#canadian-metal — Public Fediverse posts

Finally the rain has stopped falling and the ducts are dry. Musty and filled with bodies of lost minions, maybe, but dry. This means that I can send my remaining minions in to trudge for gems and nuggets on double time—same pay of course. And for a great cause!

Okay maybe not a great cause, but at least a decently good cause. Someone’s got to let the people know what decently good things came out in July, after all. BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s House of Horrors

Mourir // Nous, le Venin [July 10th, 2026 – Self Released]

The French have proven to be masters at writing spine-tingling black metal, from Blut Aus Nord’s Disharmonium albums to Hasard’s horrifying symphonic soundscapes. Add to that list the atmoblack group Mourir, with their third record, Nous, le Venin, a work that unsettles with dissonant riffs and deranged shrieks and shouts. They combine DSBM-style vocals with the sort of melodic tremolos played by Pure Wrath in a sinister concoction that’s simultaneously entertaining and horrifying. Dissonance creates a Veilburner topsy-turvy effect that catches listeners off-guard, as evidenced late on “Mon Rêve Animal,” which drifts into an improvisational, jazzy drum solo that’s weird but also cool. Similar to Hasard, Mourir play with tons of energy, running blast beats in breathless suicide sprints that barely give you time to find your bearings. Yet Mahell’s kit work also demonstrates plenty of diversity. “Ennui Ennemi” is a case study, from the opening fits and starts to furious blast beats to a complete cessation of drums as suspense builds from slow, discordant chords. There are plenty of artsy touches utilizing lengthy passages of silence—”Je Est Absent” contains notes of chilling riffs that break the fragile peace. The riffs are no slouch either, wavering between enjoyable melodic tremolos and hair-raising chords of terror. If you like your black metal unconventional, you’ll find plenty to enjoy, and to unsettle, on Nous, le Venin, which may or may not leave your sanity intact.

Profane Burial // Desolate Echoes of Turmoil [July 24th, 2026 – These Hands Melt]

Not wanting to be outdone by the French, Norway’s Profane Burial throw their hat in the ring for some bone-chilling tunes on their third full-length album, Desolate Echoes of Turmoil. Dear Hollow enjoyed their prior release, 2024’s My Plateau, calling it “scatterbrained and wonky” and “a fun-as-hell symphonic black metal foray.” The orchestral music combined with the unsettling guitar work has the feel of a cinematic score, something that could accompany the whimsical horror of Sweeney Todd. The record has touches of Dimmu Borgir, but with the sinister discordance of this year’s other symphonic horror black metal release from Vesseles. Profane Burial seeks to challenge, with dense layers of chugging guitars underpinning the sound, but additional layers of guitar allow for some noodling to creep in so the music doesn’t leave you completely cold. While Desolate Echoes of Turmoil doesn’t lure you in with hooks, it’s still plenty mesmerizing in its atmospheric guitar work and icy blast beats. The symphonic portions often play second fiddle to the guitars and drums, but prove exhilarating on the likes of “Triumph of Dreadful Aftermath,” a true symphony of horrors. It’s challenging, it’s avant-garde, and it’s dense, yet something about Desolate Echoes of Turmoil weaves a spell that lures listeners into its twisted cinematic soundscape.

Creeping Ivy’s Varied Velocities

Frolic // Legacies of Cybernetica [July 3rd, 2026 – Hectic Records]

Initially, I thought thrash could only rage through hellscapes, warscapes, and other such scary ‘scapes. But then I finally heard Death Angel’s Frolic Through the Park (1988), which showed me that the genre could happily move in a carefree way through natural spaces. I have to think that Frolic, a thrash band from the Bay Area, derived its name from the imperative verb found on the classic sophomore album by the Bay Area thrash legends. After all, this Hayward foursome forge a fun thrash core, consisting of frenzied finger-tapping, technical gallops, and glorious guitarmonies (“Legacies of Cybernetica”). There’s nothing natural, however, about the seven Legacies of Cybernetica Frolic bequeath to listeners, in the form of their own sophomore effort. Indeed, “Disasters of Experiments” shows guitarists Edgar Sánchez and Lenny “Real Steel” Ramirez ripping riffs and solos at ungodly speeds, while “Living in Virtuality” leads bassist Zak Kufeld to strut his highly active bass tone, supported by the dexterous drumming of Elijah Post. “A Shattered Soul” perfectly encapsulates the band’s talent for making tasty, tight jams feel adventurous. Sánchez’s rasps overlay a blackened exterior onto modern, technical thrash that should excite fans of Warbringer, Havok, and the like. The rhythm guitar tone is a bit wetter than I’d like, and the nine-minute title track does stall the album somewhat out the gate. But overall, Legacies of Cybernetica strolls along at 38 minutes, consistently kicking ass and heralding a promising voice in thrash.

Slow Goat // Where the Wisest Fear to Tread [July 10th, 2026 – Self Released]

I had no idea goats were fast creatures. Apparently, they can travel anywhere between 15 and 40 miles per hour, depending on whether they’re domesticated or wild. Their sprightliness isn’t a reason why goats are so heavily associated with black metal, but it’s a happy accident, at the very least. Given their surprising speed (at least to me), it makes sense that a metal band named Slow Goat would play stoner-doom. On Where the Wisest Fear to Tread, this Portland, OR foursome’s debut, stoner-doom comes in an assortment of flavors. In their most domesticated moments, Slow Goat deal in straightforward bangers that let the sultry mid-range of vocalist Rosie Peterson shine, recalling the skulking and skittering of a Castle Rat (“Fallen Child”). On the untamed side of things, bassist Adam Carter and drummer Eric Bloombaum become more central, initiating jammy slow burns that waft like a waving Windhand (“Visions/Fell Ritual”). Feeling more like domesticated wildness is a track like “Sisyphus,” where guitarist Dan Black conjures classic Khemmis via fuzzy melodic riffs with some get up n’ go. Where the Wisest Fear to Tread may be a bit overlong at 46 minutes, but there’s enough variety within a limited paradigm to keep things interesting. The doomy descent of closer “Under the Glass,” coupled with Peterson’s dynamic vocal performance and Black’s concluding shreddery, leaves me happily wanting more from these Portlanders. If and when it drops, I’ll be hurtling towards Slow Goat’s sophomore album with goat-like speed.

Grin Reaper’s Melodic Mistreaters

Sigyn // From Nation to Chaos [July 10th, 2026 – Noble Demon]

Generally speaking, Finnish melodeath is my favorite melodeath,1 and Sigyn’s sophomore effort From Nation to Chaos brims with all the goodies I love. Key-forward compositions adorned with soaring guitars and hooks sharp enough to pierce iron2 litter From Nation’s runtime with ear candy galore. Echoing Finnish titans Omnium Gatherum and Children of Bodom, Sigyn clearly understands how to weave ultra-sticky melodies into tightly crafted tracks that teem with slick production and toothsome bite. “Break These Chains” shimmers with chilling synths à la I Worship Chaos, and the key-bleating from “Blind Prophet” would sound at home on The Burning Cold or Origin. Besides luxuriating in honey-sweet melodeath, Sigyn dabbles with Nightwish-informed orchestrations that call to mind Imaginaerum (“The Crawlers”) and Endless Forms Most Beautiful (“World in Flames”). Although the influences ring clearly, Sigyn mixes them together in a way that sounds inspired and honed to lodge in your memory bank for days on end. In a month that had fewer quality releases than the bounty that graced us earlier in the year, From Nation to Chaos embodies a Sigyn of better things to come.

Galneryus // A Cry from the Sky Above [July 15th, 2026 – Warner Music Japan]

The quality of Galneryus records may fluctuate from release to release, but the Japanese export has one of the most consistently high floors in all of metal. Galneryus returned in July with their sixteenth album, and even if it doesn’t assail listeners with any new tricks, A Cry from the Sky Above delivers a bevy of raucous moments that inspire air guitar heroics and singalong anthems. Harnessing the hard-rocking sensibilities of X Japan and straining them through the technical ecstasy of Symphony X, Galneryus once again captivates with their grasp of how fun power metal can be. “The Light of Hope” starts off with an 80s synth intro ripped straight out of Europe3 before giving way to Syu’s six-string capers and Masatoshi Ono’s velvety tenor. “Beyond the Sunrise” unleashes Rhapsody-reminiscent neoclassical licks, “Break the Silence!” allows Yuhki to discharge unhinged key theatrics, and “To the Last Breath” roars with Angrafied thunder. Sure, maybe A Cry from the Sky Above sports some warts considering the final two tracks’ excessive runtimes or a diminished adventurousness compared to earlier albums, but Galneryus also forges another satisfying platter that should please longtime fans and give newcomers a taste of the band’s enduring longevity and potency.

The Scepter // Shadows in the Tower [July 24th, 2026 – No Remorse Records]

Clocking in at a shade under half an hour,4 Canadian collective The Scepter discharged their full-length debut back in July. Around the time of Shadows in the Tower’s release, The Scepter caught a nice bit of press for playing a heavy metal show at a hospital for a patient unable to see any. And while they deserve credit for headlining such a great cause, this is no sympathy plug—The Scepter strikes hard and trve. “Riding Out” kicks off the album with self-assured swagger and BIG Maiden Energy (BME), where the main riff echoes “Aces High” to thrilling effect. Meanwhile, “Where Art Thou” doubles down on BME with calls to “Losfer Words (Big ‘Orra)” and “The Duelists.” Despite the obvious Powerslave influence, though, Shadows in the Tower does plenty to separate itself from simply being a clone. The Scepter also reminds me of Fili Bibiano’s Fortress and fellow hosers Ültra Raptör, balancing glossy guitar work with chest-thumping choruses. The production sports retro grit without feeling dated, the snappy solos flash with blitzkrieg brevity, and the ending dyad of “Taarakian Blood” and “Shadows in the Tower” blaze with anthemic glory and are worth the price of admission alone. Now go, step into the Shadows in the Tower and activate your pleasure reScepters.

Show 4 footnotes

1. With notable exceptions. ↩
2. Their ability to penetrate Steel remains… woefully undetermined. ↩
3. “Carrie,” specifically. ↩
4. Less the thrashy Journey cover, which is a pretty fun bonus track. ↩

On third album, Witch Wife in an Alien World, Smoulder sounds confident and uniquely themselves as they wield their brazen wares. On debut Times of Obscene Evil and Wild Daring, the Canadian ensemble delved into epic doom that plodded and pounded with towering riffs and heaving, swollen builds. In 2023, Smoulder released follow-up Violent Creed of Vengeance, which introduced more diverse tempos that stoked the fire and urgency of their compositions. Now three years later, Smoulder returns with Witch Wife in an Alien World, a forty-three-minute platter mixing heavy metal with hard-rocking doom that never lacks for enthusiasm. Back in 2022, some members of Smoulder moved to Finland, and at some point singer Sarah Ann and guitarist Shon Vincent tied the knot,1 providing the basis of experiences on which Witch Wife in an Alien World is built. Tackling topics such as the increasing disconnection between people and feelings of isolation after immigrating to a new country, Smoulder sets out to confront real-world topics through the lens of fantastical fancy. Does their approach set the World on fire?

Appreciation for Witch Wife in an Alien World hinges entirely on whether listeners embrace Sarah Ann’s distinctive vocal stylings. Where Violent Creed’s mix allowed her performances to blend with the instrumentation, Witch Wife puts her brash swagger front-and-center, which is guaranteed to turn heads. Her deliveries ooze with conviction, but sometimes erupt into heavy-handed pomp that distracts rather than fostering the sword-swinging bravado that (I assume) Smoulder seeks. “Shadow of the Vulture” supplies an early example of these theatrics, which bluster with ardent gusto. From a technical standpoint, Sarah Ann leans heavily into her vibrato, often pulsing quickly between frequencies that seem a far cry from her performance on Times. There are also moments scattered throughout Witch Wife where the notes and pitches we hear don’t mesh with what the songs demand, surprising me given this was a strength on previous albums.

The songs that bookend Witch Wife in an Alien World prove the album’s strongest cuts. Opener “Water World” bounces with vim and vigor, exploring nifty riffing, artful bass grooves, and deft kitwork in an intricate web of instrumentation that illustrates Smoulder’s maturation of layered songwriting. “Shadow of the Vulture” does the same while adding a rowdy gang chorus that evidences a band doing whatever they want and thoroughly enjoying it. Speaking of gang choruses, closer “Smouldering Remains” fumes with a simple refrain that sticks like gum in hair, leaving me humming it for hours afterwards. Longtime guitarists Shon Vincent and Collin Wolf impart epic leads that gleam like iron and steel while bassist Adam Blake rumbles with a low-end heft that keeps Smoulder anchored in rhythm. Meanwhile, drummer Kevin Hester propels the album along with a restless performance that lends a simmering velocity throughout Witch Wife. Even Smoulder’s live guitarist Henkka (Havukruunu) pops in to unleash a solo on half-English, half-Finnish track “Noitien Loitsu.”

Though Witch Wife’s bookends enliven Smoulder’s latest, the middle of the album sags under the weight of more uniform pacing. To be fair, mid-paced songs with gang vocals define my favorite moments on Witch Wife in an Alien World, so it’s not as if these moments intrinsically decelerate the album. It’s just that the lack of fiery leads and more diverse tempos that made Violent Creed of Vengeance so much fun are in short supply. “Crush the Neophytes” slinks through fun and creative moments, but they don’t provide enough fodder to sustain its seven-minute runtime. Similarly, “Empathy’s Wrath” and “Their Name Lives On” occupy similar sonic spaces, and stringing these tracks together stifles momentum through Witch Wife’s middle. Revising the track order or adding a snappy change-of-pace during this run may have alleviated the mid-record doldrum.

Witch Wife in an Alien World finds Smoulder offering a conglomeration of slick licks and doom-addled atmospheres that imbue the arrangements with one-of-a-kind amusements. The songs don’t always click with me, but when they hit, they do so with righteous thunder. Throughout, Smoulder sounds trve to themselves and Witch Wife never feels like it compromises on what the band set out to make, and I respect the hell out of that. All told, Smoulder evinces a band following their dream of crafting metal they love, and anyone that wants to follow is welcome. So go ye faithful, venture forth into Witch Wife’s Smouldering domain and see what awaits.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Cruz Del Sur Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: October 9th, 2026

Netherwilds – Peasant Rising Review

When 2026 started, I had no history with indie rock group Tokyo Police Club’s frontman David Monk or…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #4.5 #Avant-gardeMetal #BlackSabbath #CanadianMetal #Entertainment #FolkMetal #hardcore #KingVolumeRecords #Netherwilds #Oct26 #PeasantRising #Refused #review #reviews #SepticFlesh #Slayer #SystemofaDown #TokyoPoliceClub
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/872357/

Netherwilds – Peasant Rising Review

When 2026 started, I had no history with indie rock group Tokyo Police Club’s frontman David Monk or…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #4.5 #avant-gardemetal #BlackSabbath #CA #Canada #CanadianMetal #Entertainment #FolkMetal #hardcore #KingVolumeRecords #Netherwilds #Oct26 #PeasantRising #Refused #review #reviews #SepticFlesh #Slayer #SystemofaDown #TokyoPoliceClub
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/922208/

Netherwilds – Peasant Rising Review

When 2026 started, I had no history with indie rock group Tokyo Police Club’s frontman David Monk or…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #4.5 #Avant-gardeMetal #BlackSabbath #CanadianMetal #Entertainment #FolkMetal #hardcore #KingVolumeRecords #Netherwilds #Oct26 #PeasantRising #Refused #review #Reviews #SepticFlesh #slayer #SystemofaDown #TokyoPoliceClub #UK #UnitedKingdom
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/792942/

https://www.europesays.com/uk/1238230/ Netherwilds – Peasant Rising Review #2026 #45 #AvantGardeMetal #BlackSabbath #CanadianMetal #Entertainment #FolkMetal #Hardcore #KingVolumeRecords #music #Netherwilds #Oct26 #PeasantRising #refused #Review #Reviews #SepticFlesh #Slayer #SystemOfADown #TokyoPoliceClub #UK #UnitedKingdom

If the rest of this album is even half as good as Return the Goat, this is going to feature on a lot of year end lists. Canadian (folk/black/hardcore) metal rules!!

https://netherwilds.bandcamp.com/album/peasant-rising

#Netherwilds #Folkmetal #CanadianMetal #Hardcore

When 2026 started, I had no history with indie rock group Tokyo Police Club’s frontman David Monk or his viral TikTok peasant-sona Worm Chewer. But when the lead single of Monk’s avant-garde “peasant metal” side project Netherwilds dropped—”Return the Goat”—Peasant Rising immediately shot to my most anticipated release of the year. That snapshot of blackened hardcore folk was wild in a way I couldn’t have anticipated. The promise of a concept album following Worm Chewer’s peasant revolution involving mud mages, witch hunters, and Druidic battlemechs only sweetened the deal.1 But I’m also seeing high expectations for an untested band’s debut in Peasant Rising, something that could easily smite Netherwilds’ fairytale ending. Is Peasant Rising a kingmaker, or are Netherwilds’ ambitions…feudal?

To my knowledge, nothing else sounds like Peasant Rising. Netherwilds pushes thrash, industrial, hard rock, black metal, and doom through a sieve of eclectic Refusedesque hardcore and romanticized medieval folk. Between EDM drums meeting crossover thrash on “Helm Yeah,” “Dungeon Song” trading hypnotic folk with blackened blasts, and theater choir setting the stage for double-f’d-up tuff groove on “The Fall,” there’s always something novel happening with Peasant Rising. Like a ye olde Systemme of a Downe, every disparate genre thrives symbiotically in Netherwilds’ sound, stacking strength upon strength into a distinct, singular identity. Two ubiquitous factors tie Peasant Rising together sonically: folk aesthetics and insanely catchy hooks. Led by Monk’s bouzouki, folk instrumentation offers continuity whenever Netherwilds jumps from hardcore riffing (“Farmer’s Armoury”) to Slayer-informed thrash (“Return the Goat”) to acoustic industrial groove (“Blight!”) and back. With this creativity come well-earned earworms. Hear the radio-ready “The Ballad of Sir Gregory” or the atmospheric “Cry in the Hay,” or any one of the bombastic choirs across Peasant Rising and you’ll be humming them before you know it. It’s one thing to sound one-of-a-kind; it’s another to also sound as sharp, vital, and catchy as Peasant Rising.

What makes Netherwilds’ genre witchcraft so compelling is how it forwards the narrative told on Peasant Rising. Aided by many short narrative interludes,2 Peasant Rising tells a story of desperation, oppression, and revolution. Each beat is met with an appropriate musical identity. Worm Chewer’s belligerently drunk early ideations of rebellion are captured in the raucous ragers of “Peasant Pit” and “Helm Yeah,” while his tighter, more focused calls to revolution in “The Fall” and “Return the Goat” come later. SepticFlesh-like symphonic death riffs and choirs on “Heretic” characterize the seething sanctimoniousness of the king’s Inquisition, while the grimy Sabbathian doom riffs on “Wickermech” sell the monstrosity of its titular war machine. Guitar solos are few on Peasant Rising, but when Worm Chewer feels badass on “The Ballad of Sir Gregory” or unspeakably livid on “Return the Goat,” you’d best believe they come out ripping. Netherwilds play with an ear for hooks and a mind for narrative, portraying Peasant Rising’s tale in convincing earnestness.

That earnestness is what most surprised me about Peasant Rising; I never expected to be as moved by Netherwilds as I was amused by them. Eager to hype up Worm Chewer’s “Siege Proof Hovel” or “show these nobles who’s King of the Crops” (“Peasant Pit”), Netherwilds are just as equipped to bear the cruelty of the ruling class and show Worm Chewer at his lowest: “cry in the hay and call it a prayer” (“Cry in the Hay”). Encapsulating Peasant Rising’s narrative identity is one brilliant metaphor: the goat. The object of jilted remorse on “Peasant Rising,” the goat transforms as Worm Chewer radicalizes (“Siege Proof Hovel”), suffers oppression and degradation (“Dungeon Song”), and galvanizes the Humble Horde (“Farmer’s Armoury”). By the time we reach “Return the Goat” in Peasant Rising’s climax, the goat isn’t just a metaphor for the peasants’ labor being exploited by the parasitic nobility but also Worm Chewer’s self-respect and dignity. “Take me for no fool,” he implores. Despite the farce of Peasant Rising, I must oblige.

Merging grand storytelling, dark humor, a keen social consciousness, and some of the wildest compositions out there, Netherwilds swing Peasant Rising like a battering ram against the gates of Metaldom. Rarely has a record been so affecting as it is fun as Peasant Rising. Inventive and approachable, high-minded and down-to-earth, Netherwilds lived up to the hype and then some. The boon of hard labor and relentless creativity, Peasant Rising is a debut Netherwilds can hang their helmet on. Don’t be the village idiot; take up your pitchfork and get with Peasant Rising.

Rating: Excellent
DR: 83 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: King Volume Records
Websites: netherwilds.bandcamp.com | facebook.com
Releases Worldwide: October 9th, 2026

Endspace – First Contact Review

Death metal cornered the metal-and-SF market ages ago, but black metal has moved on its turf in recent…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #...andOceans #2026 #3.0 #AU #Australia #BlackMetal #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #ElectronicMetal #Endspace #Entertainment #FirstContact #FractalGenerator #Imperialist #IndustrialMetal #Krallice #LabyrinthusStellarum #MorbidAngel #Oct26 #review #reviews #TranscendingObscurityRecords #Vorga
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/917079/

https://www.europesays.com/ie/720777/ Endspace – First Contact Review #AndOceans #2026 #30 #BlackMetal #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #Éire #ElectronicMetal #Endspace #Entertainment #FirstContact #FractalGenerator #IE #Imperialist #IndustrialMetal #Ireland #Krallice #LabyrinthusStellarum #MorbidAngel #Music #Oct26 #Review #Reviews #TranscendingObscurityRecords #Vorga

Death metal cornered the metal-and-SF market ages ago, but black metal has moved on its turf in recent years. Bands like Imperialist and Vorga adopt the aesthetic trappings and lyrical conceits of science fiction while trem-picking their guitars and blast-beating their drums. Others, like Labyrinthus Stellarum, go further, giving the music itself an alien, otherworldly quality by heavily incorporating electronic instruments. Checking all these boxes are Canadian duo Endspace: a cover that looks like the Tesseract from Interstellar, numbered “Transmissions” as song titles, a healthy dose of synthesizers and vocoders. And yet, Endspace seem to go even further, claiming they ‘create music that is light years ahead of what we’re accustomed to hearing.’ In deigning to make First Contact with us earthbound mortals, Endspace set extra-galactic expectations for their debut album.

To craft an experimental take on black metal, Endspace draw from veterans of experimental death metal. Shrouded in mystery (and masks [and shrouds]), a bit of internet research reveals that the band is comprised of 040118180514 and 102119200914. You might recognize these UPC codes from Fractal Generator, whose grindy brand of technical death incorporated touches of blackness. On First Contract, Endspace render black metal the centripetal force, though elements of its members’ necrotic origins orbit in the distance. The expected cacophony of blast beats and trem riffs initiates the call (“First Transmission”), but it doesn’t take long for a Krallicey version of black metal to surface (“Second Transmission”) and resurface (“Sixth Transmission”) via futuristic finger tapping. Endspace also know where the intergalactic slime lives, occasionally doling out some downright filthy riffage, reminiscent of Domination-era Morbid Angel (“Third Transmission,” “Seventh Transmission”). First Contact feels like black metal at its core, yet it doesn’t feel completely pinned down by it.

The big question is whether First Contact’s electronic instrumentation comes off as sci-fi style or substance. As a constant presence, the vocoders are constitutively substantive. Vocals usually mold an evil/aggro mood in black metal, so filtering the harshness through vocoders does give them a distinct artistic purpose within the genre. Indeed, the vocals read as radio waves: electromagnetic radiation wending its way through spacetime (“Fourth Transmission”). The synthesizers also ever-presently vibrate throughout First Contact, though Endsapce occasionally spotlight them. Midway through the “Fifth Transmission,” for example, the duo bust into an EDM-style bounce akin to …and Oceans, sure to get nightclubs on Nebulon 5 raving. The relatively dense production ends up being something of a Fermi paradox. Everything is discernible, but I can’t help but want more breathing room and, ergo, vaster soundscapes. And yet, I imagine Endspace wanted to capture the suffocating vacuum that is outer space. Despite the odds, they provide evidence of extraterrestrial civilization, though not as profoundly as advertised.

Endspace achieve a surprising degree of listenability for their experimental space-black by hitting a few Goldilocks zones. Concerning track length, no single “Transmission” feels like a fleeting intimation of weirdness, given the three-plus minute minimum. And yet, at a maximum of under five minutes, no “Transmission” feels like a desultory smorgasbord of ideas, either. Each possesses its own identity, whether it’s the floating guitar work of the “Second Transmission,” the house pulsations of the “Fifth Transmission,” or the creepy buzzings of the “Ninth Transmission.” Concerning album length, Endspace know not to overdo it on a First Contact, as evinced by the under 40-minute runtime. The album benefits from its plurality of vibes, even as its track naming convention suggests conceptual holism. The overt death metal stylings of the third and seventh “Transmission”s keep the album fresh without sounding like obtuse space junk. The name of the game is establishing lines of communication, some of which will pique a listener’s curiosity more than others.

And pique my curiosity Endspace did, continually. I wouldn’t go so far, though, as to categorize their debut as utterly avant-garde. First Contact challenges, but it readily engages more than it seems like it would. It consistently interests even as it lacks true standout moments (“Fifth Transmission” notwithstanding). This may be to Endspace’s future benefit, as the duo demonstrates focus on forging a unique sound, rather than forcing listeners to trace an arbitrary line between celestial objects. Endspace have a bigger, bolder transmission in them, it’s safe to say. For this, we patiently wait on Sol 3, with our antennas open to the callings of the cosmos.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 2nd, 2026

#ThursDeath this week is this sick new 'Clanche' split from Quebec's GORGERIN and British Columbia's WET ROT. Double the Canada, double the grody nastiness. This is an awesome split- kinda deathgrindy at times, too.

Gorgerin side:
https://gorgerin.bandcamp.com/album/clanche-split-with-wet-rot

Wet Rot side:
https://wetrot.bandcamp.com/album/split-w-gorgerin-3

#metal #DeathMetal #Canada #DeathGrind #Quebec #BritishColumbia #CanadianMetal #WetRot #Gorgerin #splits #MetalSplits @HailsandAles @wendigo @rtw @guffo @AlfeeDee @c0m4 @Kitty @umrk @flockofnazguls @swampgas @nnenov @ttntm @Affekt

Canadian cellist Raphael Weinroth-Browne probably needs no introduction at this point, which is a bit surprising, given that this is a metal blog. He first graced these halls in 2015 through The Visit, and, as a soloist, in early 2020 with the spectacular Worlds Within. By now, his “not not metal” approach to cello is a familiar comfort to this reviewer in particular. He is a frequent guest on my year-end lists, and I always look forward to his work, especially since last year’s Lifeblood, which—hang on, that was just last year? Turns out Weinroth-Browne has been busy over the last little bit, with his third full-length, Empyrean, coming less than a year after the last. That might be an indication we should be wary, or maybe the man is simply filled with good ideas. Let’s find out.

Empyrean is different than most everything Raphael Weinroth-Browne has done recently. Generally, I think of his work as being neo-classical, but there’s a clear metal influence in what he does that acts as a sort of anchor to his work—certainly Lifeblood had a heavy spine that guided much of its direction. But Empyrean began its days as a commission from a contemporary dance company, an invitation for Weinroth-Browne to build a score for a show called BACH Reimagined. The metal influence is there, of course, but this time intertwined with baroque sensibilities. As a result, it is less tangible, more open, and really highlights the “classical.” Tracks flow in and out of each other without clear breaks—I often check my player around track four (the dream-like “Murmuration”), surprised to realize I’m not on the first song anymore. Nowhere near it, in fact—Empyrean is stealing my sense of time.

That is the album’s main strength: it flows. Not quite like Worlds Within, where everything was re-dedicated around core ideas, but in a natural, airy way that just sort of glides from one idea to the next without looking back. The brief-yet-dramatic romp of “Remnant” becomes the journeying “Evocation” before you know it, and it’s not until “Integration” (track five!) that I notice we’ve moved well past the opener. Speaking of “Evocation,” it’s a gorgeous song and an album highlight. It swells softly, capturing an adventurous feeling with impressively quiet grace. Later, “Reflection” brings in more of that metal influence Raphael Weinroth-Browne knows and loves, with percussion and backing riffs that support a searching, soaring melody. It maintains the quiet dignity Empyrean is built on while still feeling like the kind of thing you might read about on a metal blog—”classic” Raphael Weinroth-Browne. Of course, we get there without really realizing we’ve gotten there; it doesn’t flow seamlessly from the earlier “Sanctum,” but the groundwork is laid so well that it doesn’t feel out of place on an album much more classical than I’d expected.

I could argue that the flow of Empyrean is perhaps its greatest drawback too. There are many great ideas on Empyrean that appear once only and are quickly discarded as the unyielding cello moves to its next idea. On Lifeblood, the longer track lengths often meant we stayed with one central idea for an extended length of time, building around it and creating something impactful. While Empyrean is ten full minutes shorter (around 48 minutes over nine tracks), it feels somehow longer as the songs blend and occasionally lose ground transitioning from one ephemeral idea to the next. We end the journey with the title track, which sets down a gorgeous melody that builds and swells and fades, but never really goes anywhere or does anything. It’s beautiful, but it’s restrained. That may just be the metalhead in me talking—Empyrean takes us further from our “comfort zone” (in that this is a metal blog) than previous Raphael Weinroth-Browne albums—but it does feel like Empyrean is not as focused as it could be.

In fact, Empyrean feels almost like an improvisation, like Raphael Weinroth-Browne is speaking through his instrument, freehand, and inviting us to just listen. It’s a great way to spend the better part of an hour, and it sounds beautiful as ever—he is a master of his instrument. Empyrean feels a touch unfocused compared to previous releases, but if you want to just close your eyes and follow the threads of this journey, it is still as rewarding and enriching an experience as I’ve come to hope for.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self release
Websites: raphaelweinroth-browne.bandcamp.com | raphaelweinrothbrowne.com | facebook.com/raphcello
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

#CanadianMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ThrashMetal

カナダの異端バンドVoivodは、スラッシュメタルをSFと実験精神で再構築し、プログレッシブ・メタルの未来像を切り開いた

monumental-movement.jp/column-voivod/

【コラム】 Voivod：SF、核戦争、プログレッシブ化する...

#ThursDeath this week is this great DYING REMAINS record from last year, 'Merciless Suffering'. More great metal from Canada. Has a cool almost Skeletonwitch feel- the drums are unreal and relentless, great riffage and solos, these rad, rough growl-bark vocals, it's all here. Another Maggot Stomp gem. I always find myself coming back to it.

https://dyingremains-maggotstomp.bandcamp.com/album/merciless-suffering

#metal #DeathMetal #Canada #Calgary #CanadianMetal #CanadianBands #CalgaryBands #CalgaryMetal #MaggotStomp @HailsandAles @wendigo @rtw @guffo @AlfeeDee @c0m4 @Kitty @umrk @flockofnazguls @swampgas @nnenov @ttntm @Affekt

I’ve recently decided to devote more attention to self-released projects. Some of the most interesting metal exists far outside the usual channels, grinding away in the shadows while willing listeners dig beneath the surface for uncut gems. Saskatchewan, Canada’s Destroy My Brains has been doing exactly that since its 2017 self-titled debut, following it with 2017’s Worthless EP and three additional full-lengths: InsignifiCan’t, Lifeless and Tormented. Together, the initials of those releases spell “Wilt,” which is the title of Destroy My Brains’ fifth album. Wilt brings a nine-year creative arc full circle and promises to be as rife with hate, desperation, and hunger as the Wendigo on the cover.1 Are you ready to get your brains destroyed?2

Wilt quickly establishes itself as a far more vicious beast than its predecessors. Where earlier releases wielded a Crowbar to bludgeon listeners, Wilt is less interested in forcing its way through the back door than going straight for the jugular with an unrelenting assault. Opener “OCI (Obsessive Compulsive Imploder)” evokes the cavernous heaviness of Conan, particularly through Jarret Beach’s acidic, piercing vocal shrieks, while breakdowns, filthy chords, and blast beats blur the line between sludge and death metal. Jadan Paluck’s drumming drives much of Destroy My Brains’ sound, with his tight tom work and frenetic rhythms on cuts like “Wilt,” “Decontribute”3 and “Avulsion” standing apart from sludge’s customary thunder. His performance injects a distinct edge and fuels much of the album’s aggression as the guitars alternate between doomy crawls and groove-laden chugs. The hardcore influence of Snapcase (“Burn the Virgin”) and the corrosive sludge of Buzzov•en (“Downgrade”) also leave their mark, adding some variety to Destroy My Brains’ abrasive and confrontational approach.

Wilt succeeds in plowing you over with unequivocal hate and hostility for close to an hour, but several tracks sprawl beyond what their ideas can support. Relying on extended intros and lengthy runtimes that test patience, tracks like “Decontribute,” “Burn the Virgin,” and “Avulsion” lock into muscular grooves built on churning riffs and crusty chords that deliver some of the record’s most memorable hooks. However, much like the rest of the record, these songs demonstrate that Destroy My Brains is capable of delivering the goods when operating with discipline, but too often allows its strongest material to drift beyond its natural limits. Wilt’s excess reaches its zenith on the self-titled fourteen-minute closer, which again contains worthwhile ideas but lacks the focus necessary to justify its length. “OCI (Obsessive Compulsive Imploder)” and “Downgrade” are the only tracks that run less than seven minutes and, while more succinct, I found myself distracted by the uneven production, which emphasizes Paluck’s drumming and Beach’s shouts more than anything else.

Production woes have historically challenged Destroy My Brains, and Wilt is no different. Though clearly improved from past efforts, Wilt’s production still turns many of the album’s assets into distractions. It captures the performances well, but the mix often feels unbalanced and dominated by an overbearing bass drum that pushes the guitars further into the background than they should be while overwhelming everything else. This is immediately apparent on “OCI (Obsessive Compulsive Imploder)” which tests the resilience of one’s speakers with its pounding double-bass. As Wilt progresses, its production issues become increasingly difficult to ignore, with late tracks “Spill” and “Downgrade” sounding noticeably rougher than the songs preceding them and Beach’s shrieks becoming tiresome. Speaking of which, Beach’s vocals will undoubtedly be Wilt’s most divisive element. His vitriolic delivery is equal parts vicious and intensely grating, particularly as he spits venom about heavy subjects like trauma, abuse, psychological collapse, and obsessive-compulsive disorder.

Destroy My Brains certainly has potential, and there is some good material to be found here. The performances are sound, yet Wilt suffers from many of the same maladies that plagued past releases, with bloat and production woes consistently rearing their ugly heads throughout the album. While these are common growing pains for bands, Destroy My Brains has now had five albums to course correct and is still working out kinks. Wilt is an album I sadly won’t pick back up for future listens, though I’ll be curious to see where their path leads next.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: destroymybrains.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/DMBdestroymybrains
Releases Worldwide: August 14th, 2026

I’ve wrestled with this intro more than I typically do. There’s a joke in here somewhere about how the title, The Violence of Time could only be charitably described as “unfortunate.” I’ve had flashbacks to mandatory HR meetings, to that brief time I worked for a house painting company, and that one day a relative wanted to give me a long and detailed story about health issues involving sores on her bum. But no amount of witticisms and anecdotes can properly convey the fact that this album, for its strengths (such as they are), is boring. Ghastly, appallingly boring. Eternal Drak have descended from Canada with their fourth album, a blueprint of all the ways blackened thrash ought not to be executed.

So what’s the good news? He used a blade Eternal Drak at least have some peak production, with the drumming from Ben1 arriving with some amphitheater-style thunk and reverb. As a whole, The Violence of Time sounds mixed with old school heavy metal ethos and has echoes of classic rock in the spaciousness of sound. The lush DR confirms this, with the uncredited bass lines pulsing away under dueling guitars. Everything is open, letting the occasional air-guitar-inducing leads like in “The Unborn Paths Rot” cut through the mix with a semblance of energy before collapsing into straight-ahead chugs. The few bits of double bass and blast beats in moments like “Across the Watching Veils” never drown out the licks and riffs, while vocalist Drakar howls with a screech that echoes over the proceedings. The production is of genuine quality, and it’s a good template for this style.

The bad news is The Violence of Time is amongst the most drab, listless, flaccid releases I’ve ever heard. It’s astounding how Eternal Drak have managed to take a genre known for its vim and vigor and cranked out an album devoid of true highlights, energy, or memorability. The few leads sound almost cliched in their approach, like the worlds safest imitation of what good thrash shredding is supposed to sound like, and are gone as quickly as they start. The vast majority of the songs operate in mid-gear, with the occasional spurts of speed collapsing back into monotonous mid-paced chugging. “The Cosmos Rejects You” really tries to sell its main chorus as a violent, mountain-crushing moment with Ben blasting his heart out, but repeatedly returns to verses which try to be atmospheric but only serve to be anticlimactic. “No Direction Total War” falters as an album climax with a short chorus repeated to the point of obnoxiousness, and opening track “We Force It to Speak” aspires to be a dramatic curtain-raising kickoff, but its monotonous repetition and lethargic lead style only serve to be an accurate warning to the listener for what lies within.

Experiments, adventurousness, and memorable moments are so minuscule as to be almost nonexistent. The biggest curveball comes by way of “The Blasphemy of Time” with a blast-beat suddenly introducing uncredited lady vocals for a chorus. She sounds swell, but her sudden arrival is jarring, used for isolated lines rather than anything approaching texture or layering. Eternal Drak try their own hand at cleans with “Breathing Once Again”, a completely unnecessary power ballad in the middle of an already sluggish album, with Drakar doing his best Godsmack impression without the hefty chords to back him up. In point of fact, these two flirtations with clean vocals are the only memorable element of The Violence of Time, for better and worse. I’ve rarely heard an album that objectively has high BPM and still manages to sound this slow. The leads are boring. The riffs are boring. The incessant abuse of chugging is boring. The constant waltz time signatures over what should be atmospheric and menacing scales are boring. This album isn’t blackened as much as dimmed, and doesn’t thrash as much as wriggle, and given the potency of the genre, that’s a real shame.

Eternal Drak have dropped the safest album I’ve heard all year, carefully engineered to be as inoffensive and bland as possible. Amnesia-inducing, insomnia-conquering, and performed with the conviction that surely everything played is friggin’ awesome, The Violence of Time is as memorable as your college statistics class, as delightful as your grocery store having a sale on lint brushes, and as intense as toddlers pillowfighting. It’s genuinely disappointing, as the production really is fantastic, and I’d kill to hear some actually worthwhile songs presented in this soundscape. I’d say I look forward to forgetting this album, but it does an excellent job erasing itself from your memory on its own as soon as each playthrough concludes. For audiophiles and genre diehards only; I’m off to go find another album which will be less violent with my time.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: FirstWave Studio
Website: Album Bandcamp2
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/uk/1098258/ Apogean – Waste Where Life Begins Review #20 #2026 #Alterbeast #Apogean #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Eschaton #Inferi #Jul26 #music #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheArtisanEra #UK #UnitedKingdom #ValeOfPnath #WasteWhereLifeBegins

Apogean – Waste Where Life Begins Review

In the game of reviews, expectations can either be a blessing or a curse. Whichever way they fall,…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.0 #2026 #Alterbeast #Apogean #AU #Australia #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Eschaton #Inferi #Jul26 #review #reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheArtisanEra #ValeofPnath #WasteWhereLifeBegins
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/809636/

https://www.europesays.com/ie/593010/ Apogean – Waste Where Life Begins Review #20 #2026 #Alterbeast #Apogean #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #Éire #Entertainment #Eschaton #IE #Inferi #Ireland #Jul26 #Music #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheArtisanEra #ValeOfPnath #WasteWhereLifeBegins

Apogean – Waste Where Life Begins Review

In the game of reviews, expectations can either be a blessing or a curse. Whichever way they fall,…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.0 #2026 #Alterbeast #Apogean #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Eschaton #Inferi #Jul26 #review #Reviews #technicaldeathmetal #TheArtisanEra #UK #UnitedKingdom #ValeofPnath #WasteWhereLifeBegins
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/699156/

Apogean – Waste Where Life Begins Review

In the game of reviews, expectations can either be a blessing or a curse. Whichever way they fall,…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.0 #2026 #Alterbeast #Apogean #CA #Canada #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Eschaton #Inferi #Jul26 #review #reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheArtisanEra #ValeofPnath #WasteWhereLifeBegins
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/810820/

And so, after an evening of reading I ended up listening to Thantifaxath. These Canadians will make sure that after listening to their very dissonant, but very avant garde black metal your mind is saturated.

I remember watching them perform at Soulcrusher as closing band, jaw on the floor the whole show and afterwards only wanting to go to bed. Saturated with music, filled to the brim with weird notes.

👥 Thantifaxath
💿 Hive Mind Narcosis
🔗 https://musiccloud.io/7ikuz

#BlackMetal #AvantGardeBlackMetal #CanadianMetal #Dissonant #Metal

In the game of reviews, expectations can either be a blessing or a curse. Whichever way they fall, one truth remains: expectations are a bitch. It’s a hard lesson that Canadian technical death metal outfit Apogean is about to learn firsthand. Back in 2024, the then largely unknown quintet—with little more than a single EP to their name—released their debut full-length, Cyberstrictive. Inspired by Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, it was a dystopian barrage of assaulting technical death metal that paired jaw-dropping musicianship with memorable riffs and great songwriting, making it my most played record of the year. I crowned it my Album O’ the Year during my budding n00b days for this site, so when Waste Where Life Begins was announced, I was stoked. At the same time, however, the specter of the dreaded sophomore slump loomed large. Could Apogean make it two in a row after a list-topping debut, or would the weight of expectations prove too much to overcome?

Unfortunately, Waste Where Life Begins doesn’t come close to matching its predecessor, and the reasons are twofold. First, where Cyberstrictive was unabashedly a tech death record à la Vale of Pnath or Inferi, Waste Where Life Begins plants its flag much closer to deathcore and blackened death. Cuts like “Lie in Cinder” and “Waste Where Life Begins” make this shift painfully obvious, with endlessly chugged caveman riffs, half‑time knuckle‑dragging rhythms and tropey guitar squeals and string rakes. It’s easy to point to lineup turnover as the culprit behind the stylistic change—guitarist Gabriel Castro and drummer Jacob Wagner gave way to Jack Post and Doug Noel, respectively—but that doesn’t make the transformation any less jarring. To be sure, traces of their explosive past still exist. “Nassaru” and “Hologram (Singing Silently on an Empty Stage),” for example, are adrenalized tracks with the spunky riffing and technicality that worked so well before. Dexter Forbes’ and Post’s guitar solos also elicit plenty of flashy fretwork, but Waste Where Life Begins feels like Apogean has traded in their sports car for a lifted truck, to its detriment.

Second, Waste Where Life Begins would work far better as an EP. Despite running only thirty-three minutes, the record somehow feels long, like Apogean strained to add material. The album’s disjointed sequencing reinforces this impression, pushing and pulling in conflicting directions, and the completely purposeless interlude “Ritual” adds nothing except the suspicion that someone insisted on hitting a minimum runtime. Some songs embrace unadorned composition (“Daughter of Oak,” “Lie in Cinder,” and the title track), while others attempt to recapture the cybernetic stylings of old (“Black Smoke, Bleeding Earth,” “Hologram (Singing Silently on an Empty Stage), “Nassaru”), resulting in a bifurcated flow with little sense of cohesion. Further compounding matters is the repetitive songcraft. The first third relies so heavily on the same chugging and squealing guitar patterns that they begin to blur together, as if a song’s worth of ideas were stretched across multiple tracks.

Apogean remains a highly talented group, and Waste Where Life Begins contains enough strong performances to suggest a return to form for these lads remains within reach. Vocalist Mac Smith (Eschaton, ex-Alterbeast) and drummer Doug Noel, in particular, deliver impressive performances throughout. Smith grabs my attention with his dynamic range of growls, rasps, guttural belches, and pig squeals, effortlessly shifting between techniques and tones. His vocals sound downright burly and well-defined in the mix, consistently drawing my focus back to his performance. Noel is equally impressive, bringing a much-needed degree of versatility to the songwriting. His playing ranges from bludgeoning, syncopated grooves on tracks like “Nassaru” and the title track to raucous blast beats on “Black Smoke, Bleeding Earth” and “White Trees, Black Leaves,” all accented by some snazzy cymbal work that adds color to an otherwise flat palette.

I won’t sugarcoat it: Waste Where Life Begins is a disappointment. After eagerly anticipating a follow-up to Cyberstrictive, I’m left unsatisfied by a record that abandons much of what made its predecessor so great. The energetic, virtuosic, and memorable songwriting that defined Cyberstrictive has largely been replaced by a middling blend of deathcore and blackened death. Apogean’s decision to broaden its sound is certainly understandable, especially given the recent lineup changes, but this new direction is a clear step back. Apogean surely has the talent to right the ship, but Waste Where Life Begins is yet another example of the dreaded sophomore slump.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: The Artisan Era
Websites: apogean.bandcamp.com/music | facebook.com/ApogeanOfficial
Releases Worldwide: July 10th, 2026

In his review of Eaten by Sharks’s debut, Eradication, Carcharodon mollified readers about the dangers of sharks by citing statistics. However, statistics don’t erase the fact that sharks look like the stuff of nightmares—and they do sometimes eat people. Most of us prefer to experience this vicariously through film, where we learn sharks are quite versatile killers. They might surprise you while you’re skinny dipping and thrash you around a bit before dragging you underwater. Or one might burst through the floor of an underwater research facility and chomp you in half. There are also more subtle methods of death, like finding yourself stranded in the middle of the ocean when a shark bites your leg and then swims off, leaving you to slowly bleed to death. Canada’s Eaten by Sharks throw their own narrative hat in the ring on their second album, The Undertow of Hate, a dark and brutal vision of violence in the deep seas.

The songs on The Undertow of Hate behave just like killer sharks—they’re brutal, shifty, violent, and efficient. Eaten by Sharks achieve this through a deathcore-adjacent style of death metal that straddles the line between Fit for an Autopsy and Cattle Decapitation. Down-tuned, chugging guitars and pummeling blast beats provide an atmosphere of dark violence, and the high-energy music feels like a rallying cry for sharks in a feeding frenzy. Eaten by Sharks also dip into The Black Dahlia Murder-style melodeath on the likes of the speedy and entertaining “Bodies Overboard” and “Crimson Tide.” The Undertow of Hate isn’t all pedal to the metal, though. It often pauses for slower moments, surveying the outcome of the violence with pithy observations like “Look at all the bodies” (“Bodies Overboard”). The progressive nature of the music ensures a narrative flow rather than a mere repetition of ideas.

Eaten by Sharks have produced a masterwork of horror in terms of atmosphere and storytelling. Borrowing from horror stalwarts Fulci, they integrate atmospheric soundbites into the opening of each song. Far from being annoying or gimmicky, these touches meld naturally into the music. Opener “Vessels Torn” combines gentle guitar riffs, crying seagulls, and the straining of a ship against the waves before plunging into the violence of guitars and growls. Other tracks open with people screaming in terror, splashes of water, underwater bubbles, and even a soundbite from the original Jaws. These touches help immerse the listener in the grisly setting and add a layer of depth to the pummeling music. It all culminates in a brilliant outro, “Surfaced Remains,” which uses surprisingly lovely arpeggios and some audio tricks to give the sense of bodies rising to the surface, making for a poignant, if nihilistic, conclusion to the record.

The musicians overcome a pretty bad mixing job to put together an album that sounds much better than it should. I think it helps that Eaten by Sharks doesn’t overwhelm with a busy mix—they take a rather simple, though effective, approach to the music. The drums from Justin Whitehead may be a touch too loud, but he lays the framework for violence with some powerful blast beats, while taking things down a notch as the narrative requires. The dual guitar work from Chris Chaperon and Dan Oko helps instill a sense of the unfolding chaos through the use of dissonant, off-kilter riffs. Yet they also incorporate some impressive shredding, technical wizardry, and memorable melodic touches, which help allay the oft-used repetitive chugging. Matt Sherriff puts together an impressively schizophrenic performance behind the mic. His convincing swap between deep throaty growls and rasping snarls gives the impression of a second vocalist. On the terrific “Treading Water,” he demonstrates a melodic storytelling capacity that’s just a blast to listen to.

The attention to detail throughout The Undertow to Hate shows that these guys had a ton of fun with the concept. I do wish Eaten by Sharks had provided a lyrics sheet because Sherriff delivers a number of gems. When he rasps “there’s fucking bodies in the water” on “Crimson Tide,” it’s a chilling, almost gleeful, reminder of the destruction wrought. Touches like these help cover up some other flaws, especially the rather simplistic and sometimes headache-inducing loud chugging guitar/drum/growl combo. Nonetheless, this will end up as one of the year’s most memorable listening experiences. If you love brutal death metal featuring effective storytelling and plenty of wiolence, then you need to go out and get Eaten by Sharks.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: CDN Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

A brutal, crushing #ThursDeath this week with debut LP 'Putrescence' by Toronto's COPROLITH. The riffs are relentless, the drums are pounding. The last song is the single, I listened to a ton of it before this came out, and it still strikes me how great it is every time I hear it. What an amazing record. Cavernous as fuck. Easily one of my favorite metal records this year so far.

https://mesacounojo.bandcamp.com/album/putrescence

#metal #DeathMetal #Canada #CanadianMetal #Toronto #Ontario #Coprolith #2026Albums #2026Records @HailsandAles @wendigo @rtw @swampgas @guffo @AlfeeDee @c0m4 @nnenov @ttntm @Kitty @umrk @flockofnazguls @pephorror @Affekt

I spent much of the summer of 2020 languishing in my bedroom. There, I discovered new/new-to-me music at an unprecedented rate. Bat Out of Hell, Mana, Endarkenment, The Pagan Manifesto—escapism or catharsis, I needed it all. But one record stands out to me as the Covid album, and that’s Protest the Hero’s Palimpsest. A buckwild interrogation of the American Dream through historical reinterpretation via orchestral progressive metalcore, it took me away from the present moment while still working out the societal demons and frustrations that surrounded me. It’s dope. 2020 AOTY. Six years later, the Canucks are back, bearing their first independent release Within. With the perennial lineup of singer Rody Walker and guitarists Luke Hoskin and Tim MacMiller, joined by session bassist Cameron McLellan and drummer Nathan Bulla, can Protest the Hero capture the zeitgeist as they did back in those dark times?

Would you believe that Within is another frenetically bombastic opus of proggy, punky goodness? Well, you’d better! Protest the Hero haven’t skipped a beat when it comes to controlled chaos, slathering Within with winding, propulsive vocal runs, drum fills, and guitar tweedily-dweedilies. Echoes of Palimpsest’s symphonic grandeur remain in cuts like “Liberty Spike” and “Mouthpiece,” but Protest the Hero on Within take that grandiosity and hone it into a sharper, punkier blitz on “Fishhook” and “The Orchard,” recalling Rise Against or Propagandhi to me. But Protest the Hero also relishes in unadulterated progressive metal, bouncing around ridiculous rhythms on closer “The Mariner” and asking on “Grandfather’s Axe” what it’d sound like if At the Drive-In and Faith No More jammed over a Testament riff. Interludes “i. above” and “ii. below” offer brief but crucial respite, as Within has a ton to say and licks to play and only thirty-nine minutes to do so. Through Within, Protest the Hero take yet another massive, victorious step in their sonic evolution.

What sticks with me after every listen of Within is how gobsmackingly beautiful it sounds. Protest the Hero have long known how to tie heartstring-tugging melody into their compositions,1 but Within is exceptional even by their own standards. For how hectic the guitar runs on “Grandfather’s Axe” and “The Orchard” are, they still manage to raise goosebumps by their bespoke melodicism. At the core of Protest the Hero’s exquisiteness is Walker’s emotive vocals. Some may find his deliveries too eclectic, injecting enough bizarre inflections and hybrid clean-harsh lines for the average System of a Down song, but there’s no doubting the talent and heartfelt power behind his voice. Like on Palimpsest, Protest the Hero can send a song home in truly hair-raising fashion on Within, like in the fist-pumping conclusion of “Mouthpiece,” the chest-beating lamentations of “The Orchard,”2 or the emotionally-charged apex of “The Mariner.” In these climactic moments, Protest the Hero’s melodic sensibilities shine brightest.

Crucially, Within’s jitteriness and elegance are all in service to its lyrics and themes. Playing off the axiom of “As within, so without,” Protest the Hero explore how one’s outer world shapes one’s inner world. Songs on Within expound on this idea by existing in concert with each other. “Mouthpiece” proudly beats the “No War but Class War” drum while follow-up “Fishhook” details the speaker’s strident relationship with his crotchety old neighbor, complicating that call to unity. “Grandfather’s Axe” and “The Orchard” both deal with nostalgia, with the former seemingly about clinging to the past for personal identity3 while the latter wrestles with communal legacies being erased by capital greed. Finally, the final duo highlights the vitality of community for personal support and meaning; “Liberty Spike” sees what happens when someone is deprived of it, while “The Mariner” shows what happens when it saves someone. Every victory, every tragedy, every aching and bleeding heart Protest the Hero have to offer are in service to these ideas on Within. And man, it works.

I fell in love with Protest the Hero when it seemed society was dying. Within arrives to help remind me that Man’s Better Nature may one day win out. Within may not be as grand or thematically poignant as Palimpsest, but it’s leaner, more personal, and just as brazenly weird and charmingly earnest as Protest the Hero has ever been. Within can make you mad if you let it. It can make you weep internally and, if you’re given to that sort of thing, externally, too. Now go hug your mothers and quit being a dick to your neighbors!

Rating: Great!
DR: 74 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps MP3
Label: Independent
Websites: protestthehero.ca | facebook.com/protestthehero | protestthehero.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

Samguineous Maximus

Even for the largest artists in a particular subgenre, music is always a fight to maintain. Bands aren’t so much static guarantees as they are constant negotiations between careers, families, artistic stagnation, diminishing returns, and ever-present global enshittification. Protest the Hero is a band that understands this better than most, as the Canadian prog-metallers have endured significant stylistic and personnel changes over their 20+ year career. Their evolution has remained compelling, from the Dostoyevsky-inspired brashness of debut Kezia to the nautical expanse of Pacific Myth, but 2020’s Palimpsest represents their ultimate apotheosis. That record found Rody Walker holding a grim mirror to modern America, using vignettes from the nation’s past to illuminate its present calamities, while Luke Hoskin’s compositions finally gave those ideas the space and gravitas they demanded, bolstered by gorgeous orchestration. It felt like the culmination of the band’s musical evolution and remains one of my favorite albums of all time. Six years later, Within arrives with enormous shoes to fill. Despite another apparent personnel shift, it was reportedly composed much like its predecessor. So, how does it measure up—not only to Palimpsest, but to the rest of their formidable discography?

Within doesn’t follow directly in the sonic footsteps of its immediate predecessor; instead, it presents an awe-inspiring amalgamation of the band’s prior efforts, informed by the songwriting lessons showcased on Palimpsest. Protest the Hero still sound unmistakably like themselves, providing that signature blend of sugar-rush, major key energy, maximalist guitar pyrotechnics, and sneering operatic vocals resulting in their trademark punk-driven progressive metalcore. These songs mostly split the difference between the passion-forward, chaotic post-hardcore of Volition and the more considered songwriting acrobatics of Pacific Myth, then drape the whole thing in Palimpsest’s cinematic nuance—albeit with subtler, less telegraphed versions of that record’s customary third-quarter pullbacks. Across six proper tracks and two orchestral interludes, the band pinballs between ADHD-brain guitar catnip, absurdly sticky melodic choruses, and lyrical climaxes that detonate with undeniable pathos. What’s most impressive is how deftly PtH weaves these moments into cohesive compositions. The tracklist contains clear sonic distinctions, from gang-vocal-fueled punk onslaughts (“Grandfather’s Axe”) to wide-open, hook-driven expanses (“The Orchard”), yet each song pivots so naturally between contrasting sections that, even at peak instrumental maximalism, the result feels immediately listenable rather than merely “look-at-me” impressive.

It’s a given that the performances on this thing would be monstrous, but where PtH always excels is using their absurd technicality to augment the thematic push and pull of their compositions. Luke Hoskin’s insane guitar theatrics5 lend a sense of urgency and immediacy to a song like “Mouthpiece,” where intense single-note runs and grandiose tapping loops bring serious gravitas to an anthem decrying political division. Elsewhere, clipped jazz chords underscore the hopeful wistfulness of “The Orchard.” Hoskin remains a master of layering complex, interlocking guitar melodies and punctuating them with orchestral bursts, and the way every element coalesces around massive, show-stopping peaks—most notably during the climax of progtastic Haken-flecked closer “The Mariner”—never fails to sound both beautifully consonant and utterly jaw-dropping. On the kit, newcomer Nathan Bulla delivers an energetic performance rooted in punk beats, filling his ass off in close step with the strings and giving a classic, driving energy to cuts like the Propaghandi-laced “Fishhook.” All of this sets the stage for Rody Walker’s most confident vocal showing yet. He brings the same endlessly charismatic, sky-scraping voice we love him for, but varies his approach to meet each scintillating line, shifting fluidly between expressive, choked inflections, death growls, and rapid-fire delivery while sounding utterly earnest at every turn.

As its title suggests, Within is an album of personal reflection, with Walker using each song to examine both his own place and Protest the Hero’s place in a world where everything personal, including art and music, feels increasingly threatened by an uncaring, ever-worsening political reality. Walker has always worn his heart on his sleeve as a lyricist, and some listeners may find his directness a little much6, but given the deeply personal nature of this material, I’ll be damned if it isn’t some of the most hopelessly honest and immediately moving music I’ve heard all year. A powerful narrative and thematic current runs through the record as its focus shifts from explicitly political material (“Mouthpiece,” “Fishhook”) to the intersections of artistic legacy, imagined pasts, and nostalgic longing (“Grandfather’s Axe,” “The Orchard”), before arriving at metaphorical loss and the acceptance of one’s place in the world (“Liberty Spike,” “The Mariner”). Several nods to earlier PtH works deepen that reflection, from recurring water imagery recalling Pacific Myth to “The Mariner” directly reprising a melody from Palimpsest’s “The Migrant Mother.” Paired with the supremely effective music, these threads elevate Within into a mature career retrospective: a conscious attempt to confront the band’s legacy, decide what remains meaningful, and make peace with where it now stands.

Within is a very different Protest the Hero record from Palimpsest, but it is no less stunning, musically or thematically. On my first few listens, I wasn’t immediately sold on the more direct subject matter, shorter runtime, or less cinematic approach. With time, however, it has revealed itself as another brilliant jewel in the band’s already gilded crown; the affirmation of and justification of a continued legacy. This is an album that just feels like sheer catharsis. The kind that catches you off guard, works its way into your shower-singing rotation, and somehow leaves you misty-eyed after the twentieth spin.7 Within is a special record, one that repeatedly hammers the “big feels” button while sounding like impossibly earnest tech death for the beardless. Do yourself a favor and hear it.

Rating: 4.5/5.0

#CanadianMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ThrashMetal

Canadian band Voivod has rebuilt thrash metal with science fiction and an experimental spirit, paving the way for the future of progressive metal.

monumental-movement.jp/en/column-vo...

[Column] Voivod: SF, nuclear w...

Spread the Disease – The Darkness. The Dread. The Suffering. Review

Once upon a time, Spread the Disease was a frenetic Canadian metalcore band playing a brand of skronk-…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2.5 #2026 #AnaalNathrakh #AttheGates #BlackMetal #BlackenedMetalcore #CanadianMetal #Entertainment #hardcore #HypaethralRecords #Jul26 #Metalcore #review #reviews #SpreadTheDisease #TheDarkness.TheDread.TheSuffering. #Zao
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/757040/

Once upon a time, Spread the Disease was a frenetic Canadian metalcore band playing a brand of skronk-heavy, screamo-adjacent murder music laced with electronic and black metal influences. Their 1998 debut, We Bleed From Many Wounds, is something of a classic among chaotic metalcore devotees, while 1999 follow-up The Sheer Force of Inertia is respectable in its own right. Yet life has a habit of getting in the way of intense musical pursuits, and after those two albums, the band called it quits. Years later, Spread the Disease has reunited and returned with an intimidating slab of aural annihilation: the ominously titled The Darkness. The Dread. The Suffering., which purports to expand upon the black metal elements of their earlier work. Can this cohort of Canucks recapture the caustic vitriol of their youthful output?

The Darkness. The Dread. The Suffering. is less of a maximalist, mathy affair than Spread the Disease’s previous work. Instead, the band opts for a more straightforward merger of second-wave black metal frostbite and 2000s metalcore beef, a combination that works largely because everybody involved seems determined to play it as angrily as humanly possible. Opener “Light Opaque” establishes a formula much of the album follows, its five-plus minutes alternating between meaty tremolo passages and classic At the Gates “0-7-5” riffing over syncopated chugs. “Gods and Politics” weaves blackened leads and tried-and-true blast sections into classic hardcore moves, including a tom-led pullback and satisfying d-beats, while lead single “Indoctrinated” unleashes a blistering array of icy riffcraft that recalls Anaal Nathrakh with the occasional punky power-chord section. For the most part, this is plenty effective. The songs carry an exciting sense of momentum, the individual parts are competent if somewhat expected, and each transition feels natural. I only wish the longer runtimes yielded more genuinely standout moments.

Spread the Disease does make some considerations for album flow, placing short interludes between the main tracks and slightly shifting its blackened hardcore milieu on the B-side. “Intermezzo I” is a brief harsh noise piece that breaks up the onslaught of the opening tracks, while “Intermezzo II” takes a more ambient approach, propelled by chime-like clean guitar. “Outro,” meanwhile, closes the album with a somber sound collage. The final two “main” tracks also put a different spin on the band’s established formula. “Summer Wanes” leans into a more Zao-like, rollicking metalcore assault accented by bursts of blackened tremolo, while the seven-minute “The Blight in Their Eyes” opens up into a sludgy second half, transforming what could have been a typical breakdown into an effective, atmospheric conclusion.

There are a lot of impressive elements to The Darkness. The Dread. The Suffering., but for me, the pieces never quite coalesce into something greater than the sum of their parts. Spread the Disease knows how to pack these songs with well-constructed, pissed-off riffs that blur the line between metalcore and black metal, but despite the variety on display, some ideas linger just a tad too long. Certain riffs feel like boilerplate black metal or cliché metalcore, and their juxtaposition doesn’t necessarily elevate them. With each main song passing the five-minute mark, the propulsive energy that fuels the record can occasionally dwindle, especially when a repetitive tremolo riff overstays its welcome. On a brief, 30-minute album with only five non-interlude tracks, these moments stand out more than they otherwise might. Despite this issue, the individual performances are consistently strong, and tracks like “Summer Wanes” and “Gods and Politics” demonstrate a well-considered take on this particular sound.

With The Darkness. The Dread. The Suffering., Spread the Disease has delivered an intriguing piece of blackened hardcore. There are plenty of fun ideas throughout the record, and it certainly isn’t lacking in aggression, but it’s missing a certain oomph and the considered songwriting needed to tie everything together. Fans of the band’s early material curious to hear its black metal tendencies dragged further into the foreground, should not be dissuaded, and it is undeniably cool to hear Spread the Disease sounding this venomous after so many years. Yet, beneath the frost, blasts, and nonstop riffing lies a record that strikes me as merely average. A nasty reunion, certainly. Just not quite a triumphant one.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Hypaethral Records
Websites: spreadthedisease.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/spreadthedisease_official
Releases Worldwide: July 10th, 2026

I have one for #GrindayFriday this week. This is one man deathgrind project NAILGUT from Kelowna, British Columbia, and their brief 4 song EP 'Distorted Perceptions of Reality' from 2024. It's nasty, grody, grindy, sludgy stuff with chainsaw guitars and bashing drums. I love it.

https://nailgut.bandcamp.com/album/distorted-perceptions-of-reality

#grind #grindcore #deathgrind #metal #Canada #CanadianMetal @vanessawynn @HailsandAles @wendigo @rtw @guffo

Tech death is a saturated field crowded with artists determined to out-noodle each other. It can be great fun, but the density of artists that overpopulate the scene often make it difficult to find something interesting or novel. As cookie-cutter album after cookie-cutter album whooshes overhead, a curious little gem by Québécois one-man tech death act Volubilis1 caught my periphery. Entitled Theasterion, Volubilis’ debut LP entered development prior to the band’s own establishment. Mastermind Miguel Marcheterre-Pina penned content that would end up a part of Theasterion as early as 2016 (earliest known use of the Volubilis name is registered in 2023). That’s a long time for a debut to percolate, but does such an extended incubation period result in stronger spawn?

Theasterion is an exemplary argument in favor of “quality over quantity,” boasting 33 minutes of the most fun and exciting straight-up technical death metal I’ve heard all year so far. Imagine if Equipoise was much more minimalist (“Ashes & Embers,” “Unukhalai Supernova”), but infused First Fragment’s epic sweeps (“Homo Cumulus”), Obscura’s and Nawabs of Destruction’s dramatic melodicism (“Le Flamboiement Stellaire,” “The Prism”), and Scumbag’s vicious groove (“Theasterion,” “Unukhalai Supernova”), and you have the overarching breadth of Volubilis’ sound. Compelling songwriting backed by a crystalline but not overly polished mix allows these various traits to meld in colorful synchronicity, creating a cohesive and effortless listening experience that is as boisterous as it is rewarding to revisit.

To scaffold his riff-laden, exuberant compositions, Marcheterre-Pina wisely recruited talent from across the Canadian metal scene with a meticulous ear. I in particular appreciate that nobody in his lineup is a household name in the tech scene,2 but everyone performs here as if their careers depended on it. André Dubien absolutely destroys his mic with an explosive combination of monstrous roars and screeching high rasps. Jacob Collins’ percussive attack is multifaceted and energetic, exhibiting an infectious predilection for machine-gun double-bass runs (“Le Flamboiement Stellaire”). Shawn Hillman acquits himself with aplomb on the low end as well, his bass noodling and compact counterpoint contrasting wonderfully with Marcheterre-Pina’s crushing riffs and oscillating lead work (“Theasterion”). Guest guitar solos from Alexis Rioux fit right at home on tracks one and three, camouflaging themselves inside of their respective songs while sparkling and shimmering with bright tones and expressive phrases. So too do Michelle Gao’s strings on the closing track, adding a lushness that feels appropriate to elevate Theasterion’s final moments.

If the performances aren’t argument enough in support of Theasterion’s claim to greatness, the songwriting alone carries. Every track has something of substance to take home, and while a couple of items shine more brightly than others (especially “Theasterion” and “Homo Cumulus”), none feel lackluster by comparison in any category. Smart editing across the runtime allows a per-song average that totals above five minutes to feel justified, and the high-octane pace maintained throughout even the longest tracks (“Theasterion,” “Unukhalai Supernova” at 6-and-a-half minutes each) shrinks time around them. Mid-song transitions involving piano, acoustic reprisals of Marcheterre-Pina’s leads, and tumbling percussive fills smooth the canyons carved by deeply layered meltdowns and punishing swings (“Ashes & Embers”). Every decision made to construct, perform, and engineer Theasterion seems tailored to deliver the most bang for the buck. This, in turn, leaves very little opportunity for flaws to creep in.

With enough spins, though, a couple of flaws do creep. The primary of these is the abrupt manner in which some songs end. While none are wholly disruptive, and the subsequent launch of neighboring tracks routinely offers a thematic through-line to help hold Theasterion aloft, a bit of extra silence—or a gentler fade-out on occasion—would soften these overly sharp departures. Secondly, while I do enjoy Theasterion’s mix and master, I think moving André’s vocals back a half step would balance things out a bit more without threatening his well-earned spotlight. Otherwise, there’s very little to complain about here. Volubilis came out swinging with a killer underground tech-death debut. You best move out of their way lest you get your face smashed.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self Released
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: July 10th, 2026

The storms persist, but now it’s getting hot! Steam roils inside the filter ducts as my minions scald themselves in the pursuit of moderately valuable nuggets. Will they succeed before they cook like so many broccoli florets? Only time will tell.

Dead or alive, I’ll make sure these lazy louts deliver their semi-precious lodes. So be thankful, and BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Mountainous Member

Volcandra // Beyond the Will of Mortals [April 24th, 2026 – Prosthetic Records]

Who knows why we don’t get promo sometimes? Countless times I’ve been faced with great anticipation for a new record by a band I was keeping tabs on, and countless times, for unknown reasons, promo never came. Louisville melodic black/death quartet Volcandra now enter those ranks with the unsent Beyond the Will of Mortals. Picking up where The Will of Ancients left off, Beyond the Will of Mortals expands in scope and scale, eliciting a grandeur in composition that recalls the epic yarns spun by Foretoken, Hath, and Astralborne, but with the thrashing sensibilities of Antiverse and Skeletonwitch. Leading the charge in stunning fashion, “Beyond the Will of Mortals” and “Marauders of the Cosmic Vortex” explode with a visceral burst of energy built around high-octane riffs, screaming solos, and majestic melodies. Dave Palenske in particular acquits himself admirably, expanding his vocal range far beyond the expected, foraying into scorching screams and subterranean gutturals with excellent technique and charisma (“Venom March Enchantress”). But the rest of the band easily keeps up, deftly trading blows between power metal-ready gallops, violent swings into thrash territory, and all manner of other pyrotechnics to make Beyond the Will of Mortals Volcandra’s most versatile and varied offering yet. To some, this may create a disjointed experience as rippers like “Mage of Fabled Sorcery” contrast in pacing and personality to its neighbors. However, with repeat listens that effects dissolves, making more room to appreciate how much fun this record really is. The back half capitalizes on that effect, unleashing lean and mean banger after banger to leave you salivating for another round (“Within the Webs,” “Infinite Decadence”). In sum, Beyond the Will of Mortals is a fine, invigorating inclusion into anyone’s rotation; so if you missed it, get on it now!

Creeping Ivy’s Punkyard Dogs

Dead Bob // Nothing Changes Everything [April 21st, 2026 – Wrong Records]

In The Collector’s Guide to Heavy Metal, Martin Popoff describes Wrong (1989) by Nomeansno as ‘the mightiest merger between the hateful aggression of punk and the discipline of heavy metal’ (316). Essentially, Popoff affixed to Wrong AMG’s Iconic label: 10/10.1 For readers perhaps unfamiliar with Nomeansno, my best follow-up on Popoff’s portrayal is that the band—formed in 1979 by the Wright brothers (Rob on bass/vocals, John on drums/vocals)—sounds like The Minutemen hijacked a Voivod. After an incredible eleven-album run, Nomeansno officially retired in 2016. Why am I wasting my word count with this history lesson on the greatest Canadian punk band of all time? Because Dead Bob, John Wright’s solo project, released its sophomore album this April. Whereas Life Like fulfills the vision of one man, John enlisted a band for Nothing Changes Everything. Bookending the album are the last two songs John co-wrote with Rob. The techy guitar/bass interplay of lead-off “Centre of the Universe,” as well as the pounding rhythms of closer “No Fun (Alt Mix),” come closest to the punk/metal hybridity of vintage Nomeansno. Between these tracks, the album gets increasingly weird (which is to say, it gets increasingly ‘punk,’ in the word’s original connotation). “Nothing Changes Everything” deploys horns, “Hard is Hard” mixes art/surf rock, and “The Present” sprinkles psychedelic guitar leads over pulsing synths and tribal percussion. If you’re a fan of avant-garde music in a compact package, you can’t go wrong with Nothing Changes Everything.

Poison Ruïn // Hymns from the Hills [April 3rd, 2026 – Relapse Records]

Whilst reading Tyme‘s (excellent) review of Twin Serpent’s (super fun) True Norwegian Blackgrass, a member of the commentariat reminded me of how much I enjoyed Poison Ruïn’s latest offering upon a first listen. That comment got me to revisit Hymn from the Hills, and I’m glad I did. To sell these Philly post-punks to the AMG Faithful, I’ll point out a few things: they’re signed to Relapse Records, they curate a medieval aesthetic (which includes deploying dungeon synths), and the new record was mastered by Arthur Rizk. In addition to liberal metal elements, Poison Ruïn occasionally stride with rock n’ roll swagger (“Hymn from the Hills”), with primary visionary Mac Kennedy channeling Blue Öyster Cult in his role as singer, guitarist, and primary songwriter (“Lily of the Valley”). “Eidolon” perfectly exemplifies the band’s hybridity, mashing up the melody of “Layla,” the propulsive drive of Hüsker Dü, and the rhythmic punctuations of “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” This may sound like a critique, but it’s not; Poison Ruïn excels at mixing punk, rock, and metal into their own arthouse concoction. Metal purists might have to wait until the end of the album, though, to have their fancy truly tickled. But wait, they should, as “Sleeping Giant (Interlude)” offers funeral doom content in a punk-sized package, while closer “The Standoff” gets moving with a wicked blast beat. I’ll definitely be heading for these post-punk hills more and more throughout the year.

Scimitar // Scimitarium II [April 24th, 2026 – Crypt of the Wizard]

Scimitar’s first song receptacle was one of my favorite debuts of 2025. On Scimitarium I, this Danish five-piece served up a scintillating selection of ‘black occult rock,’ combining the caustic fervor of Malokarpatan with the psychedelic haze of Blue Cheer, topped off with a post-punk flavoring of Joy Division. A year later, this Copenhagen cutter returns with Scimitarium II, a follow-up that satisfyingly mirrors the album-art format of its predecessor. Whereas Scimitarium I demonstrated range marred a bit by roughshod production, volume II sounds much sharper, slashing and dashing for a lean 40 minutes. The opening title track introduces our combatants: the dexterous drumming of CCsquele; the counter-melodic bass of Olle Bergholz; the sinister guitar fury of Johan L. Ekstrand and Anders M. Jørgensen; and finally, the commanding vocals of Shaam A.2 From there, the album rips through a trio of unrelenting ragers that feel like they can fall apart at any minute but miraculously hold together. “Through Lava Lit Roads to Lavilenda, Pt. II” offers the only reprieve, spotlighting Shaam’s dynamic range and impressive timbre. Closing out the collection is “Mobula Mobular,” a 13-minute monster built around a doomy riff whose chromaticism lurches upward and downward, to hypnotizing effect. If Scimitar can marry the ambition of I with the ferocity of II next time around, they’ll have a blackened-trad killer on their hands.

Andy-War-Hall’s Dandy Score Haul

Elegant Weapons // Evolution [April 24th, 2026 – Exciter Records]

Everything about Elegant Weapons and the super group’s sophomore record Evolution is a misnomer. Evolution is a high-octane slugfest of tried-and-true heavy metal-leaning hard rock, and Elegant Weapons swing, punch, and bite through it with everything but grace. Is this a problem? When Richie Faulkener’s (Judas Priest) riffs are as groovy and burly as ever and his solos as grin-inducing, Ronnie Romero’s (ex-Rainbow, ex-Michael Schenker Group) voice is booming as it is, and when Dave Rimmer (Uriah Heep) and Christopher Williams’ (Accept) bass and drums respectively, carry as tight a pulse as they do on Evolution, not at all. When it all coalesces into uber catchy fist-pumping anthems like “Bridges Burn,” “The Devil Calls,” and “Shooting Shadows,” especially so. Evolution is easy-peasy listening, and Elegant Weapons’ chemistry and knack for hookcraft make its near hour-long runtime fly by, as well as ease the cringe of the hyper-Boomeristic lyricism on “Generation Me.” They also manage to make fairly stock power ballads in “Come Back to Me” and “Keeper of the Keys” feel affecting, driven by a viral vocal presence and emotive, timeless guitar soloing. Evolution is fun, and Elegant Weapons are sharp. ‘Nuff said.

Demon Spell // Blessed Be the Dark [April 24th, 2026 – Dying Victims Productions]

Creeping from an obscure, ancient, and sinister darkness, Sicily’s Demon Spell have conjured a shadow-cast era of heavy metal’s history back to the light of day with their debut Blessed Be the Dark. Wielding the evil auras of Mercyful Fate and Witchfinder General, Demon Spell play an early-80s melange of early thrash, occult rock, and NWoBHM riffcraft and swagger. Blessed Be the Dark is driven by excellent performances. Vocalist Federico Fano’s falsetto wails evoke King Diamond at his best on “As Lucifer Smiles” while drummer Dario Casabona drops slick, pummeling fills over “Curse of the Undead.” Sinister melodies and atmospheres abound on Blessed Be the Dark, with “The Tolling” and “Hexes and Horrors” driving home a vintage horror aesthetic while tearing it up with blistering heavy metal. Blessed Be the Dark also just sounds pleasantly old. Demon Spell’s guitars and bass sound pulled straight from 1981, complementing their retro songcraft perfectly. Blessed Be the Dark sounds like the night come alive, a fast, fun, and delightfully dark exploration of the kinds of heavy metal that gave your grandma panic attacks back in the day. Fall under the Demon Spell today!

Grin Reaper’s Grim Goodies

Nervosa // Slave Machine [April 3rd, 2026 – Napalm Records]

For a band releasing their sixth album in twelve years, Nervosa sounds remarkably vital. Staying the course with a dozen tracks of their signature death/thrash, Slave Machine burns through forty-three minutes of whammy dives, soaring leads, and all-around thrashy goodness. Writing tunes that pay homage to Sepultura (“You Are Not a Hero”), Kreator (“Ghost Notes”), and Sodom (“The Call”), Nervosa bludgeons with blunt-force drama while touting slick riffs and venomous melodies. Slave Machine opens with “Impending Doom,” a stirring salvo that Arch Enemy wishes they’d written, and from there Nervosa hints at the familiar without ever straying from their own lane. “Hate” starts with a riff that simultaneously reminds of Maiden’s “Flash of the Blade” and System of a Down’s “B.Y.O.B.” before spiraling into vaguely In Flames-tinged melodeath. Meanwhile, “Crawling for Your Pride” and “Beast of Burden” draw from the viciousness of mid-aughts Soulfly. Over and over, Nervosa pulls from known sources, yet bakes enough novelty into their songwriting to sound fresh and pummeling. Those intimate with Nervosa won’t find many surprises here, but are in for a treat. If this is your first encounter with these Brazilian badasses, gird your ears and strap in—welcome to the Slave Machine.

Kõdu // Kirjad Sõgedate Külast [April 20th, 2026 – Antiq Records]

Five years after delivering debut Unusta Kõik, Estonian outfit Kõdu graces us with their sophomore album. Translated as ‘Letters from the Village of the Blind,’3 Kirjad Sõgedate Külast details the sordid ruination of a backwoods village, relating its narrative aspects through a series of letters where each song chronicles a different villager’s perspective.4 Kõdu grounds the lyrics in their native language, drawing from nineteenth and twentieth-century Estonian poets for inspiration. Despite the depth of the macabre backdrop, I never would have taken the time to learn more if Kõdu’s music hadn’t entranced me from the outset. Slow-burn black metal abounds on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast, recalling Dødheimsgard’s shifting moods (“II”) and eclectic instrumentation (“III”) muddled with Wayfarer’s rustic arrangements (“VI”) and Emperor’s dramatic flair (“V”). Musically, Kirjad Sõgedate Külast conjures lush soundscapes (“VII”) through considered songwriting, expertly balancing black metal discharges with melancholic passages that give moments just the right amount of time to bludgeon or breathe before pivoting. I regret not getting the chance to review Kõdu’s latest in full, because the folk magic they weave on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast deserves fanfare and kudõs aplenty.

ClarkKent’s Epic Elegy

Bloody Valkyria // Requiem – Reveries Of The Dying [April 3rd, 2026 – Northern Silence Productions]

Bloody Valkyria, the product of Finland’s Jere Kervinen, peddles in the same sort of epic symphonic/folk black metal that the likes of Ancient Mastery, Stormkeep, and Moonlight Sorcery dish out. Kervinen’s emotionally charged project appears inspired by a personal loss, and you can feel his passion in the emotional outpouring of his music and lyrics. On the epic opener, “Symphony of Silence,” Bloody Valkyria reveal their capability with the patient slow burn. There’s the natural, serene ambience of animal sounds, strings, folky flutes, and then a sudden explosion of riffs and blast beats. And boy does Kervinen write some extraordinary leads, which makes his slow-burn approach all the more rewarding. Each song contains a well-earned hooky riff/trem that holds its sway over you even as the song grows into more thoughtful serenity. Reading along with Kervinen’s poetic, touching lyrics makes the experience all the more poignant as he ruminates on death and the meaning of life. The grief by the end, as he sings about his “beloved north” and a desire for its/her embrace, is palpable. This is a beautiful record that may be too good for these dirty filters, but I just couldn’t risk it getting lost in the shuffle of the chaos that is the end of year.

Steel Druhm can never get enough rancid, rotten death. That’s probably why I had a large-capacity rotpit installed on my property, and why I maintain front-row seats at the local autopsy theater. Thus, I welcome what Canada’s Coprolith bring to the charnel house on their Putrescence debut. This is scuzzy, lo-fi, low-I.Q. death for the creeps who worship the vomitorious sounds of Autopsy, Grave, Incantation, and older acts like massively underappreciated Finnish maniacs Demigod.1 Taking many crucial cues from early Autopsy, Coprolith blend harrowing doom with blistering OSDM, and everything feels filthy, infectious, and corrupted. It’s a moldy oldy recipe, but in the hands of some truly sick twists, it can still fuck up your shit, as it does here.

You won’t spend much time wondering where Putrescence is heading either. Opener “Sentenced to the Grave” rips the band-aid off, along with a good portion of healthy flesh, as it brings a teeming, writhing mass of moist and gruesome death metal to life. Melding mid-tempo caveman grinding segments that feel massive and unstoppable with doomy plods that crush your will to thrive, this is like a leaden dead weight on your puny shoulders, but there’s a vibrancy and energy to it even when things are stuck in the meat mulch. Some well-timed upticks of speed with blastbeats and cement-mixer riffs keep you alert and following the funeral program. Add some utterly inhuman, reverb-heavy death croaks and vomit noises, and you’re in the grave business! I especially enjoy the eerie harmonies on the song’s back end. The title track is more of the same, informed by gruelingly meatheaded grooves and ponderous doom marching. The guitars offer just enough variety to keep things interesting, spiked by rabid flare-ups of aural violence.

The album centerpiece is the 7-minute “Defiling Incantation,” which Coprolith certainly do with gusto. It’s a lumbering, unwieldy piece of death-doom that recalls the best moments of Incantation and Winter without copying them, and there’s a dark, sludgy, blackened edge to everything that feels evil and unsettling. How do you follow something like that? With a hyper-aggressive piece of scummy, molten death that could have been on Post Mortem’s classic Coroner’s Office release. “Birthed by Remorseless Flames” packs top-notch Neanderthal power chugs and keeps things heavy enough to liquefy and evacuate the contents of your bowels. This is one of my favorite death ditties of 2026 because it feels olde, bold, and heavy like a two-ton anvil dipped in shit, duck fat, and motor oil. I don’t even care that it almost hits the 6-minute mark because it’s just so greasy and unappetizing. At a skinny 34 minutes, every track is morbidly a beast. Bloat is carefully avoided through well-timed tempo shifts, and even the longer cuts avoid feeling too long. The production is deranged genius, essentially recreating the horrific sound of Autopsy classics like Severed Survival and Acts of the Unspeakable. It’s grimy, smutty shit-muck, but damn does it hit the feelz bone with a 10 lb. sledge. There’s enough filth-gunk in the sound to please any hardcore death metal elitist, and you can still hear what the band is actually doing!

Guitarists A.K. and J.H. throw all manner of vile, befouled riffs at you, all with teeth that go for the nether-regions. The doomy leads are nigh-irresistible and will plant you in the earth like a flag pole. The urgent, in-your-face riffage feels jagged, ragged, and dripping with tetanus ichor. This sounds old as fook, but just as toxic as anything new-fangled being released today. To this nightmare sauce, add the obscene croaks, moans, and wretches of K.D., who seems to be broadcasting from some Lovecraftian dimension you want no part of. These unholy vocals add a whole layer of poo-crust to the already appallingly impure sound. Bassist A.M. delivers a lot of mass and heft to the sound profile, coming forward at times to shake your bladder batter into stiff peaks. All this is undergirded by the reliably massive drumming of A.M., who knows when to pound you into assdust and when to oppress your brain jelly. This crew knows what they’re about and how to harsh your mellows.

Coprolith have the rotten stuff, and they fling it all over the place. Putrescence is a nasty piece of soiled work and a loving tribute to the kings of death and death-doom. If you want to marinate in the medical waste barrel, this is the slurry to soak in. It will give you a loathsome disease, but you’ll enjoy the entire incubation period. That, my friends, is what good death metal can do for you/to you! GAG!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ojo / Rotted Life
Websites: coprolith.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/coprolithdeath
Releases Worldwide: July 3rd, 2026

#ThursDeath this week is one of my favorite bands- I'm so psyched they have a new EP. This is 'Rotting Antefix' by Winnipeg's DEFENESTRATION, and the riffs on this thing will melt your face off. From the first the guitar snakes and screams from out of the churning, this one is really special. The pummeling of the drums, those crazy guttural growls- this fucker SMOKES.

Bandcamp: https://defenestration204.bandcamp.com/album/rotting-antefix-2

Qobuz: https://www.qobuz.com/us-en/album/rotting-antefix-defenestration/qb0ij5528yswa

#metal #DeathMetal #Winnipeg #Canada #CanadianBands #CanadianMetal @HailsandAles @wendigo @nnenov @rtw @guffo @AlfeeDee @ttntm @Kitty @c0m4 @flockofnazguls @swampgas @umrk @pephorror

The spirit of metal has always been transgressive. Even though the genre can no longer be epitomized by a group of men with long hair, wearing all black, screaming about Satan and death,1, there remains an element that threatens an established order or sensibility. This is most obvious in the sound itself, which apparently turns a majority of listeners away even as it attracts weirdos like us. But while we may roll our eyes at metal of any kind being dismissed as ‘just noise’ and ‘horrible’, there are some cases where we can acknowledge that the music in question really is very inaccessible. Then we’re confronted with that same transgressiveness non-metalheads face when they listen to less-extreme metal, and enjoyment—let alone qualitative assessment—becomes complex. So it was when I was faced with Dhrupad Anutpada (ধপদ অন$ৎপ&দ): Apophatic Ragas Of Non-Origination, the debut of Indian/Canadian act Nirriti whose intense blackened noise is paired with a philosophical theme that denies the occurrence of creation. Its heresy is every bit as transcendentally horrifying as it sounds.

Nirriti are fully committed to their unorthodoxy. As members of black/noise circle Kolkata Inner Order Propaganda—along with Tetragrammacide, Necrodeity, among others—the trio demonstrate a level of nightmarishness worthy of the circle’s proclaimed “esoterrorism.” Not only is the lyrical theme bizarre yet intriguing, but the music is some of the most oppressive I’ve ever heard. For context, after finishing my first play-through of Dhrupad Anutpada, I decided to listen to Portal to “wind down.” Nirriti’s use of guitar as something from which to make a shuddering wall of sound, from which the occasional dissonant tremolo scale creeps out, is somewhat similar to Portal’s. Here, this wall feels still more monolithic due to Dodecahedron-on-steroids percussive violence that breaks away from a cacophonous blast, only to smash any hint of quiet with cymbals. Omnipresent vocal reverb, that iterates nigh on every hellish roar into a multiplicity of frightening confusion and chaos, becomes the final smothering layer in Dhrupad Anutpada’s impenetrable shroud of horror.

Up to this point, everything I’ve said about Dhrupad Anutpada could be taken positively or negatively—a quirk of how we often discuss extreme metal. This cognitive dissonance is as central to the proper experience of the album as literal harmonic dissonance. Nirriti’s take on noisy brutality approaches the hypnotic as they infuse passages with a sense of repetition through just-audible repeating scales and the aforementioned flickering echoes of vocals (“Mandukya…,”2 “In the Hallways…”). This creates a viscerally chilling sense of a tape skipping or playing backwards, or of the dizziness you feel just before you faint. It’s strange, but such passages grip the listener more powerfully than those where the reverb and blackened sensibility soften to allow the riffs breathing room (“One Foot…,” “Glissando…”), though the latter do reset the sempiternal rhythm, and inject needed jabs of urgency at their best (“One foot…,” “Golden Yolk…”). The relentless drumming, often more prominent than the guitars, serves primarily as a propeller to churn up these waters, such that it becomes a perverse relief when it settles into a battering, crashing attack (“In the Hallways…,” “Golden Yolk…,” “Vilambit Laya…”); because you can at least count the blows.

Dhrupad Anutpada maintains a consistent level of intensity thanks to these constant, if sometimes subtle, fluctuations. Creeping guitar ascents (“In the Hallways…,”), a rhythmic syncopation between roars and drums (“Mandukya…”), and the sudden breaks into noise (“Glissando…”) or the comparative ease of dissonant death metal (“One Foot…”) keep one hooked, straining one’s ears to catch the nuances in this chthonic chaos. Nirriti display an impressive command of their craft, turning harsh vocals into a weapon of horror, wielding guitars like percussion and percussion like punishment. It’s clearly intended to overwhelm and unsettle its audience. The problem is that it’s perhaps too successful, Dhrupad Anutpada being so exhausting that it can make one feel physically nauseated. After many listens, once the initial shock has passed, it’s easier to spot the places Nirriti reuse their tricks, and the corresponding movements lose a little potency (“In the Hallways…,” “Vilambit Laya…”).

I want to believe Dhrupad Anutpada is as profound as it presents itself. There is something to be said for an album that so powerfully confronts and terrifies its listener—it is the very essence of metal and the heart of philosophical unorthodoxy. Yet Nirriti tread a touch too far into the formless abyss to reach all but the most dedicated acolytes of the heretical metal underground. Dhrupad Anutpada may open your mind, but it’s just as likely to send you scrambling, horrified, away from the nightmare Nirriti have unleashed.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Iron Bonehead Productions
Websites: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

After releasing debut LP Prodigy of the Grotesque in 2020, Canada’s Goreworm re-emerges from their burrow with follow-up full-length Miasmic Solitude. Prodigy of the Grotesque enchanted me when I ran across it a few years ago—sweeping guitars, slick bass grooves, and a deliciously vigorous percussive cannonade made for a tasty tech death treat. Now six years later, Goreworm has metamorphosed from the band that dropped Prodigy. Vocalist Jesse Suess and founding members drummer Sean Bruce and bassist Derek Gibbs bid adieu, leaving guitarists Jordan Estrela and Brent Moerschfelder to carry the torch. For Miasmic Solitude, Goreworm rounds out the ensemble with session drummer Robin Stone (Ashen Horde, Chestcrush), who flayed the skins on 2021 EP Plague of Shadows, and vocalist Robert Miller (Antheraea). With a revitalized crew and a fresh batch of jams in hand, can Miasmic Solitude worm its way into your heart?

Technical death metal can be a tough genre to craft thoughtful songs within. The most immediate hurdle is technical chops—if you can’t muster the dexterity to pull off instrumental mayhem, you’re sunk. Yet the ability to play at blistering speeds with robotic fidelity isn’t enough on its own; it’s merely the price of admission. To transcend in the genre as the best from Necrophagist, Obscura, and Archspire have, you need crystalline mechanics embedded within engrossing and memorable compositions. Goreworm’s brand of death metal lands amidst the likes of The Black Dahlia Murder, Vale of Pnath and Abysmal Dawn, sporting burly riffs played at head-spinning velocity with occasional splashes of neoclassical color. This, at least, ensures the price of admission has been paid in full.

Goreworm members old and new unleash the razzle-dazzle on Miasmic Solitude as they pump gallons of adrenalized ear candy into its compositions. Estrela and Moerschfelder beget a sinewy string section, uncorking spidery leads that dash along fretboards with muscle and venom (“Monuments to Murdering,” “Miasmic Solitude”). Moerschfelder pulls double duty on the low-end, too, clanging and banging with satisfying heft. I only wish he broke away more from playing under the guitars and locking into root notes. To be clear, this is a nitpick on style and not a comment on his ability to bring the thunder. It’s just that compared to Gibbs’ bass on Prodigy of the Grotesque, Miasmic Solitude loses a dimension that helped set Goreworm’s debut apart. Meanwhile, Stone supplies a magnificent performance behind the kit, unfettering smooth rolls à la Chris Adler (“Amor Vincit Omnia”) and hammer-smashing cavalcades that recall the ferocity of Cannibal Corpse’s Paul Marzurkiewicz fused with the grace of Dirk Verbeuren (“No Reprieve”). Robert Miller proves a capable vocalist, and though his performance isn’t particularly dynamic, he supports the music well and sounds credibly savage throughout.

Goreworm crackles with vitality throughout Miasmic Solitude, yet the entirety falls short of the promise of its performances. The production proves a mixed bag, allowing the guitars and vocals to shine at the expense of the drums, which sometimes cut through but often become muddled during furious blasts, obscuring the pop of robust drum tones I loved on the debut. Perhaps the intent was to thematically embrace what a cloudy, claustrophobic atmosphere achieves, shining the spotlight on a single focus at a time. If so, I can appreciate the attempt, but it fails to properly incorporate all the ingredients into what Goreworm is cooking. Besides the mix, the songwriting highlights Goreworm’s technical acumen without sharpening their hooks enough to reel me back in once the music fades. To be fair, Miasmic Solitude rips throughout its runtime and is a qualified neck-wrecker—I just don’t feel compelled to revisit it afterwards.

Ultimately, Goreworm exhibits a myriad of traits I love to hear in technical death metal. With a more well-rounded production and carefully honed compositions that transcend being platforms for flexing technical mastery, Goreworm bears all the potential to annihilate expectations. As it stands, after several listens through Miasmic Solitude, there’s no doubt that Goreworm possesses the prowess necessary to deliver on the technical front. I’m just unconvinced of the magnetism their material yields to keep me coming back past the pyrotechnics.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 12th, 2026

Protest The Hero are back.

The Canadian progressive metal outfit have announced their first new album in six years, Within, arriving this July. The band has also unveiled the album’s first single, "Mouthpiece.”

Details: https://metalinsider.net/video/protest-the-hero-announce-first-album-in-six-years-within

#ProtestTheHero #Within #Mouthpiece #ProgressiveMetal #CanadianMetal

When last we visited the Iron Kingdom, the frigid temps forced Holdeneye to don his special Arctic Wolf Fur Armor (providing +50% cold resistance). With the changing seasons, the climate has transformed into a desert under a scorching hot sun. These Canucks have been putting out classic-style heavy metal since 2011, though founders Chris Osterman and Leighton Holmes originally started the band under the moniker Twisted in 2004. Despite all that history, Shadows and Dust, their sixth album, will be just the second time they’ve graced these halls, following Holdeneye’s review of 2019’s On the Hunt. As prepared as Holdeneye was for the frigid setting of On the Hunt, his Arctic armor unfortunately could not handle the sudden increase in temperature. So I have come in his stead, donning my Hooded Cloak of the Dragon (+50% heat resistance) to travel the Iron Kingdom and report my findings.

On Shadows and Dust, Iron Kingdom remain defenders of the NWOTHM brand. With their instruments and voices, Iron Kingdom summon classic Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, and Helloween. Much of what they offer is mid-tempo bruisers featuring energetic riffs and kit work. Opener “Defenders” proves to be the standard bearer for the mid-tempo stuff, with solid instrumentation and the catchiest chorus on the record. Iron Kingdom occasionally reach for Painkiller levels of thrash as well. The high-energy “Eternal Emperor” features some killer riffs and is so much fun it competes with the best in the genre. Only two songs fall below the four-minute mark (“Line of Fire,” “Dark Demands”), and these prove lean, mean thrash machines that inject the album with energy and momentum. Not that I frown upon the longer tracks. Iron Kingdom employs plenty of tricks to keep the music engaging, particularly energetic dueling solos from Osterman and Megan Merrick that are simply a blast.

The crew comprising this Kingdom prove themselves more than capable musicians. Osterman takes the traditional part of NWOTHM literally with a lively performance that mixes Bruce Dickinson and Michael Kiske. He hits the high notes, but has a light gruffness to keep songs from growing treacly sweet. Holmes provides occasional backup duty on some call-and-response portions. When he shouts “Fight or die!” in response to Osterman on “Line of Fire,” it’s just pure fun. Holmes also excels at the bass. This chosen weapon proves omnipresent thanks to the strong mixing, adding meat and groove to the underlying riffs. His terrific bass part on “Blood and Steel” turns that into a track highlight. Merrick and Osterman show off their stuff on the guitars, injecting the standard rhythm sections with some acrobatic fretwork that’s reminiscent of last year’s Helms Deep. Max Friesen handles kit duties with aplomb. His mid-tempo work keeps up a constant near-thrash level of energy to prime listeners for when songs do go to the next level.

Shadows and Dust shows a pretty significant creep in length compared to Iron Kingdom’s prior few albums. I believe this is the result of some slightly better song compositions, but also a little bloat. For the most part, these tunes don’t feel their length, but a few less memorable cuts do cause the record to sag. “Deadhouse Gates” threatens to kill the momentum mid-record as it becomes too repetitive in its final minute. Fortunately, “Line of Fire” comes to the rescue with a crucial momentum boost. Finale “Sacred Fire,” an epic in the vein of classic Maiden, also runs a touch too long, but manages to entertain for most of its seven-minute runtime. While Iron Kingdom don’t tread any new ground, Shadows and Dust nonetheless offers plenty of fun without any major missteps.

The Iron Kingdom has proved to be a worthy and fun place to visit. It’s far less expensive than the budget-breaking Magic Kingdom and far less brutal than the Steel Kingdom.1 Sure you can go back and spin classics like Keeper of the Seven Keys a whole bunch, but it’s also fun to hear some fresh songs in the genre from newer bands who know how to write a good lick or two. While the summer is so far shaping up to be another hot one, Shadows and Dust provides the perfect soundtrack to beat the heat. It’s that cool.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released (NA) / Steel Shark Records (EU)
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: June 5th, 2026

Since opining on thrash metal’s 2026 resurgence in Nukem’s The Grave Remains review, a steady stream of thrash clans have continued to trickle into the promo sump. Next up is Vancouver power trio W.M.D.,1 short for When Minds Develop. Formed in 2015, W.M.D. unleashed debut Lethal Revenge in 2018 before losing all but one of their founding members—guitarist and vocalist Skyler Mills. After recruiting bassist Jon Power and drummer Ryan Idris in 2023, this wrecking crew set to write and record their sophomore opus Against All Warnings. Eight years is a long time between albums, and turning over nearly the entire band can radically shift its dynamics. Has W.M.D. cleared these hurdles and incubated weapons of thrash destruction, or do they deliver a new album Against All Warnings?

W.M.D. plays thrash the way the old school intended—breakneck and direct. Against All Warnings mostly reminds me of East Coast acts, specifically Overkill and Anthrax, due to the in-your-face attitude, low-frills precision, and spirited bass spunk. Although these benchmarks are most immediate, subtler influences surface by way of Megadethian technicality and razor-sharp riffing à la classic Exodus. I’d also be remiss not to mention Hyperia, which currently features Mills and Power while hosting Idris as their live drummer. Regardless, W.M.D. absorbs the thrash that came before and forges it into a sound all their own—and it rips.

Taking crossover’s blistering speeds and supercharging them with riveting performances, Against All Warnings rams oodles of riffs, grooves, and rolls into forty engrossing minutes. I’m a sucker for bass presence, and W.M.D. packs enough beef to induce a weeklong case of the meat sweats. Jon Power discharges his burly low-end throughout Against All Warnings, bouncing and clanging with the vim and vigor of Verni or DiGiorgio (“Kleptomania,” “The Thin Red Line”). Idris rounds out the rhythm section, nimbly whipsawing across the kit as he maneuvers through full-throttle barrages (“Against All Warnings,” “Painful Vengeance”), half-time chugs (“The Thin Red Line,” “Already Dead”), and herky-jerky stutter stops (“Post Human Predator”). Mills takes on the rest, laying down barbed hooks (“The Black Expanse”) and snotty vocals that recall Lich King and Havok. As the cherry on top, guests Casey Trask (“Post Human Predator,” “Painful Vengeance”) and Kai Sakaguchi (“Against All Warnings”) contribute scorching solos, ensuring there’s never a dearth of pyrotechnics. In all, there’s no weak link in the chain, and Against All Warnings bristles with thrashy vitality.

Nearly as impressive as W.M.D.’s onslaught is their elusion of critical flaws. Against All Warnings sidesteps major pitfalls as W.M.D. navigates the treacherous channels of thrash, dancing along the knife’s edge between the genre’s primary criticisms: unoriginal and retreaded compositions and unserious stylings. Rather, the trio plays infectiously vibrant metal with utter conviction, and I’m here for every second of it. This doesn’t mean the album is perfect, however, and some fine-tuning would elevate Against All Warnings even higher. First, penultimate track “Already Dead” lingers at the end, which would be more palatable if it were the finale. Instead, after a slightly prolonged fade of thunder, we’re given “Painful Vengeance.” Switching the order of these tracks or pushing “Painful Vengeance” even earlier would work better. Also, while the production is warm and organic, the album plays a little too quietly. It’s not an issue if I’m only listening to Against All Warnings, but its songs are noticeably muted when thrown into a playlist with other material. Still, these complaints prove minor quibbles compared to the indisputable boom W.M.D. unleashes.

Thrash detractors may not be convinced by Against All Warnings, but they should be. It’s impossible to deny the energy and conviction coursing through W.M.D.’s balls-out blitz, where relentless speeds, head-banging hooks, and rousing choruses embody W.M.D.’s full-tilt bonanza. Against All Warnings ensconces itself as the best thrash album I’ve heard so far in 2026,2 and sets a high bar for the rest of the year. Somebody ought to sign these Canucks, because they’re peddling a potent brew that’s guaranteed to please, Warnings be damned.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 5th, 2026

Melodic death metal had a banner year in 2025, brandishing outstanding releases from Aephanemer, Vittra, Buried Realm, Aversed, and others. Given that many of melodeth’s top tier releases came out in the back half of last year, there’s no cause for alarm yet, but with the exception of At the Gates’ opus The Ghost of a Future Dead, I can’t help feeling 2026 is off to a slow start.1 Throwing down the gauntlet with Old Gods Awaken, Vancouver collective Atavistia stakes their claim on this year’s melodeath throne. In his review of Cosmic Warfare, Doom_et_al noted that Atavistia made meaningful strides in songwriting since The Winter Way, but that plenty of room exists to further define an identity outside of Wintersun’s shadow. With the spotlight shining on folk metal influences throughout Old Gods Awaken, can Atavistia maintain their velocity after Cosmic Warfare, or would it have been better to let sleeping gods lie?

For anyone who’s read about Atavistia at AMG before, you know there’s one band whose temple even these Old Gods pray at.2 If you expected that to change, shame on you. With their most flagrant foray into folk metal to date, Atavistia doubles down on Wintersun worship with Old Gods Awaken while succumbing to a feverish case of Ensiferumania. On the surface, this may sound like Atavistia regressing back towards The Winter Way, but instead the band continues to refine the overwrought compositions that Doomy dinged in that review and delivers a succinct forty-three minutes of symphonic melodeath. And though Wintersun and Ensiferum cast the longest shadows, shades of Children of Bodom and Kalmah broaden Old Gods Awaken’s footprint and enrich its well of influences.

Despite Atavistia’s new musical folk-us and turning over half the band since Cosmic Warfare, they submit well-conceived orchestrations and tight performances throughout Old Gods Awaken. Specifically, Atavistia bade farewell to guitarist Dalton Meaden and bassist D’wayne Murray in 2024, welcoming Elia Baghbaniyan and Spencer Budworth in their stead. The quality of instrumentation remains consistent with previous albums, where guitars and synths steal the show as they trade earwormy melodic lines (“Mystic Tavern,” “I Skogens Djup”) that lead into heartfelt solos (“Goddess of My Dreams,” “Ride the White Storm”) and stirring, rustic breaks (“To a New World”). The haunting choirs on Cosmic Warfare have also been replaced by viking gang chants, which makes sense stylistically, but loses some of the flair that helped the former stand out. Longtime drummer Max Sepulveda lays down a commendable performance as well, spicing songs up with well-crafted fills that never overpower Old Gods Awaken’s dense compositions. Besides contributing guitar and supplying his best vocal performance to date, Atavistia ringleader Matt Sippola weaves together a rousing album that stands beside its inspirations.

While Atavistia successfully plunges headlong into folk, the move erodes some of the identity they established previously. Tracks on Cosmic Warfare recalled Wintersun, but just as much reminded me of Brymir and the choral arrangements in The Phantom Menace. Old Gods Awaken forsakes these subtle nods, and though that isn’t bad on its own, the Ensiferum influence is a safer path that deteriorates some of Atavistia’s idiosyncrasies. Additionally, some of the melodies and song structures on Old Gods Awaken blur together. “Mystic Tavern,” “Seeker of Time,” and “Goddess of My Dreams”3 all have similar-sounding leads, and the first two also have somewhat predictable compositions that stand out since the songs are back-to-back, particularly in terms of pacing and the timing of more subdued moments. Ultimately, these are minor complaints on very well-executed material, but diversifying the song structures could unveil even greater heights.

Old Gods Awaken subverts my expectations of what I thought a new Atavistia record would sound like, and even though they lean into a well-defined arena, they do so capably. Monster hooks and intricate, engaging arrangements keep the replay value of Old Gods Awaken tantalizingly high, especially with tight songwriting across the album. I’m curious where Atavistia goes next, as there’s no clear indication of what direction they’ll take. Whatever it is, the persistent urge to evolve their songcraft proves Atavistia will make it interesting and fun, and that every once in a while, you can teach Old Gods new tricks.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026