#archspire — Public Fediverse posts

“Scordatura” is an Italian word that means “mistuning.” This is a technique used for stringed instruments to allow for bizarre chords, or to simplify progressions that would require a lot of tendon mutilation to achieve in normal tunings. It’s a dope name, a cool concept, and an example of metal’s infinite ability to make badass monikers out of otherwise clinical, innocent terminology. Hailing from Scotland, rather than the land of leaning towers and opera, Scordatura have arrived with their 4th opus, Led Into Oblivion. Between their choice of title and their selection of album name, what sort of hellish soundscape awaits within?

With a name rooted in deep music theory, you’d expect an assault in the vein of Replicant or modern Pestilence. This is not the case. Scordatura lay their foundations off a respectable set of giant shoulders, featuring a high octane assault flavored primarily with the self-titled era of Cryptopsy. Drums are blasted, guitar strings are shredded, and the tempo maintains a consistently blurry pace. “Retali(H)ate” and “Led Into Oblivion” feature start-stop riffing with vocalist Daryl Boyce sounding like the lost brother of Matt McGachy in his earlier days, with the occasional sustained chord letting drummer Tam Moran show off flair and chops with rapid-fire cymbal fills. Doses of classic Vader stomp pepper “Oppressed Repressed”, and nods to Suffocation run through “Echoes of a Fractured Mind”. The flavor of the olde and trve are deeply embedded throughout the construction of Led Into Oblivion, all filtered through an exuberant attack that rarely pauses for breath.

In keeping with the stylings, Led Into Oblivion also keeps up with the sound. This album is meaty, layered, and not the most dynamic beast, but all instruments are given room to breathe by brutal death standards. A healthy dollop of pinch harmonics flow throughout the riff construction, and bassist Liam McCafferty is constantly heard clanging away in the background with the occasional spotlight given for a fill or scale. The concise runtime (about the length of Reign in Blood, yet another nod to the building blocks of greats) ensures ear fatigue doesn’t set in despite the perpetually speedy approach. A good track order does keep variety from cut to cut, with “A Manic Indoctrination” featuring open chord progressions and our first dose of real mid-tempo sound before the drums resume blasting away under the building menace. While being a well-arranged list of brutal death tropes, Scordatura wisely leave the concrete brick styled production in the past.

The only major blemish on Led Into Oblivion is a common one, but one that cannot be overlooked. Scordatura have spent so much time distilling the essence of the greats into their overall sound without capturing the distinguishing factors that made them great. “Existential Termination” dalliances with downtempo Cannibal Corpse, and the grindier moments of WWtFW era Dying Fetus as well as Deicide raise their head, but these snapshots lack the staying power of those names. Led Into Oblivion is an enjoyable release without any significant flaws, but it’s difficult to recall any standout moments once the album reaches its conclusion. This is disappointing, as Scordatura clearly have the skills to emulate all of these bands, but can’t quite stick the landing on a stank face triggering “rewind it and listen again” moment to distinguish it from their mountain of peers. Closer “Begging to Die” is an easy illustration, goes full New York style with a bouncy main riff which smacks of modern Pyrexia groove before trying to drop an Archspire verse (sans the vocals) and leads the listener to a thunderous but blurred conclusion.

Despite a name implying forays into the more uncomfortable realms of death, Scordatura have offered up a platter of decent-grade tribute to the death of olde. Led Into Oblivion isn’t a bad album, and is definitely worth a casual listen or three. But the band is still on the hunt for the X Factor to push them beyond their influences. They certainly have the playing chops, and I believe the compositional ability to make it come together. For now, let yourself be Led Into Oblivion and hear a good combination of the sounds of yore; just don’t be surprised when you find yourself wishing you were listening to their influences instead.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Everlasting Spew Records
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

“Scordatura” is an Italian word that means “mistuning.” This is a technique used for stringed instruments to allow for bizarre chords, or to simplify progressions that would require a lot of tendon mutilation to achieve in normal tunings. It’s a dope name, a cool concept, and an example of metal’s infinite ability to make badass monikers out of otherwise clinical, innocent terminology. Hailing from Scotland, rather than the land of leaning towers and opera, Scordatura have arrived with their 4th opus, Led Into Oblivion. Between their choice of title and their selection of album name, what sort of hellish soundscape awaits within?

With a name rooted in deep music theory, you’d expect an assault in the vein of Replicant or modern Pestilence. This is not the case. Scordatura lay their foundations off a respectable set of giant shoulders, featuring a high octane assault flavored primarily with the self-titled era of Cryptopsy. Drums are blasted, guitar strings are shredded, and the tempo maintains a consistently blurry pace. “Retali(H)ate” and “Led Into Oblivion” feature start-stop riffing with vocalist Daryl Boyce sounding like the lost brother of Matt McGachy in his earlier days, with the occasional sustained chord letting drummer Tam Moran show off flair and chops with rapid-fire cymbal fills. Doses of classic Vader stomp pepper “Oppressed Repressed”, and nods to Suffocation run through “Echoes of a Fractured Mind”. The flavor of the olde and trve are deeply embedded throughout the construction of Led Into Oblivion, all filtered through an exuberant attack that rarely pauses for breath.

In keeping with the stylings, Led Into Oblivion also keeps up with the sound. This album is meaty, layered, and not the most dynamic beast, but all instruments are given room to breathe by brutal death standards. A healthy dollop of pinch harmonics flow throughout the riff construction, and bassist Liam McCafferty is constantly heard clanging away in the background with the occasional spotlight given for a fill or scale. The concise runtime (about the length of Reign in Blood, yet another nod to the building blocks of greats) ensures ear fatigue doesn’t set in despite the perpetually speedy approach. A good track order does keep variety from cut to cut, with “A Manic Indoctrination” featuring open chord progressions and our first dose of real mid-tempo sound before the drums resume blasting away under the building menace. While being a well-arranged list of brutal death tropes, Scordatura wisely leave the concrete brick styled production in the past.

The only major blemish on Led Into Oblivion is a common one, but one that cannot be overlooked. Scordatura have spent so much time distilling the essence of the greats into their overall sound without capturing the distinguishing factors that made them great. “Existential Termination” dalliances with downtempo Cannibal Corpse, and the grindier moments of WWtFW era Dying Fetus as well as Deicide raise their head, but these snapshots lack the staying power of those names. Led Into Oblivion is an enjoyable release without any significant flaws, but it’s difficult to recall any standout moments once the album reaches its conclusion. This is disappointing, as Scordatura clearly have the skills to emulate all of these bands, but can’t quite stick the landing on a stank face triggering “rewind it and listen again” moment to distinguish it from their mountain of peers. Closer “Begging to Die” is an easy illustration, goes full New York style with a bouncy main riff which smacks of modern Pyrexia groove before trying to drop an Archspire verse (sans the vocals) and leads the listener to a thunderous but blurred conclusion.

Despite a name implying forays into the more uncomfortable realms of death, Scordatura have offered up a platter of decent-grade tribute to the death of olde. Led Into Oblivion isn’t a bad album, and is definitely worth a casual listen or three. But the band is still on the hunt for the X Factor to push them beyond their influences. They certainly have the playing chops, and I believe the compositional ability to make it come together. For now, let yourself be Led Into Oblivion and hear a good combination of the sounds of yore; just don’t be surprised when you find yourself wishing you were listening to their influences instead.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Everlasting Spew Records
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

“Scordatura” is an Italian word that means “mistuning.” This is a technique used for stringed instruments to allow for bizarre chords, or to simplify progressions that would require a lot of tendon mutilation to achieve in normal tunings. It’s a dope name, a cool concept, and an example of metal’s infinite ability to make badass monikers out of otherwise clinical, innocent terminology. Hailing from Scotland, rather than the land of leaning towers and opera, Scordatura have arrived with their 4th opus, Led Into Oblivion. Between their choice of title and their selection of album name, what sort of hellish soundscape awaits within?

With a name rooted in deep music theory, you’d expect an assault in the vein of Replicant or modern Pestilence. This is not the case. Scordatura lay their foundations off a respectable set of giant shoulders, featuring a high octane assault flavored primarily with the self-titled era of Cryptopsy. Drums are blasted, guitar strings are shredded, and the tempo maintains a consistently blurry pace. “Retali(H)ate” and “Led Into Oblivion” feature start-stop riffing with vocalist Daryl Boyce sounding like the lost brother of Matt McGachy in his earlier days, with the occasional sustained chord letting drummer Tam Moran show off flair and chops with rapid-fire cymbal fills. Doses of classic Vader stomp pepper “Oppressed Repressed”, and nods to Suffocation run through “Echoes of a Fractured Mind”. The flavor of the olde and trve are deeply embedded throughout the construction of Led Into Oblivion, all filtered through an exuberant attack that rarely pauses for breath.

In keeping with the stylings, Led Into Oblivion also keeps up with the sound. This album is meaty, layered, and not the most dynamic beast, but all instruments are given room to breathe by brutal death standards. A healthy dollop of pinch harmonics flow throughout the riff construction, and bassist Liam McCafferty is constantly heard clanging away in the background with the occasional spotlight given for a fill or scale. The concise runtime (about the length of Reign in Blood, yet another nod to the building blocks of greats) ensures ear fatigue doesn’t set in despite the perpetually speedy approach. A good track order does keep variety from cut to cut, with “A Manic Indoctrination” featuring open chord progressions and our first dose of real mid-tempo sound before the drums resume blasting away under the building menace. While being a well-arranged list of brutal death tropes, Scordatura wisely leave the concrete brick styled production in the past.

The only major blemish on Led Into Oblivion is a common one, but one that cannot be overlooked. Scordatura have spent so much time distilling the essence of the greats into their overall sound without capturing the distinguishing factors that made them great. “Existential Termination” dalliances with downtempo Cannibal Corpse, and the grindier moments of WWtFW era Dying Fetus as well as Deicide raise their head, but these snapshots lack the staying power of those names. Led Into Oblivion is an enjoyable release without any significant flaws, but it’s difficult to recall any standout moments once the album reaches its conclusion. This is disappointing, as Scordatura clearly have the skills to emulate all of these bands, but can’t quite stick the landing on a stank face triggering “rewind it and listen again” moment to distinguish it from their mountain of peers. Closer “Begging to Die” is an easy illustration, goes full New York style with a bouncy main riff which smacks of modern Pyrexia groove before trying to drop an Archspire verse (sans the vocals) and leads the listener to a thunderous but blurred conclusion.

Despite a name implying forays into the more uncomfortable realms of death, Scordatura have offered up a platter of decent-grade tribute to the death of olde. Led Into Oblivion isn’t a bad album, and is definitely worth a casual listen or three. But the band is still on the hunt for the X Factor to push them beyond their influences. They certainly have the playing chops, and I believe the compositional ability to make it come together. For now, let yourself be Led Into Oblivion and hear a good combination of the sounds of yore; just don’t be surprised when you find yourself wishing you were listening to their influences instead.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Everlasting Spew Records
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

“Scordatura” is an Italian word that means “mistuning.” This is a technique used for stringed instruments to allow for bizarre chords, or to simplify progressions that would require a lot of tendon mutilation to achieve in normal tunings. It’s a dope name, a cool concept, and an example of metal’s infinite ability to make badass monikers out of otherwise clinical, innocent terminology. Hailing from Scotland, rather than the land of leaning towers and opera, Scordatura have arrived with their 4th opus, Led Into Oblivion. Between their choice of title and their selection of album name, what sort of hellish soundscape awaits within?

With a name rooted in deep music theory, you’d expect an assault in the vein of Replicant or modern Pestilence. This is not the case. Scordatura lay their foundations off a respectable set of giant shoulders, featuring a high octane assault flavored primarily with the self-titled era of Cryptopsy. Drums are blasted, guitar strings are shredded, and the tempo maintains a consistently blurry pace. “Retali(H)ate” and “Led Into Oblivion” feature start-stop riffing with vocalist Daryl Boyce sounding like the lost brother of Matt McGachy in his earlier days, with the occasional sustained chord letting drummer Tam Moran show off flair and chops with rapid-fire cymbal fills. Doses of classic Vader stomp pepper “Oppressed Repressed”, and nods to Suffocation run through “Echoes of a Fractured Mind”. The flavor of the olde and trve are deeply embedded throughout the construction of Led Into Oblivion, all filtered through an exuberant attack that rarely pauses for breath.

In keeping with the stylings, Led Into Oblivion also keeps up with the sound. This album is meaty, layered, and not the most dynamic beast, but all instruments are given room to breathe by brutal death standards. A healthy dollop of pinch harmonics flow throughout the riff construction, and bassist Liam McCafferty is constantly heard clanging away in the background with the occasional spotlight given for a fill or scale. The concise runtime (about the length of Reign in Blood, yet another nod to the building blocks of greats) ensures ear fatigue doesn’t set in despite the perpetually speedy approach. A good track order does keep variety from cut to cut, with “A Manic Indoctrination” featuring open chord progressions and our first dose of real mid-tempo sound before the drums resume blasting away under the building menace. While being a well-arranged list of brutal death tropes, Scordatura wisely leave the concrete brick styled production in the past.

The only major blemish on Led Into Oblivion is a common one, but one that cannot be overlooked. Scordatura have spent so much time distilling the essence of the greats into their overall sound without capturing the distinguishing factors that made them great. “Existential Termination” dalliances with downtempo Cannibal Corpse, and the grindier moments of WWtFW era Dying Fetus as well as Deicide raise their head, but these snapshots lack the staying power of those names. Led Into Oblivion is an enjoyable release without any significant flaws, but it’s difficult to recall any standout moments once the album reaches its conclusion. This is disappointing, as Scordatura clearly have the skills to emulate all of these bands, but can’t quite stick the landing on a stank face triggering “rewind it and listen again” moment to distinguish it from their mountain of peers. Closer “Begging to Die” is an easy illustration, goes full New York style with a bouncy main riff which smacks of modern Pyrexia groove before trying to drop an Archspire verse (sans the vocals) and leads the listener to a thunderous but blurred conclusion.

Despite a name implying forays into the more uncomfortable realms of death, Scordatura have offered up a platter of decent-grade tribute to the death of olde. Led Into Oblivion isn’t a bad album, and is definitely worth a casual listen or three. But the band is still on the hunt for the X Factor to push them beyond their influences. They certainly have the playing chops, and I believe the compositional ability to make it come together. For now, let yourself be Led Into Oblivion and hear a good combination of the sounds of yore; just don’t be surprised when you find yourself wishing you were listening to their influences instead.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Everlasting Spew Records
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

“Scordatura” is an Italian word that means “mistuning.” This is a technique used for stringed instruments to allow for bizarre chords, or to simplify progressions that would require a lot of tendon mutilation to achieve in normal tunings. It’s a dope name, a cool concept, and an example of metal’s infinite ability to make badass monikers out of otherwise clinical, innocent terminology. Hailing from Scotland, rather than the land of leaning towers and opera, Scordatura have arrived with their 4th opus, Led Into Oblivion. Between their choice of title and their selection of album name, what sort of hellish soundscape awaits within?

With a name rooted in deep music theory, you’d expect an assault in the vein of Replicant or modern Pestilence. This is not the case. Scordatura lay their foundations off a respectable set of giant shoulders, featuring a high octane assault flavored primarily with the self-titled era of Cryptopsy. Drums are blasted, guitar strings are shredded, and the tempo maintains a consistently blurry pace. “Retali(H)ate” and “Led Into Oblivion” feature start-stop riffing with vocalist Daryl Boyce sounding like the lost brother of Matt McGachy in his earlier days, with the occasional sustained chord letting drummer Tam Moran show off flair and chops with rapid-fire cymbal fills. Doses of classic Vader stomp pepper “Oppressed Repressed”, and nods to Suffocation run through “Echoes of a Fractured Mind”. The flavor of the olde and trve are deeply embedded throughout the construction of Led Into Oblivion, all filtered through an exuberant attack that rarely pauses for breath.

In keeping with the stylings, Led Into Oblivion also keeps up with the sound. This album is meaty, layered, and not the most dynamic beast, but all instruments are given room to breathe by brutal death standards. A healthy dollop of pinch harmonics flow throughout the riff construction, and bassist Liam McCafferty is constantly heard clanging away in the background with the occasional spotlight given for a fill or scale. The concise runtime (about the length of Reign in Blood, yet another nod to the building blocks of greats) ensures ear fatigue doesn’t set in despite the perpetually speedy approach. A good track order does keep variety from cut to cut, with “A Manic Indoctrination” featuring open chord progressions and our first dose of real mid-tempo sound before the drums resume blasting away under the building menace. While being a well-arranged list of brutal death tropes, Scordatura wisely leave the concrete brick styled production in the past.

The only major blemish on Led Into Oblivion is a common one, but one that cannot be overlooked. Scordatura have spent so much time distilling the essence of the greats into their overall sound without capturing the distinguishing factors that made them great. “Existential Termination” dalliances with downtempo Cannibal Corpse, and the grindier moments of WWtFW era Dying Fetus as well as Deicide raise their head, but these snapshots lack the staying power of those names. Led Into Oblivion is an enjoyable release without any significant flaws, but it’s difficult to recall any standout moments once the album reaches its conclusion. This is disappointing, as Scordatura clearly have the skills to emulate all of these bands, but can’t quite stick the landing on a stank face triggering “rewind it and listen again” moment to distinguish it from their mountain of peers. Closer “Begging to Die” is an easy illustration, goes full New York style with a bouncy main riff which smacks of modern Pyrexia groove before trying to drop an Archspire verse (sans the vocals) and leads the listener to a thunderous but blurred conclusion.

Despite a name implying forays into the more uncomfortable realms of death, Scordatura have offered up a platter of decent-grade tribute to the death of olde. Led Into Oblivion isn’t a bad album, and is definitely worth a casual listen or three. But the band is still on the hunt for the X Factor to push them beyond their influences. They certainly have the playing chops, and I believe the compositional ability to make it come together. For now, let yourself be Led Into Oblivion and hear a good combination of the sounds of yore; just don’t be surprised when you find yourself wishing you were listening to their influences instead.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Everlasting Spew Records
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

Nie pisałem o tym chyba jeszcze tutaj. Otóż, jest taki kanał na YT jak Musora - biorą zespoły z różnych nurtów (np. indie pop), puszczają im utwór z zupełnie innego gatunku i dają czas na zrobienie coveru. Jest sympatycznie, można zobaczyć muzyków przy pracy, a efekty bywają zaskakujące. Nawiasem mówiąc, ten kanał jest z tej samej stajni co bardziej znane Drumeo, gdzie perkusiści mierzą się z pierwszy raz słyszanymi utworami (też polecam).

No i ostatnio do Musory zaprosili #Archspire - jeśli ktoś nie wie, to jest to techniczny death metal, ale przede wszystkim zespół wirtuozów technicznych, który nie udaje, że tworzy coś więcej niż rozrywkę i pokaz swoich zdolności. Panowie do tego mają poczucie humoru. Grają BARDZO szybko, wokal także jest... pospieszny. No i dostali do scoverowania k-popową gwiazdę Rose i Bruno Marsa oraz ich utwór "APT.". Efekt?

Pierwszy film to odkrycie utworu, a drugi to już praca nad coverem.

1. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x-05Soq75Q8
2. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8FeShkseXDE

@muzykametalowa #muzyka #Metal #MetalPany

Nie pisałem o tym chyba jeszcze tutaj. Otóż, jest taki kanał na YT jak Musora - biorą zespoły z różnych nurtów (np. indie pop), puszczają im utwór z zupełnie innego gatunku i dają czas na zrobienie coveru. Jest sympatycznie, można zobaczyć muzyków przy pracy, a efekty bywają zaskakujące. Nawiasem mówiąc, ten kanał jest z tej samej stajni co bardziej znane Drumeo, gdzie perkusiści mierzą się z pierwszy raz słyszanymi utworami (też polecam).

No i ostatnio do Musory zaprosili #Archspire - jeśli ktoś nie wie, to jest to techniczny death metal, ale przede wszystkim zespół wirtuozów technicznych, który nie udaje, że tworzy coś więcej niż rozrywkę i pokaz swoich zdolności. Panowie do tego mają poczucie humoru. Grają BARDZO szybko, wokal także jest... pospieszny. No i dostali do scoverowania k-popową gwiazdę Rose i Bruno Marsa oraz ich utwór "APT.". Efekt?

Pierwszy film to odkrycie utworu, a drugi to już praca nad coverem.

1. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x-05Soq75Q8
2. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8FeShkseXDE

@muzykametalowa #muzyka #Metal #MetalPany

After releasing debut LP Prodigy of the Grotesque in 2020, Canada’s Goreworm re-emerges from their burrow with follow-up full-length Miasmic Solitude. Prodigy of the Grotesque enchanted me when I ran across it a few years ago—sweeping guitars, slick bass grooves, and a deliciously vigorous percussive cannonade made for a tasty tech death treat. Now six years later, Goreworm has metamorphosed from the band that dropped Prodigy. Vocalist Jesse Suess and founding members drummer Sean Bruce and bassist Derek Gibbs bid adieu, leaving guitarists Jordan Estrela and Brent Moerschfelder to carry the torch. For Miasmic Solitude, Goreworm rounds out the ensemble with session drummer Robin Stone (Ashen Horde, Chestcrush), who flayed the skins on 2021 EP Plague of Shadows, and vocalist Robert Miller (Antheraea). With a revitalized crew and a fresh batch of jams in hand, can Miasmic Solitude worm its way into your heart?

Technical death metal can be a tough genre to craft thoughtful songs within. The most immediate hurdle is technical chops—if you can’t muster the dexterity to pull off instrumental mayhem, you’re sunk. Yet the ability to play at blistering speeds with robotic fidelity isn’t enough on its own; it’s merely the price of admission. To transcend in the genre as the best from Necrophagist, Obscura, and Archspire have, you need crystalline mechanics embedded within engrossing and memorable compositions. Goreworm’s brand of death metal lands amidst the likes of The Black Dahlia Murder, Vale of Pnath and Abysmal Dawn, sporting burly riffs played at head-spinning velocity with occasional splashes of neoclassical color. This, at least, ensures the price of admission has been paid in full.

Goreworm members old and new unleash the razzle-dazzle on Miasmic Solitude as they pump gallons of adrenalized ear candy into its compositions. Estrela and Moerschfelder beget a sinewy string section, uncorking spidery leads that dash along fretboards with muscle and venom (“Monuments to Murdering,” “Miasmic Solitude”). Moerschfelder pulls double duty on the low-end, too, clanging and banging with satisfying heft. I only wish he broke away more from playing under the guitars and locking into root notes. To be clear, this is a nitpick on style and not a comment on his ability to bring the thunder. It’s just that compared to Gibbs’ bass on Prodigy of the Grotesque, Miasmic Solitude loses a dimension that helped set Goreworm’s debut apart. Meanwhile, Stone supplies a magnificent performance behind the kit, unfettering smooth rolls à la Chris Adler (“Amor Vincit Omnia”) and hammer-smashing cavalcades that recall the ferocity of Cannibal Corpse’s Paul Marzurkiewicz fused with the grace of Dirk Verbeuren (“No Reprieve”). Robert Miller proves a capable vocalist, and though his performance isn’t particularly dynamic, he supports the music well and sounds credibly savage throughout.

Goreworm crackles with vitality throughout Miasmic Solitude, yet the entirety falls short of the promise of its performances. The production proves a mixed bag, allowing the guitars and vocals to shine at the expense of the drums, which sometimes cut through but often become muddled during furious blasts, obscuring the pop of robust drum tones I loved on the debut. Perhaps the intent was to thematically embrace what a cloudy, claustrophobic atmosphere achieves, shining the spotlight on a single focus at a time. If so, I can appreciate the attempt, but it fails to properly incorporate all the ingredients into what Goreworm is cooking. Besides the mix, the songwriting highlights Goreworm’s technical acumen without sharpening their hooks enough to reel me back in once the music fades. To be fair, Miasmic Solitude rips throughout its runtime and is a qualified neck-wrecker—I just don’t feel compelled to revisit it afterwards.

Ultimately, Goreworm exhibits a myriad of traits I love to hear in technical death metal. With a more well-rounded production and carefully honed compositions that transcend being platforms for flexing technical mastery, Goreworm bears all the potential to annihilate expectations. As it stands, after several listens through Miasmic Solitude, there’s no doubt that Goreworm possesses the prowess necessary to deliver on the technical front. I’m just unconvinced of the magnetism their material yields to keep me coming back past the pyrotechnics.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 12th, 2026

After releasing debut LP Prodigy of the Grotesque in 2020, Canada’s Goreworm re-emerges from their burrow with follow-up full-length Miasmic Solitude. Prodigy of the Grotesque enchanted me when I ran across it a few years ago—sweeping guitars, slick bass grooves, and a deliciously vigorous percussive cannonade made for a tasty tech death treat. Now six years later, Goreworm has metamorphosed from the band that dropped Prodigy. Vocalist Jesse Suess and founding members drummer Sean Bruce and bassist Derek Gibbs bid adieu, leaving guitarists Jordan Estrela and Brent Moerschfelder to carry the torch. For Miasmic Solitude, Goreworm rounds out the ensemble with session drummer Robin Stone (Ashen Horde, Chestcrush), who flayed the skins on 2021 EP Plague of Shadows, and vocalist Robert Miller (Antheraea). With a revitalized crew and a fresh batch of jams in hand, can Miasmic Solitude worm its way into your heart?

Technical death metal can be a tough genre to craft thoughtful songs within. The most immediate hurdle is technical chops—if you can’t muster the dexterity to pull off instrumental mayhem, you’re sunk. Yet the ability to play at blistering speeds with robotic fidelity isn’t enough on its own; it’s merely the price of admission. To transcend in the genre as the best from Necrophagist, Obscura, and Archspire have, you need crystalline mechanics embedded within engrossing and memorable compositions. Goreworm’s brand of death metal lands amidst the likes of The Black Dahlia Murder, Vale of Pnath and Abysmal Dawn, sporting burly riffs played at head-spinning velocity with occasional splashes of neoclassical color. This, at least, ensures the price of admission has been paid in full.

Goreworm members old and new unleash the razzle-dazzle on Miasmic Solitude as they pump gallons of adrenalized ear candy into its compositions. Estrela and Moerschfelder beget a sinewy string section, uncorking spidery leads that dash along fretboards with muscle and venom (“Monuments to Murdering,” “Miasmic Solitude”). Moerschfelder pulls double duty on the low-end, too, clanging and banging with satisfying heft. I only wish he broke away more from playing under the guitars and locking into root notes. To be clear, this is a nitpick on style and not a comment on his ability to bring the thunder. It’s just that compared to Gibbs’ bass on Prodigy of the Grotesque, Miasmic Solitude loses a dimension that helped set Goreworm’s debut apart. Meanwhile, Stone supplies a magnificent performance behind the kit, unfettering smooth rolls à la Chris Adler (“Amor Vincit Omnia”) and hammer-smashing cavalcades that recall the ferocity of Cannibal Corpse’s Paul Marzurkiewicz fused with the grace of Dirk Verbeuren (“No Reprieve”). Robert Miller proves a capable vocalist, and though his performance isn’t particularly dynamic, he supports the music well and sounds credibly savage throughout.

Goreworm crackles with vitality throughout Miasmic Solitude, yet the entirety falls short of the promise of its performances. The production proves a mixed bag, allowing the guitars and vocals to shine at the expense of the drums, which sometimes cut through but often become muddled during furious blasts, obscuring the pop of robust drum tones I loved on the debut. Perhaps the intent was to thematically embrace what a cloudy, claustrophobic atmosphere achieves, shining the spotlight on a single focus at a time. If so, I can appreciate the attempt, but it fails to properly incorporate all the ingredients into what Goreworm is cooking. Besides the mix, the songwriting highlights Goreworm’s technical acumen without sharpening their hooks enough to reel me back in once the music fades. To be fair, Miasmic Solitude rips throughout its runtime and is a qualified neck-wrecker—I just don’t feel compelled to revisit it afterwards.

Ultimately, Goreworm exhibits a myriad of traits I love to hear in technical death metal. With a more well-rounded production and carefully honed compositions that transcend being platforms for flexing technical mastery, Goreworm bears all the potential to annihilate expectations. As it stands, after several listens through Miasmic Solitude, there’s no doubt that Goreworm possesses the prowess necessary to deliver on the technical front. I’m just unconvinced of the magnetism their material yields to keep me coming back past the pyrotechnics.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 12th, 2026

Though my first published review here at Angry Metal Guy was back in September 2024, it was on May 30, 2025, that I officially escaped n00bdom with my review of Rivers of Nihil’s self-titled album. As I approach my one-year anniversary, it seems appropriate to grab a promo that styles itself after the progressive tech-death of Rivers of Nihil. Thus, enter The Scalar Process with their sophomore outing, Agnomysticism. Not only do they sound kind of like Rivers of Nihil, but they even borrow Andy Thomas for a guest spot on one song. The Scalar Process formed in 2016, but didn’t release any material until 2021’s Coagulative Matter. It took another five years to release the follow-up, with a new drummer, additional guitarist and bassist. Having never heard these guys before, I picked up Agnomysticism in the hope of it being closer in quality to Xenotaph than Rivers of Nihil. Have the metal gods blessed these guys with supreme musical talent?

On Agnomysticism, The Scalar Process plays a synth-heavy tech death that blends speedy precision with calm ambiance. They have much in common with Fallujah and The Zenith Passage, though not the technicality in their riffs. The riffs featured here are largely of the bland chugging Rivers of Nihil variety, though with a few neat arpeggiated segments and solos here and there. Synths are omnipresent, adding a general atmospheric quality rather than hooks. Songs frequently begin with light atmospherics such as synths, trems, or arpeggios before diving into the heavy stuff. There’s less interest in creating original, catchy riffs of the kind you hear on Xenotaph or Datalysium. When songs get speedy and loud, they just sound flat—bland blast beats with non-descript riffs and Mathieu Lefevre’s monotone growls. Honestly, if it weren’t for the tempo changes, you’d hardly notice the passage from track to track.

Agnomysticism contains a collection of songs that are clean, clinical, and cold. With tech-death you expect to feel something of the sublime—the awe and wonder of musical passages (Stortregn’s Impermanence) or something that compels your body to move (Archspire). Yet, The Scalar Process appears content to emotionally distance themselves from their musical creation. The main ingredient in this distance is an apparent allergy to hooks. Any time a promising riff starts up, such as on “A Breathing Moment,” it just as quickly dissipates. The Scalar Process take their progressive structure and turn it into a sort of improvisational free-for-all where passages just don’t have room to develop. “A Breathing Moment” perfectly encapsulates this, as it ends on a disappointing fade-out just as it appears on the verge of going somewhere interesting. The Scalar Process do play some neat riffs now and then, with a solo on “Illness” from Justin McKinney (The Zenith Passage) being the best. But other attempts at hooks don’t work, such as a 30-second guest spot from Andy Thomas, whose cleans fall flat.

Could this just be another The Flesh Prevails? The compression on Agnomysticism is so crushed that the music—riffs, synths, drums, vocals—all become an indistinguishable mishmash until the quieter ambient segments. Where many times bands use these quieter moments to help build tension before a release of intense music, here the passages largely serve to give your ears a rest. Even on the lowest possible volume on my headphones, I found the loudness unbearable. The best-sounding songs are the full-length ambient instrumental interludes, “Affluent Marea” and “Sigil.” However, though they serve as a welcome rest for the ears, they sound more at home on an elevator than on a tech-death record. A better production would make this a more tolerable listen, but it would hardly fix all the issues plaguing Agnomysticism.

It’s rare that an album leaves me feeling so cold as Agnomysticism. It flies by in 45 minutes and leaves no real impression. I’ll give credit for a few impressive technical passages here and there, but otherwise, I’m not sure what The Scalar Process accomplishes. Where’s the passion? It just feels so aloof and meandering without purpose, and the mixing ensures you can’t properly hear it anyway. In the end, it’s a record you’ll struggle to recall as soon as you finish listening to it.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

Though my first published review here at Angry Metal Guy was back in September 2024, it was on May 30, 2025, that I officially escaped n00bdom with my review of Rivers of Nihil’s self-titled album. As I approach my one-year anniversary, it seems appropriate to grab a promo that styles itself after the progressive tech-death of Rivers of Nihil. Thus, enter The Scalar Process with their sophomore outing, Agnomysticism. Not only do they sound kind of like Rivers of Nihil, but they even borrow Andy Thomas for a guest spot on one song. The Scalar Process formed in 2016, but didn’t release any material until 2021’s Coagulative Matter. It took another five years to release the follow-up, with a new drummer, additional guitarist and bassist. Having never heard these guys before, I picked up Agnomysticism in the hope of it being closer in quality to Xenotaph than Rivers of Nihil. Have the metal gods blessed these guys with supreme musical talent?

On Agnomysticism, The Scalar Process plays a synth-heavy tech death that blends speedy precision with calm ambiance. They have much in common with Fallujah and The Zenith Passage, though not the technicality in their riffs. The riffs featured here are largely of the bland chugging Rivers of Nihil variety, though with a few neat arpeggiated segments and solos here and there. Synths are omnipresent, adding a general atmospheric quality rather than hooks. Songs frequently begin with light atmospherics such as synths, trems, or arpeggios before diving into the heavy stuff. There’s less interest in creating original, catchy riffs of the kind you hear on Xenotaph or Datalysium. When songs get speedy and loud, they just sound flat—bland blast beats with non-descript riffs and Mathieu Lefevre’s monotone growls. Honestly, if it weren’t for the tempo changes, you’d hardly notice the passage from track to track.

Agnomysticism contains a collection of songs that are clean, clinical, and cold. With tech-death you expect to feel something of the sublime—the awe and wonder of musical passages (Stortregn’s Impermanence) or something that compels your body to move (Archspire). Yet, The Scalar Process appears content to emotionally distance themselves from their musical creation. The main ingredient in this distance is an apparent allergy to hooks. Any time a promising riff starts up, such as on “A Breathing Moment,” it just as quickly dissipates. The Scalar Process take their progressive structure and turn it into a sort of improvisational free-for-all where passages just don’t have room to develop. “A Breathing Moment” perfectly encapsulates this, as it ends on a disappointing fade-out just as it appears on the verge of going somewhere interesting. The Scalar Process do play some neat riffs now and then, with a solo on “Illness” from Justin McKinney (The Zenith Passage) being the best. But other attempts at hooks don’t work, such as a 30-second guest spot from Andy Thomas, whose cleans fall flat.

Could this just be another The Flesh Prevails? The compression on Agnomysticism is so crushed that the music—riffs, synths, drums, vocals—all become an indistinguishable mishmash until the quieter ambient segments. Where many times bands use these quieter moments to help build tension before a release of intense music, here the passages largely serve to give your ears a rest. Even on the lowest possible volume on my headphones, I found the loudness unbearable. The best-sounding songs are the full-length ambient instrumental interludes, “Affluent Marea” and “Sigil.” However, though they serve as a welcome rest for the ears, they sound more at home on an elevator than on a tech-death record. A better production would make this a more tolerable listen, but it would hardly fix all the issues plaguing Agnomysticism.

It’s rare that an album leaves me feeling so cold as Agnomysticism. It flies by in 45 minutes and leaves no real impression. I’ll give credit for a few impressive technical passages here and there, but otherwise, I’m not sure what The Scalar Process accomplishes. Where’s the passion? It just feels so aloof and meandering without purpose, and the mixing ensures you can’t properly hear it anyway. In the end, it’s a record you’ll struggle to recall as soon as you finish listening to it.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

Though my first published review here at Angry Metal Guy was back in September 2024, it was on May 30, 2025, that I officially escaped n00bdom with my review of Rivers of Nihil’s self-titled album. As I approach my one-year anniversary, it seems appropriate to grab a promo that styles itself after the progressive tech-death of Rivers of Nihil. Thus, enter The Scalar Process with their sophomore outing, Agnomysticism. Not only do they sound kind of like Rivers of Nihil, but they even borrow Andy Thomas for a guest spot on one song. The Scalar Process formed in 2016, but didn’t release any material until 2021’s Coagulative Matter. It took another five years to release the follow-up, with a new drummer, additional guitarist and bassist. Having never heard these guys before, I picked up Agnomysticism in the hope of it being closer in quality to Xenotaph than Rivers of Nihil. Have the metal gods blessed these guys with supreme musical talent?

On Agnomysticism, The Scalar Process plays a synth-heavy tech death that blends speedy precision with calm ambiance. They have much in common with Fallujah and The Zenith Passage, though not the technicality in their riffs. The riffs featured here are largely of the bland chugging Rivers of Nihil variety, though with a few neat arpeggiated segments and solos here and there. Synths are omnipresent, adding a general atmospheric quality rather than hooks. Songs frequently begin with light atmospherics such as synths, trems, or arpeggios before diving into the heavy stuff. There’s less interest in creating original, catchy riffs of the kind you hear on Xenotaph or Datalysium. When songs get speedy and loud, they just sound flat—bland blast beats with non-descript riffs and Mathieu Lefevre’s monotone growls. Honestly, if it weren’t for the tempo changes, you’d hardly notice the passage from track to track.

Agnomysticism contains a collection of songs that are clean, clinical, and cold. With tech-death you expect to feel something of the sublime—the awe and wonder of musical passages (Stortregn’s Impermanence) or something that compels your body to move (Archspire). Yet, The Scalar Process appears content to emotionally distance themselves from their musical creation. The main ingredient in this distance is an apparent allergy to hooks. Any time a promising riff starts up, such as on “A Breathing Moment,” it just as quickly dissipates. The Scalar Process take their progressive structure and turn it into a sort of improvisational free-for-all where passages just don’t have room to develop. “A Breathing Moment” perfectly encapsulates this, as it ends on a disappointing fade-out just as it appears on the verge of going somewhere interesting. The Scalar Process do play some neat riffs now and then, with a solo on “Illness” from Justin McKinney (The Zenith Passage) being the best. But other attempts at hooks don’t work, such as a 30-second guest spot from Andy Thomas, whose cleans fall flat.

Could this just be another The Flesh Prevails? The compression on Agnomysticism is so crushed that the music—riffs, synths, drums, vocals—all become an indistinguishable mishmash until the quieter ambient segments. Where many times bands use these quieter moments to help build tension before a release of intense music, here the passages largely serve to give your ears a rest. Even on the lowest possible volume on my headphones, I found the loudness unbearable. The best-sounding songs are the full-length ambient instrumental interludes, “Affluent Marea” and “Sigil.” However, though they serve as a welcome rest for the ears, they sound more at home on an elevator than on a tech-death record. A better production would make this a more tolerable listen, but it would hardly fix all the issues plaguing Agnomysticism.

It’s rare that an album leaves me feeling so cold as Agnomysticism. It flies by in 45 minutes and leaves no real impression. I’ll give credit for a few impressive technical passages here and there, but otherwise, I’m not sure what The Scalar Process accomplishes. Where’s the passion? It just feels so aloof and meandering without purpose, and the mixing ensures you can’t properly hear it anyway. In the end, it’s a record you’ll struggle to recall as soon as you finish listening to it.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

Though my first published review here at Angry Metal Guy was back in September 2024, it was on May 30, 2025, that I officially escaped n00bdom with my review of Rivers of Nihil’s self-titled album. As I approach my one-year anniversary, it seems appropriate to grab a promo that styles itself after the progressive tech-death of Rivers of Nihil. Thus, enter The Scalar Process with their sophomore outing, Agnomysticism. Not only do they sound kind of like Rivers of Nihil, but they even borrow Andy Thomas for a guest spot on one song. The Scalar Process formed in 2016, but didn’t release any material until 2021’s Coagulative Matter. It took another five years to release the follow-up, with a new drummer, additional guitarist and bassist. Having never heard these guys before, I picked up Agnomysticism in the hope of it being closer in quality to Xenotaph than Rivers of Nihil. Have the metal gods blessed these guys with supreme musical talent?

On Agnomysticism, The Scalar Process plays a synth-heavy tech death that blends speedy precision with calm ambiance. They have much in common with Fallujah and The Zenith Passage, though not the technicality in their riffs. The riffs featured here are largely of the bland chugging Rivers of Nihil variety, though with a few neat arpeggiated segments and solos here and there. Synths are omnipresent, adding a general atmospheric quality rather than hooks. Songs frequently begin with light atmospherics such as synths, trems, or arpeggios before diving into the heavy stuff. There’s less interest in creating original, catchy riffs of the kind you hear on Xenotaph or Datalysium. When songs get speedy and loud, they just sound flat—bland blast beats with non-descript riffs and Mathieu Lefevre’s monotone growls. Honestly, if it weren’t for the tempo changes, you’d hardly notice the passage from track to track.

Agnomysticism contains a collection of songs that are clean, clinical, and cold. With tech-death you expect to feel something of the sublime—the awe and wonder of musical passages (Stortregn’s Impermanence) or something that compels your body to move (Archspire). Yet, The Scalar Process appears content to emotionally distance themselves from their musical creation. The main ingredient in this distance is an apparent allergy to hooks. Any time a promising riff starts up, such as on “A Breathing Moment,” it just as quickly dissipates. The Scalar Process take their progressive structure and turn it into a sort of improvisational free-for-all where passages just don’t have room to develop. “A Breathing Moment” perfectly encapsulates this, as it ends on a disappointing fade-out just as it appears on the verge of going somewhere interesting. The Scalar Process do play some neat riffs now and then, with a solo on “Illness” from Justin McKinney (The Zenith Passage) being the best. But other attempts at hooks don’t work, such as a 30-second guest spot from Andy Thomas, whose cleans fall flat.

Could this just be another The Flesh Prevails? The compression on Agnomysticism is so crushed that the music—riffs, synths, drums, vocals—all become an indistinguishable mishmash until the quieter ambient segments. Where many times bands use these quieter moments to help build tension before a release of intense music, here the passages largely serve to give your ears a rest. Even on the lowest possible volume on my headphones, I found the loudness unbearable. The best-sounding songs are the full-length ambient instrumental interludes, “Affluent Marea” and “Sigil.” However, though they serve as a welcome rest for the ears, they sound more at home on an elevator than on a tech-death record. A better production would make this a more tolerable listen, but it would hardly fix all the issues plaguing Agnomysticism.

It’s rare that an album leaves me feeling so cold as Agnomysticism. It flies by in 45 minutes and leaves no real impression. I’ll give credit for a few impressive technical passages here and there, but otherwise, I’m not sure what The Scalar Process accomplishes. Where’s the passion? It just feels so aloof and meandering without purpose, and the mixing ensures you can’t properly hear it anyway. In the end, it’s a record you’ll struggle to recall as soon as you finish listening to it.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

Though my first published review here at Angry Metal Guy was back in September 2024, it was on May 30, 2025, that I officially escaped n00bdom with my review of Rivers of Nihil’s self-titled album. As I approach my one-year anniversary, it seems appropriate to grab a promo that styles itself after the progressive tech-death of Rivers of Nihil. Thus, enter The Scalar Process with their sophomore outing, Agnomysticism. Not only do they sound kind of like Rivers of Nihil, but they even borrow Andy Thomas for a guest spot on one song. The Scalar Process formed in 2016, but didn’t release any material until 2021’s Coagulative Matter. It took another five years to release the follow-up, with a new drummer, additional guitarist and bassist. Having never heard these guys before, I picked up Agnomysticism in the hope of it being closer in quality to Xenotaph than Rivers of Nihil. Have the metal gods blessed these guys with supreme musical talent?

On Agnomysticism, The Scalar Process plays a synth-heavy tech death that blends speedy precision with calm ambiance. They have much in common with Fallujah and The Zenith Passage, though not the technicality in their riffs. The riffs featured here are largely of the bland chugging Rivers of Nihil variety, though with a few neat arpeggiated segments and solos here and there. Synths are omnipresent, adding a general atmospheric quality rather than hooks. Songs frequently begin with light atmospherics such as synths, trems, or arpeggios before diving into the heavy stuff. There’s less interest in creating original, catchy riffs of the kind you hear on Xenotaph or Datalysium. When songs get speedy and loud, they just sound flat—bland blast beats with non-descript riffs and Mathieu Lefevre’s monotone growls. Honestly, if it weren’t for the tempo changes, you’d hardly notice the passage from track to track.

Agnomysticism contains a collection of songs that are clean, clinical, and cold. With tech-death you expect to feel something of the sublime—the awe and wonder of musical passages (Stortregn’s Impermanence) or something that compels your body to move (Archspire). Yet, The Scalar Process appears content to emotionally distance themselves from their musical creation. The main ingredient in this distance is an apparent allergy to hooks. Any time a promising riff starts up, such as on “A Breathing Moment,” it just as quickly dissipates. The Scalar Process take their progressive structure and turn it into a sort of improvisational free-for-all where passages just don’t have room to develop. “A Breathing Moment” perfectly encapsulates this, as it ends on a disappointing fade-out just as it appears on the verge of going somewhere interesting. The Scalar Process do play some neat riffs now and then, with a solo on “Illness” from Justin McKinney (The Zenith Passage) being the best. But other attempts at hooks don’t work, such as a 30-second guest spot from Andy Thomas, whose cleans fall flat.

Could this just be another The Flesh Prevails? The compression on Agnomysticism is so crushed that the music—riffs, synths, drums, vocals—all become an indistinguishable mishmash until the quieter ambient segments. Where many times bands use these quieter moments to help build tension before a release of intense music, here the passages largely serve to give your ears a rest. Even on the lowest possible volume on my headphones, I found the loudness unbearable. The best-sounding songs are the full-length ambient instrumental interludes, “Affluent Marea” and “Sigil.” However, though they serve as a welcome rest for the ears, they sound more at home on an elevator than on a tech-death record. A better production would make this a more tolerable listen, but it would hardly fix all the issues plaguing Agnomysticism.

It’s rare that an album leaves me feeling so cold as Agnomysticism. It flies by in 45 minutes and leaves no real impression. I’ll give credit for a few impressive technical passages here and there, but otherwise, I’m not sure what The Scalar Process accomplishes. Where’s the passion? It just feels so aloof and meandering without purpose, and the mixing ensures you can’t properly hear it anyway. In the end, it’s a record you’ll struggle to recall as soon as you finish listening to it.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

New #Archspire slaps so far!

https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=OeQLvhTbFp8

New #Archspire slaps so far!

https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=OeQLvhTbFp8

Cognizance – In Light, No Shape Review

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds.…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #Archspire #BritishMetal #CA #Canada #Cognizance #DeathMetal #Entertainment #InLight #May26 #NoShape #Obscura #progressivedeathmetal #review #reviews #Revocation #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #TheZenithpassage #WillowtipRecords
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/643815/

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds. While that approach requires undeniable virtuosity, I’ve always gravitated toward the genre’s more restrained, focused, and groove-oriented side. Cognizance initially walked the well-trodden path of bands like The Faceless and The Zenith Passage on their debut, Malignant Dominion, displaying speed and technicality in equal measure, but doing little to distinguish themselves from a crowded field. However, to their credit, the international quintet-turned-quartet has spent the past three albums gradually cementing their identity, culminating with 2024’s Phantazein. Though it got Stuck in the Filter, the record was packed with punishing grooves, strong songwriting, and phenomenal performances, containing all the qualities that keep me returning to the genre regularly. Two short years later, Cognizance returns with In Light, No Shape.

Much of Cognizance’s growth over the years stems from its stable lineup, though the recent departure of longtime vocalist Henry “Big Mac” Pryce disrupted that continuity. Guitarist Alex Baillie has since assumed vocal duties, marking a shift in the group’s sound. Baillie fills the role admirably, trading Pryce’s deathcore-leaning growls for a style closer to David Davidson (Revocation). In fact, In Light, No Shape—particularly tracks like “Vertical Illusion,” “Witness Marks,” “Chasm,” and “The Zone”—leans heavily into Revocation’s progressive stylings to its benefit. Drummers and longtime fans should already know the name David Diepold (ex-Obscura), but for anyone who doesn’t, consider this your required introduction. The dude absolutely cooks on this record. Whether through artful fills or splashy accents, he commands the material like a conductor leading an orchestra, sitting front and center in the record’s solid mix. Not to be outdone, guitarists Apostolis Karydis and Baillie, along with bassist Chris Binns, lock with Diepold effortlessly, never once sounding strained as they ebb between calibrated riffing, evocative solos, and ornate passages across the record’s 37 minutes.

Rather than following the Archspire school of extravagance, In Light, No Shape shows Karydis and Baillie easing off the accelerator, leaning more into atmosphere than velocity, with Diepold shouldering most of the speed. The duo utilizes more spacey arpeggiated passages (“A Reconfiguration,” “Witness Marks,” “A Game of Proliferation”) than on Phantazein, giving In Light, No Shape a feeling of dynamism and expansiveness. Accordingly, the songwriting strikes a keen balance between technical, immersive, and hooky, while leaving room for each element to breathe. Opener “Transient Fixations” wastes no time launching into hyperdrive, blasting and chugging through its sub‑three‑minute runtime, essentially functioning as an intro track that reaffirms that this is still the Cognizance fans will know. And while it feels a bit short, it flows seamlessly into “Inflection Chants'” groovy opening, making it work. Later, the surges of melodic tremolos and blasts that fuel “Chasm” give way to a haunting, aura-rich soundscape, where cymbal accents melt into jaunty tom fills before everything cascades back into overdrive. Similar structures drive tracks like “The Zone” and Song o’ the Year candidate “A Game of Proliferation,” while others (“Induced Contortions,” “Subterranean Incantation”) stick closer to standard tech death.

To state the obvious, tech death production usually sucks. Thankfully, In Light, No Shape isn’t totally brickwalled to hell, clocking in at a DR of 6. While that number looks average on paper,1 the mix retains a surprisingly natural edge while still delivering the punch and low-end presence needed to let the intricacies of the performances shine. Yes, it’s still compressed, but it never totally collapses on itself either. The guitars carry plenty of bite, avoiding the trap of sounding overly synthetic or overproduced, though the solos sit too far back in the mix for my liking. Likewise, the use of robotic spoken word interludes on tracks like “Inflection Chants” and “Transient Fixations” is conceptually fine, but they get lost behind the loud drums and end up feeling pointless. It’s a trade-off I can ultimately live with, though.

After multiple spins, In Light, No Shape stands toe-to-toe with Phantazein. Overcoming a key member’s departure isn’t easy, and while the album’s stylistic changes may feel reactive or too familiar, most come across as deliberate, pointing to a group resettling their identity. Cognizance continues to emerge as one of tech death’s most compelling acts and In Light, No Shape highlights what the genre can achieve when done right.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: cognizance.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cognizanceband
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds. While that approach requires undeniable virtuosity, I’ve always gravitated toward the genre’s more restrained, focused, and groove-oriented side. Cognizance initially walked the well-trodden path of bands like The Faceless and The Zenith Passage on their debut, Malignant Dominion, displaying speed and technicality in equal measure, but doing little to distinguish themselves from a crowded field. However, to their credit, the international quintet-turned-quartet has spent the past three albums gradually cementing their identity, culminating with 2024’s Phantazein. Though it got Stuck in the Filter, the record was packed with punishing grooves, strong songwriting, and phenomenal performances, containing all the qualities that keep me returning to the genre regularly. Two short years later, Cognizance returns with In Light, No Shape.

Much of Cognizance’s growth over the years stems from its stable lineup, though the recent departure of longtime vocalist Henry “Big Mac” Pryce disrupted that continuity. Guitarist Alex Baillie has since assumed vocal duties, marking a shift in the group’s sound. Baillie fills the role admirably, trading Pryce’s deathcore-leaning growls for a style closer to David Davidson (Revocation). In fact, In Light, No Shape—particularly tracks like “Vertical Illusion,” “Witness Marks,” “Chasm,” and “The Zone”—leans heavily into Revocation’s progressive stylings to its benefit. Drummers and longtime fans should already know the name David Diepold (ex-Obscura), but for anyone who doesn’t, consider this your required introduction. The dude absolutely cooks on this record. Whether through artful fills or splashy accents, he commands the material like a conductor leading an orchestra, sitting front and center in the record’s solid mix. Not to be outdone, guitarists Apostolis Karydis and Baillie, along with bassist Chris Binns, lock with Diepold effortlessly, never once sounding strained as they ebb between calibrated riffing, evocative solos, and ornate passages across the record’s 37 minutes.

Rather than following the Archspire school of extravagance, In Light, No Shape shows Karydis and Baillie easing off the accelerator, leaning more into atmosphere than velocity, with Diepold shouldering most of the speed. The duo utilizes more spacey arpeggiated passages (“A Reconfiguration,” “Witness Marks,” “A Game of Proliferation”) than on Phantazein, giving In Light, No Shape a feeling of dynamism and expansiveness. Accordingly, the songwriting strikes a keen balance between technical, immersive, and hooky, while leaving room for each element to breathe. Opener “Transient Fixations” wastes no time launching into hyperdrive, blasting and chugging through its sub‑three‑minute runtime, essentially functioning as an intro track that reaffirms that this is still the Cognizance fans will know. And while it feels a bit short, it flows seamlessly into “Inflection Chants'” groovy opening, making it work. Later, the surges of melodic tremolos and blasts that fuel “Chasm” give way to a haunting, aura-rich soundscape, where cymbal accents melt into jaunty tom fills before everything cascades back into overdrive. Similar structures drive tracks like “The Zone” and Song o’ the Year candidate “A Game of Proliferation,” while others (“Induced Contortions,” “Subterranean Incantation”) stick closer to standard tech death.

To state the obvious, tech death production usually sucks. Thankfully, In Light, No Shape isn’t totally brickwalled to hell, clocking in at a DR of 6. While that number looks average on paper,1 the mix retains a surprisingly natural edge while still delivering the punch and low-end presence needed to let the intricacies of the performances shine. Yes, it’s still compressed, but it never totally collapses on itself either. The guitars carry plenty of bite, avoiding the trap of sounding overly synthetic or overproduced, though the solos sit too far back in the mix for my liking. Likewise, the use of robotic spoken word interludes on tracks like “Inflection Chants” and “Transient Fixations” is conceptually fine, but they get lost behind the loud drums and end up feeling pointless. It’s a trade-off I can ultimately live with, though.

After multiple spins, In Light, No Shape stands toe-to-toe with Phantazein. Overcoming a key member’s departure isn’t easy, and while the album’s stylistic changes may feel reactive or too familiar, most come across as deliberate, pointing to a group resettling their identity. Cognizance continues to emerge as one of tech death’s most compelling acts and In Light, No Shape highlights what the genre can achieve when done right.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: cognizance.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cognizanceband
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds. While that approach requires undeniable virtuosity, I’ve always gravitated toward the genre’s more restrained, focused, and groove-oriented side. Cognizance initially walked the well-trodden path of bands like The Faceless and The Zenith Passage on their debut, Malignant Dominion, displaying speed and technicality in equal measure, but doing little to distinguish themselves from a crowded field. However, to their credit, the international quintet-turned-quartet has spent the past three albums gradually cementing their identity, culminating with 2024’s Phantazein. Though it got Stuck in the Filter, the record was packed with punishing grooves, strong songwriting, and phenomenal performances, containing all the qualities that keep me returning to the genre regularly. Two short years later, Cognizance returns with In Light, No Shape.

Much of Cognizance’s growth over the years stems from its stable lineup, though the recent departure of longtime vocalist Henry “Big Mac” Pryce disrupted that continuity. Guitarist Alex Baillie has since assumed vocal duties, marking a shift in the group’s sound. Baillie fills the role admirably, trading Pryce’s deathcore-leaning growls for a style closer to David Davidson (Revocation). In fact, In Light, No Shape—particularly tracks like “Vertical Illusion,” “Witness Marks,” “Chasm,” and “The Zone”—leans heavily into Revocation’s progressive stylings to its benefit. Drummers and longtime fans should already know the name David Diepold (ex-Obscura), but for anyone who doesn’t, consider this your required introduction. The dude absolutely cooks on this record. Whether through artful fills or splashy accents, he commands the material like a conductor leading an orchestra, sitting front and center in the record’s solid mix. Not to be outdone, guitarists Apostolis Karydis and Baillie, along with bassist Chris Binns, lock with Diepold effortlessly, never once sounding strained as they ebb between calibrated riffing, evocative solos, and ornate passages across the record’s 37 minutes.

Rather than following the Archspire school of extravagance, In Light, No Shape shows Karydis and Baillie easing off the accelerator, leaning more into atmosphere than velocity, with Diepold shouldering most of the speed. The duo utilizes more spacey arpeggiated passages (“A Reconfiguration,” “Witness Marks,” “A Game of Proliferation”) than on Phantazein, giving In Light, No Shape a feeling of dynamism and expansiveness. Accordingly, the songwriting strikes a keen balance between technical, immersive, and hooky, while leaving room for each element to breathe. Opener “Transient Fixations” wastes no time launching into hyperdrive, blasting and chugging through its sub‑three‑minute runtime, essentially functioning as an intro track that reaffirms that this is still the Cognizance fans will know. And while it feels a bit short, it flows seamlessly into “Inflection Chants'” groovy opening, making it work. Later, the surges of melodic tremolos and blasts that fuel “Chasm” give way to a haunting, aura-rich soundscape, where cymbal accents melt into jaunty tom fills before everything cascades back into overdrive. Similar structures drive tracks like “The Zone” and Song o’ the Year candidate “A Game of Proliferation,” while others (“Induced Contortions,” “Subterranean Incantation”) stick closer to standard tech death.

To state the obvious, tech death production usually sucks. Thankfully, In Light, No Shape isn’t totally brickwalled to hell, clocking in at a DR of 6. While that number looks average on paper,1 the mix retains a surprisingly natural edge while still delivering the punch and low-end presence needed to let the intricacies of the performances shine. Yes, it’s still compressed, but it never totally collapses on itself either. The guitars carry plenty of bite, avoiding the trap of sounding overly synthetic or overproduced, though the solos sit too far back in the mix for my liking. Likewise, the use of robotic spoken word interludes on tracks like “Inflection Chants” and “Transient Fixations” is conceptually fine, but they get lost behind the loud drums and end up feeling pointless. It’s a trade-off I can ultimately live with, though.

After multiple spins, In Light, No Shape stands toe-to-toe with Phantazein. Overcoming a key member’s departure isn’t easy, and while the album’s stylistic changes may feel reactive or too familiar, most come across as deliberate, pointing to a group resettling their identity. Cognizance continues to emerge as one of tech death’s most compelling acts and In Light, No Shape highlights what the genre can achieve when done right.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: cognizance.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cognizanceband
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds. While that approach requires undeniable virtuosity, I’ve always gravitated toward the genre’s more restrained, focused, and groove-oriented side. Cognizance initially walked the well-trodden path of bands like The Faceless and The Zenith Passage on their debut, Malignant Dominion, displaying speed and technicality in equal measure, but doing little to distinguish themselves from a crowded field. However, to their credit, the international quintet-turned-quartet has spent the past three albums gradually cementing their identity, culminating with 2024’s Phantazein. Though it got Stuck in the Filter, the record was packed with punishing grooves, strong songwriting, and phenomenal performances, containing all the qualities that keep me returning to the genre regularly. Two short years later, Cognizance returns with In Light, No Shape.

Much of Cognizance’s growth over the years stems from its stable lineup, though the recent departure of longtime vocalist Henry “Big Mac” Pryce disrupted that continuity. Guitarist Alex Baillie has since assumed vocal duties, marking a shift in the group’s sound. Baillie fills the role admirably, trading Pryce’s deathcore-leaning growls for a style closer to David Davidson (Revocation). In fact, In Light, No Shape—particularly tracks like “Vertical Illusion,” “Witness Marks,” “Chasm,” and “The Zone”—leans heavily into Revocation’s progressive stylings to its benefit. Drummers and longtime fans should already know the name David Diepold (ex-Obscura), but for anyone who doesn’t, consider this your required introduction. The dude absolutely cooks on this record. Whether through artful fills or splashy accents, he commands the material like a conductor leading an orchestra, sitting front and center in the record’s solid mix. Not to be outdone, guitarists Apostolis Karydis and Baillie, along with bassist Chris Binns, lock with Diepold effortlessly, never once sounding strained as they ebb between calibrated riffing, evocative solos, and ornate passages across the record’s 37 minutes.

Rather than following the Archspire school of extravagance, In Light, No Shape shows Karydis and Baillie easing off the accelerator, leaning more into atmosphere than velocity, with Diepold shouldering most of the speed. The duo utilizes more spacey arpeggiated passages (“A Reconfiguration,” “Witness Marks,” “A Game of Proliferation”) than on Phantazein, giving In Light, No Shape a feeling of dynamism and expansiveness. Accordingly, the songwriting strikes a keen balance between technical, immersive, and hooky, while leaving room for each element to breathe. Opener “Transient Fixations” wastes no time launching into hyperdrive, blasting and chugging through its sub‑three‑minute runtime, essentially functioning as an intro track that reaffirms that this is still the Cognizance fans will know. And while it feels a bit short, it flows seamlessly into “Inflection Chants'” groovy opening, making it work. Later, the surges of melodic tremolos and blasts that fuel “Chasm” give way to a haunting, aura-rich soundscape, where cymbal accents melt into jaunty tom fills before everything cascades back into overdrive. Similar structures drive tracks like “The Zone” and Song o’ the Year candidate “A Game of Proliferation,” while others (“Induced Contortions,” “Subterranean Incantation”) stick closer to standard tech death.

To state the obvious, tech death production usually sucks. Thankfully, In Light, No Shape isn’t totally brickwalled to hell, clocking in at a DR of 6. While that number looks average on paper,1 the mix retains a surprisingly natural edge while still delivering the punch and low-end presence needed to let the intricacies of the performances shine. Yes, it’s still compressed, but it never totally collapses on itself either. The guitars carry plenty of bite, avoiding the trap of sounding overly synthetic or overproduced, though the solos sit too far back in the mix for my liking. Likewise, the use of robotic spoken word interludes on tracks like “Inflection Chants” and “Transient Fixations” is conceptually fine, but they get lost behind the loud drums and end up feeling pointless. It’s a trade-off I can ultimately live with, though.

After multiple spins, In Light, No Shape stands toe-to-toe with Phantazein. Overcoming a key member’s departure isn’t easy, and while the album’s stylistic changes may feel reactive or too familiar, most come across as deliberate, pointing to a group resettling their identity. Cognizance continues to emerge as one of tech death’s most compelling acts and In Light, No Shape highlights what the genre can achieve when done right.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: cognizance.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cognizanceband
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds. While that approach requires undeniable virtuosity, I’ve always gravitated toward the genre’s more restrained, focused, and groove-oriented side. Cognizance initially walked the well-trodden path of bands like The Faceless and The Zenith Passage on their debut, Malignant Dominion, displaying speed and technicality in equal measure, but doing little to distinguish themselves from a crowded field. However, to their credit, the international quintet-turned-quartet has spent the past three albums gradually cementing their identity, culminating with 2024’s Phantazein. Though it got Stuck in the Filter, the record was packed with punishing grooves, strong songwriting, and phenomenal performances, containing all the qualities that keep me returning to the genre regularly. Two short years later, Cognizance returns with In Light, No Shape.

Much of Cognizance’s growth over the years stems from its stable lineup, though the recent departure of longtime vocalist Henry “Big Mac” Pryce disrupted that continuity. Guitarist Alex Baillie has since assumed vocal duties, marking a shift in the group’s sound. Baillie fills the role admirably, trading Pryce’s deathcore-leaning growls for a style closer to David Davidson (Revocation). In fact, In Light, No Shape—particularly tracks like “Vertical Illusion,” “Witness Marks,” “Chasm,” and “The Zone”—leans heavily into Revocation’s progressive stylings to its benefit. Drummers and longtime fans should already know the name David Diepold (ex-Obscura), but for anyone who doesn’t, consider this your required introduction. The dude absolutely cooks on this record. Whether through artful fills or splashy accents, he commands the material like a conductor leading an orchestra, sitting front and center in the record’s solid mix. Not to be outdone, guitarists Apostolis Karydis and Baillie, along with bassist Chris Binns, lock with Diepold effortlessly, never once sounding strained as they ebb between calibrated riffing, evocative solos, and ornate passages across the record’s 37 minutes.

Rather than following the Archspire school of extravagance, In Light, No Shape shows Karydis and Baillie easing off the accelerator, leaning more into atmosphere than velocity, with Diepold shouldering most of the speed. The duo utilizes more spacey arpeggiated passages (“A Reconfiguration,” “Witness Marks,” “A Game of Proliferation”) than on Phantazein, giving In Light, No Shape a feeling of dynamism and expansiveness. Accordingly, the songwriting strikes a keen balance between technical, immersive, and hooky, while leaving room for each element to breathe. Opener “Transient Fixations” wastes no time launching into hyperdrive, blasting and chugging through its sub‑three‑minute runtime, essentially functioning as an intro track that reaffirms that this is still the Cognizance fans will know. And while it feels a bit short, it flows seamlessly into “Inflection Chants'” groovy opening, making it work. Later, the surges of melodic tremolos and blasts that fuel “Chasm” give way to a haunting, aura-rich soundscape, where cymbal accents melt into jaunty tom fills before everything cascades back into overdrive. Similar structures drive tracks like “The Zone” and Song o’ the Year candidate “A Game of Proliferation,” while others (“Induced Contortions,” “Subterranean Incantation”) stick closer to standard tech death.

To state the obvious, tech death production usually sucks. Thankfully, In Light, No Shape isn’t totally brickwalled to hell, clocking in at a DR of 6. While that number looks average on paper,1 the mix retains a surprisingly natural edge while still delivering the punch and low-end presence needed to let the intricacies of the performances shine. Yes, it’s still compressed, but it never totally collapses on itself either. The guitars carry plenty of bite, avoiding the trap of sounding overly synthetic or overproduced, though the solos sit too far back in the mix for my liking. Likewise, the use of robotic spoken word interludes on tracks like “Inflection Chants” and “Transient Fixations” is conceptually fine, but they get lost behind the loud drums and end up feeling pointless. It’s a trade-off I can ultimately live with, though.

After multiple spins, In Light, No Shape stands toe-to-toe with Phantazein. Overcoming a key member’s departure isn’t easy, and while the album’s stylistic changes may feel reactive or too familiar, most come across as deliberate, pointing to a group resettling their identity. Cognizance continues to emerge as one of tech death’s most compelling acts and In Light, No Shape highlights what the genre can achieve when done right.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: cognizance.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cognizanceband
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

First, the newest from the masters of #techdeath, #archspire

https://archspire.bandcamp.com/album/too-fast-to-die

We're off to Saskatoon to see these guys tonight.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=waBjrggVSQI

#deathmetal #tech death #metal #livemusic #saskatoon #archspire

We're off to Saskatoon to see these guys tonight.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=waBjrggVSQI

#deathmetal #tech death #metal #livemusic #saskatoon #archspire

Brutal morning wake up call. #vinyl #archspire #StayTech

Brutal morning wake up call. #vinyl #archspire #StayTech

New #Archspire album and band shirt arrived. 🤗 #vinyl #deathmetal #StayTech

New #Archspire album and band shirt arrived. 🤗 #vinyl #deathmetal #StayTech

Jeg sånn… lurte på å dra på konsert med #Archspire på #JohnDee i november. Ingen jeg kjenner setter pris på sånn.

Er det noen her som skal?

Er det veldig stusselig å dra på konsert aleine eller er det innafor (for en i midten av 40-åra) i 2026?

#mathcore #deathcore #metaltut

Jeg sånn… lurte på å dra på konsert med #Archspire på #JohnDee i november. Ingen jeg kjenner setter pris på sånn.

Er det noen her som skal?

Er det veldig stusselig å dra på konsert aleine eller er det innafor (for en i midten av 40-åra) i 2026?

#mathcore #deathcore #metaltut

The new album by #Archspire is here!
Too fast to die! https://open.qobuz.com/album/mmjotdeqhq15a
#Qobuz #metal #StayTech

The new album by #Archspire is here!
Too fast to die! https://open.qobuz.com/album/mmjotdeqhq15a
#Qobuz #metal #StayTech

ARCHSPIRE (Canadà) presenta nou àlbum: "Too Fast to Die" #Archspire #TechnicalDeathMetal #Abril2026 #Canadà #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

So tommorow is a big day for death metal. There will be the new #Vomitory, #Inferi and #Archspire releases 🤯 🤘💪

After no less than three albums’ worth of glowing praise from my great predecessor Kronos, it’s safe to say that a new Archspire is a big deal in the hall.1 One blistering offering after another has cemented these lads as among the forerunners of tech-death, pushing BPM and bass-string structural integrity in equal measure. But the human body, alas, has limits, and with previous release Bleed the Future already pushing the speedometer well into the red, one could be forgiven for invoking the oldest of clichés: Where do they go from here? There’s only so much speed, so much scale wankery to be derived from mere flesh and bone. With a bit of a self-referential title in Too Fast to Die, Archspire have made their mission statement clear and concise; will their meteoric rise continue to light up the sky, or will their first independent release see them crash and burn?

Archspire have officially been around long enough to say “Expect the expected.” Too Fast to Die continues the band’s whirlwind musical trajectory, with an emphasis on scorching tempos and arpeggios delivered at string-withering pace. New drummer Spence Moore (formerly of Inferi, among others) plays like the lives of his family depend on it, etching his identity into the music with a smorgasbord of snare fills and delightful rhythmic shifts which somehow manage to maintain a blasting pace without ever smearing together into one double-bass-filled haze. Vocalist Oliver Aleron continues to sound pulled from an alternate universe where Atilla doesn’t suck,2 spitting syllable-heavy diatribes with gleeful abandon and an s-tier talent for phrasing which lets him compliment the intensity rather than overwhelm it. Enough breathing room is given to the bass, letting Jared Smith fill in the cracks with sweeps that rumble and clang under the chords with vibrancy and potent kinetic energy (“Red Goliath”) before disappearing back under the assault. Everything is excellently executed, engaging, and familiar.

Too Fast to Die by Archspire

And yet, there is a clear rumbling of growth and evolution in the Archspire camp. Rather than openly go out of their way to crank all the knobs from 11 to 12, Too Fast to Die puts heavy stock on pathos-riddled melody, with a heavier leaning on atmospheric theatrics and amphitheater-ready harmonies which don’t seek to overwhelm as much as invigorate and inspire. Album highlight “Carrion Ladder” features a midsection with a pair of leads so relatively simple a fledgling guitar student could learn to play them, yet thanks to the band’s compositional mastery, this simplicity isn’t an anticlimactic letdown as much as a genuine moment of appreciable, raw beauty, not to mention it features one of Oliver’s catchiest vocal parts. Such moments are littered throughout the album, with the borderline emotional chug section of “Limb of Leviticus” transitioning into the band’s traditional plucked interludes with melancholy rather than neo-classical sheen. Archspire’s interludes in older albums would have sounded just as appropriate if played by harpsichord as much as guitar, but Too Fast to Die eschews just a touch of that dual identity to place a heavier focus on thematic coherence with massive dividends.

Nevertheless, this is still a death metal record, and any gushing over emotive power and atmospheric bombast shouldn’t frighten away fans. “Liminal Cypher” features an absolutely devastating slamming section, and “Deadbolt the Backward” briefly dispenses with the atmospheres and opts for sudden shifts of waltz time signatures and straightforward brutality akin to Deeds of Flesh covering an Origin song. The most tendinitis-inducing of leads kick down your front door in “Anomalous Descent” only to suddenly shift identities and flirt with the briefest of hardcore stylings while putting an exclamation point on the proceedings with honest-to-goodness gang vocals. Somehow, this works. While Archspire haven’t quite gone prog on us with clean vocals and a litany of guest instruments (thank God), it’s delightful to see them stretching their artistic wings in so many directions and skillsets, despite promotional material perhaps pitching them as a one-trick pony of speed.

I haven’t been as high on Archspire as some of my colleagues. I enjoyed them, but felt such a style could only be mined so much. Too Fast to Die is Archspire commanding me to take those opinions and violate myself with them, track after track after track. This album sees the band embracing their not-so-newfound star status and offering an experience that is riddled with crowd-engaging moments, meticulously engineered pit fodder, and leads of such beauty that you could sing them in the shower, without sacrificing an ounce of the Africanized-bees-on-red-bull songwriting backbone. “Where do they go from here?” I wondered? Well, the answer is “bigger and better”, and if we are entering a new era of grandiosity over raw technique, I’m so here for it. You should be, too.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: Yet another stream, come on, guys
Label: Self-release
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

After no less than three albums’ worth of glowing praise from my great predecessor Kronos, it’s safe to say that a new Archspire is a big deal in the hall.1 One blistering offering after another has cemented these lads as among the forerunners of tech-death, pushing BPM and bass-string structural integrity in equal measure. But the human body, alas, has limits, and with previous release Bleed the Future already pushing the speedometer well into the red, one could be forgiven for invoking the oldest of clichés: Where do they go from here? There’s only so much speed, so much scale wankery to be derived from mere flesh and bone. With a bit of a self-referential title in Too Fast to Die, Archspire have made their mission statement clear and concise; will their meteoric rise continue to light up the sky, or will their first independent release see them crash and burn?

Archspire have officially been around long enough to say “Expect the expected.” Too Fast to Die continues the band’s whirlwind musical trajectory, with an emphasis on scorching tempos and arpeggios delivered at string-withering pace. New drummer Spence Moore (formerly of Inferi, among others) plays like the lives of his family depend on it, etching his identity into the music with a smorgasbord of snare fills and delightful rhythmic shifts which somehow manage to maintain a blasting pace without ever smearing together into one double-bass-filled haze. Vocalist Oliver Aleron continues to sound pulled from an alternate universe where Atilla doesn’t suck,2 spitting syllable-heavy diatribes with gleeful abandon and an s-tier talent for phrasing which lets him compliment the intensity rather than overwhelm it. Enough breathing room is given to the bass, letting Jared Smith fill in the cracks with sweeps that rumble and clang under the chords with vibrancy and potent kinetic energy (“Red Goliath”) before disappearing back under the assault. Everything is excellently executed, engaging, and familiar.

Too Fast to Die by Archspire

And yet, there is a clear rumbling of growth and evolution in the Archspire camp. Rather than openly go out of their way to crank all the knobs from 11 to 12, Too Fast to Die puts heavy stock on pathos-riddled melody, with a heavier leaning on atmospheric theatrics and amphitheater-ready harmonies which don’t seek to overwhelm as much as invigorate and inspire. Album highlight “Carrion Ladder” features a midsection with a pair of leads so relatively simple a fledgling guitar student could learn to play them, yet thanks to the band’s compositional mastery, this simplicity isn’t an anticlimactic letdown as much as a genuine moment of appreciable, raw beauty, not to mention it features one of Oliver’s catchiest vocal parts. Such moments are littered throughout the album, with the borderline emotional chug section of “Limb of Leviticus” transitioning into the band’s traditional plucked interludes with melancholy rather than neo-classical sheen. Archspire’s interludes in older albums would have sounded just as appropriate if played by harpsichord as much as guitar, but Too Fast to Die eschews just a touch of that dual identity to place a heavier focus on thematic coherence with massive dividends.

Nevertheless, this is still a death metal record, and any gushing over emotive power and atmospheric bombast shouldn’t frighten away fans. “Liminal Cypher” features an absolutely devastating slamming section, and “Deadbolt the Backward” briefly dispenses with the atmospheres and opts for sudden shifts of waltz time signatures and straightforward brutality akin to Deeds of Flesh covering an Origin song. The most tendinitis-inducing of leads kick down your front door in “Anomalous Descent” only to suddenly shift identities and flirt with the briefest of hardcore stylings while putting an exclamation point on the proceedings with honest-to-goodness gang vocals. Somehow, this works. While Archspire haven’t quite gone prog on us with clean vocals and a litany of guest instruments (thank God), it’s delightful to see them stretching their artistic wings in so many directions and skillsets, despite promotional material perhaps pitching them as a one-trick pony of speed.

I haven’t been as high on Archspire as some of my colleagues. I enjoyed them, but felt such a style could only be mined so much. Too Fast to Die is Archspire commanding me to take those opinions and violate myself with them, track after track after track. This album sees the band embracing their not-so-newfound star status and offering an experience that is riddled with crowd-engaging moments, meticulously engineered pit fodder, and leads of such beauty that you could sing them in the shower, without sacrificing an ounce of the Africanized-bees-on-red-bull songwriting backbone. “Where do they go from here?” I wondered? Well, the answer is “bigger and better”, and if we are entering a new era of grandiosity over raw technique, I’m so here for it. You should be, too.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: Yet another stream, come on, guys
Label: Self-release
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

omg more of the same, just as i wished ❤️ #archspire #TechDeath

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBs1ar7hjf4

omg more of the same, just as i wished ❤️ #archspire #TechDeath

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBs1ar7hjf4

Archspire release new single “The Vessel”

#Archspire

Link: https://metalinsider.net/video/archspire-release-new-single-the-vessel

Vanta – Perpetual Selection Review

The harsh environs of Australia are the perfect breeding grounds for brutal music. Xenobiotic based their latest on…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.0 #Archspire #AustralianMetal #CA #Canada #Entertainment #FreedomofFear #Fulci #Inferi #Insomnium #Mar26 #MelodicDeathMetal #Metalcore #PerpetualSelection #review #reviews #SelfReleased #Stortregn #TheBlackDahliaMurder #Vanta #Xenobiotic
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/542577/

Vanta – Perpetual Selection Review

The harsh environs of Australia are the perfect breeding grounds for brutal music. Xenobiotic based their latest on…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #3.0 #Archspire #AustralianMetal #Entertainment #FreedomofFear #Fulci #Inferi #Insomnium #Mar26 #MelodicDeathMetal #Metalcore #PerpetualSelection #review #reviews #SelfReleased #Stortregn #TheBlackDahliaMurder #Vanta #Xenobiotic
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/528983/

Vanta – Perpetual Selection Review

The harsh environs of Australia are the perfect breeding grounds for brutal music. Xenobiotic based their latest on…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #3.0 #Archspire #AustralianMetal #Entertainment #FreedomofFear #Fulci #Inferi #Insomnium #Mar26 #MelodicDeathMetal #Metalcore #PerpetualSelection #review #reviews #SelfReleased #Stortregn #TheBlackDahliaMurder #Vanta #Xenobiotic
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/528983/

Vanta – Perpetual Selection Review

The harsh environs of Australia are the perfect breeding grounds for brutal music. Xenobiotic based their latest on…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.0 #Archspire #AU #Australia #AustralianMetal #Entertainment #FreedomofFear #Fulci #Inferi #Insomnium #Mar26 #MelodicDeathMetal #metalcore #PerpetualSelection #review #reviews #SelfReleased #Stortregn #TheBlackDahliaMurder #Vanta #Xenobiotic
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Vanta – Perpetual Selection Review

The harsh environs of Australia are the perfect breeding grounds for brutal music. Xenobiotic based their latest on…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.0 #Archspire #AU #Australia #AustralianMetal #Entertainment #FreedomofFear #Fulci #Inferi #Insomnium #Mar26 #MelodicDeathMetal #metalcore #PerpetualSelection #review #reviews #SelfReleased #Stortregn #TheBlackDahliaMurder #Vanta #Xenobiotic
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/546431/

Vanta – Perpetual Selection Review

The harsh environs of Australia are the perfect breeding grounds for brutal music. Xenobiotic based their latest on…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.0 #Archspire #AustralianMetal #Entertainment #FreedomofFear #Fulci #Inferi #Insomnium #Mar26 #MelodicDeathMetal #Metalcore #PerpetualSelection #review #Reviews #SelfReleased #Stortregn #TheBlackDahliaMurder #UK #UnitedKingdom #Vanta #Xenobiotic
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https://www.europesays.com/ie/389769/ Vanta – Perpetual Selection Review #2026 #30 #Archspire #AustralianMetal #Éire #Entertainment #FreedomOfFear #Fulci #IE #Inferi #Insomnium #Ireland #Mar26 #MelodicDeathMetal #metalcore #Music #PerpetualSelection #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #Stortregn #TheBlackDahliaMurder #Vanta #Xenobiotic

The harsh environs of Australia are the perfect breeding grounds for brutal music. Xenobiotic based their latest on the hellish setting of Dante’s Inferno, an ideal topic for the desert landscape that dominates their home continent. The melodeath of Freedom of Fear has an acerbic tone perfect for combatting the numerous venomous animals that lurk there. Newcomers Vanta are similarly raising their debut, Perpetual Selection, amidst the brutal, but also lovely, backdrop of the Land Down Under. In truth, Australia is a complex place, featuring the harsh Outback, lush jungles, beautiful beaches, and modern cityscapes. Vanta reflect this complexity, playing a brutal melodeath style that borrows from a myriad of influences outside the genre. Time will tell whether these guys have what it takes to thrive in this environment or fall to the perpetual forces conspiring against their survival.

Perpetual Selection borrows heavily from the crushing melodeath of The Black Dahlia Murder, yet where TBDM inaccurately draw comparisons to metalcore, Vanta happily blend metalcore into their sound. However, they play energetic melodeath first and foremost, featuring some impressive guitar leads with only the occasional sprinkle of a breakdown (“Stillwater,” “Sandstalker”) or down-tuned guitar tones (“Empty Shell”). Beneath the crushing riffs is an effective melodic layer produced by the guitar duo of Thien Huynh and Jesse Venus. There’s a sense of constant kinetic motion between the duo as they lay out hooky leads (“Empty Shell,” “Kuyang”) and speedy solos (“Stillwater”). The blistering kitwork from Ferdi Handojo also adds to the sense of non-stop energy. Like TBDM, Vanta have a knack for creative intros that heighten the excitement when the song proper roars into action. These intros range from gentle arpeggios (“Sacred Light,” “Stillwater”) to Fulci-style horror screams (“Kuyang”), and all culminate in a testosterone-fueled explosion of riffs, blast beats, and growls.

As I mentioned in the intro, Vanta infuse a wide variety of influences from various genres, yet somehow allow them to flow naturally together. Following an energetic set of songs, “Drown” slows things down with a melodic piece that has a whiff of sadboi melodeath stalwarts Insomnium, and yet it somehow works, perhaps due to how it eases into the gloom following an energetic intro. “Alchemy” similarly heads in a new direction, patiently building into a memorable chorus rather than immediately going for the jugular. Somehow it transports me to Stortregn’s Impermanence as Venus sings “Ash to ash / dust to dust.” Finally, “Purity” is a complete surprise, ripping a speedy tune that sounds uncannily like something off an Archspire record. Yet this all works, creating an exciting and varied album, in part thanks to the chameleon-like vocal attack from Venus. He seamlessly switches from his usual rasps to deep growls to speedy Oliver Rae Aleron delivery as if it all naturally fits together.

This variety in tunes does expose some weaknesses on Perpetual Selection, however. Not all influences that Vanta draw from work in their favor. The straight-up metalcore track, “Sandstalker,” sticks out like a sore thumb with its lack of melody or hooks. Sandwiched between two fantastic tunes early on, it threatens to derail the record right from the start. A breakdown halfway through the bloated “Stillwater” is another odd choice; it’s not a metalcore song, so the segment just feels out of place. Yet it’s the penultimate track, “Transmorcide,” that feels the most adrift. It lacks any hooks or leads and seems unsure what it’s trying to do. These issues don’t detract enough to keep Perpetual Selection from being enjoyable and worth checking out, though; they just show opportunities for growth.

Perpetual Selection proves to be a fun record from a new, young band with lots of promise. Vanta shows creative songwriting chops as well as a willingness to stretch out of their comfort zone. Most importantly, they fit nicely in that TBDM sound without being a mere clone. If they hone their talents and skills, they can find a niche in the melodeath realm that TBDM and Inferi have carved, hopefully for many years to come.



Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Released
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: March 13th, 2026

The harsh environs of Australia are the perfect breeding grounds for brutal music. Xenobiotic based their latest on the hellish setting of Dante’s Inferno, an ideal topic for the desert landscape that dominates their home continent. The melodeath of Freedom of Fear has an acerbic tone perfect for combatting the numerous venomous animals that lurk there. Newcomers Vanta are similarly raising their debut, Perpetual Selection, amidst the brutal, but also lovely, backdrop of the Land Down Under. In truth, Australia is a complex place, featuring the harsh Outback, lush jungles, beautiful beaches, and modern cityscapes. Vanta reflect this complexity, playing a brutal melodeath style that borrows from a myriad of influences outside the genre. Time will tell whether these guys have what it takes to thrive in this environment or fall to the perpetual forces conspiring against their survival.

Perpetual Selection borrows heavily from the crushing melodeath of The Black Dahlia Murder, yet where TBDM inaccurately draw comparisons to metalcore, Vanta happily blend metalcore into their sound. However, they play energetic melodeath first and foremost, featuring some impressive guitar leads with only the occasional sprinkle of a breakdown (“Stillwater,” “Sandstalker”) or down-tuned guitar tones (“Empty Shell”). Beneath the crushing riffs is an effective melodic layer produced by the guitar duo of Thien Huynh and Jesse Venus. There’s a sense of constant kinetic motion between the duo as they lay out hooky leads (“Empty Shell,” “Kuyang”) and speedy solos (“Stillwater”). The blistering kitwork from Ferdi Handojo also adds to the sense of non-stop energy. Like TBDM, Vanta have a knack for creative intros that heighten the excitement when the song proper roars into action. These intros range from gentle arpeggios (“Sacred Light,” “Stillwater”) to Fulci-style horror screams (“Kuyang”), and all culminate in a testosterone-fueled explosion of riffs, blast beats, and growls.

As I mentioned in the intro, Vanta infuse a wide variety of influences from various genres, yet somehow allow them to flow naturally together. Following an energetic set of songs, “Drown” slows things down with a melodic piece that has a whiff of sadboi melodeath stalwarts Insomnium, and yet it somehow works, perhaps due to how it eases into the gloom following an energetic intro. “Alchemy” similarly heads in a new direction, patiently building into a memorable chorus rather than immediately going for the jugular. Somehow it transports me to Stortregn’s Impermanence as Venus sings “Ash to ash / dust to dust.” Finally, “Purity” is a complete surprise, ripping a speedy tune that sounds uncannily like something off an Archspire record. Yet this all works, creating an exciting and varied album, in part thanks to the chameleon-like vocal attack from Venus. He seamlessly switches from his usual rasps to deep growls to speedy Oliver Rae Aleron delivery as if it all naturally fits together.

This variety in tunes does expose some weaknesses on Perpetual Selection, however. Not all influences that Vanta draw from work in their favor. The straight-up metalcore track, “Sandstalker,” sticks out like a sore thumb with its lack of melody or hooks. Sandwiched between two fantastic tunes early on, it threatens to derail the record right from the start. A breakdown halfway through the bloated “Stillwater” is another odd choice; it’s not a metalcore song, so the segment just feels out of place. Yet it’s the penultimate track, “Transmorcide,” that feels the most adrift. It lacks any hooks or leads and seems unsure what it’s trying to do. These issues don’t detract enough to keep Perpetual Selection from being enjoyable and worth checking out, though; they just show opportunities for growth.

Perpetual Selection proves to be a fun record from a new, young band with lots of promise. Vanta shows creative songwriting chops as well as a willingness to stretch out of their comfort zone. Most importantly, they fit nicely in that TBDM sound without being a mere clone. If they hone their talents and skills, they can find a niche in the melodeath realm that TBDM and Inferi have carved, hopefully for many years to come.



Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Released
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: March 13th, 2026