#britishmetal — Public Fediverse posts

UK antifascist blackened death/thrash trio Tyrannus caught my attention with the be-castled cover art for their upcoming sophomore record, Mournhold. Having never listened to them prior, I gravitated towards the promise of yet another robust hybrid of styles and sounds. With bands like Antiverse and Skeletonwitch to call on as points of comparison, Tyrannus all but guarantee my appreciation. This is the kind of genre-blending that I crave on an hourly basis. Does Mournhold have the goods to satisfy my voracious needs?

Lead single “Reignfall” demonstrates that Tyrannus aren’t fucking around, boasting an adrenaline-fueled cataclysm of riffs, shreds, pummels, and roars. It is an ideal case study for what Mournhold captures, ensaring the icy raze of black, the fiery vitriol of thrash, and the swaggering aggression of death in one fell swoop. Separated from those superficial attributes, it embodies the Platonic ideal of a great metal track. And so, Tyrannus publish their infernal formula, and Mournhold’s multifaceted application of that formula brews excitement and fun at every turn. Tightly packed into 40 minutes, seven tracks tear through a blunderbuss of cool ideas, hooky motifs, and fun deviations from the expected.

Most surprising of these diversions is center cut “Flesh Eternal,” which recalls the gothic swing of Tribulation if they took the ashen path to black/thrash. A really cool song on its own, “Flesh Eternal” more importantly cements Tyrannus as versatile songwriters and shrewd album composers. It resolves the aggressive black metal scorch of the first three songs—the best of which (“Orbus Non Suffict,” “Seizing Stars”) fulfill the gap left by Skeletonwitch after Serpents Unleashed. At the same time, it sets up the second act, beautifully bisecting Mournhold’s story with something a little more rock-oriented as a palette cleanser. That brief reprieve allows me to properly prepare myself for “Reignfall.” A barnburner of devilish nature, “Reignfall” Hellrips my face clean off with speed-metal riffs, righteous dive-bomb solos, and downright ignorant grooves charred by black metal rasps. A second twist that I hoped for but dared not expect, Mournhold’s back half transitions to altogether darker and moodier spaces than the front. “Slower” and longer form compositions (“Mournhold,” “Back to Grey”) reside in those spaces, creating an expanded stage for Tyrannus’ final ideas to land and settle.

This arrangement allows listeners to bask in more instrumental noodling and melodic storytelling as Mournhold comes to a close, but the risk of drag creeps in. “Mournhold” is certainly thrashy and aggressive enough in its second half to offset that inertia, but at six-and-a-half minutes, it rubs against bloat with a cocky smirk. Closer “Back to Grey” toys that line even more salaciously, teasing attention spans to their limit at nearly eight minutes. Luckily, its classic heavy metal gallop and olde-timey meloblack charm make it hard to hate. Like many tight runtimes, though, 40 minutes suffers more noticeably when any one song overstays its welcome; Mournhold’s final couplet gently cross that threshold. Cutting a minute from each—perhaps fewer repetitions of a riff here, and trimming an intro or bridge there—would make them stronger and thus improve the whole in kind.

Mournhold doesn’t need much improving, though, to be an unqualified success. It’s a rip-roaring fun time, with a youthful personality as exuberant as it is infectious. Tyrannus improved in every aspect on the promise of their debut, refining their voice into something highly recognizable and alluring. If this is just the beginning for Tyrannus, I tremble to think of what they might accomplish on future records. That’s a later Ken problem. For now, I’m content and gunning to storm castles and slay eldritch monsters for an eternity with Mournhold. Join me!

Rating: Great!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: True Cult Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

UK antifascist blackened death/thrash trio Tyrannus caught my attention with the be-castled cover art for their upcoming sophomore record, Mournhold. Having never listened to them prior, I gravitated towards the promise of yet another robust hybrid of styles and sounds. With bands like Antiverse and Skeletonwitch to call on as points of comparison, Tyrannus all but guarantee my appreciation. This is the kind of genre-blending that I crave on an hourly basis. Does Mournhold have the goods to satisfy my voracious needs?

Lead single “Reignfall” demonstrates that Tyrannus aren’t fucking around, boasting an adrenaline-fueled cataclysm of riffs, shreds, pummels, and roars. It is an ideal case study for what Mournhold captures, ensaring the icy raze of black, the fiery vitriol of thrash, and the swaggering aggression of death in one fell swoop. Separated from those superficial attributes, it embodies the Platonic ideal of a great metal track. And so, Tyrannus publish their infernal formula, and Mournhold’s multifaceted application of that formula brews excitement and fun at every turn. Tightly packed into 40 minutes, seven tracks tear through a blunderbuss of cool ideas, hooky motifs, and fun deviations from the expected.

Most surprising of these diversions is center cut “Flesh Eternal,” which recalls the gothic swing of Tribulation if they took the ashen path to black/thrash. A really cool song on its own, “Flesh Eternal” more importantly cements Tyrannus as versatile songwriters and shrewd album composers. It resolves the aggressive black metal scorch of the first three songs—the best of which (“Orbus Non Suffict,” “Seizing Stars”) fulfill the gap left by Skeletonwitch after Serpents Unleashed. At the same time, it sets up the second act, beautifully bisecting Mournhold’s story with something a little more rock-oriented as a palette cleanser. That brief reprieve allows me to properly prepare myself for “Reignfall.” A barnburner of devilish nature, “Reignfall” Hellrips my face clean off with speed-metal riffs, righteous dive-bomb solos, and downright ignorant grooves charred by black metal rasps. A second twist that I hoped for but dared not expect, Mournhold’s back half transitions to altogether darker and moodier spaces than the front. “Slower” and longer form compositions (“Mournhold,” “Back to Grey”) reside in those spaces, creating an expanded stage for Tyrannus’ final ideas to land and settle.

This arrangement allows listeners to bask in more instrumental noodling and melodic storytelling as Mournhold comes to a close, but the risk of drag creeps in. “Mournhold” is certainly thrashy and aggressive enough in its second half to offset that inertia, but at six-and-a-half minutes, it rubs against bloat with a cocky smirk. Closer “Back to Grey” toys that line even more salaciously, teasing attention spans to their limit at nearly eight minutes. Luckily, its classic heavy metal gallop and olde-timey meloblack charm make it hard to hate. Like many tight runtimes, though, 40 minutes suffers more noticeably when any one song overstays its welcome; Mournhold’s final couplet gently cross that threshold. Cutting a minute from each—perhaps fewer repetitions of a riff here, and trimming an intro or bridge there—would make them stronger and thus improve the whole in kind.

Mournhold doesn’t need much improving, though, to be an unqualified success. It’s a rip-roaring fun time, with a youthful personality as exuberant as it is infectious. Tyrannus improved in every aspect on the promise of their debut, refining their voice into something highly recognizable and alluring. If this is just the beginning for Tyrannus, I tremble to think of what they might accomplish on future records. That’s a later Ken problem. For now, I’m content and gunning to storm castles and slay eldritch monsters for an eternity with Mournhold. Join me!

Rating: Great!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: True Cult Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

UK antifascist blackened death/thrash trio Tyrannus caught my attention with the be-castled cover art for their upcoming sophomore record, Mournhold. Having never listened to them prior, I gravitated towards the promise of yet another robust hybrid of styles and sounds. With bands like Antiverse and Skeletonwitch to call on as points of comparison, Tyrannus all but guarantee my appreciation. This is the kind of genre-blending that I crave on an hourly basis. Does Mournhold have the goods to satisfy my voracious needs?

Lead single “Reignfall” demonstrates that Tyrannus aren’t fucking around, boasting an adrenaline-fueled cataclysm of riffs, shreds, pummels, and roars. It is an ideal case study for what Mournhold captures, ensaring the icy raze of black, the fiery vitriol of thrash, and the swaggering aggression of death in one fell swoop. Separated from those superficial attributes, it embodies the Platonic ideal of a great metal track. And so, Tyrannus publish their infernal formula, and Mournhold’s multifaceted application of that formula brews excitement and fun at every turn. Tightly packed into 40 minutes, seven tracks tear through a blunderbuss of cool ideas, hooky motifs, and fun deviations from the expected.

Most surprising of these diversions is center cut “Flesh Eternal,” which recalls the gothic swing of Tribulation if they took the ashen path to black/thrash. A really cool song on its own, “Flesh Eternal” more importantly cements Tyrannus as versatile songwriters and shrewd album composers. It resolves the aggressive black metal scorch of the first three songs—the best of which (“Orbus Non Suffict,” “Seizing Stars”) fulfill the gap left by Skeletonwitch after Serpents Unleashed. At the same time, it sets up the second act, beautifully bisecting Mournhold’s story with something a little more rock-oriented as a palette cleanser. That brief reprieve allows me to properly prepare myself for “Reignfall.” A barnburner of devilish nature, “Reignfall” Hellrips my face clean off with speed-metal riffs, righteous dive-bomb solos, and downright ignorant grooves charred by black metal rasps. A second twist that I hoped for but dared not expect, Mournhold’s back half transitions to altogether darker and moodier spaces than the front. “Slower” and longer form compositions (“Mournhold,” “Back to Grey”) reside in those spaces, creating an expanded stage for Tyrannus’ final ideas to land and settle.

This arrangement allows listeners to bask in more instrumental noodling and melodic storytelling as Mournhold comes to a close, but the risk of drag creeps in. “Mournhold” is certainly thrashy and aggressive enough in its second half to offset that inertia, but at six-and-a-half minutes, it rubs against bloat with a cocky smirk. Closer “Back to Grey” toys that line even more salaciously, teasing attention spans to their limit at nearly eight minutes. Luckily, its classic heavy metal gallop and olde-timey meloblack charm make it hard to hate. Like many tight runtimes, though, 40 minutes suffers more noticeably when any one song overstays its welcome; Mournhold’s final couplet gently cross that threshold. Cutting a minute from each—perhaps fewer repetitions of a riff here, and trimming an intro or bridge there—would make them stronger and thus improve the whole in kind.

Mournhold doesn’t need much improving, though, to be an unqualified success. It’s a rip-roaring fun time, with a youthful personality as exuberant as it is infectious. Tyrannus improved in every aspect on the promise of their debut, refining their voice into something highly recognizable and alluring. If this is just the beginning for Tyrannus, I tremble to think of what they might accomplish on future records. That’s a later Ken problem. For now, I’m content and gunning to storm castles and slay eldritch monsters for an eternity with Mournhold. Join me!

Rating: Great!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: True Cult Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

UK antifascist blackened death/thrash trio Tyrannus caught my attention with the be-castled cover art for their upcoming sophomore record, Mournhold. Having never listened to them prior, I gravitated towards the promise of yet another robust hybrid of styles and sounds. With bands like Antiverse and Skeletonwitch to call on as points of comparison, Tyrannus all but guarantee my appreciation. This is the kind of genre-blending that I crave on an hourly basis. Does Mournhold have the goods to satisfy my voracious needs?

Lead single “Reignfall” demonstrates that Tyrannus aren’t fucking around, boasting an adrenaline-fueled cataclysm of riffs, shreds, pummels, and roars. It is an ideal case study for what Mournhold captures, ensaring the icy raze of black, the fiery vitriol of thrash, and the swaggering aggression of death in one fell swoop. Separated from those superficial attributes, it embodies the Platonic ideal of a great metal track. And so, Tyrannus publish their infernal formula, and Mournhold’s multifaceted application of that formula brews excitement and fun at every turn. Tightly packed into 40 minutes, seven tracks tear through a blunderbuss of cool ideas, hooky motifs, and fun deviations from the expected.

Most surprising of these diversions is center cut “Flesh Eternal,” which recalls the gothic swing of Tribulation if they took the ashen path to black/thrash. A really cool song on its own, “Flesh Eternal” more importantly cements Tyrannus as versatile songwriters and shrewd album composers. It resolves the aggressive black metal scorch of the first three songs—the best of which (“Orbus Non Suffict,” “Seizing Stars”) fulfill the gap left by Skeletonwitch after Serpents Unleashed. At the same time, it sets up the second act, beautifully bisecting Mournhold’s story with something a little more rock-oriented as a palette cleanser. That brief reprieve allows me to properly prepare myself for “Reignfall.” A barnburner of devilish nature, “Reignfall” Hellrips my face clean off with speed-metal riffs, righteous dive-bomb solos, and downright ignorant grooves charred by black metal rasps. A second twist that I hoped for but dared not expect, Mournhold’s back half transitions to altogether darker and moodier spaces than the front. “Slower” and longer form compositions (“Mournhold,” “Back to Grey”) reside in those spaces, creating an expanded stage for Tyrannus’ final ideas to land and settle.

This arrangement allows listeners to bask in more instrumental noodling and melodic storytelling as Mournhold comes to a close, but the risk of drag creeps in. “Mournhold” is certainly thrashy and aggressive enough in its second half to offset that inertia, but at six-and-a-half minutes, it rubs against bloat with a cocky smirk. Closer “Back to Grey” toys that line even more salaciously, teasing attention spans to their limit at nearly eight minutes. Luckily, its classic heavy metal gallop and olde-timey meloblack charm make it hard to hate. Like many tight runtimes, though, 40 minutes suffers more noticeably when any one song overstays its welcome; Mournhold’s final couplet gently cross that threshold. Cutting a minute from each—perhaps fewer repetitions of a riff here, and trimming an intro or bridge there—would make them stronger and thus improve the whole in kind.

Mournhold doesn’t need much improving, though, to be an unqualified success. It’s a rip-roaring fun time, with a youthful personality as exuberant as it is infectious. Tyrannus improved in every aspect on the promise of their debut, refining their voice into something highly recognizable and alluring. If this is just the beginning for Tyrannus, I tremble to think of what they might accomplish on future records. That’s a later Ken problem. For now, I’m content and gunning to storm castles and slay eldritch monsters for an eternity with Mournhold. Join me!

Rating: Great!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: True Cult Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

UK antifascist blackened death/thrash trio Tyrannus caught my attention with the be-castled cover art for their upcoming sophomore record, Mournhold. Having never listened to them prior, I gravitated towards the promise of yet another robust hybrid of styles and sounds. With bands like Antiverse and Skeletonwitch to call on as points of comparison, Tyrannus all but guarantee my appreciation. This is the kind of genre-blending that I crave on an hourly basis. Does Mournhold have the goods to satisfy my voracious needs?

Lead single “Reignfall” demonstrates that Tyrannus aren’t fucking around, boasting an adrenaline-fueled cataclysm of riffs, shreds, pummels, and roars. It is an ideal case study for what Mournhold captures, ensaring the icy raze of black, the fiery vitriol of thrash, and the swaggering aggression of death in one fell swoop. Separated from those superficial attributes, it embodies the Platonic ideal of a great metal track. And so, Tyrannus publish their infernal formula, and Mournhold’s multifaceted application of that formula brews excitement and fun at every turn. Tightly packed into 40 minutes, seven tracks tear through a blunderbuss of cool ideas, hooky motifs, and fun deviations from the expected.

Most surprising of these diversions is center cut “Flesh Eternal,” which recalls the gothic swing of Tribulation if they took the ashen path to black/thrash. A really cool song on its own, “Flesh Eternal” more importantly cements Tyrannus as versatile songwriters and shrewd album composers. It resolves the aggressive black metal scorch of the first three songs—the best of which (“Orbus Non Suffict,” “Seizing Stars”) fulfill the gap left by Skeletonwitch after Serpents Unleashed. At the same time, it sets up the second act, beautifully bisecting Mournhold’s story with something a little more rock-oriented as a palette cleanser. That brief reprieve allows me to properly prepare myself for “Reignfall.” A barnburner of devilish nature, “Reignfall” Hellrips my face clean off with speed-metal riffs, righteous dive-bomb solos, and downright ignorant grooves charred by black metal rasps. A second twist that I hoped for but dared not expect, Mournhold’s back half transitions to altogether darker and moodier spaces than the front. “Slower” and longer form compositions (“Mournhold,” “Back to Grey”) reside in those spaces, creating an expanded stage for Tyrannus’ final ideas to land and settle.

This arrangement allows listeners to bask in more instrumental noodling and melodic storytelling as Mournhold comes to a close, but the risk of drag creeps in. “Mournhold” is certainly thrashy and aggressive enough in its second half to offset that inertia, but at six-and-a-half minutes, it rubs against bloat with a cocky smirk. Closer “Back to Grey” toys that line even more salaciously, teasing attention spans to their limit at nearly eight minutes. Luckily, its classic heavy metal gallop and olde-timey meloblack charm make it hard to hate. Like many tight runtimes, though, 40 minutes suffers more noticeably when any one song overstays its welcome; Mournhold’s final couplet gently cross that threshold. Cutting a minute from each—perhaps fewer repetitions of a riff here, and trimming an intro or bridge there—would make them stronger and thus improve the whole in kind.

Mournhold doesn’t need much improving, though, to be an unqualified success. It’s a rip-roaring fun time, with a youthful personality as exuberant as it is infectious. Tyrannus improved in every aspect on the promise of their debut, refining their voice into something highly recognizable and alluring. If this is just the beginning for Tyrannus, I tremble to think of what they might accomplish on future records. That’s a later Ken problem. For now, I’m content and gunning to storm castles and slay eldritch monsters for an eternity with Mournhold. Join me!

Rating: Great!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: True Cult Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

It is hard to believe that Ingested is hitting their eighth record. A band that managed to bring slam to the relative mainstream, combining the grotesque, guttural brutality of extreme music with more core-infused elements. Their previous record, The Tide of Death and Fractured Dreams, leaned a little too hard into these elements. Losing much of the slam and focusing on simplified song structures to its detriment. Their latest release, Denigration, marks the first without founding vocalist Jason Evans, someone who defined the sound of Ingested. Unfortunately for the band, the album is also marked by tumult. With the departure of Evans, his replacement was quickly outed over sexual assault allegations, and at the last minute, guitarists Sean Haynes and Andrew Virrueta took over. The album was re-tooled to replace the vocals (something I commend the band for wholeheartedly), but was something excised in the process, or is it a return to form for a band that had seemingly lost its extreme roots?

I hate to break it to you, but Denigration is an album as messy as the story behind its creation. The album starts strongly, and unfortunately enough, with what is probably its best track. Half the band screams the opening line before the song drops into an absolute blast of destructive drumming. The track is simple but effective, and contains just enough variety and speed to keep things interesting. Haynes and Virrueta do an admirable job bringing heft and technical skill to each track, but they too often devolve into the same bouncing slam riffs to the point of bleeding together. Individual songs are hard to tell apart, and while founding drummer Lyn Jeffs has always been talented, the snare production basically kills his entire performance. This is nearly St. Anger levels of snare-tragedy, and the drums aren’t the only victim; production across the record is uniformly terrible.

Denigration’s Achilles heel is its soundscape. While dynamic range isn’t necessarily a surefire sign of quality, this album has songs that go as low as a 2 on the scale. Tracks are a cacophony in the worst way; the snare is downright grating and overly loud, while the rest blends into a miasma of noise and chuggery. This is an album with so little range between individual tracks that it can feel like one long song, which is grueling for a slam record. Top this with the fact that the last-minute fill-in vocalists are clearly amateurs, especially compared to Evans, and you get an album that sounds like a debut by a young band making early mistakes. I have to imagine replacing the vocals at the last minute did serious damage to their original mix, but Ingested has a history of production issues on top of this. Combining these two has made for an album that can hurt to listen to at times.

I don’t mean to disparage the band; in fact, this was a record I was genuinely hoping would be great. I have always had a soft spot for Ingested’s unique brand of slamcore. Evans vocals are top-tier, and they were always willing to take the genre to creative places. Julia Frau’s vocals on “Ashes Lie Still,” Kirk Windstein’s epic chorus on “Another Breath,” and Josh Middleton’s on “Expect to Fail” define the band’s willingness to explore their sound. On Denigration, the guests only work to divert from the monotony between tracks; even then, their addition feels perfunctory. This doesn’t feel like the band that wrote bangers like “Misery Leech,” “Skinned and Fucked,” or “The List.” At least they are trying to emulate their slam roots with a more streamlined sound built around the classic Chug & Guttural™ combo. There will be those who find this record more palatable than Ingested’s recent deathcore-adjacent trajectory, even if the production takes crushed and curb-stomps it.

When I originally started spinning Denigration for review, numerous elements kept coming to my attention that now feel obvious, seeing how many things changed at the last minute. What should have been a creative refresh for a band that felt like it was relying a little too much on vocal talent has turned into the exact opposite. Denigration fails to bring the hooks, a key to any good slam record, while also being hamstrung by terrible production, middling vocals, and a lack of creativity. Hopefully, Ingested can come back stronger from all this and make the great album I know they are capable of, but all Denigration did was send me straight to the band’s better records.

Rating: Bad
DR: 3| Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

It is hard to believe that Ingested is hitting their eighth record. A band that managed to bring slam to the relative mainstream, combining the grotesque, guttural brutality of extreme music with more core-infused elements. Their previous record, The Tide of Death and Fractured Dreams, leaned a little too hard into these elements. Losing much of the slam and focusing on simplified song structures to its detriment. Their latest release, Denigration, marks the first without founding vocalist Jason Evans, someone who defined the sound of Ingested. Unfortunately for the band, the album is also marked by tumult. With the departure of Evans, his replacement was quickly outed over sexual assault allegations, and at the last minute, guitarists Sean Haynes and Andrew Virrueta took over. The album was re-tooled to replace the vocals (something I commend the band for wholeheartedly), but was something excised in the process, or is it a return to form for a band that had seemingly lost its extreme roots?

I hate to break it to you, but Denigration is an album as messy as the story behind its creation. The album starts strongly, and unfortunately enough, with what is probably its best track. Half the band screams the opening line before the song drops into an absolute blast of destructive drumming. The track is simple but effective, and contains just enough variety and speed to keep things interesting. Haynes and Virrueta do an admirable job bringing heft and technical skill to each track, but they too often devolve into the same bouncing slam riffs to the point of bleeding together. Individual songs are hard to tell apart, and while founding drummer Lyn Jeffs has always been talented, the snare production basically kills his entire performance. This is nearly St. Anger levels of snare-tragedy, and the drums aren’t the only victim; production across the record is uniformly terrible.

Denigration’s Achilles heel is its soundscape. While dynamic range isn’t necessarily a surefire sign of quality, this album has songs that go as low as a 2 on the scale. Tracks are a cacophony in the worst way; the snare is downright grating and overly loud, while the rest blends into a miasma of noise and chuggery. This is an album with so little range between individual tracks that it can feel like one long song, which is grueling for a slam record. Top this with the fact that the last-minute fill-in vocalists are clearly amateurs, especially compared to Evans, and you get an album that sounds like a debut by a young band making early mistakes. I have to imagine replacing the vocals at the last minute did serious damage to their original mix, but Ingested has a history of production issues on top of this. Combining these two has made for an album that can hurt to listen to at times.

I don’t mean to disparage the band; in fact, this was a record I was genuinely hoping would be great. I have always had a soft spot for Ingested’s unique brand of slamcore. Evans vocals are top-tier, and they were always willing to take the genre to creative places. Julia Frau’s vocals on “Ashes Lie Still,” Kirk Windstein’s epic chorus on “Another Breath,” and Josh Middleton’s on “Expect to Fail” define the band’s willingness to explore their sound. On Denigration, the guests only work to divert from the monotony between tracks; even then, their addition feels perfunctory. This doesn’t feel like the band that wrote bangers like “Misery Leech,” “Skinned and Fucked,” or “The List.” At least they are trying to emulate their slam roots with a more streamlined sound built around the classic Chug & Guttural™ combo. There will be those who find this record more palatable than Ingested’s recent deathcore-adjacent trajectory, even if the production takes crushed and curb-stomps it.

When I originally started spinning Denigration for review, numerous elements kept coming to my attention that now feel obvious, seeing how many things changed at the last minute. What should have been a creative refresh for a band that felt like it was relying a little too much on vocal talent has turned into the exact opposite. Denigration fails to bring the hooks, a key to any good slam record, while also being hamstrung by terrible production, middling vocals, and a lack of creativity. Hopefully, Ingested can come back stronger from all this and make the great album I know they are capable of, but all Denigration did was send me straight to the band’s better records.

Rating: Bad
DR: 3| Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

It is hard to believe that Ingested is hitting their eighth record. A band that managed to bring slam to the relative mainstream, combining the grotesque, guttural brutality of extreme music with more core-infused elements. Their previous record, The Tide of Death and Fractured Dreams, leaned a little too hard into these elements. Losing much of the slam and focusing on simplified song structures to its detriment. Their latest release, Denigration, marks the first without founding vocalist Jason Evans, someone who defined the sound of Ingested. Unfortunately for the band, the album is also marked by tumult. With the departure of Evans, his replacement was quickly outed over sexual assault allegations, and at the last minute, guitarists Sean Haynes and Andrew Virrueta took over. The album was re-tooled to replace the vocals (something I commend the band for wholeheartedly), but was something excised in the process, or is it a return to form for a band that had seemingly lost its extreme roots?

I hate to break it to you, but Denigration is an album as messy as the story behind its creation. The album starts strongly, and unfortunately enough, with what is probably its best track. Half the band screams the opening line before the song drops into an absolute blast of destructive drumming. The track is simple but effective, and contains just enough variety and speed to keep things interesting. Haynes and Virrueta do an admirable job bringing heft and technical skill to each track, but they too often devolve into the same bouncing slam riffs to the point of bleeding together. Individual songs are hard to tell apart, and while founding drummer Lyn Jeffs has always been talented, the snare production basically kills his entire performance. This is nearly St. Anger levels of snare-tragedy, and the drums aren’t the only victim; production across the record is uniformly terrible.

Denigration’s Achilles heel is its soundscape. While dynamic range isn’t necessarily a surefire sign of quality, this album has songs that go as low as a 2 on the scale. Tracks are a cacophony in the worst way; the snare is downright grating and overly loud, while the rest blends into a miasma of noise and chuggery. This is an album with so little range between individual tracks that it can feel like one long song, which is grueling for a slam record. Top this with the fact that the last-minute fill-in vocalists are clearly amateurs, especially compared to Evans, and you get an album that sounds like a debut by a young band making early mistakes. I have to imagine replacing the vocals at the last minute did serious damage to their original mix, but Ingested has a history of production issues on top of this. Combining these two has made for an album that can hurt to listen to at times.

I don’t mean to disparage the band; in fact, this was a record I was genuinely hoping would be great. I have always had a soft spot for Ingested’s unique brand of slamcore. Evans vocals are top-tier, and they were always willing to take the genre to creative places. Julia Frau’s vocals on “Ashes Lie Still,” Kirk Windstein’s epic chorus on “Another Breath,” and Josh Middleton’s on “Expect to Fail” define the band’s willingness to explore their sound. On Denigration, the guests only work to divert from the monotony between tracks; even then, their addition feels perfunctory. This doesn’t feel like the band that wrote bangers like “Misery Leech,” “Skinned and Fucked,” or “The List.” At least they are trying to emulate their slam roots with a more streamlined sound built around the classic Chug & Guttural™ combo. There will be those who find this record more palatable than Ingested’s recent deathcore-adjacent trajectory, even if the production takes crushed and curb-stomps it.

When I originally started spinning Denigration for review, numerous elements kept coming to my attention that now feel obvious, seeing how many things changed at the last minute. What should have been a creative refresh for a band that felt like it was relying a little too much on vocal talent has turned into the exact opposite. Denigration fails to bring the hooks, a key to any good slam record, while also being hamstrung by terrible production, middling vocals, and a lack of creativity. Hopefully, Ingested can come back stronger from all this and make the great album I know they are capable of, but all Denigration did was send me straight to the band’s better records.

Rating: Bad
DR: 3| Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

It is hard to believe that Ingested is hitting their eighth record. A band that managed to bring slam to the relative mainstream, combining the grotesque, guttural brutality of extreme music with more core-infused elements. Their previous record, The Tide of Death and Fractured Dreams, leaned a little too hard into these elements. Losing much of the slam and focusing on simplified song structures to its detriment. Their latest release, Denigration, marks the first without founding vocalist Jason Evans, someone who defined the sound of Ingested. Unfortunately for the band, the album is also marked by tumult. With the departure of Evans, his replacement was quickly outed over sexual assault allegations, and at the last minute, guitarists Sean Haynes and Andrew Virrueta took over. The album was re-tooled to replace the vocals (something I commend the band for wholeheartedly), but was something excised in the process, or is it a return to form for a band that had seemingly lost its extreme roots?

I hate to break it to you, but Denigration is an album as messy as the story behind its creation. The album starts strongly, and unfortunately enough, with what is probably its best track. Half the band screams the opening line before the song drops into an absolute blast of destructive drumming. The track is simple but effective, and contains just enough variety and speed to keep things interesting. Haynes and Virrueta do an admirable job bringing heft and technical skill to each track, but they too often devolve into the same bouncing slam riffs to the point of bleeding together. Individual songs are hard to tell apart, and while founding drummer Lyn Jeffs has always been talented, the snare production basically kills his entire performance. This is nearly St. Anger levels of snare-tragedy, and the drums aren’t the only victim; production across the record is uniformly terrible.

Denigration’s Achilles heel is its soundscape. While dynamic range isn’t necessarily a surefire sign of quality, this album has songs that go as low as a 2 on the scale. Tracks are a cacophony in the worst way; the snare is downright grating and overly loud, while the rest blends into a miasma of noise and chuggery. This is an album with so little range between individual tracks that it can feel like one long song, which is grueling for a slam record. Top this with the fact that the last-minute fill-in vocalists are clearly amateurs, especially compared to Evans, and you get an album that sounds like a debut by a young band making early mistakes. I have to imagine replacing the vocals at the last minute did serious damage to their original mix, but Ingested has a history of production issues on top of this. Combining these two has made for an album that can hurt to listen to at times.

I don’t mean to disparage the band; in fact, this was a record I was genuinely hoping would be great. I have always had a soft spot for Ingested’s unique brand of slamcore. Evans vocals are top-tier, and they were always willing to take the genre to creative places. Julia Frau’s vocals on “Ashes Lie Still,” Kirk Windstein’s epic chorus on “Another Breath,” and Josh Middleton’s on “Expect to Fail” define the band’s willingness to explore their sound. On Denigration, the guests only work to divert from the monotony between tracks; even then, their addition feels perfunctory. This doesn’t feel like the band that wrote bangers like “Misery Leech,” “Skinned and Fucked,” or “The List.” At least they are trying to emulate their slam roots with a more streamlined sound built around the classic Chug & Guttural™ combo. There will be those who find this record more palatable than Ingested’s recent deathcore-adjacent trajectory, even if the production takes crushed and curb-stomps it.

When I originally started spinning Denigration for review, numerous elements kept coming to my attention that now feel obvious, seeing how many things changed at the last minute. What should have been a creative refresh for a band that felt like it was relying a little too much on vocal talent has turned into the exact opposite. Denigration fails to bring the hooks, a key to any good slam record, while also being hamstrung by terrible production, middling vocals, and a lack of creativity. Hopefully, Ingested can come back stronger from all this and make the great album I know they are capable of, but all Denigration did was send me straight to the band’s better records.

Rating: Bad
DR: 3| Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

It is hard to believe that Ingested is hitting their eighth record. A band that managed to bring slam to the relative mainstream, combining the grotesque, guttural brutality of extreme music with more core-infused elements. Their previous record, The Tide of Death and Fractured Dreams, leaned a little too hard into these elements. Losing much of the slam and focusing on simplified song structures to its detriment. Their latest release, Denigration, marks the first without founding vocalist Jason Evans, someone who defined the sound of Ingested. Unfortunately for the band, the album is also marked by tumult. With the departure of Evans, his replacement was quickly outed over sexual assault allegations, and at the last minute, guitarists Sean Haynes and Andrew Virrueta took over. The album was re-tooled to replace the vocals (something I commend the band for wholeheartedly), but was something excised in the process, or is it a return to form for a band that had seemingly lost its extreme roots?

I hate to break it to you, but Denigration is an album as messy as the story behind its creation. The album starts strongly, and unfortunately enough, with what is probably its best track. Half the band screams the opening line before the song drops into an absolute blast of destructive drumming. The track is simple but effective, and contains just enough variety and speed to keep things interesting. Haynes and Virrueta do an admirable job bringing heft and technical skill to each track, but they too often devolve into the same bouncing slam riffs to the point of bleeding together. Individual songs are hard to tell apart, and while founding drummer Lyn Jeffs has always been talented, the snare production basically kills his entire performance. This is nearly St. Anger levels of snare-tragedy, and the drums aren’t the only victim; production across the record is uniformly terrible.

Denigration’s Achilles heel is its soundscape. While dynamic range isn’t necessarily a surefire sign of quality, this album has songs that go as low as a 2 on the scale. Tracks are a cacophony in the worst way; the snare is downright grating and overly loud, while the rest blends into a miasma of noise and chuggery. This is an album with so little range between individual tracks that it can feel like one long song, which is grueling for a slam record. Top this with the fact that the last-minute fill-in vocalists are clearly amateurs, especially compared to Evans, and you get an album that sounds like a debut by a young band making early mistakes. I have to imagine replacing the vocals at the last minute did serious damage to their original mix, but Ingested has a history of production issues on top of this. Combining these two has made for an album that can hurt to listen to at times.

I don’t mean to disparage the band; in fact, this was a record I was genuinely hoping would be great. I have always had a soft spot for Ingested’s unique brand of slamcore. Evans vocals are top-tier, and they were always willing to take the genre to creative places. Julia Frau’s vocals on “Ashes Lie Still,” Kirk Windstein’s epic chorus on “Another Breath,” and Josh Middleton’s on “Expect to Fail” define the band’s willingness to explore their sound. On Denigration, the guests only work to divert from the monotony between tracks; even then, their addition feels perfunctory. This doesn’t feel like the band that wrote bangers like “Misery Leech,” “Skinned and Fucked,” or “The List.” At least they are trying to emulate their slam roots with a more streamlined sound built around the classic Chug & Guttural™ combo. There will be those who find this record more palatable than Ingested’s recent deathcore-adjacent trajectory, even if the production takes crushed and curb-stomps it.

When I originally started spinning Denigration for review, numerous elements kept coming to my attention that now feel obvious, seeing how many things changed at the last minute. What should have been a creative refresh for a band that felt like it was relying a little too much on vocal talent has turned into the exact opposite. Denigration fails to bring the hooks, a key to any good slam record, while also being hamstrung by terrible production, middling vocals, and a lack of creativity. Hopefully, Ingested can come back stronger from all this and make the great album I know they are capable of, but all Denigration did was send me straight to the band’s better records.

Rating: Bad
DR: 3| Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

A Forest of Stars – Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface Review

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #4.0 #AForestofStars #AU #Australia #AvantgardeMetal #BritishMetal #Entertainment #May26 #MyDyingBride #ProphecyProductions #review #reviews #StackOverflowinCorpsePileInterface #voices
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/656550/

A Forest of Stars – Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface Review

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #4.0 #AForestofStars #AU #Australia #AvantgardeMetal #BritishMetal #Entertainment #May26 #MyDyingBride #ProphecyProductions #review #reviews #StackOverflowinCorpsePileInterface #voices
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https://www.europesays.com/ie/473737/ A Forest of Stars – Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface Review #2026 #40 #AForestOfStars #AvantgardeMetal #BritishMetal #Éire #Entertainment #IE #Ireland #May26 #Music #MyDyingBride #ProphecyProductions #Review #Reviews #StackOverflowInCorpsePileInterface #voices

A Forest of Stars – Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface Review

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have…
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https://www.newsbeep.com/us/629629/

A Forest of Stars – Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface Review

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #4.0 #AForestofStars #AvantgardeMetal #BritishMetal #Entertainment #May26 #MyDyingBride #ProphecyProductions #review #reviews #StackOverflowinCorpsePileInterface #Voices
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/629629/

A Forest of Stars – Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface Review

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #4.0 #AForestofStars #AvantgardeMetal #BritishMetal #Entertainment #May26 #MyDyingBride #ProphecyProductions #review #Reviews #StackOverflowinCorpsePileInterface #UK #UnitedKingdom #voices
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/571725/

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There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have kept abreast of all the happenings and goings-on within the world of our favorite genre of music. I hate to pop your bubble gum, but that’s wildly untrue. We all have lives, careers, and people in our lives that take time away from listening to new music from artists that we have always loved or, in my case here, artists we’ve been wanting to check out, but for some reason haven’t. A Forest of Stars, the British avant-garde septet, are that band for me. Their newest, Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface, their first album in eight years and sixth overall, is here for dissection, and I’m going in almost completely blind, and without a single note heard prior.

I’m already anticipating the hate mail for this, but from what everyone told me of AFoS, it’s a heady mix of British Black Metal,1 doom metal, and spoken word. All good things, in my book! Plus, Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts helped bring back the violins for My Dying Bride’s 2009 album, For Lies I Sire, which again is a good thing! And despite it being over 73 minutes, Stack Overflow rarely meandered or sat in place for too long, making for an engaging listen throughout. Opener “Ascension of the Clowns” sets a doomed tone, quietly and somberly setting the scene before Mister Curse begins ranting like the proselytizers across the street from where I work. Maniacal and unrelenting, Curse’s caustic delivery and unhinged performances sometimes seem at odds with the framework of the music, but the two sides need each other as much as they want nothing to do with each other.

And that odd dichotomy propels Stack Overflow, especially in the final half-hour-plus one-two punch of both “Sway, Draped in Vague” and “Not Drinking Water.” The former, also awakening a faux dreamy vibe before sending the listener careening through the backstreets of London, with Curse and Katheryne trading off vocal lines while Mr. T.S. Kettleburner and Mr. William Wight-Barrow unleash some incredible riffs and tremolo melodies blanketing Katheryne’s sweeping violins towards the song’s middle, making the song’s 17 minutes feel like a journey. “Not Drinking Water,” in contrast, feels downtrodden in the beginning, containing some of the album’s slowest moments, before hitting what could accurately be called a humdinger of a jam session right at the song’s midpoint, with solos and hooks galore to wrap up both a fantastic closer, as well as a hell of a way to finish out the album.

Of course, there are some issues with Stack Overflow. While most of the material flows seamlessly, there does seem to be some fat to trim, especially in some of the more atmospheric moments. Also, while there isn’t a single weak moment on the album, it really is best experienced in one sitting with most of the lights off, some candles, your favorite beverage, and (if you partake) your smoking implement of choice, and for some, 73 minutes is a big ask for many of us, especially if you’re busy like I am. However, if you can make the time and get in the right headspace, you will be rewarded handsomely.

I’m due for some weirdness, especially in the departure of Voices.2 Not only does Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface scratch that itch until it bleeds, but it also turned me on to a band that I went from “I need to check them out sometime” to “Okay, how much is their stuff on Bandcamp?” in record time. A Forest of Stars, in a just world, should be heralded as purveyors of odd, eclectic metal. Here’s hoping that Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface is as much a jumping-on point for many of you as it was for me. Believe me, you can do a hell of a lot worse.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have kept abreast of all the happenings and goings-on within the world of our favorite genre of music. I hate to pop your bubble gum, but that’s wildly untrue. We all have lives, careers, and people in our lives that take time away from listening to new music from artists that we have always loved or, in my case here, artists we’ve been wanting to check out, but for some reason haven’t. A Forest of Stars, the British avant-garde septet, are that band for me. Their newest, Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface, their first album in eight years and sixth overall, is here for dissection, and I’m going in almost completely blind, and without a single note heard prior.

I’m already anticipating the hate mail for this, but from what everyone told me of AFoS, it’s a heady mix of British Black Metal,1 doom metal, and spoken word. All good things, in my book! Plus, Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts helped bring back the violins for My Dying Bride’s 2009 album, For Lies I Sire, which again is a good thing! And despite it being over 73 minutes, Stack Overflow rarely meandered or sat in place for too long, making for an engaging listen throughout. Opener “Ascension of the Clowns” sets a doomed tone, quietly and somberly setting the scene before Mister Curse begins ranting like the proselytizers across the street from where I work. Maniacal and unrelenting, Curse’s caustic delivery and unhinged performances sometimes seem at odds with the framework of the music, but the two sides need each other as much as they want nothing to do with each other.

And that odd dichotomy propels Stack Overflow, especially in the final half-hour-plus one-two punch of both “Sway, Draped in Vague” and “Not Drinking Water.” The former, also awakening a faux dreamy vibe before sending the listener careening through the backstreets of London, with Curse and Katheryne trading off vocal lines while Mr. T.S. Kettleburner and Mr. William Wight-Barrow unleash some incredible riffs and tremolo melodies blanketing Katheryne’s sweeping violins towards the song’s middle, making the song’s 17 minutes feel like a journey. “Not Drinking Water,” in contrast, feels downtrodden in the beginning, containing some of the album’s slowest moments, before hitting what could accurately be called a humdinger of a jam session right at the song’s midpoint, with solos and hooks galore to wrap up both a fantastic closer, as well as a hell of a way to finish out the album.

Of course, there are some issues with Stack Overflow. While most of the material flows seamlessly, there does seem to be some fat to trim, especially in some of the more atmospheric moments. Also, while there isn’t a single weak moment on the album, it really is best experienced in one sitting with most of the lights off, some candles, your favorite beverage, and (if you partake) your smoking implement of choice, and for some, 73 minutes is a big ask for many of us, especially if you’re busy like I am. However, if you can make the time and get in the right headspace, you will be rewarded handsomely.

I’m due for some weirdness, especially in the departure of Voices.2 Not only does Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface scratch that itch until it bleeds, but it also turned me on to a band that I went from “I need to check them out sometime” to “Okay, how much is their stuff on Bandcamp?” in record time. A Forest of Stars, in a just world, should be heralded as purveyors of odd, eclectic metal. Here’s hoping that Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface is as much a jumping-on point for many of you as it was for me. Believe me, you can do a hell of a lot worse.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have kept abreast of all the happenings and goings-on within the world of our favorite genre of music. I hate to pop your bubble gum, but that’s wildly untrue. We all have lives, careers, and people in our lives that take time away from listening to new music from artists that we have always loved or, in my case here, artists we’ve been wanting to check out, but for some reason haven’t. A Forest of Stars, the British avant-garde septet, are that band for me. Their newest, Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface, their first album in eight years and sixth overall, is here for dissection, and I’m going in almost completely blind, and without a single note heard prior.

I’m already anticipating the hate mail for this, but from what everyone told me of AFoS, it’s a heady mix of British Black Metal,1 doom metal, and spoken word. All good things, in my book! Plus, Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts helped bring back the violins for My Dying Bride’s 2009 album, For Lies I Sire, which again is a good thing! And despite it being over 73 minutes, Stack Overflow rarely meandered or sat in place for too long, making for an engaging listen throughout. Opener “Ascension of the Clowns” sets a doomed tone, quietly and somberly setting the scene before Mister Curse begins ranting like the proselytizers across the street from where I work. Maniacal and unrelenting, Curse’s caustic delivery and unhinged performances sometimes seem at odds with the framework of the music, but the two sides need each other as much as they want nothing to do with each other.

And that odd dichotomy propels Stack Overflow, especially in the final half-hour-plus one-two punch of both “Sway, Draped in Vague” and “Not Drinking Water.” The former, also awakening a faux dreamy vibe before sending the listener careening through the backstreets of London, with Curse and Katheryne trading off vocal lines while Mr. T.S. Kettleburner and Mr. William Wight-Barrow unleash some incredible riffs and tremolo melodies blanketing Katheryne’s sweeping violins towards the song’s middle, making the song’s 17 minutes feel like a journey. “Not Drinking Water,” in contrast, feels downtrodden in the beginning, containing some of the album’s slowest moments, before hitting what could accurately be called a humdinger of a jam session right at the song’s midpoint, with solos and hooks galore to wrap up both a fantastic closer, as well as a hell of a way to finish out the album.

Of course, there are some issues with Stack Overflow. While most of the material flows seamlessly, there does seem to be some fat to trim, especially in some of the more atmospheric moments. Also, while there isn’t a single weak moment on the album, it really is best experienced in one sitting with most of the lights off, some candles, your favorite beverage, and (if you partake) your smoking implement of choice, and for some, 73 minutes is a big ask for many of us, especially if you’re busy like I am. However, if you can make the time and get in the right headspace, you will be rewarded handsomely.

I’m due for some weirdness, especially in the departure of Voices.2 Not only does Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface scratch that itch until it bleeds, but it also turned me on to a band that I went from “I need to check them out sometime” to “Okay, how much is their stuff on Bandcamp?” in record time. A Forest of Stars, in a just world, should be heralded as purveyors of odd, eclectic metal. Here’s hoping that Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface is as much a jumping-on point for many of you as it was for me. Believe me, you can do a hell of a lot worse.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have kept abreast of all the happenings and goings-on within the world of our favorite genre of music. I hate to pop your bubble gum, but that’s wildly untrue. We all have lives, careers, and people in our lives that take time away from listening to new music from artists that we have always loved or, in my case here, artists we’ve been wanting to check out, but for some reason haven’t. A Forest of Stars, the British avant-garde septet, are that band for me. Their newest, Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface, their first album in eight years and sixth overall, is here for dissection, and I’m going in almost completely blind, and without a single note heard prior.

I’m already anticipating the hate mail for this, but from what everyone told me of AFoS, it’s a heady mix of British Black Metal,1 doom metal, and spoken word. All good things, in my book! Plus, Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts helped bring back the violins for My Dying Bride’s 2009 album, For Lies I Sire, which again is a good thing! And despite it being over 73 minutes, Stack Overflow rarely meandered or sat in place for too long, making for an engaging listen throughout. Opener “Ascension of the Clowns” sets a doomed tone, quietly and somberly setting the scene before Mister Curse begins ranting like the proselytizers across the street from where I work. Maniacal and unrelenting, Curse’s caustic delivery and unhinged performances sometimes seem at odds with the framework of the music, but the two sides need each other as much as they want nothing to do with each other.

And that odd dichotomy propels Stack Overflow, especially in the final half-hour-plus one-two punch of both “Sway, Draped in Vague” and “Not Drinking Water.” The former, also awakening a faux dreamy vibe before sending the listener careening through the backstreets of London, with Curse and Katheryne trading off vocal lines while Mr. T.S. Kettleburner and Mr. William Wight-Barrow unleash some incredible riffs and tremolo melodies blanketing Katheryne’s sweeping violins towards the song’s middle, making the song’s 17 minutes feel like a journey. “Not Drinking Water,” in contrast, feels downtrodden in the beginning, containing some of the album’s slowest moments, before hitting what could accurately be called a humdinger of a jam session right at the song’s midpoint, with solos and hooks galore to wrap up both a fantastic closer, as well as a hell of a way to finish out the album.

Of course, there are some issues with Stack Overflow. While most of the material flows seamlessly, there does seem to be some fat to trim, especially in some of the more atmospheric moments. Also, while there isn’t a single weak moment on the album, it really is best experienced in one sitting with most of the lights off, some candles, your favorite beverage, and (if you partake) your smoking implement of choice, and for some, 73 minutes is a big ask for many of us, especially if you’re busy like I am. However, if you can make the time and get in the right headspace, you will be rewarded handsomely.

I’m due for some weirdness, especially in the departure of Voices.2 Not only does Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface scratch that itch until it bleeds, but it also turned me on to a band that I went from “I need to check them out sometime” to “Okay, how much is their stuff on Bandcamp?” in record time. A Forest of Stars, in a just world, should be heralded as purveyors of odd, eclectic metal. Here’s hoping that Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface is as much a jumping-on point for many of you as it was for me. Believe me, you can do a hell of a lot worse.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have kept abreast of all the happenings and goings-on within the world of our favorite genre of music. I hate to pop your bubble gum, but that’s wildly untrue. We all have lives, careers, and people in our lives that take time away from listening to new music from artists that we have always loved or, in my case here, artists we’ve been wanting to check out, but for some reason haven’t. A Forest of Stars, the British avant-garde septet, are that band for me. Their newest, Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface, their first album in eight years and sixth overall, is here for dissection, and I’m going in almost completely blind, and without a single note heard prior.

I’m already anticipating the hate mail for this, but from what everyone told me of AFoS, it’s a heady mix of British Black Metal,1 doom metal, and spoken word. All good things, in my book! Plus, Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts helped bring back the violins for My Dying Bride’s 2009 album, For Lies I Sire, which again is a good thing! And despite it being over 73 minutes, Stack Overflow rarely meandered or sat in place for too long, making for an engaging listen throughout. Opener “Ascension of the Clowns” sets a doomed tone, quietly and somberly setting the scene before Mister Curse begins ranting like the proselytizers across the street from where I work. Maniacal and unrelenting, Curse’s caustic delivery and unhinged performances sometimes seem at odds with the framework of the music, but the two sides need each other as much as they want nothing to do with each other.

And that odd dichotomy propels Stack Overflow, especially in the final half-hour-plus one-two punch of both “Sway, Draped in Vague” and “Not Drinking Water.” The former, also awakening a faux dreamy vibe before sending the listener careening through the backstreets of London, with Curse and Katheryne trading off vocal lines while Mr. T.S. Kettleburner and Mr. William Wight-Barrow unleash some incredible riffs and tremolo melodies blanketing Katheryne’s sweeping violins towards the song’s middle, making the song’s 17 minutes feel like a journey. “Not Drinking Water,” in contrast, feels downtrodden in the beginning, containing some of the album’s slowest moments, before hitting what could accurately be called a humdinger of a jam session right at the song’s midpoint, with solos and hooks galore to wrap up both a fantastic closer, as well as a hell of a way to finish out the album.

Of course, there are some issues with Stack Overflow. While most of the material flows seamlessly, there does seem to be some fat to trim, especially in some of the more atmospheric moments. Also, while there isn’t a single weak moment on the album, it really is best experienced in one sitting with most of the lights off, some candles, your favorite beverage, and (if you partake) your smoking implement of choice, and for some, 73 minutes is a big ask for many of us, especially if you’re busy like I am. However, if you can make the time and get in the right headspace, you will be rewarded handsomely.

I’m due for some weirdness, especially in the departure of Voices.2 Not only does Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface scratch that itch until it bleeds, but it also turned me on to a band that I went from “I need to check them out sometime” to “Okay, how much is their stuff on Bandcamp?” in record time. A Forest of Stars, in a just world, should be heralded as purveyors of odd, eclectic metal. Here’s hoping that Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface is as much a jumping-on point for many of you as it was for me. Believe me, you can do a hell of a lot worse.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

Cognizance – In Light, No Shape Review

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds.…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #Archspire #BritishMetal #CA #Canada #Cognizance #DeathMetal #Entertainment #InLight #May26 #NoShape #Obscura #progressivedeathmetal #review #reviews #Revocation #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #TheZenithpassage #WillowtipRecords
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/643815/

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds. While that approach requires undeniable virtuosity, I’ve always gravitated toward the genre’s more restrained, focused, and groove-oriented side. Cognizance initially walked the well-trodden path of bands like The Faceless and The Zenith Passage on their debut, Malignant Dominion, displaying speed and technicality in equal measure, but doing little to distinguish themselves from a crowded field. However, to their credit, the international quintet-turned-quartet has spent the past three albums gradually cementing their identity, culminating with 2024’s Phantazein. Though it got Stuck in the Filter, the record was packed with punishing grooves, strong songwriting, and phenomenal performances, containing all the qualities that keep me returning to the genre regularly. Two short years later, Cognizance returns with In Light, No Shape.

Much of Cognizance’s growth over the years stems from its stable lineup, though the recent departure of longtime vocalist Henry “Big Mac” Pryce disrupted that continuity. Guitarist Alex Baillie has since assumed vocal duties, marking a shift in the group’s sound. Baillie fills the role admirably, trading Pryce’s deathcore-leaning growls for a style closer to David Davidson (Revocation). In fact, In Light, No Shape—particularly tracks like “Vertical Illusion,” “Witness Marks,” “Chasm,” and “The Zone”—leans heavily into Revocation’s progressive stylings to its benefit. Drummers and longtime fans should already know the name David Diepold (ex-Obscura), but for anyone who doesn’t, consider this your required introduction. The dude absolutely cooks on this record. Whether through artful fills or splashy accents, he commands the material like a conductor leading an orchestra, sitting front and center in the record’s solid mix. Not to be outdone, guitarists Apostolis Karydis and Baillie, along with bassist Chris Binns, lock with Diepold effortlessly, never once sounding strained as they ebb between calibrated riffing, evocative solos, and ornate passages across the record’s 37 minutes.

Rather than following the Archspire school of extravagance, In Light, No Shape shows Karydis and Baillie easing off the accelerator, leaning more into atmosphere than velocity, with Diepold shouldering most of the speed. The duo utilizes more spacey arpeggiated passages (“A Reconfiguration,” “Witness Marks,” “A Game of Proliferation”) than on Phantazein, giving In Light, No Shape a feeling of dynamism and expansiveness. Accordingly, the songwriting strikes a keen balance between technical, immersive, and hooky, while leaving room for each element to breathe. Opener “Transient Fixations” wastes no time launching into hyperdrive, blasting and chugging through its sub‑three‑minute runtime, essentially functioning as an intro track that reaffirms that this is still the Cognizance fans will know. And while it feels a bit short, it flows seamlessly into “Inflection Chants'” groovy opening, making it work. Later, the surges of melodic tremolos and blasts that fuel “Chasm” give way to a haunting, aura-rich soundscape, where cymbal accents melt into jaunty tom fills before everything cascades back into overdrive. Similar structures drive tracks like “The Zone” and Song o’ the Year candidate “A Game of Proliferation,” while others (“Induced Contortions,” “Subterranean Incantation”) stick closer to standard tech death.

To state the obvious, tech death production usually sucks. Thankfully, In Light, No Shape isn’t totally brickwalled to hell, clocking in at a DR of 6. While that number looks average on paper,1 the mix retains a surprisingly natural edge while still delivering the punch and low-end presence needed to let the intricacies of the performances shine. Yes, it’s still compressed, but it never totally collapses on itself either. The guitars carry plenty of bite, avoiding the trap of sounding overly synthetic or overproduced, though the solos sit too far back in the mix for my liking. Likewise, the use of robotic spoken word interludes on tracks like “Inflection Chants” and “Transient Fixations” is conceptually fine, but they get lost behind the loud drums and end up feeling pointless. It’s a trade-off I can ultimately live with, though.

After multiple spins, In Light, No Shape stands toe-to-toe with Phantazein. Overcoming a key member’s departure isn’t easy, and while the album’s stylistic changes may feel reactive or too familiar, most come across as deliberate, pointing to a group resettling their identity. Cognizance continues to emerge as one of tech death’s most compelling acts and In Light, No Shape highlights what the genre can achieve when done right.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: cognizance.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cognizanceband
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds. While that approach requires undeniable virtuosity, I’ve always gravitated toward the genre’s more restrained, focused, and groove-oriented side. Cognizance initially walked the well-trodden path of bands like The Faceless and The Zenith Passage on their debut, Malignant Dominion, displaying speed and technicality in equal measure, but doing little to distinguish themselves from a crowded field. However, to their credit, the international quintet-turned-quartet has spent the past three albums gradually cementing their identity, culminating with 2024’s Phantazein. Though it got Stuck in the Filter, the record was packed with punishing grooves, strong songwriting, and phenomenal performances, containing all the qualities that keep me returning to the genre regularly. Two short years later, Cognizance returns with In Light, No Shape.

Much of Cognizance’s growth over the years stems from its stable lineup, though the recent departure of longtime vocalist Henry “Big Mac” Pryce disrupted that continuity. Guitarist Alex Baillie has since assumed vocal duties, marking a shift in the group’s sound. Baillie fills the role admirably, trading Pryce’s deathcore-leaning growls for a style closer to David Davidson (Revocation). In fact, In Light, No Shape—particularly tracks like “Vertical Illusion,” “Witness Marks,” “Chasm,” and “The Zone”—leans heavily into Revocation’s progressive stylings to its benefit. Drummers and longtime fans should already know the name David Diepold (ex-Obscura), but for anyone who doesn’t, consider this your required introduction. The dude absolutely cooks on this record. Whether through artful fills or splashy accents, he commands the material like a conductor leading an orchestra, sitting front and center in the record’s solid mix. Not to be outdone, guitarists Apostolis Karydis and Baillie, along with bassist Chris Binns, lock with Diepold effortlessly, never once sounding strained as they ebb between calibrated riffing, evocative solos, and ornate passages across the record’s 37 minutes.

Rather than following the Archspire school of extravagance, In Light, No Shape shows Karydis and Baillie easing off the accelerator, leaning more into atmosphere than velocity, with Diepold shouldering most of the speed. The duo utilizes more spacey arpeggiated passages (“A Reconfiguration,” “Witness Marks,” “A Game of Proliferation”) than on Phantazein, giving In Light, No Shape a feeling of dynamism and expansiveness. Accordingly, the songwriting strikes a keen balance between technical, immersive, and hooky, while leaving room for each element to breathe. Opener “Transient Fixations” wastes no time launching into hyperdrive, blasting and chugging through its sub‑three‑minute runtime, essentially functioning as an intro track that reaffirms that this is still the Cognizance fans will know. And while it feels a bit short, it flows seamlessly into “Inflection Chants'” groovy opening, making it work. Later, the surges of melodic tremolos and blasts that fuel “Chasm” give way to a haunting, aura-rich soundscape, where cymbal accents melt into jaunty tom fills before everything cascades back into overdrive. Similar structures drive tracks like “The Zone” and Song o’ the Year candidate “A Game of Proliferation,” while others (“Induced Contortions,” “Subterranean Incantation”) stick closer to standard tech death.

To state the obvious, tech death production usually sucks. Thankfully, In Light, No Shape isn’t totally brickwalled to hell, clocking in at a DR of 6. While that number looks average on paper,1 the mix retains a surprisingly natural edge while still delivering the punch and low-end presence needed to let the intricacies of the performances shine. Yes, it’s still compressed, but it never totally collapses on itself either. The guitars carry plenty of bite, avoiding the trap of sounding overly synthetic or overproduced, though the solos sit too far back in the mix for my liking. Likewise, the use of robotic spoken word interludes on tracks like “Inflection Chants” and “Transient Fixations” is conceptually fine, but they get lost behind the loud drums and end up feeling pointless. It’s a trade-off I can ultimately live with, though.

After multiple spins, In Light, No Shape stands toe-to-toe with Phantazein. Overcoming a key member’s departure isn’t easy, and while the album’s stylistic changes may feel reactive or too familiar, most come across as deliberate, pointing to a group resettling their identity. Cognizance continues to emerge as one of tech death’s most compelling acts and In Light, No Shape highlights what the genre can achieve when done right.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: cognizance.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cognizanceband
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds. While that approach requires undeniable virtuosity, I’ve always gravitated toward the genre’s more restrained, focused, and groove-oriented side. Cognizance initially walked the well-trodden path of bands like The Faceless and The Zenith Passage on their debut, Malignant Dominion, displaying speed and technicality in equal measure, but doing little to distinguish themselves from a crowded field. However, to their credit, the international quintet-turned-quartet has spent the past three albums gradually cementing their identity, culminating with 2024’s Phantazein. Though it got Stuck in the Filter, the record was packed with punishing grooves, strong songwriting, and phenomenal performances, containing all the qualities that keep me returning to the genre regularly. Two short years later, Cognizance returns with In Light, No Shape.

Much of Cognizance’s growth over the years stems from its stable lineup, though the recent departure of longtime vocalist Henry “Big Mac” Pryce disrupted that continuity. Guitarist Alex Baillie has since assumed vocal duties, marking a shift in the group’s sound. Baillie fills the role admirably, trading Pryce’s deathcore-leaning growls for a style closer to David Davidson (Revocation). In fact, In Light, No Shape—particularly tracks like “Vertical Illusion,” “Witness Marks,” “Chasm,” and “The Zone”—leans heavily into Revocation’s progressive stylings to its benefit. Drummers and longtime fans should already know the name David Diepold (ex-Obscura), but for anyone who doesn’t, consider this your required introduction. The dude absolutely cooks on this record. Whether through artful fills or splashy accents, he commands the material like a conductor leading an orchestra, sitting front and center in the record’s solid mix. Not to be outdone, guitarists Apostolis Karydis and Baillie, along with bassist Chris Binns, lock with Diepold effortlessly, never once sounding strained as they ebb between calibrated riffing, evocative solos, and ornate passages across the record’s 37 minutes.

Rather than following the Archspire school of extravagance, In Light, No Shape shows Karydis and Baillie easing off the accelerator, leaning more into atmosphere than velocity, with Diepold shouldering most of the speed. The duo utilizes more spacey arpeggiated passages (“A Reconfiguration,” “Witness Marks,” “A Game of Proliferation”) than on Phantazein, giving In Light, No Shape a feeling of dynamism and expansiveness. Accordingly, the songwriting strikes a keen balance between technical, immersive, and hooky, while leaving room for each element to breathe. Opener “Transient Fixations” wastes no time launching into hyperdrive, blasting and chugging through its sub‑three‑minute runtime, essentially functioning as an intro track that reaffirms that this is still the Cognizance fans will know. And while it feels a bit short, it flows seamlessly into “Inflection Chants'” groovy opening, making it work. Later, the surges of melodic tremolos and blasts that fuel “Chasm” give way to a haunting, aura-rich soundscape, where cymbal accents melt into jaunty tom fills before everything cascades back into overdrive. Similar structures drive tracks like “The Zone” and Song o’ the Year candidate “A Game of Proliferation,” while others (“Induced Contortions,” “Subterranean Incantation”) stick closer to standard tech death.

To state the obvious, tech death production usually sucks. Thankfully, In Light, No Shape isn’t totally brickwalled to hell, clocking in at a DR of 6. While that number looks average on paper,1 the mix retains a surprisingly natural edge while still delivering the punch and low-end presence needed to let the intricacies of the performances shine. Yes, it’s still compressed, but it never totally collapses on itself either. The guitars carry plenty of bite, avoiding the trap of sounding overly synthetic or overproduced, though the solos sit too far back in the mix for my liking. Likewise, the use of robotic spoken word interludes on tracks like “Inflection Chants” and “Transient Fixations” is conceptually fine, but they get lost behind the loud drums and end up feeling pointless. It’s a trade-off I can ultimately live with, though.

After multiple spins, In Light, No Shape stands toe-to-toe with Phantazein. Overcoming a key member’s departure isn’t easy, and while the album’s stylistic changes may feel reactive or too familiar, most come across as deliberate, pointing to a group resettling their identity. Cognizance continues to emerge as one of tech death’s most compelling acts and In Light, No Shape highlights what the genre can achieve when done right.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: cognizance.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cognizanceband
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds. While that approach requires undeniable virtuosity, I’ve always gravitated toward the genre’s more restrained, focused, and groove-oriented side. Cognizance initially walked the well-trodden path of bands like The Faceless and The Zenith Passage on their debut, Malignant Dominion, displaying speed and technicality in equal measure, but doing little to distinguish themselves from a crowded field. However, to their credit, the international quintet-turned-quartet has spent the past three albums gradually cementing their identity, culminating with 2024’s Phantazein. Though it got Stuck in the Filter, the record was packed with punishing grooves, strong songwriting, and phenomenal performances, containing all the qualities that keep me returning to the genre regularly. Two short years later, Cognizance returns with In Light, No Shape.

Much of Cognizance’s growth over the years stems from its stable lineup, though the recent departure of longtime vocalist Henry “Big Mac” Pryce disrupted that continuity. Guitarist Alex Baillie has since assumed vocal duties, marking a shift in the group’s sound. Baillie fills the role admirably, trading Pryce’s deathcore-leaning growls for a style closer to David Davidson (Revocation). In fact, In Light, No Shape—particularly tracks like “Vertical Illusion,” “Witness Marks,” “Chasm,” and “The Zone”—leans heavily into Revocation’s progressive stylings to its benefit. Drummers and longtime fans should already know the name David Diepold (ex-Obscura), but for anyone who doesn’t, consider this your required introduction. The dude absolutely cooks on this record. Whether through artful fills or splashy accents, he commands the material like a conductor leading an orchestra, sitting front and center in the record’s solid mix. Not to be outdone, guitarists Apostolis Karydis and Baillie, along with bassist Chris Binns, lock with Diepold effortlessly, never once sounding strained as they ebb between calibrated riffing, evocative solos, and ornate passages across the record’s 37 minutes.

Rather than following the Archspire school of extravagance, In Light, No Shape shows Karydis and Baillie easing off the accelerator, leaning more into atmosphere than velocity, with Diepold shouldering most of the speed. The duo utilizes more spacey arpeggiated passages (“A Reconfiguration,” “Witness Marks,” “A Game of Proliferation”) than on Phantazein, giving In Light, No Shape a feeling of dynamism and expansiveness. Accordingly, the songwriting strikes a keen balance between technical, immersive, and hooky, while leaving room for each element to breathe. Opener “Transient Fixations” wastes no time launching into hyperdrive, blasting and chugging through its sub‑three‑minute runtime, essentially functioning as an intro track that reaffirms that this is still the Cognizance fans will know. And while it feels a bit short, it flows seamlessly into “Inflection Chants'” groovy opening, making it work. Later, the surges of melodic tremolos and blasts that fuel “Chasm” give way to a haunting, aura-rich soundscape, where cymbal accents melt into jaunty tom fills before everything cascades back into overdrive. Similar structures drive tracks like “The Zone” and Song o’ the Year candidate “A Game of Proliferation,” while others (“Induced Contortions,” “Subterranean Incantation”) stick closer to standard tech death.

To state the obvious, tech death production usually sucks. Thankfully, In Light, No Shape isn’t totally brickwalled to hell, clocking in at a DR of 6. While that number looks average on paper,1 the mix retains a surprisingly natural edge while still delivering the punch and low-end presence needed to let the intricacies of the performances shine. Yes, it’s still compressed, but it never totally collapses on itself either. The guitars carry plenty of bite, avoiding the trap of sounding overly synthetic or overproduced, though the solos sit too far back in the mix for my liking. Likewise, the use of robotic spoken word interludes on tracks like “Inflection Chants” and “Transient Fixations” is conceptually fine, but they get lost behind the loud drums and end up feeling pointless. It’s a trade-off I can ultimately live with, though.

After multiple spins, In Light, No Shape stands toe-to-toe with Phantazein. Overcoming a key member’s departure isn’t easy, and while the album’s stylistic changes may feel reactive or too familiar, most come across as deliberate, pointing to a group resettling their identity. Cognizance continues to emerge as one of tech death’s most compelling acts and In Light, No Shape highlights what the genre can achieve when done right.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: cognizance.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cognizanceband
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds. While that approach requires undeniable virtuosity, I’ve always gravitated toward the genre’s more restrained, focused, and groove-oriented side. Cognizance initially walked the well-trodden path of bands like The Faceless and The Zenith Passage on their debut, Malignant Dominion, displaying speed and technicality in equal measure, but doing little to distinguish themselves from a crowded field. However, to their credit, the international quintet-turned-quartet has spent the past three albums gradually cementing their identity, culminating with 2024’s Phantazein. Though it got Stuck in the Filter, the record was packed with punishing grooves, strong songwriting, and phenomenal performances, containing all the qualities that keep me returning to the genre regularly. Two short years later, Cognizance returns with In Light, No Shape.

Much of Cognizance’s growth over the years stems from its stable lineup, though the recent departure of longtime vocalist Henry “Big Mac” Pryce disrupted that continuity. Guitarist Alex Baillie has since assumed vocal duties, marking a shift in the group’s sound. Baillie fills the role admirably, trading Pryce’s deathcore-leaning growls for a style closer to David Davidson (Revocation). In fact, In Light, No Shape—particularly tracks like “Vertical Illusion,” “Witness Marks,” “Chasm,” and “The Zone”—leans heavily into Revocation’s progressive stylings to its benefit. Drummers and longtime fans should already know the name David Diepold (ex-Obscura), but for anyone who doesn’t, consider this your required introduction. The dude absolutely cooks on this record. Whether through artful fills or splashy accents, he commands the material like a conductor leading an orchestra, sitting front and center in the record’s solid mix. Not to be outdone, guitarists Apostolis Karydis and Baillie, along with bassist Chris Binns, lock with Diepold effortlessly, never once sounding strained as they ebb between calibrated riffing, evocative solos, and ornate passages across the record’s 37 minutes.

Rather than following the Archspire school of extravagance, In Light, No Shape shows Karydis and Baillie easing off the accelerator, leaning more into atmosphere than velocity, with Diepold shouldering most of the speed. The duo utilizes more spacey arpeggiated passages (“A Reconfiguration,” “Witness Marks,” “A Game of Proliferation”) than on Phantazein, giving In Light, No Shape a feeling of dynamism and expansiveness. Accordingly, the songwriting strikes a keen balance between technical, immersive, and hooky, while leaving room for each element to breathe. Opener “Transient Fixations” wastes no time launching into hyperdrive, blasting and chugging through its sub‑three‑minute runtime, essentially functioning as an intro track that reaffirms that this is still the Cognizance fans will know. And while it feels a bit short, it flows seamlessly into “Inflection Chants'” groovy opening, making it work. Later, the surges of melodic tremolos and blasts that fuel “Chasm” give way to a haunting, aura-rich soundscape, where cymbal accents melt into jaunty tom fills before everything cascades back into overdrive. Similar structures drive tracks like “The Zone” and Song o’ the Year candidate “A Game of Proliferation,” while others (“Induced Contortions,” “Subterranean Incantation”) stick closer to standard tech death.

To state the obvious, tech death production usually sucks. Thankfully, In Light, No Shape isn’t totally brickwalled to hell, clocking in at a DR of 6. While that number looks average on paper,1 the mix retains a surprisingly natural edge while still delivering the punch and low-end presence needed to let the intricacies of the performances shine. Yes, it’s still compressed, but it never totally collapses on itself either. The guitars carry plenty of bite, avoiding the trap of sounding overly synthetic or overproduced, though the solos sit too far back in the mix for my liking. Likewise, the use of robotic spoken word interludes on tracks like “Inflection Chants” and “Transient Fixations” is conceptually fine, but they get lost behind the loud drums and end up feeling pointless. It’s a trade-off I can ultimately live with, though.

After multiple spins, In Light, No Shape stands toe-to-toe with Phantazein. Overcoming a key member’s departure isn’t easy, and while the album’s stylistic changes may feel reactive or too familiar, most come across as deliberate, pointing to a group resettling their identity. Cognizance continues to emerge as one of tech death’s most compelling acts and In Light, No Shape highlights what the genre can achieve when done right.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: cognizance.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cognizanceband
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

Accessibility in music isn’t something we fuck with here at AMG. It isn’t even really something metal fans in general care about. Many times, even at its most accessible, metal is a genre written off due to how abrasive it is. But what about physical and mental accessibility for fans and musicians? That is the mantra for Mallavora, a band that originally caught my attention in the promo pile with its bold description as an alt-metal group that fuses elements of R&B, Soul, and Middle Eastern trappings. Upon further inspection, they are pushing the frontlines of accessibility, making a point of playing shows in accessible spaces. Lead singer Jessica Douek suffers from fibromyalgia and is disabled herself, and guitarist Larry Sobieraj pulls from his own experience with chronic illness. If you think this slows the band down in any capacity, you would be wrong. Mallavora’s brand of Middle Eastern-infused alt-metal is dynamic, bombastic, and crushing. Their debut record, What If Better Never Comes? looks to answer the question: Is this a band that can back up its positive message with awesome music?

The album art for What If Better Never Comes? depicts a blurred figure staring up at an endless staircase, and I can only imagine how much more terrifying this image is for those with physical disabilities, but as someone who suffers from mental illness, the metaphor of this insurmountable staircase plays out across the album. This is no happy space filled with sappy messaging and generic positive affirmations. “Sick” sees Douek chanting “Sick” to the backing of grooving guitars and Sam Brownlow’s energetic and punchy drumming. The track is a combo of alt and groove metal enhanced by Douek’s incredible vocals. While “Sick” is an easy example of Mallavora’s worldview, the album is peppered with ideas that personify the concept behind the album title and accompanying art. “Hopeless” is a depressing ballad with emo trappings that showcases Doeuk’s absurd vocal range and amazing falsetto. “Break” sees her directly confronting her life in an existence that feels hostile, calling out, “I guess this world just wasn’t made for bodies quite like mine,” before the track leads into “Birth of a Sun,” where she drops the hammer with powerful low gutturals backed by a massive riff that could live on an Orbit Culture album.

What If Better Never Comes? by Mallavora

Mallavora deftly avoids the repetition typical of many metalcore adjacent outfits. Alt-metal is at the forefront, and What If Better Never Comes? Is stuffed with creative left turns and surprising genre switches. “Smile” flips on a dime from all-out fury to a bouncing groove, only to go back to brutal blasts and Douek hitting her lowest growl. The album’s closer, and title track, is a nine-minute epic with massive riffs, an R&B tangent, and gorgeous chanting inspired by Douek’s Jewish and Middle Eastern heritage. Douek’s vocal talent cannot be overstated, and her range and style act as a throughline in the album, helping keep the disparate and chaotic elements cohesive. The clean production still allows for Brownlow’s skin beating to come out clear and brutal, while Ellis James’ bass shines. There is a consistent atmosphere that keeps Mallavora sounding like a veteran band, not one that is only just releasing its debut.

What If Better Never Comes? is a powerhouse debut for a young band, but it isn’t all roses. “Waste” is an unfortunately named track, because it doesn’t really add anything to the album and has some of the weakest lyrics. It also feels the most formulaic of the tracks while never really opening up. The album is also oddly-paced. The variety on display is admirable, but at times it throws the album off course, such as dropping the ballad “Hopeless” too soon, derailing early momentum.

Mallavora has something special with its sound. Douek’s vocals are consistently amazing, and her range is incredible. They use this to the fullest, with an album that goes wherever it wants and is the better for it. The four-piece shines on all fronts. Brownlow’s drumming has a classic rock energy that is infectious, Sobieraj’s riffs are huge, and James’ bass is allowed to shine with unique passages and expansive production. What If Better Never Comes? is as powerful as its message without being trite or treating disability as something to be patronized. It is as complex, flawed, depressed, and hopeful as we all are while remaining an infectiously groovy, anthemic alt-metal album that swings for the fences and mostly hits it.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: mallavora.co.uk | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Accessibility in music isn’t something we fuck with here at AMG. It isn’t even really something metal fans in general care about. Many times, even at its most accessible, metal is a genre written off due to how abrasive it is. But what about physical and mental accessibility for fans and musicians? That is the mantra for Mallavora, a band that originally caught my attention in the promo pile with its bold description as an alt-metal group that fuses elements of R&B, Soul, and Middle Eastern trappings. Upon further inspection, they are pushing the frontlines of accessibility, making a point of playing shows in accessible spaces. Lead singer Jessica Douek suffers from fibromyalgia and is disabled herself, and guitarist Larry Sobieraj pulls from his own experience with chronic illness. If you think this slows the band down in any capacity, you would be wrong. Mallavora’s brand of Middle Eastern-infused alt-metal is dynamic, bombastic, and crushing. Their debut record, What If Better Never Comes? looks to answer the question: Is this a band that can back up its positive message with awesome music?

The album art for What If Better Never Comes? depicts a blurred figure staring up at an endless staircase, and I can only imagine how much more terrifying this image is for those with physical disabilities, but as someone who suffers from mental illness, the metaphor of this insurmountable staircase plays out across the album. This is no happy space filled with sappy messaging and generic positive affirmations. “Sick” sees Douek chanting “Sick” to the backing of grooving guitars and Sam Brownlow’s energetic and punchy drumming. The track is a combo of alt and groove metal enhanced by Douek’s incredible vocals. While “Sick” is an easy example of Mallavora’s worldview, the album is peppered with ideas that personify the concept behind the album title and accompanying art. “Hopeless” is a depressing ballad with emo trappings that showcases Doeuk’s absurd vocal range and amazing falsetto. “Break” sees her directly confronting her life in an existence that feels hostile, calling out, “I guess this world just wasn’t made for bodies quite like mine,” before the track leads into “Birth of a Sun,” where she drops the hammer with powerful low gutturals backed by a massive riff that could live on an Orbit Culture album.

What If Better Never Comes? by Mallavora

Mallavora deftly avoids the repetition typical of many metalcore adjacent outfits. Alt-metal is at the forefront, and What If Better Never Comes? Is stuffed with creative left turns and surprising genre switches. “Smile” flips on a dime from all-out fury to a bouncing groove, only to go back to brutal blasts and Douek hitting her lowest growl. The album’s closer, and title track, is a nine-minute epic with massive riffs, an R&B tangent, and gorgeous chanting inspired by Douek’s Jewish and Middle Eastern heritage. Douek’s vocal talent cannot be overstated, and her range and style act as a throughline in the album, helping keep the disparate and chaotic elements cohesive. The clean production still allows for Brownlow’s skin beating to come out clear and brutal, while Ellis James’ bass shines. There is a consistent atmosphere that keeps Mallavora sounding like a veteran band, not one that is only just releasing its debut.

What If Better Never Comes? is a powerhouse debut for a young band, but it isn’t all roses. “Waste” is an unfortunately named track, because it doesn’t really add anything to the album and has some of the weakest lyrics. It also feels the most formulaic of the tracks while never really opening up. The album is also oddly-paced. The variety on display is admirable, but at times it throws the album off course, such as dropping the ballad “Hopeless” too soon, derailing early momentum.

Mallavora has something special with its sound. Douek’s vocals are consistently amazing, and her range is incredible. They use this to the fullest, with an album that goes wherever it wants and is the better for it. The four-piece shines on all fronts. Brownlow’s drumming has a classic rock energy that is infectious, Sobieraj’s riffs are huge, and James’ bass is allowed to shine with unique passages and expansive production. What If Better Never Comes? is as powerful as its message without being trite or treating disability as something to be patronized. It is as complex, flawed, depressed, and hopeful as we all are while remaining an infectiously groovy, anthemic alt-metal album that swings for the fences and mostly hits it.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: mallavora.co.uk | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Accessibility in music isn’t something we fuck with here at AMG. It isn’t even really something metal fans in general care about. Many times, even at its most accessible, metal is a genre written off due to how abrasive it is. But what about physical and mental accessibility for fans and musicians? That is the mantra for Mallavora, a band that originally caught my attention in the promo pile with its bold description as an alt-metal group that fuses elements of R&B, Soul, and Middle Eastern trappings. Upon further inspection, they are pushing the frontlines of accessibility, making a point of playing shows in accessible spaces. Lead singer Jessica Douek suffers from fibromyalgia and is disabled herself, and guitarist Larry Sobieraj pulls from his own experience with chronic illness. If you think this slows the band down in any capacity, you would be wrong. Mallavora’s brand of Middle Eastern-infused alt-metal is dynamic, bombastic, and crushing. Their debut record, What If Better Never Comes? looks to answer the question: Is this a band that can back up its positive message with awesome music?

The album art for What If Better Never Comes? depicts a blurred figure staring up at an endless staircase, and I can only imagine how much more terrifying this image is for those with physical disabilities, but as someone who suffers from mental illness, the metaphor of this insurmountable staircase plays out across the album. This is no happy space filled with sappy messaging and generic positive affirmations. “Sick” sees Douek chanting “Sick” to the backing of grooving guitars and Sam Brownlow’s energetic and punchy drumming. The track is a combo of alt and groove metal enhanced by Douek’s incredible vocals. While “Sick” is an easy example of Mallavora’s worldview, the album is peppered with ideas that personify the concept behind the album title and accompanying art. “Hopeless” is a depressing ballad with emo trappings that showcases Doeuk’s absurd vocal range and amazing falsetto. “Break” sees her directly confronting her life in an existence that feels hostile, calling out, “I guess this world just wasn’t made for bodies quite like mine,” before the track leads into “Birth of a Sun,” where she drops the hammer with powerful low gutturals backed by a massive riff that could live on an Orbit Culture album.

What If Better Never Comes? by Mallavora

Mallavora deftly avoids the repetition typical of many metalcore adjacent outfits. Alt-metal is at the forefront, and What If Better Never Comes? Is stuffed with creative left turns and surprising genre switches. “Smile” flips on a dime from all-out fury to a bouncing groove, only to go back to brutal blasts and Douek hitting her lowest growl. The album’s closer, and title track, is a nine-minute epic with massive riffs, an R&B tangent, and gorgeous chanting inspired by Douek’s Jewish and Middle Eastern heritage. Douek’s vocal talent cannot be overstated, and her range and style act as a throughline in the album, helping keep the disparate and chaotic elements cohesive. The clean production still allows for Brownlow’s skin beating to come out clear and brutal, while Ellis James’ bass shines. There is a consistent atmosphere that keeps Mallavora sounding like a veteran band, not one that is only just releasing its debut.

What If Better Never Comes? is a powerhouse debut for a young band, but it isn’t all roses. “Waste” is an unfortunately named track, because it doesn’t really add anything to the album and has some of the weakest lyrics. It also feels the most formulaic of the tracks while never really opening up. The album is also oddly-paced. The variety on display is admirable, but at times it throws the album off course, such as dropping the ballad “Hopeless” too soon, derailing early momentum.

Mallavora has something special with its sound. Douek’s vocals are consistently amazing, and her range is incredible. They use this to the fullest, with an album that goes wherever it wants and is the better for it. The four-piece shines on all fronts. Brownlow’s drumming has a classic rock energy that is infectious, Sobieraj’s riffs are huge, and James’ bass is allowed to shine with unique passages and expansive production. What If Better Never Comes? is as powerful as its message without being trite or treating disability as something to be patronized. It is as complex, flawed, depressed, and hopeful as we all are while remaining an infectiously groovy, anthemic alt-metal album that swings for the fences and mostly hits it.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: mallavora.co.uk | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Accessibility in music isn’t something we fuck with here at AMG. It isn’t even really something metal fans in general care about. Many times, even at its most accessible, metal is a genre written off due to how abrasive it is. But what about physical and mental accessibility for fans and musicians? That is the mantra for Mallavora, a band that originally caught my attention in the promo pile with its bold description as an alt-metal group that fuses elements of R&B, Soul, and Middle Eastern trappings. Upon further inspection, they are pushing the frontlines of accessibility, making a point of playing shows in accessible spaces. Lead singer Jessica Douek suffers from fibromyalgia and is disabled herself, and guitarist Larry Sobieraj pulls from his own experience with chronic illness. If you think this slows the band down in any capacity, you would be wrong. Mallavora’s brand of Middle Eastern-infused alt-metal is dynamic, bombastic, and crushing. Their debut record, What If Better Never Comes? looks to answer the question: Is this a band that can back up its positive message with awesome music?

The album art for What If Better Never Comes? depicts a blurred figure staring up at an endless staircase, and I can only imagine how much more terrifying this image is for those with physical disabilities, but as someone who suffers from mental illness, the metaphor of this insurmountable staircase plays out across the album. This is no happy space filled with sappy messaging and generic positive affirmations. “Sick” sees Douek chanting “Sick” to the backing of grooving guitars and Sam Brownlow’s energetic and punchy drumming. The track is a combo of alt and groove metal enhanced by Douek’s incredible vocals. While “Sick” is an easy example of Mallavora’s worldview, the album is peppered with ideas that personify the concept behind the album title and accompanying art. “Hopeless” is a depressing ballad with emo trappings that showcases Doeuk’s absurd vocal range and amazing falsetto. “Break” sees her directly confronting her life in an existence that feels hostile, calling out, “I guess this world just wasn’t made for bodies quite like mine,” before the track leads into “Birth of a Sun,” where she drops the hammer with powerful low gutturals backed by a massive riff that could live on an Orbit Culture album.

What If Better Never Comes? by Mallavora

Mallavora deftly avoids the repetition typical of many metalcore adjacent outfits. Alt-metal is at the forefront, and What If Better Never Comes? Is stuffed with creative left turns and surprising genre switches. “Smile” flips on a dime from all-out fury to a bouncing groove, only to go back to brutal blasts and Douek hitting her lowest growl. The album’s closer, and title track, is a nine-minute epic with massive riffs, an R&B tangent, and gorgeous chanting inspired by Douek’s Jewish and Middle Eastern heritage. Douek’s vocal talent cannot be overstated, and her range and style act as a throughline in the album, helping keep the disparate and chaotic elements cohesive. The clean production still allows for Brownlow’s skin beating to come out clear and brutal, while Ellis James’ bass shines. There is a consistent atmosphere that keeps Mallavora sounding like a veteran band, not one that is only just releasing its debut.

What If Better Never Comes? is a powerhouse debut for a young band, but it isn’t all roses. “Waste” is an unfortunately named track, because it doesn’t really add anything to the album and has some of the weakest lyrics. It also feels the most formulaic of the tracks while never really opening up. The album is also oddly-paced. The variety on display is admirable, but at times it throws the album off course, such as dropping the ballad “Hopeless” too soon, derailing early momentum.

Mallavora has something special with its sound. Douek’s vocals are consistently amazing, and her range is incredible. They use this to the fullest, with an album that goes wherever it wants and is the better for it. The four-piece shines on all fronts. Brownlow’s drumming has a classic rock energy that is infectious, Sobieraj’s riffs are huge, and James’ bass is allowed to shine with unique passages and expansive production. What If Better Never Comes? is as powerful as its message without being trite or treating disability as something to be patronized. It is as complex, flawed, depressed, and hopeful as we all are while remaining an infectiously groovy, anthemic alt-metal album that swings for the fences and mostly hits it.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: mallavora.co.uk | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Accessibility in music isn’t something we fuck with here at AMG. It isn’t even really something metal fans in general care about. Many times, even at its most accessible, metal is a genre written off due to how abrasive it is. But what about physical and mental accessibility for fans and musicians? That is the mantra for Mallavora, a band that originally caught my attention in the promo pile with its bold description as an alt-metal group that fuses elements of R&B, Soul, and Middle Eastern trappings. Upon further inspection, they are pushing the frontlines of accessibility, making a point of playing shows in accessible spaces. Lead singer Jessica Douek suffers from fibromyalgia and is disabled herself, and guitarist Larry Sobieraj pulls from his own experience with chronic illness. If you think this slows the band down in any capacity, you would be wrong. Mallavora’s brand of Middle Eastern-infused alt-metal is dynamic, bombastic, and crushing. Their debut record, What If Better Never Comes? looks to answer the question: Is this a band that can back up its positive message with awesome music?

The album art for What If Better Never Comes? depicts a blurred figure staring up at an endless staircase, and I can only imagine how much more terrifying this image is for those with physical disabilities, but as someone who suffers from mental illness, the metaphor of this insurmountable staircase plays out across the album. This is no happy space filled with sappy messaging and generic positive affirmations. “Sick” sees Douek chanting “Sick” to the backing of grooving guitars and Sam Brownlow’s energetic and punchy drumming. The track is a combo of alt and groove metal enhanced by Douek’s incredible vocals. While “Sick” is an easy example of Mallavora’s worldview, the album is peppered with ideas that personify the concept behind the album title and accompanying art. “Hopeless” is a depressing ballad with emo trappings that showcases Doeuk’s absurd vocal range and amazing falsetto. “Break” sees her directly confronting her life in an existence that feels hostile, calling out, “I guess this world just wasn’t made for bodies quite like mine,” before the track leads into “Birth of a Sun,” where she drops the hammer with powerful low gutturals backed by a massive riff that could live on an Orbit Culture album.

What If Better Never Comes? by Mallavora

Mallavora deftly avoids the repetition typical of many metalcore adjacent outfits. Alt-metal is at the forefront, and What If Better Never Comes? Is stuffed with creative left turns and surprising genre switches. “Smile” flips on a dime from all-out fury to a bouncing groove, only to go back to brutal blasts and Douek hitting her lowest growl. The album’s closer, and title track, is a nine-minute epic with massive riffs, an R&B tangent, and gorgeous chanting inspired by Douek’s Jewish and Middle Eastern heritage. Douek’s vocal talent cannot be overstated, and her range and style act as a throughline in the album, helping keep the disparate and chaotic elements cohesive. The clean production still allows for Brownlow’s skin beating to come out clear and brutal, while Ellis James’ bass shines. There is a consistent atmosphere that keeps Mallavora sounding like a veteran band, not one that is only just releasing its debut.

What If Better Never Comes? is a powerhouse debut for a young band, but it isn’t all roses. “Waste” is an unfortunately named track, because it doesn’t really add anything to the album and has some of the weakest lyrics. It also feels the most formulaic of the tracks while never really opening up. The album is also oddly-paced. The variety on display is admirable, but at times it throws the album off course, such as dropping the ballad “Hopeless” too soon, derailing early momentum.

Mallavora has something special with its sound. Douek’s vocals are consistently amazing, and her range is incredible. They use this to the fullest, with an album that goes wherever it wants and is the better for it. The four-piece shines on all fronts. Brownlow’s drumming has a classic rock energy that is infectious, Sobieraj’s riffs are huge, and James’ bass is allowed to shine with unique passages and expansive production. What If Better Never Comes? is as powerful as its message without being trite or treating disability as something to be patronized. It is as complex, flawed, depressed, and hopeful as we all are while remaining an infectiously groovy, anthemic alt-metal album that swings for the fences and mostly hits it.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: mallavora.co.uk | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Hellripper's new album is on Bandcamp

Go! Go! Go! ;) 🎵

Hellripper Cononach

Bandcamp link
https://hellripper.bandcamp.com/album/coronach-24-bit-hd-audio

#BlackMetal #ThrashMetal #BritishMetal

Hellripper's new album is on Bandcamp

Go! Go! Go! ;) 🎵

Hellripper Cononach

Bandcamp link
https://hellripper.bandcamp.com/album/coronach-24-bit-hd-audio

#BlackMetal #ThrashMetal #BritishMetal

Hellripper's new album is on Bandcamp

Go! Go! Go! ;) 🎵

Hellripper Cononach

Bandcamp link
https://hellripper.bandcamp.com/album/coronach-24-bit-hd-audio

#BlackMetal #ThrashMetal #BritishMetal

Hellripper's new album is on Bandcamp

Go! Go! Go! ;) 🎵

Hellripper Cononach

Bandcamp link
https://hellripper.bandcamp.com/album/coronach-24-bit-hd-audio

#BlackMetal #ThrashMetal #BritishMetal

Hellripper's new album is on Bandcamp

Go! Go! Go! ;) 🎵

Hellripper Cononach

Bandcamp link
https://hellripper.bandcamp.com/album/coronach-24-bit-hd-audio

#BlackMetal #ThrashMetal #BritishMetal

https://www.europesays.com/uk/805955/ Desert Storm – Buried Under the Weight of Reason Review #2026 #35 #Baroness #BeardOfZeuss #BossKeloid #BritishMetal #BuriedUnderTheWeightOfReason #Crowbar #DesertStorm #DoomMetal #Entertainment #HeavyPsychSounds #Mar26 #music #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #StonerRock #UK #UnitedKingdom

For nearly two decades, Desert Storm has stood at the cornerstone of England’s fuzz-drenched underground. One can imagine my surprise, then, to find that I claim the first review of their catalog here. The group’s maturation has been a process of trial and error, evolving from smoky, blues-soaked stoner and southern rock roots into a heftier, sludgy, doom-infused form. Despite the unevenness of the Oxford outfit’s earlier efforts—Forked Tongues and Horizontal Life—Desert Storm’s more recent output (specifically Sentinels and Omens) found that sweet spot where sludge, doom, and stoner rock collide. While 2023’s Death Rattle saw these lads largely revisiting their old psychedelic ways, their seventh record, Buried Under the Weight of Reason, reverses course with a Saharan surge of down-tuned, resonant grooves and explosive riff drops poised to shatter many a bong.

As the opening notes of “Newfound Respect” hit, Buried Under the Weight of Reason reveals itself as a blunter, more dynamic beast than its predecessors. The guitars have thickened into a sludge/doom/stoner hybrid of epic proportions, blending Boss Keloid-like phrasing (“Rot to Ruin,” “Newfound Respect”) with Baronessian textures (“Twelve Seasons,” “Law Unto Myself”) and even the occasional djenty chug (“Cut Your Teeth,” “Rot to Ruin”). Huge, low-slung riffs drive Desert Storm’s definitive songwriting pattern. Songs lurch between stampeding verses and clean, crestfallen bridges, often featuring playful bass flourishes and blues refrains. Elliot Cole’s drums hit with massive, tom-forward authority. Each booming strike fuses with new bassist Andrew Keyzor (ex-Beard of Zeuss), carving deep pockets on tracks like “Woodsman” and “Shamanic Echoes.” By the time the first few tracks roll by, it’s obvious that Buried Under the Weight of Reason finds Desert Storm operating squarely in their wheelhouse.

DESERT STORM – Buried Under The Weight Of Reason by HEAVY PSYCH SOUNDS Records

Desert Storm commits to a single mission on Buried Under the Weight of Reason: delivering crushing, irresistible grooves from start to finish. Though lesser bands often bail on a great hook too early, Desert Storm has the confidence to lock in and let a sequence breathe like a fine wine, avoiding the common pitfall of over-complicating a riff before it reaches its zenith. Their controlled songwriting approach shines on the “Woodsman” and “Shamanic Echoes,” where the group adds nuance through minimalist, hook-heavy phrasing that feels both exciting and fresh. “Rot to Ruin” and “Cut Your Teeth” utilize spacious, bluesy transitions to reset the listener’s palate before building toward massive payoffs. The latter succeeds because the quartet holds back, patiently waiting for the precise moment to strike with a mammoth closing riff. The album closes with “Twelve Seasons,” a standout track that balances technical complexity and eccentricity with Desert Storm’s conviction to mine every ounce of a groove’s energy until it runs bone-dry.

Matthew Ryan’s vocals have historically been Desert Storm’s hollow point, but on Buried Under the Weight of Reason, they arrive with a newfound polish and reliability. Hitting with a grizzled, Crowbar-like growl, Ryan provides a solid—albeit largely safe—foundation that underpins Desert Storm’s low-frequency bulk. While Ryan’s vocals struggle to elevate the plethora of high-caliber riffs, they sit comfortably in the mix, serving their purpose without overreaching. Inconsistencies surface, however, on “Woodsman,” where mechanical chanting feels like a unique angle tripped up by its own peculiarity. More jarring is “Dripback,” where Ryan’s barking cadence feels a bit too unhinged, overshadowing an otherwise great groove. Beyond the vocal performance, the compressed mix masks the finer nuances—like the cowbell on “Twelve Seasons”—and the quartet’s commitment to the almighty riff sometimes results in songs feeling overextended. While Desert Storm’s “groove-first” philosophy is surely their strength, it leads to some bloat on the record’s longer cuts (“Rot to Ruin,” “Shamanic Echoes”). Additionally, the inclusion of the interlude “Carry the Weight” feels pointless in the context of the album’s flow.

But for Desert Storm, Buried Under the Weight of Reason is a cause for celebration. By knowing and staying largely within their established limits, the group has created not only a good record, but easily their best to date. While it occasionally oversteps its bounds or struggles to maintain its momentum, the songwriting and groove are infectious enough to have every head in the club bobbing in unison. Their sharpest effort to date, with enough weight to kill an elephant, Buried Under the Weight of Reason is a damn good time and a reminder that sometimes, that’s all a record needs to be.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Heavy Psych Sounds
Websites: desertstorm.bandcamp.com/music | desertstormband.com | facebook.com/desertstormuk
Releases Worldwide: March 6th, 2026

For nearly two decades, Desert Storm has stood at the cornerstone of England’s fuzz-drenched underground. One can imagine my surprise, then, to find that I claim the first review of their catalog here. The group’s maturation has been a process of trial and error, evolving from smoky, blues-soaked stoner and southern rock roots into a heftier, sludgy, doom-infused form. Despite the unevenness of the Oxford outfit’s earlier efforts—Forked Tongues and Horizontal Life—Desert Storm’s more recent output (specifically Sentinels and Omens) found that sweet spot where sludge, doom, and stoner rock collide. While 2023’s Death Rattle saw these lads largely revisiting their old psychedelic ways, their seventh record, Buried Under the Weight of Reason, reverses course with a Saharan surge of down-tuned, resonant grooves and explosive riff drops poised to shatter many a bong.

As the opening notes of “Newfound Respect” hit, Buried Under the Weight of Reason reveals itself as a blunter, more dynamic beast than its predecessors. The guitars have thickened into a sludge/doom/stoner hybrid of epic proportions, blending Boss Keloid-like phrasing (“Rot to Ruin,” “Newfound Respect”) with Baronessian textures (“Twelve Seasons,” “Law Unto Myself”) and even the occasional djenty chug (“Cut Your Teeth,” “Rot to Ruin”). Huge, low-slung riffs drive Desert Storm’s definitive songwriting pattern. Songs lurch between stampeding verses and clean, crestfallen bridges, often featuring playful bass flourishes and blues refrains. Elliot Cole’s drums hit with massive, tom-forward authority. Each booming strike fuses with new bassist Andrew Keyzor (ex-Beard of Zeuss), carving deep pockets on tracks like “Woodsman” and “Shamanic Echoes.” By the time the first few tracks roll by, it’s obvious that Buried Under the Weight of Reason finds Desert Storm operating squarely in their wheelhouse.

DESERT STORM – Buried Under The Weight Of Reason by HEAVY PSYCH SOUNDS Records

Desert Storm commits to a single mission on Buried Under the Weight of Reason: delivering crushing, irresistible grooves from start to finish. Though lesser bands often bail on a great hook too early, Desert Storm has the confidence to lock in and let a sequence breathe like a fine wine, avoiding the common pitfall of over-complicating a riff before it reaches its zenith. Their controlled songwriting approach shines on the “Woodsman” and “Shamanic Echoes,” where the group adds nuance through minimalist, hook-heavy phrasing that feels both exciting and fresh. “Rot to Ruin” and “Cut Your Teeth” utilize spacious, bluesy transitions to reset the listener’s palate before building toward massive payoffs. The latter succeeds because the quartet holds back, patiently waiting for the precise moment to strike with a mammoth closing riff. The album closes with “Twelve Seasons,” a standout track that balances technical complexity and eccentricity with Desert Storm’s conviction to mine every ounce of a groove’s energy until it runs bone-dry.

Matthew Ryan’s vocals have historically been Desert Storm’s hollow point, but on Buried Under the Weight of Reason, they arrive with a newfound polish and reliability. Hitting with a grizzled, Crowbar-like growl, Ryan provides a solid—albeit largely safe—foundation that underpins Desert Storm’s low-frequency bulk. While Ryan’s vocals struggle to elevate the plethora of high-caliber riffs, they sit comfortably in the mix, serving their purpose without overreaching. Inconsistencies surface, however, on “Woodsman,” where mechanical chanting feels like a unique angle tripped up by its own peculiarity. More jarring is “Dripback,” where Ryan’s barking cadence feels a bit too unhinged, overshadowing an otherwise great groove. Beyond the vocal performance, the compressed mix masks the finer nuances—like the cowbell on “Twelve Seasons”—and the quartet’s commitment to the almighty riff sometimes results in songs feeling overextended. While Desert Storm’s “groove-first” philosophy is surely their strength, it leads to some bloat on the record’s longer cuts (“Rot to Ruin,” “Shamanic Echoes”). Additionally, the inclusion of the interlude “Carry the Weight” feels pointless in the context of the album’s flow.

But for Desert Storm, Buried Under the Weight of Reason is a cause for celebration. By knowing and staying largely within their established limits, the group has created not only a good record, but easily their best to date. While it occasionally oversteps its bounds or struggles to maintain its momentum, the songwriting and groove are infectious enough to have every head in the club bobbing in unison. Their sharpest effort to date, with enough weight to kill an elephant, Buried Under the Weight of Reason is a damn good time and a reminder that sometimes, that’s all a record needs to be.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Heavy Psych Sounds
Websites: desertstorm.bandcamp.com/music | desertstormband.com | facebook.com/desertstormuk
Releases Worldwide: March 6th, 2026

For nearly two decades, Desert Storm has stood at the cornerstone of England’s fuzz-drenched underground. One can imagine my surprise, then, to find that I claim the first review of their catalog here. The group’s maturation has been a process of trial and error, evolving from smoky, blues-soaked stoner and southern rock roots into a heftier, sludgy, doom-infused form. Despite the unevenness of the Oxford outfit’s earlier efforts—Forked Tongues and Horizontal Life—Desert Storm’s more recent output (specifically Sentinels and Omens) found that sweet spot where sludge, doom, and stoner rock collide. While 2023’s Death Rattle saw these lads largely revisiting their old psychedelic ways, their seventh record, Buried Under the Weight of Reason, reverses course with a Saharan surge of down-tuned, resonant grooves and explosive riff drops poised to shatter many a bong.

As the opening notes of “Newfound Respect” hit, Buried Under the Weight of Reason reveals itself as a blunter, more dynamic beast than its predecessors. The guitars have thickened into a sludge/doom/stoner hybrid of epic proportions, blending Boss Keloid-like phrasing (“Rot to Ruin,” “Newfound Respect”) with Baronessian textures (“Twelve Seasons,” “Law Unto Myself”) and even the occasional djenty chug (“Cut Your Teeth,” “Rot to Ruin”). Huge, low-slung riffs drive Desert Storm’s definitive songwriting pattern. Songs lurch between stampeding verses and clean, crestfallen bridges, often featuring playful bass flourishes and blues refrains. Elliot Cole’s drums hit with massive, tom-forward authority. Each booming strike fuses with new bassist Andrew Keyzor (ex-Beard of Zeuss), carving deep pockets on tracks like “Woodsman” and “Shamanic Echoes.” By the time the first few tracks roll by, it’s obvious that Buried Under the Weight of Reason finds Desert Storm operating squarely in their wheelhouse.

DESERT STORM – Buried Under The Weight Of Reason by HEAVY PSYCH SOUNDS Records

Desert Storm commits to a single mission on Buried Under the Weight of Reason: delivering crushing, irresistible grooves from start to finish. Though lesser bands often bail on a great hook too early, Desert Storm has the confidence to lock in and let a sequence breathe like a fine wine, avoiding the common pitfall of over-complicating a riff before it reaches its zenith. Their controlled songwriting approach shines on the “Woodsman” and “Shamanic Echoes,” where the group adds nuance through minimalist, hook-heavy phrasing that feels both exciting and fresh. “Rot to Ruin” and “Cut Your Teeth” utilize spacious, bluesy transitions to reset the listener’s palate before building toward massive payoffs. The latter succeeds because the quartet holds back, patiently waiting for the precise moment to strike with a mammoth closing riff. The album closes with “Twelve Seasons,” a standout track that balances technical complexity and eccentricity with Desert Storm’s conviction to mine every ounce of a groove’s energy until it runs bone-dry.

Matthew Ryan’s vocals have historically been Desert Storm’s hollow point, but on Buried Under the Weight of Reason, they arrive with a newfound polish and reliability. Hitting with a grizzled, Crowbar-like growl, Ryan provides a solid—albeit largely safe—foundation that underpins Desert Storm’s low-frequency bulk. While Ryan’s vocals struggle to elevate the plethora of high-caliber riffs, they sit comfortably in the mix, serving their purpose without overreaching. Inconsistencies surface, however, on “Woodsman,” where mechanical chanting feels like a unique angle tripped up by its own peculiarity. More jarring is “Dripback,” where Ryan’s barking cadence feels a bit too unhinged, overshadowing an otherwise great groove. Beyond the vocal performance, the compressed mix masks the finer nuances—like the cowbell on “Twelve Seasons”—and the quartet’s commitment to the almighty riff sometimes results in songs feeling overextended. While Desert Storm’s “groove-first” philosophy is surely their strength, it leads to some bloat on the record’s longer cuts (“Rot to Ruin,” “Shamanic Echoes”). Additionally, the inclusion of the interlude “Carry the Weight” feels pointless in the context of the album’s flow.

But for Desert Storm, Buried Under the Weight of Reason is a cause for celebration. By knowing and staying largely within their established limits, the group has created not only a good record, but easily their best to date. While it occasionally oversteps its bounds or struggles to maintain its momentum, the songwriting and groove are infectious enough to have every head in the club bobbing in unison. Their sharpest effort to date, with enough weight to kill an elephant, Buried Under the Weight of Reason is a damn good time and a reminder that sometimes, that’s all a record needs to be.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Heavy Psych Sounds
Websites: desertstorm.bandcamp.com/music | desertstormband.com | facebook.com/desertstormuk
Releases Worldwide: March 6th, 2026

For nearly two decades, Desert Storm has stood at the cornerstone of England’s fuzz-drenched underground. One can imagine my surprise, then, to find that I claim the first review of their catalog here. The group’s maturation has been a process of trial and error, evolving from smoky, blues-soaked stoner and southern rock roots into a heftier, sludgy, doom-infused form. Despite the unevenness of the Oxford outfit’s earlier efforts—Forked Tongues and Horizontal Life—Desert Storm’s more recent output (specifically Sentinels and Omens) found that sweet spot where sludge, doom, and stoner rock collide. While 2023’s Death Rattle saw these lads largely revisiting their old psychedelic ways, their seventh record, Buried Under the Weight of Reason, reverses course with a Saharan surge of down-tuned, resonant grooves and explosive riff drops poised to shatter many a bong.

As the opening notes of “Newfound Respect” hit, Buried Under the Weight of Reason reveals itself as a blunter, more dynamic beast than its predecessors. The guitars have thickened into a sludge/doom/stoner hybrid of epic proportions, blending Boss Keloid-like phrasing (“Rot to Ruin,” “Newfound Respect”) with Baronessian textures (“Twelve Seasons,” “Law Unto Myself”) and even the occasional djenty chug (“Cut Your Teeth,” “Rot to Ruin”). Huge, low-slung riffs drive Desert Storm’s definitive songwriting pattern. Songs lurch between stampeding verses and clean, crestfallen bridges, often featuring playful bass flourishes and blues refrains. Elliot Cole’s drums hit with massive, tom-forward authority. Each booming strike fuses with new bassist Andrew Keyzor (ex-Beard of Zeuss), carving deep pockets on tracks like “Woodsman” and “Shamanic Echoes.” By the time the first few tracks roll by, it’s obvious that Buried Under the Weight of Reason finds Desert Storm operating squarely in their wheelhouse.

DESERT STORM – Buried Under The Weight Of Reason by HEAVY PSYCH SOUNDS Records

Desert Storm commits to a single mission on Buried Under the Weight of Reason: delivering crushing, irresistible grooves from start to finish. Though lesser bands often bail on a great hook too early, Desert Storm has the confidence to lock in and let a sequence breathe like a fine wine, avoiding the common pitfall of over-complicating a riff before it reaches its zenith. Their controlled songwriting approach shines on the “Woodsman” and “Shamanic Echoes,” where the group adds nuance through minimalist, hook-heavy phrasing that feels both exciting and fresh. “Rot to Ruin” and “Cut Your Teeth” utilize spacious, bluesy transitions to reset the listener’s palate before building toward massive payoffs. The latter succeeds because the quartet holds back, patiently waiting for the precise moment to strike with a mammoth closing riff. The album closes with “Twelve Seasons,” a standout track that balances technical complexity and eccentricity with Desert Storm’s conviction to mine every ounce of a groove’s energy until it runs bone-dry.

Matthew Ryan’s vocals have historically been Desert Storm’s hollow point, but on Buried Under the Weight of Reason, they arrive with a newfound polish and reliability. Hitting with a grizzled, Crowbar-like growl, Ryan provides a solid—albeit largely safe—foundation that underpins Desert Storm’s low-frequency bulk. While Ryan’s vocals struggle to elevate the plethora of high-caliber riffs, they sit comfortably in the mix, serving their purpose without overreaching. Inconsistencies surface, however, on “Woodsman,” where mechanical chanting feels like a unique angle tripped up by its own peculiarity. More jarring is “Dripback,” where Ryan’s barking cadence feels a bit too unhinged, overshadowing an otherwise great groove. Beyond the vocal performance, the compressed mix masks the finer nuances—like the cowbell on “Twelve Seasons”—and the quartet’s commitment to the almighty riff sometimes results in songs feeling overextended. While Desert Storm’s “groove-first” philosophy is surely their strength, it leads to some bloat on the record’s longer cuts (“Rot to Ruin,” “Shamanic Echoes”). Additionally, the inclusion of the interlude “Carry the Weight” feels pointless in the context of the album’s flow.

But for Desert Storm, Buried Under the Weight of Reason is a cause for celebration. By knowing and staying largely within their established limits, the group has created not only a good record, but easily their best to date. While it occasionally oversteps its bounds or struggles to maintain its momentum, the songwriting and groove are infectious enough to have every head in the club bobbing in unison. Their sharpest effort to date, with enough weight to kill an elephant, Buried Under the Weight of Reason is a damn good time and a reminder that sometimes, that’s all a record needs to be.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Heavy Psych Sounds
Websites: desertstorm.bandcamp.com/music | desertstormband.com | facebook.com/desertstormuk
Releases Worldwide: March 6th, 2026

For nearly two decades, Desert Storm has stood at the cornerstone of England’s fuzz-drenched underground. One can imagine my surprise, then, to find that I claim the first review of their catalog here. The group’s maturation has been a process of trial and error, evolving from smoky, blues-soaked stoner and southern rock roots into a heftier, sludgy, doom-infused form. Despite the unevenness of the Oxford outfit’s earlier efforts—Forked Tongues and Horizontal Life—Desert Storm’s more recent output (specifically Sentinels and Omens) found that sweet spot where sludge, doom, and stoner rock collide. While 2023’s Death Rattle saw these lads largely revisiting their old psychedelic ways, their seventh record, Buried Under the Weight of Reason, reverses course with a Saharan surge of down-tuned, resonant grooves and explosive riff drops poised to shatter many a bong.

As the opening notes of “Newfound Respect” hit, Buried Under the Weight of Reason reveals itself as a blunter, more dynamic beast than its predecessors. The guitars have thickened into a sludge/doom/stoner hybrid of epic proportions, blending Boss Keloid-like phrasing (“Rot to Ruin,” “Newfound Respect”) with Baronessian textures (“Twelve Seasons,” “Law Unto Myself”) and even the occasional djenty chug (“Cut Your Teeth,” “Rot to Ruin”). Huge, low-slung riffs drive Desert Storm’s definitive songwriting pattern. Songs lurch between stampeding verses and clean, crestfallen bridges, often featuring playful bass flourishes and blues refrains. Elliot Cole’s drums hit with massive, tom-forward authority. Each booming strike fuses with new bassist Andrew Keyzor (ex-Beard of Zeuss), carving deep pockets on tracks like “Woodsman” and “Shamanic Echoes.” By the time the first few tracks roll by, it’s obvious that Buried Under the Weight of Reason finds Desert Storm operating squarely in their wheelhouse.

DESERT STORM – Buried Under The Weight Of Reason by HEAVY PSYCH SOUNDS Records

Desert Storm commits to a single mission on Buried Under the Weight of Reason: delivering crushing, irresistible grooves from start to finish. Though lesser bands often bail on a great hook too early, Desert Storm has the confidence to lock in and let a sequence breathe like a fine wine, avoiding the common pitfall of over-complicating a riff before it reaches its zenith. Their controlled songwriting approach shines on the “Woodsman” and “Shamanic Echoes,” where the group adds nuance through minimalist, hook-heavy phrasing that feels both exciting and fresh. “Rot to Ruin” and “Cut Your Teeth” utilize spacious, bluesy transitions to reset the listener’s palate before building toward massive payoffs. The latter succeeds because the quartet holds back, patiently waiting for the precise moment to strike with a mammoth closing riff. The album closes with “Twelve Seasons,” a standout track that balances technical complexity and eccentricity with Desert Storm’s conviction to mine every ounce of a groove’s energy until it runs bone-dry.

Matthew Ryan’s vocals have historically been Desert Storm’s hollow point, but on Buried Under the Weight of Reason, they arrive with a newfound polish and reliability. Hitting with a grizzled, Crowbar-like growl, Ryan provides a solid—albeit largely safe—foundation that underpins Desert Storm’s low-frequency bulk. While Ryan’s vocals struggle to elevate the plethora of high-caliber riffs, they sit comfortably in the mix, serving their purpose without overreaching. Inconsistencies surface, however, on “Woodsman,” where mechanical chanting feels like a unique angle tripped up by its own peculiarity. More jarring is “Dripback,” where Ryan’s barking cadence feels a bit too unhinged, overshadowing an otherwise great groove. Beyond the vocal performance, the compressed mix masks the finer nuances—like the cowbell on “Twelve Seasons”—and the quartet’s commitment to the almighty riff sometimes results in songs feeling overextended. While Desert Storm’s “groove-first” philosophy is surely their strength, it leads to some bloat on the record’s longer cuts (“Rot to Ruin,” “Shamanic Echoes”). Additionally, the inclusion of the interlude “Carry the Weight” feels pointless in the context of the album’s flow.

But for Desert Storm, Buried Under the Weight of Reason is a cause for celebration. By knowing and staying largely within their established limits, the group has created not only a good record, but easily their best to date. While it occasionally oversteps its bounds or struggles to maintain its momentum, the songwriting and groove are infectious enough to have every head in the club bobbing in unison. Their sharpest effort to date, with enough weight to kill an elephant, Buried Under the Weight of Reason is a damn good time and a reminder that sometimes, that’s all a record needs to be.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Heavy Psych Sounds
Websites: desertstorm.bandcamp.com/music | desertstormband.com | facebook.com/desertstormuk
Releases Worldwide: March 6th, 2026

Sylosis – The New Flesh Review

Sylosis has been quietly plugging along in the background for years, a band that, in my anecdotal experience,…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #Architects #BritishMetal #CA #Canada #Entertainment #Feb2026 #HeavyMetal #LambofGod #Metalcore #NuclearBlast #review #reviews #Sylosis #TheNewFlesh #ThrashMetal
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/484198/

Sylosis – The New Flesh Review

Sylosis has been quietly plugging along in the background for years, a band that, in my anecdotal experience,…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #Architects #BritishMetal #Entertainment #Feb2026 #HeavyMetal #LambofGod #Metalcore #NuclearBlast #review #Reviews #Sylosis #TheNewFlesh #ThrashMetal #UK #UnitedKingdom
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/433077/

Sylosis has been quietly plugging along in the background for years, a band that, in my anecdotal experience, many have heard of, but few listen to. When I go to shout about the greatness of albums like Monolith or Dormant Heart from the highest peaks, it seems to fall on deaf ears. No more, I say! Lead vocalist and guitarist Josh Middleton has led the band since Edge of the Earth. As the last remaining original member, he became the de facto songwriter and soul of a group that has seen many members over the years and near dissolution during Middleton’s time with Architects. After returning to Sylosis full-time, the band is on their third release in this latest era, The New Flesh. Marking the second album since Middleton purposefully set a new direction with A Sign of Things to Come. While the title references David Cronenberg’s Videodrome, is The New Flesh transformative for the band or a refinement?

Dormant Heart was the closing chapter on a trio of unfuckwithable albums that deftly melded viscous thrash, modern core sensibilities, and instrumental tangents with guitar heroics rivaling the best bands out there. Post 2020 put the band on a new path, and The New Flesh offers a continuation and evolution of their previous record. For a band with so many past members, their latest shows zero signs of flagging. Clearly, Middleton’s direction has been a north star for the band, and nothing on The New Flesh will surprise longtime fans.

The New Flesh by Sylosis

Sylosis’s obsession with riffs remains intact, and The New Flesh is chock-full of them like every record before it. Middleton’s vocals are as powerful as ever, and his range remains impressive. The band seems almost always to avoid the worst parts of metalcore clean singing, and there is so much pathos in his delivery that you can hear the venom dripping from every word. “All Glory, No Valour” is a drumming tour de force for Ali Richardson, whose feats keep up with Middleton and Conor Marshall’s barreling riffs. It isn’t all roses, though, and Ben Thomas’s low end gets lost in the overly clean modern metal production. While there is enough there to give the riffs proper weight, the bass only occasionally shines and is rarely present without straining your ears.

The New Flesh’s creative focus only occasionally falters, and any song that has one or two individual weak spots has twice as many head-banging turn-arounds. The slightly uninspired chorus of “Erased” is quickly forgotten amid the song’s infectious groove, chest-thumping ethos, and refrain of “Here’s your parting gift,” before it drops into delirious riffing and devastating pick-scraping. Album closer “Seeds In The River” features a bit of tired metaphor, but also has some of the best riffs on the record, and more than enough to keep listeners coming back. The only real blemish on The New Flesh is a tale as old as time, a misplaced ballad. While Sylosis has never shied from clean singing or big melodic swings, “Everywhere At Once” may be the band’s first true “ballad,” and it shows. It lacks the atmosphere of similar songs on past albums like Dormant Heart’s “Quiescent” or the soaring riffs and bombasticity of “Abandon” on Cycle of Suffering. It is entirely skippable, with generic musings about missing family when touring that feel trite compared to Sylosis’ usual lyrical targets and vitriolic delivery.

Outside of those few stumbles, The New Flesh is nearly spotless. “Circle Of Swords” feels like a makeup track after dropping a ballad on the listener, giving some much-needed headbanging whiplash. “Beneath The Surface” kicks things off in wild fashion, “Lacerations” is a stadium melter, and “Spared From The Guillotine” is one of Sylosis’ most unhinged tracks in the last decade. Sans ballad, The New Flesh, is ten tracks of furious, solid, and infectious metal that feel essential in an era lacking in just good old-fashioned headbangers. The band finds a spot where the speed and technical sensibility of thrash meld with the belligerent energy of core and the hooky riffs of groove metal. For modern metal fans, Sylosis deserves a spot at the forefront. Where older acts like Lamb of God seem to have basically lost the creative energy that originally drove them, The New Flesh is here to offer up a no frills heavy metal record that leaves all pretense at the door after kicking it down. Sylosis has more than earned its seat among the modern metal greats, and The New Flesh only further cements that legacy.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: www.sylosis-band.com | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: February 20th, 2026

Sylosis has been quietly plugging along in the background for years, a band that, in my anecdotal experience, many have heard of, but few listen to. When I go to shout about the greatness of albums like Monolith or Dormant Heart from the highest peaks, it seems to fall on deaf ears. No more, I say! Lead vocalist and guitarist Josh Middleton has led the band since Edge of the Earth. As the last remaining original member, he became the de facto songwriter and soul of a group that has seen many members over the years and near dissolution during Middleton’s time with Architects. After returning to Sylosis full-time, the band is on their third release in this latest era, The New Flesh. Marking the second album since Middleton purposefully set a new direction with A Sign of Things to Come. While the title references David Cronenberg’s Videodrome, is The New Flesh transformative for the band or a refinement?

Dormant Heart was the closing chapter on a trio of unfuckwithable albums that deftly melded viscous thrash, modern core sensibilities, and instrumental tangents with guitar heroics rivaling the best bands out there. Post 2020 put the band on a new path, and The New Flesh offers a continuation and evolution of their previous record. For a band with so many past members, their latest shows zero signs of flagging. Clearly, Middleton’s direction has been a north star for the band, and nothing on The New Flesh will surprise longtime fans.

The New Flesh by Sylosis

Sylosis’s obsession with riffs remains intact, and The New Flesh is chock-full of them like every record before it. Middleton’s vocals are as powerful as ever, and his range remains impressive. The band seems almost always to avoid the worst parts of metalcore clean singing, and there is so much pathos in his delivery that you can hear the venom dripping from every word. “All Glory, No Valour” is a drumming tour de force for Ali Richardson, whose feats keep up with Middleton and Conor Marshall’s barreling riffs. It isn’t all roses, though, and Ben Thomas’s low end gets lost in the overly clean modern metal production. While there is enough there to give the riffs proper weight, the bass only occasionally shines and is rarely present without straining your ears.

The New Flesh’s creative focus only occasionally falters, and any song that has one or two individual weak spots has twice as many head-banging turn-arounds. The slightly uninspired chorus of “Erased” is quickly forgotten amid the song’s infectious groove, chest-thumping ethos, and refrain of “Here’s your parting gift,” before it drops into delirious riffing and devastating pick-scraping. Album closer “Seeds In The River” features a bit of tired metaphor, but also has some of the best riffs on the record, and more than enough to keep listeners coming back. The only real blemish on The New Flesh is a tale as old as time, a misplaced ballad. While Sylosis has never shied from clean singing or big melodic swings, “Everywhere At Once” may be the band’s first true “ballad,” and it shows. It lacks the atmosphere of similar songs on past albums like Dormant Heart’s “Quiescent” or the soaring riffs and bombasticity of “Abandon” on Cycle of Suffering. It is entirely skippable, with generic musings about missing family when touring that feel trite compared to Sylosis’ usual lyrical targets and vitriolic delivery.

Outside of those few stumbles, The New Flesh is nearly spotless. “Circle Of Swords” feels like a makeup track after dropping a ballad on the listener, giving some much-needed headbanging whiplash. “Beneath The Surface” kicks things off in wild fashion, “Lacerations” is a stadium melter, and “Spared From The Guillotine” is one of Sylosis’ most unhinged tracks in the last decade. Sans ballad, The New Flesh, is ten tracks of furious, solid, and infectious metal that feel essential in an era lacking in just good old-fashioned headbangers. The band finds a spot where the speed and technical sensibility of thrash meld with the belligerent energy of core and the hooky riffs of groove metal. For modern metal fans, Sylosis deserves a spot at the forefront. Where older acts like Lamb of God seem to have basically lost the creative energy that originally drove them, The New Flesh is here to offer up a no frills heavy metal record that leaves all pretense at the door after kicking it down. Sylosis has more than earned its seat among the modern metal greats, and The New Flesh only further cements that legacy.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: www.sylosis-band.com | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: February 20th, 2026

Sylosis has been quietly plugging along in the background for years, a band that, in my anecdotal experience, many have heard of, but few listen to. When I go to shout about the greatness of albums like Monolith or Dormant Heart from the highest peaks, it seems to fall on deaf ears. No more, I say! Lead vocalist and guitarist Josh Middleton has led the band since Edge of the Earth. As the last remaining original member, he became the de facto songwriter and soul of a group that has seen many members over the years and near dissolution during Middleton’s time with Architects. After returning to Sylosis full-time, the band is on their third release in this latest era, The New Flesh. Marking the second album since Middleton purposefully set a new direction with A Sign of Things to Come. While the title references David Cronenberg’s Videodrome, is The New Flesh transformative for the band or a refinement?

Dormant Heart was the closing chapter on a trio of unfuckwithable albums that deftly melded viscous thrash, modern core sensibilities, and instrumental tangents with guitar heroics rivaling the best bands out there. Post 2020 put the band on a new path, and The New Flesh offers a continuation and evolution of their previous record. For a band with so many past members, their latest shows zero signs of flagging. Clearly, Middleton’s direction has been a north star for the band, and nothing on The New Flesh will surprise longtime fans.

The New Flesh by Sylosis

Sylosis’s obsession with riffs remains intact, and The New Flesh is chock-full of them like every record before it. Middleton’s vocals are as powerful as ever, and his range remains impressive. The band seems almost always to avoid the worst parts of metalcore clean singing, and there is so much pathos in his delivery that you can hear the venom dripping from every word. “All Glory, No Valour” is a drumming tour de force for Ali Richardson, whose feats keep up with Middleton and Conor Marshall’s barreling riffs. It isn’t all roses, though, and Ben Thomas’s low end gets lost in the overly clean modern metal production. While there is enough there to give the riffs proper weight, the bass only occasionally shines and is rarely present without straining your ears.

The New Flesh’s creative focus only occasionally falters, and any song that has one or two individual weak spots has twice as many head-banging turn-arounds. The slightly uninspired chorus of “Erased” is quickly forgotten amid the song’s infectious groove, chest-thumping ethos, and refrain of “Here’s your parting gift,” before it drops into delirious riffing and devastating pick-scraping. Album closer “Seeds In The River” features a bit of tired metaphor, but also has some of the best riffs on the record, and more than enough to keep listeners coming back. The only real blemish on The New Flesh is a tale as old as time, a misplaced ballad. While Sylosis has never shied from clean singing or big melodic swings, “Everywhere At Once” may be the band’s first true “ballad,” and it shows. It lacks the atmosphere of similar songs on past albums like Dormant Heart’s “Quiescent” or the soaring riffs and bombasticity of “Abandon” on Cycle of Suffering. It is entirely skippable, with generic musings about missing family when touring that feel trite compared to Sylosis’ usual lyrical targets and vitriolic delivery.

Outside of those few stumbles, The New Flesh is nearly spotless. “Circle Of Swords” feels like a makeup track after dropping a ballad on the listener, giving some much-needed headbanging whiplash. “Beneath The Surface” kicks things off in wild fashion, “Lacerations” is a stadium melter, and “Spared From The Guillotine” is one of Sylosis’ most unhinged tracks in the last decade. Sans ballad, The New Flesh, is ten tracks of furious, solid, and infectious metal that feel essential in an era lacking in just good old-fashioned headbangers. The band finds a spot where the speed and technical sensibility of thrash meld with the belligerent energy of core and the hooky riffs of groove metal. For modern metal fans, Sylosis deserves a spot at the forefront. Where older acts like Lamb of God seem to have basically lost the creative energy that originally drove them, The New Flesh is here to offer up a no frills heavy metal record that leaves all pretense at the door after kicking it down. Sylosis has more than earned its seat among the modern metal greats, and The New Flesh only further cements that legacy.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: www.sylosis-band.com | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: February 20th, 2026

Sylosis has been quietly plugging along in the background for years, a band that, in my anecdotal experience, many have heard of, but few listen to. When I go to shout about the greatness of albums like Monolith or Dormant Heart from the highest peaks, it seems to fall on deaf ears. No more, I say! Lead vocalist and guitarist Josh Middleton has led the band since Edge of the Earth. As the last remaining original member, he became the de facto songwriter and soul of a group that has seen many members over the years and near dissolution during Middleton’s time with Architects. After returning to Sylosis full-time, the band is on their third release in this latest era, The New Flesh. Marking the second album since Middleton purposefully set a new direction with A Sign of Things to Come. While the title references David Cronenberg’s Videodrome, is The New Flesh transformative for the band or a refinement?

Dormant Heart was the closing chapter on a trio of unfuckwithable albums that deftly melded viscous thrash, modern core sensibilities, and instrumental tangents with guitar heroics rivaling the best bands out there. Post 2020 put the band on a new path, and The New Flesh offers a continuation and evolution of their previous record. For a band with so many past members, their latest shows zero signs of flagging. Clearly, Middleton’s direction has been a north star for the band, and nothing on The New Flesh will surprise longtime fans.

The New Flesh by Sylosis

Sylosis’s obsession with riffs remains intact, and The New Flesh is chock-full of them like every record before it. Middleton’s vocals are as powerful as ever, and his range remains impressive. The band seems almost always to avoid the worst parts of metalcore clean singing, and there is so much pathos in his delivery that you can hear the venom dripping from every word. “All Glory, No Valour” is a drumming tour de force for Ali Richardson, whose feats keep up with Middleton and Conor Marshall’s barreling riffs. It isn’t all roses, though, and Ben Thomas’s low end gets lost in the overly clean modern metal production. While there is enough there to give the riffs proper weight, the bass only occasionally shines and is rarely present without straining your ears.

The New Flesh’s creative focus only occasionally falters, and any song that has one or two individual weak spots has twice as many head-banging turn-arounds. The slightly uninspired chorus of “Erased” is quickly forgotten amid the song’s infectious groove, chest-thumping ethos, and refrain of “Here’s your parting gift,” before it drops into delirious riffing and devastating pick-scraping. Album closer “Seeds In The River” features a bit of tired metaphor, but also has some of the best riffs on the record, and more than enough to keep listeners coming back. The only real blemish on The New Flesh is a tale as old as time, a misplaced ballad. While Sylosis has never shied from clean singing or big melodic swings, “Everywhere At Once” may be the band’s first true “ballad,” and it shows. It lacks the atmosphere of similar songs on past albums like Dormant Heart’s “Quiescent” or the soaring riffs and bombasticity of “Abandon” on Cycle of Suffering. It is entirely skippable, with generic musings about missing family when touring that feel trite compared to Sylosis’ usual lyrical targets and vitriolic delivery.

Outside of those few stumbles, The New Flesh is nearly spotless. “Circle Of Swords” feels like a makeup track after dropping a ballad on the listener, giving some much-needed headbanging whiplash. “Beneath The Surface” kicks things off in wild fashion, “Lacerations” is a stadium melter, and “Spared From The Guillotine” is one of Sylosis’ most unhinged tracks in the last decade. Sans ballad, The New Flesh, is ten tracks of furious, solid, and infectious metal that feel essential in an era lacking in just good old-fashioned headbangers. The band finds a spot where the speed and technical sensibility of thrash meld with the belligerent energy of core and the hooky riffs of groove metal. For modern metal fans, Sylosis deserves a spot at the forefront. Where older acts like Lamb of God seem to have basically lost the creative energy that originally drove them, The New Flesh is here to offer up a no frills heavy metal record that leaves all pretense at the door after kicking it down. Sylosis has more than earned its seat among the modern metal greats, and The New Flesh only further cements that legacy.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: www.sylosis-band.com | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: February 20th, 2026