#blackeneddoom — Public Fediverse posts

#ThursDeath for this week is the awesome, crushing debut LP by Adelaide, Australia's CHARNEL ALTAR from 2021. This fucker is heavier than shit. It both chugs and trudges along, it's really a ride. No track is shorter than 6 minutes, and most are longer-- the first is over 8. Blackened death doom of the finest caliber. Rotting and sorrow and worms.

https://charnelaltar.bandcamp.com/album/abatement-of-the-sun

#metal #DeathMetal #AustralianMetal #AustralianBands #Adelaide #CharnelAltar #DeathDoom #DoomMetal #doom #BlackMetal #BlackenedDoom #BlackenedDeath @wendigo @HailsandAles @guffo @c0m4 @rtw @swampgas @pephorror @nnenov @AlfeeDee @umrk @Kitty @flockofnazguls

#ThursDeath for this week is the awesome, crushing debut LP by Adelaide, Australia's CHARNEL ALTAR from 2021. This fucker is heavier than shit. It both chugs and trudges along, it's really a ride. No track is shorter than 6 minutes, and most are longer-- the first is over 8. Blackened death doom of the finest caliber. Rotting and sorrow and worms.

https://charnelaltar.bandcamp.com/album/abatement-of-the-sun

#metal #DeathMetal #AustralianMetal #AustralianBands #Adelaide #CharnelAltar #DeathDoom #DoomMetal #doom #BlackMetal #BlackenedDoom #BlackenedDeath @wendigo @HailsandAles @guffo @c0m4 @rtw @swampgas @pephorror @nnenov @AlfeeDee @umrk @Kitty @flockofnazguls

Mammon's Throne – Skies of Flame
#BlackMetal #DeathMetal #Doommetal #Metal #blackeneddoom #deathdoom #deathdoommetal #doom #doommetal #melodicdoommetal #stonerdoom #Melbourne
CC BY-ND (#CreativeCommons Attribution No Derivatives) #ccmusic
https://mammonsthrone.bandcamp.com/album/skies-of-flame

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

Cult Burial – Collapse of Pattern, Reverence of Dust Review

By Thus Spoke

It has always overwhelmed me just how much music is out there, ceaselessly being recorded in studios and basements and forests, ceaselessly being promoted and released, and often sent into the AMG promo pile. There is so much more below the surface than above it, even as regards just one small subgenre. How can one possibly listen to it all, and discern greatness from mediocrity? How can bands stand out when countless others are branding themselves so similarly, making music so apparently similar? Cult Burial are one such band that I would likely never have come across were it not for this gig, despite the generally positive reception both their debut and sophomore albums received (the latter also coming from me). In that review, I highlighted what I perceived to be a distinctiveness to the band’s sound, their particular mixture of death, black, and post-metal sounding just different enough to give them an edge, minor hiccoughs notwithstanding. Then, Cult Burial was in the perfect position to capitalize on these unique strengths and refine the formula, and it is after two years in the shadows that the fruit of their labors falls into my hands.

LP 3, Collapse of Pattern, Reverence of Dust, is immediately and strikingly more imposing than its predecessor. More menacing in its melodies and more aggressive in its stronger leanings towards deathened territory, it also sounds literally sharper, with fewer instances of guitar being relegated to a background bit-part and more of them center-stage in the leading role. The music is atmospheric in a similarly echoing way, again recalling Praise the Plague, but now this atmosphere treads into the more unsettling territory accompanied by jarring chord progressions, akin to Akhlys (“Vincula,” “Vestige”), or even Blut Aus Nord (“Mire”), though decidedly less manic. This new sense of malice goes a long way toward giving Cult Burial a stronger hold on the listener, and helping them avoid the issue of image-sound incongruence that haunted Reverie of the Malignant.

What hasn’t changed about Cult Burial’s approach is their preferred compositional structure. Sticking with relatively brief song lengths, they rely on melodic and rhythmic hooks (“Aether,” “Vestige”) that keep the pace high between the atmospheric intros and interludes, rather than extended creeping builds. This risk didn’t entirely pay off in the last outing, but Collapse of Pattern sees a renewed vigor that makes songs, which pack in blackened doom and death in a signature smoky style with a more ‘conventional’ black or death metal solo or bridge, tonally fluid despite their fluctuations. The prevailing tone of meanness is a markedly more consistent and coherent than previously, and this now shines through most strongly where Cult Burial turn to the tangled zone of dissonance in their extreme metal leanings, which takes the humming chords and minor melodies—not to mention the pleasantly audible purr of the bass—into a realm of creepy that’s thoroughly, spine-tinglingly enjoyable (“Vincula,” “Enthrall,” “Beseech”).

The main problem is that, however cool or chilling various passages are—and they are—Collapse of Pattern never does enough to fully arrest its audience. A seeming impatience to get to the next bit compounds paradoxically with a reluctance to ever progress beyond the inevitable switch from slower intro to faster heaviness. It makes the music feel underdeveloped in two senses. On the one hand, by lack of builds and by not actually possessing the presence they tease with an overly mysterious and surface-level atmospheric aura—marked by heavy resonance. On the other hand, by the near absence of dynamism in the yet fickle and multifaceted compositions, which sway from an ominous death-doom into a distinctly tech-death acerbity. While Cult Burial made strides when it comes to improving their overall vibe—as in, there’s no longer a strange tonal separation between different songs as there was before—their music indicates that they still feel unsure of their identity. Simultaneously trying too hard to sound dark and huge and frightening, and not trying hard enough to craft a convincingly solid presence that would justify it.

Collapse of Pattern feels like one step forward, two steps back. On every listen, I am drawn in by opener “Vincula”‘s malevolently stomping, eerily moaning refrain. By the time I have reached its back half, however, it no longer grips me; songs bleed together and dissolve. Cult Burial may still have something great in them, but until they dive fully into the void or write some killer riffs, they are doomed to fade into obscurity.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: cultburial.com | cultburial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cultburial
Released Worldwide: September 5th, 2025

#25 #2025 #AKhlys #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BlackenedDoom #BlutAusNord #CollapseOfPatternReverenceOfDust #CultBurial #DeathMetal #PraiseThePlague #Review #Reviews #SelfReleases #Sep25 #UKMetal

Cult Burial – Collapse of Pattern, Reverence of Dust Review

By Thus Spoke

It has always overwhelmed me just how much music is out there, ceaselessly being recorded in studios and basements and forests, ceaselessly being promoted and released, and often sent into the AMG promo pile. There is so much more below the surface than above it, even as regards just one small subgenre. How can one possibly listen to it all, and discern greatness from mediocrity? How can bands stand out when countless others are branding themselves so similarly, making music so apparently similar? Cult Burial are one such band that I would likely never have come across were it not for this gig, despite the generally positive reception both their debut and sophomore albums received (the latter also coming from me). In that review, I highlighted what I perceived to be a distinctiveness to the band’s sound, their particular mixture of death, black, and post-metal sounding just different enough to give them an edge, minor hiccoughs notwithstanding. Then, Cult Burial was in the perfect position to capitalize on these unique strengths and refine the formula, and it is after two years in the shadows that the fruit of their labors falls into my hands.

LP 3, Collapse of Pattern, Reverence of Dust, is immediately and strikingly more imposing than its predecessor. More menacing in its melodies and more aggressive in its stronger leanings towards deathened territory, it also sounds literally sharper, with fewer instances of guitar being relegated to a background bit-part and more of them center-stage in the leading role. The music is atmospheric in a similarly echoing way, again recalling Praise the Plague, but now this atmosphere treads into the more unsettling territory accompanied by jarring chord progressions, akin to Akhlys (“Vincula,” “Vestige”), or even Blut Aus Nord (“Mire”), though decidedly less manic. This new sense of malice goes a long way toward giving Cult Burial a stronger hold on the listener, and helping them avoid the issue of image-sound incongruence that haunted Reverie of the Malignant.

What hasn’t changed about Cult Burial’s approach is their preferred compositional structure. Sticking with relatively brief song lengths, they rely on melodic and rhythmic hooks (“Aether,” “Vestige”) that keep the pace high between the atmospheric intros and interludes, rather than extended creeping builds. This risk didn’t entirely pay off in the last outing, but Collapse of Pattern sees a renewed vigor that makes songs, which pack in blackened doom and death in a signature smoky style with a more ‘conventional’ black or death metal solo or bridge, tonally fluid despite their fluctuations. The prevailing tone of meanness is a markedly more consistent and coherent than previously, and this now shines through most strongly where Cult Burial turn to the tangled zone of dissonance in their extreme metal leanings, which takes the humming chords and minor melodies—not to mention the pleasantly audible purr of the bass—into a realm of creepy that’s thoroughly, spine-tinglingly enjoyable (“Vincula,” “Enthrall,” “Beseech”).

The main problem is that, however cool or chilling various passages are—and they are—Collapse of Pattern never does enough to fully arrest its audience. A seeming impatience to get to the next bit compounds paradoxically with a reluctance to ever progress beyond the inevitable switch from slower intro to faster heaviness. It makes the music feel underdeveloped in two senses. On the one hand, by lack of builds and by not actually possessing the presence they tease with an overly mysterious and surface-level atmospheric aura—marked by heavy resonance. On the other hand, by the near absence of dynamism in the yet fickle and multifaceted compositions, which sway from an ominous death-doom into a distinctly tech-death acerbity. While Cult Burial made strides when it comes to improving their overall vibe—as in, there’s no longer a strange tonal separation between different songs as there was before—their music indicates that they still feel unsure of their identity. Simultaneously trying too hard to sound dark and huge and frightening, and not trying hard enough to craft a convincingly solid presence that would justify it.

Collapse of Pattern feels like one step forward, two steps back. On every listen, I am drawn in by opener “Vincula”‘s malevolently stomping, eerily moaning refrain. By the time I have reached its back half, however, it no longer grips me; songs bleed together and dissolve. Cult Burial may still have something great in them, but until they dive fully into the void or write some killer riffs, they are doomed to fade into obscurity.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: cultburial.com | cultburial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cultburial
Released Worldwide: September 5th, 2025

#25 #2025 #AKhlys #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BlackenedDoom #BlutAusNord #CollapseOfPatternReverenceOfDust #CultBurial #DeathMetal #PraiseThePlague #Review #Reviews #SelfReleases #Sep25 #UKMetal

Subterranean Disposition – Individuation
#BlackMetal #Metal #atmosphericblackmetal #blackeneddoom #deathdoom #doommetal #funeraldoom #jazz #postrock #sludgemetal #Amadora
CC BY-NC (#CreativeCommons Attribution Non Commercial) #ccmusic
https://hypnoticdirgerecords.bandcamp.com/album/individuation

Mizmor & Hell – Alluvion Review

By Carcharodon

A.L.N. (a.k.a. Mizmor) and M.S.W. (Hell) inhabit similar territories: geographically, the Pacific Northwest; sonically, abrasive, droning, blackened doom; and, perhaps critically, emotionally, all claustrophobic, tortured heft. Although they’ve collaborated live before, Alluvion, which refers to the sedimentary deposits left by a body of flowing water, is their first studio outing together. Billed as a map to aid the listener in navigating through bouts of psychic distress, the prone form on the cover could easily be me by the time I’m finished with this review, crushed beneath the weight of Mizmor & Hell’s compositions, corpse abandoned on that mountainside rising from the promo sump. I’ve been interested in anything Mizmor has put out since Yodh, and enjoyed his last full-length, Prosaic, quite a bit. However, the last Mizmor collaboration that I dived into (with Andrew Black) left me cold. I went into Alluvion expecting a more familiar experience, given the similarities with Hell, which suggested that I might be in for a more predictable, if more emotionally exhausting, ride. So what will Alluvion leave behind in its wake?

If you are familiar with Mizmor and Hell’s past works, and can sort of picture what a collaboration focused on psychic distress might sound like, BOOM, you’re right! Alluvion is exactly that. Dense, doom-laden oppression, nuzzling up against moments of surprising delicacy and tenderness, with the latter kicking things off on opener, “Begging to be Lost.” The first two minutes of strings-only tranquillity hint at the rumbling blackened sludge that follows. With both men contributing vocals and guitars (while Hell handles bass, and Mizmor drums), when the hammer does fall, it falls hard. Noting the descriptor that Mizmor & Hell intended Alluvion to act as a means of navigating mental health struggles, I see the shifting moods of the record as mapping onto the ebb and flow of these challenges, from anvil-like oppression, through devastating chaos into exhausted moments of clarity, that border on hopeful. All this and more is packed into the 16 minutes and change of “Begging to be Lost” alone. Something resembling respite is offered by the percussion- and vocal-free “Vision I,” its distorted, reverberating drone cathartic in its simplicity.

As Mizmor & Hell move into standout piece “Pandemonium’s Throat,” the pattern of “Begging to be Lost” is repeated but in amplified form. The gentle opening notes bear hints of distortion, the droning guitar lines offer a rawer, blackened edge, while the vocals (Hell’s, I think) take on a more desperate, rasping edge. When all hell breaks loose—no pun intended—around the seven-minute mark, we find ourselves nudging into stripped back, heavily distorted black metal, with a frantic energy that is almost second wave in its intensity. Going into Alluvion, I’d braced myself for an epic on the scale of Yodh or Cairn, both of which hover around the hour mark. In fact, this comes in a surprisingly compact package, clocking in at just 39 minutes. But nevertheless, and perhaps because of the harrowing journey the listener is taken on, by the time we reach closer, “Vision II,” there’s an exhausted and drawn feel to Mizmor & Hell’s work. It’s that feeling of full-body tiredness we’ve all known at one point or another, where every part of you feels heavy and drained.

All that said, Alluvion isn’t quite as traumatic, nor as soul-destroying, as I’d braced myself for from this Mizmor & Hell combination. There are two reasons for this. First, “Vision I” and “Vision II,” which act as a mid-album interlude and outro,1 respectively. These serve to both offer up some respite for the listener—leaving to one side the rather unsettling, wordless voices that swirl and clack around you at the end of “Vision II”—but also to significantly lessen the complexity of the album. Comprising over a quarter of Alluvion, they are, on the one hand, welcome for making it an easier listen, and, on the other, a hindrance for somewhat lessening its impact. The other reason for the lower trauma rating is the production. Only managing a DR4, this simply isn’t as rich and textured as I’d hoped it would be, and as I think it needs to be, to fully achieve its creators’ mission.

Alluvion promised a lot and delivered quite a bit, but not the whole package. Its highs, which are basically all of “Pandemonium’s Throat,” are great, building the oppressive tension before unleashing raw catharsis. However, the rest of the compositions from Mizmor & Hell are good but no more. I’m not quite sure how much of this to pin on the expectations that I carried into Alluvion, and which I suspect many who know the solo work by each of these men will also carry. It’s honest, raw, and good, but the fact is I walked away from it relatively unscathed, where I expected to be ruined, face down beside a deserted path.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Gilead Media
Websites: mizmor.bandcamp.com | loweryourhead.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Alluvion #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #BlackMetal #BlackenedDoom #BlackenedNoise #Doom #DoomMetal #Drone #GileadMedia #MizmorHell #Noise #Review #Reviews #Sludge

Mizmor & Hell – Alluvion Review

By Carcharodon

A.L.N. (a.k.a. Mizmor) and M.S.W. (Hell) inhabit similar territories: geographically, the Pacific Northwest; sonically, abrasive, droning, blackened doom; and, perhaps critically, emotionally, all claustrophobic, tortured heft. Although they’ve collaborated live before, Alluvion, which refers to the sedimentary deposits left by a body of flowing water, is their first studio outing together. Billed as a map to aid the listener in navigating through bouts of psychic distress, the prone form on the cover could easily be me by the time I’m finished with this review, crushed beneath the weight of Mizmor & Hell’s compositions, corpse abandoned on that mountainside rising from the promo sump. I’ve been interested in anything Mizmor has put out since Yodh, and enjoyed his last full-length, Prosaic, quite a bit. However, the last Mizmor collaboration that I dived into (with Andrew Black) left me cold. I went into Alluvion expecting a more familiar experience, given the similarities with Hell, which suggested that I might be in for a more predictable, if more emotionally exhausting, ride. So what will Alluvion leave behind in its wake?

If you are familiar with Mizmor and Hell’s past works, and can sort of picture what a collaboration focused on psychic distress might sound like, BOOM, you’re right! Alluvion is exactly that. Dense, doom-laden oppression, nuzzling up against moments of surprising delicacy and tenderness, with the latter kicking things off on opener, “Begging to be Lost.” The first two minutes of strings-only tranquillity hint at the rumbling blackened sludge that follows. With both men contributing vocals and guitars (while Hell handles bass, and Mizmor drums), when the hammer does fall, it falls hard. Noting the descriptor that Mizmor & Hell intended Alluvion to act as a means of navigating mental health struggles, I see the shifting moods of the record as mapping onto the ebb and flow of these challenges, from anvil-like oppression, through devastating chaos into exhausted moments of clarity, that border on hopeful. All this and more is packed into the 16 minutes and change of “Begging to be Lost” alone. Something resembling respite is offered by the percussion- and vocal-free “Vision I,” its distorted, reverberating drone cathartic in its simplicity.

As Mizmor & Hell move into standout piece “Pandemonium’s Throat,” the pattern of “Begging to be Lost” is repeated but in amplified form. The gentle opening notes bear hints of distortion, the droning guitar lines offer a rawer, blackened edge, while the vocals (Hell’s, I think) take on a more desperate, rasping edge. When all hell breaks loose—no pun intended—around the seven-minute mark, we find ourselves nudging into stripped back, heavily distorted black metal, with a frantic energy that is almost second wave in its intensity. Going into Alluvion, I’d braced myself for an epic on the scale of Yodh or Cairn, both of which hover around the hour mark. In fact, this comes in a surprisingly compact package, clocking in at just 39 minutes. But nevertheless, and perhaps because of the harrowing journey the listener is taken on, by the time we reach closer, “Vision II,” there’s an exhausted and drawn feel to Mizmor & Hell’s work. It’s that feeling of full-body tiredness we’ve all known at one point or another, where every part of you feels heavy and drained.

All that said, Alluvion isn’t quite as traumatic, nor as soul-destroying, as I’d braced myself for from this Mizmor & Hell combination. There are two reasons for this. First, “Vision I” and “Vision II,” which act as a mid-album interlude and outro,1 respectively. These serve to both offer up some respite for the listener—leaving to one side the rather unsettling, wordless voices that swirl and clack around you at the end of “Vision II”—but also to significantly lessen the complexity of the album. Comprising over a quarter of Alluvion, they are, on the one hand, welcome for making it an easier listen, and, on the other, a hindrance for somewhat lessening its impact. The other reason for the lower trauma rating is the production. Only managing a DR4, this simply isn’t as rich and textured as I’d hoped it would be, and as I think it needs to be, to fully achieve its creators’ mission.

Alluvion promised a lot and delivered quite a bit, but not the whole package. Its highs, which are basically all of “Pandemonium’s Throat,” are great, building the oppressive tension before unleashing raw catharsis. However, the rest of the compositions from Mizmor & Hell are good but no more. I’m not quite sure how much of this to pin on the expectations that I carried into Alluvion, and which I suspect many who know the solo work by each of these men will also carry. It’s honest, raw, and good, but the fact is I walked away from it relatively unscathed, where I expected to be ruined, face down beside a deserted path.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Gilead Media
Websites: mizmor.bandcamp.com | loweryourhead.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Alluvion #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #BlackMetal #BlackenedDoom #BlackenedNoise #Doom #DoomMetal #Drone #GileadMedia #MizmorHell #Noise #Review #Reviews #Sludge

Mizmor & Hell – Alluvion Review

By Carcharodon

A.L.N. (a.k.a. Mizmor) and M.S.W. (Hell) inhabit similar territories: geographically, the Pacific Northwest; sonically, abrasive, droning, blackened doom; and, perhaps critically, emotionally, all claustrophobic, tortured heft. Although they’ve collaborated live before, Alluvion, which refers to the sedimentary deposits left by a body of flowing water, is their first studio outing together. Billed as a map to aid the listener in navigating through bouts of psychic distress, the prone form on the cover could easily be me by the time I’m finished with this review, crushed beneath the weight of Mizmor & Hell’s compositions, corpse abandoned on that mountainside rising from the promo sump. I’ve been interested in anything Mizmor has put out since Yodh, and enjoyed his last full-length, Prosaic, quite a bit. However, the last Mizmor collaboration that I dived into (with Andrew Black) left me cold. I went into Alluvion expecting a more familiar experience, given the similarities with Hell, which suggested that I might be in for a more predictable, if more emotionally exhausting, ride. So what will Alluvion leave behind in its wake?

If you are familiar with Mizmor and Hell’s past works, and can sort of picture what a collaboration focused on psychic distress might sound like, BOOM, you’re right! Alluvion is exactly that. Dense, doom-laden oppression, nuzzling up against moments of surprising delicacy and tenderness, with the latter kicking things off on opener, “Begging to be Lost.” The first two minutes of strings-only tranquillity hint at the rumbling blackened sludge that follows. With both men contributing vocals and guitars (while Hell handles bass, and Mizmor drums), when the hammer does fall, it falls hard. Noting the descriptor that Mizmor & Hell intended Alluvion to act as a means of navigating mental health struggles, I see the shifting moods of the record as mapping onto the ebb and flow of these challenges, from anvil-like oppression, through devastating chaos into exhausted moments of clarity, that border on hopeful. All this and more is packed into the 16 minutes and change of “Begging to be Lost” alone. Something resembling respite is offered by the percussion- and vocal-free “Vision I,” its distorted, reverberating drone cathartic in its simplicity.

As Mizmor & Hell move into standout piece “Pandemonium’s Throat,” the pattern of “Begging to be Lost” is repeated but in amplified form. The gentle opening notes bear hints of distortion, the droning guitar lines offer a rawer, blackened edge, while the vocals (Hell’s, I think) take on a more desperate, rasping edge. When all hell breaks loose—no pun intended—around the seven-minute mark, we find ourselves nudging into stripped back, heavily distorted black metal, with a frantic energy that is almost second wave in its intensity. Going into Alluvion, I’d braced myself for an epic on the scale of Yodh or Cairn, both of which hover around the hour mark. In fact, this comes in a surprisingly compact package, clocking in at just 39 minutes. But nevertheless, and perhaps because of the harrowing journey the listener is taken on, by the time we reach closer, “Vision II,” there’s an exhausted and drawn feel to Mizmor & Hell’s work. It’s that feeling of full-body tiredness we’ve all known at one point or another, where every part of you feels heavy and drained.

All that said, Alluvion isn’t quite as traumatic, nor as soul-destroying, as I’d braced myself for from this Mizmor & Hell combination. There are two reasons for this. First, “Vision I” and “Vision II,” which act as a mid-album interlude and outro,1 respectively. These serve to both offer up some respite for the listener—leaving to one side the rather unsettling, wordless voices that swirl and clack around you at the end of “Vision II”—but also to significantly lessen the complexity of the album. Comprising over a quarter of Alluvion, they are, on the one hand, welcome for making it an easier listen, and, on the other, a hindrance for somewhat lessening its impact. The other reason for the lower trauma rating is the production. Only managing a DR4, this simply isn’t as rich and textured as I’d hoped it would be, and as I think it needs to be, to fully achieve its creators’ mission.

Alluvion promised a lot and delivered quite a bit, but not the whole package. Its highs, which are basically all of “Pandemonium’s Throat,” are great, building the oppressive tension before unleashing raw catharsis. However, the rest of the compositions from Mizmor & Hell are good but no more. I’m not quite sure how much of this to pin on the expectations that I carried into Alluvion, and which I suspect many who know the solo work by each of these men will also carry. It’s honest, raw, and good, but the fact is I walked away from it relatively unscathed, where I expected to be ruined, face down beside a deserted path.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Gilead Media
Websites: mizmor.bandcamp.com | loweryourhead.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Alluvion #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #BlackMetal #BlackenedDoom #BlackenedNoise #Doom #DoomMetal #Drone #GileadMedia #MizmorHell #Noise #Review #Reviews #Sludge

Mizmor & Hell – Alluvion Review

By Carcharodon

A.L.N. (a.k.a. Mizmor) and M.S.W. (Hell) inhabit similar territories: geographically, the Pacific Northwest; sonically, abrasive, droning, blackened doom; and, perhaps critically, emotionally, all claustrophobic, tortured heft. Although they’ve collaborated live before, Alluvion, which refers to the sedimentary deposits left by a body of flowing water, is their first studio outing together. Billed as a map to aid the listener in navigating through bouts of psychic distress, the prone form on the cover could easily be me by the time I’m finished with this review, crushed beneath the weight of Mizmor & Hell’s compositions, corpse abandoned on that mountainside rising from the promo sump. I’ve been interested in anything Mizmor has put out since Yodh, and enjoyed his last full-length, Prosaic, quite a bit. However, the last Mizmor collaboration that I dived into (with Andrew Black) left me cold. I went into Alluvion expecting a more familiar experience, given the similarities with Hell, which suggested that I might be in for a more predictable, if more emotionally exhausting, ride. So what will Alluvion leave behind in its wake?

If you are familiar with Mizmor and Hell’s past works, and can sort of picture what a collaboration focused on psychic distress might sound like, BOOM, you’re right! Alluvion is exactly that. Dense, doom-laden oppression, nuzzling up against moments of surprising delicacy and tenderness, with the latter kicking things off on opener, “Begging to be Lost.” The first two minutes of strings-only tranquillity hint at the rumbling blackened sludge that follows. With both men contributing vocals and guitars (while Hell handles bass, and Mizmor drums), when the hammer does fall, it falls hard. Noting the descriptor that Mizmor & Hell intended Alluvion to act as a means of navigating mental health struggles, I see the shifting moods of the record as mapping onto the ebb and flow of these challenges, from anvil-like oppression, through devastating chaos into exhausted moments of clarity, that border on hopeful. All this and more is packed into the 16 minutes and change of “Begging to be Lost” alone. Something resembling respite is offered by the percussion- and vocal-free “Vision I,” its distorted, reverberating drone cathartic in its simplicity.

As Mizmor & Hell move into standout piece “Pandemonium’s Throat,” the pattern of “Begging to be Lost” is repeated but in amplified form. The gentle opening notes bear hints of distortion, the droning guitar lines offer a rawer, blackened edge, while the vocals (Hell’s, I think) take on a more desperate, rasping edge. When all hell breaks loose—no pun intended—around the seven-minute mark, we find ourselves nudging into stripped back, heavily distorted black metal, with a frantic energy that is almost second wave in its intensity. Going into Alluvion, I’d braced myself for an epic on the scale of Yodh or Cairn, both of which hover around the hour mark. In fact, this comes in a surprisingly compact package, clocking in at just 39 minutes. But nevertheless, and perhaps because of the harrowing journey the listener is taken on, by the time we reach closer, “Vision II,” there’s an exhausted and drawn feel to Mizmor & Hell’s work. It’s that feeling of full-body tiredness we’ve all known at one point or another, where every part of you feels heavy and drained.

All that said, Alluvion isn’t quite as traumatic, nor as soul-destroying, as I’d braced myself for from this Mizmor & Hell combination. There are two reasons for this. First, “Vision I” and “Vision II,” which act as a mid-album interlude and outro,1 respectively. These serve to both offer up some respite for the listener—leaving to one side the rather unsettling, wordless voices that swirl and clack around you at the end of “Vision II”—but also to significantly lessen the complexity of the album. Comprising over a quarter of Alluvion, they are, on the one hand, welcome for making it an easier listen, and, on the other, a hindrance for somewhat lessening its impact. The other reason for the lower trauma rating is the production. Only managing a DR4, this simply isn’t as rich and textured as I’d hoped it would be, and as I think it needs to be, to fully achieve its creators’ mission.

Alluvion promised a lot and delivered quite a bit, but not the whole package. Its highs, which are basically all of “Pandemonium’s Throat,” are great, building the oppressive tension before unleashing raw catharsis. However, the rest of the compositions from Mizmor & Hell are good but no more. I’m not quite sure how much of this to pin on the expectations that I carried into Alluvion, and which I suspect many who know the solo work by each of these men will also carry. It’s honest, raw, and good, but the fact is I walked away from it relatively unscathed, where I expected to be ruined, face down beside a deserted path.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Gilead Media
Websites: mizmor.bandcamp.com | loweryourhead.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Alluvion #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #BlackMetal #BlackenedDoom #BlackenedNoise #Doom #DoomMetal #Drone #GileadMedia #MizmorHell #Noise #Review #Reviews #Sludge

It's the beginnings of Sludge Metal Fall and it's also Black Metal Monday, so I present to you this BANGER of an album that just came out a couple days ago, 'Upon the Darkest Shores' by Grim Dawn.

It has black metal elements here and there but it's also sludgy and doomy as fuck: https://cursedmonk.bandcamp.com/album/upon-the-darkest-shores

#metal #sludge #SludgeMetal #doom #DoomMetal #GrimDawn #BlackenedDoom #BlackenedSludge #BlackMetalMonday

It's the beginnings of Sludge Metal Fall and it's also Black Metal Monday, so I present to you this BANGER of an album that just came out a couple days ago, 'Upon the Darkest Shores' by Grim Dawn.

It has black metal elements here and there but it's also sludgy and doomy as fuck: https://cursedmonk.bandcamp.com/album/upon-the-darkest-shores

#metal #sludge #SludgeMetal #doom #DoomMetal #GrimDawn #BlackenedDoom #BlackenedSludge #BlackMetalMonday

It's the beginnings of Sludge Metal Fall and it's also Black Metal Monday, so I present to you this BANGER of an album that just came out a couple days ago, 'Upon the Darkest Shores' by Grim Dawn.

It has black metal elements here and there but it's also sludgy and doomy as fuck: https://cursedmonk.bandcamp.com/album/upon-the-darkest-shores

#metal #sludge #SludgeMetal #doom #DoomMetal #GrimDawn #BlackenedDoom #BlackenedSludge #BlackMetalMonday

It's the beginnings of Sludge Metal Fall and it's also Black Metal Monday, so I present to you this BANGER of an album that just came out a couple days ago, 'Upon the Darkest Shores' by Grim Dawn.

It has black metal elements here and there but it's also sludgy and doomy as fuck: https://cursedmonk.bandcamp.com/album/upon-the-darkest-shores

#metal #sludge #SludgeMetal #doom #DoomMetal #GrimDawn #BlackenedDoom #BlackenedSludge #BlackMetalMonday

It's the beginnings of Sludge Metal Fall and it's also Black Metal Monday, so I present to you this BANGER of an album that just came out a couple days ago, 'Upon the Darkest Shores' by Grim Dawn.

It has black metal elements here and there but it's also sludgy and doomy as fuck: https://cursedmonk.bandcamp.com/album/upon-the-darkest-shores

#metal #sludge #SludgeMetal #doom #DoomMetal #GrimDawn #BlackenedDoom #BlackenedSludge #BlackMetalMonday