute or so hacked off the first half for brevity. In fact, most of The Temple’s nine tracks toy with that ambitious six-minute barrier. While a vast majority of them don’t feel nearly that long, they all have at least one small grouping of measures that, if culled, wouldn’t detract from the compositions to which they belong (“Weddigen,” “Dark Solitude of the Sea,” “U-29”). Additionally, instrumental intro “Rotter Himmel” adds very little to the whole except to tumble right into the opener proper. At three minutes, it begs either to be nipped, tucked, and integrated into “Weddigen,” or to be cut altogether.

Aside from a spot of bloat, there’s a lot to enjoy in The Temple. It’s a rare kind of classically informed, doom-tinged, mid-paced death metal that grows with every spin. Grond achieved that grower status with their third LP, and it was worth the ten-year wait. It might not be a groundbreaking album, but competes well in its field and pairs very nicely with other Lovecraft-inspired death metal from the likes of Sulphur Aeon or Corpsessed. So if that’s your bag, Grond’s your monster. Choose your vessel, and enter the gate The Temple!

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: ~260 kbps VBR mp3
Label: XTreem Music
Websites: grond.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/grondrus
Releases Worldwide: April 30th, 2026

Ten long years passed since Grond released Worship the Kraken, a fun and meaty slab of Bolt Thrower-meets-Autopsy-meets-Lovecraft madness. With such a protracted lull in recording activity, I was sure there was never going to be another Grond record, but lo and behold, The Temple peeked above the horizon just enough for me to catch it on the approach. I quiver with anticipation to see what cosmic horrors await me there.

Grond is the same stomping monstrosity that left the world all those years ago, muscular and be-tentacled as ever. Their Bolt Thrower riffs and nasty bass tone still take center stage, ensuring that any listener’s face scrunches up in grotesque relief (“Weddigen,” “Submergence”). A Temple of Void-like doom/death shroud adorns The Temple in shadowed moods and ominous atmosphere, creating a vastness of scale and stature Worship the Kraken didn’t have (“U-29,” “Dreadnought”). Much like other modern old-school revival acts like Frozen Soul, simplicity is Grond’s best friend, choosing reliable parts and pieces of the death metal arsenal to ensure maximum impact in their songwriting. Thankfully, Grond’s high-fantasy horror theme, frightful guitar pyrotechnics in solos and flourishes (“Dreadnought”), and beefy production help set The Temple apart from contemporary examples of the style and make for a highly engaging 48 minutes.

At first, though, I wasn’t sure if The Temple justified its ten-year incubation period. It’s their slowest, their longest, and arguably their simplest record in terms of structure. I wondered if this meant it offered less substance or weaker engagement. I was wrong. Without sacrificing heft or extremity, Grond doubled down on accessibility and groove to make The Temple their most easily digestible outing thus far (“Pour le Merite,” “Radiant Fury”), but they made considerable effort using accessibility to their advantage. In place of compositional complexity, odd time signatures, or speed, wild lead guitar exhibitionism, gut-punching bass burbles, and clever drum fills abound. This trade, in turn, makes even the most straightforward cuts exciting and distinctive (“The Temple”). Furthermore, revisits uncover even more nifty details and entertaining embellishments—again sourced primarily from the guitar work—that bring depth and charm to The Temple for which initial impressions don’t account.

The Temple boasts many traits and nuances that not only make it a joy to return to, but also help shrink its inflated runtime, yet some areas could still use a trim. At a bloated six-and-a-half minutes, the title track only barely justifies its length with the strength of its guitar work, but would be stronger still with a full minute or so hacked off the first half for brevity. In fact, most of The Temple’s nine tracks toy with that ambitious six-minute barrier. While a vast majority of them don’t feel nearly that long, they all have at least one small grouping of measures that, if culled, wouldn’t detract from the compositions to which they belong (“Weddigen,” “Dark Solitude of the Sea,” “U-29”). Additionally, instrumental intro “Rotter Himmel” adds very little to the whole except to tumble right into the opener proper. At three minutes, it begs either to be nipped, tucked, and integrated into “Weddigen,” or to be cut altogether.

Aside from a spot of bloat, there’s a lot to enjoy in The Temple. It’s a rare kind of classically informed, doom-tinged, mid-paced death metal that grows with every spin. Grond achieved that grower status with their third LP, and it was worth the ten-year wait. It might not be a groundbreaking album, but competes well in its field and pairs very nicely with other Lovecraft-inspired death metal from the likes of Sulphur Aeon or Corpsessed. So if that’s your bag, Grond’s your monster. Choose your vessel, and enter the gate The Temple!

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: ~260 kbps VBR mp3
Label: XTreem Music
Websites: grond.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/grondrus
Releases Worldwide: April 30th, 2026

Ten long years passed since Grond released Worship the Kraken, a fun and meaty slab of Bolt Thrower-meets-Autopsy-meets-Lovecraft madness. With such a protracted lull in recording activity, I was sure there was never going to be another Grond record, but lo and behold, The Temple peeked above the horizon just enough for me to catch it on the approach. I quiver with anticipation to see what cosmic horrors await me there.

Grond is the same stomping monstrosity that left the world all those years ago, muscular and be-tentacled as ever. Their Bolt Thrower riffs and nasty bass tone still take center stage, ensuring that any listener’s face scrunches up in grotesque relief (“Weddigen,” “Submergence”). A Temple of Void-like doom/death shroud adorns The Temple in shadowed moods and ominous atmosphere, creating a vastness of scale and stature Worship the Kraken didn’t have (“U-29,” “Dreadnought”). Much like other modern old-school revival acts like Frozen Soul, simplicity is Grond’s best friend, choosing reliable parts and pieces of the death metal arsenal to ensure maximum impact in their songwriting. Thankfully, Grond’s high-fantasy horror theme, frightful guitar pyrotechnics in solos and flourishes (“Dreadnought”), and beefy production help set The Temple apart from contemporary examples of the style and make for a highly engaging 48 minutes.

At first, though, I wasn’t sure if The Temple justified its ten-year incubation period. It’s their slowest, their longest, and arguably their simplest record in terms of structure. I wondered if this meant it offered less substance or weaker engagement. I was wrong. Without sacrificing heft or extremity, Grond doubled down on accessibility and groove to make The Temple their most easily digestible outing thus far (“Pour le Merite,” “Radiant Fury”), but they made considerable effort using accessibility to their advantage. In place of compositional complexity, odd time signatures, or speed, wild lead guitar exhibitionism, gut-punching bass burbles, and clever drum fills abound. This trade, in turn, makes even the most straightforward cuts exciting and distinctive (“The Temple”). Furthermore, revisits uncover even more nifty details and entertaining embellishments—again sourced primarily from the guitar work—that bring depth and charm to The Temple for which initial impressions don’t account.

The Temple boasts many traits and nuances that not only make it a joy to return to, but also help shrink its inflated runtime, yet some areas could still use a trim. At a bloated six-and-a-half minutes, the title track only barely justifies its length with the strength of its guitar work, but would be stronger still with a full minute or so hacked off the first half for brevity. In fact, most of The Temple’s nine tracks toy with that ambitious six-minute barrier. While a vast majority of them don’t feel nearly that long, they all have at least one small grouping of measures that, if culled, wouldn’t detract from the compositions to which they belong (“Weddigen,” “Dark Solitude of the Sea,” “U-29”). Additionally, instrumental intro “Rotter Himmel” adds very little to the whole except to tumble right into the opener proper. At three minutes, it begs either to be nipped, tucked, and integrated into “Weddigen,” or to be cut altogether.

Aside from a spot of bloat, there’s a lot to enjoy in The Temple. It’s a rare kind of classically informed, doom-tinged, mid-paced death metal that grows with every spin. Grond achieved that grower status with their third LP, and it was worth the ten-year wait. It might not be a groundbreaking album, but competes well in its field and pairs very nicely with other Lovecraft-inspired death metal from the likes of Sulphur Aeon or Corpsessed. So if that’s your bag, Grond’s your monster. Choose your vessel, and enter the gate The Temple!

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: ~260 kbps VBR mp3
Label: XTreem Music
Websites: grond.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/grondrus
Releases Worldwide: April 30th, 2026

Ten long years passed since Grond released Worship the Kraken, a fun and meaty slab of Bolt Thrower-meets-Autopsy-meets-Lovecraft madness. With such a protracted lull in recording activity, I was sure there was never going to be another Grond record, but lo and behold, The Temple peeked above the horizon just enough for me to catch it on the approach. I quiver with anticipation to see what cosmic horrors await me there.

Grond is the same stomping monstrosity that left the world all those years ago, muscular and be-tentacled as ever. Their Bolt Thrower riffs and nasty bass tone still take center stage, ensuring that any listener’s face scrunches up in grotesque relief (“Weddigen,” “Submergence”). A Temple of Void-like doom/death shroud adorns The Temple in shadowed moods and ominous atmosphere, creating a vastness of scale and stature Worship the Kraken didn’t have (“U-29,” “Dreadnought”). Much like other modern old-school revival acts like Frozen Soul, simplicity is Grond’s best friend, choosing reliable parts and pieces of the death metal arsenal to ensure maximum impact in their songwriting. Thankfully, Grond’s high-fantasy horror theme, frightful guitar pyrotechnics in solos and flourishes (“Dreadnought”), and beefy production help set The Temple apart from contemporary examples of the style and make for a highly engaging 48 minutes.

At first, though, I wasn’t sure if The Temple justified its ten-year incubation period. It’s their slowest, their longest, and arguably their simplest record in terms of structure. I wondered if this meant it offered less substance or weaker engagement. I was wrong. Without sacrificing heft or extremity, Grond doubled down on accessibility and groove to make The Temple their most easily digestible outing thus far (“Pour le Merite,” “Radiant Fury”), but they made considerable effort using accessibility to their advantage. In place of compositional complexity, odd time signatures, or speed, wild lead guitar exhibitionism, gut-punching bass burbles, and clever drum fills abound. This trade, in turn, makes even the most straightforward cuts exciting and distinctive (“The Temple”). Furthermore, revisits uncover even more nifty details and entertaining embellishments—again sourced primarily from the guitar work—that bring depth and charm to The Temple for which initial impressions don’t account.

The Temple boasts many traits and nuances that not only make it a joy to return to, but also help shrink its inflated runtime, yet some areas could still use a trim. At a bloated six-and-a-half minutes, the title track only barely justifies its length with the strength of its guitar work, but would be stronger still with a full minute or so hacked off the first half for brevity. In fact, most of The Temple’s nine tracks toy with that ambitious six-minute barrier. While a vast majority of them don’t feel nearly that long, they all have at least one small grouping of measures that, if culled, wouldn’t detract from the compositions to which they belong (“Weddigen,” “Dark Solitude of the Sea,” “U-29”). Additionally, instrumental intro “Rotter Himmel” adds very little to the whole except to tumble right into the opener proper. At three minutes, it begs either to be nipped, tucked, and integrated into “Weddigen,” or to be cut altogether.

Aside from a spot of bloat, there’s a lot to enjoy in The Temple. It’s a rare kind of classically informed, doom-tinged, mid-paced death metal that grows with every spin. Grond achieved that grower status with their third LP, and it was worth the ten-year wait. It might not be a groundbreaking album, but competes well in its field and pairs very nicely with other Lovecraft-inspired death metal from the likes of Sulphur Aeon or Corpsessed. So if that’s your bag, Grond’s your monster. Choose your vessel, and enter the gate The Temple!

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: ~260 kbps VBR mp3
Label: XTreem Music
Websites: grond.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/grondrus
Releases Worldwide: April 30th, 2026

Ten long years passed since Grond released Worship the Kraken, a fun and meaty slab of Bolt Thrower-meets-Autopsy-meets-Lovecraft madness. With such a protracted lull in recording activity, I was sure there was never going to be another Grond record, but lo and behold, The Temple peeked above the horizon just enough for me to catch it on the approach. I quiver with anticipation to see what cosmic horrors await me there.

Grond is the same stomping monstrosity that left the world all those years ago, muscular and be-tentacled as ever. Their Bolt Thrower riffs and nasty bass tone still take center stage, ensuring that any listener’s face scrunches up in grotesque relief (“Weddigen,” “Submergence”). A Temple of Void-like doom/death shroud adorns The Temple in shadowed moods and ominous atmosphere, creating a vastness of scale and stature Worship the Kraken didn’t have (“U-29,” “Dreadnought”). Much like other modern old-school revival acts like Frozen Soul, simplicity is Grond’s best friend, choosing reliable parts and pieces of the death metal arsenal to ensure maximum impact in their songwriting. Thankfully, Grond’s high-fantasy horror theme, frightful guitar pyrotechnics in solos and flourishes (“Dreadnought”), and beefy production help set The Temple apart from contemporary examples of the style and make for a highly engaging 48 minutes.

At first, though, I wasn’t sure if The Temple justified its ten-year incubation period. It’s their slowest, their longest, and arguably their simplest record in terms of structure. I wondered if this meant it offered less substance or weaker engagement. I was wrong. Without sacrificing heft or extremity, Grond doubled down on accessibility and groove to make The Temple their most easily digestible outing thus far (“Pour le Merite,” “Radiant Fury”), but they made considerable effort using accessibility to their advantage. In place of compositional complexity, odd time signatures, or speed, wild lead guitar exhibitionism, gut-punching bass burbles, and clever drum fills abound. This trade, in turn, makes even the most straightforward cuts exciting and distinctive (“The Temple”). Furthermore, revisits uncover even more nifty details and entertaining embellishments—again sourced primarily from the guitar work—that bring depth and charm to The Temple for which initial impressions don’t account.

The Temple boasts many traits and nuances that not only make it a joy to return to, but also help shrink its inflated runtime, yet some areas could still use a trim. At a bloated six-and-a-half minutes, the title track only barely justifies its length with the strength of its guitar work, but would be stronger still with a full minute or so hacked off the first half for brevity. In fact, most of The Temple’s nine tracks toy with that ambitious six-minute barrier. While a vast majority of them don’t feel nearly that long, they all have at least one small grouping of measures that, if culled, wouldn’t detract from the compositions to which they belong (“Weddigen,” “Dark Solitude of the Sea,” “U-29”). Additionally, instrumental intro “Rotter Himmel” adds very little to the whole except to tumble right into the opener proper. At three minutes, it begs either to be nipped, tucked, and integrated into “Weddigen,” or to be cut altogether.

Aside from a spot of bloat, there’s a lot to enjoy in The Temple. It’s a rare kind of classically informed, doom-tinged, mid-paced death metal that grows with every spin. Grond achieved that grower status with their third LP, and it was worth the ten-year wait. It might not be a groundbreaking album, but competes well in its field and pairs very nicely with other Lovecraft-inspired death metal from the likes of Sulphur Aeon or Corpsessed. So if that’s your bag, Grond’s your monster. Choose your vessel, and enter the gate The Temple!

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: ~260 kbps VBR mp3
Label: XTreem Music
Websites: grond.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/grondrus
Releases Worldwide: April 30th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/ie/466814/ Gus G. – Steel Burner Review #25 #2026 #Annihilator #AOR #Apr26 #Doro #DreamEvil #Éire #Entertainment #Firewind #GreekMetal #GusG #HardRock #HeavyMetal #IcedEarth #IE #Ireland #MetalDepartment #Music #MysticProphecy #Pyramaze #rainbow #Review #Reviews #SteelBurner #Warlock

Gus G. – Steel Burner Review

Gus G. is a busy man. For some odd 25 years and counting, the Greek guitarist has not…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2.5 #2026 #Annihilator #aor #Apr26 #Doro #DreamEvil #Entertainment #Firewind #GreekMetal #GusG. #HardRock #HeavyMetal #IcedEarth #MetalDepartment #MysticProphecy #Pyramaze #Rainbow #review #reviews #SteelBurner #Warlock
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Gus G. – Steel Burner Review

Gus G. is a busy man. For some odd 25 years and counting, the Greek guitarist has not…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2.5 #2026 #Annihilator #aor #Apr26 #Doro #DreamEvil #Entertainment #Firewind #GreekMetal #GusG. #HardRock #HeavyMetal #IcedEarth #MetalDepartment #MysticProphecy #Pyramaze #Rainbow #review #reviews #SteelBurner #Warlock
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Gus G. – Steel Burner Review

Gus G. is a busy man. For some odd 25 years and counting, the Greek guitarist has not…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #Annihilator #AOR #Apr26 #AU #Australia #Doro #DreamEvil #Entertainment #Firewind #GreekMetal #GusG. #HardRock #HeavyMetal #icedearth #MetalDepartment #MysticProphecy #Pyramaze #rainbow #review #reviews #SteelBurner #Warlock
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/647274/

Gus G. – Steel Burner Review

Gus G. is a busy man. For some odd 25 years and counting, the Greek guitarist has not…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #Annihilator #AOR #Apr26 #AU #Australia #Doro #DreamEvil #Entertainment #Firewind #GreekMetal #GusG. #HardRock #HeavyMetal #icedearth #MetalDepartment #MysticProphecy #Pyramaze #rainbow #review #reviews #SteelBurner #Warlock
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/647274/

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

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

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

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

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

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

With a name like that and an album cover featuring a vivisected human head, you’d be forgiven for thinking that Nequient play a form of knuckle-dragging brutal death. Instead, the Chicago four-piece specializes in a brand of chaotic, grinding metallic hardcore that recalls the frenetic math explosion of the early 2000s. Avarice is the band’s third full-length and promises a “unique synthesis of extreme metal and hardcore” to “blast listeners out of complacency with withering screeds against the malignant forces ravaging our world.” Despite some solid releases from last year, it’s been a while since new mathcore shook me to the bone and reminded me of modern existence’s inherent fragility. Nequient have the requisite political bile coursing through their veins—the same volatile fuel that powers the genre’s most unhinged eruptions—but is Avarice actually worth your time, or just another flailing heap of panic chords destined to suffocate beneath a pile of white-belt-era clichés?

On Avarice, Nequient paints an anarchic arras with a dizzying amount of stylistic touchstones. The band combines the unhinged frivolity of The Sawtooth Grin with the fast-paced stop/start violence of The HIRS Collective, and loads their tracks with riffs that actually stick, echoing early Converge at their most surgical. The twist? These songs feel coherent. Longer runtimes turn what could be scattershot spasms into fully realized compositions, bolstered by a wide palette of metallic textures. Blackened tremolos (“Christofascist Zombie Brigade”), demented odd-meter thrash gallops (“Brain Worms”), and sludged-out funeral dirges (“Splenetic And Moribund”) are all threaded together with mathy convulsions Nequient execute with unnerving precision. Throughout the record, the band moves between ideas at a dizzying pace, consistently impressing with bewildering moments of aural chaos.

More than just a collection of moments, the songs on Avarice are propelled by relentless pacing and tangible chemistry among the band members. Nequient’s secret sauce lies in the interplay between Patrick Conahan’s disorienting guitar cascades and drummer Chris Avgerin’s dextrous, fill-heavy style. Conahan glides between mosh-ready grind parts (“Mad King / Fool”), undulating, deathy descents (“Rintrah Roars”), and unsettling noise-rock lurches (“Siege Mentality”). Avergin follows along expertly, always mirroring the spastic guitarwork with tasty, intuitive drum parts that guide the ear and ground the anarchy. Aaron Roeming provides the low-end thunder and adds a purposeful heft that thickens the chunkier riffcraft while vocalist Jason Kolkey leads the charge, alternating between a sassy, vitriolic spew and full-bodied death growls while delivering caustic epithets about the horrors of modern life. Kolkey’s acerbic lyrics pull the whole disgusting package together, melding poetic death metal abstraction with punk’s immediacy and sharpening the record’s nihilistic aura into a potent weapon aimed at a broken system.

In fact, Nequient is almost too adept at channeling the noxious undercurrent of societal id, leaving precious little room to breathe across Avarice’s full-frontal assault. Longer tracks usually ease up on the throttle and inject variety with less frantic, slower sections, like with a menacing sludge-into-breakdown (“Rintrah Roars”), or a hazy, chordal comedown (“Stochastic Terror”). Still, I find myself wanting just a touch more space to find my bearings during full-album listens. Avarice is well-paced, and there are more than enough ideas to keep the 40-minute runtime interesting, but it’s missing one or two blissed-out melodic ideas1 or jaw-dropping displays of contrast to elevate it to the peak of the mathcore mountain. This doesn’t prevent Avarice from being a stunning display of technical aggression, but it does mean more than a few spins to decipher its labyrinthine heaviness.

Nequient really impressed me with this one. Avarice is a nerve-flayed, teeth-grinding listen that captures the low-grade panic and spiritual exhaustion of modern life with alarming precision. Rather than settling for dime-a-dozen mathcore spasms or rote metallic bludgeoning, the Chicago crew stitches together dissonance, groove, chaos, and razor-wire technicality into something far more purposeful. It’s punishing without being empty, intricate without disappearing up its own ass, and memorable enough to demand repeat spins. If you’re craving chaotic metallic extremity that does more than regurgitate the usual suspects, Nequient have your number.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nefarious Industries
Websites: nequient.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/nequient.band
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

With a name like that and an album cover featuring a vivisected human head, you’d be forgiven for thinking that Nequient play a form of knuckle-dragging brutal death. Instead, the Chicago four-piece specializes in a brand of chaotic, grinding metallic hardcore that recalls the frenetic math explosion of the early 2000s. Avarice is the band’s third full-length and promises a “unique synthesis of extreme metal and hardcore” to “blast listeners out of complacency with withering screeds against the malignant forces ravaging our world.” Despite some solid releases from last year, it’s been a while since new mathcore shook me to the bone and reminded me of modern existence’s inherent fragility. Nequient have the requisite political bile coursing through their veins—the same volatile fuel that powers the genre’s most unhinged eruptions—but is Avarice actually worth your time, or just another flailing heap of panic chords destined to suffocate beneath a pile of white-belt-era clichés?

On Avarice, Nequient paints an anarchic arras with a dizzying amount of stylistic touchstones. The band combines the unhinged frivolity of The Sawtooth Grin with the fast-paced stop/start violence of The HIRS Collective, and loads their tracks with riffs that actually stick, echoing early Converge at their most surgical. The twist? These songs feel coherent. Longer runtimes turn what could be scattershot spasms into fully realized compositions, bolstered by a wide palette of metallic textures. Blackened tremolos (“Christofascist Zombie Brigade”), demented odd-meter thrash gallops (“Brain Worms”), and sludged-out funeral dirges (“Splenetic And Moribund”) are all threaded together with mathy convulsions Nequient execute with unnerving precision. Throughout the record, the band moves between ideas at a dizzying pace, consistently impressing with bewildering moments of aural chaos.

More than just a collection of moments, the songs on Avarice are propelled by relentless pacing and tangible chemistry among the band members. Nequient’s secret sauce lies in the interplay between Patrick Conahan’s disorienting guitar cascades and drummer Chris Avgerin’s dextrous, fill-heavy style. Conahan glides between mosh-ready grind parts (“Mad King / Fool”), undulating, deathy descents (“Rintrah Roars”), and unsettling noise-rock lurches (“Siege Mentality”). Avergin follows along expertly, always mirroring the spastic guitarwork with tasty, intuitive drum parts that guide the ear and ground the anarchy. Aaron Roeming provides the low-end thunder and adds a purposeful heft that thickens the chunkier riffcraft while vocalist Jason Kolkey leads the charge, alternating between a sassy, vitriolic spew and full-bodied death growls while delivering caustic epithets about the horrors of modern life. Kolkey’s acerbic lyrics pull the whole disgusting package together, melding poetic death metal abstraction with punk’s immediacy and sharpening the record’s nihilistic aura into a potent weapon aimed at a broken system.

In fact, Nequient is almost too adept at channeling the noxious undercurrent of societal id, leaving precious little room to breathe across Avarice’s full-frontal assault. Longer tracks usually ease up on the throttle and inject variety with less frantic, slower sections, like with a menacing sludge-into-breakdown (“Rintrah Roars”), or a hazy, chordal comedown (“Stochastic Terror”). Still, I find myself wanting just a touch more space to find my bearings during full-album listens. Avarice is well-paced, and there are more than enough ideas to keep the 40-minute runtime interesting, but it’s missing one or two blissed-out melodic ideas1 or jaw-dropping displays of contrast to elevate it to the peak of the mathcore mountain. This doesn’t prevent Avarice from being a stunning display of technical aggression, but it does mean more than a few spins to decipher its labyrinthine heaviness.

Nequient really impressed me with this one. Avarice is a nerve-flayed, teeth-grinding listen that captures the low-grade panic and spiritual exhaustion of modern life with alarming precision. Rather than settling for dime-a-dozen mathcore spasms or rote metallic bludgeoning, the Chicago crew stitches together dissonance, groove, chaos, and razor-wire technicality into something far more purposeful. It’s punishing without being empty, intricate without disappearing up its own ass, and memorable enough to demand repeat spins. If you’re craving chaotic metallic extremity that does more than regurgitate the usual suspects, Nequient have your number.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nefarious Industries
Websites: nequient.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/nequient.band
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

With a name like that and an album cover featuring a vivisected human head, you’d be forgiven for thinking that Nequient play a form of knuckle-dragging brutal death. Instead, the Chicago four-piece specializes in a brand of chaotic, grinding metallic hardcore that recalls the frenetic math explosion of the early 2000s. Avarice is the band’s third full-length and promises a “unique synthesis of extreme metal and hardcore” to “blast listeners out of complacency with withering screeds against the malignant forces ravaging our world.” Despite some solid releases from last year, it’s been a while since new mathcore shook me to the bone and reminded me of modern existence’s inherent fragility. Nequient have the requisite political bile coursing through their veins—the same volatile fuel that powers the genre’s most unhinged eruptions—but is Avarice actually worth your time, or just another flailing heap of panic chords destined to suffocate beneath a pile of white-belt-era clichés?

On Avarice, Nequient paints an anarchic arras with a dizzying amount of stylistic touchstones. The band combines the unhinged frivolity of The Sawtooth Grin with the fast-paced stop/start violence of The HIRS Collective, and loads their tracks with riffs that actually stick, echoing early Converge at their most surgical. The twist? These songs feel coherent. Longer runtimes turn what could be scattershot spasms into fully realized compositions, bolstered by a wide palette of metallic textures. Blackened tremolos (“Christofascist Zombie Brigade”), demented odd-meter thrash gallops (“Brain Worms”), and sludged-out funeral dirges (“Splenetic And Moribund”) are all threaded together with mathy convulsions Nequient execute with unnerving precision. Throughout the record, the band moves between ideas at a dizzying pace, consistently impressing with bewildering moments of aural chaos.

More than just a collection of moments, the songs on Avarice are propelled by relentless pacing and tangible chemistry among the band members. Nequient’s secret sauce lies in the interplay between Patrick Conahan’s disorienting guitar cascades and drummer Chris Avgerin’s dextrous, fill-heavy style. Conahan glides between mosh-ready grind parts (“Mad King / Fool”), undulating, deathy descents (“Rintrah Roars”), and unsettling noise-rock lurches (“Siege Mentality”). Avergin follows along expertly, always mirroring the spastic guitarwork with tasty, intuitive drum parts that guide the ear and ground the anarchy. Aaron Roeming provides the low-end thunder and adds a purposeful heft that thickens the chunkier riffcraft while vocalist Jason Kolkey leads the charge, alternating between a sassy, vitriolic spew and full-bodied death growls while delivering caustic epithets about the horrors of modern life. Kolkey’s acerbic lyrics pull the whole disgusting package together, melding poetic death metal abstraction with punk’s immediacy and sharpening the record’s nihilistic aura into a potent weapon aimed at a broken system.

In fact, Nequient is almost too adept at channeling the noxious undercurrent of societal id, leaving precious little room to breathe across Avarice’s full-frontal assault. Longer tracks usually ease up on the throttle and inject variety with less frantic, slower sections, like with a menacing sludge-into-breakdown (“Rintrah Roars”), or a hazy, chordal comedown (“Stochastic Terror”). Still, I find myself wanting just a touch more space to find my bearings during full-album listens. Avarice is well-paced, and there are more than enough ideas to keep the 40-minute runtime interesting, but it’s missing one or two blissed-out melodic ideas1 or jaw-dropping displays of contrast to elevate it to the peak of the mathcore mountain. This doesn’t prevent Avarice from being a stunning display of technical aggression, but it does mean more than a few spins to decipher its labyrinthine heaviness.

Nequient really impressed me with this one. Avarice is a nerve-flayed, teeth-grinding listen that captures the low-grade panic and spiritual exhaustion of modern life with alarming precision. Rather than settling for dime-a-dozen mathcore spasms or rote metallic bludgeoning, the Chicago crew stitches together dissonance, groove, chaos, and razor-wire technicality into something far more purposeful. It’s punishing without being empty, intricate without disappearing up its own ass, and memorable enough to demand repeat spins. If you’re craving chaotic metallic extremity that does more than regurgitate the usual suspects, Nequient have your number.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nefarious Industries
Websites: nequient.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/nequient.band
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

With a name like that and an album cover featuring a vivisected human head, you’d be forgiven for thinking that Nequient play a form of knuckle-dragging brutal death. Instead, the Chicago four-piece specializes in a brand of chaotic, grinding metallic hardcore that recalls the frenetic math explosion of the early 2000s. Avarice is the band’s third full-length and promises a “unique synthesis of extreme metal and hardcore” to “blast listeners out of complacency with withering screeds against the malignant forces ravaging our world.” Despite some solid releases from last year, it’s been a while since new mathcore shook me to the bone and reminded me of modern existence’s inherent fragility. Nequient have the requisite political bile coursing through their veins—the same volatile fuel that powers the genre’s most unhinged eruptions—but is Avarice actually worth your time, or just another flailing heap of panic chords destined to suffocate beneath a pile of white-belt-era clichés?

On Avarice, Nequient paints an anarchic arras with a dizzying amount of stylistic touchstones. The band combines the unhinged frivolity of The Sawtooth Grin with the fast-paced stop/start violence of The HIRS Collective, and loads their tracks with riffs that actually stick, echoing early Converge at their most surgical. The twist? These songs feel coherent. Longer runtimes turn what could be scattershot spasms into fully realized compositions, bolstered by a wide palette of metallic textures. Blackened tremolos (“Christofascist Zombie Brigade”), demented odd-meter thrash gallops (“Brain Worms”), and sludged-out funeral dirges (“Splenetic And Moribund”) are all threaded together with mathy convulsions Nequient execute with unnerving precision. Throughout the record, the band moves between ideas at a dizzying pace, consistently impressing with bewildering moments of aural chaos.

More than just a collection of moments, the songs on Avarice are propelled by relentless pacing and tangible chemistry among the band members. Nequient’s secret sauce lies in the interplay between Patrick Conahan’s disorienting guitar cascades and drummer Chris Avgerin’s dextrous, fill-heavy style. Conahan glides between mosh-ready grind parts (“Mad King / Fool”), undulating, deathy descents (“Rintrah Roars”), and unsettling noise-rock lurches (“Siege Mentality”). Avergin follows along expertly, always mirroring the spastic guitarwork with tasty, intuitive drum parts that guide the ear and ground the anarchy. Aaron Roeming provides the low-end thunder and adds a purposeful heft that thickens the chunkier riffcraft while vocalist Jason Kolkey leads the charge, alternating between a sassy, vitriolic spew and full-bodied death growls while delivering caustic epithets about the horrors of modern life. Kolkey’s acerbic lyrics pull the whole disgusting package together, melding poetic death metal abstraction with punk’s immediacy and sharpening the record’s nihilistic aura into a potent weapon aimed at a broken system.

In fact, Nequient is almost too adept at channeling the noxious undercurrent of societal id, leaving precious little room to breathe across Avarice’s full-frontal assault. Longer tracks usually ease up on the throttle and inject variety with less frantic, slower sections, like with a menacing sludge-into-breakdown (“Rintrah Roars”), or a hazy, chordal comedown (“Stochastic Terror”). Still, I find myself wanting just a touch more space to find my bearings during full-album listens. Avarice is well-paced, and there are more than enough ideas to keep the 40-minute runtime interesting, but it’s missing one or two blissed-out melodic ideas1 or jaw-dropping displays of contrast to elevate it to the peak of the mathcore mountain. This doesn’t prevent Avarice from being a stunning display of technical aggression, but it does mean more than a few spins to decipher its labyrinthine heaviness.

Nequient really impressed me with this one. Avarice is a nerve-flayed, teeth-grinding listen that captures the low-grade panic and spiritual exhaustion of modern life with alarming precision. Rather than settling for dime-a-dozen mathcore spasms or rote metallic bludgeoning, the Chicago crew stitches together dissonance, groove, chaos, and razor-wire technicality into something far more purposeful. It’s punishing without being empty, intricate without disappearing up its own ass, and memorable enough to demand repeat spins. If you’re craving chaotic metallic extremity that does more than regurgitate the usual suspects, Nequient have your number.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nefarious Industries
Websites: nequient.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/nequient.band
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

With a name like that and an album cover featuring a vivisected human head, you’d be forgiven for thinking that Nequient play a form of knuckle-dragging brutal death. Instead, the Chicago four-piece specializes in a brand of chaotic, grinding metallic hardcore that recalls the frenetic math explosion of the early 2000s. Avarice is the band’s third full-length and promises a “unique synthesis of extreme metal and hardcore” to “blast listeners out of complacency with withering screeds against the malignant forces ravaging our world.” Despite some solid releases from last year, it’s been a while since new mathcore shook me to the bone and reminded me of modern existence’s inherent fragility. Nequient have the requisite political bile coursing through their veins—the same volatile fuel that powers the genre’s most unhinged eruptions—but is Avarice actually worth your time, or just another flailing heap of panic chords destined to suffocate beneath a pile of white-belt-era clichés?

On Avarice, Nequient paints an anarchic arras with a dizzying amount of stylistic touchstones. The band combines the unhinged frivolity of The Sawtooth Grin with the fast-paced stop/start violence of The HIRS Collective, and loads their tracks with riffs that actually stick, echoing early Converge at their most surgical. The twist? These songs feel coherent. Longer runtimes turn what could be scattershot spasms into fully realized compositions, bolstered by a wide palette of metallic textures. Blackened tremolos (“Christofascist Zombie Brigade”), demented odd-meter thrash gallops (“Brain Worms”), and sludged-out funeral dirges (“Splenetic And Moribund”) are all threaded together with mathy convulsions Nequient execute with unnerving precision. Throughout the record, the band moves between ideas at a dizzying pace, consistently impressing with bewildering moments of aural chaos.

More than just a collection of moments, the songs on Avarice are propelled by relentless pacing and tangible chemistry among the band members. Nequient’s secret sauce lies in the interplay between Patrick Conahan’s disorienting guitar cascades and drummer Chris Avgerin’s dextrous, fill-heavy style. Conahan glides between mosh-ready grind parts (“Mad King / Fool”), undulating, deathy descents (“Rintrah Roars”), and unsettling noise-rock lurches (“Siege Mentality”). Avergin follows along expertly, always mirroring the spastic guitarwork with tasty, intuitive drum parts that guide the ear and ground the anarchy. Aaron Roeming provides the low-end thunder and adds a purposeful heft that thickens the chunkier riffcraft while vocalist Jason Kolkey leads the charge, alternating between a sassy, vitriolic spew and full-bodied death growls while delivering caustic epithets about the horrors of modern life. Kolkey’s acerbic lyrics pull the whole disgusting package together, melding poetic death metal abstraction with punk’s immediacy and sharpening the record’s nihilistic aura into a potent weapon aimed at a broken system.

In fact, Nequient is almost too adept at channeling the noxious undercurrent of societal id, leaving precious little room to breathe across Avarice’s full-frontal assault. Longer tracks usually ease up on the throttle and inject variety with less frantic, slower sections, like with a menacing sludge-into-breakdown (“Rintrah Roars”), or a hazy, chordal comedown (“Stochastic Terror”). Still, I find myself wanting just a touch more space to find my bearings during full-album listens. Avarice is well-paced, and there are more than enough ideas to keep the 40-minute runtime interesting, but it’s missing one or two blissed-out melodic ideas1 or jaw-dropping displays of contrast to elevate it to the peak of the mathcore mountain. This doesn’t prevent Avarice from being a stunning display of technical aggression, but it does mean more than a few spins to decipher its labyrinthine heaviness.

Nequient really impressed me with this one. Avarice is a nerve-flayed, teeth-grinding listen that captures the low-grade panic and spiritual exhaustion of modern life with alarming precision. Rather than settling for dime-a-dozen mathcore spasms or rote metallic bludgeoning, the Chicago crew stitches together dissonance, groove, chaos, and razor-wire technicality into something far more purposeful. It’s punishing without being empty, intricate without disappearing up its own ass, and memorable enough to demand repeat spins. If you’re craving chaotic metallic extremity that does more than regurgitate the usual suspects, Nequient have your number.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nefarious Industries
Websites: nequient.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/nequient.band
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Maybe war never changes, but Warside has. Between releasing inaugural EP The Enemy Inside, and recording their debut, three of Warside’s five members left the band. Now a quartet, the Lyon, France collective tromps into the death metal arena, brandishing Cognitive Extinction, their first long play. Down a guitarist, Warside reports Cognitive Extinction as having ‘a rawer, more direct sound.’ Though The Enemy Inside can’t be classified as polished or subtle, Cognitive Extinction embraces an even leaner, meaner aggression through twenty-eight minutes. Additionally, Warside weaves a broad theme into the album—the erosion of intelligence and critical thinking due to the proliferation of screens and dependence on technology. It’s an increasingly relevant theme in these crazy times, but is Warside’s warning enough to keep listeners’ gray matter from atrophying into pudding?

Though simply billed as ‘death metal,’ Warside skews towards the technical end of the spectrum. Dying Fetus, Misery Index, and Vomitory are cited as influences in the promo materials, and while elements of those bands exist on Cognitive Extinction,1 I also hear the frantic immediacy of Benighted and Aborted enmeshed with the tech-heavy grooves of more recent Cryptopsy and Suffocation. Technical without falling into technical death metal territory and bruising without earning a brutal death metal tag, Warside toes the line between extreme metal subgenres without fully committing to any specific one. Rather than wavering or wandering, though, Cognitive Extinction sounds confident, direct, and ready to peel your skull back to get a look at your cognition firsthand.

Despite adding some new members and shuffling guitar duties, Warside launches a savage assault that never relents. Returning from The Enemy Within, guitarist Vincent Morelle resumes six-string duties on Cognitive Extinction while former guitarist Jérôme dons the mantle of bassist. Joining them are duo Mathieu (vocals) and Thô (drums) from deathgrind project Festering Process, and together this foursome unleashes barrage after barrage of merciless death metal thunder. Tracks “Neurocide” and “Invasive Thoughts” meld Morbid Angel’s wicked melodies with Nile’s violent velocity, frequently coaxing involuntary stank-face. “Visceral” punches with Suffocation’s might, windmilling between stutter-stop leads and kick drum cannonades, while “Thirst for Rot” dive bombs into an early solo before hitting a swarthy Cryptopsy-meets-Decapitated groove. Throughout, Mathieu discharges fierce gutturals that remind me of Benighted’s Julien Truchan,2 primal and bloodthirsty without ever going full BREEE. All told, kinetic hooks, furious blast beats, and husky bass grooves carry the momentum of each track, with feverish solos offering brief detours from Warside’s otherwise unyielding onslaught.

Warside evokes death metal titans throughout Cognitive Extinction, yet clinging too tightly to these touchstones prevents them from fully realizing an identity of their own. In fairness, Cognitive Extinction works cohesively, with a consistent aural context that’s as bludgeoning as it is swift. And even though Warside sidesteps critical flaws, hooking an overcrowded niche with deathly wares can be a significant challenge. Genre greats can provide a strong template for writing compelling music, but emulation without innovation risks giving listeners an experience that drives them back to inspirations. Said simply, bands with unique sounds become reference points, while others get buried beneath the sands of time. In this regard, Cognitive Extinction feels like a half measure, where a blend of influences comes together to form a coherent album, yet lacks a wholly original voice.

Standout performances and sharp, economical songwriting distinguish Warside as an act I’ll follow closely, and help achieve a portion of the identity they need. Cognitive Extinction teems with talent and promise, and despite the abysmal dynamic range,3 the mix is well-balanced and allows listeners to appreciate what Warside does within its runtime. I’ve greatly enjoyed my time with Cognitive Extinction, and a couple of its gems have helped add some weight to my Heavy Moves Heavy ’26 playlist, but with so many killer death metal albums out this year, I’m unsure what lasting impact it’ll have. Time will tell, and in the meantime, I hope that Warside continues honing their blades to keep minds and interest sharp.

Rating: Good!
DR: 3 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Gruesome Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

Maybe war never changes, but Warside has. Between releasing inaugural EP The Enemy Inside, and recording their debut, three of Warside’s five members left the band. Now a quartet, the Lyon, France collective tromps into the death metal arena, brandishing Cognitive Extinction, their first long play. Down a guitarist, Warside reports Cognitive Extinction as having ‘a rawer, more direct sound.’ Though The Enemy Inside can’t be classified as polished or subtle, Cognitive Extinction embraces an even leaner, meaner aggression through twenty-eight minutes. Additionally, Warside weaves a broad theme into the album—the erosion of intelligence and critical thinking due to the proliferation of screens and dependence on technology. It’s an increasingly relevant theme in these crazy times, but is Warside’s warning enough to keep listeners’ gray matter from atrophying into pudding?

Though simply billed as ‘death metal,’ Warside skews towards the technical end of the spectrum. Dying Fetus, Misery Index, and Vomitory are cited as influences in the promo materials, and while elements of those bands exist on Cognitive Extinction,1 I also hear the frantic immediacy of Benighted and Aborted enmeshed with the tech-heavy grooves of more recent Cryptopsy and Suffocation. Technical without falling into technical death metal territory and bruising without earning a brutal death metal tag, Warside toes the line between extreme metal subgenres without fully committing to any specific one. Rather than wavering or wandering, though, Cognitive Extinction sounds confident, direct, and ready to peel your skull back to get a look at your cognition firsthand.

Despite adding some new members and shuffling guitar duties, Warside launches a savage assault that never relents. Returning from The Enemy Within, guitarist Vincent Morelle resumes six-string duties on Cognitive Extinction while former guitarist Jérôme dons the mantle of bassist. Joining them are duo Mathieu (vocals) and Thô (drums) from deathgrind project Festering Process, and together this foursome unleashes barrage after barrage of merciless death metal thunder. Tracks “Neurocide” and “Invasive Thoughts” meld Morbid Angel’s wicked melodies with Nile’s violent velocity, frequently coaxing involuntary stank-face. “Visceral” punches with Suffocation’s might, windmilling between stutter-stop leads and kick drum cannonades, while “Thirst for Rot” dive bombs into an early solo before hitting a swarthy Cryptopsy-meets-Decapitated groove. Throughout, Mathieu discharges fierce gutturals that remind me of Benighted’s Julien Truchan,2 primal and bloodthirsty without ever going full BREEE. All told, kinetic hooks, furious blast beats, and husky bass grooves carry the momentum of each track, with feverish solos offering brief detours from Warside’s otherwise unyielding onslaught.

Warside evokes death metal titans throughout Cognitive Extinction, yet clinging too tightly to these touchstones prevents them from fully realizing an identity of their own. In fairness, Cognitive Extinction works cohesively, with a consistent aural context that’s as bludgeoning as it is swift. And even though Warside sidesteps critical flaws, hooking an overcrowded niche with deathly wares can be a significant challenge. Genre greats can provide a strong template for writing compelling music, but emulation without innovation risks giving listeners an experience that drives them back to inspirations. Said simply, bands with unique sounds become reference points, while others get buried beneath the sands of time. In this regard, Cognitive Extinction feels like a half measure, where a blend of influences comes together to form a coherent album, yet lacks a wholly original voice.

Standout performances and sharp, economical songwriting distinguish Warside as an act I’ll follow closely, and help achieve a portion of the identity they need. Cognitive Extinction teems with talent and promise, and despite the abysmal dynamic range,3 the mix is well-balanced and allows listeners to appreciate what Warside does within its runtime. I’ve greatly enjoyed my time with Cognitive Extinction, and a couple of its gems have helped add some weight to my Heavy Moves Heavy ’26 playlist, but with so many killer death metal albums out this year, I’m unsure what lasting impact it’ll have. Time will tell, and in the meantime, I hope that Warside continues honing their blades to keep minds and interest sharp.

Rating: Good!
DR: 3 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Gruesome Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

Maybe war never changes, but Warside has. Between releasing inaugural EP The Enemy Inside, and recording their debut, three of Warside’s five members left the band. Now a quartet, the Lyon, France collective tromps into the death metal arena, brandishing Cognitive Extinction, their first long play. Down a guitarist, Warside reports Cognitive Extinction as having ‘a rawer, more direct sound.’ Though The Enemy Inside can’t be classified as polished or subtle, Cognitive Extinction embraces an even leaner, meaner aggression through twenty-eight minutes. Additionally, Warside weaves a broad theme into the album—the erosion of intelligence and critical thinking due to the proliferation of screens and dependence on technology. It’s an increasingly relevant theme in these crazy times, but is Warside’s warning enough to keep listeners’ gray matter from atrophying into pudding?

Though simply billed as ‘death metal,’ Warside skews towards the technical end of the spectrum. Dying Fetus, Misery Index, and Vomitory are cited as influences in the promo materials, and while elements of those bands exist on Cognitive Extinction,1 I also hear the frantic immediacy of Benighted and Aborted enmeshed with the tech-heavy grooves of more recent Cryptopsy and Suffocation. Technical without falling into technical death metal territory and bruising without earning a brutal death metal tag, Warside toes the line between extreme metal subgenres without fully committing to any specific one. Rather than wavering or wandering, though, Cognitive Extinction sounds confident, direct, and ready to peel your skull back to get a look at your cognition firsthand.

Despite adding some new members and shuffling guitar duties, Warside launches a savage assault that never relents. Returning from The Enemy Within, guitarist Vincent Morelle resumes six-string duties on Cognitive Extinction while former guitarist Jérôme dons the mantle of bassist. Joining them are duo Mathieu (vocals) and Thô (drums) from deathgrind project Festering Process, and together this foursome unleashes barrage after barrage of merciless death metal thunder. Tracks “Neurocide” and “Invasive Thoughts” meld Morbid Angel’s wicked melodies with Nile’s violent velocity, frequently coaxing involuntary stank-face. “Visceral” punches with Suffocation’s might, windmilling between stutter-stop leads and kick drum cannonades, while “Thirst for Rot” dive bombs into an early solo before hitting a swarthy Cryptopsy-meets-Decapitated groove. Throughout, Mathieu discharges fierce gutturals that remind me of Benighted’s Julien Truchan,2 primal and bloodthirsty without ever going full BREEE. All told, kinetic hooks, furious blast beats, and husky bass grooves carry the momentum of each track, with feverish solos offering brief detours from Warside’s otherwise unyielding onslaught.

Warside evokes death metal titans throughout Cognitive Extinction, yet clinging too tightly to these touchstones prevents them from fully realizing an identity of their own. In fairness, Cognitive Extinction works cohesively, with a consistent aural context that’s as bludgeoning as it is swift. And even though Warside sidesteps critical flaws, hooking an overcrowded niche with deathly wares can be a significant challenge. Genre greats can provide a strong template for writing compelling music, but emulation without innovation risks giving listeners an experience that drives them back to inspirations. Said simply, bands with unique sounds become reference points, while others get buried beneath the sands of time. In this regard, Cognitive Extinction feels like a half measure, where a blend of influences comes together to form a coherent album, yet lacks a wholly original voice.

Standout performances and sharp, economical songwriting distinguish Warside as an act I’ll follow closely, and help achieve a portion of the identity they need. Cognitive Extinction teems with talent and promise, and despite the abysmal dynamic range,3 the mix is well-balanced and allows listeners to appreciate what Warside does within its runtime. I’ve greatly enjoyed my time with Cognitive Extinction, and a couple of its gems have helped add some weight to my Heavy Moves Heavy ’26 playlist, but with so many killer death metal albums out this year, I’m unsure what lasting impact it’ll have. Time will tell, and in the meantime, I hope that Warside continues honing their blades to keep minds and interest sharp.

Rating: Good!
DR: 3 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Gruesome Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

Maybe war never changes, but Warside has. Between releasing inaugural EP The Enemy Inside, and recording their debut, three of Warside’s five members left the band. Now a quartet, the Lyon, France collective tromps into the death metal arena, brandishing Cognitive Extinction, their first long play. Down a guitarist, Warside reports Cognitive Extinction as having ‘a rawer, more direct sound.’ Though The Enemy Inside can’t be classified as polished or subtle, Cognitive Extinction embraces an even leaner, meaner aggression through twenty-eight minutes. Additionally, Warside weaves a broad theme into the album—the erosion of intelligence and critical thinking due to the proliferation of screens and dependence on technology. It’s an increasingly relevant theme in these crazy times, but is Warside’s warning enough to keep listeners’ gray matter from atrophying into pudding?

Though simply billed as ‘death metal,’ Warside skews towards the technical end of the spectrum. Dying Fetus, Misery Index, and Vomitory are cited as influences in the promo materials, and while elements of those bands exist on Cognitive Extinction,1 I also hear the frantic immediacy of Benighted and Aborted enmeshed with the tech-heavy grooves of more recent Cryptopsy and Suffocation. Technical without falling into technical death metal territory and bruising without earning a brutal death metal tag, Warside toes the line between extreme metal subgenres without fully committing to any specific one. Rather than wavering or wandering, though, Cognitive Extinction sounds confident, direct, and ready to peel your skull back to get a look at your cognition firsthand.

Despite adding some new members and shuffling guitar duties, Warside launches a savage assault that never relents. Returning from The Enemy Within, guitarist Vincent Morelle resumes six-string duties on Cognitive Extinction while former guitarist Jérôme dons the mantle of bassist. Joining them are duo Mathieu (vocals) and Thô (drums) from deathgrind project Festering Process, and together this foursome unleashes barrage after barrage of merciless death metal thunder. Tracks “Neurocide” and “Invasive Thoughts” meld Morbid Angel’s wicked melodies with Nile’s violent velocity, frequently coaxing involuntary stank-face. “Visceral” punches with Suffocation’s might, windmilling between stutter-stop leads and kick drum cannonades, while “Thirst for Rot” dive bombs into an early solo before hitting a swarthy Cryptopsy-meets-Decapitated groove. Throughout, Mathieu discharges fierce gutturals that remind me of Benighted’s Julien Truchan,2 primal and bloodthirsty without ever going full BREEE. All told, kinetic hooks, furious blast beats, and husky bass grooves carry the momentum of each track, with feverish solos offering brief detours from Warside’s otherwise unyielding onslaught.

Warside evokes death metal titans throughout Cognitive Extinction, yet clinging too tightly to these touchstones prevents them from fully realizing an identity of their own. In fairness, Cognitive Extinction works cohesively, with a consistent aural context that’s as bludgeoning as it is swift. And even though Warside sidesteps critical flaws, hooking an overcrowded niche with deathly wares can be a significant challenge. Genre greats can provide a strong template for writing compelling music, but emulation without innovation risks giving listeners an experience that drives them back to inspirations. Said simply, bands with unique sounds become reference points, while others get buried beneath the sands of time. In this regard, Cognitive Extinction feels like a half measure, where a blend of influences comes together to form a coherent album, yet lacks a wholly original voice.

Standout performances and sharp, economical songwriting distinguish Warside as an act I’ll follow closely, and help achieve a portion of the identity they need. Cognitive Extinction teems with talent and promise, and despite the abysmal dynamic range,3 the mix is well-balanced and allows listeners to appreciate what Warside does within its runtime. I’ve greatly enjoyed my time with Cognitive Extinction, and a couple of its gems have helped add some weight to my Heavy Moves Heavy ’26 playlist, but with so many killer death metal albums out this year, I’m unsure what lasting impact it’ll have. Time will tell, and in the meantime, I hope that Warside continues honing their blades to keep minds and interest sharp.

Rating: Good!
DR: 3 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Gruesome Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

Maybe war never changes, but Warside has. Between releasing inaugural EP The Enemy Inside, and recording their debut, three of Warside’s five members left the band. Now a quartet, the Lyon, France collective tromps into the death metal arena, brandishing Cognitive Extinction, their first long play. Down a guitarist, Warside reports Cognitive Extinction as having ‘a rawer, more direct sound.’ Though The Enemy Inside can’t be classified as polished or subtle, Cognitive Extinction embraces an even leaner, meaner aggression through twenty-eight minutes. Additionally, Warside weaves a broad theme into the album—the erosion of intelligence and critical thinking due to the proliferation of screens and dependence on technology. It’s an increasingly relevant theme in these crazy times, but is Warside’s warning enough to keep listeners’ gray matter from atrophying into pudding?

Though simply billed as ‘death metal,’ Warside skews towards the technical end of the spectrum. Dying Fetus, Misery Index, and Vomitory are cited as influences in the promo materials, and while elements of those bands exist on Cognitive Extinction,1 I also hear the frantic immediacy of Benighted and Aborted enmeshed with the tech-heavy grooves of more recent Cryptopsy and Suffocation. Technical without falling into technical death metal territory and bruising without earning a brutal death metal tag, Warside toes the line between extreme metal subgenres without fully committing to any specific one. Rather than wavering or wandering, though, Cognitive Extinction sounds confident, direct, and ready to peel your skull back to get a look at your cognition firsthand.

Despite adding some new members and shuffling guitar duties, Warside launches a savage assault that never relents. Returning from The Enemy Within, guitarist Vincent Morelle resumes six-string duties on Cognitive Extinction while former guitarist Jérôme dons the mantle of bassist. Joining them are duo Mathieu (vocals) and Thô (drums) from deathgrind project Festering Process, and together this foursome unleashes barrage after barrage of merciless death metal thunder. Tracks “Neurocide” and “Invasive Thoughts” meld Morbid Angel’s wicked melodies with Nile’s violent velocity, frequently coaxing involuntary stank-face. “Visceral” punches with Suffocation’s might, windmilling between stutter-stop leads and kick drum cannonades, while “Thirst for Rot” dive bombs into an early solo before hitting a swarthy Cryptopsy-meets-Decapitated groove. Throughout, Mathieu discharges fierce gutturals that remind me of Benighted’s Julien Truchan,2 primal and bloodthirsty without ever going full BREEE. All told, kinetic hooks, furious blast beats, and husky bass grooves carry the momentum of each track, with feverish solos offering brief detours from Warside’s otherwise unyielding onslaught.

Warside evokes death metal titans throughout Cognitive Extinction, yet clinging too tightly to these touchstones prevents them from fully realizing an identity of their own. In fairness, Cognitive Extinction works cohesively, with a consistent aural context that’s as bludgeoning as it is swift. And even though Warside sidesteps critical flaws, hooking an overcrowded niche with deathly wares can be a significant challenge. Genre greats can provide a strong template for writing compelling music, but emulation without innovation risks giving listeners an experience that drives them back to inspirations. Said simply, bands with unique sounds become reference points, while others get buried beneath the sands of time. In this regard, Cognitive Extinction feels like a half measure, where a blend of influences comes together to form a coherent album, yet lacks a wholly original voice.

Standout performances and sharp, economical songwriting distinguish Warside as an act I’ll follow closely, and help achieve a portion of the identity they need. Cognitive Extinction teems with talent and promise, and despite the abysmal dynamic range,3 the mix is well-balanced and allows listeners to appreciate what Warside does within its runtime. I’ve greatly enjoyed my time with Cognitive Extinction, and a couple of its gems have helped add some weight to my Heavy Moves Heavy ’26 playlist, but with so many killer death metal albums out this year, I’m unsure what lasting impact it’ll have. Time will tell, and in the meantime, I hope that Warside continues honing their blades to keep minds and interest sharp.

Rating: Good!
DR: 3 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Gruesome Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

There was a time in my youth when bands like California’s Atreyu, Killswitch Engage and their ilk were all I wanted to listen to. Whether this was due to the novelty of the sound in its era, coinciding with my novice experience with metal as a whole, or perhaps the reflection of my own earnest angst resonating from the common themes of the scene, records like As Daylight Dies or Lead Sails Paper Anchor marked core albums in my metallic upbringing. However, with only two exceptions, I never kept up with any of these bands as time passed. My tastes shifted and evolved. For a time, I forgot entirely about Atreyu, until the itch to sing a few of their songs in the car became too much to bear. And so, when I saw Atreyu were not only still active, but about to release a new record aptly entitled The End is Not the End, I had to know how almost 20 years of time away changed my appreciation for Atreyu.

One thing that 20 years did not change was Atreyu’s style. Since my introduction to them with Lead Sails Paper Anchor, an album I still hold in high regard for better or for worse, they firmly entrenched their metalcore base with poppy beats, addicting choruses, and earnest, if ham-fisted, lyrics. Thankfully, they also boasted one of the better vocalists in a style hell-bent on employing whiny tenors with unrefined technique, both in harsh and clean styles. If anything, Brandon Saller has only gotten better with time and practice. The rest of the lineup shifted and swirled until settling into its current form in 2020,1 but other than a marked uptick in pop-centric songwriting, Atreyu preserved the core of their 2007 sound remarkably well.

This both works in their favor and leaves me cold. On one hand, killer hit-makers that are impossible to resist (“Break Me,” “All for You”) recall the shockingly effective simplicity of post-grunge-pop acts like Daughtry or Shinedown at their peak. On the other hand, a distinct lack of unique ideas or distinct identity for the vast majority of its 45-ish minute runtime (with the exception of “Ego Death” and “Children of the Light”) leaves me starving for something of substance. At times, as in the generic “Death Rattle,” small songwriting choices (the crowd-core “MOTHERFUCKER” shout being one) cause a minor recoil in my spine as it recalls the more embarrassing moments of my teen years. However, album standouts “Children of Light” and “In the Dark” evoke a legitimate callback to classic In Flames-style melodic death metal, rippling with energetic gallops and even a cool tandem guitar/saxophone solo. These songs don’t go so far as to abandon Atreyu’s pop sensibilities or cheesy lyrics, but they are big fun nonetheless and are sure to please crowds mightily.

Yet I struggle to recall anything from The End is Not the End once it… well… ends. As happy as I am pulling my favorite songs like “All for You” or “In the Dark” for playlist duties—which would eventually allow them to find purchase in my memory—I can’t help but stew in disappointment that nothing here sticks with the immediacy of past bangers like “Doomsday,” “When Two Are One” or “Falling Down.” I can appreciate that The End is Not the End is an altogether more hopeful and uplifting record compared to that angsty, bitter predecessor of my youth, but the shift in tone hasn’t helped the songwriting. On that front, The End is Not the End sounds like Atreyu going through the motions, spinning their wheels, and making very little forward momentum. In turn, I found very little here to grab onto and even less that grabbed me first.

I still want to go to bat for these guys. As many times as I’ve heard my comrades and co-conspirators belittle Atreyu, I can’t help but protect the soft spot I have for them. At the same time, The End is Not the End is not going to convince any of the naysayers, and hasn’t won me over either. There are great songs here with choruses that I would have a blast belting out at a drop of a hat. A couple of small sparks of unexpected heft remind me that Atreyu are, indeed, part of the metal landscape, albeit on the poppiest fringe of the core region. All in all, though, I’m not going to think at all about The End is Not the End 20 years from now. Alas.

Rating: Disappointing.
DR: Use Your Imagination | Format Reviewed: Streamfarm
Label: Spinefarm Records
Websites: atreyuofficial.com | facebook.com/Atreyu
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Chariots Overdrive – The End of Antiquity Review

Manilla Road, Motörhead, and Megaton Sword walk into a bar—Lemmy’s pick, …
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2.5 #2026 #AmericanMetal #Apr26 #BlackSabbath #ChariotsOverdrive #DeadKennedys #DropkickMurphys #Entertainment #GatesofHellRecords #HeavyMetal #IronMaiden #JudasPriest #ManillaRoad #MegatonSword #Motörhead #NWOBHM #PowerMetal #rancid #review #reviews #TheEndofAntiquity
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/609222/

Chariots Overdrive – The End of Antiquity Review

Manilla Road, Motörhead, and Megaton Sword walk into a bar—Lemmy’s pick, …
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2.5 #2026 #AmericanMetal #Apr26 #BlackSabbath #ChariotsOverdrive #DeadKennedys #DropkickMurphys #Entertainment #GatesofHellRecords #HeavyMetal #IronMaiden #JudasPriest #ManillaRoad #MegatonSword #Motörhead #NWOBHM #PowerMetal #rancid #review #reviews #TheEndofAntiquity
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/609222/

https://www.europesays.com/uk/921785/ Armed for Apocalypse – The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me Review #25 #2026 #AmericanMetal #Apr26 #ArmedForApocalypse #BetterLovers #ChurchRoadRecords #Converge #Entertainment #Eyehategod #music #Nails #Review #Reviews #Sludge #TheDillingerEscapePlan #TheEarthIsBreathingBeneathMe #UK #UnitedKingdom

Sludge purveyors Armed for Apocalypse have little interest in fitting neatly into a scene or pandering to an audience. They lack both the time and the inclination. What they do have is relentless drive, a mountain of riffs, and a spirit forged through lived experience and hard-earned endurance. The Portland-by-way-of-Chico quartet has learned its lessons the hard way over 17 years and 3 LPs, cutting their teeth on the road, betting on Kickstarter campaigns to fund tours, and grinding it out night after night. That pathos bleeds through every pore of their music. 2022’s Ritual Violence was a distortion-soaked, relentlessly heavy effort rooted in the likes of Eyehategod, even if its uniformity somewhat blunted its impact. Fourth LP, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me, is no different, thriving on sheer physicality and a firm commitment to a clearly defined approach that remains Armed for Apocalypse’s bread and butter.

If you’re in the mood for a good ol’ fashioned chug-fest, Armed for Apocalypse is here to deliver. The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me locks into its identity early, delivering big, lumbering grooves that bulldoze the listener with sheer physical force. “Fists Like Feathers” and “Ashes of the Night” announce their arrival immediately with huge down-tuned riffs and distorted drawls dipped in djenty flavors, while “Spellbound,” “Keep Up Appearances” and “Lost Without a Light” pick up the pace with simple but effective Converge-esque hooks and breakdowns that feel designed to move bodies. Drummer Nick Harris absolutely hammers his kit, driving this sludgernaut1 forward with obliterating momentum. Nate Burman’s vocals split the difference between Greg Puciato’s (The Dillinger Escape Plan, Better Lovers) unhinged howls and Phil Anselmo’s tough‑guy roar, never wavering from his acrid delivery or venturing from his tonal range. You won’t find any flash or frills here, just straight, unchecked fury, and these lads execute it with confidence.

While The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me maintains an intense, uncompromising core, its narrow scope limits its upside. Fueled largely by rigid structures and an overreliance on recurring songwriting formulas, Armed for Apocalypse’s consistency can be appealing in short bursts, but over time, the group’s approach causes tracks to blur together. From “Lost Without A Light” through “Lurk,” the record delivers a run of pit-inducing cuts that are lean, direct, and effective, but repeated, tropey breakdowns funnel each track back into the chug factory. It reinforces the sense that The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me could have benefited from bolder, more creative risks. Penultimate song “Bathed in a Tepid Pool of My Own Filth,” functions as a four-minute interlude of resonant, open string drones, offering little relief from the textural wash percolating throughout, particularly after tracks like “Beyond the Mirage” or “Immortal” have already bludgeoned you into submission with similar through-lines.

However, scattered moments of variety across The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me provide evidence that Armed for Apocalypse aren’t purely one-trick. Crestfallen verses and brief melodic passages (“Immortal”) and moments of vulnerability (“Beyond the Mirage,” the title track) suggest more nuanced songwriting, but they surface too sparingly to lift the record from its murky haze. Elsewhere, “Fist Like Feathers” shows the group’s songwriting chops with a strong bout of riffs and hooks that are memorable from the start, while “Lurk” cycles Nails-like assaults before predictably reverting to metalcore breakdowns. Kurt Ballou’s (Converge) production gives everything a massive, polished heft,2 emphasizing Armed for Apocalypse’s crunchy, blue‑collar ethos and ensures that each pummeling section does its best to batter you until you’re bloodied and broken.

The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me isn’t a record that invites deep emotional attachment so much as it aims for raw force. When Armed for Apocalypse allows themselves room to experiment, The Earth Is Breathing Beneath Me hints at something more. Those moments underline that Armed for Apocalypse has the talent and discipline to push beyond sheer heaviness. Their yeoman identity, relentless energy, and willingness to get in and get out without excess flash work to their advantage in many respects, and that authenticity can be enough to satisfy. But I can’t help but crave more. Regardless of my desires, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me never pretends to be more (or less) than what it is and is ultimately content to stop right there.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: armedforapocalypse.bandcamp.com | armedforapocalypse.com | facebook.com/armedforapocalypse
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Sludge purveyors Armed for Apocalypse have little interest in fitting neatly into a scene or pandering to an audience. They lack both the time and the inclination. What they do have is relentless drive, a mountain of riffs, and a spirit forged through lived experience and hard-earned endurance. The Portland-by-way-of-Chico quartet has learned its lessons the hard way over 17 years and 3 LPs, cutting their teeth on the road, betting on Kickstarter campaigns to fund tours, and grinding it out night after night. That pathos bleeds through every pore of their music. 2022’s Ritual Violence was a distortion-soaked, relentlessly heavy effort rooted in the likes of Eyehategod, even if its uniformity somewhat blunted its impact. Fourth LP, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me, is no different, thriving on sheer physicality and a firm commitment to a clearly defined approach that remains Armed for Apocalypse’s bread and butter.

If you’re in the mood for a good ol’ fashioned chug-fest, Armed for Apocalypse is here to deliver. The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me locks into its identity early, delivering big, lumbering grooves that bulldoze the listener with sheer physical force. “Fists Like Feathers” and “Ashes of the Night” announce their arrival immediately with huge down-tuned riffs and distorted drawls dipped in djenty flavors, while “Spellbound,” “Keep Up Appearances” and “Lost Without a Light” pick up the pace with simple but effective Converge-esque hooks and breakdowns that feel designed to move bodies. Drummer Nick Harris absolutely hammers his kit, driving this sludgernaut1 forward with obliterating momentum. Nate Burman’s vocals split the difference between Greg Puciato’s (The Dillinger Escape Plan, Better Lovers) unhinged howls and Phil Anselmo’s tough‑guy roar, never wavering from his acrid delivery or venturing from his tonal range. You won’t find any flash or frills here, just straight, unchecked fury, and these lads execute it with confidence.

While The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me maintains an intense, uncompromising core, its narrow scope limits its upside. Fueled largely by rigid structures and an overreliance on recurring songwriting formulas, Armed for Apocalypse’s consistency can be appealing in short bursts, but over time, the group’s approach causes tracks to blur together. From “Lost Without A Light” through “Lurk,” the record delivers a run of pit-inducing cuts that are lean, direct, and effective, but repeated, tropey breakdowns funnel each track back into the chug factory. It reinforces the sense that The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me could have benefited from bolder, more creative risks. Penultimate song “Bathed in a Tepid Pool of My Own Filth,” functions as a four-minute interlude of resonant, open string drones, offering little relief from the textural wash percolating throughout, particularly after tracks like “Beyond the Mirage” or “Immortal” have already bludgeoned you into submission with similar through-lines.

However, scattered moments of variety across The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me provide evidence that Armed for Apocalypse aren’t purely one-trick. Crestfallen verses and brief melodic passages (“Immortal”) and moments of vulnerability (“Beyond the Mirage,” the title track) suggest more nuanced songwriting, but they surface too sparingly to lift the record from its murky haze. Elsewhere, “Fist Like Feathers” shows the group’s songwriting chops with a strong bout of riffs and hooks that are memorable from the start, while “Lurk” cycles Nails-like assaults before predictably reverting to metalcore breakdowns. Kurt Ballou’s (Converge) production gives everything a massive, polished heft,2 emphasizing Armed for Apocalypse’s crunchy, blue‑collar ethos and ensures that each pummeling section does its best to batter you until you’re bloodied and broken.

The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me isn’t a record that invites deep emotional attachment so much as it aims for raw force. When Armed for Apocalypse allows themselves room to experiment, The Earth Is Breathing Beneath Me hints at something more. Those moments underline that Armed for Apocalypse has the talent and discipline to push beyond sheer heaviness. Their yeoman identity, relentless energy, and willingness to get in and get out without excess flash work to their advantage in many respects, and that authenticity can be enough to satisfy. But I can’t help but crave more. Regardless of my desires, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me never pretends to be more (or less) than what it is and is ultimately content to stop right there.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: armedforapocalypse.bandcamp.com | armedforapocalypse.com | facebook.com/armedforapocalypse
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Sludge purveyors Armed for Apocalypse have little interest in fitting neatly into a scene or pandering to an audience. They lack both the time and the inclination. What they do have is relentless drive, a mountain of riffs, and a spirit forged through lived experience and hard-earned endurance. The Portland-by-way-of-Chico quartet has learned its lessons the hard way over 17 years and 3 LPs, cutting their teeth on the road, betting on Kickstarter campaigns to fund tours, and grinding it out night after night. That pathos bleeds through every pore of their music. 2022’s Ritual Violence was a distortion-soaked, relentlessly heavy effort rooted in the likes of Eyehategod, even if its uniformity somewhat blunted its impact. Fourth LP, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me, is no different, thriving on sheer physicality and a firm commitment to a clearly defined approach that remains Armed for Apocalypse’s bread and butter.

If you’re in the mood for a good ol’ fashioned chug-fest, Armed for Apocalypse is here to deliver. The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me locks into its identity early, delivering big, lumbering grooves that bulldoze the listener with sheer physical force. “Fists Like Feathers” and “Ashes of the Night” announce their arrival immediately with huge down-tuned riffs and distorted drawls dipped in djenty flavors, while “Spellbound,” “Keep Up Appearances” and “Lost Without a Light” pick up the pace with simple but effective Converge-esque hooks and breakdowns that feel designed to move bodies. Drummer Nick Harris absolutely hammers his kit, driving this sludgernaut1 forward with obliterating momentum. Nate Burman’s vocals split the difference between Greg Puciato’s (The Dillinger Escape Plan, Better Lovers) unhinged howls and Phil Anselmo’s tough‑guy roar, never wavering from his acrid delivery or venturing from his tonal range. You won’t find any flash or frills here, just straight, unchecked fury, and these lads execute it with confidence.

While The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me maintains an intense, uncompromising core, its narrow scope limits its upside. Fueled largely by rigid structures and an overreliance on recurring songwriting formulas, Armed for Apocalypse’s consistency can be appealing in short bursts, but over time, the group’s approach causes tracks to blur together. From “Lost Without A Light” through “Lurk,” the record delivers a run of pit-inducing cuts that are lean, direct, and effective, but repeated, tropey breakdowns funnel each track back into the chug factory. It reinforces the sense that The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me could have benefited from bolder, more creative risks. Penultimate song “Bathed in a Tepid Pool of My Own Filth,” functions as a four-minute interlude of resonant, open string drones, offering little relief from the textural wash percolating throughout, particularly after tracks like “Beyond the Mirage” or “Immortal” have already bludgeoned you into submission with similar through-lines.

However, scattered moments of variety across The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me provide evidence that Armed for Apocalypse aren’t purely one-trick. Crestfallen verses and brief melodic passages (“Immortal”) and moments of vulnerability (“Beyond the Mirage,” the title track) suggest more nuanced songwriting, but they surface too sparingly to lift the record from its murky haze. Elsewhere, “Fist Like Feathers” shows the group’s songwriting chops with a strong bout of riffs and hooks that are memorable from the start, while “Lurk” cycles Nails-like assaults before predictably reverting to metalcore breakdowns. Kurt Ballou’s (Converge) production gives everything a massive, polished heft,2 emphasizing Armed for Apocalypse’s crunchy, blue‑collar ethos and ensures that each pummeling section does its best to batter you until you’re bloodied and broken.

The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me isn’t a record that invites deep emotional attachment so much as it aims for raw force. When Armed for Apocalypse allows themselves room to experiment, The Earth Is Breathing Beneath Me hints at something more. Those moments underline that Armed for Apocalypse has the talent and discipline to push beyond sheer heaviness. Their yeoman identity, relentless energy, and willingness to get in and get out without excess flash work to their advantage in many respects, and that authenticity can be enough to satisfy. But I can’t help but crave more. Regardless of my desires, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me never pretends to be more (or less) than what it is and is ultimately content to stop right there.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: armedforapocalypse.bandcamp.com | armedforapocalypse.com | facebook.com/armedforapocalypse
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Sludge purveyors Armed for Apocalypse have little interest in fitting neatly into a scene or pandering to an audience. They lack both the time and the inclination. What they do have is relentless drive, a mountain of riffs, and a spirit forged through lived experience and hard-earned endurance. The Portland-by-way-of-Chico quartet has learned its lessons the hard way over 17 years and 3 LPs, cutting their teeth on the road, betting on Kickstarter campaigns to fund tours, and grinding it out night after night. That pathos bleeds through every pore of their music. 2022’s Ritual Violence was a distortion-soaked, relentlessly heavy effort rooted in the likes of Eyehategod, even if its uniformity somewhat blunted its impact. Fourth LP, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me, is no different, thriving on sheer physicality and a firm commitment to a clearly defined approach that remains Armed for Apocalypse’s bread and butter.

If you’re in the mood for a good ol’ fashioned chug-fest, Armed for Apocalypse is here to deliver. The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me locks into its identity early, delivering big, lumbering grooves that bulldoze the listener with sheer physical force. “Fists Like Feathers” and “Ashes of the Night” announce their arrival immediately with huge down-tuned riffs and distorted drawls dipped in djenty flavors, while “Spellbound,” “Keep Up Appearances” and “Lost Without a Light” pick up the pace with simple but effective Converge-esque hooks and breakdowns that feel designed to move bodies. Drummer Nick Harris absolutely hammers his kit, driving this sludgernaut1 forward with obliterating momentum. Nate Burman’s vocals split the difference between Greg Puciato’s (The Dillinger Escape Plan, Better Lovers) unhinged howls and Phil Anselmo’s tough‑guy roar, never wavering from his acrid delivery or venturing from his tonal range. You won’t find any flash or frills here, just straight, unchecked fury, and these lads execute it with confidence.

While The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me maintains an intense, uncompromising core, its narrow scope limits its upside. Fueled largely by rigid structures and an overreliance on recurring songwriting formulas, Armed for Apocalypse’s consistency can be appealing in short bursts, but over time, the group’s approach causes tracks to blur together. From “Lost Without A Light” through “Lurk,” the record delivers a run of pit-inducing cuts that are lean, direct, and effective, but repeated, tropey breakdowns funnel each track back into the chug factory. It reinforces the sense that The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me could have benefited from bolder, more creative risks. Penultimate song “Bathed in a Tepid Pool of My Own Filth,” functions as a four-minute interlude of resonant, open string drones, offering little relief from the textural wash percolating throughout, particularly after tracks like “Beyond the Mirage” or “Immortal” have already bludgeoned you into submission with similar through-lines.

However, scattered moments of variety across The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me provide evidence that Armed for Apocalypse aren’t purely one-trick. Crestfallen verses and brief melodic passages (“Immortal”) and moments of vulnerability (“Beyond the Mirage,” the title track) suggest more nuanced songwriting, but they surface too sparingly to lift the record from its murky haze. Elsewhere, “Fist Like Feathers” shows the group’s songwriting chops with a strong bout of riffs and hooks that are memorable from the start, while “Lurk” cycles Nails-like assaults before predictably reverting to metalcore breakdowns. Kurt Ballou’s (Converge) production gives everything a massive, polished heft,2 emphasizing Armed for Apocalypse’s crunchy, blue‑collar ethos and ensures that each pummeling section does its best to batter you until you’re bloodied and broken.

The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me isn’t a record that invites deep emotional attachment so much as it aims for raw force. When Armed for Apocalypse allows themselves room to experiment, The Earth Is Breathing Beneath Me hints at something more. Those moments underline that Armed for Apocalypse has the talent and discipline to push beyond sheer heaviness. Their yeoman identity, relentless energy, and willingness to get in and get out without excess flash work to their advantage in many respects, and that authenticity can be enough to satisfy. But I can’t help but crave more. Regardless of my desires, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me never pretends to be more (or less) than what it is and is ultimately content to stop right there.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: armedforapocalypse.bandcamp.com | armedforapocalypse.com | facebook.com/armedforapocalypse
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Sludge purveyors Armed for Apocalypse have little interest in fitting neatly into a scene or pandering to an audience. They lack both the time and the inclination. What they do have is relentless drive, a mountain of riffs, and a spirit forged through lived experience and hard-earned endurance. The Portland-by-way-of-Chico quartet has learned its lessons the hard way over 17 years and 3 LPs, cutting their teeth on the road, betting on Kickstarter campaigns to fund tours, and grinding it out night after night. That pathos bleeds through every pore of their music. 2022’s Ritual Violence was a distortion-soaked, relentlessly heavy effort rooted in the likes of Eyehategod, even if its uniformity somewhat blunted its impact. Fourth LP, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me, is no different, thriving on sheer physicality and a firm commitment to a clearly defined approach that remains Armed for Apocalypse’s bread and butter.

If you’re in the mood for a good ol’ fashioned chug-fest, Armed for Apocalypse is here to deliver. The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me locks into its identity early, delivering big, lumbering grooves that bulldoze the listener with sheer physical force. “Fists Like Feathers” and “Ashes of the Night” announce their arrival immediately with huge down-tuned riffs and distorted drawls dipped in djenty flavors, while “Spellbound,” “Keep Up Appearances” and “Lost Without a Light” pick up the pace with simple but effective Converge-esque hooks and breakdowns that feel designed to move bodies. Drummer Nick Harris absolutely hammers his kit, driving this sludgernaut1 forward with obliterating momentum. Nate Burman’s vocals split the difference between Greg Puciato’s (The Dillinger Escape Plan, Better Lovers) unhinged howls and Phil Anselmo’s tough‑guy roar, never wavering from his acrid delivery or venturing from his tonal range. You won’t find any flash or frills here, just straight, unchecked fury, and these lads execute it with confidence.

While The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me maintains an intense, uncompromising core, its narrow scope limits its upside. Fueled largely by rigid structures and an overreliance on recurring songwriting formulas, Armed for Apocalypse’s consistency can be appealing in short bursts, but over time, the group’s approach causes tracks to blur together. From “Lost Without A Light” through “Lurk,” the record delivers a run of pit-inducing cuts that are lean, direct, and effective, but repeated, tropey breakdowns funnel each track back into the chug factory. It reinforces the sense that The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me could have benefited from bolder, more creative risks. Penultimate song “Bathed in a Tepid Pool of My Own Filth,” functions as a four-minute interlude of resonant, open string drones, offering little relief from the textural wash percolating throughout, particularly after tracks like “Beyond the Mirage” or “Immortal” have already bludgeoned you into submission with similar through-lines.

However, scattered moments of variety across The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me provide evidence that Armed for Apocalypse aren’t purely one-trick. Crestfallen verses and brief melodic passages (“Immortal”) and moments of vulnerability (“Beyond the Mirage,” the title track) suggest more nuanced songwriting, but they surface too sparingly to lift the record from its murky haze. Elsewhere, “Fist Like Feathers” shows the group’s songwriting chops with a strong bout of riffs and hooks that are memorable from the start, while “Lurk” cycles Nails-like assaults before predictably reverting to metalcore breakdowns. Kurt Ballou’s (Converge) production gives everything a massive, polished heft,2 emphasizing Armed for Apocalypse’s crunchy, blue‑collar ethos and ensures that each pummeling section does its best to batter you until you’re bloodied and broken.

The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me isn’t a record that invites deep emotional attachment so much as it aims for raw force. When Armed for Apocalypse allows themselves room to experiment, The Earth Is Breathing Beneath Me hints at something more. Those moments underline that Armed for Apocalypse has the talent and discipline to push beyond sheer heaviness. Their yeoman identity, relentless energy, and willingness to get in and get out without excess flash work to their advantage in many respects, and that authenticity can be enough to satisfy. But I can’t help but crave more. Regardless of my desires, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me never pretends to be more (or less) than what it is and is ultimately content to stop right there.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: armedforapocalypse.bandcamp.com | armedforapocalypse.com | facebook.com/armedforapocalypse
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/uk/921236/ Chariots Overdrive – The End of Antiquity Review #25 #2026 #AmericanMetal #Apr26 #BlackSabbath #ChariotsOverdrive #DeadKennedys #DropkickMurphys #Entertainment #GatesOfHellRecords #HeavyMetal #IronMaiden #JudasPriest #ManillaRoad #MegatonSword #Motörhead #music #NWOBHM #PowerMetal #Rancid #Review #Reviews #TheEndOfAntiquity #UK #UnitedKingdom

Chariots Overdrive – The End of Antiquity Review

Manilla Road, Motörhead, and Megaton Sword walk into a bar—Lemmy’s pick, if that helps you picture t…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #AmericanMetal #Apr26 #BlackSabbath #ChariotsOverdrive #DeadKennedys #DropkickMurphys #Entertainment #GatesofHellRecords #HeavyMetal #IronMaiden #JudasPriest #ManillaRoad #MegatonSword #Motörhead #NWOBHM #PowerMetal #Rancid #review #Reviews #TheEndofAntiquity #UK #UnitedKingdom
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/552187/

Manilla Road, Motörhead, and Megaton Sword walk into a bar—Lemmy’s pick, if that helps you picture the place. Someone yells, “cops outside!” The word “cops” clears the room faster than napalm ever could. Stampede. The bands are swept up in the deluge of bodies, bewildered and sweaty. Amidst the chaos, several shuffle into a nearby van. Driving off, they realize that 1) these aren’t their bandmates, 2) this is Di’Anno-era Iron Maiden’s van with their keys and all their equipment left inside, and 3) they picked up Dropkick Murphys somewhere along the way. If this hypothetical group decided to run with it, they would sound like Chariots Overdrive. Hailing from Beijing, China, and currently residing in Atlanta, Georgia, these adherents of the NWoBHM sound old as dirt on their debut, The End of Antiquity, injecting fantastical lyricism inspired by Chinese history and folklore into their mix. But can this van/chariot go the distance, or has this ride seen its last mile?

The End of Antiquity is driven by allegiance to metal in the purest form, and Chariots Overdrive wield it with punk-like tenacity. Speed and belligerence rule The End of Antiquity, embodied in the full-band gang vocals of “Marching Maniacs” and the Dead Kennedys-like discordance of “Parasite.” The belts and snarls singer G.H.Z uses on “A Taikonautic Alchemist” and “Chariots Overdrive”1 would fit as well with Rancid as they do here, and their guitars and bass evoke the aforementioned early Maiden years in the punkish bite (“The End of Antiquity”). Bassist Z.Z.Y lays down aggressively clicky, highly melodic lines across The End of Antiquity, giving Chariots Overdrive a burly-yet-catchy streak akin to Steve Harris’ playing and bolstering G.H.Z and Y.Z’s gnarly dual guitars and W.R.C’s punchy drums into a full-bodied declaration of victory. Chariots Overdrive feel rooted in the simple joy of throwing ragers with the boys, and The End of Antiquity is, if nothing else, a rager.

Chariots Overdrive don’t overcomplicate anything, which is a boon and bane to The End of Antiquity. Most songs play around simple melodies over two to four chords. Guitar solos aren’t flashy on The End of Antiquity, but they’re incisive. When the outcome is exhilarating like “Chariots Overdrive” or Judas Priest-levels of catchy like “Marching Maniacs,” it’s hard to argue. But it also puts the onus of The End of Antiquity’s success on Chariot Overdrive’s performances, which can falter. G.H.Z isn’t a powerhouse vocalist and sounds downright rough at times, especially where Chariot Overdrive attempt harmonization, such as the chorus of “A Taikonautic Alchemist.” It also means that, despite the album’s lean runtime, The End of Antiquity sounds somewhat exhausted by the time “Nomadic Warfare” and the title track appear, as their hooks are comparatively weaker to the rest of the record. I’m all for simplifying something for the sake of effectiveness, but what’s left has to be as tight as you can make it. In this regard, Chariots Overdrive can improve.

What Chariots Overdrive need is a more refined identity. Like early Iron Maiden, Chariots Overdrive seem to strive towards a dirty-yet-sophisticated sound and theming, evidenced by the fingerstyle guitar and serene bass-and-piano interludes of “Where Dust Reigns” and “Sunken Throb,”2 but these instrumentals’ moods aren’t matched or mirrored by the rest of the album and feel tacked-on as a result. The standout, 12-minute song “A Bizarre Pilgrimage to the Cubik Mansion” hints at what Chariots Overdrive can do, as the band navigates artfully between Motörhead’s hyped-up rock n’ roll and Black Sabbathian gloomy doom.3 But the track buckles a bit under its weight by the end and feels done a few minutes before it’s over. Chariots Overdrive are engaging by grit and energy, but without a solid grasp on what exactly they are doing, The End of Antiquity can only be a fun-but-flawed work when taken as a whole.

The End of Antiquity has some flaws, but I still like where the Chariots Overdrive van is going. If you like any of the bands mentioned above it’s a safe bet you’ll get something out of this. There’s obvious chemistry between the band, and their debut has plenty of good moments throughout that are both fun in the present and hint towards a stronger future. I don’t want Chariots Overdrive to give up on what they’re doing, but if they can merge their punk hooliganism with the finesse they aspire towards in the next album, it’ll be a hit. There’s a lot of highway ahead, but this chariot’s got tread to spare yet.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 84 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Gates of Hell Records
Websites: chariotsoverdrive.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/chariotsoverdrive
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 20265

Manilla Road, Motörhead, and Megaton Sword walk into a bar—Lemmy’s pick, if that helps you picture the place. Someone yells, “cops outside!” The word “cops” clears the room faster than napalm ever could. Stampede. The bands are swept up in the deluge of bodies, bewildered and sweaty. Amidst the chaos, several shuffle into a nearby van. Driving off, they realize that 1) these aren’t their bandmates, 2) this is Di’Anno-era Iron Maiden’s van with their keys and all their equipment left inside, and 3) they picked up Dropkick Murphys somewhere along the way. If this hypothetical group decided to run with it, they would sound like Chariots Overdrive. Hailing from Beijing, China, and currently residing in Atlanta, Georgia, these adherents of the NWoBHM sound old as dirt on their debut, The End of Antiquity, injecting fantastical lyricism inspired by Chinese history and folklore into their mix. But can this van/chariot go the distance, or has this ride seen its last mile?

The End of Antiquity is driven by allegiance to metal in the purest form, and Chariots Overdrive wield it with punk-like tenacity. Speed and belligerence rule The End of Antiquity, embodied in the full-band gang vocals of “Marching Maniacs” and the Dead Kennedys-like discordance of “Parasite.” The belts and snarls singer G.H.Z uses on “A Taikonautic Alchemist” and “Chariots Overdrive”1 would fit as well with Rancid as they do here, and their guitars and bass evoke the aforementioned early Maiden years in the punkish bite (“The End of Antiquity”). Bassist Z.Z.Y lays down aggressively clicky, highly melodic lines across The End of Antiquity, giving Chariots Overdrive a burly-yet-catchy streak akin to Steve Harris’ playing and bolstering G.H.Z and Y.Z’s gnarly dual guitars and W.R.C’s punchy drums into a full-bodied declaration of victory. Chariots Overdrive feel rooted in the simple joy of throwing ragers with the boys, and The End of Antiquity is, if nothing else, a rager.

Chariots Overdrive don’t overcomplicate anything, which is a boon and bane to The End of Antiquity. Most songs play around simple melodies over two to four chords. Guitar solos aren’t flashy on The End of Antiquity, but they’re incisive. When the outcome is exhilarating like “Chariots Overdrive” or Judas Priest-levels of catchy like “Marching Maniacs,” it’s hard to argue. But it also puts the onus of The End of Antiquity’s success on Chariot Overdrive’s performances, which can falter. G.H.Z isn’t a powerhouse vocalist and sounds downright rough at times, especially where Chariot Overdrive attempt harmonization, such as the chorus of “A Taikonautic Alchemist.” It also means that, despite the album’s lean runtime, The End of Antiquity sounds somewhat exhausted by the time “Nomadic Warfare” and the title track appear, as their hooks are comparatively weaker to the rest of the record. I’m all for simplifying something for the sake of effectiveness, but what’s left has to be as tight as you can make it. In this regard, Chariots Overdrive can improve.

What Chariots Overdrive need is a more refined identity. Like early Iron Maiden, Chariots Overdrive seem to strive towards a dirty-yet-sophisticated sound and theming, evidenced by the fingerstyle guitar and serene bass-and-piano interludes of “Where Dust Reigns” and “Sunken Throb,”2 but these instrumentals’ moods aren’t matched or mirrored by the rest of the album and feel tacked-on as a result. The standout, 12-minute song “A Bizarre Pilgrimage to the Cubik Mansion” hints at what Chariots Overdrive can do, as the band navigates artfully between Motörhead’s hyped-up rock n’ roll and Black Sabbathian gloomy doom.3 But the track buckles a bit under its weight by the end and feels done a few minutes before it’s over. Chariots Overdrive are engaging by grit and energy, but without a solid grasp on what exactly they are doing, The End of Antiquity can only be a fun-but-flawed work when taken as a whole.

The End of Antiquity has some flaws, but I still like where the Chariots Overdrive van is going. If you like any of the bands mentioned above it’s a safe bet you’ll get something out of this. There’s obvious chemistry between the band, and their debut has plenty of good moments throughout that are both fun in the present and hint towards a stronger future. I don’t want Chariots Overdrive to give up on what they’re doing, but if they can merge their punk hooliganism with the finesse they aspire towards in the next album, it’ll be a hit. There’s a lot of highway ahead, but this chariot’s got tread to spare yet.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 84 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Gates of Hell Records
Websites: chariotsoverdrive.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/chariotsoverdrive
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 20265

Manilla Road, Motörhead, and Megaton Sword walk into a bar—Lemmy’s pick, if that helps you picture the place. Someone yells, “cops outside!” The word “cops” clears the room faster than napalm ever could. Stampede. The bands are swept up in the deluge of bodies, bewildered and sweaty. Amidst the chaos, several shuffle into a nearby van. Driving off, they realize that 1) these aren’t their bandmates, 2) this is Di’Anno-era Iron Maiden’s van with their keys and all their equipment left inside, and 3) they picked up Dropkick Murphys somewhere along the way. If this hypothetical group decided to run with it, they would sound like Chariots Overdrive. Hailing from Beijing, China, and currently residing in Atlanta, Georgia, these adherents of the NWoBHM sound old as dirt on their debut, The End of Antiquity, injecting fantastical lyricism inspired by Chinese history and folklore into their mix. But can this van/chariot go the distance, or has this ride seen its last mile?

The End of Antiquity is driven by allegiance to metal in the purest form, and Chariots Overdrive wield it with punk-like tenacity. Speed and belligerence rule The End of Antiquity, embodied in the full-band gang vocals of “Marching Maniacs” and the Dead Kennedys-like discordance of “Parasite.” The belts and snarls singer G.H.Z uses on “A Taikonautic Alchemist” and “Chariots Overdrive”1 would fit as well with Rancid as they do here, and their guitars and bass evoke the aforementioned early Maiden years in the punkish bite (“The End of Antiquity”). Bassist Z.Z.Y lays down aggressively clicky, highly melodic lines across The End of Antiquity, giving Chariots Overdrive a burly-yet-catchy streak akin to Steve Harris’ playing and bolstering G.H.Z and Y.Z’s gnarly dual guitars and W.R.C’s punchy drums into a full-bodied declaration of victory. Chariots Overdrive feel rooted in the simple joy of throwing ragers with the boys, and The End of Antiquity is, if nothing else, a rager.

Chariots Overdrive don’t overcomplicate anything, which is a boon and bane to The End of Antiquity. Most songs play around simple melodies over two to four chords. Guitar solos aren’t flashy on The End of Antiquity, but they’re incisive. When the outcome is exhilarating like “Chariots Overdrive” or Judas Priest-levels of catchy like “Marching Maniacs,” it’s hard to argue. But it also puts the onus of The End of Antiquity’s success on Chariot Overdrive’s performances, which can falter. G.H.Z isn’t a powerhouse vocalist and sounds downright rough at times, especially where Chariot Overdrive attempt harmonization, such as the chorus of “A Taikonautic Alchemist.” It also means that, despite the album’s lean runtime, The End of Antiquity sounds somewhat exhausted by the time “Nomadic Warfare” and the title track appear, as their hooks are comparatively weaker to the rest of the record. I’m all for simplifying something for the sake of effectiveness, but what’s left has to be as tight as you can make it. In this regard, Chariots Overdrive can improve.

What Chariots Overdrive need is a more refined identity. Like early Iron Maiden, Chariots Overdrive seem to strive towards a dirty-yet-sophisticated sound and theming, evidenced by the fingerstyle guitar and serene bass-and-piano interludes of “Where Dust Reigns” and “Sunken Throb,”2 but these instrumentals’ moods aren’t matched or mirrored by the rest of the album and feel tacked-on as a result. The standout, 12-minute song “A Bizarre Pilgrimage to the Cubik Mansion” hints at what Chariots Overdrive can do, as the band navigates artfully between Motörhead’s hyped-up rock n’ roll and Black Sabbathian gloomy doom.3 But the track buckles a bit under its weight by the end and feels done a few minutes before it’s over. Chariots Overdrive are engaging by grit and energy, but without a solid grasp on what exactly they are doing, The End of Antiquity can only be a fun-but-flawed work when taken as a whole.

The End of Antiquity has some flaws, but I still like where the Chariots Overdrive van is going. If you like any of the bands mentioned above it’s a safe bet you’ll get something out of this. There’s obvious chemistry between the band, and their debut has plenty of good moments throughout that are both fun in the present and hint towards a stronger future. I don’t want Chariots Overdrive to give up on what they’re doing, but if they can merge their punk hooliganism with the finesse they aspire towards in the next album, it’ll be a hit. There’s a lot of highway ahead, but this chariot’s got tread to spare yet.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 84 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Gates of Hell Records
Websites: chariotsoverdrive.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/chariotsoverdrive
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 20265

Manilla Road, Motörhead, and Megaton Sword walk into a bar—Lemmy’s pick, if that helps you picture the place. Someone yells, “cops outside!” The word “cops” clears the room faster than napalm ever could. Stampede. The bands are swept up in the deluge of bodies, bewildered and sweaty. Amidst the chaos, several shuffle into a nearby van. Driving off, they realize that 1) these aren’t their bandmates, 2) this is Di’Anno-era Iron Maiden’s van with their keys and all their equipment left inside, and 3) they picked up Dropkick Murphys somewhere along the way. If this hypothetical group decided to run with it, they would sound like Chariots Overdrive. Hailing from Beijing, China, and currently residing in Atlanta, Georgia, these adherents of the NWoBHM sound old as dirt on their debut, The End of Antiquity, injecting fantastical lyricism inspired by Chinese history and folklore into their mix. But can this van/chariot go the distance, or has this ride seen its last mile?

The End of Antiquity is driven by allegiance to metal in the purest form, and Chariots Overdrive wield it with punk-like tenacity. Speed and belligerence rule The End of Antiquity, embodied in the full-band gang vocals of “Marching Maniacs” and the Dead Kennedys-like discordance of “Parasite.” The belts and snarls singer G.H.Z uses on “A Taikonautic Alchemist” and “Chariots Overdrive”1 would fit as well with Rancid as they do here, and their guitars and bass evoke the aforementioned early Maiden years in the punkish bite (“The End of Antiquity”). Bassist Z.Z.Y lays down aggressively clicky, highly melodic lines across The End of Antiquity, giving Chariots Overdrive a burly-yet-catchy streak akin to Steve Harris’ playing and bolstering G.H.Z and Y.Z’s gnarly dual guitars and W.R.C’s punchy drums into a full-bodied declaration of victory. Chariots Overdrive feel rooted in the simple joy of throwing ragers with the boys, and The End of Antiquity is, if nothing else, a rager.

Chariots Overdrive don’t overcomplicate anything, which is a boon and bane to The End of Antiquity. Most songs play around simple melodies over two to four chords. Guitar solos aren’t flashy on The End of Antiquity, but they’re incisive. When the outcome is exhilarating like “Chariots Overdrive” or Judas Priest-levels of catchy like “Marching Maniacs,” it’s hard to argue. But it also puts the onus of The End of Antiquity’s success on Chariot Overdrive’s performances, which can falter. G.H.Z isn’t a powerhouse vocalist and sounds downright rough at times, especially where Chariot Overdrive attempt harmonization, such as the chorus of “A Taikonautic Alchemist.” It also means that, despite the album’s lean runtime, The End of Antiquity sounds somewhat exhausted by the time “Nomadic Warfare” and the title track appear, as their hooks are comparatively weaker to the rest of the record. I’m all for simplifying something for the sake of effectiveness, but what’s left has to be as tight as you can make it. In this regard, Chariots Overdrive can improve.

What Chariots Overdrive need is a more refined identity. Like early Iron Maiden, Chariots Overdrive seem to strive towards a dirty-yet-sophisticated sound and theming, evidenced by the fingerstyle guitar and serene bass-and-piano interludes of “Where Dust Reigns” and “Sunken Throb,”2 but these instrumentals’ moods aren’t matched or mirrored by the rest of the album and feel tacked-on as a result. The standout, 12-minute song “A Bizarre Pilgrimage to the Cubik Mansion” hints at what Chariots Overdrive can do, as the band navigates artfully between Motörhead’s hyped-up rock n’ roll and Black Sabbathian gloomy doom.3 But the track buckles a bit under its weight by the end and feels done a few minutes before it’s over. Chariots Overdrive are engaging by grit and energy, but without a solid grasp on what exactly they are doing, The End of Antiquity can only be a fun-but-flawed work when taken as a whole.

The End of Antiquity has some flaws, but I still like where the Chariots Overdrive van is going. If you like any of the bands mentioned above it’s a safe bet you’ll get something out of this. There’s obvious chemistry between the band, and their debut has plenty of good moments throughout that are both fun in the present and hint towards a stronger future. I don’t want Chariots Overdrive to give up on what they’re doing, but if they can merge their punk hooliganism with the finesse they aspire towards in the next album, it’ll be a hit. There’s a lot of highway ahead, but this chariot’s got tread to spare yet.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 84 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Gates of Hell Records
Websites: chariotsoverdrive.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/chariotsoverdrive
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 20265