#belgianmetal — Public Fediverse posts

#ThursDeath this week is one man project GATEWAY from Bruges. This is some heavy, crushing shit from Belgium. What an LP this is. This is 'Galgendood' from 2023.

https://gatewayband.bandcamp.com/album/galgendood

Churning, galloping OSDM vibes on this, but also some black metal-esque screeching. 6 tracks of super cavernous, brutal death doom about blood oaths and bog bodies.

#metal #DeathMetal #Belgium #Bruges #BelgianMetal #doom #DeathDoom @HailsandAles @wendigo @rtw @guffo @AlfeeDee @c0m4 @Kitty @umrk @flockofnazguls @swampgas @nnenov @ttntm @Affekt

#ThursDeath this week is one man project GATEWAY from Bruges. This is some heavy, crushing shit from Belgium. What an LP this is. This is 'Galgendood' from 2023.

https://gatewayband.bandcamp.com/album/galgendood

Churning, galloping OSDM vibes on this, but also some black metal-esque screeching. 6 tracks of super cavernous, brutal death doom about blood oaths and bog bodies.

#metal #DeathMetal #Belgium #Bruges #BelgianMetal #doom #DeathDoom @HailsandAles @wendigo @rtw @guffo @AlfeeDee @c0m4 @Kitty @umrk @flockofnazguls @swampgas @nnenov @ttntm @Affekt

Emptiness, nothingness, absence, non-being: such evocations of negation abound in extreme metal, often justifiably given the visceral analogy between dense dissonance and existential dysphoria. Among the acts walking this walk, Belgium’s Emptiness proudly stalk, with the blurb for seventh full-length Nowhere Speaks explicitly stating that it is “entirely unconcerned with making its listener comfortable.” The group’s trajectory thus far has taken them from uncompromising blackened death into ever more ambient and experimental territory, where they first crossed into the AMG-verse via Jean-Luc Ricard’s 2014 TYMHM post on Nothing But the Whole, and returned in 2017 to send shivers down Grymm’s spine with Not For Music. The sudden pivot into French-sung, distortion-free Vide was no less disturbing for its quietitude, though it may have ironically alienated fans. Nowhere Speaks thus carries the weight of significant mystery: what form has Emptiness taken this time, and does it bear any connection to their past?

Nowhere Speaks sees Emptiness heap scorn over those who doubted them—this is all of Emptiness, and there’s nothing random about it. The album begins with this affirmation, picking up the riff that was cut-off midway from Nothing But the Whole’s closer “Lowland,” and carrying on (“Nothing But The Whole (Part 2)”). It ends with it too, final track “All For Nothing” lapsing into the malevolent soundscape of Nothing But The Whole’s first, “Go and Hope,” and stopping with similar abruptness—a synecdoche for the wider circularity that connects these two albums over a decade apart. This brings a weird closure to the former record, even as Nowhere Speaks’ ending perpetuates the unsettled and unsettling sempiternality. Emptiness’ self-referential horror doesn’t stop at album construction. In a direct mirror of predecessor Vide, which was recorded by each member in isolation and geographically distant, Nowhere Speaks was recorded live all at once in the studio. This reassembling works as a metaphor for this album’s sound, which reconstructs many of Emptiness’ elements in both familiar and unfamiliar ways.

Nowhere Speaks is the opposite of immediate; everything about it creeps. And it creeps inexorably, as certain as death. The dark melodies and restlessly stalking tempos (“Nowhere Speaks,” “Words to Wind,” “When the Whole Arrives”1) are only the half of it. Sometimes the music’s atmosphere incarnates as disso-death moodiness, (“Words to Wind,” “When the Whole Arrives”), sometimes as the blurriness of noisy atmo-black (“The Threat,” “One Must See All,” “All For Nothing”), sometimes as warped, static-scattered ambience (“Darkness Commands,” “Words to Wind,” “Next In Line”). Tremolos often feel almost warm (“Nowhere Speaks,” “All For Nothing”) until they aren’t (“Words to Wind”), and the stylistic incongruence between them and the electro-industrial edge that warps whispered growls creates an eerie tone throughout. The highest points are the culmination of these apparent inconsistencies, some new genre Emptiness have been crafting all this time—a pared-back blackened-death, dark ambient, groovy, and dissonant. It builds in the second act of “Words to Wind,” stalks with predatory grace at “When the Whole Arrives”‘s intro, and spreads insidiously in “Next In Line.” Emptiness pass through extreme metal and cloak elements in atmosphere, yet all this adds rather than subtracts tension and fearfulness.

These nuanced and unusual textures are intriguing, but they sometimes veer towards a mélange that’s too understated. Emptiness have absolutely nailed the vibe, and much of Nowhere Speaks does capitalise on the magical combination of pseudo-dissonant guitar, smothering dark ambience, and unusual compositional shapes. I can forgive the myriad interludes—some of which, particularly “Darkness Commands,” are excellent in their own right—which bleed in and out of the main songs. It’s the wavering vagaries in the midpoints and margins that threaten to fade too far into the background. The burying of instruments whilst nothing else drives a progression (“Nowhere Speaks,”); muffled voices and noise (“Words to Wind”), an immersion-breaking slide into the major (“Nowhere Speaks,” “The Clash of Forces,” “All for Nothing”). At least it sounds brilliant—all the layers distinguishable, the reverb a softness rather than an obstruction, the drums, vocals and guitars each having space to spook you.

Emptiness are evidently believers in the virtue of patience, answering the open question of Nothing But The Whole’s abrupt ending more than a decade after it was posed. Nowhere Speaks is no anomaly; give it time, and it spreads out like a great gulf of nothing.2 It may have taken many listens, but I’m now so immersed in the void of beautiful nothingness Emptiness have created, that it’s hard to remember I ever really had my doubts.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

Emptiness, nothingness, absence, non-being: such evocations of negation abound in extreme metal, often justifiably given the visceral analogy between dense dissonance and existential dysphoria. Among the acts walking this walk, Belgium’s Emptiness proudly stalk, with the blurb for seventh full-length Nowhere Speaks explicitly stating that it is “entirely unconcerned with making its listener comfortable.” The group’s trajectory thus far has taken them from uncompromising blackened death into ever more ambient and experimental territory, where they first crossed into the AMG-verse via Jean-Luc Ricard’s 2014 TYMHM post on Nothing But the Whole, and returned in 2017 to send shivers down Grymm’s spine with Not For Music. The sudden pivot into French-sung, distortion-free Vide was no less disturbing for its quietitude, though it may have ironically alienated fans. Nowhere Speaks thus carries the weight of significant mystery: what form has Emptiness taken this time, and does it bear any connection to their past?

Nowhere Speaks sees Emptiness heap scorn over those who doubted them—this is all of Emptiness, and there’s nothing random about it. The album begins with this affirmation, picking up the riff that was cut-off midway from Nothing But the Whole’s closer “Lowland,” and carrying on (“Nothing But The Whole (Part 2)”). It ends with it too, final track “All For Nothing” lapsing into the malevolent soundscape of Nothing But The Whole’s first, “Go and Hope,” and stopping with similar abruptness—a synecdoche for the wider circularity that connects these two albums over a decade apart. This brings a weird closure to the former record, even as Nowhere Speaks’ ending perpetuates the unsettled and unsettling sempiternality. Emptiness’ self-referential horror doesn’t stop at album construction. In a direct mirror of predecessor Vide, which was recorded by each member in isolation and geographically distant, Nowhere Speaks was recorded live all at once in the studio. This reassembling works as a metaphor for this album’s sound, which reconstructs many of Emptiness’ elements in both familiar and unfamiliar ways.

Nowhere Speaks is the opposite of immediate; everything about it creeps. And it creeps inexorably, as certain as death. The dark melodies and restlessly stalking tempos (“Nowhere Speaks,” “Words to Wind,” “When the Whole Arrives”1) are only the half of it. Sometimes the music’s atmosphere incarnates as disso-death moodiness, (“Words to Wind,” “When the Whole Arrives”), sometimes as the blurriness of noisy atmo-black (“The Threat,” “One Must See All,” “All For Nothing”), sometimes as warped, static-scattered ambience (“Darkness Commands,” “Words to Wind,” “Next In Line”). Tremolos often feel almost warm (“Nowhere Speaks,” “All For Nothing”) until they aren’t (“Words to Wind”), and the stylistic incongruence between them and the electro-industrial edge that warps whispered growls creates an eerie tone throughout. The highest points are the culmination of these apparent inconsistencies, some new genre Emptiness have been crafting all this time—a pared-back blackened-death, dark ambient, groovy, and dissonant. It builds in the second act of “Words to Wind,” stalks with predatory grace at “When the Whole Arrives”‘s intro, and spreads insidiously in “Next In Line.” Emptiness pass through extreme metal and cloak elements in atmosphere, yet all this adds rather than subtracts tension and fearfulness.

These nuanced and unusual textures are intriguing, but they sometimes veer towards a mélange that’s too understated. Emptiness have absolutely nailed the vibe, and much of Nowhere Speaks does capitalise on the magical combination of pseudo-dissonant guitar, smothering dark ambience, and unusual compositional shapes. I can forgive the myriad interludes—some of which, particularly “Darkness Commands,” are excellent in their own right—which bleed in and out of the main songs. It’s the wavering vagaries in the midpoints and margins that threaten to fade too far into the background. The burying of instruments whilst nothing else drives a progression (“Nowhere Speaks,”); muffled voices and noise (“Words to Wind”), an immersion-breaking slide into the major (“Nowhere Speaks,” “The Clash of Forces,” “All for Nothing”). At least it sounds brilliant—all the layers distinguishable, the reverb a softness rather than an obstruction, the drums, vocals and guitars each having space to spook you.

Emptiness are evidently believers in the virtue of patience, answering the open question of Nothing But The Whole’s abrupt ending more than a decade after it was posed. Nowhere Speaks is no anomaly; give it time, and it spreads out like a great gulf of nothing.2 It may have taken many listens, but I’m now so immersed in the void of beautiful nothingness Emptiness have created, that it’s hard to remember I ever really had my doubts.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

🔥 NEW INTERVIEW: DAGGERS 🔥

"Daggers: Raw, uncompromising sonic catharsis." ⚡️

We sat down with the masters of Belgian Hardcore Metal to discuss the visceral power behind their sound. A deep dive into pure brutality and emotional release. 🇧🇪

Check out the full conversation now.

👉 Read here: https://roughtimes.net/interviews/daggers-channelling-pain-into-raw-sound-belgium-hardcore-metal-interview-with-thierry-thomas

#Daggers #HardcoreMetal #BelgianMetal #Catharsis #NewMusic #Interview #ExtremeMusic

@daggersband

🔥 NEW INTERVIEW: DAGGERS 🔥

"Daggers: Raw, uncompromising sonic catharsis." ⚡️

We sat down with the masters of Belgian Hardcore Metal to discuss the visceral power behind their sound. A deep dive into pure brutality and emotional release. 🇧🇪

Check out the full conversation now.

👉 Read here: https://roughtimes.net/interviews/daggers-channelling-pain-into-raw-sound-belgium-hardcore-metal-interview-with-thierry-thomas

#Daggers #HardcoreMetal #BelgianMetal #Catharsis #NewMusic #Interview #ExtremeMusic

@daggersband

It’s been some time since Splendidula has visited these pages. The fearsome Carcharodon reviewed their sophomore record, Post Mortem, as a wee n00b long ago in 2018, wherein he saw glimmers of potential in the gothic doom metal. He didn’t cover 2021’s Somnus for unknown reasons, though I think he might have been pleased with the heavier post-metal inclinations that permeated the record. The years since then have been rough for this Belgian group, marred by the passing of several loved ones, including their bassist Peter Chromiak. Absentia emerges in the wake of these tragedies as a means to both express and confront this debilitating heartache and loss.

Chromiak’s absence is felt in the very essence of Absentia. Although drummer Joachim Taminau took up the bassist role, the burly bass presence from the prior two records is all but gone. Splendidula kept much of their gothic doom but, fittingly, chose to fill the void with another of metal’s most expressive subgenres—DSBM. Whereas Kristien Cools previously stuck to clean vocals (for the most part), she now becomes both beauty and beast, dividing her time between sorrowful singing and shrieking. She also leans on a couple of notable guest vocalists. Tim Yatras (Austere) adds blackened snarls and backing cleans to “Absentia,” followed by Aaron Stainthorpe (ex-My Dying Bride, High Parasite), who contributes his rumbling growls and velvety baritone to “Echoes of Quiet Remain.” These guest selections neatly encapsulate the two different aspects of Absentia.

Absentia by Splendidula

While much music (and art in general) is born from a place of grief, Absentia is practically synonymous with it. Underneath the stoic exterior lurks a raw torment that flares up whenever and however it wants. For example, “Donkerte” begins with despondent singing, but as the verse progresses, Cools’s voice escalates until finally a primal scream spills out. Later, the double-tracked cleans and screams give the impression of one putting on a brave face as anguish roils inside. When her voice dips into the lower ranges (particularly in “Absentia” and “Let It Come to an End”), it takes on a sort of nasally drawl which augments the mournful atmosphere, though this likely won’t appeal to everyone. Also like grief, sections of certain songs tend to linger for longer than one might like (“Echoes of Quiet Remain,” “Kilte,” “Absentia”).

Absentia musically conveys the importance of a healthy support system during times of grief. Though much hinges on Cools’s vocal performances, the other two members of Splendidula help to sustain her in subtle but important ways. During “Dalkuldar,” a forlorn respite from the turmoil, the snare rhythms and bass drum beats are akin to a bolstering drumline. The tempestuous percussion also heightens the sense of desperation in “Kilte.” Closing track “Let It Come to an End” flips the script, letting Cools take a backseat and bringing guitarist Guy Van Campenhout’s growls to the forefront, perhaps emblematic of leaning on loved ones during times of crisis.

In terms of emotional devastation, Absentia is as potent a record as you’re likely to find. Kristien Cools keeps improving with each release, and the compositions complement her increasingly diverse vocal styles well. The deeply personal nature of Splendidula’s work of art is both strength and weakness. The intense and authentic expression of grief is harrowingly beautiful, but in a way that seems impossible for an outsider to fully appreciate. Like attending a funeral for someone you didn’t know, it’s easy to empathize with those in mourning but difficult to feel the same deep personal connection. That said, the next time grief comes for me personally, I may be very grateful that I became acquainted with Absentia.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: splendidula.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Splendidula
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

It’s been some time since Splendidula has visited these pages. The fearsome Carcharodon reviewed their sophomore record, Post Mortem, as a wee n00b long ago in 2018, wherein he saw glimmers of potential in the gothic doom metal. He didn’t cover 2021’s Somnus for unknown reasons, though I think he might have been pleased with the heavier post-metal inclinations that permeated the record. The years since then have been rough for this Belgian group, marred by the passing of several loved ones, including their bassist Peter Chromiak. Absentia emerges in the wake of these tragedies as a means to both express and confront this debilitating heartache and loss.

Chromiak’s absence is felt in the very essence of Absentia. Although drummer Joachim Taminau took up the bassist role, the burly bass presence from the prior two records is all but gone. Splendidula kept much of their gothic doom but, fittingly, chose to fill the void with another of metal’s most expressive subgenres—DSBM. Whereas Kristien Cools previously stuck to clean vocals (for the most part), she now becomes both beauty and beast, dividing her time between sorrowful singing and shrieking. She also leans on a couple of notable guest vocalists. Tim Yatras (Austere) adds blackened snarls and backing cleans to “Absentia,” followed by Aaron Stainthorpe (ex-My Dying Bride, High Parasite), who contributes his rumbling growls and velvety baritone to “Echoes of Quiet Remain.” These guest selections neatly encapsulate the two different aspects of Absentia.

Absentia by Splendidula

While much music (and art in general) is born from a place of grief, Absentia is practically synonymous with it. Underneath the stoic exterior lurks a raw torment that flares up whenever and however it wants. For example, “Donkerte” begins with despondent singing, but as the verse progresses, Cools’s voice escalates until finally a primal scream spills out. Later, the double-tracked cleans and screams give the impression of one putting on a brave face as anguish roils inside. When her voice dips into the lower ranges (particularly in “Absentia” and “Let It Come to an End”), it takes on a sort of nasally drawl which augments the mournful atmosphere, though this likely won’t appeal to everyone. Also like grief, sections of certain songs tend to linger for longer than one might like (“Echoes of Quiet Remain,” “Kilte,” “Absentia”).

Absentia musically conveys the importance of a healthy support system during times of grief. Though much hinges on Cools’s vocal performances, the other two members of Splendidula help to sustain her in subtle but important ways. During “Dalkuldar,” a forlorn respite from the turmoil, the snare rhythms and bass drum beats are akin to a bolstering drumline. The tempestuous percussion also heightens the sense of desperation in “Kilte.” Closing track “Let It Come to an End” flips the script, letting Cools take a backseat and bringing guitarist Guy Van Campenhout’s growls to the forefront, perhaps emblematic of leaning on loved ones during times of crisis.

In terms of emotional devastation, Absentia is as potent a record as you’re likely to find. Kristien Cools keeps improving with each release, and the compositions complement her increasingly diverse vocal styles well. The deeply personal nature of Splendidula’s work of art is both strength and weakness. The intense and authentic expression of grief is harrowingly beautiful, but in a way that seems impossible for an outsider to fully appreciate. Like attending a funeral for someone you didn’t know, it’s easy to empathize with those in mourning but difficult to feel the same deep personal connection. That said, the next time grief comes for me personally, I may be very grateful that I became acquainted with Absentia.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: splendidula.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Splendidula
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

Way back in the year before the Great Plague, I took a chance and reviewed an unheralded, self-released album by a one-man band from Belgium called Ethereal Darkness. We received the promo from the AMG contact forms without fanfare or fluff, but what I heard on Smoke and Shadows really impressed me. Project mastermind Lars created a monumental slab of melancholic, melodic doom in the vein of Insomnium, Rapture, and Before the Dawn, and the material had depth, power, and gravitas. It seemed like the work of a seasoned and polished group of musicians despite some rough edges. The years have drifted by since that review, and I’d all but given up Ethereal Darkness for dead. Imagine my surprise when Lars reached out recently to alert me to the pending release of his second album, Echoes. 6 years on, the solo project is now a full-fledged band ready to tour in support of their latest release. And what a large release it is! At 60 minutes, Echoes takes the style from the debut and goes way bigger, with much longer compositions and greater ambition in the writing. If that’s not big enough, it also features cover art from Adam Burke and a production from Dan “The Fücking Man” Swanö!1 Is bigger better in this case? Can more really be MOAR? And how are these guys still unsigned?? These are the questions of our time.

It takes ample ballsack to open with a nearly 11-minute song, but Ethereal Darkness do just that with “Gone With the Tide.” If the atmosphere on Smoke and Shadows impressed you, this will knock you into the next multiverse. It’s an epic, sweeping tableau of massive melodoom that holds nothing back as it transports you to majestic forests and towering mountains of snow and ice. It recalls the best works of Be’lakor and Black Sun Aeon, but there’s plenty of Insomnium in the DNA too. The guitarwork is phenomenal, full of sadboi trilling and doomy weight. The death vocals by Lars are very effective, the clean singing by acoustic guitarist Brecht hits the right way, and the lapses into blastbeating blackness are well-timed adrenaline spikes. This is a stupendous song and one of the best so far this year, and it goes by in a flash despite its girth. “The Cycle” continues to maintain the sky-high quality. It’s like a crazy mash-up of Eneferens and modern Amorphis, and you should pay big money for such a potent potable. It’s the kind of song you get lost in and lose track of time, and when you write songs in the 8-10 minute window, this is essential.

Elsewhere, “Winter” moves toward more blackened environs, channeling Saor and Nechochwen as epic soundscapes are raised and explored. The guitars here are beautifully rendered, and it’s another triumph for this unheralded project. Equally monolithic is “On the Edge of the Cliff,” where the music turns more aggressive and urgent, merging black and melodeath idioms adroitly for maximum impact. There’s an epic Viking metal energy here that makes you want to conquer and rule the weak, and it feels dangerously powerful. Despite so much magnificent opulence and aural decadence, there are some weaker moments. “IV” is very, very good and hints at my beloved Rapture, but it ends up feeling too long at 9:45, and trimming it by a few minutes would have helped. Ginormous closer “Realization” runs over 13 minutes, and despite good to great moments throughout, it’s undone by its sheer width and breadth. In its final minutes, I find it increasingly difficult to stay locked in and attentive. At just over 60 minutes, Echoes can be a daunting listen due to its density and length, but the reward is well worth the effort. I can’t find fault with the Swanö-ified production, as everything sounds lush, gorgeous, and heavy without being loud or oppressive.

Lars handles guitar, bass, keyboards, and harsh vocals, and to say he did an amazing job across the board doesn’t begin to cover it. There are some big, emotional moments here courtesy of his 6-string heroics, referencing the works of Tuomas Saukkonen without imitating. His deep death roars punctuate the music with force, and his blackened cackles and screams pierce through like lasers. His restrained use of keyboards should be a case study for other acts in the genre. They add atmosphere but rarely rise out of the distant background. Becht provides soothing acoustic guitar passages and clean vocals that deliver pathos and emotion. Peter’s drumming is a vast improvement over the programmed percussion from the debut, imbuing the material with vibrancy and weight. Applause all around for this crew!

Echoes is a bigger, better album than Smoke and Shadows in every way, with several tracks worthy of Song o’ the Year consideration. The album length and the bloat on a few tracks hold it back from even greater heights, but just barely. This is a sumptuous feast for the ears and mind, and I get the feeling I’ll be spending a lot of time with this over the next few months. Ethereal Darkness are about to get a lot more attention in the metalverse, and they deserve it. Hear this massive monster or be a lesser mortal. Somebody better sign these guys toot-sweet!



Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Release
Websites: etherealdarkness.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/etherealplace | instagram.com/etherealdarknessband
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

Way back in the year before the Great Plague, I took a chance and reviewed an unheralded, self-released album by a one-man band from Belgium called Ethereal Darkness. We received the promo from the AMG contact forms without fanfare or fluff, but what I heard on Smoke and Shadows really impressed me. Project mastermind Lars created a monumental slab of melancholic, melodic doom in the vein of Insomnium, Rapture, and Before the Dawn, and the material had depth, power, and gravitas. It seemed like the work of a seasoned and polished group of musicians despite some rough edges. The years have drifted by since that review, and I’d all but given up Ethereal Darkness for dead. Imagine my surprise when Lars reached out recently to alert me to the pending release of his second album, Echoes. 6 years on, the solo project is now a full-fledged band ready to tour in support of their latest release. And what a large release it is! At 60 minutes, Echoes takes the style from the debut and goes way bigger, with much longer compositions and greater ambition in the writing. If that’s not big enough, it also features cover art from Adam Burke and a production from Dan “The Fücking Man” Swanö!1 Is bigger better in this case? Can more really be MOAR? And how are these guys still unsigned?? These are the questions of our time.

It takes ample ballsack to open with a nearly 11-minute song, but Ethereal Darkness do just that with “Gone With the Tide.” If the atmosphere on Smoke and Shadows impressed you, this will knock you into the next multiverse. It’s an epic, sweeping tableau of massive melodoom that holds nothing back as it transports you to majestic forests and towering mountains of snow and ice. It recalls the best works of Be’lakor and Black Sun Aeon, but there’s plenty of Insomnium in the DNA too. The guitarwork is phenomenal, full of sadboi trilling and doomy weight. The death vocals by Lars are very effective, the clean singing by acoustic guitarist Brecht hits the right way, and the lapses into blastbeating blackness are well-timed adrenaline spikes. This is a stupendous song and one of the best so far this year, and it goes by in a flash despite its girth. “The Cycle” continues to maintain the sky-high quality. It’s like a crazy mash-up of Eneferens and modern Amorphis, and you should pay big money for such a potent potable. It’s the kind of song you get lost in and lose track of time, and when you write songs in the 8-10 minute window, this is essential.

Elsewhere, “Winter” moves toward more blackened environs, channeling Saor and Nechochwen as epic soundscapes are raised and explored. The guitars here are beautifully rendered, and it’s another triumph for this unheralded project. Equally monolithic is “On the Edge of the Cliff,” where the music turns more aggressive and urgent, merging black and melodeath idioms adroitly for maximum impact. There’s an epic Viking metal energy here that makes you want to conquer and rule the weak, and it feels dangerously powerful. Despite so much magnificent opulence and aural decadence, there are some weaker moments. “IV” is very, very good and hints at my beloved Rapture, but it ends up feeling too long at 9:45, and trimming it by a few minutes would have helped. Ginormous closer “Realization” runs over 13 minutes, and despite good to great moments throughout, it’s undone by its sheer width and breadth. In its final minutes, I find it increasingly difficult to stay locked in and attentive. At just over 60 minutes, Echoes can be a daunting listen due to its density and length, but the reward is well worth the effort. I can’t find fault with the Swanö-ified production, as everything sounds lush, gorgeous, and heavy without being loud or oppressive.

Lars handles guitar, bass, keyboards, and harsh vocals, and to say he did an amazing job across the board doesn’t begin to cover it. There are some big, emotional moments here courtesy of his 6-string heroics, referencing the works of Tuomas Saukkonen without imitating. His deep death roars punctuate the music with force, and his blackened cackles and screams pierce through like lasers. His restrained use of keyboards should be a case study for other acts in the genre. They add atmosphere but rarely rise out of the distant background. Becht provides soothing acoustic guitar passages and clean vocals that deliver pathos and emotion. Peter’s drumming is a vast improvement over the programmed percussion from the debut, imbuing the material with vibrancy and weight. Applause all around for this crew!

Echoes is a bigger, better album than Smoke and Shadows in every way, with several tracks worthy of Song o’ the Year consideration. The album length and the bloat on a few tracks hold it back from even greater heights, but just barely. This is a sumptuous feast for the ears and mind, and I get the feeling I’ll be spending a lot of time with this over the next few months. Ethereal Darkness are about to get a lot more attention in the metalverse, and they deserve it. Hear this massive monster or be a lesser mortal. Somebody better sign these guys toot-sweet!



Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Release
Websites: etherealdarkness.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/etherealplace | instagram.com/etherealdarknessband
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

Erbeet Azhak – Only the Vile Will Remain Review

I’ll take “Global Notables” for $600, please, Ken—The clue: Country famous for its waffles, chocolate, beer, and castles.…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #3.0 #AmorFatiProductions #Aosoth #BelgianMetal #BlackMetal #BlutAusNord #Darkthrone #Entertainment #ErbeetAzhak #Mar26 #OnlytheVileWillRemain #review #Sargeist
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/503697/

I’ll take “Global Notables” for $600, please, Ken—The clue: Country famous for its waffles, chocolate, beer, and castles. The answer—What is Belgium?! Correct! Belgium is also home to some pretty decent black metal bands—Lugubrum, Enthroned, and Wiegedood, to name a few. Here to add another branch to that blackened Belgian family tree is Erbeet Azhak, the side project of one pretty busy Corvus von Burtle—C.V.B.(Cult of Erinyes, Wolvennest, LVTHN, Aerdryk). Erbeet Azhak’s debut album, Only the Vile Will Remain, helmed by his Cult of Erinyes bandmate and all-around metal maestro Déhà at Blackout Studio, promises to stand “as a manifesto in which hatred and chaos coexist under the dominion of a faceless yet resolute entity.” Let’s plant the dark seed of Erbeet Azhak’s Only the Vile Will Remain together and see what slithering roots sprout from within.

Erbeet Azhak’s black metal is desolate and chaotic, but doesn’t stray far from trails travelled by C.V.B.’s other projects. Still, it finds him further flexing his vocal muscles, which are a mix of everyman blackened rasps alongside tonal shouts and growls that sound a lot like F.O.A.D.-era Nocturno Culto. Even as Erbeet Azhak brings C.V.B.’s own guitar and bass talents to bear, guest musicians S. Iblis’s (Possession) lead guitar, Onbra Oscoura’s (Abyssal Vacuum) bass, and Laye’s (Putrid Offal) drumming flesh out a sound palette that explores several black metal styles. Sargeist lurks in the riffs of galloping melodicism present on “The Wings of Liberation,” just as Blut Aus Nord fans can belly up to a bar stocked with blasting beats and decaying dissonance (“Lecherous Angels,” “Death to the Self”).1 Further examination finds traces of Aosoth in the near blackened war metal of “Only the Vile Will Remain,” while devotees of doomier plods ala late-era Darkthrone should find comfort in the folds of “Erbeet Azhak.” Despite what seems such a mixed bag, Only the Vile Will Remain encases its twists and turns in a production that provides sonic consistency.

Raw but nuanced, Erbeet Azhak packs as many interesting details into Only the Vile Will Remain as Luciana Nedelea did her excellent cover art. I particularly enjoyed the engaging guitar leads that creep amongst the riffs and blast beats of “The Weakness of Our Cycle” as much as I did the intriguing riff patterns and spacy, atmospheric interlude that hijacks “The Inner Circle” around the 2:45 mark, segueing into a really nice melodic guitar solo. Iblis’s performance warrants particular note, as he peppers the whole of Only the Vile Will Remain with lots of satisfying, melodically intricate solo work not present on most black metal of this ilk (“The Wings of Liberation,” “Death to Self”). C.V.B.’s performance on the mic also deserves a nod. While he’s never contributed in this way on any of the other projects he’s involved with, save Aerdryk, his vocals fit what Erbeet Azhak does well and add a layer of gravelly, gothic tension and menace. The vocal cherry on top, however, belongs to Zd from LVTHN, whose inhuman screeches absolutely haunt the back-end passages of “Lecherous Angels.”

While Only the Vile Will Remain isn’t a sprawling, over-bloated behemoth by any means, it could benefit from a little nip and tuck. Erbeet Azkhak traverses the many planes of its black metal existence with relative ease and is most compelling when song lengths provide enough room for all the transitions to develop. Evident even on the albums second shortest song, “The Wings of Liberation,” which transitions from a galloping mid-pace to a blast-furnace passage before moving on toward a guitar solo flowing with melodicism and then back again, all within the span of 4:06. Ironically, this leaves the 3:46’s of the title track stuck in my craw as the album’s most boring; its straight-forward, blast-beat-overloaded war-metal approach sticking out sorely amidst the much more atmospheric fare on display. Cutting this and the mostly superfluous intro would have left Only the Vile Will Remain a more lethal beast.

Erbeet Azhak hasn’t revolutionized the landscape of black metal, neither in Belgium nor in the broader, raw-as-misanthropic scene in which Only the Vile Will Remain operates. Those intrigued by the name drops above should find something of value here. I know I got more than I was expecting. For now, I’d say there’s a fresh sprout on the Belgian black metal family tree with Erbeet Azhak’s name on it; whether that grows into a sturdy branch or not, only time will tell.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Amor Fati Productions
Websites: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 20262

I’ll take “Global Notables” for $600, please, Ken—The clue: Country famous for its waffles, chocolate, beer, and castles. The answer—What is Belgium?! Correct! Belgium is also home to some pretty decent black metal bands—Lugubrum, Enthroned, and Wiegedood, to name a few. Here to add another branch to that blackened Belgian family tree is Erbeet Azhak, the side project of one pretty busy Corvus von Burtle—C.V.B.(Cult of Erinyes, Wolvennest, LVTHN, Aerdryk). Erbeet Azhak’s debut album, Only the Vile Will Remain, helmed by his Cult of Erinyes bandmate and all-around metal maestro Déhà at Blackout Studio, promises to stand “as a manifesto in which hatred and chaos coexist under the dominion of a faceless yet resolute entity.” Let’s plant the dark seed of Erbeet Azhak’s Only the Vile Will Remain together and see what slithering roots sprout from within.

Erbeet Azhak’s black metal is desolate and chaotic, but doesn’t stray far from trails travelled by C.V.B.’s other projects. Still, it finds him further flexing his vocal muscles, which are a mix of everyman blackened rasps alongside tonal shouts and growls that sound a lot like F.O.A.D.-era Nocturno Culto. Even as Erbeet Azhak brings C.V.B.’s own guitar and bass talents to bear, guest musicians S. Iblis’s (Possession) lead guitar, Onbra Oscoura’s (Abyssal Vacuum) bass, and Laye’s (Putrid Offal) drumming flesh out a sound palette that explores several black metal styles. Sargeist lurks in the riffs of galloping melodicism present on “The Wings of Liberation,” just as Blut Aus Nord fans can belly up to a bar stocked with blasting beats and decaying dissonance (“Lecherous Angels,” “Death to the Self”).1 Further examination finds traces of Aosoth in the near blackened war metal of “Only the Vile Will Remain,” while devotees of doomier plods ala late-era Darkthrone should find comfort in the folds of “Erbeet Azhak.” Despite what seems such a mixed bag, Only the Vile Will Remain encases its twists and turns in a production that provides sonic consistency.

Raw but nuanced, Erbeet Azhak packs as many interesting details into Only the Vile Will Remain as Luciana Nedelea did her excellent cover art. I particularly enjoyed the engaging guitar leads that creep amongst the riffs and blast beats of “The Weakness of Our Cycle” as much as I did the intriguing riff patterns and spacy, atmospheric interlude that hijacks “The Inner Circle” around the 2:45 mark, segueing into a really nice melodic guitar solo. Iblis’s performance warrants particular note, as he peppers the whole of Only the Vile Will Remain with lots of satisfying, melodically intricate solo work not present on most black metal of this ilk (“The Wings of Liberation,” “Death to Self”). C.V.B.’s performance on the mic also deserves a nod. While he’s never contributed in this way on any of the other projects he’s involved with, save Aerdryk, his vocals fit what Erbeet Azhak does well and add a layer of gravelly, gothic tension and menace. The vocal cherry on top, however, belongs to Zd from LVTHN, whose inhuman screeches absolutely haunt the back-end passages of “Lecherous Angels.”

While Only the Vile Will Remain isn’t a sprawling, over-bloated behemoth by any means, it could benefit from a little nip and tuck. Erbeet Azkhak traverses the many planes of its black metal existence with relative ease and is most compelling when song lengths provide enough room for all the transitions to develop. Evident even on the albums second shortest song, “The Wings of Liberation,” which transitions from a galloping mid-pace to a blast-furnace passage before moving on toward a guitar solo flowing with melodicism and then back again, all within the span of 4:06. Ironically, this leaves the 3:46’s of the title track stuck in my craw as the album’s most boring; its straight-forward, blast-beat-overloaded war-metal approach sticking out sorely amidst the much more atmospheric fare on display. Cutting this and the mostly superfluous intro would have left Only the Vile Will Remain a more lethal beast.

Erbeet Azhak hasn’t revolutionized the landscape of black metal, neither in Belgium nor in the broader, raw-as-misanthropic scene in which Only the Vile Will Remain operates. Those intrigued by the name drops above should find something of value here. I know I got more than I was expecting. For now, I’d say there’s a fresh sprout on the Belgian black metal family tree with Erbeet Azhak’s name on it; whether that grows into a sturdy branch or not, only time will tell.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Amor Fati Productions
Websites: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 20262

In case you’re unfamiliar, The Epic of Gilgamesh is an ancient Mesopotamian poetic narrative, whose first complete form is dated to approximately 1800 BCE. It follows a story of King Gilgamesh and his dealings with gods and other mythic monsters, culminating in a journey for the secret of immortality.1 What better way could there be to consume this rich, literary epic than have it interpreted by the collection of artists behind From the Waters of Death? Obscure black/doom duo Swords of Dis; death metal veteran and experimenter Serpent Ascending; Neptunian Maximalism’s darker, heavier incarnation Ôros Kaù; and ambient-black dreamer Midnight Odyssey. All are infamous—if you know who they are—for their strange, unconventional styles and love for long-form expression that borders on the self-indulgent, which may make them ideally suited to a Gilgamesh retelling. You may already be experiencing a sinking feeling of dread at those name-drops. But together these artists achieve something that exceeded my expectations even as it met them squarely.

While appearing to be a split, Waters is more of a collaboration as each individual contributes vocal or instrumental talents across multiple songs, including on those they wrote and take the lead in themselves. Spearheading the whole thing are Richard and Alice Corvinus of Swords of Dis, who have a hand in all lyrics and appear on every track. These lyrics, inspired by the words of the epic itself, consist of narration interspersed with dialogue between the various characters, and the five musicians rotate and share roles depending on who is involved in the corresponding part of the story. 2 This improves the album’s internal coherence—which might otherwise be hindered in a split format—whilst also allowing each movement to take on the personality of its lead artist. As a form of adaptation, the five tracks of reverb-filled, noisy, strange, melodramatically or demoniacally vocally-led, black-adjacent fringe metal lean into the grand, frightening side to the tale whose gravity us modern-age folk probably can’t appreciate properly. And it’s that excessive, almost absurd commitment to being different, which—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—actually works.

From The Waters Of Death by SWORDS OF DIS

Drama is at the heart of oral poetic tradition, and it’s Waters’ drama that similarly grounds its best aspects. Utmost credit goes to Alice Corvinus and her fierce (“From Egalmah They Rode…”3, operatic (“Araru Births the Lord of the Wilderness,” “From Egalmah…,” “Blood Stains The Altar…”4), sometimes eerie (“Into the Wailing Darkness”5) vocal performance. Her presence dominates as she provides some narration in addition to voicing every female character (and there are a lot of goddesses involved). Dark, minor tremolo refrains and Middle-Eastern-inspired melodies support her delivery, and the theatrical, flowing style Swords of Dis employ lends itself to this expression perfectly. In a different vein, the inhumanly gurgling snarls of Guillaume Cazalet (Ôros Kaù) make for a barbed contrast to otherwise vague, even beautiful, passages (“Blood…”), and can be genuinely frightening (“Into The Wailing Darkness”). All vocals—clean or harsh—are odd to a degree, sometimes even off-putting (“Araru…”). Yet most breaches of the cringe line are brief, and ameliorated by interesting instrumentation (“Blood…,” “From the Setting…”6). Those totally averse to what we anaemically refer to as ‘avant-garde’ in extreme metal can beg to differ, but the back and forth between dissonance and harmony (“Araru…,” “Blood…”), and between uncomfortable slowness and sudden speed (“From the Setting…”), is not only well-performed, it makes sense for the record’s narrative concept. A journey represented through a monotonous pattern (“From Egalmah…,” “From the Setting…”), the fury of a deity by means of an operatic surge (“From Egalmah…”).

Waters embodies the manner of epic poetry so well, however, that its digestibility is harmed as well as helped. Whether appropriate or not, its near-90-minute runtime makes engaging with its entirety a daunting prospect, and this is a record that fares best when you do give it the time and space to immerse you.7 The very aptness of the compositional style—long repetitive sections on the one hand, and frequent switches between tempo, melody, and vocalist on the other—which mimics recitation amongst orators, can prove taxing. It creates a dynamic of brilliant moments and stand-out performances, scattered unevenly inside overextended filling. It’s perhaps not a coincidence that the album’s midsection—the two tracks led by masterminds Swords of Dis—is by far the best and most even in quality, whereas its final act—Midnight Odyssey’s—is the least engaging and unable to support its length.8

Though Waters cannot escape the idiosyncrasies of the artists behind it—and so inherently restricts its audience—as an expression of this epic poem, these approaches to black metal are surprisingly apt. If you have the time to go on this adventure with Serpent Ascending, Ôros Kaù, Swords of Dis, and Midnight Odyssey, there’s plenty to enjoy. But if nothing else, let it be an excuse to learn about the original myth that inspires such weird, sometimes wonderful music.

Rating: Good(!)
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger
Websites: Album BC | Serpent Ascending BC | Serpent Ascending FB | Ôros Kaù BC | Ôros Kaù FB | Swords of Dis BC | Swords of Dis FB | Midnight Odyssey BC | Midnight Odyssey FB
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

In case you’re unfamiliar, The Epic of Gilgamesh is an ancient Mesopotamian poetic narrative, whose first complete form is dated to approximately 1800 BCE. It follows a story of King Gilgamesh and his dealings with gods and other mythic monsters, culminating in a journey for the secret of immortality.1 What better way could there be to consume this rich, literary epic than have it interpreted by the collection of artists behind From the Waters of Death? Obscure black/doom duo Swords of Dis; death metal veteran and experimenter Serpent Ascending; Neptunian Maximalism’s darker, heavier incarnation Ôros Kaù; and ambient-black dreamer Midnight Odyssey. All are infamous—if you know who they are—for their strange, unconventional styles and love for long-form expression that borders on the self-indulgent, which may make them ideally suited to a Gilgamesh retelling. You may already be experiencing a sinking feeling of dread at those name-drops. But together these artists achieve something that exceeded my expectations even as it met them squarely.

While appearing to be a split, Waters is more of a collaboration as each individual contributes vocal or instrumental talents across multiple songs, including on those they wrote and take the lead in themselves. Spearheading the whole thing are Richard and Alice Corvinus of Swords of Dis, who have a hand in all lyrics and appear on every track. These lyrics, inspired by the words of the epic itself, consist of narration interspersed with dialogue between the various characters, and the five musicians rotate and share roles depending on who is involved in the corresponding part of the story. 2 This improves the album’s internal coherence—which might otherwise be hindered in a split format—whilst also allowing each movement to take on the personality of its lead artist. As a form of adaptation, the five tracks of reverb-filled, noisy, strange, melodramatically or demoniacally vocally-led, black-adjacent fringe metal lean into the grand, frightening side to the tale whose gravity us modern-age folk probably can’t appreciate properly. And it’s that excessive, almost absurd commitment to being different, which—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—actually works.

From The Waters Of Death by SWORDS OF DIS

Drama is at the heart of oral poetic tradition, and it’s Waters’ drama that similarly grounds its best aspects. Utmost credit goes to Alice Corvinus and her fierce (“From Egalmah They Rode…”3, operatic (“Araru Births the Lord of the Wilderness,” “From Egalmah…,” “Blood Stains The Altar…”4), sometimes eerie (“Into the Wailing Darkness”5) vocal performance. Her presence dominates as she provides some narration in addition to voicing every female character (and there are a lot of goddesses involved). Dark, minor tremolo refrains and Middle-Eastern-inspired melodies support her delivery, and the theatrical, flowing style Swords of Dis employ lends itself to this expression perfectly. In a different vein, the inhumanly gurgling snarls of Guillaume Cazalet (Ôros Kaù) make for a barbed contrast to otherwise vague, even beautiful, passages (“Blood…”), and can be genuinely frightening (“Into The Wailing Darkness”). All vocals—clean or harsh—are odd to a degree, sometimes even off-putting (“Araru…”). Yet most breaches of the cringe line are brief, and ameliorated by interesting instrumentation (“Blood…,” “From the Setting…”6). Those totally averse to what we anaemically refer to as ‘avant-garde’ in extreme metal can beg to differ, but the back and forth between dissonance and harmony (“Araru…,” “Blood…”), and between uncomfortable slowness and sudden speed (“From the Setting…”), is not only well-performed, it makes sense for the record’s narrative concept. A journey represented through a monotonous pattern (“From Egalmah…,” “From the Setting…”), the fury of a deity by means of an operatic surge (“From Egalmah…”).

Waters embodies the manner of epic poetry so well, however, that its digestibility is harmed as well as helped. Whether appropriate or not, its near-90-minute runtime makes engaging with its entirety a daunting prospect, and this is a record that fares best when you do give it the time and space to immerse you.7 The very aptness of the compositional style—long repetitive sections on the one hand, and frequent switches between tempo, melody, and vocalist on the other—which mimics recitation amongst orators, can prove taxing. It creates a dynamic of brilliant moments and stand-out performances, scattered unevenly inside overextended filling. It’s perhaps not a coincidence that the album’s midsection—the two tracks led by masterminds Swords of Dis—is by far the best and most even in quality, whereas its final act—Midnight Odyssey’s—is the least engaging and unable to support its length.8

Though Waters cannot escape the idiosyncrasies of the artists behind it—and so inherently restricts its audience—as an expression of this epic poem, these approaches to black metal are surprisingly apt. If you have the time to go on this adventure with Serpent Ascending, Ôros Kaù, Swords of Dis, and Midnight Odyssey, there’s plenty to enjoy. But if nothing else, let it be an excuse to learn about the original myth that inspires such weird, sometimes wonderful music.

Rating: Good(!)
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger
Websites: Album BC | Serpent Ascending BC | Serpent Ascending FB | Ôros Kaù BC | Ôros Kaù FB | Swords of Dis BC | Swords of Dis FB | Midnight Odyssey BC | Midnight Odyssey FB
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

Psychonaut – World Maker Review

By Kenstrosity

Over the course of the last five years and change, my estimation of Belgian three-piece Psychonaut has only increased. Where I unfortunately missed out on Violate Consensus Reality for review duties, I didn’t let it slip outside of my listening rotation—certainly not after such an impressive debut, Unfold the God Man. I underrated that outing, citing bloat as the main drawback. Little did I consider that Psychonaut’s music often needs much more time than we’re given as our standard reviewing window to fully bloom. The psychedelic proggy post-metal purveyors boast a thoughtful and deeply layered songwriting approach that can’t be captured by a casual spin or three. Hence why I asked for World Maker, the trio’s third opus, early.

This proved to be a wise choice, as World Maker once again showcases the kind of writing that expands with a seemingly infinite upper limit over the course of time and attention. Less immediate than Violate Consensus Reality and less intimidating than Unfold the God Man, World Maker plucks the ripest fruit from each endeavor to formulate a rich and tantalizing concoction worthy of peddling alongside household names like The Ocean, Pink Floyd, and even Tool. World Maker is in some ways more intense (“Endless Currents”), and in others more relaxed (“…Everything Else is Just the Weather”), and all-around more psychedelic than what I’ve heard from Psychonaut before. Yet, it wholly retains Psychonaut’s uncanny knack for organic, almost primal rhythms, fluid transitions, and captivating phrases that achieves comparable success with or without vocals (“Origins”).

What sets World Maker apart from either of its predecessors is refinement in songwriting. Their base formula remains intact, but the methods with which Psychonaut compose and perform these latest arrangements ooze sophistication and finesse. Epic tracks like “And You Came with Searing Light” and “Stargazer,” in particular, showcase some of Psychonaut’s strongest and most satisfying writing to date. Exploring a wide gamut of textures, tones and tempos, these long-form journeys balance the power of the riff utilized on “You Are the Sky…” and “Endless Erosion” with the introspective post-metal lightness illuminated on “…Everything Else is Just the Weather” and “All in Time.” Generous and varied application of this strategy album-wide affords Psychonaut’s impeccably detailed compositions ample room for natural transformations between the monstrous and the gentle. This, in turn, allows World Maker to feel alive, to grow and evolve with every passing minute, and each subsequent spin.

As such, World Maker takes time and commitment to fully appreciate. It moves with such grace that its hour-long 1 runtime shrinks dramatically before me; that much became evident almost immediately. At the same time, it’s a dense and complex work that unfolds across multiple dimensions more rapidly than any one explorer can keep step. Perhaps this is a reflection of the circumstances surrounding its creation. With guitarist/vocalist Stefan de Graef’s entry into new fatherhood to devastating news of his father’s and bassist/vocalist Thomas Michiels’ father’s advanced cancer diagnoses, a newfound focus on the here and now illuminates the emotional shades that help define and color World Maker’s deeply affecting compositions. Trading off bright glimmers of hope with the looming shadow of grief, and simultaneously carrying the weight of everything that falls between, informs every moment of World Maker. This makes it a much more personal record than its predecessors. Moreover, Psychonaut curated an inviting, vulnerable space so that I might join in their joys and their sorrows through this work, creating a special kind of intimacy that is a privilege to share.

Even for those who lack the context in their own lives yet to fully identify with the stories and messages explored here, World Maker will likely have a substantial impact. It is a record that demands not just your full attention, but also your recurring presence. A single spin, or even three, is wholly insufficient to chart in totality what Psychonaut attempts to communicate here. These are songs meant to somehow, in some way, encapsulate the breadth of life and all of the lessons it teaches, the pains it inflicts, and the exhilaration it inspires. In my opinion, Psychonaut achieved a difficult, delicate balance within that astounding spectrum. All you need to see it for yourself is an open heart and a little time.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Pelagic Records
Websites: psychonautband.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/psychonautband
Releases Worldwide: October 24th, 2025

#2025 #40 #BelgianMetal #Oct25 #PelagicRecords #PinkFloyd #PostMetal #ProgressiveMetal #PsychedelicMetal #Psychonaut #Review #Reviews #TheOcean #Tool #WorldMaker

Psychonaut – World Maker Review

By Kenstrosity

Over the course of the last five years and change, my estimation of Belgian three-piece Psychonaut has only increased. Where I unfortunately missed out on Violate Consensus Reality for review duties, I didn’t let it slip outside of my listening rotation—certainly not after such an impressive debut, Unfold the God Man. I underrated that outing, citing bloat as the main drawback. Little did I consider that Psychonaut’s music often needs much more time than we’re given as our standard reviewing window to fully bloom. The psychedelic proggy post-metal purveyors boast a thoughtful and deeply layered songwriting approach that can’t be captured by a casual spin or three. Hence why I asked for World Maker, the trio’s third opus, early.

This proved to be a wise choice, as World Maker once again showcases the kind of writing that expands with a seemingly infinite upper limit over the course of time and attention. Less immediate than Violate Consensus Reality and less intimidating than Unfold the God Man, World Maker plucks the ripest fruit from each endeavor to formulate a rich and tantalizing concoction worthy of peddling alongside household names like The Ocean, Pink Floyd, and even Tool. World Maker is in some ways more intense (“Endless Currents”), and in others more relaxed (“…Everything Else is Just the Weather”), and all-around more psychedelic than what I’ve heard from Psychonaut before. Yet, it wholly retains Psychonaut’s uncanny knack for organic, almost primal rhythms, fluid transitions, and captivating phrases that achieves comparable success with or without vocals (“Origins”).

What sets World Maker apart from either of its predecessors is refinement in songwriting. Their base formula remains intact, but the methods with which Psychonaut compose and perform these latest arrangements ooze sophistication and finesse. Epic tracks like “And You Came with Searing Light” and “Stargazer,” in particular, showcase some of Psychonaut’s strongest and most satisfying writing to date. Exploring a wide gamut of textures, tones and tempos, these long-form journeys balance the power of the riff utilized on “You Are the Sky…” and “Endless Erosion” with the introspective post-metal lightness illuminated on “…Everything Else is Just the Weather” and “All in Time.” Generous and varied application of this strategy album-wide affords Psychonaut’s impeccably detailed compositions ample room for natural transformations between the monstrous and the gentle. This, in turn, allows World Maker to feel alive, to grow and evolve with every passing minute, and each subsequent spin.

As such, World Maker takes time and commitment to fully appreciate. It moves with such grace that its hour-long 1 runtime shrinks dramatically before me; that much became evident almost immediately. At the same time, it’s a dense and complex work that unfolds across multiple dimensions more rapidly than any one explorer can keep step. Perhaps this is a reflection of the circumstances surrounding its creation. With guitarist/vocalist Stefan de Graef’s entry into new fatherhood to devastating news of his father’s and bassist/vocalist Thomas Michiels’ father’s advanced cancer diagnoses, a newfound focus on the here and now illuminates the emotional shades that help define and color World Maker’s deeply affecting compositions. Trading off bright glimmers of hope with the looming shadow of grief, and simultaneously carrying the weight of everything that falls between, informs every moment of World Maker. This makes it a much more personal record than its predecessors. Moreover, Psychonaut curated an inviting, vulnerable space so that I might join in their joys and their sorrows through this work, creating a special kind of intimacy that is a privilege to share.

Even for those who lack the context in their own lives yet to fully identify with the stories and messages explored here, World Maker will likely have a substantial impact. It is a record that demands not just your full attention, but also your recurring presence. A single spin, or even three, is wholly insufficient to chart in totality what Psychonaut attempts to communicate here. These are songs meant to somehow, in some way, encapsulate the breadth of life and all of the lessons it teaches, the pains it inflicts, and the exhilaration it inspires. In my opinion, Psychonaut achieved a difficult, delicate balance within that astounding spectrum. All you need to see it for yourself is an open heart and a little time.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Pelagic Records
Websites: psychonautband.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/psychonautband
Releases Worldwide: October 24th, 2025

#2025 #40 #BelgianMetal #Oct25 #PelagicRecords #PinkFloyd #PostMetal #ProgressiveMetal #PsychedelicMetal #Psychonaut #Review #Reviews #TheOcean #Tool #WorldMaker

This week's #ThursDeath is a recent find I've been listening a lot to this week, Belgium's DISCARNATION have re-released their 2023 demo as 'Mournful Incantations of Mortality'. This is a fantastic piece of gloomy, death-doom that's super growly and cavernous, just how I like it-- much like this year's Cave, Ovenhead or Annihilation Cult. Definitely one to try out, for fans of the death-doom - great dynamics and everything else. It hooks you and draws you in.

https://morbidchapelrecords.bandcamp.com/album/mournful-incantations-of-mortality

#metal #DeathMetal #BelgianMetal #BelgianBands #Discarnation #doom #DoomMetal #DeathDoom @HailsandAles @rtw @wendigo @Kitty @umrk @lola @flockofnazguls

This week's #ThursDeath is a recent find I've been listening a lot to this week, Belgium's DISCARNATION have re-released their 2023 demo as 'Mournful Incantations of Mortality'. This is a fantastic piece of gloomy, death-doom that's super growly and cavernous, just how I like it-- much like this year's Cave, Ovenhead or Annihilation Cult. Definitely one to try out, for fans of the death-doom - great dynamics and everything else. It hooks you and draws you in.

https://morbidchapelrecords.bandcamp.com/album/mournful-incantations-of-mortality

#metal #DeathMetal #BelgianMetal #BelgianBands #Discarnation #doom #DoomMetal #DeathDoom @HailsandAles @rtw @wendigo @Kitty @umrk @lola @flockofnazguls

Brutal Sphincter – Sphinct-Earth Society Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

DEAR DOLPHY:

The world seems to grow more hostile by the minute, so I feel like I need to be more “on guard” with the media around me. So, I’ve been seeing this guy for a while now. He was going to therapy pretty regularly with a Dr. Moshe Pitt as part of maintaining a healthy outlook on life—or so he told me. But when I was at his place the other day, I saw this little booklet on his nightstand called Spinct-Earth Society. I did a little research on it, and it turns out that it’s a self-help book by some organization from Belgium called Brutal Sphincter. I confronted him about it, and he confessed in full to using only this manual—not a therapist! But he seems happier than ever, and things are going great? Should I be worried? Can Brutal Sphincter be trusted? — CLENCHED BUT CURIOUS.

DEAR CLENCHED BUT CURIOUS:

I think it’s natural to distrust Brutal Sphincter as an organization. You see, the crowd they hang out in—squealy scuzzmeisters like Gutalax, Rectal Smegma, and Torsofuck—doesn’t inspire much in the way of integrity and honesty. But Sphinct-Earth Society holds a mission a little separate from the extreme scatalogical nature of Shit Happens! (Gutalax, 2016) or the drunken party manifesto of To Serve and Protect (Rectal Smegma, 2025). As the world continues to turn and burn in its humanistic down-spiral, Brutal Sphincter calls for the absurd.

Yet, despite the gateway to sanity seeming closed—closed as your instincts, CLENCHED BUT CURIOUS, let them free!—an earnest base of death metal, saliva-bound like a pliable, welcome bolus, travels from mouth to gut-ears by an unstoppable groove. Brutal Sphincter puts in a touch more effort than your average meme-loaded goregrind act, using important topics like tough guy smearing of “Beatdown Syndrome” and border patrol bashing of “Abolish Frontex” to pull away, with thick and driving riffage, away from the expected oompa-skank. Sure, not every headline across Sphinct-Earth Society holds as much weight as the next (“The Juice Did It,” “Persona Non-Greta”). But with the continuous dual-mic assault of intelligible shouts and unintelligible, warped beatboxing, it doesn’t always take alignment with Brutal Sphincter’s causes to find a brutish release. After all, Sphinct-Earth Society’s thoughtful construction allows its pig-frenzy, impropriety-focused dialogue to unfold with punky abandon and affable suspension, a key factor in success for replacing someone like Dr. Moshe Pitt.

Sphinct-Earth Society remains so committed to the groove, however, that its institutional guitar demonstrations often hold less weight than its growling and kicking rhythmic accessories. In some situations, the urgent and playful kit presence that Julien Racine (Xaon) runs under more trope-leaning chapters like “Crusta-Colada (Crack’n Kofola)” and “Unvaxxed Lives Matter,” elevating the sermons of caffeinated Eastern Bloc aggression and public health naïveté.1 Yet, where the guitar would often run crunchier and with precise malice in a death metal lane, Brutal Sphincter keeps to a lower gain chug that rattle dull and blunt alongside a beefier bass rumble (“Beatdown Syndrome,” “Name Three Songs,” “The Juice Did It”). None of these sidesteps in tone derail the two-step in tow; they do cause a bit of amplified confusion, though. So I can see where you, CLENCHED BUT CURIOUS, may have had trouble parsing the full extent of Sphinct-Earth Society’s veracity—you have to vibe with where Brutal Sphincter stews in the low, gurgly, and rumbly goregrind halls.

Nevertheless, Brutal Sphincter intend to provide both laughter—the best medicine—and an easy-to-follow bounce and scowl. Satire via absurdism defines the narrative of Sphinct-Earth Society, and if your partner seems to be having better days at its pages, I think he got the memo. In this life, we all must find ways to cope with the frequently uncontrollable news-worthy happenings on the local, national, or worldwide scale—it’s far from easy. Some choose to do it with people like Dr. Moshe Pitt. Others, like your loved one, have chosen the path of the o-ring warrior. No need to worry, CLENCHED BUT CURIOUS, Brutal Sphincter has got a tight hold on the groovy path. And don’t be surprised if their earlier works end up on your partner’s mantle.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Time to Kill Records | Bandcamp
Websites: brutalsphincter.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/brutalsphincter
Releases Worldwide: May 23rd, 2025

#2025 #30 #BelgianMetal #BrutalDeathMetal #BrutalSphincter #DeathMetal #Goregrind #Gutalax #May25 #RectalSmegma #Review #Reviews #SphinctEarthSociety #TimeToKillRecords #Torsofuck

Solfatare – Asservis par l’espoir Review

By Kenstrosity

Belgian trio Solfatare prime the release of their debut record, Asservis par l’espoir, at a challenging time to compete in the black metal arena. With heavyweight acts dropping records right and left in this space in 2025, Asservis par l’espoir has its work cut out for it to make a big splash and a lasting impression. With only a demo to their name so far, Solfatare launch with a blank slate, adopting the traditional methods of offering as little identifying information as possible before unleashing its hellish shadow upon the land. We can only hope that that shadow obscures in totality all that stand before it, leaving only Solfatare in the hearts and minds of those who witness.

Asservis par l’espoir is nothing if not familiar. Black metal of this ilk gushes profusely out of the metalsphere, especially from regions of France, Germany, and Iceland. Belgium isn’t too far removed from those places, so influences ranging from Silhouette to Sun Worship to Svartidauði fit the prompt when taking in Solfatare’s material. Inject a bit of Vimur‘s sparkling brand of riff-craft, and Asservis par l’espoir becomes a compelling entry on paper. Boasting a rich and full mix that balances the razor’s edge of black metal with modern clarity and sharp detail, Solfatare’s debut record is a pleasure to hear. In short, we’re off to a great start with all of the surface-level check boxes ticked.

On the songwriting front, many of Asservis par l’espoir’s best tracks showcase the genre at its finest, writhing with curled tremolo bends, serrated riff patterns, and immense momentum. Of those best tracks, “Du deuil affairé” rises as the cream of the crop. In this example—and in penultimate epic “Sous des cieux absents” at its midpoint—the particular progression of oscillating trem-picked phrases and slithering arpeggiated embellishments that Solfatare implement make a stunning sequence, memorable for its musicality and striking in its gnarled form. More melodious—though still corrupted by a twist of discordant harmony—offerings such as “D’hommes et d’isoptères” and “Ozymandias” take advantage of their position, setting up (in the former) and resolving (in the latter) those vicious riff-centered outbursts. In fulfilling those roles, they create a dynamic experience unified by a common sound and structure. A predictable result of these dynamics is that Asservis par l’espoir races through its 42-minute span so quickly that I feel obligated to spin it again, if for no other reason than to make sure I didn’t miss out on any other notable moments.

As strongly as I maintain that albums like these are easy to love, and even easier to spin both casually and with focused intent, the challenge remains to distinguish oneself from the greater pool of artists creating similar works. It is here that I am not convinced Solfatare fully matured yet. To call Asservis par l’espoir a competent record in the style would be a mild understatement. It’s a compelling record in its own right for a significant chunk of its runtime, and an enjoyable one for the rest. However, its back half entries don’t shine as brightly as the first half’s, and even those don’t stand out well against the wider set of the style. Closing duo “Sous des cieux absents” and “Quand ton cerveau te surine le crâne” don’t lag behind in overall songwriting consistency, but they lack flavor. All of the elements are there—layered tremolos, vomitous wretches, thunderous percussion, transformative transitions, the works—but the intangibles remain on the table, unable to help Solfatare establish a distinct identity in their chosen field at the most important juncture for them to do so. If at the end of the record I am this unconfident that I could pull the band out of a lineup, it’s clear something that was needed didn’t make it to the final product.

Still, listeners could do worse than Asservis par l’espoir. Boasting a ton of high-octane, easily enjoyable material, Solfatare’s debut does justice to its genre. However, it lacks a unique voice to help it stand above the crowd. It just so happens that that crowd is very good at what they do, and it’s become overpopulated. While that means Solfatare have to work to find that special thing that gives them a voice and a point of view, I look forward to hearing the result of that inevitable discovery.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Signal Rex
Websites: solfatare.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Solfatare
Releases Worldwide: May 2nd, 2025

#25 #2025 #AsservisParLEspoir #BelgianMetal #BlackMetal #May25 #Review #Reviews #SignalRex #Silhouette #Sofatare #SunWorship #Svartidauði #Vimur

Coffin Feeder – Big Trouble Review

By El Cuervo

Sometimes you can judge a book by its cover. The intellectual property rights-busting album artwork of Big Trouble by Coffin Feeder pays tribute to the silliest action movies of the 80s and 90s, just like the music within. This album represents the band’s full-length debut after a pair of EPs that tickled our very own Kenstrosity. Though the core members may be Belgian, the bands through which these guys ordinarily peddle their wares (Aborted, Leng Tch’e) are fused with a steaming smorgasbord of high-profile guest spots (Benighted, Cattle Decapitation, Archspire). The result is an energetic fusion of various cores, from death to grind to hard (also the order of events at Dr. A.N. Grier’s place on a Friday night). How are these sub-genres fused?

Distilling Big Trouble down into its key elements is relatively easy, even if those key elements themselves don’t offer easy listening. It combines the monumental heft of deathcore with the sneering attitude of hardcore and the speedy intensity of grindcore. “Porkchop Express” is prototypical of the album, as it blends a stomping lead that reeks of slam with a faster, tremolo-picked verse, while the vocals unpredictably flip between pig squeals, hardcore shouts, and deathly growls. These songs are extremely extreme, favoring an obnoxiously loud master, boisterous riffs, and relentless energy. It’s a lot, but also – at least on first listen – a lot of fun. It’s difficult to dislike something so active and aggressive, and it’s all too brief to become bored. The cacophony is more of an experience than mere music.

I also admire how Coffin Feeder lean into their own silliness; they represent the diametric opposition to bands that take themselves too seriously. It’s difficult to dispute the “What is best in life?” speech from Conan the Barbarian when layered over beefcake deathcore (“The Destroyer”). But I would also argue that Big Trouble favors style over substance. The sense of humor pastes over an album that’s solid in execution of the fundamentals, but not much better. It feels like the band has used up all their ideas by the back half of the record. The songs become predictable, shuffling between mid-paced/deathlier passages, faster/grindier passages, and slower/breakdown passages. Likewise, most of the riffs sound basically the same. Though the leads are typically entertaining, not many of the tracks really stand out because they follow similar sounds throughout.

Like all good -core music, the breakdowns are often the highlights. When those blast beats are broken down with a slower but groovier lead, heads will bang. In fact, breakdowns are such an easy win in -core music that they feel like a song-writing crutch. Big Trouble accordingly struggles more where there are longer gaps between those fist-pumping moments. “Plain Zero” is a straighter death metal track with a hefty punch, but the relative absence of breakdowns means my attention is less focused. Paradoxically, there are other tracks with poorly deployed breakdowns that disrupt their flow. “Love at First Death” features a pause that becomes a beefy breakdown, but it’s too sudden and changes the tone of the song. Despite solid leads and entertaining grooves, some tracks aren’t particularly cohesive. The music is so frenetic that it can feel disjointed; it’s an amalgamation of ideas but not written into tidy, individual songs.

Coffin Feeder boast some qualities that will undoubtedly appeal to those with a brutal, slamming proclivity. The songs flex with muscular riffs and mighty breakdowns, and the motley vocals go some way to offering a little variety. But Big Trouble (in Little Belgium) ultimately fails to distinguish its individual songs due to repetitive songwriting. Its sheer power can’t overcome a lack of creative spark or ingenuity required to elevate music beyond the average. I feel like there’s more to come from these Belgians.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Listenable Records
Websites: coffinfeederband.com | coffinfeeder.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/coffinfeeder
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Aborted #Apr25 #Archspire #BelgianMetal #Benighted #BigTrouble #CattleDecapitation #CoffinFeeder #DeathMetal #Deathcore #Grindcore #Hardcore #LengTchE #Review #Reviews

Black Narcissus – There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten Review

By Killjoy

It’s often impossible to convey feelings with words, so it’s sometimes better not to try. This certainly appears to be the philosophy of Black Narcissus, an instrumental post-rock duo from Belgium comprised of bassist Jesse Massant and drummer Thomas Wuyts. While instrumental groups are hardly uncommon, especially in this genre, Black Narcissus is unique in that bass and drums are the only tools they use to construct their interpretation of the relationship between man and nature. These two vital, stalwart instruments can often be overshadowed by the flashy vocal and multi-guitar antics commonplace in rock and metal. How bright can they shine in a setting where they possess the spotlight by default?

Black Narcissus’ main goal is to cultivate an environment where individual emotional responses can freely blossom. There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten is teeming with ethereal, evocative melodies sounding like the result of cross-pollination between earlier Explosions in the Sky and Alcest’s Les Voyages de L’Âme era.1 As this description might suggest, there is little resembling heaviness aside from stray blast beats and thick, reverb-drenched bass chords. But those who share our Overlord’s cynical views regarding the role of reverb in atmospheric music needn’t worry; in this case, it’s not a crutch to force a specific mood. Rather, the rich moods naturally wax and wane through masterful musical arrangements, developed enough to easily latch onto yet ambiguous enough to leave room for personal interpretation. Black Narcissus recognizes that, like in nature, there is beauty in simplicity, and all are welcome to partake.

Mother Nature may recycle her resources but Black Narcissus doesn’t recycle ideas. Both players continually explore different melodies and tempos, like walking past one tree after another, each unique but part of a singular forest. Massant’s bass lines gently cascade during “In Throes of Increasing Wonder” and ripple in “Draped in Ivy, Guilded by Time” as if in response to Wuyts’ syncopated crashes like raindrops hitting a pond surface. I can’t stress enough how much the drumming thrives in this partnership. Wuyts takes full advantage of the music’s free-flowing character to play one intricate rhythm after another, seemingly using the entirety of his drum kit on a regular basis. The music is further enriched by the warm and whimsical tones of an upright bass—Massant proving to be an expert bassist in more than one sense—which cast a folksy cinematic tint onto tracks such as “On This Twilight Evening” and “These Hands That Build.”

The reluctance of Black Narcissus to linger long in any one place does not mean that they abandon streams of thought prematurely. They provide ample space for each musical passage to gradually bloom and disperse seeds to transition to the next as effortlessly as the passage of time. Time, though, is largely irrelevant here. There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten lasts for exactly one hour, but it could have been either half or twice as long and remained equally entrancing. Therefore, it works best if the listener is willing to surrender any dispositions toward customary song structures and witness a forest grow at its pleasure with no concern for the orderliness of man. To this end, the production sounds fantastic. The bass lines, often layered atop one another, are easily audible; each cymbal tap, tom beat, and snare hit sounds crisp and satisfying. My only minuscule grievance is when a spoken word sample in “At the Mercy of Men with No Mercy at All” interrupts immersion by lasting too long, but the other samples throughout the album are used more sparingly.

There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten is an aural treat I could never have been prepared for. I selected an instrumental album because I thought it would help me focus during a busy period in my day job, but it gave me way more than I bargained for. While it does make for pleasant background music, it becomes increasingly rewarding the more time and attention are invested. It’s truly an album to become lost in, each hauntingly beautiful song a great companion for many different moods and activities. After five paragraphs of inadequate efforts to describe its majestic sound, I have to admit that Black Narcissus is correct: words are of little value in this realm. So, if you haven’t already, press play and hear the magic for yourself.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Dunk! Records (EU) | A Thousand Arms Music (US)
Websites: blacknarcissusband.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/blacknarcissusband
Releases Worldwide: February 14th, 2025

#2025 #45 #AThousandArmsMusic #Alcest #BelgianMetal #BlackNarcissus #DunkRecords #ExplosionsInTheSky #Feb25 #Instrumental #InstrumentalMetal #PostRock #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #ThereLingersOneWhoSLongForgotten

Wyatt E. – Zamāru Ultu Qereb Ziqquratu Part 1 Review

By Killjoy

With so many bands vying for attention in this digital age, sometimes it takes something truly original to catch a listener’s eye. This is what fixed my attention on Zamāru Ultu Qereb Ziqquratu Part 1 as it poked out of the fertile soil in the promo pit. Wyatt E.1 was originally founded in Belgium as an instrumental drone/doom group by guitarists Sébastien von Landau and Stéphane Rondia to portray the captured people of Jerusalem during the Babylonian Exile in 587 BCE. They made some bold alterations on this latest record to expand their sonic footprint, namely the addition of two drummers recorded simultaneously and collaborations with vocalists Nina Saeidi (Lowen) and Tomer Damsky. Did these creative shakeups succeed in enriching Wyatt E.’s sound?

A few of Wyatt E.’s more unconventional résumé entries have visibly impacted the development of Zamāru. Traces of the synth-heavy soundtrack they wrote for the 2022 film Bowling Saturne are scattered throughout, and the album has a distinct cinematic flair. They also teamed up with Tomer Damsky and Five the Hierophant for a specially commissioned performance at the 2022 Roadburn Festival titled Atonia.2 Five the Hierophant is a convenient starting point for comparison with Wyatt E., as they both rely on continuous repetition of key melodies embellished by a rich assortment of instruments. However, while the former favors wild saxophone passages, the latter prefers to lean on Middle Eastern instruments like the saz and sitar in a manner similar to last year’s Black Aleph release. With these accomplishments under its belt, Wyatt E. was primed to continue where the last album Āl Bēlūti Dārû left off with the intensity now cranked up to 11.

If we liken Zamāru’s structure to a sandwich, the 10-12 minute drone-laden treks bookending the album are the reliable bread that holds everything together. Opener “Qaqqari la târi Part I” begins with a single recurring note forming a rhythmic pattern underpinning the song as subtle fills are gradually layered on and the music suddenly erupts with sitar and percussion. It can’t be overstated how much drummers Jonas Sanders and Gil Chevigné boost the power and scope of the music. They sound positively thunderous when they play the same rhythm and in the finale of closer “Ahanu Ersetum” one anchors the steady beat while the other focuses on complex fills and dramatic crashes. If I had to nitpick, I’d say that a minute or so from the beginning of each of these two longer tracks could have been shortened, but it’s hard to complain much when the buildup and subsequent payoff are so compelling.

Of course, a good sandwich needs delectable filling, and the three middle tracks of Zamāru add tons of piquancy. Much of this comes from the stellar guest vocalists. Tomer Damsky’s singing in “Im Lelya” is nothing short of captivating, especially her vocal undulations at key moments. Likewise, Nina Saeidi’s hypnotic voice rises and falls like gigantic sand dunes in “The Diviner’s Prayer to the Gods of the Night” as she sings an ancient Akkadian poem. The guests don’t do all the heavy lifting, though. “Kerretu Mahrû” is a fascinating whirlwind of Middle Eastern instrumentation underscored by an elaborate drumming dance that all ends much too soon. In fact, this is my only real disappointment with Zamāru as a whole—it feels a bit incomplete. This isn’t exactly surprising, given that it’s titled Part 1, but I still can’t help but crave more after the 35 minutes are over.

It’s barely January, but I’d wager that Wyatt E. has fashioned one of the most unique records of 2025. The novelty factor may be what prompted me to investigate, but Zamāru more than stands on its own merits. Wyatt E. has mastered the tricky art of balancing the repetitive nature of drone with exotic exploration, making good use of the new resources available to hit several creative stretch goals with ease. This is a thoroughly engrossing experience that has earned my attention and rapt anticipation for Part 2.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Heavy Psych Sounds Records
Websites: wyattdoom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Wyattdoom
Releases Worldwide: January 10th, 2025

#2025 #40 #BelgianMetal #BlackAleph #DoomMetal #DroneMetal #FiveTheHierophant #FolkMetal #HeavyPsychSoundsRecords #Jan25 #Lowen #Review #Reviews #WyattE_ #ZamaruUltuQerebZiqquratuPart1

KrvL – Donkere Paden Review

By Maddog

Written by: Nameless_N00b_89

The nameless souls of the black metal band KrvL (pronounced “Kravaal”) are said to roam Belgium’s Kravaal forest. As a nameless one, too, I felt a peripheral connection to the group, which formed in 2020 at the height of the pandemic. With its 2022 self-released debut Kravaal, KrvL presented its sonic vision to the world. A decent dose of black metal with post and doom leanings, Kravaal caught the attention of start-up Italian label These Hands Melt, who signed the mysterious Belgians in 2024. Steeled now to release its sophomore effort Donkere Paden, KrvL seeks to enter the light from, as the blurb reads, “the darkness they find themselves in.”

KrvL’s black metal takes root mostly in the second-wave tradition, with post-metal and doom both making appearances. Replicating the debut’s blueprint, Donkere Paden leans heaviest on riffs of the tremolodic kind. Layering single-string over double-string tremolos to create melodicism in the faster passages, KrvL harkens back to Transilvanian Hunger-era Darkthrone with less of the catchiness and better production. The slower, doom-like passages have a faster-than-funeral-paced Mizmor quality that serves the album’s atmosphere well, with even the dirge-ier riffs being tremolo-picked. The drums employ straight and d-beat patterns to keep the speedier sections moving, while holding back to give the slower-paced passages more room to breathe, where the bass work often breaks through. The vocals, dispossessed of the variety displayed on the debut, rule the bulk of Donkere Paden with a genre-appropriate scream-shout delivery.

A tale of two tempos, Donkere Paden achieves more with subtlety than aggression. The front half’s speedier movements are dominated in the mix by the drums and vocals, leaving little room for the guitars and bass (“De Koning Van Stilte,” “Cadans Der Drofheid”). Conversely, those same tracks’ doomier passages succeed with a more sonically balanced approach, guitars resonating confidently with enough space to hear the slithering bass lines underneath. Guest appearances serve as a counterpoint to the one-dimensional vocal approach, be it the raspy shouts and spoken words of Oerhek’s H (“Duvielsputten”) or Shazulla’s (of Wolvennest) shouted words on the Filosofem-ic “Zielenrust.” The album’s highlights (“De Verloren Herder” and “Het Onbegrip”) both benefit from speedy tremolos that attain even footing with the drums and vocals. The former song’s midpoint builds back from a single-plucked guitar line to shimmering tremolos that usher the melancholic melody to its end. In contrast, the latter song’s slower second half marches the album to a majestic conclusion with its plodding descent of power chords supporting a single-string melody.

At just over 40 minutes, Donkere Paden’s runtime feels longer due to its formulaic repetition. Instead of using the foundation of Kravaal as a springboard for further artistic exploration, KrvL chose a narrower, more AC/DC-like scope and simply recreated it. Less focused on the doomier, atmospheric song structures that highlight the band’s strengths, Donkere Paden cedes more time to speed, which is where KrvL loses itself. Employing less than a handful of notes to drive melodic variation in both the fast and slow tremolo riffs (“De Koning Van Stilte,” “Avondrood”), this approach further intensifies the album’s feel of similitude. Even the plucked guitar passages that serve as intro (“De Koning Van Stilte”) or interlude (“Cadans Der Drofheid,” “Het Onbegrip”) carry a sense of recycled interchangeability. The overall effect dulls the listener’s senses and significantly impacts memorability.

From production to performance, KrvL’s Donkere Paden is a good album, just not a memorable one. Taken in bite-sized pieces, the constituent parts of the record are all pleasantly digestible, especially when they fire on all cylinders (“De Verloren Herder,” “Het Onbegrip”). However, this success is not par for Donkere Paden’s course, which lacks the structural ideas necessary to support the release as a whole. KrvL does more of its best work on the debut than on this sophomore effort. I enjoyed walking the unpaved paths of KrvL’s Donkere Paden and will be keeping an eye on what these nameless minstrels do next, hoping for something I’ll carry with me for longer.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: These Hands Melt
Websites: krvl.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/KrvL1745
Releases Worldwide: October 11th, 2024

#2024 #30 #BelgianMetal #BlackMetal #Darkthrone #DonkerePaden #Doom #DoomMetal #KrvL #Mizmor #Oct24 #PostBlackMetal #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #TheseHandsMelt

Bütcher – On Fowl of Tyrant Wing Review

By Steel Druhm

Where is the goat and the chariot? Where is the meat Billy horn that was blowing? The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into the fowl of a Tyrant. 2020 saw the metalverse shaken to its core by the massively infectious sophomore album by Belgian black/trad/thrashers Bütcher. So much rowdy fun was 666 Goats Carry My Chariot that it mattered not a wit that it was entirely composed of well-trod metal tropes. The hyperactive 80s speed with blackened edges was just the right mixture of heavy, catchy, and over-the-top with songs that had teeth. Fast-forward to 2024 and we get the much-anticipated follow-up On Fowl of Tyrant Wing. Can these unheralded goat hoarders rebottle the lightning and magic that made 666 such an out-of-left-field brain smasher? That’s no small ask and no easy feat to manage, even with unlimited goatpower at their disposal!

Things open with a slick intro loaded with NWoBHM flavor with regal guitar lines that reek of Savage Grace. From there you get launched into burning chaos with the crazy speed-thrashing rampage of “Speed Metal Samurai.” Yes, it’s a cheeseball title but the song is this album’s version of “Iron Bitch” off of 666, so you’ll get shaken, slapped up, and brutally prodded. R Hellshrieker is once again an unhinged maniac at the mic, screaming, growling, shrieking, and singing with lunatic gusto and verve. He even adopts very ICS Vortex high-register cleans for dramatic effect. Rabid riffs and crazed harmonies storm with menace beneath his ravings and the hyperkinetic energy cannot be denied or restrained. The commitment to excess splashes over into “Blessed by the Blade” and the 80s live loudly in the resulting mayhem. It’s speed metal all day with a slight blackened touch and it’s madcap, raucous fun. Hellshrieker straddles the line between enthusiastic thrash bark and wailing King Diamond-esque dramatics to good effect and classic metal elements round out the bashing and add a veneer of accessibility and class. An especially wild outburst arrives with “Keep the Steele (Flamin’ Hot)” where all the chains come off and the Mad Bütcher runs amok. It’s a nuclear speed bomb with no guard rails to keep it safe and things get out of control fast. Hellshrieker really goes off the reservation here, screaming, roaring, and adding little King Diamond theatrics in a vocal slurry. His commands to “bow down to the Powerlord” are especially endearing as that was my nickname in high school.

The second half of On Fowl of Tyrant Wing is a different beast of an altered color. The last few songs are all much longer and more involved, trying to suture a ton of ideas into cohesive pieces of music with varying degrees of success. “A Sacrifice to Satan’s Spawn” welds NWoBHM bits to Mercyful Fate-esque pieces and slathers it all with guitar-forward excess and a somewhat “restrained” performance by Hellshrieker. It works because it asserts a modicum of moderation. 9-plus minute closer “An Ending in Fyre” exercises not such discipline, dumping Viking black metal, NWoBHM, and classic metal into an industrial cow juicer with unusual flavors flopping out of the thresher. It has good bits and interesting moments but it’s messy, feels a bit forced and duct-taped together, and after 6 minutes it starts to drag. Though the album is only 43-plus minutes, the presence of back-to-back-to-back long songs on the back end makes things feel longer than they are. Worse, the material lacks the same wild novelty and raw hooks that 666 had in abundance. I like it all but I’m only really impressed by certain tracks. That’s a bit of a letdown.

Musically, Bütcher has a lot going for them. KK Ripper and KV Bonecrusher go all in guitar-wise with furiously jagged riffs stacked on melodic NOWoBHM harmonies and grooves. The six-string insanity flows like blood from the n00b recycling unit at AMG HQ, making every track kinetic. There are many slick, memorable moments scattered over the album, and the duo never seems hard up for inspiration. Hellshrieker is a special kind of monster. He’s like 15 people trapped in one body and they all want their time in the spotlight. Screams, death roars, blackened cackles, croons, everything just comes out in seemingly random fashion and it all kinda works. It’s really just an issue of the songs having less bite and staying power this time that undermines the goatworks.

There’s never going to be a dull Bütcher album. Their all-gas, no-brakes approach guarantees that much. I enjoy On Fowl of Tyrant Wing and several songs are good enough to make playlists. I just don’t see blasting this as much as I did 666 Goats, because I was obsessed with that goatwomit nonsense. I can still recommend it though because good times will be had and the milk of Black Phillip will season your beer salad with many exotic blessings. Go get bucked.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Osmose
Websites: osmoseproductions.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/butcherspeedmetal | instagram.com/butcherspeedmetal
Releases Worldwide: October 25th, 2024

#2024 #30 #BelgianMetal #BlackMetal #Bütcher #HeavyMetal #IronAngel #MercyfulFate #Oct24 #OnFowlOfTyrantWing #OsmoseProductions #Review #Reviews #ThrashMetal

Stuck in the Filter: May 2024’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

I thought the onset of summer would mean a total solar beatdown. Instead, it’s brought the rain. Absolutely chucking down rain. But, if you thought that bad weather leads to mercy from me, you’re dead wrong. In fact, I pushed my minions even harder to dredge up as many waterlogged nuggets of notable ore from our perpetually overtaxed filtration system.

And so, as my “staff,” who are definitely paid (don’t look into it) dry off in the industrial-grade wind tunnel, allow me to introduce May’s Filter entries for a public I truly don’t care about at all (don’t look into it). BEHOLD!

Iceberg’s Divisive Defenstrations

Cobra The Impaler // Karma Collision [May 24th, 2024 – Listenable Records]

Belgium’s Cobra The Impaler bill themselves as carrying the torch of classic-era Mastodon, a band hitting so many spectrums of metal comparing one’s music to theirs is a much safer bet than not. Led by primary songwriter and ex-Aborted guitarist Tace DC, the band sit somewhere in the murky grey between progressive and technical modern metal. The aforementioned Mastodon worship is strong here—especially in opener “Magnetic Hex”—although the crystal clean production by Jens Borgren really prevents the use of the term “sludge.” Elsewhere there are prog-metal moments of Virus/Vector-era Haken (“Karma Collision,” “The Fountain”) and some of the relentless, drums-in-front compositions of Gojira (“Karma Collision,” “The Assassins of the Vision”). Vocalist Manuel Remmerie’s also has his work cut out for him, delivering plenty of admirable cleans in both high and low registers alongside full-throated screams and somewhat less effective pitched growls. The instrumental performances here are top-notch, professional in the verse/chorus sections, and continuously—sometimes outstandingly—creative in the free-form bridges. There is some tightening to be done with the accessibility of the choruses—they fall flat against the superior instrumental sections— but there are moments of brilliance and a ton of potential in this five-piece.

Capstan // The Mosaic [May 24th, 2024 – Fearless Records]

Anyone who’s plugged into the post-hardcore scene should know that Florida’s Capstan transcend the—rightfully deserved—vitriol thrown at the style. I don’t think any Fearless band has ever been reviewed here, but Capstan’s latest opus The Mosaic deserves a shoutout to whomever hasn’t run screaming from these halls. Led by vocalist Anthony DeMario—sure to be a divisive figure with his unapologetic pop punk cleans—the band has continuously augmented their Warped-core sound with the mathy guitar noodlings of Chon or Polyphia, and an impressive triple vocalist attack for thick, elaborate harmonies. This album, clocking in at over an hour, doesn’t pull any punches, showcasing trip-hop, breakdown-laced numbers (“Bete Noire”), full throated anthems about self-loathing and heartbreak (“Misery Scene”) and even lighter, crooning ballads (“What Can I Say”). Synergy and professionalism are where the band shine; everything has is slickly produced and the performances—especially those vocals—are whip-smart. Plenty of editing could have been done, but you can tell how much fun the band is having. Anyone with a passing interest or nostalgia for 2000’s post-hardcore should check this out. Plus their drummer plays with traditional grip, and watching a jazz guy slam out breakdowns is pretty rad in my book.

GardensTale’s Dose of Decay

Strychnos // Armageddon Patronage [May 17th, 2024 – Dark Descent Records]

I don’t always check out albums that set the comment section and/or Discord abuzz, but when I do, it rarely results in anything less than interesting. Case in point, the bottomless evil of Strychnos, a Danish outfit that struggled to get off the ground in the early 00’s, eked out a single EP in the 10’s, and suddenly started shitting out heaving platters of malicious black/death since the pandemic. Armageddon Patronage is the second full-length off their new production line, and it brings every horseman along for its deadly ride. War is embodied by the lethal double feature that starts the charge, with swelling riffs battering the unjust to fertilizer. The unflinching and unfeeling brutality of Famine seethes from “Choking Salvation,” and out the beaks of “Pale Black Birds” pours Pestilence with slavering enthusiasm. Frontman Martin Leth Anderson, who also handles bass for Undergang, employs a bellowing growl that encapsulates hopelessness and suffering, and the excellent, malevolent riffs usher an effective aura of utter destruction. Death, however, comes not at the end, but during the doom-laden centerpiece, the despondent “Endless Void Dimension” with its atmospheric Gregorian chanting. I have no qualms becoming a patron to this spiteful chunk of armageddon.

Dear Hollow’s Shtanky Shwamp of Shrieks

Saidan // Visual Kill: The Blossoming of Psychotic Depravity [May 24th, 2024 – Self-Released]

Saidan do things a little differently. The Nashville duo’s themes rooted in Japanese folklore and the formidable and mysterious yokai in particular, combined with a relentlessly riffy and punk-driven tour-de-force of black metal proportions are always food for thought in the act’s brief and formidable history. Seamlessly transitioning between punk chord progressions and bouncy drums to blastbeats and kvlt tremolo to groovy riffs and rhythms, anchored by Splatterpvnk’s ripping vocals, it never shies away from punishment. However, interwoven with this assault is a distinctly melodic undercurrent that brightens the progressions and gives purpose and a sense of fun – a hyper-melodic black metal act would be jealous. You won’t be able to shake the grooves of “Desecration of a Lustful Illusion,” the symphonic black intensity of “Genocidal Bloodfiend” and “Veins of the Wicked” hit you like a cyclone, and the classic thrash solos and anime-theme-song vibe of “Sick Abducted Purity,” “Visual Kill,” and “Switchblade Paradise” are guaranteed to get your head banging – plus, the interlude “seraphic lullaby” and instrumental closer “suffer” ain’t half bad. Visual Kill is like if Powerglove wrote a black metal album that you could actually take seriously, backed up with the technicality, songwriting chops, and sheer unbridled energy to make it work.

Parfaxitas // Weaver of the Black Moon [May 31st, 2024 – Terratur Possessions]

The minds behind Parfaxitas should need little introduction, although the moniker will likely not ring any bells. Representing three separate scenes and their respective contributions to black metal lore, two American stringsmen from acts Merihem, Suffering Hour, and Manetherean, Icelandic drummer B.E. from Almyrkvi, Sinmara, Slidhr, and Wormlust, and Norwegian vocalist K.R. From Whoredom Rife collide. Weaver of the Black Moon combines the blueprint of second-wave Norwegian black with the obsidian dissonance of Icelandic, and the experimental edge of American acts, making it a tour-de-force of both vicious sound and tortured atmosphere. Dissonance rains down like acid, a backdrop, and shroud of otherworldly sounds that shimmer and crunch in ways that recall both the winding passages of Suffering Hour and the psychedelic rawness of Wormlust simultaneously. Hammered by vicious blastbeats and guided by tortured barks, the guitar and meandering fluid bass guide listeners from untouchable intensity (“Thou Shalt Worship No Other”) to haunting and hypnotic atmosphere (“Ravens of Dispersion”) – stealing the show. Parfaxitas features a whole lot of firepower, culminating in epic closer “Fields of Nightmares,” a crescendo of punishing and otherworldly proportions.

Aseitas // Eden Trough [May 30th, 2024 – Total Dissonance Worship]

After Aseitas’ formidable 2020 album False Peace, which narrowly missed my AOTY’s, the Portland trio is back with another album – which could easily be classified as an EP in its tidy thirty-minute runtime. Eden Trough condenses the lofty and decadent ambition of its predecessor for an album devoted to complete takedown in winding riffs, punishing death metal, and ravaging vocals. From the thick and punishing signature shifts of “Libertine Captor” and “Alabaster Bones,” complete with shifting riffs and a liminal sense of melody, to the more droning and haunting “Break the Neck of Every Beautiful Thing,” to the epic and cosmic psychedelia of ten-minute centerpiece “Tiamat,” Aseitas’ shows its tantalizing and gradual progression to an echelon of indispensable in the world of dissonant death. Offering influences of convulsive mathcore, mammoth post-metal, and unhinged yet intensely calculated technicality, Eden Trough is a must-listen for the long-time fan, as well as proffering a snapshot to the curious of what makes Aseitas so special to begin with.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Progalicious Ponderings

Azure // Fym [May 23rd, 2024 – Self Release]

Are you way into high fantasy and exuberant, progressive albums that reflect that sentiment? If so, look no further than Azure’s third opus, Fym, which over its runtime recounts the tales of a mystical fox’s journey in a frightening and whimsical world. Normally I wouldn’t think twice about an album with such a storybook concept.1 But between Chris Sampson’s vocal navigations that ring as hyper-tenor and dolphin-like (“The Lavender Fox”)2 as they do sullen and heart-wrenching (“Kingdom of Ice and Light,” “Moonrise”), and Galen Stapley’s mystical fretboard wizardry that marries funk chords, soundtrack melodies, and dance-able shred, Azure packs too much sunshine in their prog for me to ignore. And at almost eighty minutes, they pack a lot of it too. However, each run through Fym’s pages finds a new rumbling bass bounce to propel a hop, a new vocal run to twirl my tongue (with notes that I couldn’t possibly hit), or a synthfully sinful refrain to stain my brain matter with happy juice—”The Azdinist // Den of Dawns” or “Agentic State” unite these ideas best—it’s truly a hard album to put down. Combining just about every era of Genesis with the acrobatics of Dream Theater, the play and ambition of the earliest of Pain of Salvation theatrics, and healthy dose of modern bastardizations (check the autotune/pitchshifting on “Doppelgänger”), Azure has made a mighty statement with Fym that I’m still digesting. And with as many inventive synth patches, harmonic vocal layers, and cinematic builds as this rainbow dose of prog pushes, it’ll be quite some time before I’ve made up my mind about it all. So I’ll continue in pieces. Or all at once. Whatever time allows because Fym is just that much fun.

PreHistoric Animals // Finding Love in Strange Places [May 16th, 2024 – Dutch Music Works]

And here we are with, what’s that, another prog concept album? This one’s a little less terrestrial though, featuring healthy infusions of a futuristic space drama and heavy-hitting synthwave doots and bounces. Over the course of their past couple works, PreHistoric Animals has found an ease in comfortable exploration with their King’s X-like tendency to grip with a barbed verse melody or chorus explosion, layered tastefully with harmonic vocal accompaniment and groove-heavy riffs. But, despite that comparison, it’s clear from the opening synth pulse of “The City of My Dreams” and “Living in a World of Bliss” that an electronic and hooky identity that’s caught between Toto and Yes imbues the edges of refrains that stick like honey to vocalist Stefan Altzar’s easy-on-the-ears narrative. Finding Love in Strange Places can get bogged down a touch in its word-driven nature, though, especially on the various interludes and certain longer tracks like “Unbreakable” and “Nothing Has Changed but Everything Is Different.” None of that fluff ever truly interrupts Finding Love’s heartbeat rhythms, which hold a steady if highly syncopated simplicity and form a hi-hat charming vessel that keeps the head nodding in progressive pomp. Oh, and it helps that guitarists Altzar and Daniel Magdic (ex-Pain of Salvation) have studied the slow-burn solo nature of greats like David Gilmour (Pink Floyd) and Brian May (Queen), with tasteful legato and searing ascensions aiding in earned crescendo at Finding Love’s best moments (“Living in a World of Bliss,” “The Secret of Goodness”). Having reliably churned out confident and catchy works every other years since 2018, PreHistoric Animals fly relatively low in the flock of modern prog, but these space-bound Swedes have earned a likely lifelong aquatic fan at this stage of their growing career. Give Love a chance!

Matrass // Cathedrals [May 17th, 2024 – La Tangente Label]

And, last but not least from my assortment, Matrass hails from France to bring you Cathedrals, which is… yes, you guessed it, another prog concept album! If you’re worried about another album of the synthtastic and 80s prog-themed variety, though, don’t fret about what Matrass brings to the table. Playing closer to post than progressive waters, Cathedrals flitters about dreamy, lounge jazz guitar passages before crushing down with Cult of Luna riffs and Tesseract-inspired, low-end atmospherics. But most important to the groove and cinematic lilt that defines Cathedrals is the methods by which vocalist Clémentine Browne navigates jangling verses with gentle croons and accented, rhythmic spoken word before frying down with screeching and hissing fervor against heavy chord crushes. That talent for establishing and reinforcing mood lands idiosyncratic in the realm of post acts, so her exact methods may not fit the bill for all fans of the rise-and-fall aesthetic the genre offers. And though Matrass remains largely iterative of this mood through its hour-long run, it’s that successful idea of atmosphere that allows peak tracks “Shreds,” “Adrift” (which features Browne on saxophone instead), and “Cathedrals” to conjure such powerful and drifting thoughts in my head. And when you’re in its valleys? Matrass still maintains a textural backdrop that spells high potential for this young act.

Saunders’ Sulfuric Stash

Desolus // System Shock [March 10th, 2024 – Hells Headbangers]

Who’s up for some explosive, throwback thrashy goodness? Although hailing from the States, Desolus take plenty of inspiration from classic German trash titans Kreator, Destruction and Sodom. Throw in classic Dark Angel vibes, a heavy, modern edge and crunchy production job, and the band’s debut System Shock ticks all the boxes for a thrashing great time. This shit is seriously jacked with unhinged, old-school aggression, spitfire riffs and stampeding percussion propelling the album’s ten speed-driven assaults. An utterly deranged, ’80s underground-inspired vocal performance adds further steel-plated authenticity to a retro-minded sound that manages to sound fresh and inspired. Aside from rare moments of slower melodic nuance on the otherwise blistering “Sea of Fire,” and the aptly titled “Interlude” providing a handy breather, Desolus crank speed and intensity to the max, rarely breaking from their relentless stride. The opening one-two salvo of “System Shock” and bonkers lunacy of “From Man to Machine” set a savage tone and gritty platform from which Desolus launch assault after assault of high-octane thrash mania. “Cures of the Technomancer” is an absolute riff beast with groove and speed for days, while “The Invasion Begins” deftly puts you in a false sense of bouncy melodic security before jamming the afterburners into a typically ferocious attack. Exuberant, nasty stuff.

Terminal Nation // Echoes of the Devil’s Den [May 3rd, 2024 – 20 Buck Spin]

The second album from Pittsburgh bruisers Terminal Nation hits with sledgehammer force, obliterating any semblance of subtlety in favor of an extra beefy, in-your-face hybrid of death metal and hardcore. Echoes of the Devil’s Den features a searing, politically charged and seriously pissed-off bite. High-profile guest vocal slots seamlessly blend into the vicious attack, including strong turns from Integrity‘s Dwid Hellion (“Release the Serpents”), Killswitch Engage‘s Jesse Leach (“Merchants of Bloodshed”) and Nails frontman Todd Jones. Jones features on “Written by the Victor,” a vicious tune that harnesses thick, neck-wrecking grooves and punishing, doom-laden death grooves. The album’s hardcore influence and political slant may turn off certain listeners, but those who don’t mind some hardcore in their death stew should find plenty to like here. The gritty, muscular exterior features nods to Bolt Thrower and All Shall Perish, while the weighty, mid-paced crush, chunky riffs and breakdowns are balanced by tasteful melodic counterpoints and livelier bursts of speed (“Dying Alive”). Not all works; the provocative, anti-police song “No Reform (New Age Slave Patrol)” musically has its moments; however, the heavy-handed lyrical approach sticks out like a sore thumb. Nevertheless, Echoes of the Devil’s Den swings and slugs you more often than it misses.

Steel Druhm’s Sewer Tarts

The Troops of Doom // A Mass to the Grotesque [May 31, 2024 – Alma Mater Records]

For their sophomore outing, Brazilian death-thrashers The Troops of Doom took their vintage Sepultura-esque sound and juiced it up considerably from what we heard on 2022s Antichrist Reborn. A Mass to the Grotesque still sounds a bunch like classic Sepultura but it’s much more refined, developed and expanded in scope. Yet it’s still a frenzied, thrashing assault full of lyrics about evil, demons, and all things anti-Christian. It sounds like something that should have dropped in as the 80s thrash wave started mutating into proto-death, and that is a beloved era of music for yours Steely. Songs like “Chapels of the Unholy” and “Dawn of Mephisto” sit right on the bleeding edge of thrash and early death, with Slayer-tastic riffs colliding with early examples of death grooves. What makes this so entertaining is how the band reaches outside of the Sepultura homage bubble to drag in new elements to expand their sound. Some songs feel slightly progressive (“Denied Divinity”) while elsewhere they shoehorn epic doom into the massive “Psalm 7:8 – God of Bizarre.” The straight-up riffbeasts are my favorites though, with “The Imposter King” being a big, fat, sweaty highlight. While these cats are always going to get compared to classic Sepultura, they made real efforts here to stake out their own identity. This is a wild, testosterone-fueled ride featuring the maximum allowable Satan, and I support that.

#20BuckSpin #2024 #AMassToTheGrotesque #Aborted #AllShallPerish #AlmaMaterRecords #Almyrkvi #AmericanMetal #ArmageddonPatronage #Aseitas #Azure #BelgianMetal #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BoltThrower #Capstan #Cathedrals #CHON #CobraTheImpaler #CultOfLuna #DanishMetal #DarkAngel #DarkDescentRecords #DeathMetal #Desolus #Destruction #DissonantDeathMetal #DreamTheater #DutchMusicWorks #EchoesOfTheDevilSDen #EdenTrough #FearlessRecords #FindingLoveInStrangePlaces #FrenchMetal #Fym #Genesis #GermanMetal #Gojira #Haken #Hardcore #HellsHeadbangers #Integrity #InternationalMetal #KarmaCollision #KillswitchEngage #KingsX #Kreator #LaTangenteLabel #ListenableRecords #Manetherean #Mastodon #Matrass #May24 #MelodicBlackMetal #Merihem #Nails #PainOfSalvation #Parfaxitas #PinkFloyd #Polyphia #PostHardcore #Powerglove #PreHistoricAnimals #ProgressiveMetal #Punk #Queen #Review #Reviews #Saidan #SelfReleased #Sinmara #Slidhr #Sodom #Strychnos #SufferingHour #SwedishMetal #SystemShock #TechnicalDeathMetal #TechnicalMetal #TerminalNation #TerraturPossessions #TesseracT #TheMosaic #TheTroopsOfDoom #TotalDissonanceWorship #UKMetal #Undergang #USMetal #VisualKillTheBlossomingOfPsychoticDepravity #WeaverOfTheBlackMoon #WhoredomeRife #Wormlust #Yes

Humanity Defiled – Deficient Breed Review

By Kenstrosity

Belgian one-man death machine Humanity Defiled first caught my attention years ago, with their hefty 2015 death assault The Demise of the Sane. The album predated Headshrinker’s awesome Callous Indifference when it comes to chunky, nasty death metal that tackles dark, deeply personal, and sensitive subjects—especially as it pertains to matters of mental health. However, that Headshrinker record helped filled the void left by Humanity Defiled in the nine years since The Demise of the Sane dropped. Still, I find myself as ravenous as ever for new Humanity Defiled material. The only question left is whether or not follow-up Deficient Breed contains sufficient sustenance to satiate my ferocious appetite!

On the surface, nothing about Humanity Defiled’s sound changed significantly since 2015, and that’s a good thing. Bolt Thrower grooves and Asphyx stomps still heavily inform Deficient Breed’s thirty-five minutes of meaty, depressive death metal. Mastermind Iwein Denayer stays true to his mission of no-frills, no-nonsense metal, with nary a moment left to things outside crushing riffs, thunderous rhythmic heft, and myriad classic songwriting approaches. That adhesion to long-standing formulas runs the risk of leaving Humanity Defiled with no unique voice in the instrumentation department. At the same time, however, Deficient Breed’s dark and hopeless nature helps provide a more distinct character that differentiates this material from the standard fare. A mix of tempos and rhythms ranging from funereal death marches to quick, thrashy stampedes threatens the listener with uneven pacing, but also potentially allows Humanity Defiled to move dynamically between movements. Either way, there’s no denying Iwein understands his references and generally knows how to inject his own personality into what are essentially variations on classic death metal templates.

Proof that what ain’t broken needs no fixing, opening stompers “March of the Euthanized” and “Genocide Stigmata” march Deficient Breed into an alternate universe where Bolt Thrower and Scalpture wrote about societal collapse, mental illness, and the worst aspects of human nature, and it works. These riffs, while somewhat derivative, contain the weight of the world within them, and Humanity Defiled wields them well. A greater presence of hardcore passion, delivered in part via guest vocals by Frank Boone on the first track, further invigorate this opening act. Other album highlights like the fiery “Unyielding Opposition” and the vicious “Empire of One” prove that Iwein can handle serious speed just as deftly as he does his preferred mid-paced trot. These two blistering numbers in particular are especially important in the track order as well, as they break up the doom and gloom of slower, thicker cuts such as “Blackened Mind” and “Trigger Warning.” In other areas, touches of screamo and hardcore punk vocals strengthen tracks like “Blackened Mind” and “The Curse of the Self” (courtesy of Pieter Dewulf and Davy Beeckman plus Angelo Atmani, respectively), contributing something more emotionally charged and compelling than the typical death metal blueprint allows.

Yet, Humanity Defiled doesn’t escape the shadow of their inspirations as stealthily as they did on The Demise of the Sane. While the elemental building blocks of this record’s riffs, solos, and drumming worship the ways of olde just as devoutly as previous output did, more vivacious deviations from that influence—whether that be a discordant flourish here or a unexpected beat transition there—elevated past material further than what’s present on Deficient Breed. “March of the Euthanized,” “The Curse of the Self,” and “Erode and Dissolve,” for example, make for easily headbangable tunes, but as I listen to them I find myself asking where that compelling, singular Humanity Defiled flavor went. Feeling the need to ask that question takes me out of immersion and makes it difficult to commit these songs to memory. Meanwhile, the bloated “Trigger Warning” sounds tired and weary, moving with a lackluster energy that saps a lot of momentum away from the rest of the record. Deficient Breed may be well organized overall, but these drawbacks cause thirty-five minutes of admirably stripped-down death to feel like a difficult fifty minutes, particularly on focused spins.

Ultimately, your mileage may vary with Deficient Breed. I still believe Humanity Defiled have the chops to deliver something greater than cookie-cutter, old school death metal, but Deficient Breed doesn’t always meet that standard. If you aren’t too picky, or if you have a strong preference for this style, Deficient Breed should hit the spot. Otherwise, there’s a chance Deficient Breed might not be sufficient to slake your thirst.

Rating: Mixed.
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self Released
Websites: facebook.com/humanitydefiled | humanitydefiled.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: May 31st, 2024

#25 #2024 #Asphyx #BelgianMetal #BoltThrower #DeathMetal #DeficientBreed #Headshrinker #HumanityDefiled #May24 #OSDM #Review #Reviews #Scalpture #SelfRelease

Divided – Light Will Shine Review

By Dear Hollow

Throughout the tapestry of shimmering tones, weighty riffs, and desperate fry vocals in Light Will Shine, a common thread courses, of vulnerability and tension. Belgium’s Divided offers a style not unlike Glassing, Amenra, and Envy, with crystalline melodies colliding with unforgiving heaviness, with a distinctly unfriendly guitar harmonic approach. However, it professes a soundtrack for anxiety, recalling the tragically short-lived Sufferer project in its depiction of inner struggle and striving for better. Light Will Shine offers no easy answers, but is a voice through the storm.

Influenced by acts like Chat Pile, Brutus, and Psychonaut, the four-piece fuses post-metal, screamo, post-hardcore, and noise rock in shifting sands of beauty and ugliness alike. Its debut Light Will Shine is built around jagged movements and melodies with nowhere to go, drummer/vocalist Pepjin Vandaele the backbone in his manic Converge’s Ben Koller-esque percussion, complemented by Staf Walschap’s pulsing bass, and vocal pendulum between vicious fries and grungy Chino Moreno drawls, while guitarists Jelle Rouquart and Torre Maertens bouncing between sprawling chugs, scathing tremolo, and delicate plucking. Nothing feels hardened and jaded, but a bleeding heart plastered firmly onto Divided’s sleeve. Light Will Shine is far from perfect, but for its unique and captivating portrayal of mental struggle, it is worth a look.

Most notable about Light Will Shine is Divided’s use of melody, which for the purposes of its anxiety-induced theme, make good use of the unsettling. Tracks like “Cinder,” “Remaining in Limbo,” and “The Warped Loop” utilize this fluid and warbling use of upper fretboard magic to create dissonant harmonies alongside a punchy trainwreck of mathy-meets-post riffs that squawk and clatter alongside vicious shrieks in ways that recall Oceana’s Birtheater. The solid blend of the subdued and the dissonant pervade tracks like “The City Slowly Undresses,” in which piano and flute collide in wonky ways with stinging melodies across its slow crescendo, or closer “Sleepers,” which relies on a nearly midwestern emo plucking motion recalling American Football warped viciously by these crashing melodics and a noise rock Melvins-esque vocal approach. The melodies that are utilized here toe an odd line between intentionally disconcerting and unintentionally awkward, but best utilized in nine-minute epic “The Vicious Circle,” they swarm and bleed but find no resolution.

When the melodies turn questionable and the songwriting becomes jarring, occurrences which admittedly happen often, Light Will Shine takes on an awkward feel. Tracks like “Days Undone (So Long)” and “Remaining in Limbo” feature these melodic snafus, which feel too derailing to be intentional, while the shifting passages in “The Warped Loop” fall short periodically. At its worst, Divided can be too unpredictable in its shifting passages (the jolting whiplash in “The Vicious Loop” is both allegorical and simply too much) and then too repetitive in its ambition (the extremely repetitive ending of “Sleepers” nearly renders the track a detractor). In spite of an interesting and wonky blend of manic shrieks and grungy drawls, Vandaele’s vocals are simply too loud in the mix, while the latter croons feel awkward in tracks like “The Vicious Loop” or “Days Undone (So Long).”

I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression this past year, and much of Divided’s sound feels like the crushing fear of insufficiency or imposter syndrome that I’ve realized has plagued me most of my life. In particular, the slowly unwinding melodics of “The City Slowly Undresses” nearly made me jump out of my skin with how close it felt to be stuck in my head. In this way, Light Will Shine feels like a masterwork. However, in the odd fusion of post-metal, screamo, post-hardcore, and noise rock, the quartet regularly toes the line between masterful avant-garde composers and those who have just picked up a guitar for the first time. Divided’s sound will feel like a broken home to some and a broken speaker to others – which is perhaps the greatest conundrum and compliment I can offer for this piece of art.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: ~190 kb/s mp3
Label: Dunk! Records
Websites: dividedbelgium.bandcamp | facebook.com/dividedbelgium
Releases Worldwide: March 29th, 2024

#2024 #30 #Amenra #AmericanFootball #BelgianMetal #Brutus #ChatPile #Converge #Deftones #Divided #DunkRecords #Envy #Glassing #LightWillShine #Mar24 #Melvins #NoiseRock #PostHardcore #PostMetal #Psychonaut #Review #Reviews #Screamo

Acathexis – Immerse Review

By Kenstrosity

At the risk of making light of a serious situation, I’ve been on the struggle bus as of late. My mental health nosedived somewhere in late February, for what reason I still don’t comprehend, and it’s been a trial and a tribulation to claw my way back out. Needless to say, during this difficult time, I haven’t been the best person to be around—lashing out against even the smallest jest, forgetfully neglecting my friends when they message to check on me, and isolating myself from everyone and everything out of shame and embarrassment. You’d think that, in the midst of all of this, I would reach for something uplifting to compensate. Instead, I cling to emotionally dour and violently depressive material, as it brings me a specific and rare kind of catharsis. Serendipity bore a cosmic kindness to me, then, when it delivered international depressive atmoblack project Acathexis’ long-awaited sophomore record, Immerse, into my clutches.

After the immensely affecting self-titled debut released at the end of 2018, Acathexis rapidly became one of my more closely watched new acts. A dream team of Mare Cognitum‘s Jacob Buczarski (drums), Déhà (guitars, bass), and Los Males del Mundo’s Dany Tee (vocals, lyrics) comprises the talent, and melancholic black metal rife with weeping melodies and misty atmosphere makes up the content. Long-form epics are the band’s bread and butter, with expansive, tremolo-laden tidal waves crashing down on the listener with devastating impact. If you’re looking for straightforward riffing and pumping rhythms, you won’t find them here. You will, on the other hand, find a trove of soaring leads, smooth blasts and double-bass runs, and a cavalcade of soul-rending wails, heart-wrenching rasps, and subterranean roars.

Over the course of these four songs, spanning across fifty minutes, the wonderfully collaborative nature of Immerse becomes crystal clear. At every turn, a gorgeous, shimmering lead blooms from the record’s core, bearing a conjoined Déhà/Mare Cognitum imprint that lights up the spine (“Dreams of Scorched Mirrors”). Coursing through the record’s veins, an undercurrent of Silver Knife‘s scathing character coalesces with Slow‘s woeful melody that, in tandem with the aforementioned shimmers, forms a lush and deeply immersive soundscape which handily lives up to the album’s title (“Adrift in Endless Tides,” “A Slow, Weary Wind”). Dany’s simply unhinged delivery not only marks him as one of the best vocalists in the style, but also often elevates these songs to a higher tier, particularly when unleashing high-pitched howls that seem to contain the tortured cries of a thousand haunted spirits (“Dreams of Scorched Mirrors,” “The Other”).

Much of my critique for Immerse falls under the same umbrella as that garnered by the majority of atmospheric black metal: overly strict adherence to limited songwriting formulas. Primarily invigorated by Jacob’s brilliant rhythmic pacing and percussive creativity (note the cymbal acrobatics in “Adrift in Endless Tides”), Déhà’s uncanny merger of each player’s respective sounds into deeply affecting melodies and sweeps, and Dany’s haunting voice, a lot of this material unfortunately presents a generic interpretation of the genre. Songwriting frameworks that challenge the genre standards or move the field into new territory just don’t occur over much of Immerse’s runtime. Instead, Acathexis banked on emotional immersion, immaculate detailing, and expressive delivery from each performer to bolster material that otherwise feels homogenous (“The Other”) or sounds repetitive (“A Slow, Weary Wind”). This is a risky move when playing a style maligned for its lack of dynamics or creativity, and while Acathexis just pulled it off this time, I worry that future efforts won’t fare so well without more concerted effort allotted to robust, evolving songwriting approaches.

Despite my misgivings regarding the continued application of a well-worn set of songwriting structures in this genre, there are precious few I trust more to build it well than those in Acathexis. Immerse doesn’t challenge any standards, and certainly won’t convert any naysayers. At the same time, I consider this record a beautiful, harrowing piece of depressive music. Moreover, it came to me at just the right time to strike at the heart. So, even though Immerse isn’t the game-changing record it could’ve been, that tempered bond I formed with it ensures that even after the fog lifts and the sun shines again, I’ll come back to Immerse without reservation.

Rating: Good!
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Labels: Amor Fati Productions (Physical) | Extraconscious Records (Digital)
Websites: facebook.com/acathexisband | acathexis.bandcamp.com
Releases worldwide: March 20th, 2024

#2024 #30 #Acathexis #AmericanMetal #AmorFatiProductions #ArgentinianMetal #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BelgianMetal #BlackMetal #Déhà #DepressiveBlackMetal #DSBM #ExtraconsciousRecords #Immerse #InternationalMetal #LosMalesDelMundo #Mar24 #MareCognitum #Review #Reviews #SilverKnife #Slow

Aborted – Vault of Horrors Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

Finally, two reviews of an Aborted release by those who actually understand and appreciate these Belgian death grinders. Seriously, does anyone around here even know how to Aborted? Nothing to worry about now. Ferox and Grier are here to ensure you never rest for the next forty minutes of your life as Sven and crew tear your asshole up through your taint. For twenty fucking years, Aborted has been making a name for themselves in the brutal grindcore world without ever wavering from their style. Perhaps that’s why some of you idiots don’t like them. Because everything sounds the same to you. But, you’re wrong.1 For damn near their entire existence, Aborted has been consistent in both content and release cadence, always ensuring ole Grier has his fix of horror-themed aggression that causes my brain to implode and my intestines to eject from my rectum.23

I know what you’re thinking: “How in the hell does Grier like Aborted?” I know. Everyone has asked it since I chose to lead this charge and give you my opinion on Aborted’s Vault of Horrors. While I do have plenty of issues with grindcore, in general, there’s something about bands like Aborted and Pig Destroyer that speaks to me. I can’t explain it because there are a lot of bands like Aborted that I just loathe. You know, like Dying Fetus.4 But I can spin an Aborted record at any time and walk away pleased and eternally exhausted at the same time. And, as one would expect, Vault of Horrors has no shortage of earhole assault and relentless tendencies. Per usual, there are plenty of guest appearances on this new release, but the band went all in, inviting a different friend to scream and rasp on every song of Vault of Horrors. This adds a touch of vocal diversity to the barrage of nightmare-inducing songs that vary from two to nearly six minutes. Buckle in, motherfuckers.

As with most Aborted records, “Dreadbringer” sets the mood with a brooding atmosphere that explodes in a constant barrage of guitars and drums. When the signature vocals arrive, a new riff charges in to wreck your fucking neck. At the midpoint, sinister sustains push to the surface, leading the song into a build that combines spurts of tech death guitar work with melodic leads and soloing. Another monstrous piece that uses building atmospheres and ferocious guitar work is “The Golgothan.” The haunting keys in the introduction push this track into sympho-death territories before some intricate, squealing guitars pierce your inner ear canal and initiate vicious headbanging. The song continues to build before coming to a screeching halt. Then, the band activates ape-shit mode as the guest vocals of Hal Microutsicos (Engulf and Blasphemous) push farther to the front than any other track. As the solos swirl around the riffs, the atmosphere continues to climb, concluding the song in a gigantic way.

As massive as these two tracks are, the biggest is closer “Malevolent Haze.” A heavenly attack of blastbeats gets this thing rolling before the real steamrolling begins. The barrage is relentless as the guitars and drums lay to waste any remaining energy you might have. The only relief comes when the song slows to knee-deep mud, dragging your pathetic corpse through the muck. But before it can get any uglier, shocking clean guitars appear, producing a beautiful and haunting atmosphere. Then, a scream cracks the sky as the melodic build intensifies. As it grows, the vocals become more and more pained and the emotion is as thick as congealed blood. It’s a fantastic song and a killer way to close the album. But of all the tracks, “Death Cult” is the most addictive. Unlike the other songs mentioned, this one strips out the building atmosphere and focuses on a hooking chorus and stellar vocal performance. Utilizing the vocal prowess of Despised Icon’s Alexandre Erian, the gnarly “death cuuuuuuuult” chorus has a special power and adds a perfect emphasis to the crushing riffage.

Of these ten tracks, the only one that doesn’t stick with me is “Naturom Demonto.” But, not because it’s bland or lifeless. After close to thirty minutes of relentless pummeling, it does little to push past its predecessors and does little to set up the massive closing track. But even that can’t hurt the outcome of Vault of Horrors. Neither does the compressed master manage to upset my listening experience. This is the kind of absolute chaos that you would say benefits from the lack of dynamics because it elevates the horror. After comparing the staying power of Vault of Horrors to the band’s other offerings, this new record might be their best since 2016’s Retrogore—providing just enough diversity in the tracklist to keep me coming back again and again. I’m not quite sure where Vault of Horrors will sit on my end-of-the-year list, but it’ll definitely be there.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: abortedmetal.bandcamp.com | goremageddon.be | facebook.com/abortedofficial
Releases Worldwide: March 15th, 2024

#2024 #40 #Aborted #BelgianMetal #Blasphemous #DeathMetal #DespisedIcon #DyingFetus #Engulf #Gindcore #Mar24 #NuclearBlastRecords #PigDestroyer #Review #Reviews #VaultOfHorrors