#black-sabbath — Public Fediverse posts

Green Lung has always flirted with metal’s ponderous weight and classic rock’s sly melodicism, uniting two musical forces I love. Before I dove into metal whole hog, I spent years soaking up the classics. Rush and Boston were in constant rotation alongside Black Sabbath and Metallica, looping endlessly on my 5-disc CD stereo through high school and college. Gradually, my listening gave way to more extreme acts as I succumbed to what my mother endearingly calls ‘devil music.’ Despite my unflinching commitment to placing my immortal soul in peril, I just can’t resist acts that channel the music I grew up listening to, and London’s Green Lung sticks this balance expertly. Hypnotic grooves, bouncing riffs, and heartfelt vocals run rampant across Green Lung’s fourth album Necropolitan, invoking the rumble of ecclesiastical dynamite and ghoulish glee. But are Necropolitan’s enchanting atmospheres and retro pleasures enough to wreck your Nec to?

Since forming in 2017, Green Lung has celebrated nature and the ways of olde, often through a lens of freewheeling paganism. Their earliest material saturated sylvan rituals with fuzz and thunder, ensconcing songs in the Green haze of stoner metal. Black Harvest redirected attention to elements of occult rituals recalling 1970s horror films like The Wicker Man and The Blood on Satan’s Claw, placing a greater emphasis on hooky riffs and John Wright’s organ, while This Heathen Land adopted a backdrop rooted in history that found Green Lung wallowing in doomier arrangements. Necropolitan hews much closer to Black Harvest, crafting a bevy of heavy earworms and begetting their catchiest and most immediate platter to date. Conceptually, Necropolitan finds Green Lung drawing inspiration from the sprawling necropolis grounds built during the Victorian era to resolve the calculus of too many bodies and too few burial plots. The upkeep of these gardens collapsed in the 1960s, and since then Earth has slowly reclaimed and transformed these gravesites into pockets of wilderness, incidentally furnishing Necropolitan with a fascinating intersection of nature and the occult.

Reference points abound on Necropolitan, although Green Lung always adheres to their own guiding sonic principles. Vocalist Tom Templar’s voice strongly echoes Tobias Forge’s, and there’s also a smidge of Ian Gillan’s upper register as well,1 albeit with punky snottiness. Speaking of Gillan, “Necropolitan Line” is the best song Deep Purple never wrote (and might be my “Mambo No. 5”), and “Evil in This House” strikes me as a more upbeat musical take on Sabbath’s “Electric Funeral.” “Oxymandias” oozes with a swagger that reminds me of Clutch, “Black Magic Radio” marries the pop-forward sensibilities of Ghost with the heft of Black Sabbath or Cathedral, and closer “To the Gallows Born” begins with gorgeous harmonization reminiscent of “The Wellerman”2 before dipping into Wytch Hazel levels of lilting beauty.

Throughout Necropolitan Green Lung dispenses sharp performances in a lean package that offers enough to satisfy yet leaves me wanting more. Templar’s voice smolders as he directs listeners through Necropolitan’s lush landscapes. “Dance to the Grave” and “Black Magic Radio” mesh his top-notch croon with elephantine riffs while “Necropolitan Line” and “To the Gallows Born” gush with Templar’s sweltering magnetism. Guitarist Scott Black wields his fuzz tone with surgical precision, hitting swells and transitions with impeccable instincts and sexy tones (the solo into the bridge on “Oxymandias,” for example) while John Wright’s organ grinding ignites melodies with fabulous vintage verve. Meanwhile, bassist Joseph Ghast unchains a terrific low-end showcase with audible yet unobtrusive obbligatos (“Necropolitan Line,” “To the Gallows Born”) and drummer Matt Wiseman looses frills and fills with measured gusto (“Black Magic Radio,” “Evil in this House”). In all, everyone in Green Lung brings their A-game to Necropolitan.

Everything about Necropolitan leave me wanting more, and I can’t stop listening to the damned thing. At forty-one minutes, it’s an irresistibly easy listen and has quickly become one of my most played albums this year. The guitar-and-keys interplay is exquisite, the grooves bowl me over with unholy spirit, and the choruses make a fool of me as I try to sing along. Admittedly, “Together in Death” lacks the indispensability of other tracks, and “Dance to the Grave” and “Black Magic Radio” blur together a tad one after the other, but these are minor cavils in what is one of the best damn stoner-adjacent releases this year. So don’t let Green Lung and their latest wares pass you by—hop a rail down “Necropolitan Line” and breathe in the Greatness.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

Great records offer something deeper than what glimmers on the surface, whether conceptual, musical, emotional or otherwise. Without at least one of these tethers, connecting with an album beyond a cursory listen presents significant challenges. Yet the best music, the kind that transforms listening into an experience, extends multiple threads with which to affix. It’s no wonder, then, that I resonate with Sigh’s oeuvre with such soul-plumbing profundity. Their concepts pierce with poignant potency, their compositions astound with instrumental mélanges that seem unthinkable on paper but coalesce exquisitely in fact, and Sigh’s main man, Mirai Kawashima radiates a charismatic earnestness within his music that I find utterly charming. Now, thirteenth album Goh-Ka is here, and once again we must cast a critical eye toward one of metal’s most singular entities. After thirty-six years, can Tokyo’s wonderfully weird export still Goh the distance?

Many of Sigh’s albums flaunt high concepts, and their recent output has centered around psychological and mortal themes that prove morbidly fascinating. In Somniphobia explores the opaque limbo between the waking world and sleep, Hangman’s Hymn details the final thoughts of a sinful man leading up to his execution, and Shiki got personal for Kawashima, where he allegorizes the inevitability of death with the four seasons. Goh-Ka serves as a natural progression from Shiki, its conceptual inspirations drawn from Kuso-zu, ‘a series of Buddhist illustrations depicting the nine stages of a human body’s decomposition after death, created to encourage meditation on the impermanence of life.’1 Although Goh-Ka’s premise of decomposition and the ephemeral nature of existence might seem like it requires a dour soundtrack, Kawashima & Co. instead manifest these themes with competing currents of ebullience and pensiveness.

Sigh sounds as vibrant as ever on Goh-Ka, welding together an eclectic amalgam of instruments and styles that guides listeners through a kaleidoscopic haze of one of their lushest sonicscapes to date. Flitting melodies and crushing riffs crash and congeal on “Anzenshokon,” which starts with layered, modulated vocals recalling Black Sabbath’s “Planet Caravan,” supported by flute and tribal drumming. Then come the implacable riffs and Mirai’s harsh rasps, inciting a stimulating duality as the track progresses. “Jinmenjushin” exhibits another enthralling back-and-forth modality, beginning with a creepy crawl reminiscent of Slayer’s “South of Heaven”2 that quickly ramps up the speed into a hyper-melodic chorus lightly recalling Imperial Circus Dead Decadence. The performances on Goh-Ka astound with stunning muscle and violent grace, where myriad ideas weave together into a gorgeous tapestry of avant-garde black metal. Mike Heller’s contributions underpin all the tracks with impossibly deft rhythms and grooves, squeezing in rabid fusillades one moment and swinging into a subtle shuffle the next (“Kuso-shi 1, 2, and 3,” “Jigoku-Zoshi 1: Unkamusho”). Ginzaburo Abe lays down some striking shamisen (“Unputenpu,” “Kuso-shi 1, 2, and 3”), imbuing Goh-Ka with a tantalizing folksiness, and Mirai’s keyboards ground the record with classic hard rock heft.3

Goh-Ka unquestionably delivers conceptual and musical depth, yet it’s the emotional well I drink from deepest. Despite the macabre backdrop of death and decomposition, overwhelming doses of joy and catharsis saturate Sigh’s latest. Lead single “Unputenpu” is downright effervescent, and Mikael Åkerfeldt furnishes the perfect guest spot4 on a song that so readily evokes the psychedelic flourishes of 2010s Opeth. “Kuso-shi 4, 5, and 6” smolders with seesawing dispositions of pathos and release, electrifying me each listen with its seamless balance between the two. The latter half of “Kuso-shi 8 and 9: Mettaijakujo” likewise bubbles with an uplifting spirit even as tumultuous elements buffet the heavily synth-backed passages. By the song’s end, a satisfying finality cements the perfect capstone on an album fraught with essential moments.

Each time I spin Goh-Ka, I fall in love all over again. After thirty-six years and thirteen albums, Sigh remains unflappably equipped to slap. Their music teems with intricate layers and a boundless eccentricity that allows each release to stand on its own while always adhering to their uniquely fabulous voice. Sure, the slow fadeout from “Jinmenjushin” might stretch a tad too long and “Kuso-shi 7” feels dispensable compared to the rest, but in the end Goh-Ka leaves me in awe of the depth of Sigh’s vision and daring. If you were worried about Angry Metal Guy’s Law of Diminishing Recordings™ setting its sights on Sigh, don’t. Instead, you can rest easy knowing Sigh continues to Goh the extra mile on their best album since In Somniphobia.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Peaceville Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

...and while I am at debut albums today (Mötley Crüe, KISS and Alice Cooper), I might as well blast the most iconic and genre defining one of them all.

It's been far too long since I last listened to Black Sabbath from Black Sabbath anyhow.

🎵 Black Sabbath by Black Sabbath
💿 Black Sabbath, 1970
▶️ https://musiccloud.io/Ylp6V27i

#TomsMusic #NowPlaying #BlackSabbath

Anchored by a somber weight and deep emotional pain impacting the connective tissue binding Mastodon over the decades, Marrow Deep signals a new era for the Atlanta heavyweights. Ninth album, and first since 2021’s bloated and occasionally brilliant double opus, Hushed and Grim arrives on the back of turbulent and traumatic times. Enigmatic founding member, uber-talented axeman/vocalist, and all-round wild man Brent Hinds parted ways in tense circumstances in March twenty-twenty-five, before tragically passing away in a motorcycle accident in August of the same year. The tragedy surrounding Hinds’ premature death hangs heavily over Marrow Deep’s conception. The remaining core trio of bassist/vocalist Troy Sanders, drummer/vocalist Brann Dailor, and guitarist Bill Kelliher composed the album, fleshing out the material with fresh members, guitarist Nick Johnston and keyboardist/synth player João Nogueira. Marrow Deep exorcises tense emotional grief, and like its predecessor, pulls on the heartstrings.

Listeners who tapped out following Crack the Skye will find little here to bring them back into the fold. Following the exhaustive length of Hushed and Grim, cut down to size, Marrow Deep still sports a hefty 65-minute runtime. Peppering their progressive metal and sludge rock core with heady psych and stoner influences, alongside mellower rock and prog fare, Marrow Deep is also frequently direct and punchy. “Your Ghost Again” signals a fitting tribute to their fallen brother, anchored by urgent, driving verses, blossoming into haunting melodies, playful prog and a crushing climax. Fellow singles also fare well, such as the keyboard freakout and effective, minimalist cameo from Josh Homme (Queens of the Stone Age) on “Snakes for Dinner,” or the impressively raw, gut-wrenching Sanders vocal performance on the doomy ” Ruins,” inspired by the personal events of Hurricane Helene.

Dailor’s smooth, though divisive, melodic vocals, alongside the deceptively dynamic bellows and rough vox of Sanders, sound confident, impassioned, and familiar, while the increased integration of keys and synths enlivens the Mastodon formula, adding texture and swirling psychedelia into the sludge rock and progressive metal populating infectious, riff-driven songcraft. Heavier and more energetic than its predecessor Marrow Deep often hits with impact. Featuring a bending, genuinely heavy swagger, opener “Barbarians Blood” eventually unleashes a turbo-charged, thrashy, punk-metal groove that goes hard. Equally potent, “Poisonous Weapons” demonstrates Mastodon can still crush and destroy through dense, riffy sludge with a bitter edge. Upping the aggressive ante, Nate Newton (Converge/Cave In) and Randy Blythe (Lamb of God) lend their vocal talents to the fiery blast of “A Vampire’s Demeanor.” Elsewhere, the legendary Geezer Butler (Black Sabbath) supplies signature, tasty bass licks on the intro to the trippy, psych-leaning odyssey of “The Vanishing,” while Clutch’s Neil Fallon showcases his gruff preaching on jam-infested finale, ‘The Three Fates.” Gears shift on “Golden Spires,” sweetly balancing the album’s melodic sways and heavier surges through towering riffs and striking dynamics.

Loaded with technical and progressive flair listeners have come to expect, performances are super tight. Johnston fills the Hinds void admirably, without simply replicating his admired predecessor. A hugely competent shredder, Johnston puts his own stamp on Marrow Deep, getting a particular opportunity to exhibit his classy soloing on Marrow Deep’s more exploratory, psych and stoner heavy tunes (“The Vanishing,” “Moth and Bone,” and monolithic closer “The Three Fates”). Dailor’s drumming is as intricate and creative as ever, without overplaying his hand, and the Dailor/Sanders vocal combo sounds confident and assured. Unfortunately, Marrow Deep is saddled with a crunchy but overly clean production and compressed mastering job sapping some of the album’s sonic power. Concerning self-editing issues also surface, and while most the material lands, there are occasional lulls and plods suggesting some shrewder editing may have been required.

For all of Marrow Deep’s strengths and fresh designs, the absence of Hinds is strongly felt. Whether through his songwriting contributions or unique guitar style, which cleverly incorporated outside influences, such as bluegrass and southern rock twang, into Mastodon’s progressive sludge formula. Meanwhile, his hugely expressive, soulful soloing and unmistakable vocals feel odd to be missing; moments occur where you half expect a Hinds vocal to pop up. Gripes aside, Marrow Deep is a better album than expected considering the massive hole left by Hinds’. Credit to the remaining members and new blood for forging ahead with optimism, crafting an entertaining opus. Time will tell where Marrow Deep fits in the greater Mastodon canon. As it stands, Marrow Deep marks a rejuvenated, cathartic, nerve-poking transitional turn from Mastodon.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Lousy Stream
Label: Lorna Vista Recordings
Websites: mastodonrocks.com | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: August 28th, 2026