#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

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

New #Archspire slaps so far!

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

New #Archspire slaps so far!

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

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

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

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

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

Brutal cold envelops the building as my minions scrape through ice and filthy slush to find even the smallest shard of metallic glimmer. With extensive budget cuts demanded by my exorbitant bonus schedule—as is my right as CEO of this filtration service—there was no room to purchase adequate gear and equipment for these harsher weathers. However, I did take up crocheting recently so each of my “employees” received a nice soft hat.

Hopefully, that will be enough to tide them over until the inclement weather passes and we return to normal temps. Until then, they have these rare finds to keep them warm, and so do you! REJOICE!

Kenstrosity’s Knightly Nightmare

AngelMaker // This Used to Be Heaven [November 20th, 2025 – Self Released]

I’ve been a fan of AngelMaker’s since their 2015 debut Dissentient. The grossly underrated and underappreciated Vancouver septet are a highly specialized deathcore infantry, with their lineup expanding steadily over their career in concert with their ever-increasing songwriting sophistication. Unlike the brutish and belligerent debut and follow-up AngelMaker, 2022’s Sanctum and new outing This Used to Be Heaven indulge in rich layering, near-neoclassical melodies, and dramatic atmosphere to complement AngelMaker’s trademark sense of swaggering groove. With early entries “Rich in Anguish” and “Haunter” establishing the strength of both sides of their sound, it always surprises me how AngelMaker successfully twist and gnarl their sound into shapes—whether it be hardcore, blackened, or melodic—I wasn’t anticipating (“Silken Hands,” “Relinquished,” “Nothing Left”). A rock-solid back half launched by the epic “The Omen” two-part suite brings these deviations from the expected into unity with the deathcore foundation I know AngelMaker so well for (“Malevolence Reigns,” “Altare Mortis”), and in doing so secure their status as one of the most reliably creative deathcore acts in the scene. Nothing here is going to change the minds of the fiercer deathcore detractors, but if your heart is open even just a crack, there’s a good chance This Used to Be Heaven will force themselves into it, if not entirely rip the whole thing asunder. My advice is simply to let it.

This Used To Be Heaven by AngelMaker

ClarkKent’s Sonic Symphonics

Brainblast // Colossus Suprema [November 11th, 2025 – Vmbrella]

A debut album five years in the making from a band formed in 2015, Colossus Suprema is the brainchild of Bogotá, Colombia’s Edd Jiménez. Jiménez turned his passion for and training in classical composition towards his symphonic progressive act, Brainblast. With Bach as an inspiration, Brainblast’s brand of technical death metal has the grandeur of Fleshgod Apocalypse, the speed of Archspire, and the virtuosity of concert musicians. Jiménez’s classical training shows — the compositions have an orchestral feel, only played at insane energy levels. The speed, the depth, and the breadth of the instrumentation are sure to leave you breathless. Nicholas Le Fou Wells (First Fragment) lays down relentless kitwork with jaw-dropping velocity, while Eetu Hernesmaa provides technical fretwork that’ll similarly leave you awestruck. He delivers sublime riffs on “Relentless Rise” and a surprising melodic lead that steals the show on “Unchain Your Soul.” Perhaps most prominent is the virtuoso play of the bass from Rich Gray (Annihilator) and Dominic Forest Lapointe (First Fragment) that is omnipresent and funky on each and every song. To top it all off is the piano (perhaps from Jiménez), giving the music some gravitas with the technical, concert-style playing. This record is just plain bonkers and tons of fun. Given this is the debut from a young musician, the idea that Brainblast has room to grow is plenty exciting.

COLOSSUS SUPREMA by BRAINBLAST

Gods of Gaia // Escape the Wonderland [November 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

If you’ve been eagerly awaiting the next SepticFlesh release, Germany’s Gods of Gaia have got you covered. Founded in 2023 by Kevin Sierra Eifert, Gods of Gaia is made up of an anonymous collective from around the world, contributing to a dark, heavy, and aggressive form of symphonic metal. Their sophomore album, Escape the Wonderland, features a collection of death metal songs with plenty of orchestral arrangements that add a dramatic flair. Along with crushing riffs and thunderous blast beats, you’ll hear choral chants (“Escape the Wonderland,” “Burn for Me”), bits of piano (“What It Takes”), and plenty of cinematic symphonics. SepticFlesh is the obvious influence, but the grandiosity of Fleshgod Apocalypse flares up on cuts like the dramatic “Rise Up.” The front half is largely aggressive, with “What It Takes” taking the energy to thrash levels. The back half dials down the energy, even creeping to near doom on “Krieg in Mir,” but never pulls back on the heaviness. Cool as the symphonic elements are, the riffs, blast beats, and brutal vocal delivery are just as impressive. Make no mistake, this is melodic death metal above all else, with symphonic seasonings that elevate it a notch. Just the opposite of what the record title suggests, this is one wonderland you won’t want to escape.

Escape the Wonderland by Gods of Gaia

Grin Reaper’s Frozen Feast

Hounds of Bayanay // КЭМ [November 15, 2025 – Self Released]

Two-and-a-half years after dropping debut Legends of the North, Hounds of Bayanay returns with КЭМ to sate your eternal lust for folk metal.1 Blending heavy metal with folk instrumentation, specifically kyrympa2 and khomus,3 as well as throat singing, Hounds of Bayanay might sound like a Tengger Cavalry or The Hu knockoff, but you’ll do yourself a disservice by writing them off. Boldly enunciated, clarion cleans belt out in confident proclamations while grittier refrains and overtones resonate beneath, proffering assorted and engaging vocal stylings. Rather than dwelling overlong in strings and tribal chanting, the deft fusion of folk instruments with traditional metal defines Hounds’ sound and feels cohesively integrated on КЭМ, providing an intimate yet heavy backdrop to a hook-laden and alluringly replayable thirty-nine minutes. In addition to the eclectic folk influence, there’s a satisfying variety of songwriting from track to track, with “Ardaq,” “Cɯsqa:n,” and “Dɔʃɔrum” exemplifying the enticing synthesis of styles. More than anything else, Hounds of Bayanay embodies heart and fun, warming my chilly days with a well-executed platter of Eastern-influenced folk metal. Don’t skip this one, or the decision could hound you.

KEM by Hounds Of Bayanay

Blood Red Throne // Siltskin [December 05, 2025 – Soulseller Records]

I’m shoving up against the deadline to wedge this one in, but Blood Red Throne’s latest deserves a mention, and bulldozing is just the sort of thing you should do while listening to BRT’s brand of bludgeoning, pit-stomping romp. Back in December, the venerable Norwegian death metal act dropped twelfth album Siltskin, maintaining their prolific and consistent release schedule. In addition to their dependable output, BRT stays the course with pummeling, brutish pomp. In his coverage of Nonagon and Imperial Congregation, Doc Grier drums up comparisons to Old Man’s Child, Panzerchrist, and Hypocrisy, and while I’m not inclined to disagree on those points, I’ll add that Siltskin also harkens to Kill-era Cannibal Corpse in its slick coalition of mid-paced slammers, warp-speed blitzes, and fat ‘n’ frolicking bass. Add to that the sly, sticky melody from the likes of Sentenced’s North from Here (“Vestigial Remnants”), and you’ve got a recipe for a righteous forty-five-minute smash-a-thon. Blood Red Throne’s last few records have been among their best, which is an incredible feat for a band this far into their career. While Siltskin doesn’t surpass BRT’s high-water mark, it keeps up, and if you’re hungry for an aural beatdown, then Blood Red Throne would like to throw their crown into the ring for consideration.

Siltskin by Blood Red Throne

Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu // Immortality [December 17, 2025 – Bang the Head Records]

I am woefully late to the charms of Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu, a Japanese death metal outfit prominently featuring slap ‘n’ pop bass. Had it not been for our trusty Flippered Friend, I might have continued this grievous injustice of ignorance, but thankfully, this is not the timeline to which I’m doomed. Immortality is Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu’s seventh album, and those who enjoy the band’s previous work should remain satisfied. For new acolytes, Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu grasps the rabid intensity of Vader and Krisiun and imbues it with a funky edge. Meaty bass rumbles and sprightly slapped accents, provided by bassist/vocalist Haruhisa Takahata, merge with Kouki Akita’s kit obliteration to establish a thunderous, unrelenting rhythm section. Atop the lower end’s heft, Keiichi Enjouji shreds and squeals with thrashy vigor and a keen understanding of melody. First proper track “Anima Immortalis” even includes gang intonations that work so well, I wish they were more prevalent across the album. The sum total of Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu’s atmosphere is one of plucky exuberance that strikes with the force of a roundhouse kick to the dome. Had I discovered it sooner, Immortality would have qualified for a 2025 year-end honorable mention, as I haven’t been able to stop spinning it or the band’s prior releases.4 Though I’m still in the honeymoon phase, I expect this platter to live on in my listening, and recommend you not miss this GTK killer like I almost did.

Thus Spoke’s Random Revelations

The Algorithm // Recursive Infinity [November 21st, 2025 – Self Released]

I’ve been a fan of The Algorithm since the early days, back when their electronica-djent was almost twee in its experimental joy, spliced with light-hearted samples. Over the years, Rémi Gallego has tuned his flair for mesmeric, playful compositions to develop a richer, more streamlined sound. Recursive Infinity continues the recent upward trend Data Renaissance began. With riffs and rhythms the slickest since Brute Force, and melodies the brightest and most colourful since equally-prettily adorned Polymorphic Code, it’s a cyberpunk tour-de-force. The wildness is trained, chunky heaviness grounding magnetic melodies (“Race Condition,” “Mutex,” “By Design”), dense chugging transitioning seamlessly into techno (“Advanced Iteration Technique,” “Hollowing,” “Graceful Degradation), and adding bite to bubbly, candy-coloured soundscapes (“Rainbow Table,”). The skittering of breakbeats tempers synthwave (“Endless Iteration), and bright pulses wrap cascading electro-core (“Race Condition,” “Mutex”) and orchestral melodrama (“Recursive Infinity”). It’s often strongly reminiscent of some point in The Algorithm’s history, but everything is upgraded from charming to entrancing. This provides a new way to interpret Recursive Infinity: not just a reference to an endless loop in general, but to Boucle Infinie (Infinite Loop)—Remi’s other musical project—and by extension, The Algorithm themselves. Yet he is still experimenting, including vocoder vocals (“Endless Iteration,” “By Design”) for a surprisingly successful dark-Daft Punk vibe in slower, moodier moments. With nostalgic throwbacks transformed so beautifully, and the continued evolution, there’s simply no way I can ignore The Algorithm now. And neither should you.

Recursive Infinity by The Algorithm

Owlswald’s Holiday Scraps

Sun of the Suns // Entanglement [December 12th, 2025 – Scarlet Records]

Bands and labels take heed—We reserve December for two things: Listurnalia and celebrating another trip around the sun. It is not for releasing new music. Yet this blunder persists, ensuring we inevitably miss gems like Sun of the Suns’ sophomore effort, Entanglement.5 The record dropped just as the world was tuning out for the year, and it deserves much better. Building on the foundation of their 2021 debut, TIIT, the Italian trio has significantly beefed up their progressive death formula. Mixing tech-death articulation with deathcore brutality, Entanglement ensures fans of Fallujah will feel right at home with its effervescent clean melodies and crystalline textures. Francesca Paoli (Fleshgod Apocalypse) returns to provide another masterclass behind the kit with rapid-fire double-bass, blasts, and tom fills, while guitarists Marco Righetti and Ludovico Cioffi deliver cosmic shredding and radiant solos that are both technical and deliberate. While the early tracks lean into Fallujahian songcraft and Tesseract-style arpeggios, the album shines brightest late when the group largely sheds its stylistic orbit. “Please, Blackout My Eyes” pivots toward a majestic Aeternam vibe with ethereal tech-death incisiveness, while “One With the Sun” and “The Void Where Sound Ends Its Path” hit like a sledgehammer with Xenobiotic’s deathcore grooves. Though Luca Dave Scarlatti’s vocals lack differentiation, the sheer quality of the compositions carries the weight, proving Sun of the Suns are much more than mere clones.

Entanglement by Sun Of The Suns

Brutal cold envelops the building as my minions scrape through ice and filthy slush to find even the smallest shard of metallic glimmer. With extensive budget cuts demanded by my exorbitant bonus schedule—as is my right as CEO of this filtration service—there was no room to purchase adequate gear and equipment for these harsher weathers. However, I did take up crocheting recently so each of my “employees” received a nice soft hat.

Hopefully, that will be enough to tide them over until the inclement weather passes and we return to normal temps. Until then, they have these rare finds to keep them warm, and so do you! REJOICE!

Kenstrosity’s Knightly Nightmare

AngelMaker // This Used to Be Heaven [November 20th, 2025 – Self Released]

I’ve been a fan of AngelMaker’s since their 2015 debut Dissentient. The grossly underrated and underappreciated Vancouver septet are a highly specialized deathcore infantry, with their lineup expanding steadily over their career in concert with their ever-increasing songwriting sophistication. Unlike the brutish and belligerent debut and follow-up AngelMaker, 2022’s Sanctum and new outing This Used to Be Heaven indulge in rich layering, near-neoclassical melodies, and dramatic atmosphere to complement AngelMaker’s trademark sense of swaggering groove. With early entries “Rich in Anguish” and “Haunter” establishing the strength of both sides of their sound, it always surprises me how AngelMaker successfully twist and gnarl their sound into shapes—whether it be hardcore, blackened, or melodic—I wasn’t anticipating (“Silken Hands,” “Relinquished,” “Nothing Left”). A rock-solid back half launched by the epic “The Omen” two-part suite brings these deviations from the expected into unity with the deathcore foundation I know AngelMaker so well for (“Malevolence Reigns,” “Altare Mortis”), and in doing so secure their status as one of the most reliably creative deathcore acts in the scene. Nothing here is going to change the minds of the fiercer deathcore detractors, but if your heart is open even just a crack, there’s a good chance This Used to Be Heaven will force themselves into it, if not entirely rip the whole thing asunder. My advice is simply to let it.

This Used To Be Heaven by AngelMaker

ClarkKent’s Sonic Symphonics

Brainblast // Colossus Suprema [November 11th, 2025 – Vmbrella]

A debut album five years in the making from a band formed in 2015, Colossus Suprema is the brainchild of Bogotá, Colombia’s Edd Jiménez. Jiménez turned his passion for and training in classical composition towards his symphonic progressive act, Brainblast. With Bach as an inspiration, Brainblast’s brand of technical death metal has the grandeur of Fleshgod Apocalypse, the speed of Archspire, and the virtuosity of concert musicians. Jiménez’s classical training shows — the compositions have an orchestral feel, only played at insane energy levels. The speed, the depth, and the breadth of the instrumentation are sure to leave you breathless. Nicholas Le Fou Wells (First Fragment) lays down relentless kitwork with jaw-dropping velocity, while Eetu Hernesmaa provides technical fretwork that’ll similarly leave you awestruck. He delivers sublime riffs on “Relentless Rise” and a surprising melodic lead that steals the show on “Unchain Your Soul.” Perhaps most prominent is the virtuoso play of the bass from Rich Gray (Annihilator) and Dominic Forest Lapointe (First Fragment) that is omnipresent and funky on each and every song. To top it all off is the piano (perhaps from Jiménez), giving the music some gravitas with the technical, concert-style playing. This record is just plain bonkers and tons of fun. Given this is the debut from a young musician, the idea that Brainblast has room to grow is plenty exciting.

COLOSSUS SUPREMA by BRAINBLAST

Gods of Gaia // Escape the Wonderland [November 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

If you’ve been eagerly awaiting the next SepticFlesh release, Germany’s Gods of Gaia have got you covered. Founded in 2023 by Kevin Sierra Eifert, Gods of Gaia is made up of an anonymous collective from around the world, contributing to a dark, heavy, and aggressive form of symphonic metal. Their sophomore album, Escape the Wonderland, features a collection of death metal songs with plenty of orchestral arrangements that add a dramatic flair. Along with crushing riffs and thunderous blast beats, you’ll hear choral chants (“Escape the Wonderland,” “Burn for Me”), bits of piano (“What It Takes”), and plenty of cinematic symphonics. SepticFlesh is the obvious influence, but the grandiosity of Fleshgod Apocalypse flares up on cuts like the dramatic “Rise Up.” The front half is largely aggressive, with “What It Takes” taking the energy to thrash levels. The back half dials down the energy, even creeping to near doom on “Krieg in Mir,” but never pulls back on the heaviness. Cool as the symphonic elements are, the riffs, blast beats, and brutal vocal delivery are just as impressive. Make no mistake, this is melodic death metal above all else, with symphonic seasonings that elevate it a notch. Just the opposite of what the record title suggests, this is one wonderland you won’t want to escape.

Escape the Wonderland by Gods of Gaia

Grin Reaper’s Frozen Feast

Hounds of Bayanay // КЭМ [November 15, 2025 – Self Released]

Two-and-a-half years after dropping debut Legends of the North, Hounds of Bayanay returns with КЭМ to sate your eternal lust for folk metal.1 Blending heavy metal with folk instrumentation, specifically kyrympa2 and khomus,3 as well as throat singing, Hounds of Bayanay might sound like a Tengger Cavalry or The Hu knockoff, but you’ll do yourself a disservice by writing them off. Boldly enunciated, clarion cleans belt out in confident proclamations while grittier refrains and overtones resonate beneath, proffering assorted and engaging vocal stylings. Rather than dwelling overlong in strings and tribal chanting, the deft fusion of folk instruments with traditional metal defines Hounds’ sound and feels cohesively integrated on КЭМ, providing an intimate yet heavy backdrop to a hook-laden and alluringly replayable thirty-nine minutes. In addition to the eclectic folk influence, there’s a satisfying variety of songwriting from track to track, with “Ardaq,” “Cɯsqa:n,” and “Dɔʃɔrum” exemplifying the enticing synthesis of styles. More than anything else, Hounds of Bayanay embodies heart and fun, warming my chilly days with a well-executed platter of Eastern-influenced folk metal. Don’t skip this one, or the decision could hound you.

KEM by Hounds Of Bayanay

Blood Red Throne // Siltskin [December 05, 2025 – Soulseller Records]

I’m shoving up against the deadline to wedge this one in, but Blood Red Throne’s latest deserves a mention, and bulldozing is just the sort of thing you should do while listening to BRT’s brand of bludgeoning, pit-stomping romp. Back in December, the venerable Norwegian death metal act dropped twelfth album Siltskin, maintaining their prolific and consistent release schedule. In addition to their dependable output, BRT stays the course with pummeling, brutish pomp. In his coverage of Nonagon and Imperial Congregation, Doc Grier drums up comparisons to Old Man’s Child, Panzerchrist, and Hypocrisy, and while I’m not inclined to disagree on those points, I’ll add that Siltskin also harkens to Kill-era Cannibal Corpse in its slick coalition of mid-paced slammers, warp-speed blitzes, and fat ‘n’ frolicking bass. Add to that the sly, sticky melody from the likes of Sentenced’s North from Here (“Vestigial Remnants”), and you’ve got a recipe for a righteous forty-five-minute smash-a-thon. Blood Red Throne’s last few records have been among their best, which is an incredible feat for a band this far into their career. While Siltskin doesn’t surpass BRT’s high-water mark, it keeps up, and if you’re hungry for an aural beatdown, then Blood Red Throne would like to throw their crown into the ring for consideration.

Siltskin by Blood Red Throne

Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu // Immortality [December 17, 2025 – Bang the Head Records]

I am woefully late to the charms of Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu, a Japanese death metal outfit prominently featuring slap ‘n’ pop bass. Had it not been for our trusty Flippered Friend, I might have continued this grievous injustice of ignorance, but thankfully, this is not the timeline to which I’m doomed. Immortality is Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu’s seventh album, and those who enjoy the band’s previous work should remain satisfied. For new acolytes, Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu grasps the rabid intensity of Vader and Krisiun and imbues it with a funky edge. Meaty bass rumbles and sprightly slapped accents, provided by bassist/vocalist Haruhisa Takahata, merge with Kouki Akita’s kit obliteration to establish a thunderous, unrelenting rhythm section. Atop the lower end’s heft, Keiichi Enjouji shreds and squeals with thrashy vigor and a keen understanding of melody. First proper track “Anima Immortalis” even includes gang intonations that work so well, I wish they were more prevalent across the album. The sum total of Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu’s atmosphere is one of plucky exuberance that strikes with the force of a roundhouse kick to the dome. Had I discovered it sooner, Immortality would have qualified for a 2025 year-end honorable mention, as I haven’t been able to stop spinning it or the band’s prior releases.4 Though I’m still in the honeymoon phase, I expect this platter to live on in my listening, and recommend you not miss this GTK killer like I almost did.

Thus Spoke’s Random Revelations

The Algorithm // Recursive Infinity [November 21st, 2025 – Self Released]

I’ve been a fan of The Algorithm since the early days, back when their electronica-djent was almost twee in its experimental joy, spliced with light-hearted samples. Over the years, Rémi Gallego has tuned his flair for mesmeric, playful compositions to develop a richer, more streamlined sound. Recursive Infinity continues the recent upward trend Data Renaissance began. With riffs and rhythms the slickest since Brute Force, and melodies the brightest and most colourful since equally-prettily adorned Polymorphic Code, it’s a cyberpunk tour-de-force. The wildness is trained, chunky heaviness grounding magnetic melodies (“Race Condition,” “Mutex,” “By Design”), dense chugging transitioning seamlessly into techno (“Advanced Iteration Technique,” “Hollowing,” “Graceful Degradation), and adding bite to bubbly, candy-coloured soundscapes (“Rainbow Table,”). The skittering of breakbeats tempers synthwave (“Endless Iteration), and bright pulses wrap cascading electro-core (“Race Condition,” “Mutex”) and orchestral melodrama (“Recursive Infinity”). It’s often strongly reminiscent of some point in The Algorithm’s history, but everything is upgraded from charming to entrancing. This provides a new way to interpret Recursive Infinity: not just a reference to an endless loop in general, but to Boucle Infinie (Infinite Loop)—Remi’s other musical project—and by extension, The Algorithm themselves. Yet he is still experimenting, including vocoder vocals (“Endless Iteration,” “By Design”) for a surprisingly successful dark-Daft Punk vibe in slower, moodier moments. With nostalgic throwbacks transformed so beautifully, and the continued evolution, there’s simply no way I can ignore The Algorithm now. And neither should you.

Recursive Infinity by The Algorithm

Owlswald’s Holiday Scraps

Sun of the Suns // Entanglement [December 12th, 2025 – Scarlet Records]

Bands and labels take heed—We reserve December for two things: Listurnalia and celebrating another trip around the sun. It is not for releasing new music. Yet this blunder persists, ensuring we inevitably miss gems like Sun of the Suns’ sophomore effort, Entanglement.5 The record dropped just as the world was tuning out for the year, and it deserves much better. Building on the foundation of their 2021 debut, TIIT, the Italian trio has significantly beefed up their progressive death formula. Mixing tech-death articulation with deathcore brutality, Entanglement ensures fans of Fallujah will feel right at home with its effervescent clean melodies and crystalline textures. Francesca Paoli (Fleshgod Apocalypse) returns to provide another masterclass behind the kit with rapid-fire double-bass, blasts, and tom fills, while guitarists Marco Righetti and Ludovico Cioffi deliver cosmic shredding and radiant solos that are both technical and deliberate. While the early tracks lean into Fallujahian songcraft and Tesseract-style arpeggios, the album shines brightest late when the group largely sheds its stylistic orbit. “Please, Blackout My Eyes” pivots toward a majestic Aeternam vibe with ethereal tech-death incisiveness, while “One With the Sun” and “The Void Where Sound Ends Its Path” hit like a sledgehammer with Xenobiotic’s deathcore grooves. Though Luca Dave Scarlatti’s vocals lack differentiation, the sheer quality of the compositions carries the weight, proving Sun of the Suns are much more than mere clones.

Entanglement by Sun Of The Suns

Catch up now: 53 new songs/videos recently released – 1/28/2026:

#NewSongs #NewVideos #Mayhem #Archspire #Poppy #MetalAllegiance

Link: https://metalinsider.net/new-music/catch-up-now-53-new-songs-videos-recently-released-1-28-2026

Carrion Vael has cultivated an admirably consistent release schedule since dropping Resurrection of the Doomed in 2017. After unleashing follow-up God Killer in 2020, the Richmond, Indiana quintet has delivered big, veiny doses of muscular, technical melodeath every other year. Slay Utterly is Carrion Vael’s fifth load of unfettered aggression, slinging riffs that sparkle and crush in whiplashing frenzies. Though not explicitly billed as a concept album, Slay Utterly delves into tales morbid and macabre. Each track describes a different serial killer, with songs exploring the perspectives of both killers and their victims. It’s a brutal conceit, and with it Carrion Vael bum-rushes into 2026 with ambitions of aural beatdowns that’ll leave your ears bleeding. With five albums in fewer than ten years, does Carrion Vael have the stamina to keep slaying, or would they benefit from more premeditation?

Looking back over the last three albums, Carrion Vael strikes me as a band trying out different personas. Abhorrent Obsessions revels in technicality, reminding me of Exocrine and Psycroptic, while Cannibals Anonymous dabbles with deathcore along with adding a hearty helping of clean vocals. Overall, Carrion Vael embodies the violent onslaught of The Black Dahlia Murder and merges it with the melodic agility of Allegaeon, crafting an influence-laced affair with staunch sonic keystones. The clean and harsh vocal trade-offs throughout Slay Utterly serve as a clever nod to the killer/victim subject matter, expanding on the melodic phrasing from Cannibals. Meanwhile, understated orchestrations occasionally sneak in, unlocking an intricate audio arena that ranges from bludgeoning to grandiose and bracing Carrion Vael for their next evolution.

Slay Utterly by Carrion Vael

Carrion Vael scintillates with battering virtuosity on Slay Utterly, continuing both the technical guile from Abhorrent Obsessions and the savage euphony of Cannibals Anonymous. Guitarists Trenton Limburg and Ryan Kurder strut up and down the fretboard like cocks of the walk, ejecting molten melodies and solos with wicked exuberance. “Truth or Consequences” features choice six-string moments, opening with a stripped-back, Spanish-style acoustic jaunt and unleashing a nifty harmonized solo towards the end. In the meantime, human metronome Matt Boehner bashes his kit to smithereens, rarely relenting in his unyielding kicks and bionically smooth fills. On the vocal front, Travis Lawson Purcell roars, croons, and bellows in an inspired exhibition of versatility, with “1912” demonstrating his strong cleans as well as rapid-fire stylings that recall Archspire. Throughout, subtle swells of strings (“19(fucking)78”, “Black Chariot”) expand on a burgeoning dimension of Carrion Vael’s already overflowing arsenal.

Despite Carrion Vael doing so much right, a few weak links undercut what Slay Utterly could be. Given the complex layers populating this lush soundscape, it craves room to breathe. Instead, Slay Utterly nearly asphyxiates for lack of dynamic range, with Alex Arford’s bass the most immediate casualty in the loudness war.1 Listening in my car or through my computer speakers dampens the experience because of how crushed everything sounds, which I loathe because of the fabulous passion present. My headphones present an improved experience, but not by much. Influences also restrict Carrion Vael’s identity, where some tracks sound like mashups of other bands rather than an original, cohesive personality. While “40 Echoes upon the Parlor” separates itself by dexterously blending hyper-speed guitars, harsh and clean vocals, and supporting orchestrations, adopting this modality across all tracks would further buoy Slay Utterly. Lastly, I wish there were more obvious musical cues that coincided with the album’s theme. I listened to it ten times before I read the promo blurb about serial killers and their victims, but even knowing that, nothing stands out to connect the songs with their inspirations. Leaning into the concept more would have helped the album attain loftier heights.

Ultimately, Slay Utterly leaves me torn of heart and eardrum. Carrion Vael delivers a fun album that I would revisit more if the production leaned toward organic and rich rather than bricked and over-compressed. Despite that, these Hoosiers have constructed a burly forty-two minutes that sizzle with enough slick riffcraft to justify at least one spin. Knowing what aural atrocities Carrion Vael is capable of committing, I hope their next platter saunters in with a better production and more hooks to kill.

Rating: Good
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Unique Leader Records
Websites: Bandcamp23 | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2026

Carrion Vael has cultivated an admirably consistent release schedule since dropping Resurrection of the Doomed in 2017. After unleashing follow-up God Killer in 2020, the Richmond, Indiana quintet has delivered big, veiny doses of muscular, technical melodeath every other year. Slay Utterly is Carrion Vael’s fifth load of unfettered aggression, slinging riffs that sparkle and crush in whiplashing frenzies. Though not explicitly billed as a concept album, Slay Utterly delves into tales morbid and macabre. Each track describes a different serial killer, with songs exploring the perspectives of both killers and their victims. It’s a brutal conceit, and with it Carrion Vael bum-rushes into 2026 with ambitions of aural beatdowns that’ll leave your ears bleeding. With five albums in fewer than ten years, does Carrion Vael have the stamina to keep slaying, or would they benefit from more premeditation?

Looking back over the last three albums, Carrion Vael strikes me as a band trying out different personas. Abhorrent Obsessions revels in technicality, reminding me of Exocrine and Psycroptic, while Cannibals Anonymous dabbles with deathcore along with adding a hearty helping of clean vocals. Overall, Carrion Vael embodies the violent onslaught of The Black Dahlia Murder and merges it with the melodic agility of Allegaeon, crafting an influence-laced affair with staunch sonic keystones. The clean and harsh vocal trade-offs throughout Slay Utterly serve as a clever nod to the killer/victim subject matter, expanding on the melodic phrasing from Cannibals. Meanwhile, understated orchestrations occasionally sneak in, unlocking an intricate audio arena that ranges from bludgeoning to grandiose and bracing Carrion Vael for their next evolution.

Slay Utterly by Carrion Vael

Carrion Vael scintillates with battering virtuosity on Slay Utterly, continuing both the technical guile from Abhorrent Obsessions and the savage euphony of Cannibals Anonymous. Guitarists Trenton Limburg and Ryan Kurder strut up and down the fretboard like cocks of the walk, ejecting molten melodies and solos with wicked exuberance. “Truth or Consequences” features choice six-string moments, opening with a stripped-back, Spanish-style acoustic jaunt and unleashing a nifty harmonized solo towards the end. In the meantime, human metronome Matt Boehner bashes his kit to smithereens, rarely relenting in his unyielding kicks and bionically smooth fills. On the vocal front, Travis Lawson Purcell roars, croons, and bellows in an inspired exhibition of versatility, with “1912” demonstrating his strong cleans as well as rapid-fire stylings that recall Archspire. Throughout, subtle swells of strings (“19(fucking)78”, “Black Chariot”) expand on a burgeoning dimension of Carrion Vael’s already overflowing arsenal.

Despite Carrion Vael doing so much right, a few weak links undercut what Slay Utterly could be. Given the complex layers populating this lush soundscape, it craves room to breathe. Instead, Slay Utterly nearly asphyxiates for lack of dynamic range, with Alex Arford’s bass the most immediate casualty in the loudness war.1 Listening in my car or through my computer speakers dampens the experience because of how crushed everything sounds, which I loathe because of the fabulous passion present. My headphones present an improved experience, but not by much. Influences also restrict Carrion Vael’s identity, where some tracks sound like mashups of other bands rather than an original, cohesive personality. While “40 Echoes upon the Parlor” separates itself by dexterously blending hyper-speed guitars, harsh and clean vocals, and supporting orchestrations, adopting this modality across all tracks would further buoy Slay Utterly. Lastly, I wish there were more obvious musical cues that coincided with the album’s theme. I listened to it ten times before I read the promo blurb about serial killers and their victims, but even knowing that, nothing stands out to connect the songs with their inspirations. Leaning into the concept more would have helped the album attain loftier heights.

Ultimately, Slay Utterly leaves me torn of heart and eardrum. Carrion Vael delivers a fun album that I would revisit more if the production leaned toward organic and rich rather than bricked and over-compressed. Despite that, these Hoosiers have constructed a burly forty-two minutes that sizzle with enough slick riffcraft to justify at least one spin. Knowing what aural atrocities Carrion Vael is capable of committing, I hope their next platter saunters in with a better production and more hooks to kill.

Rating: Good
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Unique Leader Records
Websites: Bandcamp23 | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2026