#archgoat — Public Fediverse posts

Since getting started in 1989, Finland’s Archgoat have more than earned their place on the Mt. Rushmore of bestial blackened death metal (or “war metal,” for those like-minded fukks who spend too much time on Metal Archives and wear camo shorts to Best Buy). Helmed by twin brothers “Lord Angelslayer” (bass/vocals) and “Ritual Butcherer” (guitars), the group’s formula is simple yet effective: take rushing black metal riffs, add uber-deep growls, downtune the fukk out of the guitars, and throw in a lot of ritualistic, marching breaks that whip live audiences into a godless frenzy. For those who’ve never listened to them, imagine Beherit’s Drawing Down the Moon but more bludgeoning and blasphemous. Since returning from a decade-plus hiatus and releasing their long-awaited debut Whore of Bethlehem in 2006, the band’s albums have shown them honing that core sound while offering minor variations of it, with 2009’s The Light-Devouring Darkness veering closer to the more chaotic side of war metal and 2018’s The Luciferian Crown serving as a career high with its excellent variety and commanding production. Their last album, 2021’s Worship the Eternal Darkness, unfortunately felt a bit like the band was treading water after The Luciferian Crown, making me worried about how their sixth album, Nightbringer, Lightbringer, would fare.

Turns out those worries were for naught, as Nightbringer, Lightbringer shows Archgoat continuing to trample Christianity beneath their hooves with as much conviction as ever. After the requisite ambient intro, the title track blasts forth like a firestorm, scorching your pathetic little ears with stampeding double-bass runs, guttural pigfuck vocals, and pounding mid-paced riffs that force heads to be banged. With lots of pauses and tempo shifts, the track at times feels like it was blown up by a grenade and hastily reassembled, though the grunts of the track title (with dramatic pauses between each word) serve as a catchy anchor that holds everything together. Other than this song, the late-album track, “Reaper of Christianity,” comes the closest to the “classic” Archgoat formula, aside from the pianos that embellish that track’s marching riffs.

Those pianos, it turns out, aren’t the only experimental touches here, as this record shows Archgoat trying more new things than perhaps any other album in the band’s catalog. Several songs feature novel vocal approaches: the relentless assault of “Iconoclasm the Nazarene” has moments of higher-pitched screams that recall Revenge, while “Blood of Jesus Spilling Upon the Earth” employs bits of deep spoken word that might even be pitch-shifted. The latter song also uses passages of spacey, ringing chords that aren’t as powerful as the band’s trademark marching riffs, but are at least different. Perhaps the most notable moment, however, is in “Keys of Hell and Death,” whose epic conclusion is probably the most melodic minute of music the group has ever performed.

Overall, these new touches are welcome, though given how goddamn effective the band’s core sound is, I do wish the record offered a few more “traditional” Archgoat songs. The average tempos also feel slower than usual and, when combined with the heavy use of keyboards, create a sinister, ritualistic feel that may displease those looking for something with more raw bloodthirst. The only real misstep, however, is second proper track, “The Dawn to Armageddon.” The track itself is actually great, with hypnotic mid-paced riffing and keyboard embellishments that together make it sound a bit like old Samael. The problem is that its placement on the tracklist saps the album’s momentum early. Fortunately, songs like “The Light Behind the Horns” and the closing track, “Obsidian Reflection of Anti-Light,” are the perfect antidote, with punky energy and rampaging riffs that make it easy to bang your fukkin head (for the master in hell). Tracks like these are all the more powerful given the clear, full production that lets every layer shine through the darkness while retaining plenty of raw grit.

Apparently, Nightbringer, Lightbringer is about the end of Christianity and the beginning of a new Satanic dawn. The band supports this theme with as much conviction as ever while offering plenty of new embellishments, yet remaining wholly recognizable as the one and only Archgoat. In some ways, Lightbringer, Nightbringer is the epitome of the late-career dilemma: should a band continue doing the same thing or actually try new shit? For Archgoat, the answer is apparently a little bit of both, and the result is yet another Satanic stampede that’s sure to please war metal fans and anyone else looking for a blasphemous good time.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Debemur Morti Productions
Websites: archgoat666.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/archgoat.official
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

Since getting started in 1989, Finland’s Archgoat have more than earned their place on the Mt. Rushmore of bestial blackened death metal (or “war metal,” for those like-minded fukks who spend too much time on Metal Archives and wear camo shorts to Best Buy). Helmed by twin brothers “Lord Angelslayer” (bass/vocals) and “Ritual Butcherer” (guitars), the group’s formula is simple yet effective: take rushing black metal riffs, add uber-deep growls, downtune the fukk out of the guitars, and throw in a lot of ritualistic, marching breaks that whip live audiences into a godless frenzy. For those who’ve never listened to them, imagine Beherit’s Drawing Down the Moon but more bludgeoning and blasphemous. Since returning from a decade-plus hiatus and releasing their long-awaited debut Whore of Bethlehem in 2006, the band’s albums have shown them honing that core sound while offering minor variations of it, with 2009’s The Light-Devouring Darkness veering closer to the more chaotic side of war metal and 2018’s The Luciferian Crown serving as a career high with its excellent variety and commanding production. Their last album, 2021’s Worship the Eternal Darkness, unfortunately felt a bit like the band was treading water after The Luciferian Crown, making me worried about how their sixth album, Nightbringer, Lightbringer, would fare.

Turns out those worries were for naught, as Nightbringer, Lightbringer shows Archgoat continuing to trample Christianity beneath their hooves with as much conviction as ever. After the requisite ambient intro, the title track blasts forth like a firestorm, scorching your pathetic little ears with stampeding double-bass runs, guttural pigfuck vocals, and pounding mid-paced riffs that force heads to be banged. With lots of pauses and tempo shifts, the track at times feels like it was blown up by a grenade and hastily reassembled, though the grunts of the track title (with dramatic pauses between each word) serve as a catchy anchor that holds everything together. Other than this song, the late-album track, “Reaper of Christianity,” comes the closest to the “classic” Archgoat formula, aside from the pianos that embellish that track’s marching riffs.

Those pianos, it turns out, aren’t the only experimental touches here, as this record shows Archgoat trying more new things than perhaps any other album in the band’s catalog. Several songs feature novel vocal approaches: the relentless assault of “Iconoclasm the Nazarene” has moments of higher-pitched screams that recall Revenge, while “Blood of Jesus Spilling Upon the Earth” employs bits of deep spoken word that might even be pitch-shifted. The latter song also uses passages of spacey, ringing chords that aren’t as powerful as the band’s trademark marching riffs, but are at least different. Perhaps the most notable moment, however, is in “Keys of Hell and Death,” whose epic conclusion is probably the most melodic minute of music the group has ever performed.

Overall, these new touches are welcome, though given how goddamn effective the band’s core sound is, I do wish the record offered a few more “traditional” Archgoat songs. The average tempos also feel slower than usual and, when combined with the heavy use of keyboards, create a sinister, ritualistic feel that may displease those looking for something with more raw bloodthirst. The only real misstep, however, is second proper track, “The Dawn to Armageddon.” The track itself is actually great, with hypnotic mid-paced riffing and keyboard embellishments that together make it sound a bit like old Samael. The problem is that its placement on the tracklist saps the album’s momentum early. Fortunately, songs like “The Light Behind the Horns” and the closing track, “Obsidian Reflection of Anti-Light,” are the perfect antidote, with punky energy and rampaging riffs that make it easy to bang your fukkin head (for the master in hell). Tracks like these are all the more powerful given the clear, full production that lets every layer shine through the darkness while retaining plenty of raw grit.

Apparently, Nightbringer, Lightbringer is about the end of Christianity and the beginning of a new Satanic dawn. The band supports this theme with as much conviction as ever while offering plenty of new embellishments, yet remaining wholly recognizable as the one and only Archgoat. In some ways, Lightbringer, Nightbringer is the epitome of the late-career dilemma: should a band continue doing the same thing or actually try new shit? For Archgoat, the answer is apparently a little bit of both, and the result is yet another Satanic stampede that’s sure to please war metal fans and anyone else looking for a blasphemous good time.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Debemur Morti Productions
Websites: archgoat666.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/archgoat.official
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

Since getting started in 1989, Finland’s Archgoat have more than earned their place on the Mt. Rushmore of bestial blackened death metal (or “war metal,” for those like-minded fukks who spend too much time on Metal Archives and wear camo shorts to Best Buy). Helmed by twin brothers “Lord Angelslayer” (bass/vocals) and “Ritual Butcherer” (guitars), the group’s formula is simple yet effective: take rushing black metal riffs, add uber-deep growls, downtune the fukk out of the guitars, and throw in a lot of ritualistic, marching breaks that whip live audiences into a godless frenzy. For those who’ve never listened to them, imagine Beherit’s Drawing Down the Moon but more bludgeoning and blasphemous. Since returning from a decade-plus hiatus and releasing their long-awaited debut Whore of Bethlehem in 2006, the band’s albums have shown them honing that core sound while offering minor variations of it, with 2009’s The Light-Devouring Darkness veering closer to the more chaotic side of war metal and 2018’s The Luciferian Crown serving as a career high with its excellent variety and commanding production. Their last album, 2021’s Worship the Eternal Darkness, unfortunately felt a bit like the band was treading water after The Luciferian Crown, making me worried about how their sixth album, Nightbringer, Lightbringer, would fare.

Turns out those worries were for naught, as Nightbringer, Lightbringer shows Archgoat continuing to trample Christianity beneath their hooves with as much conviction as ever. After the requisite ambient intro, the title track blasts forth like a firestorm, scorching your pathetic little ears with stampeding double-bass runs, guttural pigfuck vocals, and pounding mid-paced riffs that force heads to be banged. With lots of pauses and tempo shifts, the track at times feels like it was blown up by a grenade and hastily reassembled, though the grunts of the track title (with dramatic pauses between each word) serve as a catchy anchor that holds everything together. Other than this song, the late-album track, “Reaper of Christianity,” comes the closest to the “classic” Archgoat formula, aside from the pianos that embellish that track’s marching riffs.

Those pianos, it turns out, aren’t the only experimental touches here, as this record shows Archgoat trying more new things than perhaps any other album in the band’s catalog. Several songs feature novel vocal approaches: the relentless assault of “Iconoclasm the Nazarene” has moments of higher-pitched screams that recall Revenge, while “Blood of Jesus Spilling Upon the Earth” employs bits of deep spoken word that might even be pitch-shifted. The latter song also uses passages of spacey, ringing chords that aren’t as powerful as the band’s trademark marching riffs, but are at least different. Perhaps the most notable moment, however, is in “Keys of Hell and Death,” whose epic conclusion is probably the most melodic minute of music the group has ever performed.

Overall, these new touches are welcome, though given how goddamn effective the band’s core sound is, I do wish the record offered a few more “traditional” Archgoat songs. The average tempos also feel slower than usual and, when combined with the heavy use of keyboards, create a sinister, ritualistic feel that may displease those looking for something with more raw bloodthirst. The only real misstep, however, is second proper track, “The Dawn to Armageddon.” The track itself is actually great, with hypnotic mid-paced riffing and keyboard embellishments that together make it sound a bit like old Samael. The problem is that its placement on the tracklist saps the album’s momentum early. Fortunately, songs like “The Light Behind the Horns” and the closing track, “Obsidian Reflection of Anti-Light,” are the perfect antidote, with punky energy and rampaging riffs that make it easy to bang your fukkin head (for the master in hell). Tracks like these are all the more powerful given the clear, full production that lets every layer shine through the darkness while retaining plenty of raw grit.

Apparently, Nightbringer, Lightbringer is about the end of Christianity and the beginning of a new Satanic dawn. The band supports this theme with as much conviction as ever while offering plenty of new embellishments, yet remaining wholly recognizable as the one and only Archgoat. In some ways, Lightbringer, Nightbringer is the epitome of the late-career dilemma: should a band continue doing the same thing or actually try new shit? For Archgoat, the answer is apparently a little bit of both, and the result is yet another Satanic stampede that’s sure to please war metal fans and anyone else looking for a blasphemous good time.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Debemur Morti Productions
Websites: archgoat666.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/archgoat.official
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

Since getting started in 1989, Finland’s Archgoat have more than earned their place on the Mt. Rushmore of bestial blackened death metal (or “war metal,” for those like-minded fukks who spend too much time on Metal Archives and wear camo shorts to Best Buy). Helmed by twin brothers “Lord Angelslayer” (bass/vocals) and “Ritual Butcherer” (guitars), the group’s formula is simple yet effective: take rushing black metal riffs, add uber-deep growls, downtune the fukk out of the guitars, and throw in a lot of ritualistic, marching breaks that whip live audiences into a godless frenzy. For those who’ve never listened to them, imagine Beherit’s Drawing Down the Moon but more bludgeoning and blasphemous. Since returning from a decade-plus hiatus and releasing their long-awaited debut Whore of Bethlehem in 2006, the band’s albums have shown them honing that core sound while offering minor variations of it, with 2009’s The Light-Devouring Darkness veering closer to the more chaotic side of war metal and 2018’s The Luciferian Crown serving as a career high with its excellent variety and commanding production. Their last album, 2021’s Worship the Eternal Darkness, unfortunately felt a bit like the band was treading water after The Luciferian Crown, making me worried about how their sixth album, Nightbringer, Lightbringer, would fare.

Turns out those worries were for naught, as Nightbringer, Lightbringer shows Archgoat continuing to trample Christianity beneath their hooves with as much conviction as ever. After the requisite ambient intro, the title track blasts forth like a firestorm, scorching your pathetic little ears with stampeding double-bass runs, guttural pigfuck vocals, and pounding mid-paced riffs that force heads to be banged. With lots of pauses and tempo shifts, the track at times feels like it was blown up by a grenade and hastily reassembled, though the grunts of the track title (with dramatic pauses between each word) serve as a catchy anchor that holds everything together. Other than this song, the late-album track, “Reaper of Christianity,” comes the closest to the “classic” Archgoat formula, aside from the pianos that embellish that track’s marching riffs.

Those pianos, it turns out, aren’t the only experimental touches here, as this record shows Archgoat trying more new things than perhaps any other album in the band’s catalog. Several songs feature novel vocal approaches: the relentless assault of “Iconoclasm the Nazarene” has moments of higher-pitched screams that recall Revenge, while “Blood of Jesus Spilling Upon the Earth” employs bits of deep spoken word that might even be pitch-shifted. The latter song also uses passages of spacey, ringing chords that aren’t as powerful as the band’s trademark marching riffs, but are at least different. Perhaps the most notable moment, however, is in “Keys of Hell and Death,” whose epic conclusion is probably the most melodic minute of music the group has ever performed.

Overall, these new touches are welcome, though given how goddamn effective the band’s core sound is, I do wish the record offered a few more “traditional” Archgoat songs. The average tempos also feel slower than usual and, when combined with the heavy use of keyboards, create a sinister, ritualistic feel that may displease those looking for something with more raw bloodthirst. The only real misstep, however, is second proper track, “The Dawn to Armageddon.” The track itself is actually great, with hypnotic mid-paced riffing and keyboard embellishments that together make it sound a bit like old Samael. The problem is that its placement on the tracklist saps the album’s momentum early. Fortunately, songs like “The Light Behind the Horns” and the closing track, “Obsidian Reflection of Anti-Light,” are the perfect antidote, with punky energy and rampaging riffs that make it easy to bang your fukkin head (for the master in hell). Tracks like these are all the more powerful given the clear, full production that lets every layer shine through the darkness while retaining plenty of raw grit.

Apparently, Nightbringer, Lightbringer is about the end of Christianity and the beginning of a new Satanic dawn. The band supports this theme with as much conviction as ever while offering plenty of new embellishments, yet remaining wholly recognizable as the one and only Archgoat. In some ways, Lightbringer, Nightbringer is the epitome of the late-career dilemma: should a band continue doing the same thing or actually try new shit? For Archgoat, the answer is apparently a little bit of both, and the result is yet another Satanic stampede that’s sure to please war metal fans and anyone else looking for a blasphemous good time.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Debemur Morti Productions
Websites: archgoat666.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/archgoat.official
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

Since getting started in 1989, Finland’s Archgoat have more than earned their place on the Mt. Rushmore of bestial blackened death metal (or “war metal,” for those like-minded fukks who spend too much time on Metal Archives and wear camo shorts to Best Buy). Helmed by twin brothers “Lord Angelslayer” (bass/vocals) and “Ritual Butcherer” (guitars), the group’s formula is simple yet effective: take rushing black metal riffs, add uber-deep growls, downtune the fukk out of the guitars, and throw in a lot of ritualistic, marching breaks that whip live audiences into a godless frenzy. For those who’ve never listened to them, imagine Beherit’s Drawing Down the Moon but more bludgeoning and blasphemous. Since returning from a decade-plus hiatus and releasing their long-awaited debut Whore of Bethlehem in 2006, the band’s albums have shown them honing that core sound while offering minor variations of it, with 2009’s The Light-Devouring Darkness veering closer to the more chaotic side of war metal and 2018’s The Luciferian Crown serving as a career high with its excellent variety and commanding production. Their last album, 2021’s Worship the Eternal Darkness, unfortunately felt a bit like the band was treading water after The Luciferian Crown, making me worried about how their sixth album, Nightbringer, Lightbringer, would fare.

Turns out those worries were for naught, as Nightbringer, Lightbringer shows Archgoat continuing to trample Christianity beneath their hooves with as much conviction as ever. After the requisite ambient intro, the title track blasts forth like a firestorm, scorching your pathetic little ears with stampeding double-bass runs, guttural pigfuck vocals, and pounding mid-paced riffs that force heads to be banged. With lots of pauses and tempo shifts, the track at times feels like it was blown up by a grenade and hastily reassembled, though the grunts of the track title (with dramatic pauses between each word) serve as a catchy anchor that holds everything together. Other than this song, the late-album track, “Reaper of Christianity,” comes the closest to the “classic” Archgoat formula, aside from the pianos that embellish that track’s marching riffs.

Those pianos, it turns out, aren’t the only experimental touches here, as this record shows Archgoat trying more new things than perhaps any other album in the band’s catalog. Several songs feature novel vocal approaches: the relentless assault of “Iconoclasm the Nazarene” has moments of higher-pitched screams that recall Revenge, while “Blood of Jesus Spilling Upon the Earth” employs bits of deep spoken word that might even be pitch-shifted. The latter song also uses passages of spacey, ringing chords that aren’t as powerful as the band’s trademark marching riffs, but are at least different. Perhaps the most notable moment, however, is in “Keys of Hell and Death,” whose epic conclusion is probably the most melodic minute of music the group has ever performed.

Overall, these new touches are welcome, though given how goddamn effective the band’s core sound is, I do wish the record offered a few more “traditional” Archgoat songs. The average tempos also feel slower than usual and, when combined with the heavy use of keyboards, create a sinister, ritualistic feel that may displease those looking for something with more raw bloodthirst. The only real misstep, however, is second proper track, “The Dawn to Armageddon.” The track itself is actually great, with hypnotic mid-paced riffing and keyboard embellishments that together make it sound a bit like old Samael. The problem is that its placement on the tracklist saps the album’s momentum early. Fortunately, songs like “The Light Behind the Horns” and the closing track, “Obsidian Reflection of Anti-Light,” are the perfect antidote, with punky energy and rampaging riffs that make it easy to bang your fukkin head (for the master in hell). Tracks like these are all the more powerful given the clear, full production that lets every layer shine through the darkness while retaining plenty of raw grit.

Apparently, Nightbringer, Lightbringer is about the end of Christianity and the beginning of a new Satanic dawn. The band supports this theme with as much conviction as ever while offering plenty of new embellishments, yet remaining wholly recognizable as the one and only Archgoat. In some ways, Lightbringer, Nightbringer is the epitome of the late-career dilemma: should a band continue doing the same thing or actually try new shit? For Archgoat, the answer is apparently a little bit of both, and the result is yet another Satanic stampede that’s sure to please war metal fans and anyone else looking for a blasphemous good time.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Debemur Morti Productions
Websites: archgoat666.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/archgoat.official
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

Blutsauger – Nocturnal Blood Tyrants

By Alekhines Gun

Raw black metal is a tricky proposition. There’s an extremely thin line to walk between production choices designed to add mood and atmosphere to compositions via a wall of auditory fog and production choices that sound like someone threw their equipment down….wait, haven’t we done this already? We sure have, and boy oh boy have we landed on the opposite side of the coin. While Italy is most known for its symphonic (Fleshgod Apocolypse) and tech death (Hour of Penance) scenes, its black metal collective is also alive and well, doing their own thing in their dark corner of the world. Today’s offering is the debut release by duo Blutsauger (German for “Bloodsucker”), coming hot off the heels of sole demo Path of the Bleeding Dead. A gander at that colorless, bleak art aptly spells out the whole mission statement, as Nocturnal Blood Tyrants comes to land blackened crowbars to your very glass jaws, with not a dollop of fun to be found.

How raw is raw? Nocturnal Blood Tyrants is an abrasive, loud, violent listen, with treble turned up wide into a blast furnace of sound over Archgoat-esque drum savagery and not a glimmer of bass (instrument or tone) detected in the ensuing fallout. Utilizing the searing, caustic approach of Dethroned, Conquered and Forgotten era Judas Iscariot with the gain cranked up to 11, Blutsauger aren’t here to be memorable as much as overwhelming. “The Black Hunters” shows the album’s blueprint in all its blackened glory, with a flood of chords collapsing from one quick shift to the next as the drums1 charge relentlessly underneath the tornado of tones. In terms of presentation, Nocturnal Blood Tyrants never lets up, with no chords ever obtaining warmth and vocals maintaining a Blasphemous perpetual pitch throughout the release.

Wisely, Blutsauger make up for this uninviting presentation with a good variety in their riff approach. On average, Nocturnal Blood Tyrants uses an A/B phrasing, where a song comes out blasting and shredding with blood and vinegar before using tempo shifts to craft moments of individuality and personality. “Black Shroud Ritual” is a key example, with a sudden swerve of a slowdown that evolves into straightforward headbangability with the drums presenting some brief moments of real rhythmic transitions and one to two-measure fills. This approach is developed over the course of the album, where what begins as a clear and concise formula starts to grow roots and blossom into something more mature and layered the deeper into the listen you go. This variety in riffing is a welcome reprieve for what would threaten to be a completely flavorless haze of a listen.

Curiously, this results in the more interesting ideas of Nocturnal Blood Tyrants being located in the back half. Title track “Nocturnal Blood Tyrants” flirts with sustained, depressive open chords for a prolonged passage, with the drums presenting military style rolls and staccato-heavy fills. “Wash Them With Fire” sports the album’s first actual lead and consequently stands out like a lightning bolt in a clear sky, particularly when the drums switch their stylings into china-heavy accents and fills before dropping into a vintage Tsjuder tank-plodding attack. Blutsauger even try their hand at the greatest trope in all genres of metal (Le epic grand finale track) with a doomy tempo and a complete lack of the speed and ruthless assaults of the preceding 27 minutes. This exhausted display, the sound of an outfit spent of all their energy and wrath, but never of their sardonicism and anger, makes for a surprisingly efficient album closer by contrast, even if the samples used are wasted in the mix.

Much like a really well-made horror movie, I can’t see myself returning to Nocturnal Blood Tyrants often unless the mood strikes, but only because of how well it accomplishes what it sets out to do. Blutsauger crafted a release that is utterly devoid of anything that could be called beautiful, attractive, or endearing. Its production is violent on the ears, its chord progressions never become softer than “melancholic”, and its tonal palette is as warm as your ex’s heart. But for the spirit of raw black metal, such traits are ringing endorsements. A careful attention to riffcraft and refusal to let the production overtake the importance of actual songwriting have conjured forth an album of genuine quality, if not of approachability. Raw black metal is a tricky proposition, and if you’re on team No Fun in metal2. I cannot imagine this leaving anything but a blackened frown on your face.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 103 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: ATMF
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: August 29th, 2025

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