#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