#darkthrone — Public Fediverse posts

Heute hin- und hergerissen zwischen #Darkthrone mit "Pre-Historic Metal", was einem schon wieder wunderbare Old-School-Vibes beschert:

https://music.apple.com/de/album/pre-historic-metal/1881564845

#metal #blackmetal

uuuuund......

Darkthrone Pre-historic metal

Darkthrone Pre-historic Metal: il ritorno della vecchia scuola
Scopri "Darkthrone Pre-historic metal", un disco che celebra il metal vecchia scuola in tutte le sue forme: black, doom e speed metal. Imperdibile per gli amanti del genere. #Darkthrone #PreHistoricMetal #MetalVecchiaScuola #BlackMetal #DoomMetal #SpeedMetal #MetalEstremo

iyezine.com/darkthrone-pre-his…

Tym razem już przez większość tygodnia słuchałem black metalu. I jego jest najwięcej dzisiaj w polecajkach muzycznych. I nie, nie ma o nowym #Darkthrone, bo mi się nie podobał.

1. Vanir - zaskoczyło mnie to, bo zwykle nie lubię takiego wikińskiego (tak, tak - nie "wikingowskiego") grania, ale tutaj mi siadło. W zależności od płyty, jest to albo potężne, epickie granie z potężnym growlem, albo metal z dużym udziałem folku, albo nawet czasem nieco deathcore'u, choć pewnie nie taki był zamysł artystyczny. A to wszystko od zespołu z Danii, który wydał już całkiem dużo płyt i działa od 2009 roku.

2. Svrm - już kiedyś przesłuchałem ten blackmetalowy zespół (jednoosobowy) z Ukrainy, ale jakoś chyba nie zwrócił mojej uwagi. Teraz być może trafił na mój lepszy (albo słabszy) moment, bo znalazłem w tym coś ze Stworza, ale na bardziej atmosferyczną modłę i blackmetalową modłę. Szczególnie płyta "Rozpad" przypadła mi do gustu. Jeśli lubisz Stworza, to tutaj powinno być nieźle.

3. Wandar - może trochę na wyrost rekomendacja, ale wyróżnienie należy się na pewno, bo to kawał dobrego atmosferycznego blackmetalowego grania z blastami, klimatem, a to wszystko z Niemiec. Wyraźna produkcja, nacisk na naturę (ale znowu w takim samym typie jak Winterfylleth) i... czasem przeciągnięte utwory. Ale i tak warto poznać.

4. Belialed, album "The Echoless Charm" - melodyjny black metal z Niemiec. Standardowo, warto sprawdzić, jeśli jesteście fanami Mgły, Grozy, Non Est Deus i innych tego typu kapel. Są talerzyki, spora rola perkusji, wokal podobny do tego z Mgły, a gitarowe melodie ciągną się przez całe utwory, choć nie wwiercają się w mózg tak, jak właśnie u krakowskich hegemonów takiego grania.

(1/2)

@muzykametalowa #Muzyka #Metal #MetalPany #BlackMetal

Black metal’s wide-ranging milieu encompasses many sub-genres—1st wave, 2nd wave, raw, symphonic, atmospheric, post—the list goes on. One niche of the black metalsphere, with neither a large sample size nor a large following, is black metal smashed hip-hop. Sure, some artists come to mind: Ghostemane, for one; then there’s what Zeal & Ardor is doing, as well as Déhà’s project NADDDIR, which melds flashes of black metal with trap beats and cloud rap.1 Tossing his spliff in the ashtray as it were is the mysterious Berliner, Foghazer, with his Hypnotic Dirge debut, He Left the Temple, an album comprised of nine, singularly titled tracks that cumulatively read “‘He’ ‘Left’ ‘The’ ‘Temple’ ‘And’ ‘Fog’ ‘Followed’ ‘Him’ ‘Out,”‘ and described by the artist as “low-visibility sound: slow beats, distorted memory and fog as both space and emotion.” Will Foghazer open the floodgates to a new sub-sub-sub-genre, or be just another basement-dwelling one-man band exiting his parents’ lowest-level ‘temple’ in a haze of pot smoke and lo-fi tuneage in search of munchies.

If Moderator2 and Portishead got down and “black metal” dirty with Burzum in some hole in the wall no-tell motel, the offspring of that union would sound like Foghazer. Eschewing nearly all vocals, He Left the Temple employs trip-hoppy drum beats with occasional blasts and jazz fills, moody-smooth bass lines, and eerily plucked or Filosofem-level reverb-drenched guitars to armor the majority of its aural palette.3 Toss in some scratchy, Portishead-style turntablism, operatic female soprano warblings, Master Boot Record-type bleepity-bloops (“He,” “Followed”) amidst other random sounds, and you’ve got the gist of what’s happening here. He Left the Temple strikes a decent cinematic chord, evoking a lo-res film noir experience that, at least in my mind’s movie, follows Foghazer and his gang of corpse-painted black metal beatniks as they roam the harsh streets of an “every-city” looking for trouble.

He Left The Temple by Foghazer

Laid-back and gloomy, Foghazer does a good job of setting a mood; He Left the Temple would serve equally well as a lounge-lizard soundtrack looping endlessly in an edgy, urban underground cigar-and-whiskey bar as it would a score for some Werner Herzog black metal remake of the movie Kids. “Left” has a slow, eerie build that transitions from creepy, singular guitar plucks to a double-bass rolling foundation that supports some nice, melodic riff patterns. “Fog” is another standout; its trippy bass line and trap beats trade punches with passages of doomy tremolos and double bass rolls, and had me thinking, ‘this is what Darkthrone might sound like if they took a stab at this kind of thing.’ There were many moments where I found myself slipping comfortably into the groove that Foghazer was laying down, my rollin’-through-Oslo-in-my-tricked-out-hearse head bob in full effect. Unfortunately, not all of the fog in the temple envelops completely.

There is a dark thread of similitude running through nearly all of He Left the Temple that impacted my overall experience. Foghazer rinses and repeats his compositional formula such that, if you were to cycle through the first five seconds of every track from “He” to “Fog,” each begins in much the same way, which cumulatively has a hypnotizing effect that takes you out of what’s happening more than it draws you in. I kept checking the track number every so often to see if I’d mistakenly played the same song over again. The other demerit I must levy against He Left the Temple occurs when Foghazer leans heaviest into his black metal. “Temple” is the most glaring example of this as it begins pensively, with some brooding bass tones and spindly guitar plucks before settling into its trip-hop beat section, which gets rudely interrupted at the 1:25 mark by an obnoxious blast beat that continuously pulses under those creepy guitars. This track also contains Foghazer’s only vocals, which, for us, is a blessing in disguise since I find his particular brand of shriek rather grating.

There’s some cool stuff going on in He Left the Temple, but this is nothing that’s going to put Foghazer on the map. I appreciate the groove and mood he’s able to create at times, but as a mostly instrumental album, the lack of any additional engaging dynamics left me wanting more from Foghazer. As it stands, He Left the Temple makes for some entertaining background music, but not much more.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192kbps mp3
Label: Hypnotic Dirge Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Black metal’s wide-ranging milieu encompasses many sub-genres—1st wave, 2nd wave, raw, symphonic, atmospheric, post—the list goes on. One niche of the black metalsphere, with neither a large sample size nor a large following, is black metal smashed hip-hop. Sure, some artists come to mind: Ghostemane, for one; then there’s what Zeal & Ardor is doing, as well as Déhà’s project NADDDIR, which melds flashes of black metal with trap beats and cloud rap.1 Tossing his spliff in the ashtray as it were is the mysterious Berliner, Foghazer, with his Hypnotic Dirge debut, He Left the Temple, an album comprised of nine, singularly titled tracks that cumulatively read “‘He’ ‘Left’ ‘The’ ‘Temple’ ‘And’ ‘Fog’ ‘Followed’ ‘Him’ ‘Out,”‘ and described by the artist as “low-visibility sound: slow beats, distorted memory and fog as both space and emotion.” Will Foghazer open the floodgates to a new sub-sub-sub-genre, or be just another basement-dwelling one-man band exiting his parents’ lowest-level ‘temple’ in a haze of pot smoke and lo-fi tuneage in search of munchies.

If Moderator2 and Portishead got down and “black metal” dirty with Burzum in some hole in the wall no-tell motel, the offspring of that union would sound like Foghazer. Eschewing nearly all vocals, He Left the Temple employs trip-hoppy drum beats with occasional blasts and jazz fills, moody-smooth bass lines, and eerily plucked or Filosofem-level reverb-drenched guitars to armor the majority of its aural palette.3 Toss in some scratchy, Portishead-style turntablism, operatic female soprano warblings, Master Boot Record-type bleepity-bloops (“He,” “Followed”) amidst other random sounds, and you’ve got the gist of what’s happening here. He Left the Temple strikes a decent cinematic chord, evoking a lo-res film noir experience that, at least in my mind’s movie, follows Foghazer and his gang of corpse-painted black metal beatniks as they roam the harsh streets of an “every-city” looking for trouble.

He Left The Temple by Foghazer

Laid-back and gloomy, Foghazer does a good job of setting a mood; He Left the Temple would serve equally well as a lounge-lizard soundtrack looping endlessly in an edgy, urban underground cigar-and-whiskey bar as it would a score for some Werner Herzog black metal remake of the movie Kids. “Left” has a slow, eerie build that transitions from creepy, singular guitar plucks to a double-bass rolling foundation that supports some nice, melodic riff patterns. “Fog” is another standout; its trippy bass line and trap beats trade punches with passages of doomy tremolos and double bass rolls, and had me thinking, ‘this is what Darkthrone might sound like if they took a stab at this kind of thing.’ There were many moments where I found myself slipping comfortably into the groove that Foghazer was laying down, my rollin’-through-Oslo-in-my-tricked-out-hearse head bob in full effect. Unfortunately, not all of the fog in the temple envelops completely.

There is a dark thread of similitude running through nearly all of He Left the Temple that impacted my overall experience. Foghazer rinses and repeats his compositional formula such that, if you were to cycle through the first five seconds of every track from “He” to “Fog,” each begins in much the same way, which cumulatively has a hypnotizing effect that takes you out of what’s happening more than it draws you in. I kept checking the track number every so often to see if I’d mistakenly played the same song over again. The other demerit I must levy against He Left the Temple occurs when Foghazer leans heaviest into his black metal. “Temple” is the most glaring example of this as it begins pensively, with some brooding bass tones and spindly guitar plucks before settling into its trip-hop beat section, which gets rudely interrupted at the 1:25 mark by an obnoxious blast beat that continuously pulses under those creepy guitars. This track also contains Foghazer’s only vocals, which, for us, is a blessing in disguise since I find his particular brand of shriek rather grating.

There’s some cool stuff going on in He Left the Temple, but this is nothing that’s going to put Foghazer on the map. I appreciate the groove and mood he’s able to create at times, but as a mostly instrumental album, the lack of any additional engaging dynamics left me wanting more from Foghazer. As it stands, He Left the Temple makes for some entertaining background music, but not much more.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192kbps mp3
Label: Hypnotic Dirge Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Black metal’s wide-ranging milieu encompasses many sub-genres—1st wave, 2nd wave, raw, symphonic, atmospheric, post—the list goes on. One niche of the black metalsphere, with neither a large sample size nor a large following, is black metal smashed hip-hop. Sure, some artists come to mind: Ghostemane, for one; then there’s what Zeal & Ardor is doing, as well as Déhà’s project NADDDIR, which melds flashes of black metal with trap beats and cloud rap.1 Tossing his spliff in the ashtray as it were is the mysterious Berliner, Foghazer, with his Hypnotic Dirge debut, He Left the Temple, an album comprised of nine, singularly titled tracks that cumulatively read “‘He’ ‘Left’ ‘The’ ‘Temple’ ‘And’ ‘Fog’ ‘Followed’ ‘Him’ ‘Out,”‘ and described by the artist as “low-visibility sound: slow beats, distorted memory and fog as both space and emotion.” Will Foghazer open the floodgates to a new sub-sub-sub-genre, or be just another basement-dwelling one-man band exiting his parents’ lowest-level ‘temple’ in a haze of pot smoke and lo-fi tuneage in search of munchies.

If Moderator2 and Portishead got down and “black metal” dirty with Burzum in some hole in the wall no-tell motel, the offspring of that union would sound like Foghazer. Eschewing nearly all vocals, He Left the Temple employs trip-hoppy drum beats with occasional blasts and jazz fills, moody-smooth bass lines, and eerily plucked or Filosofem-level reverb-drenched guitars to armor the majority of its aural palette.3 Toss in some scratchy, Portishead-style turntablism, operatic female soprano warblings, Master Boot Record-type bleepity-bloops (“He,” “Followed”) amidst other random sounds, and you’ve got the gist of what’s happening here. He Left the Temple strikes a decent cinematic chord, evoking a lo-res film noir experience that, at least in my mind’s movie, follows Foghazer and his gang of corpse-painted black metal beatniks as they roam the harsh streets of an “every-city” looking for trouble.

He Left The Temple by Foghazer

Laid-back and gloomy, Foghazer does a good job of setting a mood; He Left the Temple would serve equally well as a lounge-lizard soundtrack looping endlessly in an edgy, urban underground cigar-and-whiskey bar as it would a score for some Werner Herzog black metal remake of the movie Kids. “Left” has a slow, eerie build that transitions from creepy, singular guitar plucks to a double-bass rolling foundation that supports some nice, melodic riff patterns. “Fog” is another standout; its trippy bass line and trap beats trade punches with passages of doomy tremolos and double bass rolls, and had me thinking, ‘this is what Darkthrone might sound like if they took a stab at this kind of thing.’ There were many moments where I found myself slipping comfortably into the groove that Foghazer was laying down, my rollin’-through-Oslo-in-my-tricked-out-hearse head bob in full effect. Unfortunately, not all of the fog in the temple envelops completely.

There is a dark thread of similitude running through nearly all of He Left the Temple that impacted my overall experience. Foghazer rinses and repeats his compositional formula such that, if you were to cycle through the first five seconds of every track from “He” to “Fog,” each begins in much the same way, which cumulatively has a hypnotizing effect that takes you out of what’s happening more than it draws you in. I kept checking the track number every so often to see if I’d mistakenly played the same song over again. The other demerit I must levy against He Left the Temple occurs when Foghazer leans heaviest into his black metal. “Temple” is the most glaring example of this as it begins pensively, with some brooding bass tones and spindly guitar plucks before settling into its trip-hop beat section, which gets rudely interrupted at the 1:25 mark by an obnoxious blast beat that continuously pulses under those creepy guitars. This track also contains Foghazer’s only vocals, which, for us, is a blessing in disguise since I find his particular brand of shriek rather grating.

There’s some cool stuff going on in He Left the Temple, but this is nothing that’s going to put Foghazer on the map. I appreciate the groove and mood he’s able to create at times, but as a mostly instrumental album, the lack of any additional engaging dynamics left me wanting more from Foghazer. As it stands, He Left the Temple makes for some entertaining background music, but not much more.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192kbps mp3
Label: Hypnotic Dirge Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Black metal’s wide-ranging milieu encompasses many sub-genres—1st wave, 2nd wave, raw, symphonic, atmospheric, post—the list goes on. One niche of the black metalsphere, with neither a large sample size nor a large following, is black metal smashed hip-hop. Sure, some artists come to mind: Ghostemane, for one; then there’s what Zeal & Ardor is doing, as well as Déhà’s project NADDDIR, which melds flashes of black metal with trap beats and cloud rap.1 Tossing his spliff in the ashtray as it were is the mysterious Berliner, Foghazer, with his Hypnotic Dirge debut, He Left the Temple, an album comprised of nine, singularly titled tracks that cumulatively read “‘He’ ‘Left’ ‘The’ ‘Temple’ ‘And’ ‘Fog’ ‘Followed’ ‘Him’ ‘Out,”‘ and described by the artist as “low-visibility sound: slow beats, distorted memory and fog as both space and emotion.” Will Foghazer open the floodgates to a new sub-sub-sub-genre, or be just another basement-dwelling one-man band exiting his parents’ lowest-level ‘temple’ in a haze of pot smoke and lo-fi tuneage in search of munchies.

If Moderator2 and Portishead got down and “black metal” dirty with Burzum in some hole in the wall no-tell motel, the offspring of that union would sound like Foghazer. Eschewing nearly all vocals, He Left the Temple employs trip-hoppy drum beats with occasional blasts and jazz fills, moody-smooth bass lines, and eerily plucked or Filosofem-level reverb-drenched guitars to armor the majority of its aural palette.3 Toss in some scratchy, Portishead-style turntablism, operatic female soprano warblings, Master Boot Record-type bleepity-bloops (“He,” “Followed”) amidst other random sounds, and you’ve got the gist of what’s happening here. He Left the Temple strikes a decent cinematic chord, evoking a lo-res film noir experience that, at least in my mind’s movie, follows Foghazer and his gang of corpse-painted black metal beatniks as they roam the harsh streets of an “every-city” looking for trouble.

He Left The Temple by Foghazer

Laid-back and gloomy, Foghazer does a good job of setting a mood; He Left the Temple would serve equally well as a lounge-lizard soundtrack looping endlessly in an edgy, urban underground cigar-and-whiskey bar as it would a score for some Werner Herzog black metal remake of the movie Kids. “Left” has a slow, eerie build that transitions from creepy, singular guitar plucks to a double-bass rolling foundation that supports some nice, melodic riff patterns. “Fog” is another standout; its trippy bass line and trap beats trade punches with passages of doomy tremolos and double bass rolls, and had me thinking, ‘this is what Darkthrone might sound like if they took a stab at this kind of thing.’ There were many moments where I found myself slipping comfortably into the groove that Foghazer was laying down, my rollin’-through-Oslo-in-my-tricked-out-hearse head bob in full effect. Unfortunately, not all of the fog in the temple envelops completely.

There is a dark thread of similitude running through nearly all of He Left the Temple that impacted my overall experience. Foghazer rinses and repeats his compositional formula such that, if you were to cycle through the first five seconds of every track from “He” to “Fog,” each begins in much the same way, which cumulatively has a hypnotizing effect that takes you out of what’s happening more than it draws you in. I kept checking the track number every so often to see if I’d mistakenly played the same song over again. The other demerit I must levy against He Left the Temple occurs when Foghazer leans heaviest into his black metal. “Temple” is the most glaring example of this as it begins pensively, with some brooding bass tones and spindly guitar plucks before settling into its trip-hop beat section, which gets rudely interrupted at the 1:25 mark by an obnoxious blast beat that continuously pulses under those creepy guitars. This track also contains Foghazer’s only vocals, which, for us, is a blessing in disguise since I find his particular brand of shriek rather grating.

There’s some cool stuff going on in He Left the Temple, but this is nothing that’s going to put Foghazer on the map. I appreciate the groove and mood he’s able to create at times, but as a mostly instrumental album, the lack of any additional engaging dynamics left me wanting more from Foghazer. As it stands, He Left the Temple makes for some entertaining background music, but not much more.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192kbps mp3
Label: Hypnotic Dirge Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Black metal’s wide-ranging milieu encompasses many sub-genres—1st wave, 2nd wave, raw, symphonic, atmospheric, post—the list goes on. One niche of the black metalsphere, with neither a large sample size nor a large following, is black metal smashed hip-hop. Sure, some artists come to mind: Ghostemane, for one; then there’s what Zeal & Ardor is doing, as well as Déhà’s project NADDDIR, which melds flashes of black metal with trap beats and cloud rap.1 Tossing his spliff in the ashtray as it were is the mysterious Berliner, Foghazer, with his Hypnotic Dirge debut, He Left the Temple, an album comprised of nine, singularly titled tracks that cumulatively read “‘He’ ‘Left’ ‘The’ ‘Temple’ ‘And’ ‘Fog’ ‘Followed’ ‘Him’ ‘Out,”‘ and described by the artist as “low-visibility sound: slow beats, distorted memory and fog as both space and emotion.” Will Foghazer open the floodgates to a new sub-sub-sub-genre, or be just another basement-dwelling one-man band exiting his parents’ lowest-level ‘temple’ in a haze of pot smoke and lo-fi tuneage in search of munchies.

If Moderator2 and Portishead got down and “black metal” dirty with Burzum in some hole in the wall no-tell motel, the offspring of that union would sound like Foghazer. Eschewing nearly all vocals, He Left the Temple employs trip-hoppy drum beats with occasional blasts and jazz fills, moody-smooth bass lines, and eerily plucked or Filosofem-level reverb-drenched guitars to armor the majority of its aural palette.3 Toss in some scratchy, Portishead-style turntablism, operatic female soprano warblings, Master Boot Record-type bleepity-bloops (“He,” “Followed”) amidst other random sounds, and you’ve got the gist of what’s happening here. He Left the Temple strikes a decent cinematic chord, evoking a lo-res film noir experience that, at least in my mind’s movie, follows Foghazer and his gang of corpse-painted black metal beatniks as they roam the harsh streets of an “every-city” looking for trouble.

He Left The Temple by Foghazer

Laid-back and gloomy, Foghazer does a good job of setting a mood; He Left the Temple would serve equally well as a lounge-lizard soundtrack looping endlessly in an edgy, urban underground cigar-and-whiskey bar as it would a score for some Werner Herzog black metal remake of the movie Kids. “Left” has a slow, eerie build that transitions from creepy, singular guitar plucks to a double-bass rolling foundation that supports some nice, melodic riff patterns. “Fog” is another standout; its trippy bass line and trap beats trade punches with passages of doomy tremolos and double bass rolls, and had me thinking, ‘this is what Darkthrone might sound like if they took a stab at this kind of thing.’ There were many moments where I found myself slipping comfortably into the groove that Foghazer was laying down, my rollin’-through-Oslo-in-my-tricked-out-hearse head bob in full effect. Unfortunately, not all of the fog in the temple envelops completely.

There is a dark thread of similitude running through nearly all of He Left the Temple that impacted my overall experience. Foghazer rinses and repeats his compositional formula such that, if you were to cycle through the first five seconds of every track from “He” to “Fog,” each begins in much the same way, which cumulatively has a hypnotizing effect that takes you out of what’s happening more than it draws you in. I kept checking the track number every so often to see if I’d mistakenly played the same song over again. The other demerit I must levy against He Left the Temple occurs when Foghazer leans heaviest into his black metal. “Temple” is the most glaring example of this as it begins pensively, with some brooding bass tones and spindly guitar plucks before settling into its trip-hop beat section, which gets rudely interrupted at the 1:25 mark by an obnoxious blast beat that continuously pulses under those creepy guitars. This track also contains Foghazer’s only vocals, which, for us, is a blessing in disguise since I find his particular brand of shriek rather grating.

There’s some cool stuff going on in He Left the Temple, but this is nothing that’s going to put Foghazer on the map. I appreciate the groove and mood he’s able to create at times, but as a mostly instrumental album, the lack of any additional engaging dynamics left me wanting more from Foghazer. As it stands, He Left the Temple makes for some entertaining background music, but not much more.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192kbps mp3
Label: Hypnotic Dirge Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Crotaline – The Embrace of Cloacal Desire Review

When it comes to snakes and music, I’m a simple man. I think of Testament’s Brotherhood of the…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #1.5 #2026 #AmericanMetal #Apr26 #AU #Australia #Bathory #BlackMetal #CelticFrost #Crotaline #Darkthrone #Deicide #Emperor #Entertainment #Hellhammer #HighonFire #Immortal #LiminalDreadProductions #mayhem #review #reviews #SirMix-A-Lot #Testament #TheEmbraceofCloacalDesire #Triptykon #Venom
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/591284/

Crotaline – The Embrace of Cloacal Desire Review

When it comes to snakes and music, I’m a simple man. I think of Testament’s Brotherhood of the…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #1.5 #2026 #AmericanMetal #Apr26 #AU #Australia #Bathory #BlackMetal #CelticFrost #Crotaline #Darkthrone #Deicide #Emperor #Entertainment #Hellhammer #HighonFire #Immortal #LiminalDreadProductions #mayhem #review #reviews #SirMix-A-Lot #Testament #TheEmbraceofCloacalDesire #Triptykon #Venom
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/591284/

When it comes to snakes and music, I’m a simple man. I think of Testament’s Brotherhood of the Snake, High on Fire’s Snakes for the Divine, Deicide’s Serpents of the Light, and Sir Mix-a-Lot. And now Philadelphia’s Crotaline1 slithers in flaunting first-wave-of-black-metal ballads rife with references to snake genitalia. Black metal’s second wave garners most of the attention, having shaped what most consider to be the genre’s trve north, but Mayhem, Darkthrone, Immortal, and Emperor never would have become what they are without Bathory’s lo-fi virulence, Venom’s proto-thrashed, punk-informed edgelording, and Celtic Frost’s sinister atmospheres and doomy trudges. First-wave black metal fairly characterizes what Crotaline provides on debut The Embrace of Cloacal Desire, as it’s ridden with direct, unadorned riffing, torturous plods, and a classically DIY aesthetic. Crotaline’s debut sounds like a blast, and I hope it is—my anaconda don’t want none unless it’s got fun, hun.

In many senses, The Embrace of Cloacal Desire is a primitive album. Crotaline relates carnal tales of ophidian lust in straightforward spurts of stripped-down metal, preferring uncomplicated riffs and instrumentation to deliver their herpetological gospel. In this way, Crotaline reminds me more of Hellhammer than Bathory or Celtic Frost. Tom G. Warrior’s (Triptykon) first project,2 Hellhammer distinguished itself more for its chaos and enthusiasm than its execution. Similarly, The Embrace of Cloacal Desire attacks with zealous verve, flitting through nine tracks of intermittently thrashy and doom-laden black metal. Despite the bold mashup of genres, though, Crotaline never quite brings their fangs within striking distance.

The Embrace of Cloacal Desire by Crotaline

Two primary issues plague The Embrace of Cloacal Desire, and each boils down to the same root cause—simplicity. While the drums supply a commendable rhythmic thunder, mostly Crotaline’s performance either plays too safe or lacks the technical firepower to achieve big moments. After a protracted minute-and-a-half intro, opener “Breeding the End” gets properly started. Unleashing a classic thrash riff recalling Bonded by Blood-era Exodus, a peppy bass groove joins in to underpin the melody. The pace slows at the chorus, cutting to a second riff before wending back to the main one. “Widow’s Web” kicks in next, treating listeners to a Venom-meets-Bathory hook that, just like the preceding song, tamps the brakes for vocals and a bridge. The pattern wears thin quickly, and The Embrace of Cloacal Desire suffers from this constricted songwriting—particularly in the back half. Too many half-formed ideas reach for big moments, only to topple into funereal crawls. For an album dedicated to dangerous snakes and sex organs, too often I’m left unthrilled and unfulfilled.

Ultimately, the lack of memorable passages and songs leaves The Embrace of Cloacal Desire as drab and listless as a shed snakeskin. Solid building blocks reside in Crotaline’s DNA, but the shapes of their assembled structures never coalesce into more than their constituent components. Where varying tempos can effectively lead to dynamic pacing and musical climaxes, Crotaline’s overuse of the fast-to-slow momentum shifts undercuts their songwriting. “As the Serpents Feast” exits the chorus and launches into a punky bridge begging for a wailing solo, but instead delivers an understated, unconvincing lead lacking excitement and dexterity. “Red Moon of Despair” starts promisingly enough, yet drops to a two-minute slog of glacial pacing. The same framework repeats on “Beneath the Reeds,” and yet again on “Hemipenes; The Embrace of Cloacal Desire.” Rather than mirroring a narrative or cleverly subverting expectations, these pivots can seem haphazard or lazy, leading to either frustration or boredom.

In spite of a great album concept and comparisons to bands I enjoy, Crotaline’s debut fails to charm my snake. Predictable songwriting and uninspired performances make The Embrace of Cloacal Desire’s thirty-five minutes feel longer than they are, and no song manages to entirely sidestep these issues. Even so, it takes guts to write this wild shit, and even more so to memorialize these ideas in song. Venom lurks within Crotaline, but the band needs to retool their bite. Hopefully they can figure it out and give us a rousing sophomore resurgence. Until then, I’m left to wonder if maybe I’m bored with it, or maybe it’s Crotaline.

Rating: Bad
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

When it comes to snakes and music, I’m a simple man. I think of Testament’s Brotherhood of the Snake, High on Fire’s Snakes for the Divine, Deicide’s Serpents of the Light, and Sir Mix-a-Lot. And now Philadelphia’s Crotaline1 slithers in flaunting first-wave-of-black-metal ballads rife with references to snake genitalia. Black metal’s second wave garners most of the attention, having shaped what most consider to be the genre’s trve north, but Mayhem, Darkthrone, Immortal, and Emperor never would have become what they are without Bathory’s lo-fi virulence, Venom’s proto-thrashed, punk-informed edgelording, and Celtic Frost’s sinister atmospheres and doomy trudges. First-wave black metal fairly characterizes what Crotaline provides on debut The Embrace of Cloacal Desire, as it’s ridden with direct, unadorned riffing, torturous plods, and a classically DIY aesthetic. Crotaline’s debut sounds like a blast, and I hope it is—my anaconda don’t want none unless it’s got fun, hun.

In many senses, The Embrace of Cloacal Desire is a primitive album. Crotaline relates carnal tales of ophidian lust in straightforward spurts of stripped-down metal, preferring uncomplicated riffs and instrumentation to deliver their herpetological gospel. In this way, Crotaline reminds me more of Hellhammer than Bathory or Celtic Frost. Tom G. Warrior’s (Triptykon) first project,2 Hellhammer distinguished itself more for its chaos and enthusiasm than its execution. Similarly, The Embrace of Cloacal Desire attacks with zealous verve, flitting through nine tracks of intermittently thrashy and doom-laden black metal. Despite the bold mashup of genres, though, Crotaline never quite brings their fangs within striking distance.

The Embrace of Cloacal Desire by Crotaline

Two primary issues plague The Embrace of Cloacal Desire, and each boils down to the same root cause—simplicity. While the drums supply a commendable rhythmic thunder, mostly Crotaline’s performance either plays too safe or lacks the technical firepower to achieve big moments. After a protracted minute-and-a-half intro, opener “Breeding the End” gets properly started. Unleashing a classic thrash riff recalling Bonded by Blood-era Exodus, a peppy bass groove joins in to underpin the melody. The pace slows at the chorus, cutting to a second riff before wending back to the main one. “Widow’s Web” kicks in next, treating listeners to a Venom-meets-Bathory hook that, just like the preceding song, tamps the brakes for vocals and a bridge. The pattern wears thin quickly, and The Embrace of Cloacal Desire suffers from this constricted songwriting—particularly in the back half. Too many half-formed ideas reach for big moments, only to topple into funereal crawls. For an album dedicated to dangerous snakes and sex organs, too often I’m left unthrilled and unfulfilled.

Ultimately, the lack of memorable passages and songs leaves The Embrace of Cloacal Desire as drab and listless as a shed snakeskin. Solid building blocks reside in Crotaline’s DNA, but the shapes of their assembled structures never coalesce into more than their constituent components. Where varying tempos can effectively lead to dynamic pacing and musical climaxes, Crotaline’s overuse of the fast-to-slow momentum shifts undercuts their songwriting. “As the Serpents Feast” exits the chorus and launches into a punky bridge begging for a wailing solo, but instead delivers an understated, unconvincing lead lacking excitement and dexterity. “Red Moon of Despair” starts promisingly enough, yet drops to a two-minute slog of glacial pacing. The same framework repeats on “Beneath the Reeds,” and yet again on “Hemipenes; The Embrace of Cloacal Desire.” Rather than mirroring a narrative or cleverly subverting expectations, these pivots can seem haphazard or lazy, leading to either frustration or boredom.

In spite of a great album concept and comparisons to bands I enjoy, Crotaline’s debut fails to charm my snake. Predictable songwriting and uninspired performances make The Embrace of Cloacal Desire’s thirty-five minutes feel longer than they are, and no song manages to entirely sidestep these issues. Even so, it takes guts to write this wild shit, and even more so to memorialize these ideas in song. Venom lurks within Crotaline, but the band needs to retool their bite. Hopefully they can figure it out and give us a rousing sophomore resurgence. Until then, I’m left to wonder if maybe I’m bored with it, or maybe it’s Crotaline.

Rating: Bad
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

When it comes to snakes and music, I’m a simple man. I think of Testament’s Brotherhood of the Snake, High on Fire’s Snakes for the Divine, Deicide’s Serpents of the Light, and Sir Mix-a-Lot. And now Philadelphia’s Crotaline1 slithers in flaunting first-wave-of-black-metal ballads rife with references to snake genitalia. Black metal’s second wave garners most of the attention, having shaped what most consider to be the genre’s trve north, but Mayhem, Darkthrone, Immortal, and Emperor never would have become what they are without Bathory’s lo-fi virulence, Venom’s proto-thrashed, punk-informed edgelording, and Celtic Frost’s sinister atmospheres and doomy trudges. First-wave black metal fairly characterizes what Crotaline provides on debut The Embrace of Cloacal Desire, as it’s ridden with direct, unadorned riffing, torturous plods, and a classically DIY aesthetic. Crotaline’s debut sounds like a blast, and I hope it is—my anaconda don’t want none unless it’s got fun, hun.

In many senses, The Embrace of Cloacal Desire is a primitive album. Crotaline relates carnal tales of ophidian lust in straightforward spurts of stripped-down metal, preferring uncomplicated riffs and instrumentation to deliver their herpetological gospel. In this way, Crotaline reminds me more of Hellhammer than Bathory or Celtic Frost. Tom G. Warrior’s (Triptykon) first project,2 Hellhammer distinguished itself more for its chaos and enthusiasm than its execution. Similarly, The Embrace of Cloacal Desire attacks with zealous verve, flitting through nine tracks of intermittently thrashy and doom-laden black metal. Despite the bold mashup of genres, though, Crotaline never quite brings their fangs within striking distance.

The Embrace of Cloacal Desire by Crotaline

Two primary issues plague The Embrace of Cloacal Desire, and each boils down to the same root cause—simplicity. While the drums supply a commendable rhythmic thunder, mostly Crotaline’s performance either plays too safe or lacks the technical firepower to achieve big moments. After a protracted minute-and-a-half intro, opener “Breeding the End” gets properly started. Unleashing a classic thrash riff recalling Bonded by Blood-era Exodus, a peppy bass groove joins in to underpin the melody. The pace slows at the chorus, cutting to a second riff before wending back to the main one. “Widow’s Web” kicks in next, treating listeners to a Venom-meets-Bathory hook that, just like the preceding song, tamps the brakes for vocals and a bridge. The pattern wears thin quickly, and The Embrace of Cloacal Desire suffers from this constricted songwriting—particularly in the back half. Too many half-formed ideas reach for big moments, only to topple into funereal crawls. For an album dedicated to dangerous snakes and sex organs, too often I’m left unthrilled and unfulfilled.

Ultimately, the lack of memorable passages and songs leaves The Embrace of Cloacal Desire as drab and listless as a shed snakeskin. Solid building blocks reside in Crotaline’s DNA, but the shapes of their assembled structures never coalesce into more than their constituent components. Where varying tempos can effectively lead to dynamic pacing and musical climaxes, Crotaline’s overuse of the fast-to-slow momentum shifts undercuts their songwriting. “As the Serpents Feast” exits the chorus and launches into a punky bridge begging for a wailing solo, but instead delivers an understated, unconvincing lead lacking excitement and dexterity. “Red Moon of Despair” starts promisingly enough, yet drops to a two-minute slog of glacial pacing. The same framework repeats on “Beneath the Reeds,” and yet again on “Hemipenes; The Embrace of Cloacal Desire.” Rather than mirroring a narrative or cleverly subverting expectations, these pivots can seem haphazard or lazy, leading to either frustration or boredom.

In spite of a great album concept and comparisons to bands I enjoy, Crotaline’s debut fails to charm my snake. Predictable songwriting and uninspired performances make The Embrace of Cloacal Desire’s thirty-five minutes feel longer than they are, and no song manages to entirely sidestep these issues. Even so, it takes guts to write this wild shit, and even more so to memorialize these ideas in song. Venom lurks within Crotaline, but the band needs to retool their bite. Hopefully they can figure it out and give us a rousing sophomore resurgence. Until then, I’m left to wonder if maybe I’m bored with it, or maybe it’s Crotaline.

Rating: Bad
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

When it comes to snakes and music, I’m a simple man. I think of Testament’s Brotherhood of the Snake, High on Fire’s Snakes for the Divine, Deicide’s Serpents of the Light, and Sir Mix-a-Lot. And now Philadelphia’s Crotaline1 slithers in flaunting first-wave-of-black-metal ballads rife with references to snake genitalia. Black metal’s second wave garners most of the attention, having shaped what most consider to be the genre’s trve north, but Mayhem, Darkthrone, Immortal, and Emperor never would have become what they are without Bathory’s lo-fi virulence, Venom’s proto-thrashed, punk-informed edgelording, and Celtic Frost’s sinister atmospheres and doomy trudges. First-wave black metal fairly characterizes what Crotaline provides on debut The Embrace of Cloacal Desire, as it’s ridden with direct, unadorned riffing, torturous plods, and a classically DIY aesthetic. Crotaline’s debut sounds like a blast, and I hope it is—my anaconda don’t want none unless it’s got fun, hun.

In many senses, The Embrace of Cloacal Desire is a primitive album. Crotaline relates carnal tales of ophidian lust in straightforward spurts of stripped-down metal, preferring uncomplicated riffs and instrumentation to deliver their herpetological gospel. In this way, Crotaline reminds me more of Hellhammer than Bathory or Celtic Frost. Tom G. Warrior’s (Triptykon) first project,2 Hellhammer distinguished itself more for its chaos and enthusiasm than its execution. Similarly, The Embrace of Cloacal Desire attacks with zealous verve, flitting through nine tracks of intermittently thrashy and doom-laden black metal. Despite the bold mashup of genres, though, Crotaline never quite brings their fangs within striking distance.

The Embrace of Cloacal Desire by Crotaline

Two primary issues plague The Embrace of Cloacal Desire, and each boils down to the same root cause—simplicity. While the drums supply a commendable rhythmic thunder, mostly Crotaline’s performance either plays too safe or lacks the technical firepower to achieve big moments. After a protracted minute-and-a-half intro, opener “Breeding the End” gets properly started. Unleashing a classic thrash riff recalling Bonded by Blood-era Exodus, a peppy bass groove joins in to underpin the melody. The pace slows at the chorus, cutting to a second riff before wending back to the main one. “Widow’s Web” kicks in next, treating listeners to a Venom-meets-Bathory hook that, just like the preceding song, tamps the brakes for vocals and a bridge. The pattern wears thin quickly, and The Embrace of Cloacal Desire suffers from this constricted songwriting—particularly in the back half. Too many half-formed ideas reach for big moments, only to topple into funereal crawls. For an album dedicated to dangerous snakes and sex organs, too often I’m left unthrilled and unfulfilled.

Ultimately, the lack of memorable passages and songs leaves The Embrace of Cloacal Desire as drab and listless as a shed snakeskin. Solid building blocks reside in Crotaline’s DNA, but the shapes of their assembled structures never coalesce into more than their constituent components. Where varying tempos can effectively lead to dynamic pacing and musical climaxes, Crotaline’s overuse of the fast-to-slow momentum shifts undercuts their songwriting. “As the Serpents Feast” exits the chorus and launches into a punky bridge begging for a wailing solo, but instead delivers an understated, unconvincing lead lacking excitement and dexterity. “Red Moon of Despair” starts promisingly enough, yet drops to a two-minute slog of glacial pacing. The same framework repeats on “Beneath the Reeds,” and yet again on “Hemipenes; The Embrace of Cloacal Desire.” Rather than mirroring a narrative or cleverly subverting expectations, these pivots can seem haphazard or lazy, leading to either frustration or boredom.

In spite of a great album concept and comparisons to bands I enjoy, Crotaline’s debut fails to charm my snake. Predictable songwriting and uninspired performances make The Embrace of Cloacal Desire’s thirty-five minutes feel longer than they are, and no song manages to entirely sidestep these issues. Even so, it takes guts to write this wild shit, and even more so to memorialize these ideas in song. Venom lurks within Crotaline, but the band needs to retool their bite. Hopefully they can figure it out and give us a rousing sophomore resurgence. Until then, I’m left to wonder if maybe I’m bored with it, or maybe it’s Crotaline.

Rating: Bad
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

When it comes to snakes and music, I’m a simple man. I think of Testament’s Brotherhood of the Snake, High on Fire’s Snakes for the Divine, Deicide’s Serpents of the Light, and Sir Mix-a-Lot. And now Philadelphia’s Crotaline1 slithers in flaunting first-wave-of-black-metal ballads rife with references to snake genitalia. Black metal’s second wave garners most of the attention, having shaped what most consider to be the genre’s trve north, but Mayhem, Darkthrone, Immortal, and Emperor never would have become what they are without Bathory’s lo-fi virulence, Venom’s proto-thrashed, punk-informed edgelording, and Celtic Frost’s sinister atmospheres and doomy trudges. First-wave black metal fairly characterizes what Crotaline provides on debut The Embrace of Cloacal Desire, as it’s ridden with direct, unadorned riffing, torturous plods, and a classically DIY aesthetic. Crotaline’s debut sounds like a blast, and I hope it is—my anaconda don’t want none unless it’s got fun, hun.

In many senses, The Embrace of Cloacal Desire is a primitive album. Crotaline relates carnal tales of ophidian lust in straightforward spurts of stripped-down metal, preferring uncomplicated riffs and instrumentation to deliver their herpetological gospel. In this way, Crotaline reminds me more of Hellhammer than Bathory or Celtic Frost. Tom G. Warrior’s (Triptykon) first project,2 Hellhammer distinguished itself more for its chaos and enthusiasm than its execution. Similarly, The Embrace of Cloacal Desire attacks with zealous verve, flitting through nine tracks of intermittently thrashy and doom-laden black metal. Despite the bold mashup of genres, though, Crotaline never quite brings their fangs within striking distance.

The Embrace of Cloacal Desire by Crotaline

Two primary issues plague The Embrace of Cloacal Desire, and each boils down to the same root cause—simplicity. While the drums supply a commendable rhythmic thunder, mostly Crotaline’s performance either plays too safe or lacks the technical firepower to achieve big moments. After a protracted minute-and-a-half intro, opener “Breeding the End” gets properly started. Unleashing a classic thrash riff recalling Bonded by Blood-era Exodus, a peppy bass groove joins in to underpin the melody. The pace slows at the chorus, cutting to a second riff before wending back to the main one. “Widow’s Web” kicks in next, treating listeners to a Venom-meets-Bathory hook that, just like the preceding song, tamps the brakes for vocals and a bridge. The pattern wears thin quickly, and The Embrace of Cloacal Desire suffers from this constricted songwriting—particularly in the back half. Too many half-formed ideas reach for big moments, only to topple into funereal crawls. For an album dedicated to dangerous snakes and sex organs, too often I’m left unthrilled and unfulfilled.

Ultimately, the lack of memorable passages and songs leaves The Embrace of Cloacal Desire as drab and listless as a shed snakeskin. Solid building blocks reside in Crotaline’s DNA, but the shapes of their assembled structures never coalesce into more than their constituent components. Where varying tempos can effectively lead to dynamic pacing and musical climaxes, Crotaline’s overuse of the fast-to-slow momentum shifts undercuts their songwriting. “As the Serpents Feast” exits the chorus and launches into a punky bridge begging for a wailing solo, but instead delivers an understated, unconvincing lead lacking excitement and dexterity. “Red Moon of Despair” starts promisingly enough, yet drops to a two-minute slog of glacial pacing. The same framework repeats on “Beneath the Reeds,” and yet again on “Hemipenes; The Embrace of Cloacal Desire.” Rather than mirroring a narrative or cleverly subverting expectations, these pivots can seem haphazard or lazy, leading to either frustration or boredom.

In spite of a great album concept and comparisons to bands I enjoy, Crotaline’s debut fails to charm my snake. Predictable songwriting and uninspired performances make The Embrace of Cloacal Desire’s thirty-five minutes feel longer than they are, and no song manages to entirely sidestep these issues. Even so, it takes guts to write this wild shit, and even more so to memorialize these ideas in song. Venom lurks within Crotaline, but the band needs to retool their bite. Hopefully they can figure it out and give us a rousing sophomore resurgence. Until then, I’m left to wonder if maybe I’m bored with it, or maybe it’s Crotaline.

Rating: Bad
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/fi/183361/ Black Metal: parhaat sanoittajat genressä #CradleOfFilth #darkthrone #Entertainment #FI #Finland #Finnish #immortal #mayhem #Music #Musiikki #Suomi #viihde

Sexmag – Sexorcyzm Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

Thanks to the ever flippery Dolph, I am blessed to have the Sexmag in my life. And you will be too. Regardless of whether you hide them away under your bed or display them in the guest bathroom, the sex mag is back to being a staple in all homes. If it’s classy or filthy smut is up to the beholder, just as long as your children don’t find them. While Poland’s Sexmag and new album, Sexorcyzm, sound like a new addition to the Lordi sump of “metal,” they’re far from it. Tagged as a death-thrash outfit, this little foursome is surprisingly fun and versatile for what they do. I’d go even further than these two genres and pin old-school 80s heavy and hints of black metal to their influences, which adds a beautiful depth and uniqueness to their sound that I haven’t heard in some time. I mean, it’s still as slimy as Midnight, but there is much fun on Sexmag’s debut album. Buckle up, fuckers, we’re about to get sexy.

Formed around stalwarts of the Polish underground metal scene, Sexmag appears to have a newcomer to the metal world in the form of vocalist Jacek “Truposz” Wojno. Having never heard his voice before, his odd vocals provide the right amount of support for the band’s songwriting style. In combination with drummer/vocalist Lord Violator, you’ll find everything from low-to-high register rasps, death growls, falsetto screams, and that odd, clean vocal approach that brings to mind Fenriz’s vocal contributions to recent Darkthrone releases. In the same vein of varying vocal approaches, you’ll find old-school death marches, Slayer-esque thrash moments, and impressive guitar leads and solos that reincarnate the spirit of Mercyful Fate. And to top it off, this eight-track, forty-minute debut sees track runtimes ranging from two minutes to seven.

The appropriately (and ridiculously titled) opener, “Intro (Total Metal),” gets things rolling with an instrumental piece that could have worked well on King Diamond’s Conspiracy album. It does a nice job setting the mood for the upcoming tracks, matching the sinister tone of Sexorcyzm before erupting into “Inkubus.” This track showcases an old-school speed lick that morphs into an 80s-inspired death groove. But, like all the tracks on the album, there is never a dull moment in the riff department. As the song progresses, the two vocalists introduce every vocal style they can dish out with the guitars mindfuck you into oblivion. I particularly like this song because it sounds like the band struggles to match the pace between guitars and drums. But that’s a facade once it gets rolling, and the band’s performances throughout are impressive as hell.

While the front half is good, the album’s back half is great. Specifically, the back-to-back-to-back “Sex z diabłem,” “Córy Koryntu,” and “Psalm I – Intronizacja Szatana.” Like the opener, “Sex z diabłem” begins with some eerie synths before unleashing one of the most badass death chugs on the album. Then, as expected, this seven-minute ditty tears through riff after killer riff, providing moments of old-school Slayer before making a U-turn into an 80s heavy metal plod. It also sports the most solos I’ve heard in a single song in a long time. “Córy Koryntu,” on the other hand, is a slimy, mucky Autopsy-inspired cesspool that eventually escapes the mud in favor of pounding drums and clinical riff mastery. “Psalm I – Intronizacja Szatana” is perhaps the favorite here, opening with clean guitars that bring to mind the intro to Mercyful Fate’s “Into the Coven.” Then, it takes a wild turn for the remainder of the song, bringing to life Blood Fire Death Bathoryisms that could have worked as a bonus track to any of Bathory’s Viking era albums.

While the vocal diversity can be outlandish at times, and songs like “Smród palonych dusz” don’t hold up to the others, Sexorcyzm is a hell of a good time and a smart debut record. Coming into this release, I was dead set on dropping a dozen cheeky sex jokes, but Sexorcyzm is too much fun for even Grier to masturbate all over. Take all the impressive skill and well-crafted structure, then add a dynamic DR9 master to it, and you have an orgy that even the strictest Mormon mother can enjoy. I’m not sure what’s to come for these Polish bastards, but if our new pope continues to support the Sexorcyzm, I’m fully on board.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Dying Victims Productions | Bandcamp
Websites: Too kvlt for this shit
Releases Worldwide: May 23rd, 2025

#2025 #35 #Autopsy #Bathory #BlackMetal #Darkthrone #DeathMetal #DyingVictimsProductions #HeavyMetal #KingDiamond #Lordi #May25 #MercyfulFate #Midnight #PolishMetal #Review #Reviews #Sexmag #Sexorcyzm #Slayer #ThrashMetal

Dr. A.N. Grier’s Top Ten(ish) of 2024

By Dr. A.N. Grier

If I were to rate the year of our Lord 2024, I’d give it a solid 4.5/5.0. No, I joke. FUCK 2024. Good riddance, fuck off, goodfuckingbye. This year, the layoffs continued (even affected some of our writers here), the prices skyrocketed, the World Series was bullshit, and landfills across the States are twice their capacity thanks to useless election fliers. This year has resulted in practically zero time to work on AMG efforts, write reviews, or listen to music as I continue to try to keep my job. Yay. Cheers to you, 2024—you sack of horse shit. Let’s go, 2025, you sassy bitch who suggests great things to come but probably won’t deliver. If only you could promise me more time doing the things I love—listening to metal, writing about it, and pretending to edit the other writers’ reviews while completely hammered. If so, I’d kiss you as the ball drops, take you to the back alley during the after-party, and promise not to poison your coffee the next morning.

But we aren’t there yet. We are still stuck in the past, looking over a mediocre year of metal, regurgitating the same shit we already wrote for each album on our lists. That way, you all can praise, argue, and whine about each choice and its placement. Thankfully, my lists rarely overlap with anyone else’s and no one actually gives a fuck, so my sleep patterns remain the same. Having passed the ten-year mark at this amazing madland, my tastes remain the same, and no one will be surprised that most of the selections here are the items I alone reviewed. That changes occasionally but with no time to think about music this year, you’ll be treated to odd takes and albums that only scored a 3.0. Oh no!1

Thank you to the AMG staff for their lackluster productivity and overrating tendencies. To Dolph, Kenny, and Sharky for introducing new segments and keeping legacy ones alive. And to Cuervo and GardensTale for the additional year-end contributions they deliver. I also have to give a huge shoutout to the top bosses—AMG and Steel Daddy—for all they do2. I guess I should also thank all of you for your continued support. I guess. May this list find you well as we are thrust into 2025 and the potential nightmares that it’ll bring. Cheers.

#ish. I Am the Intimidator // I Am the Intimidator – What? You fucking knew this was coming. When Steel told me to review an album about NASCAR and Dale Earnhardt, I couldn’t not do it. I mean, this one-off, self-titled record from a one-off band was a perfect opportunity to unleash my rage. And then… wait, what the fuck? It’s actually kinda good? In a weird year where I reviewed two racing-related albums, I Am the Intimidator sports3 six wild tracks that combine Dio and Iron Maiden with Ministry. What the fuck? And, somehow, the lyrics would be fucking hilarious if they weren’t so passionate. OK, the lyrics of the surprisingly delicious and crushing “Gasoline” are fucking hilarious, and a regular, all-caps attack in the AMG channels. After all the chaos and wild influences that make up this tight, six-track album, the passion for “The Intimidator” is true, even if it’s weird. But, I can’t stop listening to this album any more than I can stop drinking beer.

#10. Dust Bolt // Sound & Fury – Like so many other Grier lists, there’s always an album that becomes the most frequented in my shit-filled ears. Yup, I know, you all fucking hate it, and I couldn’t care less. For the band (and style), Sound & Fury is a brave effort that I find addictive, fun, and hilarious trolling material when Steel talks shit. Is it thrash? No, but that didn’t stop me from proclaiming Load as Metallica’s best album. Shifting away from the overused thrash concept and mediocre record releases, Dust Bolt chose the unconventional route of cleaner vocals, smoother production, and catchier choruses to remove themselves from their past outings (and, some would argue, from thrash and metal in general). For you naysayers, there are plenty of headbangable moments on Sound & Fury, so you don’t have to feel like a poser singing these new songs in your mom’s shower.

#9. Midnight // Hellish Expectations – Perhaps one of the most prolific metal bands out there, what can I say about Midnight that I haven’t said already? Oh yeah, they’re badass and if you don’t like them, you’re shit. Also, fuck you. Like previous releases, Midnight continues to speed through riffs that bring to mind classic outfits like Darkthrone, Motörhead, Venom, and Celtic Frost at a relentless speed. While other Midnight records are better, Hellish Expectations joins its compatriots in a discog that can do no wrong. Unless, of course, you don’t like this band’s style. In that case, read above regarding that “fuck you” thing. What makes Hellish Expectations great in this frustrating year is that it caps at twenty-five wonderful minutes—which is the same amount of time it takes to shit out your morning coffee. So, this is a chance to correct your poserness. If you like this band, you already know Hellish Expectations is a fun ride that’ll keep your spikes sharp and your leather pants shit free.

#8. Bombus // Your Blood – Like another band on my list, this Swedish heavy metal, hard rock band has seen a lot of ups and downs in their career. And, for some reason, their co-founding vocalist and guitarist walked. But that didn’t stop Bombus. Not only did they find someone to fill those two slots, but they also added another guitarist to round it out to three. With these new additions, the skill displayed on Your Blood is superior to anything the band has ever done. There’re solos, harmonizing leads, and riffs up the fucking wazoo. I’m uncertain if it’s due to this new skillset or an increase in motivation with five years between albums, but Bombus held nothing back for Your Blood. While there are plenty of the bangers you would expect from a band of this caliber, like the addictive “Take You Down,” there are also other interesting inclusions that I should hate, yet love. For example, the weird, Spaghetti Western qualities of “Your Blood,” the Nick Cave-meets-The White Stripes musings of “The One,” and the bizarreness that is “Carmina.” With Your Blood, the band has found their groove and passion again, delivering their best album yet.

#7. Vanessa Funke // Void – This year brought a surprising new addition to my favorite bands of all time. In this case, it was the newest release from the multi-instrumentalist, Vanessa Funke. With a small but stellar catalog, Ms. Funke continuously dabbles in new influences and song approaches with each album and Void is no different. Coming off last year’s acoustic masterpiece Vanessa Funke rewinds to her debut record, Solitude, alternating between rasps and cleans, acoustic and distorted guitars, and her perfectly molded combination of folk, melodeath, and atmospheric black metal. The textures created by the vocals, guitars, keys, and piano take Void down into some incredible depths, engulfing its listeners in blankets that can be both soft and stabby. Albums like this are rare for me these days, so when they do completely submerse me to the point that I can’t think of anything else, there’s no doubt it’ll make it on my year-end list.

#6. Crystal Viper // The Silver Key – Maybe not everyone’s favorite Polish act,4 Crystal Viper’s founding vocalist and guitarist, Marta Gabriel, has been knocking around her blend of heavy and power metal for nearly two decades. But, it’s been a rocky road of great, mediocre, and rage-inducing records. Where Crimen Expecta shines like a bright star in the sky, Tales of Fire and Ice is a dumpster fire that topped my most disappointing album of 2019. When I approached this year’s The Silver Key, I was expecting another mid album (or worse) but was immediately engrossed—maybe even more than Crimen Expecta. Though many of you dislike the vocals, Gabriel is in top form. But, her vocal performance is only one aspect of the Crystal Viper sound. Her guitar work is some of the best of her career, lending new ideas to the song structures and album flow. While plenty of bands are—and are not better—than Crystal Viper, The Silver Key is undeniably one of the best albums of their career.

#5. Sidewinder // Talons – Most likely one of the only overlaps I’ll have with the cunts that work here,5 Sidewinder’s newest release, Talons, threw me for a loop. Not expecting anything from a band I’ve never heard about, Talons immediately got my noggin’ bobbin’ in the most pleasing way. I can’t pinpoint exactly why I like this style of heavy, bounding stoner metal, but every time I hear it, it clicks. And nothing is better than diving right into a record where one of the band’s best pieces is the opener. “Guardians” is a quintessential Sidewinder piece that personifies the band and everything they stand for. But that’s only the beginning, as the guitars cruise down the road and the bass rumbles through the gravel. Clocking in at a mere thirty-four minutes, this eight-track beauty never reaches beyond its means, ensuring the songs are straight and tight, allowing Jem’s powerful vocals to direct the varying moods. While the band resides in the lush and beautiful landscapes of New Zealand,6 if a sound could represent the harsh desert lands of my home, this would be it.

#4. Aborted // Vault of Horrors – As many know, death metal is not my cup o’ tea. Once upon a time, death metal was my life, but that ship sailed when my favorites grew old and repetitive, and what you all call death metal these days bores me to tears. But the one band that continues to make me salivate is Aborted.7 And, boy, did this year’s Vault of Horrors deliver. With tracks like “Dreadbringer,” “The Golgothan,” and “Malevolent Haze,” this new release offers some incredible depth and relentless brutality. Aborted has always delivered good-to-great albums but after nearly thirty years, how can these lads continue to improve and produce such quality releases? Vault of Horrors is a great record and arguably one of the band’s best. It’s been several months since this beauty was released, so if it passed by you, rectify your posersivity.

#3. The Vision Bleak // Weird Tales – I don’t know what it is about The Vision Bleak but they fucking hit me and hit me hard. On the surface, their style is quite simple, but it’s the layers, stories, mood, and damning vocal performances that draw me in like I’m viewing a Vincent Price horror marathon. Combining their Type O Negative vocal characteristics with atmospheric moods that can be depressive at one point and ethereal at another, The Vision Bleak took a massive leap by releasing Weird Tales as (technically) a one-song album. Eight years since their incredible The Unknown, Weird Tales doesn’t skip a beat, maintaining the duo’s title as one of the greatest bands in gothic metal. With magnificent builds, eerie transitions, mind-bending fluidity, and heart-wrenching passages, the haunting nature of Weird Tales leaves you contemplating your existence in a world controlled by the fate instilled in it by the late, great H.P. Lovecraft.

#2. Kingcrow // Hopium – For fucking months, our progressive cunt, Dolphin Whisper, tried desperately to steal Kingcrow’s Hopium from me—somehow thinking he’s better than me when it comes to describing the lushness of Kingcrow. The fuck. Even though Kingcrow hasn’t released an album in six years, there’s no way some flipper fucker would take this from me. Sure, I’m not a huge fan of progressive metal, but at least I know what’s good progressive metal instead of lazily making love to everything with the tag of “prog.” Anyway, Hopium continues to deliver gorgeous tapestries painted with soothing vocals, synthy atmospheres, and impressive performances for all involved. Though I consider Eidos their best, Hopium is not far behind. While tapping into common influences like Dream Theater and Spock’s Beard, this Italian outfit is very much on a level all its own. If you like prog, you’ll find Hopium—with such wildly varying tracks like “Vicous Circle,” “Parallel Lines,” and “White Rabit’s Hole”—to be the most diverse prog record of the year.

#1. Borknagar // Fall – Goddammit, I love Borknagar. Few bands have such high album scores for a career that spans thirty years and a dozen albums—especially with a constant rotation of players and vocalists. Though, how can you be pissed off about having any of the great vocalists Borknagar has employed throughout the years? Since the beginning, the band has continuously introduced more melody and keys in their music, but Fall is special compared to the output in the last twenty years. Though this new album hasn’t hung up that hat by any means, Øystein G. Brun, Lars A. Nedland, and crew dug through the ashes of the past to bring some of those old-school black metal moments back into the mix. From the blackened assault of “Summits” and the Dimmu Borgir-esque vibes of “Northward,” the band continues to shock and surprise, avoiding a repetition from a previous album. So, dive into the best album o’ the year in all its glory.8

Honorable Mentions

• Portrait // The Host – While I didn’t like the production of Portrait’s The Host, I’m still a slut for King Diamond and Meryful Fate-adjacent metal. Especially when it comes to Portrait, who continues to be less like a copycat and more like a pioneer of the style.
• Attic // Return of the Witchfinder – More King Diamond-core! Easily one of the best examples of the sound, Attic continues to keep me coming back with each release. As their predecessor, Return of the Witchfinder brings a new story, more twists, and those pleasing falsettos that trigger my “O” face.
• Sarke // Endo Feight – Sarke (the artist) and crew have had one hell of a busy couple of years. This year, in particular, sees not only a new Sarke release but also a new Khold record (see below). Endo Feight is a wonderful addition to the band’s catalog and, by god, it’s wonderful to see the man himself back behind the kit.
• Khold // Du dømmes til død – See? I told you it would be here. While 2022’s Svartsyn was better record than Du dømmes til død (and a fantastic comeback), Du dømmes til død still has those elements that make the band so unique and fun to listen to.
• Blood Red Throne // Nonagon – Three years ago, Blood Red Throne released not only one of their best albums but 2021’s best death metal record. Unsurprisingly, it’s difficult to follow something like Imperial Congregation without some hiccups. That said, Nonagon is still a brutal piece of work worthy of mentioning.

Disappointments o’ the Year

• Darkthrone // It Beckons Us All……. – Like Sarke, Nocturno Culto has also been busy this year. If that’s part of the reason for the utter bore that’s It Beckons Us All……., I don’t know. But, this new record feels like Darkthrone is going through the motions. While I respect that they don’t care what the fuck any of us think, this is one of their worst albums.
• Exhorder // Defectum Omnium – After Exhorder’s incredible comeback album, Mourn the Southern Skies, I was more than a little excited for this new one. Unfortunately, like Darkthrone’s newest, Defectum Omnium is a dreadfully boring record that lacks all the passion of Exhorder’s comeback, leaving me confused and pissed the fuck off.

Songs o’ the Year

• Kingcrow – “White Rabbit’s Hole” – With an album full of great songs, there’s just something about the energy of this track that makes me so happy.

• Sidewinder – “Guardians” – This song represents some of the best stoner metal of 2024, and I can’t stop listening to it.

• Bombus – “Take You Down” – This song is just badass. I couldn’t care less what you think. Die.

Show 8 footnotes

1. Fuck off, this happens every year. ↩
2. Don’t call me Steel Daddy ever again! – Steel Daddy ↩
3. See what I did there? ↩
4. They can’t all be Vaders, ya fucks! ↩
5. Love you, GardensTale. ↩
6. Well, that’s what the Lord of the Rings movies tell me. ↩
7. Yeah, yeah, bitch all you want about including this band into my collective bubble of “death metal.” ↩
8. Also, stop listening to “Nordic Anthem” by itself. Fucking idiots. ↩

#2024 #Aborted #Attic #BlogPosts #BloodRedThrone #Bombus #Borknagar #CelticFrost #CrystalViper #Darkthrone #DimmuBorgir #Dio #DrANGrierSTopTenIshOf2024 #DreamTheater #DustBolt #Exhorder #IAmTheIntimidator #IronMaiden #Khold #KingDiamond #Kingcrow #Lists #MercyfulFate #Metallica #Midnight #Ministry #Motörhead #NickCave #Portrait #Sarke #Sidewinder #SpockSBeard #TheVisionBleak #TheWhiteStripes #TypeONegative #Vader #VanessaFunke #Venom

Tyrannic – Tyrannic Desolation Review

By Mark Z.

No matter how far today’s bands push the envelope, no matter how weird or experimental or innovative modern music becomes, there will always be bands who look around and simply say: “Fuck that, give me Celtic Frost.” Australia’s Tyrannic is one such band. The trio’s founding member, vocalist, and drummer “R.,” has readily admitted that Tom G. Warrior’s brainchild is their biggest influence, though the band’s music isn’t just another carbon copy of Morbid Tales. For the past decade, the group seems to have steadily been gaining attention in the underground due not just to their consistent “cemetery photoshoot” album art, but also their strange combination of black and doom metal. The band seemed to really start turning heads with their second album, 2021’s Mortuus Decadence, which I enjoyed for its sinister atmosphere and epic climaxes. With third album Tyrannic Desolation, the group has largely opted to stick to the same burial grounds as before, but are they able to continue unearthing interesting material?

Yes and no. At first listen, Tyrannic Desolation sounds like the lo-fi extreme metal of Throneum with a bit of Tyrannic’s own special sauce mixed in. Many of these eight songs fill a decent amount of their runtimes with tight, creaky guitar lines that are propelled by clattering, off-kilter drums and vocals that run the gamut from rancid rasps to fervent war shouts to anguished hollers. Perhaps most interesting, however, are the deep operatic vocals that wail just out of the foreground during the doomier segments. The album’s opening duo, “Prophetic Eyes of Glass” and the title track, both slow down after their faster first halves to deliver such operatic singing between eerie, immense, and twisting guitar lines that sound like Candlemass gone black metal.

The approach works well enough at first, but by the time “Impaled before Your Mirror of Fate” hits halfway through the record’s runtime, the “fast first half and doomy second half” songwriting formula begins to lose its footing. Fortunately, the album’s second half adds diversity via ideas that are doomier, gloomier, and weirder. “Dance on Graves Chained to the Labyrinth” is perhaps the most interesting track here,1 as the song creates a strange and ominous mood with its squealing, Mithras-style soloing and bold decision to have the entire band play with no drumming for almost all of the track’s five-and-a-half minute runtime. Later songs like “Incubus Incarnate” and the closer, “Morbid Sanctum,” really drive home the doom, with both songs featuring deathly and morose guitar lines that would sound perfectly fitting at a funeral.

Tyrannic Desolation contains compelling moments, but I can’t say the record as a whole blows me away. While I appreciate how naturally Tyrannic transitions between styles, the album seems content to merely twist and contort itself rather than offer any true hooks or standout riffs. Thus, even while things change in ways that should be compelling, the overall experience ends up just feeling inconsequential. Songs like “Only Death Can Speak My Name” and “Stillbirth in Still Life” are perhaps the least interesting of the bunch, with the former featuring odd, sour notes and the latter being little more than a long, anguished death crawl that doesn’t offer enough to stand out from its brethren. Fortunately, the dry and raw production is a good fit for what the band is going for, with the unpolished guitars and in-your-face sound somehow working together to create a surprisingly strong atmosphere. The drum performance also keeps everything fluid while possessing a natural, unassuming quality that I find endearing.

Tyrannic has a cool vibe, and I always appreciate bands that use a retro sound and aesthetic without regurgitating things we’ve heard a million times before. In this way, the band reminds me of what modern Darkthrone is doing, and Tyrannic’s ultimate level of quality here is about as mixed as Fenriz and company’s albums have been for the last two decades. For those interested in the odder and more foreboding edges of extreme metal, Tyrannic Desolation offers forty-eight minutes that might be worth your while. For me? While I can appreciate the band’s interesting style and ghastly atmosphere, I can’t say for certain I’ll be joining them on their next jaunt through the cemetery.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Iron Bonehead Productions
Website: tyrannic.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: November 22nd, 2024

#25 #2024 #AustralianMetal #BlackMetal #Candlemass #CelticFrost #Darkthrone #DoomMetal #IronBoneheadProductions #Mithras #Nov24 #Review #Reviews #Throneum #Tyrannic #TyrannicDesolation