#blaze-of-perdition — Public Fediverse posts

It’s impressive how some artists work in multiple bands at once, and more impressive how common this seems to be. Often, the fact that an act is a side-project of or also features a particular musician is the sole reason you check them out, conferring a degree of quality or prestige. Piołun is one of these bands, a duo comprised of Mānbryne and ex-Blaze of Perdition guitarist Łukasz Barański—who here also handles vocals—and relatively unknown drummer Vitor. Like those groups, Piołun is black metal in a style that has grown increasingly associated with the Polish scene in particular—melodic but understated, enriched with a pinch of atmosphere and a slightly gritty vibe. The band’s debut, Rzeki Goryczy, was met with general acclaim, and it should therefore delight fans that Exolvuntur follows closely in its footsteps, albeit aiming to be “more dynamic and melodic.” In fact, this sophomore is exemplary in many ways, but not all of them are complimentary.

Exolvuntur is simple on the surface, sticking to unflowery tremolos and uncomplicated tempos, occasionally employing group1 vocals for roaring emphasis. Particular turns of instrumental phrase echo those of Mānbryne (“Moribunda,” “Hiems”), while others carry a more Sethian tone (“Manifest-kresu,” “Czas”). But Piołun don’t ape anyone so much as draw from a common well of spiritedness. More overtly than on the debut, they hit upon the familiar hazily-layered riffing and minimalistic melodic scales of second-wave-cum-meloblack in general, and structure their compositions uniformly around the recurrence of a singular uplifting high guitar line. This allows them to centre their spirit, which vitriolic vocal delivery and the occasional nods to the epic in their key refrains demonstrate they have an abundance of. Spirit and familiarity only go so far, however.

Piołun know how to write a smart rhythmic hook and a melancholic lead. Repeated stop-starts (“Sierpniowy-brzask,” “Hiems”), an offbeat to the descent of a tremolo (“Manifest-kresu”), and emphatic push-pulls between vocal delivery and guitar line switching (“Moribunda”) make for a consistently spunky energy. It pairs well with Exolvuntur’s best refrains, which feel mournful in that vaguely medieval sense only the trvest black metal is capable of (“Manifest-kresu,” “Sierpniowy-brzask,” “Proba-Sznura”). Exolvuntur is rather more uplifting than harrowing, filled with layered, iterated melodies (“Sierpniowy-brzask”) and anthemic, emphatic roars (“Czas,” “Kolo-zycia”). This applies to forward-launching blazers (“Manifest-kresu,” “Kolo-zycia”), rhythmic fillers (“Czas), and mellow bridgers (“Sierpniowy-brzask,” “Moribunda”) alike. It’s nothing you haven’t heard before but like a favourite hoodie or comforting tv show you’ve watched so many times, you know every line, there’s something endearing and warming about this album—strange as that would seem given its overt heaviness and darkness.

Yet Exolvuntur’s charms mask a simplicity that approaches shallowness. These shimmering lead riffs that are good in isolation and already familiar in an abstract sense are recycled with barely a semitone of difference across the record (“Sierpniowy-brzask,” “Proba-Sznura,” “Hiems”); the remainder feel like filler. Operating between a handful of notes that could constitute a theoretical “average” for this style of meloblack, their cadence, execution, and frequency is not only predictable but so void of imagination that they make every movement feel trite and their emotionality manufactured. It forms a key part of the problematic repetitiousness that plagues Exolvuntur, where tempos suffer from a similar banality, mechanically moving between a tripping march and nondescript blastbeat of some form, killing the fire of a stinging lead and with nary a fill or rollover to be heard. “Heard” is key here, because the drums somehow sound jarringly clacky at one moment and anaemically muffled everywhere else—like a bongo in a phone booth—which makes potential drum gymnastics very difficult to distinguish. At the heights of speed and intensity, vocals and much of the guitars are swallowed by this mire such that everyone is jostling for position, and passionate snarls feel unintentionally strained rather than punchy.

Piołun did not need to fall back on triteness. Not only are there sweeping refrains (“Proba-Sznura”) and passionate arcs (“Manifest-kresu”) that demonstrate a flair for the dramatic and deep, their very debut Rzeki Goryczy does too. The duo exercised restraint in keeping Exolvuntur below 40 minutes, but that restraint seems to have bled into the songwriting, in a genre and proclaimed take on it that necessitates at least a little excess—in emotion, heaviness, speed, or complexity. Exolvuntur is a slice of nostalgia for some, a comforting wash of approximately vicious black metal, but it shows how great a distance there is in evoking a sound and using it to evoke anything else.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Malignant Voices
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Available Worldwide: May 22nd, 2026

It’s impressive how some artists work in multiple bands at once, and more impressive how common this seems to be. Often, the fact that an act is a side-project of or also features a particular musician is the sole reason you check them out, conferring a degree of quality or prestige. Piołun is one of these bands, a duo comprised of Mānbryne and ex-Blaze of Perdition guitarist Łukasz Barański—who here also handles vocals—and relatively unknown drummer Vitor. Like those groups, Piołun is black metal in a style that has grown increasingly associated with the Polish scene in particular—melodic but understated, enriched with a pinch of atmosphere and a slightly gritty vibe. The band’s debut, Rzeki Goryczy, was met with general acclaim, and it should therefore delight fans that Exolvuntur follows closely in its footsteps, albeit aiming to be “more dynamic and melodic.” In fact, this sophomore is exemplary in many ways, but not all of them are complimentary.

Exolvuntur is simple on the surface, sticking to unflowery tremolos and uncomplicated tempos, occasionally employing group1 vocals for roaring emphasis. Particular turns of instrumental phrase echo those of Mānbryne (“Moribunda,” “Hiems”), while others carry a more Sethian tone (“Manifest-kresu,” “Czas”). But Piołun don’t ape anyone so much as draw from a common well of spiritedness. More overtly than on the debut, they hit upon the familiar hazily-layered riffing and minimalistic melodic scales of second-wave-cum-meloblack in general, and structure their compositions uniformly around the recurrence of a singular uplifting high guitar line. This allows them to centre their spirit, which vitriolic vocal delivery and the occasional nods to the epic in their key refrains demonstrate they have an abundance of. Spirit and familiarity only go so far, however.

Piołun know how to write a smart rhythmic hook and a melancholic lead. Repeated stop-starts (“Sierpniowy-brzask,” “Hiems”), an offbeat to the descent of a tremolo (“Manifest-kresu”), and emphatic push-pulls between vocal delivery and guitar line switching (“Moribunda”) make for a consistently spunky energy. It pairs well with Exolvuntur’s best refrains, which feel mournful in that vaguely medieval sense only the trvest black metal is capable of (“Manifest-kresu,” “Sierpniowy-brzask,” “Proba-Sznura”). Exolvuntur is rather more uplifting than harrowing, filled with layered, iterated melodies (“Sierpniowy-brzask”) and anthemic, emphatic roars (“Czas,” “Kolo-zycia”). This applies to forward-launching blazers (“Manifest-kresu,” “Kolo-zycia”), rhythmic fillers (“Czas), and mellow bridgers (“Sierpniowy-brzask,” “Moribunda”) alike. It’s nothing you haven’t heard before but like a favourite hoodie or comforting tv show you’ve watched so many times, you know every line, there’s something endearing and warming about this album—strange as that would seem given its overt heaviness and darkness.

Yet Exolvuntur’s charms mask a simplicity that approaches shallowness. These shimmering lead riffs that are good in isolation and already familiar in an abstract sense are recycled with barely a semitone of difference across the record (“Sierpniowy-brzask,” “Proba-Sznura,” “Hiems”); the remainder feel like filler. Operating between a handful of notes that could constitute a theoretical “average” for this style of meloblack, their cadence, execution, and frequency is not only predictable but so void of imagination that they make every movement feel trite and their emotionality manufactured. It forms a key part of the problematic repetitiousness that plagues Exolvuntur, where tempos suffer from a similar banality, mechanically moving between a tripping march and nondescript blastbeat of some form, killing the fire of a stinging lead and with nary a fill or rollover to be heard. “Heard” is key here, because the drums somehow sound jarringly clacky at one moment and anaemically muffled everywhere else—like a bongo in a phone booth—which makes potential drum gymnastics very difficult to distinguish. At the heights of speed and intensity, vocals and much of the guitars are swallowed by this mire such that everyone is jostling for position, and passionate snarls feel unintentionally strained rather than punchy.

Piołun did not need to fall back on triteness. Not only are there sweeping refrains (“Proba-Sznura”) and passionate arcs (“Manifest-kresu”) that demonstrate a flair for the dramatic and deep, their very debut Rzeki Goryczy does too. The duo exercised restraint in keeping Exolvuntur below 40 minutes, but that restraint seems to have bled into the songwriting, in a genre and proclaimed take on it that necessitates at least a little excess—in emotion, heaviness, speed, or complexity. Exolvuntur is a slice of nostalgia for some, a comforting wash of approximately vicious black metal, but it shows how great a distance there is in evoking a sound and using it to evoke anything else.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Malignant Voices
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Available Worldwide: May 22nd, 2026

Stellar Blight – Eventide: Synod of the Dying Stars Review

By Thus Spoke

Contact form promos are a high-risk, high-reward option when it comes to choosing a review candidate. The unsigned artist(s) behind the enthusiastic prose could be overselling an undercooked bedroom project, or understatedly presenting shockingly good music that makes you want to shake record labels and say “sign these guys, goddammit!” Stellar Blight, happily, are of the latter breed, though this fact is unsurprising. Comprised of the vocalist from Mānbryne (and Blaze of Perdition); the guitarist from Shodan; and the drummer from Owls Woods Graves, the trio have plenty of experience. With their debut, Eventide: Synod of the Dying Stars, they blend each of their primary styles: taking mystique, progressiveness, and punky energy from them, respectively, and creating a dynamic, raucous, and characterful blackened heavy metal that’s hard to forget.

Eventide is defined by its spiritedness; something that hits all the harder for the way Stellar Blight set the scene. First track “The Portent,” uses its time to create genuine anticipation for the rest of the album with a gallant melody that gives way to rolling drumbeats and chants. The smoke has barely cleared before the band launch into white-hot ripper and instant Heavy Moves Heavy frontrunner “Doves into Serpents”. This dynamic opening duo provide a taste of the flavours to come, elements and quirks that will recur over the remaining runtime. Riffs that enter with a satisfying slide and croon with assuredness (“Second Death,” “Stellar Blight”); group chants (“World Wide Woe”) and call-response lyric delivery (“Second Death”) black ‘n’ roll swagger meeting coercively snappy d-beats (“Weaponised Compassion”), and sulky black metal sway (“Maggots in Awe,” “Unsung”). Throughout it all, Stellar Blight maintain their identity, whether snarling in defiance or murmuring in brooding black moods—always consistently fierce, and with barely a shred of atmosphere anywhere in sight.

This ferocity peaks at moments on Eventide when the band pull the most electric aspects of their stylistic pool into one thrilling package. Wailing leads, soaked in a heavy metal richness, warbling alongside a tempo you feel in your bones, all three members roaring in unison and you grinning like a maniac (“Doves into Serpents,” “Second Death,” “Stellar Blight”). Or, taking it down a gear, folky—acoustic even—strumming weaving through ballad-like steadiness, chants backing up the blackened narration of a beautiful, but very trve sort of ballad (“Maggots in Awe”). And even outside of these passages, Stellar Blight sprinkles in spiky off-beats, smooth, slidy solos, and infectiously fun gang vocals into an ostensibly black metal template, much like fruit, nuts, and chocolate chips in the generously filled brownie batter of addictive heavy music they have crafted.1 It culminates in a viciousness devoid of malevolence, a brazenness entirely unpretentious, which carries the spirit, if not the letter of traditional black and heavy metal, and all while feeling fresh, thanks to Stellar Blight’s creative interpretation and execution.

If Stellar Blight could sustain their highest quality, they would be unstoppable, but as it is, they stumble a little. The overall pace literally begins to slow over the album’s back half, beyond the sinister and mournful “Maggots in Awe,” which justifies its tone change with an anthemic feel that sounds like Seth and Mānbryne mashed together. The weakest cuts, “Unsung,” and “Sisyphean Prestige,” follow back-to-back, and eat away at the exhilaration created by the prior material. Their melodies are comparatively unsubstantial, and disconcertingly major in key; the bite of the snarls weaker, and the chanting less inspiring; the tempos milder. Closer “Weaponised Compassion” makes up for some of this deficit, but it lacks the commanding presence highlights like “Stellar Blight” or “Doves into Serpents” have in droves, and its movements are less interesting versions of the better songs’ themes. There’s also instrumental “Eventide” sitting between it and “Sisyphean Prestige,” which is in itself good, and probably contains the best solo guitar of the lot, but at this point, it’s hard not to resent what feels like stalling before Stellar Blight get back on their game.

Gripes aside, there’s no denying that Stellar Blight are working with something very cool. It might need some refining, but the way they are already integrating black and heavy metal is distinctive and dynamic. With a consistent voice, the delivery of an all-around fun listening experience (even at the lower points), and two songs in contention for Heavy Moves Heavy, Eventide was a high-reward choice for me. Now we just have to wait and see what Stellar Blight do next.

Rating: Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 13th, 2025

#2025 #30 #BlackMetal #BlazeOfPerdition #DeathMetal #EventideSynodOfTheDyingStars #HeavyMetal #Jun25 #Mānbryne #OwlsWoodsGraves #PolishMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleases #Seth #Shodan #StellarBlight

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#MetalSucks
Sh*t That Comes Out Today – April 19, 2024
Featuring releases from High On Fire, Melvins, and My Dying Bride. The post Sh*t That Comes Out Today –

https://www.metalsucks.net/2024/04/19/sht-that-comes-out-today-april-19-2024/

#AntichristSiegeMachine #VengeanceOfEternalFire #HighOnFire #ComethTheStorm #Melvins #TarantulaHeart #MyDyingBride #AMortalBinding #SeeYouSpaceCowboy #CoupDeGrace #BillyMorrison #TheMorrisonProject #BlazeOfPerdition #Upharsin #CouchSlut #YouCouldDoItTonight #Dayseeker #Replica

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#MetalSucks
Sh*t That Comes Out Today – April 19, 2024
Featuring releases from High On Fire, Melvins, and My Dying Bride. The post Sh*t That Comes Out Today –

https://www.metalsucks.net/2024/04/19/sht-that-comes-out-today-april-19-2024/

#AntichristSiegeMachine #VengeanceOfEternalFire #HighOnFire #ComethTheStorm #Melvins #TarantulaHeart #MyDyingBride #AMortalBinding #SeeYouSpaceCowboy #CoupDeGrace #BillyMorrison #TheMorrisonProject #BlazeOfPerdition #Upharsin #CouchSlut #YouCouldDoItTonight #Dayseeker #Replica

#weeklylastfm for week 33 of 2021

The chart came out very satisfying this week... alright I admit I completed that traffic light pattern with #Grima, #Urfaust & #BlazeOfPerdition after the first two circle covers aligned

Top weekly artists for Halbeard
1. Grima (27 plays)
2. #Aoratos (24 plays)
3. #Abigor (19 plays)
4. #Nagelfar (15 plays)
5. #Laoch (13 plays)
6. #Viharukous (13 plays)
7. Au-Dessus (12 plays)
8. Urfaust (12 plays)
48 different artists in this time period

„Hollow gaze of his tired eyes
Focused, on the mirrors on the walls
Drowning in reflections' endless maze
Restless, always searching for the I

Through the dusty libraries
Of ancestral wisdom
Through the riddles
Of suspected thruths
Diving
Into the black and back again
With hope there is no hope
Into the light to see there is none“

#lyrics by #blazeofperdition