#deathdoom — Public Fediverse posts

Draconian is an institution. Since Where Lovers Mourn dropped 23 years ago, the Swedish death doom sextet upheld an unflappable standard of quality across seven records, marking a legendary discography matched by precious few. Everyone has their favorite out of those seven tomes, but it’s fairly uncommon to find a shared preference. This not only speaks to the diversity of Draconian’s sound despite their tried and true template, but also to the reliable nature of their compositions, capable of striking at the heart of anyone who might encounter them. I, just as susceptible to Draconian’s hooded charm, miraculously came into possession of their eighth outing, In Somnolent Ruin, albeit quite late. However, it took no time whatsoever to recognize that it was special.

As if in celebration of their reunion with original siren Lisa Johansson, Draconian amplified both the beautiful and the beastly sides of their trademark sound for In Somnolent Ruin. Heavy as Arcane Rain Fell and A Rose for the Apocalypse (“The Monochrome Blade”) and delicate as Sovran and Under a Godless Veil (“Lethe”), In Somnolent Ruin trudges inexorably through an unknowable pall with desperate fury and earnest sorrow. A dichotomy of intensity and grace embodies this hour-long funereal march, gloom and mist gently grazing the skin as the earth churns underfoot and a clouded sky thunders above. The emotions conjured through Draconian’s gothic spell, deep ripples that oscillate between tension and release in overwhelming concentrations, black out my vision and light up my synapses. This is what Draconian is known for, and what they do so well they’ve rarely done better than on In Somnolent Ruin.

Whereas Draconian routinely succeeds in songwriting across all of their records, In Somnolent Ruin blossoms primarily because of the striking performances it houses. Lisa and Anders Jacobsson shine here, each pouring every fiber of their being into their vocals (“The Monochrome Blade,” “The Face of God,” “Cold Heavens”). Anders sounds particularly venomous, his serrated growls and screaming rasps curdling my blood and melting my bones with every utterance (“I Gave You Wings”). Lisa belts like never before, showcasing a range and power I didn’t realize she possessed (“Cold Heavens”). Not to be outclassed, guitarists Johan Ericson and Niklas Nord shove thunderous riffs against each other and in concert with only the most bleeding-heart lead melodies (“I Welcome Thy Arrow,” “Misanthrope River”), creating a wonderful miasma of textures and tones that swirl with the deadly grace of smoke. Drummer Daniel Johansson and Bassist Daniel Arvidsson form a formidable rhythm section to bolster In Somnolent Ruin with great heft and shrewd patterns. Daniel Johansson in particular impresses with beats and fills that almost refuse to mimic Niklas’ riffs, instead forging his own path weaving in and out of the spaces between guitars and vocals with powerful muscularity. Working as a finely tuned machine, Draconian’s performance on In Somnolent Ruin is a rare coalescence that elevates every crest and crescendo beyond greatness.

That greatness nonetheless extends to songwriting, as In Somnolent Ruin showcases some of Draconian’s coolest pieces in their discography. With no fewer than four contenders for my Songs o’ the Year playlist (“The Monochrome Blade,” “The Face of God,” “I Gave You Wings,” “Cold Heavens”), the impact of these nine songs, both isolated from and integrated with the whole, leaves nothing but dust and rubble at my feet. Emotionally devastating, richly detailed, and imposing in stature, only one word approaches adequacy when intimating my impressions: majestic. Towering arcs that connect poignant storytelling to heartfelt expressiveness personify In Somnolent Ruin’s transition from the riff-laden challenge “I Welcome Thy Arrow” to the bitter death of “Lethe.” As I traverse that arc, marvelous transitions guide my way through twists and gnarls as beautiful in form as they are lethal to the touch. Draconian created something familiar enough to caress and comfort but surprising in its vitality and charisma, such that each fresh spin feels as compelling and impactful as the first.

I’m left astounded, alone in a clearing of brush and fog. So few discographies boast such reliable and recognizable greatness, but even fewer offer late-stage monoliths of this scale. To critique small nitpicks like the relative innocuousness of interlude “Asteria Beneath the Tranquil Sea” or the slightly less impressive “Anima” feels disingenuous—as if to do so is merely to make up for a perceived neglect of my responsibility to evaluation. Yet even accounting for this internal debate, In Somnolent Ruin is a rare triumph. A love letter to Draconian’s storied past and a celebration of their modern era, refined to staggering excellence.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: Buried Under 6 Feet of Bandwidth | Format Reviewed: Misanthrope Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

Draconian is an institution. Since Where Lovers Mourn dropped 23 years ago, the Swedish death doom sextet upheld an unflappable standard of quality across seven records, marking a legendary discography matched by precious few. Everyone has their favorite out of those seven tomes, but it’s fairly uncommon to find a shared preference. This not only speaks to the diversity of Draconian’s sound despite their tried and true template, but also to the reliable nature of their compositions, capable of striking at the heart of anyone who might encounter them. I, just as susceptible to Draconian’s hooded charm, miraculously came into possession of their eighth outing, In Somnolent Ruin, albeit quite late. However, it took no time whatsoever to recognize that it was special.

As if in celebration of their reunion with original siren Lisa Johansson, Draconian amplified both the beautiful and the beastly sides of their trademark sound for In Somnolent Ruin. Heavy as Arcane Rain Fell and A Rose for the Apocalypse (“The Monochrome Blade”) and delicate as Sovran and Under a Godless Veil (“Lethe”), In Somnolent Ruin trudges inexorably through an unknowable pall with desperate fury and earnest sorrow. A dichotomy of intensity and grace embodies this hour-long funereal march, gloom and mist gently grazing the skin as the earth churns underfoot and a clouded sky thunders above. The emotions conjured through Draconian’s gothic spell, deep ripples that oscillate between tension and release in overwhelming concentrations, black out my vision and light up my synapses. This is what Draconian is known for, and what they do so well they’ve rarely done better than on In Somnolent Ruin.

Whereas Draconian routinely succeeds in songwriting across all of their records, In Somnolent Ruin blossoms primarily because of the striking performances it houses. Lisa and Anders Jacobsson shine here, each pouring every fiber of their being into their vocals (“The Monochrome Blade,” “The Face of God,” “Cold Heavens”). Anders sounds particularly venomous, his serrated growls and screaming rasps curdling my blood and melting my bones with every utterance (“I Gave You Wings”). Lisa belts like never before, showcasing a range and power I didn’t realize she possessed (“Cold Heavens”). Not to be outclassed, guitarists Johan Ericson and Niklas Nord shove thunderous riffs against each other and in concert with only the most bleeding-heart lead melodies (“I Welcome Thy Arrow,” “Misanthrope River”), creating a wonderful miasma of textures and tones that swirl with the deadly grace of smoke. Drummer Daniel Johansson and Bassist Daniel Arvidsson form a formidable rhythm section to bolster In Somnolent Ruin with great heft and shrewd patterns. Daniel Johansson in particular impresses with beats and fills that almost refuse to mimic Niklas’ riffs, instead forging his own path weaving in and out of the spaces between guitars and vocals with powerful muscularity. Working as a finely tuned machine, Draconian’s performance on In Somnolent Ruin is a rare coalescence that elevates every crest and crescendo beyond greatness.

That greatness nonetheless extends to songwriting, as In Somnolent Ruin showcases some of Draconian’s coolest pieces in their discography. With no fewer than four contenders for my Songs o’ the Year playlist (“The Monochrome Blade,” “The Face of God,” “I Gave You Wings,” “Cold Heavens”), the impact of these nine songs, both isolated from and integrated with the whole, leaves nothing but dust and rubble at my feet. Emotionally devastating, richly detailed, and imposing in stature, only one word approaches adequacy when intimating my impressions: majestic. Towering arcs that connect poignant storytelling to heartfelt expressiveness personify In Somnolent Ruin’s transition from the riff-laden challenge “I Welcome Thy Arrow” to the bitter death of “Lethe.” As I traverse that arc, marvelous transitions guide my way through twists and gnarls as beautiful in form as they are lethal to the touch. Draconian created something familiar enough to caress and comfort but surprising in its vitality and charisma, such that each fresh spin feels as compelling and impactful as the first.

I’m left astounded, alone in a clearing of brush and fog. So few discographies boast such reliable and recognizable greatness, but even fewer offer late-stage monoliths of this scale. To critique small nitpicks like the relative innocuousness of interlude “Asteria Beneath the Tranquil Sea” or the slightly less impressive “Anima” feels disingenuous—as if to do so is merely to make up for a perceived neglect of my responsibility to evaluation. Yet even accounting for this internal debate, In Somnolent Ruin is a rare triumph. A love letter to Draconian’s storied past and a celebration of their modern era, refined to staggering excellence.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: Buried Under 6 Feet of Bandwidth | Format Reviewed: Misanthrope Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

Draconian is an institution. Since Where Lovers Mourn dropped 23 years ago, the Swedish death doom sextet upheld an unflappable standard of quality across seven records, marking a legendary discography matched by precious few. Everyone has their favorite out of those seven tomes, but it’s fairly uncommon to find a shared preference. This not only speaks to the diversity of Draconian’s sound despite their tried and true template, but also to the reliable nature of their compositions, capable of striking at the heart of anyone who might encounter them. I, just as susceptible to Draconian’s hooded charm, miraculously came into possession of their eighth outing, In Somnolent Ruin, albeit quite late. However, it took no time whatsoever to recognize that it was special.

As if in celebration of their reunion with original siren Lisa Johansson, Draconian amplified both the beautiful and the beastly sides of their trademark sound for In Somnolent Ruin. Heavy as Arcane Rain Fell and A Rose for the Apocalypse (“The Monochrome Blade”) and delicate as Sovran and Under a Godless Veil (“Lethe”), In Somnolent Ruin trudges inexorably through an unknowable pall with desperate fury and earnest sorrow. A dichotomy of intensity and grace embodies this hour-long funereal march, gloom and mist gently grazing the skin as the earth churns underfoot and a clouded sky thunders above. The emotions conjured through Draconian’s gothic spell, deep ripples that oscillate between tension and release in overwhelming concentrations, black out my vision and light up my synapses. This is what Draconian is known for, and what they do so well they’ve rarely done better than on In Somnolent Ruin.

Whereas Draconian routinely succeeds in songwriting across all of their records, In Somnolent Ruin blossoms primarily because of the striking performances it houses. Lisa and Anders Jacobsson shine here, each pouring every fiber of their being into their vocals (“The Monochrome Blade,” “The Face of God,” “Cold Heavens”). Anders sounds particularly venomous, his serrated growls and screaming rasps curdling my blood and melting my bones with every utterance (“I Gave You Wings”). Lisa belts like never before, showcasing a range and power I didn’t realize she possessed (“Cold Heavens”). Not to be outclassed, guitarists Johan Ericson and Niklas Nord shove thunderous riffs against each other and in concert with only the most bleeding-heart lead melodies (“I Welcome Thy Arrow,” “Misanthrope River”), creating a wonderful miasma of textures and tones that swirl with the deadly grace of smoke. Drummer Daniel Johansson and Bassist Daniel Arvidsson form a formidable rhythm section to bolster In Somnolent Ruin with great heft and shrewd patterns. Daniel Johansson in particular impresses with beats and fills that almost refuse to mimic Niklas’ riffs, instead forging his own path weaving in and out of the spaces between guitars and vocals with powerful muscularity. Working as a finely tuned machine, Draconian’s performance on In Somnolent Ruin is a rare coalescence that elevates every crest and crescendo beyond greatness.

That greatness nonetheless extends to songwriting, as In Somnolent Ruin showcases some of Draconian’s coolest pieces in their discography. With no fewer than four contenders for my Songs o’ the Year playlist (“The Monochrome Blade,” “The Face of God,” “I Gave You Wings,” “Cold Heavens”), the impact of these nine songs, both isolated from and integrated with the whole, leaves nothing but dust and rubble at my feet. Emotionally devastating, richly detailed, and imposing in stature, only one word approaches adequacy when intimating my impressions: majestic. Towering arcs that connect poignant storytelling to heartfelt expressiveness personify In Somnolent Ruin’s transition from the riff-laden challenge “I Welcome Thy Arrow” to the bitter death of “Lethe.” As I traverse that arc, marvelous transitions guide my way through twists and gnarls as beautiful in form as they are lethal to the touch. Draconian created something familiar enough to caress and comfort but surprising in its vitality and charisma, such that each fresh spin feels as compelling and impactful as the first.

I’m left astounded, alone in a clearing of brush and fog. So few discographies boast such reliable and recognizable greatness, but even fewer offer late-stage monoliths of this scale. To critique small nitpicks like the relative innocuousness of interlude “Asteria Beneath the Tranquil Sea” or the slightly less impressive “Anima” feels disingenuous—as if to do so is merely to make up for a perceived neglect of my responsibility to evaluation. Yet even accounting for this internal debate, In Somnolent Ruin is a rare triumph. A love letter to Draconian’s storied past and a celebration of their modern era, refined to staggering excellence.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: Buried Under 6 Feet of Bandwidth | Format Reviewed: Misanthrope Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

Draconian is an institution. Since Where Lovers Mourn dropped 23 years ago, the Swedish death doom sextet upheld an unflappable standard of quality across seven records, marking a legendary discography matched by precious few. Everyone has their favorite out of those seven tomes, but it’s fairly uncommon to find a shared preference. This not only speaks to the diversity of Draconian’s sound despite their tried and true template, but also to the reliable nature of their compositions, capable of striking at the heart of anyone who might encounter them. I, just as susceptible to Draconian’s hooded charm, miraculously came into possession of their eighth outing, In Somnolent Ruin, albeit quite late. However, it took no time whatsoever to recognize that it was special.

As if in celebration of their reunion with original siren Lisa Johansson, Draconian amplified both the beautiful and the beastly sides of their trademark sound for In Somnolent Ruin. Heavy as Arcane Rain Fell and A Rose for the Apocalypse (“The Monochrome Blade”) and delicate as Sovran and Under a Godless Veil (“Lethe”), In Somnolent Ruin trudges inexorably through an unknowable pall with desperate fury and earnest sorrow. A dichotomy of intensity and grace embodies this hour-long funereal march, gloom and mist gently grazing the skin as the earth churns underfoot and a clouded sky thunders above. The emotions conjured through Draconian’s gothic spell, deep ripples that oscillate between tension and release in overwhelming concentrations, black out my vision and light up my synapses. This is what Draconian is known for, and what they do so well they’ve rarely done better than on In Somnolent Ruin.

Whereas Draconian routinely succeeds in songwriting across all of their records, In Somnolent Ruin blossoms primarily because of the striking performances it houses. Lisa and Anders Jacobsson shine here, each pouring every fiber of their being into their vocals (“The Monochrome Blade,” “The Face of God,” “Cold Heavens”). Anders sounds particularly venomous, his serrated growls and screaming rasps curdling my blood and melting my bones with every utterance (“I Gave You Wings”). Lisa belts like never before, showcasing a range and power I didn’t realize she possessed (“Cold Heavens”). Not to be outclassed, guitarists Johan Ericson and Niklas Nord shove thunderous riffs against each other and in concert with only the most bleeding-heart lead melodies (“I Welcome Thy Arrow,” “Misanthrope River”), creating a wonderful miasma of textures and tones that swirl with the deadly grace of smoke. Drummer Daniel Johansson and Bassist Daniel Arvidsson form a formidable rhythm section to bolster In Somnolent Ruin with great heft and shrewd patterns. Daniel Johansson in particular impresses with beats and fills that almost refuse to mimic Niklas’ riffs, instead forging his own path weaving in and out of the spaces between guitars and vocals with powerful muscularity. Working as a finely tuned machine, Draconian’s performance on In Somnolent Ruin is a rare coalescence that elevates every crest and crescendo beyond greatness.

That greatness nonetheless extends to songwriting, as In Somnolent Ruin showcases some of Draconian’s coolest pieces in their discography. With no fewer than four contenders for my Songs o’ the Year playlist (“The Monochrome Blade,” “The Face of God,” “I Gave You Wings,” “Cold Heavens”), the impact of these nine songs, both isolated from and integrated with the whole, leaves nothing but dust and rubble at my feet. Emotionally devastating, richly detailed, and imposing in stature, only one word approaches adequacy when intimating my impressions: majestic. Towering arcs that connect poignant storytelling to heartfelt expressiveness personify In Somnolent Ruin’s transition from the riff-laden challenge “I Welcome Thy Arrow” to the bitter death of “Lethe.” As I traverse that arc, marvelous transitions guide my way through twists and gnarls as beautiful in form as they are lethal to the touch. Draconian created something familiar enough to caress and comfort but surprising in its vitality and charisma, such that each fresh spin feels as compelling and impactful as the first.

I’m left astounded, alone in a clearing of brush and fog. So few discographies boast such reliable and recognizable greatness, but even fewer offer late-stage monoliths of this scale. To critique small nitpicks like the relative innocuousness of interlude “Asteria Beneath the Tranquil Sea” or the slightly less impressive “Anima” feels disingenuous—as if to do so is merely to make up for a perceived neglect of my responsibility to evaluation. Yet even accounting for this internal debate, In Somnolent Ruin is a rare triumph. A love letter to Draconian’s storied past and a celebration of their modern era, refined to staggering excellence.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: Buried Under 6 Feet of Bandwidth | Format Reviewed: Misanthrope Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

Draconian is an institution. Since Where Lovers Mourn dropped 23 years ago, the Swedish death doom sextet upheld an unflappable standard of quality across seven records, marking a legendary discography matched by precious few. Everyone has their favorite out of those seven tomes, but it’s fairly uncommon to find a shared preference. This not only speaks to the diversity of Draconian’s sound despite their tried and true template, but also to the reliable nature of their compositions, capable of striking at the heart of anyone who might encounter them. I, just as susceptible to Draconian’s hooded charm, miraculously came into possession of their eighth outing, In Somnolent Ruin, albeit quite late. However, it took no time whatsoever to recognize that it was special.

As if in celebration of their reunion with original siren Lisa Johansson, Draconian amplified both the beautiful and the beastly sides of their trademark sound for In Somnolent Ruin. Heavy as Arcane Rain Fell and A Rose for the Apocalypse (“The Monochrome Blade”) and delicate as Sovran and Under a Godless Veil (“Lethe”), In Somnolent Ruin trudges inexorably through an unknowable pall with desperate fury and earnest sorrow. A dichotomy of intensity and grace embodies this hour-long funereal march, gloom and mist gently grazing the skin as the earth churns underfoot and a clouded sky thunders above. The emotions conjured through Draconian’s gothic spell, deep ripples that oscillate between tension and release in overwhelming concentrations, black out my vision and light up my synapses. This is what Draconian is known for, and what they do so well they’ve rarely done better than on In Somnolent Ruin.

Whereas Draconian routinely succeeds in songwriting across all of their records, In Somnolent Ruin blossoms primarily because of the striking performances it houses. Lisa and Anders Jacobsson shine here, each pouring every fiber of their being into their vocals (“The Monochrome Blade,” “The Face of God,” “Cold Heavens”). Anders sounds particularly venomous, his serrated growls and screaming rasps curdling my blood and melting my bones with every utterance (“I Gave You Wings”). Lisa belts like never before, showcasing a range and power I didn’t realize she possessed (“Cold Heavens”). Not to be outclassed, guitarists Johan Ericson and Niklas Nord shove thunderous riffs against each other and in concert with only the most bleeding-heart lead melodies (“I Welcome Thy Arrow,” “Misanthrope River”), creating a wonderful miasma of textures and tones that swirl with the deadly grace of smoke. Drummer Daniel Johansson and Bassist Daniel Arvidsson form a formidable rhythm section to bolster In Somnolent Ruin with great heft and shrewd patterns. Daniel Johansson in particular impresses with beats and fills that almost refuse to mimic Niklas’ riffs, instead forging his own path weaving in and out of the spaces between guitars and vocals with powerful muscularity. Working as a finely tuned machine, Draconian’s performance on In Somnolent Ruin is a rare coalescence that elevates every crest and crescendo beyond greatness.

That greatness nonetheless extends to songwriting, as In Somnolent Ruin showcases some of Draconian’s coolest pieces in their discography. With no fewer than four contenders for my Songs o’ the Year playlist (“The Monochrome Blade,” “The Face of God,” “I Gave You Wings,” “Cold Heavens”), the impact of these nine songs, both isolated from and integrated with the whole, leaves nothing but dust and rubble at my feet. Emotionally devastating, richly detailed, and imposing in stature, only one word approaches adequacy when intimating my impressions: majestic. Towering arcs that connect poignant storytelling to heartfelt expressiveness personify In Somnolent Ruin’s transition from the riff-laden challenge “I Welcome Thy Arrow” to the bitter death of “Lethe.” As I traverse that arc, marvelous transitions guide my way through twists and gnarls as beautiful in form as they are lethal to the touch. Draconian created something familiar enough to caress and comfort but surprising in its vitality and charisma, such that each fresh spin feels as compelling and impactful as the first.

I’m left astounded, alone in a clearing of brush and fog. So few discographies boast such reliable and recognizable greatness, but even fewer offer late-stage monoliths of this scale. To critique small nitpicks like the relative innocuousness of interlude “Asteria Beneath the Tranquil Sea” or the slightly less impressive “Anima” feels disingenuous—as if to do so is merely to make up for a perceived neglect of my responsibility to evaluation. Yet even accounting for this internal debate, In Somnolent Ruin is a rare triumph. A love letter to Draconian’s storied past and a celebration of their modern era, refined to staggering excellence.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: Buried Under 6 Feet of Bandwidth | Format Reviewed: Misanthrope Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

Conjuring – Memento Mori
#BlackMetal #Metal #atmosphericblackmetal #deathdoom #doom #doommetal #postrock #Amadora
CC BY-NC (#CreativeCommons Attribution Non Commercial) #ccmusic
https://hypnoticdirgerecords.bandcamp.com/album/memento-mori

Seems like the Filtration system is overburdened once again. Normally, my minions have to scavenge much longer to pick things up this early in the year, but 2026 is proving to be rich in moderately precious metallic ore. That just means I gotta push my team even harder to pull greater loads of filth from the ducts!

As I send them in for yet another round, please enjoy the spoils thus far exploited. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Tattered Tome

Overtoun // Death Drive Anthropology [February 13th, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

Chilean progressive death thrash outfit Overtoun is what you get when you mix old school Death and Atheist with the proggier side of Pestilence, then amp the thrash up by a half turn. At a lofty 50 minutes, you’d expect third release Death Drive Anthropology to drag on, but to make that assumption is to criminally underestimate Overtoun’s creativity and versatility. Opening up the throttle in fine form, the one-two punch of “What Unites All (ft. Max Phelps) and “The Final Beat” manages to encompass many of these Chileans’ songwriting and performance skills in a scant 10 minutes. More introspective, nuanced songwriting takes center stage throughout Anthropology’s midsection, balancing smart melodies and minimalist atmosphere with complex guitar layering, proggy structures, and shreddy wizardry (“Dur Khrod,” “Jade, Gold, Obsidian,” “Yurei,” “Weeping”). The three-part “The Waves Suite” suite adds a mystical character to the affair that blends remarkably well with Overtoun’s more overt political messaging and emotional textures, which helps carry the record through its lengthy runtime without causing fatigue. It’s a neat record that’s modestly blemished by a bass presence that begs for more weight and wildness, especially considering the raw talent on hand. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for a creative, thoughtful, and sophisticated entry into the death/thrash progosphere, Death Drive Anthropology makes a strong case.

Andy-War-Hall’s Primordial Pick-Up

The Grand Myth // Of Vultures and Dragons [February 26th, 2026 – Suncrusher Recordings]

I have a grossly limited capacity for seriousness. Yeah, I like my death metal progressive, technical, and thoughtful, much the way Brandon Bordman’s The Grand Myth deliver it on their latest record, Of Vultures and Dragons, but sometimes I just want fun, too. Of Vultures and Dragons, an adaptation of Ethan Pettus’ novel series Primitive War1 in which a rescue team searches a Vietnamese jungle for a missing platoon of Green Berets and fights for their lives against dinosaurs, has fun in spades. Utilizing a many-layered guitar attack (“Symbiotic Death”), shifting and propulsive rhythms (“Through the River Styx”), a wide cast of voice actors for brief narrative bits2 and surprisingly bright tones (“Agony”), The Grand Myth’s approach to progressive death metal isn’t revolutionary, but it’s deeply refreshing and engaging regardless. Though an absolute blast, The Grand Myth doesn’t spew embarrassingly stupid levels of campiness with their sci-fi dinosaur theming like Victorius. Rather, Of Vultures and Dragons can be fairly emotionally effective at times thanks to Bordman’s emotive clean/harsh vocals and elaborate soloing (“Pyre,” “Agony”). Nobody asks about your favorite dinosaur anymore,3 so feed your inner kid with The Grand Myth’s Of Vultures and Dragons now!

Saunders’ Sunken Shards

Puscifer// Normal Isn’t [February 6th, 2026 – Alchemy Recordings]

After losing track of recent offerings, I reacquainted myself with the latest LP from Puscifer, leaving me pleasantly surprised in the aftermath. The project featuring Tool/A Perfect Circle frontman Maynard James Keenan returned for their first hit out since 2020’s Existential Reckoning. Normal Isn’t finds the shape-shifting project embracing its quirky, gothy industrial rock and electronic elements through an angsty filter of guitar-driven arty rock, post-punk, and infectious songcraft. Age should not weary Maynard, as he still sounds angry, cynical, and on point vocally through a mostly engaging, catchy bag of tunes. The dueling vocal melodies with collaborator Carina Round’s ghostly singing work a treat amidst jittery beats, angular riffs and strong electronic overtones. Rhythmically, it is an interesting ride, drummer Gunnar Olsen putting in a top-notch performance, while there is a vaguely progressive edge underlying the hook-centric songwriting. Opener “Thrust” sets the album in motion with sticky hooks, a darkly humorous, unhinged Maynard performance, and a dose of spite. Other key highlights include “Bad Wolf,” “Self Evident,” “A Public Stoning,” and “ImpetuoUs.” Puscifer made a fine return with Normal Isn’t.

Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows // Inexorable Opposites [February 6th, 2026 – Magnetic Eye Records]

You’ve gotta love a sneaky name drop from our trusty commentariat. It has led to many great discoveries over the years. On this occasion, one of our dear commenters enlightened me to Melbourne psych-blues-doomers Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows with fourth LP, Inexorable Opposites. And it didn’t take long absorbing this latest slab of rustic Aussie coolness to be struck by the album’s slow-burning, addictive power, and gritty tones. Boasting an expansive, rugged sound built on layers of distortion and a weighty blend of psych-drenched blues and doom heaviness. Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows features old school, outlaw-driven lyrical content from mastermind and vocalist/guitarist Tim Coutts-Smith, meshing fictional tales of woe and adventure of character Jack Harlon, with relatable real-life struggles. Through the fuzz, thick jammy vibes, and Coutts-Smith distorted, menacing Aussie drawl, catchy songcraft shines through the muck and psych haze. From the tense, stoner-infected grit and catchy hooks of opener “Moss,” through to the stormy outback balladry of closer “To Die,” Inexorable Opposites is a hard-hitting, riffy delight, further evidenced through scorched earth, infectious cuts like “Venomous,” “Seer,” and the trippy, drug-addled “Mt. Macedon.”

Grin Reaper’s Reaped Recluse

Cold Communion // Monuments to Ruin [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Melodic death/doom isn’t a genre I dabble in often, but every now and again, one of its bands thwarts my defenses and wraps their tendrils around my precious listening time. Durham, North Carolina’s Cold Communion is one such band, featuring Barre Gambling (Daylight Dies) on guitar and Tim Rowland (Alchemy of Flesh, Silent Vigil) on everything else. If that sounds like an unfair split, take a spin and reassess, because Gambling’s performance defines Cold Communion’s melancholic character as much as Rowland’s emotive growl. Forgoing any long-form doom epics, Monuments to Ruin’s longest song comes in at five-and-a-half minutes, with the entire album clocking just forty-five. It’s a tidy platter, and both in song composition and mood shares ample common ground with Finnish sadbois Insomnium. Besides Monuments’ superior production, songs like “A Stillness Survival” and “When the Light Breaks” wouldn’t feel out of place on Across the Dark or One for Sorrow. And despite the somber trappings one might expect from doom-adjacency, there’s plenty of lively riffing and solos to find across Monuments to Ruin, adding a touch of boom to the gloom. In the end, Cold Communion doesn’t reinvent the genre or break new ground, but Monuments to Ruin offers a comfy chair by the fireside on a freezing cold day, and I’m perfectly content with that.

Mossgiver // Renewer [February 6th, 2026 – Sij MusicArt]

Atmospheric black metal often contrasts the beautiful with the bestial, typically prioritizing moods over hooks. ‘Twas a delight, then, to unearth Mossgiver’s Renewal, which deftly combines the two. Weaving together hypnotic passages flooded with strings, piano, flute, synths, double bass rolls, and the requisite blackened tremolos,4 Mossgiver’s mastermind Tilen Šimon (Ueldes) delivers the band’s best record to date. Above all, Renewer sounds like a celebration of nature in the vein of Autrest and Cân Bardd, evoking a whispering wind whipping at leaves or sunlight dappling a brook shaded by oaks and maples. Beyond the well-crafted soundtrack for a walk through the woods, Mossgiver etches emotion into the nooks and crannies of Renewer’s five tracks. From rousing string orchestrations (“I Bring the Spring with Me”) to soft-and-heavy tradeoffs pitting clean guitar and pan pipes against distorted guitar and blast beats (“Renewer”), Mossgiver shimmers with a lush backdrop of instrumentation rife with playfulness and pensiveness. The trio of primary songs5 revolve around powerful melodies that evolve over each track’s duration, with assorted instruments coming in and out to push refrains along. Renewer’s brisk thirty-four minutes showcase Mossgiver’s sticky compositions and leave me whistling its melodies for days at a time. Now throw on your hiking boots and get lost in the Moss.

Ossomancer // Banebdjed’s Path [February 28th, 2026 – Esoteric Evocations]

Six-and-a-half years removed from Ossomancer’s debut Artes Magickae, lone wolf and mastermind Kamose returns to tread Banebjed’s Path. Bursting with references to mythology and mysticism, Banebjed’s Path rumbles and shakes with arcane thunder. Although the backdrop and track names might recall the frenzied onslaught of Nile, Ossomancer instead conceives a realm recalling Aeternam, Iotunn, and Naglfar. Despite the scant thirty-four-minute runtime, Banebjed’s Path sprawls across diverse landscapes and textures. Opener “The Ogdoad Arrangement and the Osirian Creation” oscillates between In Flames melodies and a slinky crawl that could pass for a 90s Geddy Lee bass line played over synth injections from Rush’s 80s era. Follow-up track “Sobek – Cosmic Vibrations Devoured” features Kreator-bred riffing, while closing duo “A Sea of Sand, a Silver Star” and “Retraction into Kether” synthesize the ethereal atmospheres of Iotunn with the blackened assault of Naglfar. Through it all, Ossomancer sounds fabulous, as Banebjed’s Path flaunts an enviable DR 8 and a bodacious mix that spotlights its burly bass performance. Ossomancer’s sophomore outing is crammed with meloblack goodies, and though it’s not a long trek, the journey down Banebjed’s Path far transcends its distance.

Tyme’s Danish Dalliance

Ædel Fetich // Ædel Fetich [February 20th, 2026 – Deadbanger Productions]

That blinged-out pink dish-glove-clad hand is what first drew me to Denmark outfit Ædel Fetich’s self-titled debut. Then I clicked play and was taken on one of the more compelling “black” metal rides in recent memory. With roots primarily buried in the soil of the traditional second-wave, Ædel Fetich is rife with moments of rifferous tremolodic speed (“Ridderlig Lider,” “Madras”) and absolutely berserk guitar chaos (“Sort Magi”). There’s a Trhä-like sense of experimentation, and the rawness of the production enhances the oft-changing compositions, which, like weather in the Midwest, often shift on a dime without warning. Luckily, Ædel Fetich’s adept songwriting organically smooths these transitions, which could have easily come off stilted and jarring, but makes drawing direct comparisons to the Ædel Fetich sound difficult, as there’s a spectrum of other influences at play. There are tracks packed with punky punch (“Et Liv Fuld af Fejl,” “Ildtang”) or imbued with folky reverence (“Mit Billede af Dig”) and even some 80s pop—fans of the movie Flashdance shouldn’t have a problem finding the poppy easter egg hiding near the end of “Sort Magi.”6 Far and away the star of the show, however, is singer Skvat, whose performance is filled with as much black metal bravado as it is theatrical exuberance, his arsenal of shrieks, growls, hoots, howls, and operatic baritonations a refreshing treat, akin to if Mike Patton woke up one day deciding to record a Danish black metal album. Bottom line is, I really dig Ædel Fetich and think you will too.

Creeping Ivy’s Ashen Afterthought

Belzebong // The End is High [February 20th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

In my humble opinion, lyrics are key to making stoner metal more than novelty music. If you’re referencing reefer in your album art, band name, and song titles, at least keep the reeferisms out of the songs themselves,7 or better yet, avoid vocals altogether. Taking this latter advice to heart is instrumental Polish four-piece Belzebong, who have been at it for almost 20 years now. On The End is High, their fourth full-length, Belzebong deal 35 minutes of fuzzed-out riffery described as “a new sermon for the final days.” While not as highbrow (huh huh) as the instrumental stoner metal of Bongripper, Belzebong are similarly ominous on opener (yes) “Bong & Chain,” which caps its ten-minute burn with creepy, haunting synths. From there, the band settle into material more akin to Bongzilla; sound clips adorn the chill grooves of “420 Horsemen,” “Hempnotized,” and “Reefer Mortis,” which closes things out with some solid Electric Wizard worship. If you instinctively (and understandably) recoil from music with marijuana aesthetics but dig the meditative repetition offered by stoner metal, consider sampling The End is High. It’s not exactly the caricature it advertises itself as.

Baguette’s Bygone Bounty

Sundecay // The Blood Lives Again [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Toronto’s Sundecay has been around for a while. These Canadian doomers spawned sometime prior to 2014, quietly releasing EP material every once in a blue moon. The Blood Lives Again is their first full-length release—their first signs of life since 2018 in general—and the time and care they took to develop their sound and songwriting prowess pays off here in spades. The doom and proto-doom inspirations from Black Sabbath to Saint Vitus are obvious (“Here Comes the Wizard”), complemented by other influences from proto-metal, psychedelic, and progressive music (“Silence Spoken”). The hefty, layered guitars have a nice fuzz without fully landing in stoner territory. Ambitious long-form tracks like “Will Dusk Defy Dawn” flow like water while carrying significant emotional heft. Lastly, a moody, reverb-heavy vocal performance crowns the classic doom trance the band is aiming for. At five tracks and some 43 minutes, The Blood Lives Again is a total vibe and flies by before you’ve even noticed. Fans of the ’70s should take notes!

Temple Balls // Temple Balls [February 13th, 2026 – Frontiers Music]

One of the most authentic ways you can honor rock music tradition is via questionable naming conventions. On an unrelated note, Temple Balls is a Finnish hard rock/glam rock band, and they’re fun as hell! They’re not particularly new around the block, either: the group formed in 2009, and self-titled Temple Balls is already their fifth album since debut Traded Dreams in 2017. 2023’s Avalanche felt like a watershed moment, a welcome surprise that brought some new life and energy to a fairly dated genre of Europeisms and Hanoi Rocks rehashes. Temple Balls proves that Avalanche wasn’t a one-off, continuing their extremely authentic throwback approach. The heavy/power-metal-meets-AOR direction of songwriting (“Flashback Dynamite,” “Soul Survivor”) gives it that extra guitar oomph and energy that melodic music like this requires to be anywhere near competitive. With great all-out vocals from Arde Teronen and gigantic hooks to match, it’s just a damn good time front to back. Though it will sadly be the last time we’ll hear Niko Vuorela’s guitar work on record (R.I.P., and fuck cancer), the self-titled is certainly a worthy final milestone for him—and hopefully, another beginning for his comrades.

ClarkKent’s Enchanting Earworm

Hela // A Reign to Conquer [February 27, 2026 – Ardua Music]

Just as it put a pause on many plans and projects, the COVID pandemic slowed down the output of Spain’s Hela. A Reign to Conquer marks their first record since 2019’s Vegvìsir, which was their third release since 2013. This brief hiatus brought new blood in the form of vocalist Raquel Navarro, though, in truth, the only consistency in Hela’s lineup is the other three members—Tano Giménez on bass, Miguel Fernández (The Holeum) on drums, and Julián Velasco (The Holeum) on guitars. They have a deep bond, first forged in 2009 with The Sand Collector before forming Hela just three years later. Though they brand Hela as melodic doom, and the band does have a little in common with Katatonia, I think it’s more accurate to describe them as dreamy progressive rock. Navarro is a major reason for this, with dreamy croons that guide listeners through breezy soundscapes. She bears a passing resemblance to Maud the Moth, though the music Hela plays is decidedly more metal than our Dolphin friend’s favorite nocturnal insect. Guitarist Velasco plays a hypnotizing mix of atmospheric fuzz, crushing doom, and melodic riffs that add some heft and crunch to the ethereal sound. A Reign to Conquer has plenty of layers to probe, rewarding listeners who bear with it for repeat listens. While my initial spins left me wanting, I’ve since become spellbound. Add to that some gorgeous artwork, and this is a nice addition to anyone’s vinyl collection. Hela yeah!

Spicie Forrest’s Vicious Vittles

A Wilhelm Scream8 // Cheap Heat [February 27th, 2026 – Creator-Destructor Records]

A Wilhelm Scream9 returns after a four-year hiatus with their eighth long player, Cheap Heat. Sounding like the best combination of The Story So Far and Rise Against, A Wilhelm Scream delivers an impressive tour de force so late in their career. Vocalist Nuno Pereira10 is the highlight of Cheap Heat, driving the album with urgency and passion (“Somebody’s Gonna Die,” “Fell Off”), but no one here is a slouch. The rhythm section—bassist Brian J. Robinson, rhythm guitarist Trevor Reilly, and drummer Nicholas Pasquale Angelini—gleefully tosses gas on Pereira’s bonfire (“I Got Tunnel Vision”) and delivers solid grooves (“Poison II”) and searing ragers (“Unsolving the Mystery”) that keep the energy cranked to 11 all through Cheap Heat. Hooks are by far the most common lead duty, and Ben Murray puts on a fucking clinic. Each note that rings out from his axe sounds like it fucking owns the place (“Run,” “Visitor: Unimpressed”). Cheap Heat is a smidge front-loaded with “Midnight Ghost” and “I Got Tunnel Vision” being album highlights, but no song on here is anything short of a barn burner. At a super tight 28 minutes, Cheap Heat hits hard and fast and gets the fuck out of Dodge before you’re even sure what hit you. I didn’t expect a 26-year-old hardcore outfit to knock my teeth out when I queued it up on a whim one morning, but Cheap Heat is proving to be one of my favorite albums of the year.

Lead Injector // Witching Attack [February 20th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Who doesn’t like the combination of thrash’s unchained aggression and black metal’s cold hate? There’s never been a better pair. Lead Injector hit the ground running on debut LP Witching Attack. From the opening moments of “Siege Upon Heaven” to the closing moments of “Nuclear Antichrist,” Lead Injector is here to do two things: feed high-speed buckshot to God, skeletons, and anything else that gets in their way, and have a Hellripping good time. “Angel Destructor” and “Siege Upon Heaven” barrel pell-mell through searing riffs and blast beats, while groovier tracks like “Evil Executioner” and “Nuclear Antichrist” let black metal’s punk ancestry shine through. Heavy metal influences a la Judas Priest can be found injected into tracks like “Sacrifice This Bitch” and “M.C.C.I.” While nothing about Lead Injector’s sound is particularly new, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing. This debut is a unique and retro spin on a tried-and-true formula that bodes well for a young band. Witching Attack is a killer time that Ash Williams would gladly spin while boomsticking Deadites alongside Lord Arthur’s army.

Seems like the Filtration system is overburdened once again. Normally, my minions have to scavenge much longer to pick things up this early in the year, but 2026 is proving to be rich in moderately precious metallic ore. That just means I gotta push my team even harder to pull greater loads of filth from the ducts!

As I send them in for yet another round, please enjoy the spoils thus far exploited. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Tattered Tome

Overtoun // Death Drive Anthropology [February 13th, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

Chilean progressive death thrash outfit Overtoun is what you get when you mix old school Death and Atheist with the proggier side of Pestilence, then amp the thrash up by a half turn. At a lofty 50 minutes, you’d expect third release Death Drive Anthropology to drag on, but to make that assumption is to criminally underestimate Overtoun’s creativity and versatility. Opening up the throttle in fine form, the one-two punch of “What Unites All (ft. Max Phelps) and “The Final Beat” manages to encompass many of these Chileans’ songwriting and performance skills in a scant 10 minutes. More introspective, nuanced songwriting takes center stage throughout Anthropology’s midsection, balancing smart melodies and minimalist atmosphere with complex guitar layering, proggy structures, and shreddy wizardry (“Dur Khrod,” “Jade, Gold, Obsidian,” “Yurei,” “Weeping”). The three-part “The Waves Suite” suite adds a mystical character to the affair that blends remarkably well with Overtoun’s more overt political messaging and emotional textures, which helps carry the record through its lengthy runtime without causing fatigue. It’s a neat record that’s modestly blemished by a bass presence that begs for more weight and wildness, especially considering the raw talent on hand. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for a creative, thoughtful, and sophisticated entry into the death/thrash progosphere, Death Drive Anthropology makes a strong case.

Andy-War-Hall’s Primordial Pick-Up

The Grand Myth // Of Vultures and Dragons [February 26th, 2026 – Suncrusher Recordings]

I have a grossly limited capacity for seriousness. Yeah, I like my death metal progressive, technical, and thoughtful, much the way Brandon Bordman’s The Grand Myth deliver it on their latest record, Of Vultures and Dragons, but sometimes I just want fun, too. Of Vultures and Dragons, an adaptation of Ethan Pettus’ novel series Primitive War1 in which a rescue team searches a Vietnamese jungle for a missing platoon of Green Berets and fights for their lives against dinosaurs, has fun in spades. Utilizing a many-layered guitar attack (“Symbiotic Death”), shifting and propulsive rhythms (“Through the River Styx”), a wide cast of voice actors for brief narrative bits2 and surprisingly bright tones (“Agony”), The Grand Myth’s approach to progressive death metal isn’t revolutionary, but it’s deeply refreshing and engaging regardless. Though an absolute blast, The Grand Myth doesn’t spew embarrassingly stupid levels of campiness with their sci-fi dinosaur theming like Victorius. Rather, Of Vultures and Dragons can be fairly emotionally effective at times thanks to Bordman’s emotive clean/harsh vocals and elaborate soloing (“Pyre,” “Agony”). Nobody asks about your favorite dinosaur anymore,3 so feed your inner kid with The Grand Myth’s Of Vultures and Dragons now!

Saunders’ Sunken Shards

Puscifer// Normal Isn’t [February 6th, 2026 – Alchemy Recordings]

After losing track of recent offerings, I reacquainted myself with the latest LP from Puscifer, leaving me pleasantly surprised in the aftermath. The project featuring Tool/A Perfect Circle frontman Maynard James Keenan returned for their first hit out since 2020’s Existential Reckoning. Normal Isn’t finds the shape-shifting project embracing its quirky, gothy industrial rock and electronic elements through an angsty filter of guitar-driven arty rock, post-punk, and infectious songcraft. Age should not weary Maynard, as he still sounds angry, cynical, and on point vocally through a mostly engaging, catchy bag of tunes. The dueling vocal melodies with collaborator Carina Round’s ghostly singing work a treat amidst jittery beats, angular riffs and strong electronic overtones. Rhythmically, it is an interesting ride, drummer Gunnar Olsen putting in a top-notch performance, while there is a vaguely progressive edge underlying the hook-centric songwriting. Opener “Thrust” sets the album in motion with sticky hooks, a darkly humorous, unhinged Maynard performance, and a dose of spite. Other key highlights include “Bad Wolf,” “Self Evident,” “A Public Stoning,” and “ImpetuoUs.” Puscifer made a fine return with Normal Isn’t.

Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows // Inexorable Opposites [February 6th, 2026 – Magnetic Eye Records]

You’ve gotta love a sneaky name drop from our trusty commentariat. It has led to many great discoveries over the years. On this occasion, one of our dear commenters enlightened me to Melbourne psych-blues-doomers Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows with fourth LP, Inexorable Opposites. And it didn’t take long absorbing this latest slab of rustic Aussie coolness to be struck by the album’s slow-burning, addictive power, and gritty tones. Boasting an expansive, rugged sound built on layers of distortion and a weighty blend of psych-drenched blues and doom heaviness. Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows features old school, outlaw-driven lyrical content from mastermind and vocalist/guitarist Tim Coutts-Smith, meshing fictional tales of woe and adventure of character Jack Harlon, with relatable real-life struggles. Through the fuzz, thick jammy vibes, and Coutts-Smith distorted, menacing Aussie drawl, catchy songcraft shines through the muck and psych haze. From the tense, stoner-infected grit and catchy hooks of opener “Moss,” through to the stormy outback balladry of closer “To Die,” Inexorable Opposites is a hard-hitting, riffy delight, further evidenced through scorched earth, infectious cuts like “Venomous,” “Seer,” and the trippy, drug-addled “Mt. Macedon.”

Grin Reaper’s Reaped Recluse

Cold Communion // Monuments to Ruin [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Melodic death/doom isn’t a genre I dabble in often, but every now and again, one of its bands thwarts my defenses and wraps their tendrils around my precious listening time. Durham, North Carolina’s Cold Communion is one such band, featuring Barre Gambling (Daylight Dies) on guitar and Tim Rowland (Alchemy of Flesh, Silent Vigil) on everything else. If that sounds like an unfair split, take a spin and reassess, because Gambling’s performance defines Cold Communion’s melancholic character as much as Rowland’s emotive growl. Forgoing any long-form doom epics, Monuments to Ruin’s longest song comes in at five-and-a-half minutes, with the entire album clocking just forty-five. It’s a tidy platter, and both in song composition and mood shares ample common ground with Finnish sadbois Insomnium. Besides Monuments’ superior production, songs like “A Stillness Survival” and “When the Light Breaks” wouldn’t feel out of place on Across the Dark or One for Sorrow. And despite the somber trappings one might expect from doom-adjacency, there’s plenty of lively riffing and solos to find across Monuments to Ruin, adding a touch of boom to the gloom. In the end, Cold Communion doesn’t reinvent the genre or break new ground, but Monuments to Ruin offers a comfy chair by the fireside on a freezing cold day, and I’m perfectly content with that.

Mossgiver // Renewer [February 6th, 2026 – Sij MusicArt]

Atmospheric black metal often contrasts the beautiful with the bestial, typically prioritizing moods over hooks. ‘Twas a delight, then, to unearth Mossgiver’s Renewal, which deftly combines the two. Weaving together hypnotic passages flooded with strings, piano, flute, synths, double bass rolls, and the requisite blackened tremolos,4 Mossgiver’s mastermind Tilen Šimon (Ueldes) delivers the band’s best record to date. Above all, Renewer sounds like a celebration of nature in the vein of Autrest and Cân Bardd, evoking a whispering wind whipping at leaves or sunlight dappling a brook shaded by oaks and maples. Beyond the well-crafted soundtrack for a walk through the woods, Mossgiver etches emotion into the nooks and crannies of Renewer’s five tracks. From rousing string orchestrations (“I Bring the Spring with Me”) to soft-and-heavy tradeoffs pitting clean guitar and pan pipes against distorted guitar and blast beats (“Renewer”), Mossgiver shimmers with a lush backdrop of instrumentation rife with playfulness and pensiveness. The trio of primary songs5 revolve around powerful melodies that evolve over each track’s duration, with assorted instruments coming in and out to push refrains along. Renewer’s brisk thirty-four minutes showcase Mossgiver’s sticky compositions and leave me whistling its melodies for days at a time. Now throw on your hiking boots and get lost in the Moss.

Ossomancer // Banebdjed’s Path [February 28th, 2026 – Esoteric Evocations]

Six-and-a-half years removed from Ossomancer’s debut Artes Magickae, lone wolf and mastermind Kamose returns to tread Banebjed’s Path. Bursting with references to mythology and mysticism, Banebjed’s Path rumbles and shakes with arcane thunder. Although the backdrop and track names might recall the frenzied onslaught of Nile, Ossomancer instead conceives a realm recalling Aeternam, Iotunn, and Naglfar. Despite the scant thirty-four-minute runtime, Banebjed’s Path sprawls across diverse landscapes and textures. Opener “The Ogdoad Arrangement and the Osirian Creation” oscillates between In Flames melodies and a slinky crawl that could pass for a 90s Geddy Lee bass line played over synth injections from Rush’s 80s era. Follow-up track “Sobek – Cosmic Vibrations Devoured” features Kreator-bred riffing, while closing duo “A Sea of Sand, a Silver Star” and “Retraction into Kether” synthesize the ethereal atmospheres of Iotunn with the blackened assault of Naglfar. Through it all, Ossomancer sounds fabulous, as Banebjed’s Path flaunts an enviable DR 8 and a bodacious mix that spotlights its burly bass performance. Ossomancer’s sophomore outing is crammed with meloblack goodies, and though it’s not a long trek, the journey down Banebjed’s Path far transcends its distance.

Tyme’s Danish Dalliance

Ædel Fetich // Ædel Fetich [February 20th, 2026 – Deadbanger Productions]

That blinged-out pink dish-glove-clad hand is what first drew me to Denmark outfit Ædel Fetich’s self-titled debut. Then I clicked play and was taken on one of the more compelling “black” metal rides in recent memory. With roots primarily buried in the soil of the traditional second-wave, Ædel Fetich is rife with moments of rifferous tremolodic speed (“Ridderlig Lider,” “Madras”) and absolutely berserk guitar chaos (“Sort Magi”). There’s a Trhä-like sense of experimentation, and the rawness of the production enhances the oft-changing compositions, which, like weather in the Midwest, often shift on a dime without warning. Luckily, Ædel Fetich’s adept songwriting organically smooths these transitions, which could have easily come off stilted and jarring, but makes drawing direct comparisons to the Ædel Fetich sound difficult, as there’s a spectrum of other influences at play. There are tracks packed with punky punch (“Et Liv Fuld af Fejl,” “Ildtang”) or imbued with folky reverence (“Mit Billede af Dig”) and even some 80s pop—fans of the movie Flashdance shouldn’t have a problem finding the poppy easter egg hiding near the end of “Sort Magi.”6 Far and away the star of the show, however, is singer Skvat, whose performance is filled with as much black metal bravado as it is theatrical exuberance, his arsenal of shrieks, growls, hoots, howls, and operatic baritonations a refreshing treat, akin to if Mike Patton woke up one day deciding to record a Danish black metal album. Bottom line is, I really dig Ædel Fetich and think you will too.

Creeping Ivy’s Ashen Afterthought

Belzebong // The End is High [February 20th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

In my humble opinion, lyrics are key to making stoner metal more than novelty music. If you’re referencing reefer in your album art, band name, and song titles, at least keep the reeferisms out of the songs themselves,7 or better yet, avoid vocals altogether. Taking this latter advice to heart is instrumental Polish four-piece Belzebong, who have been at it for almost 20 years now. On The End is High, their fourth full-length, Belzebong deal 35 minutes of fuzzed-out riffery described as “a new sermon for the final days.” While not as highbrow (huh huh) as the instrumental stoner metal of Bongripper, Belzebong are similarly ominous on opener (yes) “Bong & Chain,” which caps its ten-minute burn with creepy, haunting synths. From there, the band settle into material more akin to Bongzilla; sound clips adorn the chill grooves of “420 Horsemen,” “Hempnotized,” and “Reefer Mortis,” which closes things out with some solid Electric Wizard worship. If you instinctively (and understandably) recoil from music with marijuana aesthetics but dig the meditative repetition offered by stoner metal, consider sampling The End is High. It’s not exactly the caricature it advertises itself as.

Baguette’s Bygone Bounty

Sundecay // The Blood Lives Again [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Toronto’s Sundecay has been around for a while. These Canadian doomers spawned sometime prior to 2014, quietly releasing EP material every once in a blue moon. The Blood Lives Again is their first full-length release—their first signs of life since 2018 in general—and the time and care they took to develop their sound and songwriting prowess pays off here in spades. The doom and proto-doom inspirations from Black Sabbath to Saint Vitus are obvious (“Here Comes the Wizard”), complemented by other influences from proto-metal, psychedelic, and progressive music (“Silence Spoken”). The hefty, layered guitars have a nice fuzz without fully landing in stoner territory. Ambitious long-form tracks like “Will Dusk Defy Dawn” flow like water while carrying significant emotional heft. Lastly, a moody, reverb-heavy vocal performance crowns the classic doom trance the band is aiming for. At five tracks and some 43 minutes, The Blood Lives Again is a total vibe and flies by before you’ve even noticed. Fans of the ’70s should take notes!

Temple Balls // Temple Balls [February 13th, 2026 – Frontiers Music]

One of the most authentic ways you can honor rock music tradition is via questionable naming conventions. On an unrelated note, Temple Balls is a Finnish hard rock/glam rock band, and they’re fun as hell! They’re not particularly new around the block, either: the group formed in 2009, and self-titled Temple Balls is already their fifth album since debut Traded Dreams in 2017. 2023’s Avalanche felt like a watershed moment, a welcome surprise that brought some new life and energy to a fairly dated genre of Europeisms and Hanoi Rocks rehashes. Temple Balls proves that Avalanche wasn’t a one-off, continuing their extremely authentic throwback approach. The heavy/power-metal-meets-AOR direction of songwriting (“Flashback Dynamite,” “Soul Survivor”) gives it that extra guitar oomph and energy that melodic music like this requires to be anywhere near competitive. With great all-out vocals from Arde Teronen and gigantic hooks to match, it’s just a damn good time front to back. Though it will sadly be the last time we’ll hear Niko Vuorela’s guitar work on record (R.I.P., and fuck cancer), the self-titled is certainly a worthy final milestone for him—and hopefully, another beginning for his comrades.

ClarkKent’s Enchanting Earworm

Hela // A Reign to Conquer [February 27, 2026 – Ardua Music]

Just as it put a pause on many plans and projects, the COVID pandemic slowed down the output of Spain’s Hela. A Reign to Conquer marks their first record since 2019’s Vegvìsir, which was their third release since 2013. This brief hiatus brought new blood in the form of vocalist Raquel Navarro, though, in truth, the only consistency in Hela’s lineup is the other three members—Tano Giménez on bass, Miguel Fernández (The Holeum) on drums, and Julián Velasco (The Holeum) on guitars. They have a deep bond, first forged in 2009 with The Sand Collector before forming Hela just three years later. Though they brand Hela as melodic doom, and the band does have a little in common with Katatonia, I think it’s more accurate to describe them as dreamy progressive rock. Navarro is a major reason for this, with dreamy croons that guide listeners through breezy soundscapes. She bears a passing resemblance to Maud the Moth, though the music Hela plays is decidedly more metal than our Dolphin friend’s favorite nocturnal insect. Guitarist Velasco plays a hypnotizing mix of atmospheric fuzz, crushing doom, and melodic riffs that add some heft and crunch to the ethereal sound. A Reign to Conquer has plenty of layers to probe, rewarding listeners who bear with it for repeat listens. While my initial spins left me wanting, I’ve since become spellbound. Add to that some gorgeous artwork, and this is a nice addition to anyone’s vinyl collection. Hela yeah!

Spicie Forrest’s Vicious Vittles

A Wilhelm Scream8 // Cheap Heat [February 27th, 2026 – Creator-Destructor Records]

A Wilhelm Scream9 returns after a four-year hiatus with their eighth long player, Cheap Heat. Sounding like the best combination of The Story So Far and Rise Against, A Wilhelm Scream delivers an impressive tour de force so late in their career. Vocalist Nuno Pereira10 is the highlight of Cheap Heat, driving the album with urgency and passion (“Somebody’s Gonna Die,” “Fell Off”), but no one here is a slouch. The rhythm section—bassist Brian J. Robinson, rhythm guitarist Trevor Reilly, and drummer Nicholas Pasquale Angelini—gleefully tosses gas on Pereira’s bonfire (“I Got Tunnel Vision”) and delivers solid grooves (“Poison II”) and searing ragers (“Unsolving the Mystery”) that keep the energy cranked to 11 all through Cheap Heat. Hooks are by far the most common lead duty, and Ben Murray puts on a fucking clinic. Each note that rings out from his axe sounds like it fucking owns the place (“Run,” “Visitor: Unimpressed”). Cheap Heat is a smidge front-loaded with “Midnight Ghost” and “I Got Tunnel Vision” being album highlights, but no song on here is anything short of a barn burner. At a super tight 28 minutes, Cheap Heat hits hard and fast and gets the fuck out of Dodge before you’re even sure what hit you. I didn’t expect a 26-year-old hardcore outfit to knock my teeth out when I queued it up on a whim one morning, but Cheap Heat is proving to be one of my favorite albums of the year.

Lead Injector // Witching Attack [February 20th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Who doesn’t like the combination of thrash’s unchained aggression and black metal’s cold hate? There’s never been a better pair. Lead Injector hit the ground running on debut LP Witching Attack. From the opening moments of “Siege Upon Heaven” to the closing moments of “Nuclear Antichrist,” Lead Injector is here to do two things: feed high-speed buckshot to God, skeletons, and anything else that gets in their way, and have a Hellripping good time. “Angel Destructor” and “Siege Upon Heaven” barrel pell-mell through searing riffs and blast beats, while groovier tracks like “Evil Executioner” and “Nuclear Antichrist” let black metal’s punk ancestry shine through. Heavy metal influences a la Judas Priest can be found injected into tracks like “Sacrifice This Bitch” and “M.C.C.I.” While nothing about Lead Injector’s sound is particularly new, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing. This debut is a unique and retro spin on a tried-and-true formula that bodes well for a young band. Witching Attack is a killer time that Ash Williams would gladly spin while boomsticking Deadites alongside Lord Arthur’s army.

Seems like the Filtration system is overburdened once again. Normally, my minions have to scavenge much longer to pick things up this early in the year, but 2026 is proving to be rich in moderately precious metallic ore. That just means I gotta push my team even harder to pull greater loads of filth from the ducts!

As I send them in for yet another round, please enjoy the spoils thus far exploited. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Tattered Tome

Overtoun // Death Drive Anthropology [February 13th, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

Chilean progressive death thrash outfit Overtoun is what you get when you mix old school Death and Atheist with the proggier side of Pestilence, then amp the thrash up by a half turn. At a lofty 50 minutes, you’d expect third release Death Drive Anthropology to drag on, but to make that assumption is to criminally underestimate Overtoun’s creativity and versatility. Opening up the throttle in fine form, the one-two punch of “What Unites All (ft. Max Phelps) and “The Final Beat” manages to encompass many of these Chileans’ songwriting and performance skills in a scant 10 minutes. More introspective, nuanced songwriting takes center stage throughout Anthropology’s midsection, balancing smart melodies and minimalist atmosphere with complex guitar layering, proggy structures, and shreddy wizardry (“Dur Khrod,” “Jade, Gold, Obsidian,” “Yurei,” “Weeping”). The three-part “The Waves Suite” suite adds a mystical character to the affair that blends remarkably well with Overtoun’s more overt political messaging and emotional textures, which helps carry the record through its lengthy runtime without causing fatigue. It’s a neat record that’s modestly blemished by a bass presence that begs for more weight and wildness, especially considering the raw talent on hand. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for a creative, thoughtful, and sophisticated entry into the death/thrash progosphere, Death Drive Anthropology makes a strong case.

Andy-War-Hall’s Primordial Pick-Up

The Grand Myth // Of Vultures and Dragons [February 26th, 2026 – Suncrusher Recordings]

I have a grossly limited capacity for seriousness. Yeah, I like my death metal progressive, technical, and thoughtful, much the way Brandon Bordman’s The Grand Myth deliver it on their latest record, Of Vultures and Dragons, but sometimes I just want fun, too. Of Vultures and Dragons, an adaptation of Ethan Pettus’ novel series Primitive War1 in which a rescue team searches a Vietnamese jungle for a missing platoon of Green Berets and fights for their lives against dinosaurs, has fun in spades. Utilizing a many-layered guitar attack (“Symbiotic Death”), shifting and propulsive rhythms (“Through the River Styx”), a wide cast of voice actors for brief narrative bits2 and surprisingly bright tones (“Agony”), The Grand Myth’s approach to progressive death metal isn’t revolutionary, but it’s deeply refreshing and engaging regardless. Though an absolute blast, The Grand Myth doesn’t spew embarrassingly stupid levels of campiness with their sci-fi dinosaur theming like Victorius. Rather, Of Vultures and Dragons can be fairly emotionally effective at times thanks to Bordman’s emotive clean/harsh vocals and elaborate soloing (“Pyre,” “Agony”). Nobody asks about your favorite dinosaur anymore,3 so feed your inner kid with The Grand Myth’s Of Vultures and Dragons now!

Saunders’ Sunken Shards

Puscifer// Normal Isn’t [February 6th, 2026 – Alchemy Recordings]

After losing track of recent offerings, I reacquainted myself with the latest LP from Puscifer, leaving me pleasantly surprised in the aftermath. The project featuring Tool/A Perfect Circle frontman Maynard James Keenan returned for their first hit out since 2020’s Existential Reckoning. Normal Isn’t finds the shape-shifting project embracing its quirky, gothy industrial rock and electronic elements through an angsty filter of guitar-driven arty rock, post-punk, and infectious songcraft. Age should not weary Maynard, as he still sounds angry, cynical, and on point vocally through a mostly engaging, catchy bag of tunes. The dueling vocal melodies with collaborator Carina Round’s ghostly singing work a treat amidst jittery beats, angular riffs and strong electronic overtones. Rhythmically, it is an interesting ride, drummer Gunnar Olsen putting in a top-notch performance, while there is a vaguely progressive edge underlying the hook-centric songwriting. Opener “Thrust” sets the album in motion with sticky hooks, a darkly humorous, unhinged Maynard performance, and a dose of spite. Other key highlights include “Bad Wolf,” “Self Evident,” “A Public Stoning,” and “ImpetuoUs.” Puscifer made a fine return with Normal Isn’t.

Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows // Inexorable Opposites [February 6th, 2026 – Magnetic Eye Records]

You’ve gotta love a sneaky name drop from our trusty commentariat. It has led to many great discoveries over the years. On this occasion, one of our dear commenters enlightened me to Melbourne psych-blues-doomers Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows with fourth LP, Inexorable Opposites. And it didn’t take long absorbing this latest slab of rustic Aussie coolness to be struck by the album’s slow-burning, addictive power, and gritty tones. Boasting an expansive, rugged sound built on layers of distortion and a weighty blend of psych-drenched blues and doom heaviness. Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows features old school, outlaw-driven lyrical content from mastermind and vocalist/guitarist Tim Coutts-Smith, meshing fictional tales of woe and adventure of character Jack Harlon, with relatable real-life struggles. Through the fuzz, thick jammy vibes, and Coutts-Smith distorted, menacing Aussie drawl, catchy songcraft shines through the muck and psych haze. From the tense, stoner-infected grit and catchy hooks of opener “Moss,” through to the stormy outback balladry of closer “To Die,” Inexorable Opposites is a hard-hitting, riffy delight, further evidenced through scorched earth, infectious cuts like “Venomous,” “Seer,” and the trippy, drug-addled “Mt. Macedon.”

Grin Reaper’s Reaped Recluse

Cold Communion // Monuments to Ruin [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Melodic death/doom isn’t a genre I dabble in often, but every now and again, one of its bands thwarts my defenses and wraps their tendrils around my precious listening time. Durham, North Carolina’s Cold Communion is one such band, featuring Barre Gambling (Daylight Dies) on guitar and Tim Rowland (Alchemy of Flesh, Silent Vigil) on everything else. If that sounds like an unfair split, take a spin and reassess, because Gambling’s performance defines Cold Communion’s melancholic character as much as Rowland’s emotive growl. Forgoing any long-form doom epics, Monuments to Ruin’s longest song comes in at five-and-a-half minutes, with the entire album clocking just forty-five. It’s a tidy platter, and both in song composition and mood shares ample common ground with Finnish sadbois Insomnium. Besides Monuments’ superior production, songs like “A Stillness Survival” and “When the Light Breaks” wouldn’t feel out of place on Across the Dark or One for Sorrow. And despite the somber trappings one might expect from doom-adjacency, there’s plenty of lively riffing and solos to find across Monuments to Ruin, adding a touch of boom to the gloom. In the end, Cold Communion doesn’t reinvent the genre or break new ground, but Monuments to Ruin offers a comfy chair by the fireside on a freezing cold day, and I’m perfectly content with that.

Mossgiver // Renewer [February 6th, 2026 – Sij MusicArt]

Atmospheric black metal often contrasts the beautiful with the bestial, typically prioritizing moods over hooks. ‘Twas a delight, then, to unearth Mossgiver’s Renewal, which deftly combines the two. Weaving together hypnotic passages flooded with strings, piano, flute, synths, double bass rolls, and the requisite blackened tremolos,4 Mossgiver’s mastermind Tilen Šimon (Ueldes) delivers the band’s best record to date. Above all, Renewer sounds like a celebration of nature in the vein of Autrest and Cân Bardd, evoking a whispering wind whipping at leaves or sunlight dappling a brook shaded by oaks and maples. Beyond the well-crafted soundtrack for a walk through the woods, Mossgiver etches emotion into the nooks and crannies of Renewer’s five tracks. From rousing string orchestrations (“I Bring the Spring with Me”) to soft-and-heavy tradeoffs pitting clean guitar and pan pipes against distorted guitar and blast beats (“Renewer”), Mossgiver shimmers with a lush backdrop of instrumentation rife with playfulness and pensiveness. The trio of primary songs5 revolve around powerful melodies that evolve over each track’s duration, with assorted instruments coming in and out to push refrains along. Renewer’s brisk thirty-four minutes showcase Mossgiver’s sticky compositions and leave me whistling its melodies for days at a time. Now throw on your hiking boots and get lost in the Moss.

Ossomancer // Banebdjed’s Path [February 28th, 2026 – Esoteric Evocations]

Six-and-a-half years removed from Ossomancer’s debut Artes Magickae, lone wolf and mastermind Kamose returns to tread Banebjed’s Path. Bursting with references to mythology and mysticism, Banebjed’s Path rumbles and shakes with arcane thunder. Although the backdrop and track names might recall the frenzied onslaught of Nile, Ossomancer instead conceives a realm recalling Aeternam, Iotunn, and Naglfar. Despite the scant thirty-four-minute runtime, Banebjed’s Path sprawls across diverse landscapes and textures. Opener “The Ogdoad Arrangement and the Osirian Creation” oscillates between In Flames melodies and a slinky crawl that could pass for a 90s Geddy Lee bass line played over synth injections from Rush’s 80s era. Follow-up track “Sobek – Cosmic Vibrations Devoured” features Kreator-bred riffing, while closing duo “A Sea of Sand, a Silver Star” and “Retraction into Kether” synthesize the ethereal atmospheres of Iotunn with the blackened assault of Naglfar. Through it all, Ossomancer sounds fabulous, as Banebjed’s Path flaunts an enviable DR 8 and a bodacious mix that spotlights its burly bass performance. Ossomancer’s sophomore outing is crammed with meloblack goodies, and though it’s not a long trek, the journey down Banebjed’s Path far transcends its distance.

Tyme’s Danish Dalliance

Ædel Fetich // Ædel Fetich [February 20th, 2026 – Deadbanger Productions]

That blinged-out pink dish-glove-clad hand is what first drew me to Denmark outfit Ædel Fetich’s self-titled debut. Then I clicked play and was taken on one of the more compelling “black” metal rides in recent memory. With roots primarily buried in the soil of the traditional second-wave, Ædel Fetich is rife with moments of rifferous tremolodic speed (“Ridderlig Lider,” “Madras”) and absolutely berserk guitar chaos (“Sort Magi”). There’s a Trhä-like sense of experimentation, and the rawness of the production enhances the oft-changing compositions, which, like weather in the Midwest, often shift on a dime without warning. Luckily, Ædel Fetich’s adept songwriting organically smooths these transitions, which could have easily come off stilted and jarring, but makes drawing direct comparisons to the Ædel Fetich sound difficult, as there’s a spectrum of other influences at play. There are tracks packed with punky punch (“Et Liv Fuld af Fejl,” “Ildtang”) or imbued with folky reverence (“Mit Billede af Dig”) and even some 80s pop—fans of the movie Flashdance shouldn’t have a problem finding the poppy easter egg hiding near the end of “Sort Magi.”6 Far and away the star of the show, however, is singer Skvat, whose performance is filled with as much black metal bravado as it is theatrical exuberance, his arsenal of shrieks, growls, hoots, howls, and operatic baritonations a refreshing treat, akin to if Mike Patton woke up one day deciding to record a Danish black metal album. Bottom line is, I really dig Ædel Fetich and think you will too.

Creeping Ivy’s Ashen Afterthought

Belzebong // The End is High [February 20th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

In my humble opinion, lyrics are key to making stoner metal more than novelty music. If you’re referencing reefer in your album art, band name, and song titles, at least keep the reeferisms out of the songs themselves,7 or better yet, avoid vocals altogether. Taking this latter advice to heart is instrumental Polish four-piece Belzebong, who have been at it for almost 20 years now. On The End is High, their fourth full-length, Belzebong deal 35 minutes of fuzzed-out riffery described as “a new sermon for the final days.” While not as highbrow (huh huh) as the instrumental stoner metal of Bongripper, Belzebong are similarly ominous on opener (yes) “Bong & Chain,” which caps its ten-minute burn with creepy, haunting synths. From there, the band settle into material more akin to Bongzilla; sound clips adorn the chill grooves of “420 Horsemen,” “Hempnotized,” and “Reefer Mortis,” which closes things out with some solid Electric Wizard worship. If you instinctively (and understandably) recoil from music with marijuana aesthetics but dig the meditative repetition offered by stoner metal, consider sampling The End is High. It’s not exactly the caricature it advertises itself as.

Baguette’s Bygone Bounty

Sundecay // The Blood Lives Again [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Toronto’s Sundecay has been around for a while. These Canadian doomers spawned sometime prior to 2014, quietly releasing EP material every once in a blue moon. The Blood Lives Again is their first full-length release—their first signs of life since 2018 in general—and the time and care they took to develop their sound and songwriting prowess pays off here in spades. The doom and proto-doom inspirations from Black Sabbath to Saint Vitus are obvious (“Here Comes the Wizard”), complemented by other influences from proto-metal, psychedelic, and progressive music (“Silence Spoken”). The hefty, layered guitars have a nice fuzz without fully landing in stoner territory. Ambitious long-form tracks like “Will Dusk Defy Dawn” flow like water while carrying significant emotional heft. Lastly, a moody, reverb-heavy vocal performance crowns the classic doom trance the band is aiming for. At five tracks and some 43 minutes, The Blood Lives Again is a total vibe and flies by before you’ve even noticed. Fans of the ’70s should take notes!

Temple Balls // Temple Balls [February 13th, 2026 – Frontiers Music]

One of the most authentic ways you can honor rock music tradition is via questionable naming conventions. On an unrelated note, Temple Balls is a Finnish hard rock/glam rock band, and they’re fun as hell! They’re not particularly new around the block, either: the group formed in 2009, and self-titled Temple Balls is already their fifth album since debut Traded Dreams in 2017. 2023’s Avalanche felt like a watershed moment, a welcome surprise that brought some new life and energy to a fairly dated genre of Europeisms and Hanoi Rocks rehashes. Temple Balls proves that Avalanche wasn’t a one-off, continuing their extremely authentic throwback approach. The heavy/power-metal-meets-AOR direction of songwriting (“Flashback Dynamite,” “Soul Survivor”) gives it that extra guitar oomph and energy that melodic music like this requires to be anywhere near competitive. With great all-out vocals from Arde Teronen and gigantic hooks to match, it’s just a damn good time front to back. Though it will sadly be the last time we’ll hear Niko Vuorela’s guitar work on record (R.I.P., and fuck cancer), the self-titled is certainly a worthy final milestone for him—and hopefully, another beginning for his comrades.

ClarkKent’s Enchanting Earworm

Hela // A Reign to Conquer [February 27, 2026 – Ardua Music]

Just as it put a pause on many plans and projects, the COVID pandemic slowed down the output of Spain’s Hela. A Reign to Conquer marks their first record since 2019’s Vegvìsir, which was their third release since 2013. This brief hiatus brought new blood in the form of vocalist Raquel Navarro, though, in truth, the only consistency in Hela’s lineup is the other three members—Tano Giménez on bass, Miguel Fernández (The Holeum) on drums, and Julián Velasco (The Holeum) on guitars. They have a deep bond, first forged in 2009 with The Sand Collector before forming Hela just three years later. Though they brand Hela as melodic doom, and the band does have a little in common with Katatonia, I think it’s more accurate to describe them as dreamy progressive rock. Navarro is a major reason for this, with dreamy croons that guide listeners through breezy soundscapes. She bears a passing resemblance to Maud the Moth, though the music Hela plays is decidedly more metal than our Dolphin friend’s favorite nocturnal insect. Guitarist Velasco plays a hypnotizing mix of atmospheric fuzz, crushing doom, and melodic riffs that add some heft and crunch to the ethereal sound. A Reign to Conquer has plenty of layers to probe, rewarding listeners who bear with it for repeat listens. While my initial spins left me wanting, I’ve since become spellbound. Add to that some gorgeous artwork, and this is a nice addition to anyone’s vinyl collection. Hela yeah!

Spicie Forrest’s Vicious Vittles

A Wilhelm Scream8 // Cheap Heat [February 27th, 2026 – Creator-Destructor Records]

A Wilhelm Scream9 returns after a four-year hiatus with their eighth long player, Cheap Heat. Sounding like the best combination of The Story So Far and Rise Against, A Wilhelm Scream delivers an impressive tour de force so late in their career. Vocalist Nuno Pereira10 is the highlight of Cheap Heat, driving the album with urgency and passion (“Somebody’s Gonna Die,” “Fell Off”), but no one here is a slouch. The rhythm section—bassist Brian J. Robinson, rhythm guitarist Trevor Reilly, and drummer Nicholas Pasquale Angelini—gleefully tosses gas on Pereira’s bonfire (“I Got Tunnel Vision”) and delivers solid grooves (“Poison II”) and searing ragers (“Unsolving the Mystery”) that keep the energy cranked to 11 all through Cheap Heat. Hooks are by far the most common lead duty, and Ben Murray puts on a fucking clinic. Each note that rings out from his axe sounds like it fucking owns the place (“Run,” “Visitor: Unimpressed”). Cheap Heat is a smidge front-loaded with “Midnight Ghost” and “I Got Tunnel Vision” being album highlights, but no song on here is anything short of a barn burner. At a super tight 28 minutes, Cheap Heat hits hard and fast and gets the fuck out of Dodge before you’re even sure what hit you. I didn’t expect a 26-year-old hardcore outfit to knock my teeth out when I queued it up on a whim one morning, but Cheap Heat is proving to be one of my favorite albums of the year.

Lead Injector // Witching Attack [February 20th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Who doesn’t like the combination of thrash’s unchained aggression and black metal’s cold hate? There’s never been a better pair. Lead Injector hit the ground running on debut LP Witching Attack. From the opening moments of “Siege Upon Heaven” to the closing moments of “Nuclear Antichrist,” Lead Injector is here to do two things: feed high-speed buckshot to God, skeletons, and anything else that gets in their way, and have a Hellripping good time. “Angel Destructor” and “Siege Upon Heaven” barrel pell-mell through searing riffs and blast beats, while groovier tracks like “Evil Executioner” and “Nuclear Antichrist” let black metal’s punk ancestry shine through. Heavy metal influences a la Judas Priest can be found injected into tracks like “Sacrifice This Bitch” and “M.C.C.I.” While nothing about Lead Injector’s sound is particularly new, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing. This debut is a unique and retro spin on a tried-and-true formula that bodes well for a young band. Witching Attack is a killer time that Ash Williams would gladly spin while boomsticking Deadites alongside Lord Arthur’s army.

Seems like the Filtration system is overburdened once again. Normally, my minions have to scavenge much longer to pick things up this early in the year, but 2026 is proving to be rich in moderately precious metallic ore. That just means I gotta push my team even harder to pull greater loads of filth from the ducts!

As I send them in for yet another round, please enjoy the spoils thus far exploited. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Tattered Tome

Overtoun // Death Drive Anthropology [February 13th, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

Chilean progressive death thrash outfit Overtoun is what you get when you mix old school Death and Atheist with the proggier side of Pestilence, then amp the thrash up by a half turn. At a lofty 50 minutes, you’d expect third release Death Drive Anthropology to drag on, but to make that assumption is to criminally underestimate Overtoun’s creativity and versatility. Opening up the throttle in fine form, the one-two punch of “What Unites All (ft. Max Phelps) and “The Final Beat” manages to encompass many of these Chileans’ songwriting and performance skills in a scant 10 minutes. More introspective, nuanced songwriting takes center stage throughout Anthropology’s midsection, balancing smart melodies and minimalist atmosphere with complex guitar layering, proggy structures, and shreddy wizardry (“Dur Khrod,” “Jade, Gold, Obsidian,” “Yurei,” “Weeping”). The three-part “The Waves Suite” suite adds a mystical character to the affair that blends remarkably well with Overtoun’s more overt political messaging and emotional textures, which helps carry the record through its lengthy runtime without causing fatigue. It’s a neat record that’s modestly blemished by a bass presence that begs for more weight and wildness, especially considering the raw talent on hand. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for a creative, thoughtful, and sophisticated entry into the death/thrash progosphere, Death Drive Anthropology makes a strong case.

Andy-War-Hall’s Primordial Pick-Up

The Grand Myth // Of Vultures and Dragons [February 26th, 2026 – Suncrusher Recordings]

I have a grossly limited capacity for seriousness. Yeah, I like my death metal progressive, technical, and thoughtful, much the way Brandon Bordman’s The Grand Myth deliver it on their latest record, Of Vultures and Dragons, but sometimes I just want fun, too. Of Vultures and Dragons, an adaptation of Ethan Pettus’ novel series Primitive War1 in which a rescue team searches a Vietnamese jungle for a missing platoon of Green Berets and fights for their lives against dinosaurs, has fun in spades. Utilizing a many-layered guitar attack (“Symbiotic Death”), shifting and propulsive rhythms (“Through the River Styx”), a wide cast of voice actors for brief narrative bits2 and surprisingly bright tones (“Agony”), The Grand Myth’s approach to progressive death metal isn’t revolutionary, but it’s deeply refreshing and engaging regardless. Though an absolute blast, The Grand Myth doesn’t spew embarrassingly stupid levels of campiness with their sci-fi dinosaur theming like Victorius. Rather, Of Vultures and Dragons can be fairly emotionally effective at times thanks to Bordman’s emotive clean/harsh vocals and elaborate soloing (“Pyre,” “Agony”). Nobody asks about your favorite dinosaur anymore,3 so feed your inner kid with The Grand Myth’s Of Vultures and Dragons now!

Saunders’ Sunken Shards

Puscifer// Normal Isn’t [February 6th, 2026 – Alchemy Recordings]

After losing track of recent offerings, I reacquainted myself with the latest LP from Puscifer, leaving me pleasantly surprised in the aftermath. The project featuring Tool/A Perfect Circle frontman Maynard James Keenan returned for their first hit out since 2020’s Existential Reckoning. Normal Isn’t finds the shape-shifting project embracing its quirky, gothy industrial rock and electronic elements through an angsty filter of guitar-driven arty rock, post-punk, and infectious songcraft. Age should not weary Maynard, as he still sounds angry, cynical, and on point vocally through a mostly engaging, catchy bag of tunes. The dueling vocal melodies with collaborator Carina Round’s ghostly singing work a treat amidst jittery beats, angular riffs and strong electronic overtones. Rhythmically, it is an interesting ride, drummer Gunnar Olsen putting in a top-notch performance, while there is a vaguely progressive edge underlying the hook-centric songwriting. Opener “Thrust” sets the album in motion with sticky hooks, a darkly humorous, unhinged Maynard performance, and a dose of spite. Other key highlights include “Bad Wolf,” “Self Evident,” “A Public Stoning,” and “ImpetuoUs.” Puscifer made a fine return with Normal Isn’t.

Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows // Inexorable Opposites [February 6th, 2026 – Magnetic Eye Records]

You’ve gotta love a sneaky name drop from our trusty commentariat. It has led to many great discoveries over the years. On this occasion, one of our dear commenters enlightened me to Melbourne psych-blues-doomers Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows with fourth LP, Inexorable Opposites. And it didn’t take long absorbing this latest slab of rustic Aussie coolness to be struck by the album’s slow-burning, addictive power, and gritty tones. Boasting an expansive, rugged sound built on layers of distortion and a weighty blend of psych-drenched blues and doom heaviness. Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows features old school, outlaw-driven lyrical content from mastermind and vocalist/guitarist Tim Coutts-Smith, meshing fictional tales of woe and adventure of character Jack Harlon, with relatable real-life struggles. Through the fuzz, thick jammy vibes, and Coutts-Smith distorted, menacing Aussie drawl, catchy songcraft shines through the muck and psych haze. From the tense, stoner-infected grit and catchy hooks of opener “Moss,” through to the stormy outback balladry of closer “To Die,” Inexorable Opposites is a hard-hitting, riffy delight, further evidenced through scorched earth, infectious cuts like “Venomous,” “Seer,” and the trippy, drug-addled “Mt. Macedon.”

Grin Reaper’s Reaped Recluse

Cold Communion // Monuments to Ruin [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Melodic death/doom isn’t a genre I dabble in often, but every now and again, one of its bands thwarts my defenses and wraps their tendrils around my precious listening time. Durham, North Carolina’s Cold Communion is one such band, featuring Barre Gambling (Daylight Dies) on guitar and Tim Rowland (Alchemy of Flesh, Silent Vigil) on everything else. If that sounds like an unfair split, take a spin and reassess, because Gambling’s performance defines Cold Communion’s melancholic character as much as Rowland’s emotive growl. Forgoing any long-form doom epics, Monuments to Ruin’s longest song comes in at five-and-a-half minutes, with the entire album clocking just forty-five. It’s a tidy platter, and both in song composition and mood shares ample common ground with Finnish sadbois Insomnium. Besides Monuments’ superior production, songs like “A Stillness Survival” and “When the Light Breaks” wouldn’t feel out of place on Across the Dark or One for Sorrow. And despite the somber trappings one might expect from doom-adjacency, there’s plenty of lively riffing and solos to find across Monuments to Ruin, adding a touch of boom to the gloom. In the end, Cold Communion doesn’t reinvent the genre or break new ground, but Monuments to Ruin offers a comfy chair by the fireside on a freezing cold day, and I’m perfectly content with that.

Mossgiver // Renewer [February 6th, 2026 – Sij MusicArt]

Atmospheric black metal often contrasts the beautiful with the bestial, typically prioritizing moods over hooks. ‘Twas a delight, then, to unearth Mossgiver’s Renewal, which deftly combines the two. Weaving together hypnotic passages flooded with strings, piano, flute, synths, double bass rolls, and the requisite blackened tremolos,4 Mossgiver’s mastermind Tilen Šimon (Ueldes) delivers the band’s best record to date. Above all, Renewer sounds like a celebration of nature in the vein of Autrest and Cân Bardd, evoking a whispering wind whipping at leaves or sunlight dappling a brook shaded by oaks and maples. Beyond the well-crafted soundtrack for a walk through the woods, Mossgiver etches emotion into the nooks and crannies of Renewer’s five tracks. From rousing string orchestrations (“I Bring the Spring with Me”) to soft-and-heavy tradeoffs pitting clean guitar and pan pipes against distorted guitar and blast beats (“Renewer”), Mossgiver shimmers with a lush backdrop of instrumentation rife with playfulness and pensiveness. The trio of primary songs5 revolve around powerful melodies that evolve over each track’s duration, with assorted instruments coming in and out to push refrains along. Renewer’s brisk thirty-four minutes showcase Mossgiver’s sticky compositions and leave me whistling its melodies for days at a time. Now throw on your hiking boots and get lost in the Moss.

Ossomancer // Banebdjed’s Path [February 28th, 2026 – Esoteric Evocations]

Six-and-a-half years removed from Ossomancer’s debut Artes Magickae, lone wolf and mastermind Kamose returns to tread Banebjed’s Path. Bursting with references to mythology and mysticism, Banebjed’s Path rumbles and shakes with arcane thunder. Although the backdrop and track names might recall the frenzied onslaught of Nile, Ossomancer instead conceives a realm recalling Aeternam, Iotunn, and Naglfar. Despite the scant thirty-four-minute runtime, Banebjed’s Path sprawls across diverse landscapes and textures. Opener “The Ogdoad Arrangement and the Osirian Creation” oscillates between In Flames melodies and a slinky crawl that could pass for a 90s Geddy Lee bass line played over synth injections from Rush’s 80s era. Follow-up track “Sobek – Cosmic Vibrations Devoured” features Kreator-bred riffing, while closing duo “A Sea of Sand, a Silver Star” and “Retraction into Kether” synthesize the ethereal atmospheres of Iotunn with the blackened assault of Naglfar. Through it all, Ossomancer sounds fabulous, as Banebjed’s Path flaunts an enviable DR 8 and a bodacious mix that spotlights its burly bass performance. Ossomancer’s sophomore outing is crammed with meloblack goodies, and though it’s not a long trek, the journey down Banebjed’s Path far transcends its distance.

Tyme’s Danish Dalliance

Ædel Fetich // Ædel Fetich [February 20th, 2026 – Deadbanger Productions]

That blinged-out pink dish-glove-clad hand is what first drew me to Denmark outfit Ædel Fetich’s self-titled debut. Then I clicked play and was taken on one of the more compelling “black” metal rides in recent memory. With roots primarily buried in the soil of the traditional second-wave, Ædel Fetich is rife with moments of rifferous tremolodic speed (“Ridderlig Lider,” “Madras”) and absolutely berserk guitar chaos (“Sort Magi”). There’s a Trhä-like sense of experimentation, and the rawness of the production enhances the oft-changing compositions, which, like weather in the Midwest, often shift on a dime without warning. Luckily, Ædel Fetich’s adept songwriting organically smooths these transitions, which could have easily come off stilted and jarring, but makes drawing direct comparisons to the Ædel Fetich sound difficult, as there’s a spectrum of other influences at play. There are tracks packed with punky punch (“Et Liv Fuld af Fejl,” “Ildtang”) or imbued with folky reverence (“Mit Billede af Dig”) and even some 80s pop—fans of the movie Flashdance shouldn’t have a problem finding the poppy easter egg hiding near the end of “Sort Magi.”6 Far and away the star of the show, however, is singer Skvat, whose performance is filled with as much black metal bravado as it is theatrical exuberance, his arsenal of shrieks, growls, hoots, howls, and operatic baritonations a refreshing treat, akin to if Mike Patton woke up one day deciding to record a Danish black metal album. Bottom line is, I really dig Ædel Fetich and think you will too.

Creeping Ivy’s Ashen Afterthought

Belzebong // The End is High [February 20th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

In my humble opinion, lyrics are key to making stoner metal more than novelty music. If you’re referencing reefer in your album art, band name, and song titles, at least keep the reeferisms out of the songs themselves,7 or better yet, avoid vocals altogether. Taking this latter advice to heart is instrumental Polish four-piece Belzebong, who have been at it for almost 20 years now. On The End is High, their fourth full-length, Belzebong deal 35 minutes of fuzzed-out riffery described as “a new sermon for the final days.” While not as highbrow (huh huh) as the instrumental stoner metal of Bongripper, Belzebong are similarly ominous on opener (yes) “Bong & Chain,” which caps its ten-minute burn with creepy, haunting synths. From there, the band settle into material more akin to Bongzilla; sound clips adorn the chill grooves of “420 Horsemen,” “Hempnotized,” and “Reefer Mortis,” which closes things out with some solid Electric Wizard worship. If you instinctively (and understandably) recoil from music with marijuana aesthetics but dig the meditative repetition offered by stoner metal, consider sampling The End is High. It’s not exactly the caricature it advertises itself as.

Baguette’s Bygone Bounty

Sundecay // The Blood Lives Again [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Toronto’s Sundecay has been around for a while. These Canadian doomers spawned sometime prior to 2014, quietly releasing EP material every once in a blue moon. The Blood Lives Again is their first full-length release—their first signs of life since 2018 in general—and the time and care they took to develop their sound and songwriting prowess pays off here in spades. The doom and proto-doom inspirations from Black Sabbath to Saint Vitus are obvious (“Here Comes the Wizard”), complemented by other influences from proto-metal, psychedelic, and progressive music (“Silence Spoken”). The hefty, layered guitars have a nice fuzz without fully landing in stoner territory. Ambitious long-form tracks like “Will Dusk Defy Dawn” flow like water while carrying significant emotional heft. Lastly, a moody, reverb-heavy vocal performance crowns the classic doom trance the band is aiming for. At five tracks and some 43 minutes, The Blood Lives Again is a total vibe and flies by before you’ve even noticed. Fans of the ’70s should take notes!

Temple Balls // Temple Balls [February 13th, 2026 – Frontiers Music]

One of the most authentic ways you can honor rock music tradition is via questionable naming conventions. On an unrelated note, Temple Balls is a Finnish hard rock/glam rock band, and they’re fun as hell! They’re not particularly new around the block, either: the group formed in 2009, and self-titled Temple Balls is already their fifth album since debut Traded Dreams in 2017. 2023’s Avalanche felt like a watershed moment, a welcome surprise that brought some new life and energy to a fairly dated genre of Europeisms and Hanoi Rocks rehashes. Temple Balls proves that Avalanche wasn’t a one-off, continuing their extremely authentic throwback approach. The heavy/power-metal-meets-AOR direction of songwriting (“Flashback Dynamite,” “Soul Survivor”) gives it that extra guitar oomph and energy that melodic music like this requires to be anywhere near competitive. With great all-out vocals from Arde Teronen and gigantic hooks to match, it’s just a damn good time front to back. Though it will sadly be the last time we’ll hear Niko Vuorela’s guitar work on record (R.I.P., and fuck cancer), the self-titled is certainly a worthy final milestone for him—and hopefully, another beginning for his comrades.

ClarkKent’s Enchanting Earworm

Hela // A Reign to Conquer [February 27, 2026 – Ardua Music]

Just as it put a pause on many plans and projects, the COVID pandemic slowed down the output of Spain’s Hela. A Reign to Conquer marks their first record since 2019’s Vegvìsir, which was their third release since 2013. This brief hiatus brought new blood in the form of vocalist Raquel Navarro, though, in truth, the only consistency in Hela’s lineup is the other three members—Tano Giménez on bass, Miguel Fernández (The Holeum) on drums, and Julián Velasco (The Holeum) on guitars. They have a deep bond, first forged in 2009 with The Sand Collector before forming Hela just three years later. Though they brand Hela as melodic doom, and the band does have a little in common with Katatonia, I think it’s more accurate to describe them as dreamy progressive rock. Navarro is a major reason for this, with dreamy croons that guide listeners through breezy soundscapes. She bears a passing resemblance to Maud the Moth, though the music Hela plays is decidedly more metal than our Dolphin friend’s favorite nocturnal insect. Guitarist Velasco plays a hypnotizing mix of atmospheric fuzz, crushing doom, and melodic riffs that add some heft and crunch to the ethereal sound. A Reign to Conquer has plenty of layers to probe, rewarding listeners who bear with it for repeat listens. While my initial spins left me wanting, I’ve since become spellbound. Add to that some gorgeous artwork, and this is a nice addition to anyone’s vinyl collection. Hela yeah!

Spicie Forrest’s Vicious Vittles

A Wilhelm Scream8 // Cheap Heat [February 27th, 2026 – Creator-Destructor Records]

A Wilhelm Scream9 returns after a four-year hiatus with their eighth long player, Cheap Heat. Sounding like the best combination of The Story So Far and Rise Against, A Wilhelm Scream delivers an impressive tour de force so late in their career. Vocalist Nuno Pereira10 is the highlight of Cheap Heat, driving the album with urgency and passion (“Somebody’s Gonna Die,” “Fell Off”), but no one here is a slouch. The rhythm section—bassist Brian J. Robinson, rhythm guitarist Trevor Reilly, and drummer Nicholas Pasquale Angelini—gleefully tosses gas on Pereira’s bonfire (“I Got Tunnel Vision”) and delivers solid grooves (“Poison II”) and searing ragers (“Unsolving the Mystery”) that keep the energy cranked to 11 all through Cheap Heat. Hooks are by far the most common lead duty, and Ben Murray puts on a fucking clinic. Each note that rings out from his axe sounds like it fucking owns the place (“Run,” “Visitor: Unimpressed”). Cheap Heat is a smidge front-loaded with “Midnight Ghost” and “I Got Tunnel Vision” being album highlights, but no song on here is anything short of a barn burner. At a super tight 28 minutes, Cheap Heat hits hard and fast and gets the fuck out of Dodge before you’re even sure what hit you. I didn’t expect a 26-year-old hardcore outfit to knock my teeth out when I queued it up on a whim one morning, but Cheap Heat is proving to be one of my favorite albums of the year.

Lead Injector // Witching Attack [February 20th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Who doesn’t like the combination of thrash’s unchained aggression and black metal’s cold hate? There’s never been a better pair. Lead Injector hit the ground running on debut LP Witching Attack. From the opening moments of “Siege Upon Heaven” to the closing moments of “Nuclear Antichrist,” Lead Injector is here to do two things: feed high-speed buckshot to God, skeletons, and anything else that gets in their way, and have a Hellripping good time. “Angel Destructor” and “Siege Upon Heaven” barrel pell-mell through searing riffs and blast beats, while groovier tracks like “Evil Executioner” and “Nuclear Antichrist” let black metal’s punk ancestry shine through. Heavy metal influences a la Judas Priest can be found injected into tracks like “Sacrifice This Bitch” and “M.C.C.I.” While nothing about Lead Injector’s sound is particularly new, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing. This debut is a unique and retro spin on a tried-and-true formula that bodes well for a young band. Witching Attack is a killer time that Ash Williams would gladly spin while boomsticking Deadites alongside Lord Arthur’s army.

Seems like the Filtration system is overburdened once again. Normally, my minions have to scavenge much longer to pick things up this early in the year, but 2026 is proving to be rich in moderately precious metallic ore. That just means I gotta push my team even harder to pull greater loads of filth from the ducts!

As I send them in for yet another round, please enjoy the spoils thus far exploited. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Tattered Tome

Overtoun // Death Drive Anthropology [February 13th, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

Chilean progressive death thrash outfit Overtoun is what you get when you mix old school Death and Atheist with the proggier side of Pestilence, then amp the thrash up by a half turn. At a lofty 50 minutes, you’d expect third release Death Drive Anthropology to drag on, but to make that assumption is to criminally underestimate Overtoun’s creativity and versatility. Opening up the throttle in fine form, the one-two punch of “What Unites All (ft. Max Phelps) and “The Final Beat” manages to encompass many of these Chileans’ songwriting and performance skills in a scant 10 minutes. More introspective, nuanced songwriting takes center stage throughout Anthropology’s midsection, balancing smart melodies and minimalist atmosphere with complex guitar layering, proggy structures, and shreddy wizardry (“Dur Khrod,” “Jade, Gold, Obsidian,” “Yurei,” “Weeping”). The three-part “The Waves Suite” suite adds a mystical character to the affair that blends remarkably well with Overtoun’s more overt political messaging and emotional textures, which helps carry the record through its lengthy runtime without causing fatigue. It’s a neat record that’s modestly blemished by a bass presence that begs for more weight and wildness, especially considering the raw talent on hand. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for a creative, thoughtful, and sophisticated entry into the death/thrash progosphere, Death Drive Anthropology makes a strong case.

Andy-War-Hall’s Primordial Pick-Up

The Grand Myth // Of Vultures and Dragons [February 26th, 2026 – Suncrusher Recordings]

I have a grossly limited capacity for seriousness. Yeah, I like my death metal progressive, technical, and thoughtful, much the way Brandon Bordman’s The Grand Myth deliver it on their latest record, Of Vultures and Dragons, but sometimes I just want fun, too. Of Vultures and Dragons, an adaptation of Ethan Pettus’ novel series Primitive War1 in which a rescue team searches a Vietnamese jungle for a missing platoon of Green Berets and fights for their lives against dinosaurs, has fun in spades. Utilizing a many-layered guitar attack (“Symbiotic Death”), shifting and propulsive rhythms (“Through the River Styx”), a wide cast of voice actors for brief narrative bits2 and surprisingly bright tones (“Agony”), The Grand Myth’s approach to progressive death metal isn’t revolutionary, but it’s deeply refreshing and engaging regardless. Though an absolute blast, The Grand Myth doesn’t spew embarrassingly stupid levels of campiness with their sci-fi dinosaur theming like Victorius. Rather, Of Vultures and Dragons can be fairly emotionally effective at times thanks to Bordman’s emotive clean/harsh vocals and elaborate soloing (“Pyre,” “Agony”). Nobody asks about your favorite dinosaur anymore,3 so feed your inner kid with The Grand Myth’s Of Vultures and Dragons now!

Saunders’ Sunken Shards

Puscifer// Normal Isn’t [February 6th, 2026 – Alchemy Recordings]

After losing track of recent offerings, I reacquainted myself with the latest LP from Puscifer, leaving me pleasantly surprised in the aftermath. The project featuring Tool/A Perfect Circle frontman Maynard James Keenan returned for their first hit out since 2020’s Existential Reckoning. Normal Isn’t finds the shape-shifting project embracing its quirky, gothy industrial rock and electronic elements through an angsty filter of guitar-driven arty rock, post-punk, and infectious songcraft. Age should not weary Maynard, as he still sounds angry, cynical, and on point vocally through a mostly engaging, catchy bag of tunes. The dueling vocal melodies with collaborator Carina Round’s ghostly singing work a treat amidst jittery beats, angular riffs and strong electronic overtones. Rhythmically, it is an interesting ride, drummer Gunnar Olsen putting in a top-notch performance, while there is a vaguely progressive edge underlying the hook-centric songwriting. Opener “Thrust” sets the album in motion with sticky hooks, a darkly humorous, unhinged Maynard performance, and a dose of spite. Other key highlights include “Bad Wolf,” “Self Evident,” “A Public Stoning,” and “ImpetuoUs.” Puscifer made a fine return with Normal Isn’t.

Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows // Inexorable Opposites [February 6th, 2026 – Magnetic Eye Records]

You’ve gotta love a sneaky name drop from our trusty commentariat. It has led to many great discoveries over the years. On this occasion, one of our dear commenters enlightened me to Melbourne psych-blues-doomers Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows with fourth LP, Inexorable Opposites. And it didn’t take long absorbing this latest slab of rustic Aussie coolness to be struck by the album’s slow-burning, addictive power, and gritty tones. Boasting an expansive, rugged sound built on layers of distortion and a weighty blend of psych-drenched blues and doom heaviness. Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows features old school, outlaw-driven lyrical content from mastermind and vocalist/guitarist Tim Coutts-Smith, meshing fictional tales of woe and adventure of character Jack Harlon, with relatable real-life struggles. Through the fuzz, thick jammy vibes, and Coutts-Smith distorted, menacing Aussie drawl, catchy songcraft shines through the muck and psych haze. From the tense, stoner-infected grit and catchy hooks of opener “Moss,” through to the stormy outback balladry of closer “To Die,” Inexorable Opposites is a hard-hitting, riffy delight, further evidenced through scorched earth, infectious cuts like “Venomous,” “Seer,” and the trippy, drug-addled “Mt. Macedon.”

Grin Reaper’s Reaped Recluse

Cold Communion // Monuments to Ruin [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Melodic death/doom isn’t a genre I dabble in often, but every now and again, one of its bands thwarts my defenses and wraps their tendrils around my precious listening time. Durham, North Carolina’s Cold Communion is one such band, featuring Barre Gambling (Daylight Dies) on guitar and Tim Rowland (Alchemy of Flesh, Silent Vigil) on everything else. If that sounds like an unfair split, take a spin and reassess, because Gambling’s performance defines Cold Communion’s melancholic character as much as Rowland’s emotive growl. Forgoing any long-form doom epics, Monuments to Ruin’s longest song comes in at five-and-a-half minutes, with the entire album clocking just forty-five. It’s a tidy platter, and both in song composition and mood shares ample common ground with Finnish sadbois Insomnium. Besides Monuments’ superior production, songs like “A Stillness Survival” and “When the Light Breaks” wouldn’t feel out of place on Across the Dark or One for Sorrow. And despite the somber trappings one might expect from doom-adjacency, there’s plenty of lively riffing and solos to find across Monuments to Ruin, adding a touch of boom to the gloom. In the end, Cold Communion doesn’t reinvent the genre or break new ground, but Monuments to Ruin offers a comfy chair by the fireside on a freezing cold day, and I’m perfectly content with that.

Mossgiver // Renewer [February 6th, 2026 – Sij MusicArt]

Atmospheric black metal often contrasts the beautiful with the bestial, typically prioritizing moods over hooks. ‘Twas a delight, then, to unearth Mossgiver’s Renewal, which deftly combines the two. Weaving together hypnotic passages flooded with strings, piano, flute, synths, double bass rolls, and the requisite blackened tremolos,4 Mossgiver’s mastermind Tilen Šimon (Ueldes) delivers the band’s best record to date. Above all, Renewer sounds like a celebration of nature in the vein of Autrest and Cân Bardd, evoking a whispering wind whipping at leaves or sunlight dappling a brook shaded by oaks and maples. Beyond the well-crafted soundtrack for a walk through the woods, Mossgiver etches emotion into the nooks and crannies of Renewer’s five tracks. From rousing string orchestrations (“I Bring the Spring with Me”) to soft-and-heavy tradeoffs pitting clean guitar and pan pipes against distorted guitar and blast beats (“Renewer”), Mossgiver shimmers with a lush backdrop of instrumentation rife with playfulness and pensiveness. The trio of primary songs5 revolve around powerful melodies that evolve over each track’s duration, with assorted instruments coming in and out to push refrains along. Renewer’s brisk thirty-four minutes showcase Mossgiver’s sticky compositions and leave me whistling its melodies for days at a time. Now throw on your hiking boots and get lost in the Moss.

Ossomancer // Banebdjed’s Path [February 28th, 2026 – Esoteric Evocations]

Six-and-a-half years removed from Ossomancer’s debut Artes Magickae, lone wolf and mastermind Kamose returns to tread Banebjed’s Path. Bursting with references to mythology and mysticism, Banebjed’s Path rumbles and shakes with arcane thunder. Although the backdrop and track names might recall the frenzied onslaught of Nile, Ossomancer instead conceives a realm recalling Aeternam, Iotunn, and Naglfar. Despite the scant thirty-four-minute runtime, Banebjed’s Path sprawls across diverse landscapes and textures. Opener “The Ogdoad Arrangement and the Osirian Creation” oscillates between In Flames melodies and a slinky crawl that could pass for a 90s Geddy Lee bass line played over synth injections from Rush’s 80s era. Follow-up track “Sobek – Cosmic Vibrations Devoured” features Kreator-bred riffing, while closing duo “A Sea of Sand, a Silver Star” and “Retraction into Kether” synthesize the ethereal atmospheres of Iotunn with the blackened assault of Naglfar. Through it all, Ossomancer sounds fabulous, as Banebjed’s Path flaunts an enviable DR 8 and a bodacious mix that spotlights its burly bass performance. Ossomancer’s sophomore outing is crammed with meloblack goodies, and though it’s not a long trek, the journey down Banebjed’s Path far transcends its distance.

Tyme’s Danish Dalliance

Ædel Fetich // Ædel Fetich [February 20th, 2026 – Deadbanger Productions]

That blinged-out pink dish-glove-clad hand is what first drew me to Denmark outfit Ædel Fetich’s self-titled debut. Then I clicked play and was taken on one of the more compelling “black” metal rides in recent memory. With roots primarily buried in the soil of the traditional second-wave, Ædel Fetich is rife with moments of rifferous tremolodic speed (“Ridderlig Lider,” “Madras”) and absolutely berserk guitar chaos (“Sort Magi”). There’s a Trhä-like sense of experimentation, and the rawness of the production enhances the oft-changing compositions, which, like weather in the Midwest, often shift on a dime without warning. Luckily, Ædel Fetich’s adept songwriting organically smooths these transitions, which could have easily come off stilted and jarring, but makes drawing direct comparisons to the Ædel Fetich sound difficult, as there’s a spectrum of other influences at play. There are tracks packed with punky punch (“Et Liv Fuld af Fejl,” “Ildtang”) or imbued with folky reverence (“Mit Billede af Dig”) and even some 80s pop—fans of the movie Flashdance shouldn’t have a problem finding the poppy easter egg hiding near the end of “Sort Magi.”6 Far and away the star of the show, however, is singer Skvat, whose performance is filled with as much black metal bravado as it is theatrical exuberance, his arsenal of shrieks, growls, hoots, howls, and operatic baritonations a refreshing treat, akin to if Mike Patton woke up one day deciding to record a Danish black metal album. Bottom line is, I really dig Ædel Fetich and think you will too.

Creeping Ivy’s Ashen Afterthought

Belzebong // The End is High [February 20th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

In my humble opinion, lyrics are key to making stoner metal more than novelty music. If you’re referencing reefer in your album art, band name, and song titles, at least keep the reeferisms out of the songs themselves,7 or better yet, avoid vocals altogether. Taking this latter advice to heart is instrumental Polish four-piece Belzebong, who have been at it for almost 20 years now. On The End is High, their fourth full-length, Belzebong deal 35 minutes of fuzzed-out riffery described as “a new sermon for the final days.” While not as highbrow (huh huh) as the instrumental stoner metal of Bongripper, Belzebong are similarly ominous on opener (yes) “Bong & Chain,” which caps its ten-minute burn with creepy, haunting synths. From there, the band settle into material more akin to Bongzilla; sound clips adorn the chill grooves of “420 Horsemen,” “Hempnotized,” and “Reefer Mortis,” which closes things out with some solid Electric Wizard worship. If you instinctively (and understandably) recoil from music with marijuana aesthetics but dig the meditative repetition offered by stoner metal, consider sampling The End is High. It’s not exactly the caricature it advertises itself as.

Baguette’s Bygone Bounty

Sundecay // The Blood Lives Again [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Toronto’s Sundecay has been around for a while. These Canadian doomers spawned sometime prior to 2014, quietly releasing EP material every once in a blue moon. The Blood Lives Again is their first full-length release—their first signs of life since 2018 in general—and the time and care they took to develop their sound and songwriting prowess pays off here in spades. The doom and proto-doom inspirations from Black Sabbath to Saint Vitus are obvious (“Here Comes the Wizard”), complemented by other influences from proto-metal, psychedelic, and progressive music (“Silence Spoken”). The hefty, layered guitars have a nice fuzz without fully landing in stoner territory. Ambitious long-form tracks like “Will Dusk Defy Dawn” flow like water while carrying significant emotional heft. Lastly, a moody, reverb-heavy vocal performance crowns the classic doom trance the band is aiming for. At five tracks and some 43 minutes, The Blood Lives Again is a total vibe and flies by before you’ve even noticed. Fans of the ’70s should take notes!

Temple Balls // Temple Balls [February 13th, 2026 – Frontiers Music]

One of the most authentic ways you can honor rock music tradition is via questionable naming conventions. On an unrelated note, Temple Balls is a Finnish hard rock/glam rock band, and they’re fun as hell! They’re not particularly new around the block, either: the group formed in 2009, and self-titled Temple Balls is already their fifth album since debut Traded Dreams in 2017. 2023’s Avalanche felt like a watershed moment, a welcome surprise that brought some new life and energy to a fairly dated genre of Europeisms and Hanoi Rocks rehashes. Temple Balls proves that Avalanche wasn’t a one-off, continuing their extremely authentic throwback approach. The heavy/power-metal-meets-AOR direction of songwriting (“Flashback Dynamite,” “Soul Survivor”) gives it that extra guitar oomph and energy that melodic music like this requires to be anywhere near competitive. With great all-out vocals from Arde Teronen and gigantic hooks to match, it’s just a damn good time front to back. Though it will sadly be the last time we’ll hear Niko Vuorela’s guitar work on record (R.I.P., and fuck cancer), the self-titled is certainly a worthy final milestone for him—and hopefully, another beginning for his comrades.

ClarkKent’s Enchanting Earworm

Hela // A Reign to Conquer [February 27, 2026 – Ardua Music]

Just as it put a pause on many plans and projects, the COVID pandemic slowed down the output of Spain’s Hela. A Reign to Conquer marks their first record since 2019’s Vegvìsir, which was their third release since 2013. This brief hiatus brought new blood in the form of vocalist Raquel Navarro, though, in truth, the only consistency in Hela’s lineup is the other three members—Tano Giménez on bass, Miguel Fernández (The Holeum) on drums, and Julián Velasco (The Holeum) on guitars. They have a deep bond, first forged in 2009 with The Sand Collector before forming Hela just three years later. Though they brand Hela as melodic doom, and the band does have a little in common with Katatonia, I think it’s more accurate to describe them as dreamy progressive rock. Navarro is a major reason for this, with dreamy croons that guide listeners through breezy soundscapes. She bears a passing resemblance to Maud the Moth, though the music Hela plays is decidedly more metal than our Dolphin friend’s favorite nocturnal insect. Guitarist Velasco plays a hypnotizing mix of atmospheric fuzz, crushing doom, and melodic riffs that add some heft and crunch to the ethereal sound. A Reign to Conquer has plenty of layers to probe, rewarding listeners who bear with it for repeat listens. While my initial spins left me wanting, I’ve since become spellbound. Add to that some gorgeous artwork, and this is a nice addition to anyone’s vinyl collection. Hela yeah!

Spicie Forrest’s Vicious Vittles

A Wilhelm Scream8 // Cheap Heat [February 27th, 2026 – Creator-Destructor Records]

A Wilhelm Scream9 returns after a four-year hiatus with their eighth long player, Cheap Heat. Sounding like the best combination of The Story So Far and Rise Against, A Wilhelm Scream delivers an impressive tour de force so late in their career. Vocalist Nuno Pereira10 is the highlight of Cheap Heat, driving the album with urgency and passion (“Somebody’s Gonna Die,” “Fell Off”), but no one here is a slouch. The rhythm section—bassist Brian J. Robinson, rhythm guitarist Trevor Reilly, and drummer Nicholas Pasquale Angelini—gleefully tosses gas on Pereira’s bonfire (“I Got Tunnel Vision”) and delivers solid grooves (“Poison II”) and searing ragers (“Unsolving the Mystery”) that keep the energy cranked to 11 all through Cheap Heat. Hooks are by far the most common lead duty, and Ben Murray puts on a fucking clinic. Each note that rings out from his axe sounds like it fucking owns the place (“Run,” “Visitor: Unimpressed”). Cheap Heat is a smidge front-loaded with “Midnight Ghost” and “I Got Tunnel Vision” being album highlights, but no song on here is anything short of a barn burner. At a super tight 28 minutes, Cheap Heat hits hard and fast and gets the fuck out of Dodge before you’re even sure what hit you. I didn’t expect a 26-year-old hardcore outfit to knock my teeth out when I queued it up on a whim one morning, but Cheap Heat is proving to be one of my favorite albums of the year.

Lead Injector // Witching Attack [February 20th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Who doesn’t like the combination of thrash’s unchained aggression and black metal’s cold hate? There’s never been a better pair. Lead Injector hit the ground running on debut LP Witching Attack. From the opening moments of “Siege Upon Heaven” to the closing moments of “Nuclear Antichrist,” Lead Injector is here to do two things: feed high-speed buckshot to God, skeletons, and anything else that gets in their way, and have a Hellripping good time. “Angel Destructor” and “Siege Upon Heaven” barrel pell-mell through searing riffs and blast beats, while groovier tracks like “Evil Executioner” and “Nuclear Antichrist” let black metal’s punk ancestry shine through. Heavy metal influences a la Judas Priest can be found injected into tracks like “Sacrifice This Bitch” and “M.C.C.I.” While nothing about Lead Injector’s sound is particularly new, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing. This debut is a unique and retro spin on a tried-and-true formula that bodes well for a young band. Witching Attack is a killer time that Ash Williams would gladly spin while boomsticking Deadites alongside Lord Arthur’s army.

We’re pleased to announce that we will hit the stage of #SchlachtUmOtzenhausen ⚔️this year 🤘🏻

📆Save the date! 07.11.2026

This festival also supports @metality_foundation

Hopefully we can see some of you there

Spread the words!

ONWARD!

#deathmetal #ossarium #bandsofmastodon #gig #festival #metal #deathdoom

Kval – Kval
#BlackMetal #DSBM #Metal #ScandinavianBlackMetal #atmosphericblackmetal #deathdoom #doommetal #finnishblackmetal #postrock #Amadora
CC BY-NC (#CreativeCommons Attribution Non Commercial) #ccmusic
https://hypnoticdirgerecords.bandcamp.com/album/kval

Listless – selftitled
#BlackMetal #CanadianMetal #DSBM #DepressiveBlackMetal #Metal #atmosphericblackmetal #canada #deathdoom #doommetal #postrock #Amadora
CC BY-NC (#CreativeCommons Attribution Non Commercial) #ccmusic
https://hypnoticdirgerecords.bandcamp.com/album/selftitled-3

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

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

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

Tumultuous Ruin – An Abscess on the Heart of the State
#BlackMetal #Metal #RABM #RawBlackMetal #anarchistblackmetal #atmosphericblackmetal #deathdoom #doommetal #postrock #usbm #Amadora
CC BY-NC (#CreativeCommons Attribution Non Commercial) #ccmusic
https://hypnoticdirgerecords.bandcamp.com/album/an-abscess-on-the-heart-of-the-state

Hey, metalheads!

We were pretty silent lately. But for a good reason. We are working hard on new songs, new merch ideas etc. And of course we are recording the new songs piece by piece. We are also looking for gig opportunities across Germany and even Europe.

And finally we had a quick band shooting with the actual lineup.

From left to right:
Thomas - growls and guitar
Annette - bass
Mike - additional growls and guitar
Basti - Drums

Stay tuned!

ONWARD!

#ossarium #deathmetal #oldschooldeathmetal #doom #deathdoom #osdm #bandsofmastodon #band

Canadian death metal remains one of the country’s most dependable exports. Our neighbors to the North must put something in the water because high-caliber extremity seems to ooze from the trees like maple syrup. The next such group vying for international market share is Toronto-based quintet Gutvoid. Their debut, Durance of Lightless Horizons, contained flashes of brilliance, but occasionally lost focus due to its length. Yet, Steel still found it signaled a group with all the marks of greatness. Three years and an EP later, their sophomore release, Liminal Shrines, now finds the Canadians launching the first of a two-part concept that tells dark, supernatural stories of protagonists who pass through liminal gateways and emerge transfigured. Prepare yourselves—it’s time for Portal Kombat.

Musically, Liminal Shrines fits its theme perfectly. Whether it’s a scholar reciting a spell that causes his soul to leave his body (“Spell Reliquary”), a person dying in their sleep and becoming a ghost (“Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I”), or workers on a job in deep space accidentally releasing angry spirits that possess them (“Chasm of Displaced Souls”), Gutvoid blends classic death metal—à la Bolt Thrower—and doom-crusted horror. The resulting barrage of reality-twisting shifts feels like one is being dragged through a vortex of riffs and rhythms. Balancing Morbid Angel’s brute-force with thoughtful composition, tracks like “Smothering Sea” and “Spell Reliquary” sport pummeling riffs that often transition into dissonant alarms and spiraling arpeggiated guitar work, while the record’s bulkiest tracks (“Chasm of Displaced Souls,” “Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I”) play things safer, prioritizing melody and weight over the adventurous aggression of the album’s earlier tracks.

Liminal Shrines by GUTVOID

Across Liminal Shrines’ front end, Gutvoid shows the range of their talent and songwriting chops. Intro tracks are typically very hit or miss, but curtain-raiser “Ruinous Gateways” sets the tone well, with a thick, audible bass presence and its sashaying, tremolodic guitar lines that feel purposeful rather than ornamental. From there, Gutvoid shows notable command of dynamics and structure. “Spell Reliquary” constantly morphs through melodic arpeggios, walking guitar bridges, and spiraling leads, creating a midpoint packed with engaging twists and turns. Although it ends up toiling for over eight minutes, it never loses its way. “Smothering Sea” raises the bar even higher, folding Meshuggah-style dissonance into rustic, psychedelic grooves and expressive, cosmic–toned leads. The approach is adventurous yet grounded, smartly snapping back to straightforward death when needed. By Liminal Shrines’ halfway mark, Gutvoid’s confidence is brimming, as they continuously attack the nether regions with crushing blast-driven heaviness, unexpected prog flair—like Neil Peart’s (Rush) trademark ride pattern (“Umbriel’s Door”)—and devastating breakdowns.

But strangely, Gutvoid’s ambition tails off around “Umbriel’s Door,” and Liminal Shrines finds the quartet slipping back into some familiar habits—most notably, an overreliance on length that drowns the impact of otherwise great ideas. “Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I,” in particular, feels like a classic case of bloat, taking far too long to evolve out of its mid-tempo Bolt Thrower-esque plods and spacious leads. It’s a shame because there are some genuinely great moments here—the arpeggiated guitar section halfway through, the surprise clean vocal harmonies, and the acoustic ending with tasteful off‑beat drum accents—but each arrives too late and lingers too long, making the twelve-minute runtime feel unjustified for what is ultimately a restrained song compared to Gutvoid’s earlier aspirations. “Chasm of Displaced Souls” fares better thanks to more immediate momentum, inventive drumming, and a compelling atmospheric interlude that recalls “Ruinous Gateways,” yet even here a sense of repetition creeps in. While these tracks aren’t bad by any stretch, they reinforce the group’s tendency to trust duration over concision to create gravity, consequently stretching songs beyond their natural lifespan.

There’s no question Gutvoid has the chops, but Liminal Shrines hovers somewhere between good and very good. I can’t help but feel let down by a final block that doesn’t match the ambition of the first half, especially when their strongest material proves they don’t need to rely on excess to hit hard and clearly know how to write great songs that stick. I’ll be watching for the second half of this series, hoping the closer shows up partially reborn. The good news, though, is that Gutvoid has still given us enough to chew on while we wait for them to unlock their full potential.

Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Profound Lore
Websites: gutvoid.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/gutvoidofficial
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

I think most people who meet me, either online or in meatspace, would not imagine I enjoy a genre like funeral doom. Yet, it is one of my favorites. Acts like Eye of Solitude, Convocation, Slow, Un, and Ahab rank among my top choices for the space, and Romania’s In Ruins caught my ear by treading a similar path. A duo established in 2021, with mastermind Urmuz previously engaged with a spectrum of black metal, grindcore, and death/doom acts, In Ruins prepared a tight 42-minute opus as their opening salvo into fundoom territory. We Are All to Perish, but will we remember the journey that In Ruins led to that final destination?

With some funeral doom records, you get catharsis in the form of a few well-placed outbursts of violence interspersed between large swaths of misery. This is the philosophy Eye of Solitude and Convocation often adopt. Other applications of the style prioritize moods and crushing sorrow delivered at a dirge, a uniformly funereal pace that hypnotizes as much as it depresses. Enter the eulogies of Slow and Un. In Ruins embraces the latter methodology, lumbering as a husk emptied of light and of will. It is a deeply affecting emotional foundation upon which to build, and In Ruins build upon it well. Riffs crush and linger, simple and thunderous, but here they are not the hero element. Melody and atmosphere take a higher rank, though they too dilute into a more simplified, pure state that maximizes potency while stripping away musical complexity. It is entrancing as only funeral doom records can be, and its smart writing boasts all of the natural components for a successful procession.

In Ruins – We Are All to Perish | MMR069 by In Ruins

A common element that distinguishes good and great funeral doom records from inferior specimens is a showstopper track. Slow famously invites comparison here with their incredible “Incendiare,” Eye of Solitude with “Act II: Where the Descent Began,” Convocation with “Atychiphobia,” Woebegone Obscured with “Drømmefald.” In Ruins achieves it with closer “Farewell,” and does so in the most deceptively simple way. By launching the track with excellent SWANA1-inspired melisma, and reinforcing those deep vocalizations later against mournful bells, In Ruins makes an indelible mark on my fundoom rotation. It’s slow and plodding through its first act, enacting yet another favorite motif: the two-chord riff (see Slow’s “Lueur” for a stellar example of this tactic). In its second, a weeping melody, isolated against droning choral synths and Frayle-esque backing siren song until the album’s dying rattle. It is breathtaking and morose in equal measure, but more than that, it inspires repeat spins for the express purpose of experiencing the excursion that led to this climax with greater anticipation and attention.

This, in turn, invigorates and contextualizes the songwriting of the preceding three tracks. At first, they go through all the right motions of a proper funeral doom experience, but without a strong sense of memorability to leave a lasting impression. But after the first spin, I noticed the clarity of “I’m Tired of Living in My Land” offered by its candid, unpretentious lyrics. I understood the emptiness and the apathy that colors “I Do Not Regret and I Do Not Shed Tears” in a monochrome, dull gray. Compositional foreshadowing felt more meaningful when “We’ll Depart This World for Ever, Surely” sets me up for “Farewell” once more. In this way, In Ruins crafted a record that requires repeat spins to fully appreciate, forging a double edged sword. On one side, each of the first three songs on their own still lacks the same power of the closer despite gaining substance with time. On the other hand, treated as a single unit, We Are All to Perish is a wholly successful and worthy entry into the pantheon of funeral doom.

As a competitor to the standout entities of the funeral field, In Ruins stake a viable claim with We Are All to Perish. To push further into that space and stand out, they’ll need to make each and every track—especially if there are as few as four, like so here—unforgettable in some meaningful way. “Farewell” is a great song, and features elements and ideas that, if capitalized on in future records, might guarantee In Ruins a wider audience and greater acclaim. Until then, rest easy knowing that while We Are All to Perish, we can at least enjoy the path that leads to the end.

Rating: Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Meuse Music Records
Websites: inruins13.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/InRuins.ro
Releases Worldwide: March 13th, 2026

Show 1 footnote

1. Southwest Asian and North African. ↩

Ladies and gentleman,

it’s #BandcampFriday again! If you’re into #oldschooldeathmetal #deathmetal #deathdoom #osdm consider to support us.

We’re currently working hard on new stuff 🤘🏻 It’ll be a blast!

Have a big harvest!

https://ossarium.bandcamp.com/album/onward

“FUCK THE #WAR !!”

A clear statement from Thomas on our last gig.
#bandsofmastodon #deathmetal #deathdoom #ossarium #music

This week's #ThursDeath is debut LP 'Chasm of Immurement' by Warsaw''s CLAIRVOYANCE. Not sure how I missed this last year, as I loved their EP. This is some KILLER cavernous, churning, CRUSHING death doom with great dynamics and excellent faster/mid-tempo spots too.

https://carbonizedrecords.bandcamp.com/album/chasm-of-immurement

#metal #DeathMetal #2025Albums #2025Records #Poland #PolishMetal #Warsaw #WarsawMetal #OSDM #Clairvoyance #WarsawPoland #Doom #DoomMetal #DeathDoom @HailsandAles @wendigo @rtw @guffo @c0m4 @flockofnazguls @swampgas @Kitty @nnenov @umrk

Yesterday I had my first #gig with my band @Ossarium
It was such a blast! I’m really stoked what we achieved after just 6 weeks 🤘🏻

#ossarium #deathmetal #metal #bandsofmastodon #deathdoom #OldschoolDeathMetal

Ladies and gentlemen,

it’s #gigweek ! We can’t wait to hit the stage on Saturday 🤘🏻 Maybe we can also see one or two of you there.

Here’s a snippet from our last rehearsal 😉
Spread the riffs!

ONWARD!!!

#deathmetal #deathdoom #metal #bandsofmastodon #music #rehearsal #gig #ossarium #growls

Notturno – Our
#BlackMetal #DSBM #DepressiveBlackMetal #Metal #atmosphericblackmetal #atmosphericdoommetal #deathdoom #doommetal #postrock #Amadora
CC BY-NC (#CreativeCommons Attribution Non Commercial) #ccmusic
https://hypnoticdirgerecords.bandcamp.com/album/our

Dvm Spiro – MMXXVI – Grave Review

As is perhaps unsurprising for a doom act, Dvm Spiro appear to have a preoccupation with death. The…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.0 #Ahab #DeathDoom #Doom #DvmSpiro #Endonomos #Entertainment #funeral #FuneralDoom #ItalianMetal #Jan26 #MMXXVI-Grave #MyKingdomMusic #NihiliLocus #review #Reviews #UK #UnitedKingdom
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/367026/

Dvm Spiro – MMXXVI – Grave Review

As is perhaps unsurprising for a doom act, Dvm Spiro appear to have a preoccupation with death. The…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.0 #Ahab #CA #Canada #DeathDoom #Doom #DvmSpiro #Endonomos #Entertainment #funeral #FuneralDoom #ItalianMetal #Jan26 #MMXXVI-Grave #MyKingdomMusic #NihiliLocus #review #reviews
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/399252/

https://www.europesays.com/ie/276482/ Dvm Spiro – MMXXVI – Grave Review #2026 #3.0 #Ahab #DeathDoom #Doom #DvmSpiro #Éire #Endonomos #Entertainment #Funeral #FuneralDoom #IE #Ireland #ItalianMetal #Jan26 #MMXXVIGrave #Music #MyKingdomMusic #NihiliLocus #Review #Reviews

As is perhaps unsurprising for a doom act, Dvm Spiro appear to have a preoccupation with death. The subtitle of their debut, MMXIX – In Frigidum Lectum is Latin for In a Cold Bed—presumably an allusion to one’s grave—and now, sophomore MMXXVI – Grave states that concept explicitly. This legacy in misery actually extends further into the past, as three of Dvm Spiro’s four members also play in longstanding Italian doom outfit Nihili Locus. With this kind of doom pedigree, the promotional references to legendary artists My Dying Bride, Funeral, and Shape of Despair feel promising and are apt insofar as the core vibe goes. But there are far more sides to Grave than these clickbait comparisons can capture, and it’s in these that the record stands or falls.

Grave is funeral doom, broadly categorized. It borrows plenty from a cavernous and malevolent doom-death on the one hand, and an almost post-doom ambience on the other. Rather than any of the actual touchstones mentioned, it is Ahab that Dvm Spiro’s music seems to channel most strongly and frequently, the particular rhythm and tone of warm liquid plucks and an intruding sinister melody—combined with the crushing heaviness either side—reminding me in particular of Call of the Wretched Sea (“Indistinta Morte,” “Insoluto D’Anima”). There are also a few hints of the aforementioned Funeral (“Troppo Lente Scendono Le Tue”) and Endonomos (“Dissentimento”). In general, Dvm Spiro largely eschew that grandiose transcendence of synth-forward funeral doom and tip the melodic scales away from mournful beauty in favor of a more unsettling dissonance or uncomfortable modal shifting. There are still majestic, mellifluous moments, but Grave seems intended to trouble its listener more than anaesthetise or provide catharsis.

It’s this subversion of aesthetic expectations that gives Dvm Spiro and Grave their character. On paper, the vocal dynamic between female cleans and male harsh vox in the context of doom suggests an ethereal Beauty-and-the-Beast dichotomy—à la Shape of Despair or Draconian. But Dvm Spiro don’t play into the trope so neatly, elevating tension with multifaceted performances from both vocalists. Valeria De Benedectis’ singing carries some of the record’s most beautiful moments (“Indistinta Morte,” “Troppo Lente…”), but also some of the most discomfiting as her voice lapses into haughty, ardent repetition (“Indistinta Morte”) or turns sharply into a malevolent tone (“Preludio,” “Dissentimento”). Roberto Ripollino’s growls join her sometimes for an undeniably powerful duet of opposites (“Dissentimento”) but so too do Maurizio DeMichelis’s raspier snarls (“Troppo Lente…,” “Insoluto D’Anima”), creating a blunter, less perfect contrast that jostles the emotions. Pianos, strings, and guitars alike flow, strum, and weep with pathos for a phrase (“Troppo Lente…”), a rare rise above the gloom (“Preludio,” “Dissentimento”), or a dreamlike intro (“Indistinta Morte,” “Insoluto D’Anima”); in these moments, you could almost believe you’re in the more comforting, less real world of another, prettier doom. Grave, however, has other designs, shifting into discordance or another key, dropping a strange tritone and an accompanying guitar chord (“Preludio,” “Indistinta Morte,” “Troppo Lente…”), forcing you to confront the negativity.

Grave is thus striking, but not always in a way that works. I couldn’t and won’t argue that metal of any kind must be an unchallenging listening experience, but Dvm Spiro’s choices sometimes go beyond adding nuance and approach confusion. The modulations can be too jarring (“Preludio,” “Insoluto D’Anima”), songs too long without meaningful builds (“Indistinta Morte”), and prevarication around structures and refrains sometimes frustrating (“Troppo Lente…”). There is both too much and too little happening for the album’s epic 75-minute length to maintain the coherence and magnetism that might be added with more flowing compositions that committed more firmly to a sinister dissonance or uplifting pathos through each successive movement. And so multifaceted passages tend to distract, and extended sections pull back the progression of compositions, rather than drive it onwards.

Let it not be said that Grave is thereby a weak record. Its brilliant moments of both harmony (“Troppo Lente…”) and malevolence (“Indistina Morte”) shine and prove Dvm Spiro capable of magnificence in both aspects. There is a peculiar power in the subtleties and variance of their melodic and compositional approaches that may resonate more with some listeners than others. As a whole, it doesn’t possess the magnitude or the mystique to fully envelop right now. Perhaps its strength is far more insidious.

Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: My Kingdom Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2025

As is perhaps unsurprising for a doom act, Dvm Spiro appear to have a preoccupation with death. The subtitle of their debut, MMXIX – In Frigidum Lectum is Latin for In a Cold Bed—presumably an allusion to one’s grave—and now, sophomore MMXXVI – Grave states that concept explicitly. This legacy in misery actually extends further into the past, as three of Dvm Spiro’s four members also play in longstanding Italian doom outfit Nihili Locus. With this kind of doom pedigree, the promotional references to legendary artists My Dying Bride, Funeral, and Shape of Despair feel promising and are apt insofar as the core vibe goes. But there are far more sides to Grave than these clickbait comparisons can capture, and it’s in these that the record stands or falls.

Grave is funeral doom, broadly categorized. It borrows plenty from a cavernous and malevolent doom-death on the one hand, and an almost post-doom ambience on the other. Rather than any of the actual touchstones mentioned, it is Ahab that Dvm Spiro’s music seems to channel most strongly and frequently, the particular rhythm and tone of warm liquid plucks and an intruding sinister melody—combined with the crushing heaviness either side—reminding me in particular of Call of the Wretched Sea (“Indistinta Morte,” “Insoluto D’Anima”). There are also a few hints of the aforementioned Funeral (“Troppo Lente Scendono Le Tue”) and Endonomos (“Dissentimento”). In general, Dvm Spiro largely eschew that grandiose transcendence of synth-forward funeral doom and tip the melodic scales away from mournful beauty in favor of a more unsettling dissonance or uncomfortable modal shifting. There are still majestic, mellifluous moments, but Grave seems intended to trouble its listener more than anaesthetise or provide catharsis.

It’s this subversion of aesthetic expectations that gives Dvm Spiro and Grave their character. On paper, the vocal dynamic between female cleans and male harsh vox in the context of doom suggests an ethereal Beauty-and-the-Beast dichotomy—à la Shape of Despair or Draconian. But Dvm Spiro don’t play into the trope so neatly, elevating tension with multifaceted performances from both vocalists. Valeria De Benedectis’ singing carries some of the record’s most beautiful moments (“Indistinta Morte,” “Troppo Lente…”), but also some of the most discomfiting as her voice lapses into haughty, ardent repetition (“Indistinta Morte”) or turns sharply into a malevolent tone (“Preludio,” “Dissentimento”). Roberto Ripollino’s growls join her sometimes for an undeniably powerful duet of opposites (“Dissentimento”) but so too do Maurizio DeMichelis’s raspier snarls (“Troppo Lente…,” “Insoluto D’Anima”), creating a blunter, less perfect contrast that jostles the emotions. Pianos, strings, and guitars alike flow, strum, and weep with pathos for a phrase (“Troppo Lente…”), a rare rise above the gloom (“Preludio,” “Dissentimento”), or a dreamlike intro (“Indistinta Morte,” “Insoluto D’Anima”); in these moments, you could almost believe you’re in the more comforting, less real world of another, prettier doom. Grave, however, has other designs, shifting into discordance or another key, dropping a strange tritone and an accompanying guitar chord (“Preludio,” “Indistinta Morte,” “Troppo Lente…”), forcing you to confront the negativity.

Grave is thus striking, but not always in a way that works. I couldn’t and won’t argue that metal of any kind must be an unchallenging listening experience, but Dvm Spiro’s choices sometimes go beyond adding nuance and approach confusion. The modulations can be too jarring (“Preludio,” “Insoluto D’Anima”), songs too long without meaningful builds (“Indistinta Morte”), and prevarication around structures and refrains sometimes frustrating (“Troppo Lente…”). There is both too much and too little happening for the album’s epic 75-minute length to maintain the coherence and magnetism that might be added with more flowing compositions that committed more firmly to a sinister dissonance or uplifting pathos through each successive movement. And so multifaceted passages tend to distract, and extended sections pull back the progression of compositions, rather than drive it onwards.

Let it not be said that Grave is thereby a weak record. Its brilliant moments of both harmony (“Troppo Lente…”) and malevolence (“Indistina Morte”) shine and prove Dvm Spiro capable of magnificence in both aspects. There is a peculiar power in the subtleties and variance of their melodic and compositional approaches that may resonate more with some listeners than others. As a whole, it doesn’t possess the magnitude or the mystique to fully envelop right now. Perhaps its strength is far more insidious.

Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: My Kingdom Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2025

As is perhaps unsurprising for a doom act, Dvm Spiro appear to have a preoccupation with death. The subtitle of their debut, MMXIX – In Frigidum Lectum is Latin for In a Cold Bed—presumably an allusion to one’s grave—and now, sophomore MMXXVI – Grave states that concept explicitly. This legacy in misery actually extends further into the past, as three of Dvm Spiro’s four members also play in longstanding Italian doom outfit Nihili Locus. With this kind of doom pedigree, the promotional references to legendary artists My Dying Bride, Funeral, and Shape of Despair feel promising and are apt insofar as the core vibe goes. But there are far more sides to Grave than these clickbait comparisons can capture, and it’s in these that the record stands or falls.

Grave is funeral doom, broadly categorized. It borrows plenty from a cavernous and malevolent doom-death on the one hand, and an almost post-doom ambience on the other. Rather than any of the actual touchstones mentioned, it is Ahab that Dvm Spiro’s music seems to channel most strongly and frequently, the particular rhythm and tone of warm liquid plucks and an intruding sinister melody—combined with the crushing heaviness either side—reminding me in particular of Call of the Wretched Sea (“Indistinta Morte,” “Insoluto D’Anima”). There are also a few hints of the aforementioned Funeral (“Troppo Lente Scendono Le Tue”) and Endonomos (“Dissentimento”). In general, Dvm Spiro largely eschew that grandiose transcendence of synth-forward funeral doom and tip the melodic scales away from mournful beauty in favor of a more unsettling dissonance or uncomfortable modal shifting. There are still majestic, mellifluous moments, but Grave seems intended to trouble its listener more than anaesthetise or provide catharsis.

It’s this subversion of aesthetic expectations that gives Dvm Spiro and Grave their character. On paper, the vocal dynamic between female cleans and male harsh vox in the context of doom suggests an ethereal Beauty-and-the-Beast dichotomy—à la Shape of Despair or Draconian. But Dvm Spiro don’t play into the trope so neatly, elevating tension with multifaceted performances from both vocalists. Valeria De Benedectis’ singing carries some of the record’s most beautiful moments (“Indistinta Morte,” “Troppo Lente…”), but also some of the most discomfiting as her voice lapses into haughty, ardent repetition (“Indistinta Morte”) or turns sharply into a malevolent tone (“Preludio,” “Dissentimento”). Roberto Ripollino’s growls join her sometimes for an undeniably powerful duet of opposites (“Dissentimento”) but so too do Maurizio DeMichelis’s raspier snarls (“Troppo Lente…,” “Insoluto D’Anima”), creating a blunter, less perfect contrast that jostles the emotions. Pianos, strings, and guitars alike flow, strum, and weep with pathos for a phrase (“Troppo Lente…”), a rare rise above the gloom (“Preludio,” “Dissentimento”), or a dreamlike intro (“Indistinta Morte,” “Insoluto D’Anima”); in these moments, you could almost believe you’re in the more comforting, less real world of another, prettier doom. Grave, however, has other designs, shifting into discordance or another key, dropping a strange tritone and an accompanying guitar chord (“Preludio,” “Indistinta Morte,” “Troppo Lente…”), forcing you to confront the negativity.

Grave is thus striking, but not always in a way that works. I couldn’t and won’t argue that metal of any kind must be an unchallenging listening experience, but Dvm Spiro’s choices sometimes go beyond adding nuance and approach confusion. The modulations can be too jarring (“Preludio,” “Insoluto D’Anima”), songs too long without meaningful builds (“Indistinta Morte”), and prevarication around structures and refrains sometimes frustrating (“Troppo Lente…”). There is both too much and too little happening for the album’s epic 75-minute length to maintain the coherence and magnetism that might be added with more flowing compositions that committed more firmly to a sinister dissonance or uplifting pathos through each successive movement. And so multifaceted passages tend to distract, and extended sections pull back the progression of compositions, rather than drive it onwards.

Let it not be said that Grave is thereby a weak record. Its brilliant moments of both harmony (“Troppo Lente…”) and malevolence (“Indistina Morte”) shine and prove Dvm Spiro capable of magnificence in both aspects. There is a peculiar power in the subtleties and variance of their melodic and compositional approaches that may resonate more with some listeners than others. As a whole, it doesn’t possess the magnitude or the mystique to fully envelop right now. Perhaps its strength is far more insidious.

Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: My Kingdom Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2025

As is perhaps unsurprising for a doom act, Dvm Spiro appear to have a preoccupation with death. The subtitle of their debut, MMXIX – In Frigidum Lectum is Latin for In a Cold Bed—presumably an allusion to one’s grave—and now, sophomore MMXXVI – Grave states that concept explicitly. This legacy in misery actually extends further into the past, as three of Dvm Spiro’s four members also play in longstanding Italian doom outfit Nihili Locus. With this kind of doom pedigree, the promotional references to legendary artists My Dying Bride, Funeral, and Shape of Despair feel promising and are apt insofar as the core vibe goes. But there are far more sides to Grave than these clickbait comparisons can capture, and it’s in these that the record stands or falls.

Grave is funeral doom, broadly categorized. It borrows plenty from a cavernous and malevolent doom-death on the one hand, and an almost post-doom ambience on the other. Rather than any of the actual touchstones mentioned, it is Ahab that Dvm Spiro’s music seems to channel most strongly and frequently, the particular rhythm and tone of warm liquid plucks and an intruding sinister melody—combined with the crushing heaviness either side—reminding me in particular of Call of the Wretched Sea (“Indistinta Morte,” “Insoluto D’Anima”). There are also a few hints of the aforementioned Funeral (“Troppo Lente Scendono Le Tue”) and Endonomos (“Dissentimento”). In general, Dvm Spiro largely eschew that grandiose transcendence of synth-forward funeral doom and tip the melodic scales away from mournful beauty in favor of a more unsettling dissonance or uncomfortable modal shifting. There are still majestic, mellifluous moments, but Grave seems intended to trouble its listener more than anaesthetise or provide catharsis.

It’s this subversion of aesthetic expectations that gives Dvm Spiro and Grave their character. On paper, the vocal dynamic between female cleans and male harsh vox in the context of doom suggests an ethereal Beauty-and-the-Beast dichotomy—à la Shape of Despair or Draconian. But Dvm Spiro don’t play into the trope so neatly, elevating tension with multifaceted performances from both vocalists. Valeria De Benedectis’ singing carries some of the record’s most beautiful moments (“Indistinta Morte,” “Troppo Lente…”), but also some of the most discomfiting as her voice lapses into haughty, ardent repetition (“Indistinta Morte”) or turns sharply into a malevolent tone (“Preludio,” “Dissentimento”). Roberto Ripollino’s growls join her sometimes for an undeniably powerful duet of opposites (“Dissentimento”) but so too do Maurizio DeMichelis’s raspier snarls (“Troppo Lente…,” “Insoluto D’Anima”), creating a blunter, less perfect contrast that jostles the emotions. Pianos, strings, and guitars alike flow, strum, and weep with pathos for a phrase (“Troppo Lente…”), a rare rise above the gloom (“Preludio,” “Dissentimento”), or a dreamlike intro (“Indistinta Morte,” “Insoluto D’Anima”); in these moments, you could almost believe you’re in the more comforting, less real world of another, prettier doom. Grave, however, has other designs, shifting into discordance or another key, dropping a strange tritone and an accompanying guitar chord (“Preludio,” “Indistinta Morte,” “Troppo Lente…”), forcing you to confront the negativity.

Grave is thus striking, but not always in a way that works. I couldn’t and won’t argue that metal of any kind must be an unchallenging listening experience, but Dvm Spiro’s choices sometimes go beyond adding nuance and approach confusion. The modulations can be too jarring (“Preludio,” “Insoluto D’Anima”), songs too long without meaningful builds (“Indistinta Morte”), and prevarication around structures and refrains sometimes frustrating (“Troppo Lente…”). There is both too much and too little happening for the album’s epic 75-minute length to maintain the coherence and magnetism that might be added with more flowing compositions that committed more firmly to a sinister dissonance or uplifting pathos through each successive movement. And so multifaceted passages tend to distract, and extended sections pull back the progression of compositions, rather than drive it onwards.

Let it not be said that Grave is thereby a weak record. Its brilliant moments of both harmony (“Troppo Lente…”) and malevolence (“Indistina Morte”) shine and prove Dvm Spiro capable of magnificence in both aspects. There is a peculiar power in the subtleties and variance of their melodic and compositional approaches that may resonate more with some listeners than others. As a whole, it doesn’t possess the magnitude or the mystique to fully envelop right now. Perhaps its strength is far more insidious.

Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: My Kingdom Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2025

As is perhaps unsurprising for a doom act, Dvm Spiro appear to have a preoccupation with death. The subtitle of their debut, MMXIX – In Frigidum Lectum is Latin for In a Cold Bed—presumably an allusion to one’s grave—and now, sophomore MMXXVI – Grave states that concept explicitly. This legacy in misery actually extends further into the past, as three of Dvm Spiro’s four members also play in longstanding Italian doom outfit Nihili Locus. With this kind of doom pedigree, the promotional references to legendary artists My Dying Bride, Funeral, and Shape of Despair feel promising and are apt insofar as the core vibe goes. But there are far more sides to Grave than these clickbait comparisons can capture, and it’s in these that the record stands or falls.

Grave is funeral doom, broadly categorized. It borrows plenty from a cavernous and malevolent doom-death on the one hand, and an almost post-doom ambience on the other. Rather than any of the actual touchstones mentioned, it is Ahab that Dvm Spiro’s music seems to channel most strongly and frequently, the particular rhythm and tone of warm liquid plucks and an intruding sinister melody—combined with the crushing heaviness either side—reminding me in particular of Call of the Wretched Sea (“Indistinta Morte,” “Insoluto D’Anima”). There are also a few hints of the aforementioned Funeral (“Troppo Lente Scendono Le Tue”) and Endonomos (“Dissentimento”). In general, Dvm Spiro largely eschew that grandiose transcendence of synth-forward funeral doom and tip the melodic scales away from mournful beauty in favor of a more unsettling dissonance or uncomfortable modal shifting. There are still majestic, mellifluous moments, but Grave seems intended to trouble its listener more than anaesthetise or provide catharsis.

It’s this subversion of aesthetic expectations that gives Dvm Spiro and Grave their character. On paper, the vocal dynamic between female cleans and male harsh vox in the context of doom suggests an ethereal Beauty-and-the-Beast dichotomy—à la Shape of Despair or Draconian. But Dvm Spiro don’t play into the trope so neatly, elevating tension with multifaceted performances from both vocalists. Valeria De Benedectis’ singing carries some of the record’s most beautiful moments (“Indistinta Morte,” “Troppo Lente…”), but also some of the most discomfiting as her voice lapses into haughty, ardent repetition (“Indistinta Morte”) or turns sharply into a malevolent tone (“Preludio,” “Dissentimento”). Roberto Ripollino’s growls join her sometimes for an undeniably powerful duet of opposites (“Dissentimento”) but so too do Maurizio DeMichelis’s raspier snarls (“Troppo Lente…,” “Insoluto D’Anima”), creating a blunter, less perfect contrast that jostles the emotions. Pianos, strings, and guitars alike flow, strum, and weep with pathos for a phrase (“Troppo Lente…”), a rare rise above the gloom (“Preludio,” “Dissentimento”), or a dreamlike intro (“Indistinta Morte,” “Insoluto D’Anima”); in these moments, you could almost believe you’re in the more comforting, less real world of another, prettier doom. Grave, however, has other designs, shifting into discordance or another key, dropping a strange tritone and an accompanying guitar chord (“Preludio,” “Indistinta Morte,” “Troppo Lente…”), forcing you to confront the negativity.

Grave is thus striking, but not always in a way that works. I couldn’t and won’t argue that metal of any kind must be an unchallenging listening experience, but Dvm Spiro’s choices sometimes go beyond adding nuance and approach confusion. The modulations can be too jarring (“Preludio,” “Insoluto D’Anima”), songs too long without meaningful builds (“Indistinta Morte”), and prevarication around structures and refrains sometimes frustrating (“Troppo Lente…”). There is both too much and too little happening for the album’s epic 75-minute length to maintain the coherence and magnetism that might be added with more flowing compositions that committed more firmly to a sinister dissonance or uplifting pathos through each successive movement. And so multifaceted passages tend to distract, and extended sections pull back the progression of compositions, rather than drive it onwards.

Let it not be said that Grave is thereby a weak record. Its brilliant moments of both harmony (“Troppo Lente…”) and malevolence (“Indistina Morte”) shine and prove Dvm Spiro capable of magnificence in both aspects. There is a peculiar power in the subtleties and variance of their melodic and compositional approaches that may resonate more with some listeners than others. As a whole, it doesn’t possess the magnitude or the mystique to fully envelop right now. Perhaps its strength is far more insidious.

Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: My Kingdom Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2025

Weeping Sores – The Convalescence Agonies [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

By Creeping Ivy

Pleasure—as Judas Priest, sadomasochists, and Flagellants teach us—can be found in pain. Doug Moore and Stephen Schwegler, the guitar/drum duo behind Weeping Sores, also teach this lesson with The Convalescence Agonies. As its title suggests, the sophomore Weeping Sores album chronicles Moore’s recovery from a shoulder injury that, quite unfortunately, prevented him from playing guitar.1 Quite fortunately for us, Moore sublimates his agony into the listener’s ecstasy with The Convalescence Agonies. Debut False Confession received high praise here, making the 2019 lists of Saunders (Honorable Mention), Cherd of Doom (#8), and Ferrous Beuller (#4). On its follow-up, Weeping Sores deliver a leaner, lusher, and eminently listable slab of death-doom.

On The Convalescence Agonies, Weeping Sores level up by scaling back. False Confession established that Moore and Schwegler of Pyrrhon fame could successfully craft a more plodding, brooding death metal, sounding like Morbid Angel making proclamations to My Dying Bride. At 56 minutes with multiple 9- and 10-minute songs, however, the album definitely fatigues. In comparison, The Convalescence Agonies clocks in at 43 minutes, energizing the listener by lurking towards its epic compositions. Moore’s climbing guitar and anguished screams in “Arctic Summer” segue into “Empty Vessel Hymn,” a heater showcasing Schwegler’s jazzy hands. The mid-album climax, “Sprawl in the City of Sorrow,” spreads chunky, blasty, and militaristic riffs across 9 breezy minutes. “Pleading for the Scythe” mixes delicate chords, lumbering beatdowns, and off-kilter shredding, setting the stage for the title track. “The Convalescence Agonies,” a 14-minute monster, boasts the stankiest, dumpiest chuggery on the entire album. Without compromising the scope of its songwriting, Weeping Sores have crafted a tighter, better-paced album than the debut.

False Confession stans might weep when learning that the violin of Gina Hendrika Eygenhuysen does not appear on The Convalescence Agonies. In its place is the cello of Annie Blythe, which directs a broader ensemble of ancillary instrumentation. Like Eygenhuysen’s violin, Blythe’s cello often occupies center stage, dramatizing sparse verses (“Arctic Summer”) and blasty tremolos (“The Convalescence Agonies”). Arguably, the deeper tone of the cello better suits the music, feeling like an extension of the scooped guitar tone. Weeping Sores also incorporate keyboards from Brendon Randall-Myers (Scarcity), which add a refined, almost proggy aura to caveman breakdowns and hyperspeed chugging (“Pleading for the Scythe”). There’s even banjo in “Sprawl…,” commingling with Blythe’s percussive cello to make a demented guitar lead far more unsettling.2 Some listeners will miss the brighter, more melodically commanding presence of the violin. The Convalescence Agonies more than makes up for Eygenhuysen’s absence, however, with its wider array of sonic textures.

As Moore howls on the title track, the body’s pain ‘teaches nothing…no gift / But the passion of transfiguration.’3 Pain may not teach anything to the suffering speaker or Moore himself, but The Convalescence Agonies teaches us that Weepings Sores is one of the most promising contemporary death-doom projects. Moore and Schwegler have transfigured False Confession into something more beautiful without sacrificing their disgustingly awesome death metal core. Sadly, this TYMHM treatment may not arrive in time to register during Listurnalia. Consider, then, The Convalescence Agonies an honorary Honorable Mention for me (and several others around here, I suspect).

Tracks to Check Out: “Arctic Summer,” “Sprawl in the City of Sorrow,” “The Convalescence Agonies”

#2025 #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #IVoidhangerRecords #MorbidAngel #MyDyingBride #Pyrrhon #Scarcity #TheConvalescenceAgonies #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #TYMHM #USMetal #WeepingSores

Clouds – Desprins [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

By Thus Spoke

Those of you who have been paying close attention may remember that Clouds’ 2021 album Despǎrțire was the subject of my very first review here at AMG; a review that in my n00bish naïveté, I appended with a 4.5. I don’t regret it, but will admit the name Clouds had faded a little in my mind before a sudden and apparently unannounced drop of Desprins back in January caused all the sweet sadness to come flooding back. The distinctive shroud of flute-accented darkness fell instantly. At once I was transported back to that November evening I first listened to Clouds, gazing out of the train window at the blackness beyond.

Desprins is transportive not simply as a continuation of Clouds’ endless journey of despair, but as an extension of it. Heavier and simultaneously more reflective than Despǎrțire, it channels the group’s black, choked funeral doom through a spacious synth veil recalling their earliest material, but now more confidently and atmospherically woven. The duality between the heaviest and gentlest aspects—a tension Clouds have always experimented with—is sharpened. The grittiness of the metal, the plaintiveness of the singing, and airiness of the acoustic instruments are more stark, but in a way that balances the musical and emotional waves of tension and release. In a limbo of atmosphere, Daniel Neagoe tells us in solemn whispers what he elsewhere expresses with pained cries and guttural roars; heavy riffs lift and drums slip away at bar’s end for a piano to take the lead; quiet softly crescendoes back on the ascent of a flute: all flow and fade inevitably out of each other.

One could argue that the congruence of Desprins’ apparently disparate musical elements owes its existence to how straightforwardly, heartbreakingly beautiful the melodies thus forged are. Whether first announced by a flute (“Disguise”), a piano (“Unanswered”), synth (“Life Becomes Lifeless”) or a guitar (“Chain Me,” “Chasing Ghosts”), all players pull on the thread of the theme before long. The chasms that come from marrying guitar chords with flute (“Life Becomes Lifeless,” “Forge Another Nightmare”), and opening out to stripped-back synth and apathetic cleans, when you can hear every touch on the keys and feel the impact of every drumbeat, are profound musically and emotionally. These are the kinds of passages designed for wistful staring into the middle distance, whose pathos is so acute, it’s almost unfair. “Life Becomes Lifeless,” “Chain Me,” and the finale of “Chasing Ghosts” are especially potent. With a seemingly more sparse soundscape, they achieve what Shape of Despair do with a more grandiose one. I am, admittedly, a crybaby, but Clouds’ ability to bring me to tears in a more melancholic frame of mind is something I hold in high esteem.

Perhaps more so than before, Clouds’ latest incarnation is something that either really works for you or really doesn’t. I’m obviously in the former camp. Like other funeral doom acts, and analogously dolorous music, the portal of sadness they create is effective only insofar as it can pull its listener in. Desprins sees a doubling-down on everything that might make Clouds hard to listen to—the misery, the polarity between the crushing and uplifting—but its execution only makes this project more unique and more uniquely captivating.

Tracks to Check Out: ”Disguise,” “Life Becomes Lifeless,” “Forge Another Nightmare,” “Chasing Ghosts.”

#2025 #Clouds #DeathDoom #Desprins #Doom #DoomDeath #FuneralDoom #RomanianMetal #ShapeOfDespair #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025

Gloombound – Dreaming Delusion [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

By Killjoy

Funeral doom metal is a subgenre that, when executed properly, is fertile ground for stimulating the listener’s imagination. Perhaps this is because the glacial pace offers ample room for the mind to wander. Perhaps it’s because the music focuses more on deliberate mood than mindblowing technicality. With the right album artwork to gaze at, the experience is particularly immersive.1 While the music that Gloombound plays may be sonically closer to death-doom, it is composed with the same painstaking attention to detail as the best funeral doom. And the fact that Dreaming Delusion is the debut record of this young group from Oslo, Norway, makes this even more impressive.

We tend to use the word cavernous a lot when describing death-doom, but the very compositions of Dreaming Delusion evoke an actual cave. This is particularly true of the guitarwork. Solitary notes and arpeggios trickle like drips of water from stalactites (“An Eternity of Complete Acquiescence”). The jagged death-doom surfaces melt into melodies that are smooth as the glassy surface of a subterranean lake (“Luminary Dissolution”). The lush yet explosive guitar solo midway through “Dreaming Delusion” hits like a sudden burst of sunlight after a rockfall, reminiscent of the fretwork in Worm’s Foreverglade. The sum total could very well be a sibling of Dream Unending’s dreamy despondency.

Yet, unlike Dream Unending, Gloombound seeks to crush the listener’s spirits just as much as their eardrums. Dreaming Delusion tantalizingly oscillates between despair and hope. The two vocalists, Mina Halvorsen and Emma Theneus Sønstebø, form a twisted, echoing call and response before the music slips into a psychedelic pool of keys and fretless bass (“At the Precipice to Longinquity”). These quieter, contemplative moments are crucial beyond merely adding beauty. Far from a meaningless acoustic guitar interlude, “Salvation” is instead a welcome respite from the psychic assault, for which the listener is punished more intensely by the rattling riffs and growls of “Luminary Dissolution.” Over the course of 44 minutes, the hope for escape gradually drowns, giving way to anguish and finally blossoming into serene acceptance during the final notes of concluding track “Dreaming Delusion.”

Dreaming Delusion is as psychological as it is emotive. It truly feels like the mental unraveling of a soul trapped in a metaphorical cave. Every element of the instrumentation, from the guitar structure to the haunting organs to the fretless bass, combine to create a rich sound that is somehow both full and cavernous. The vocals are both oppressive and harrowing, with lots of variation and expressiveness. I’m impressed by how mature Gloombound sounds in both songwriting and performance on their first attempt. What do you do when your mind betrays you? Dreaming Delusion offers no answers, only catharsis.

Tracks to Check Out: “An Eternity of Complete Acquiescence,” “Dreaming Delusion”

#2025 #Atramentus #DeathDoom #DreamUnending #DreamingDelusion #FuneralDoom #Gloombound #GruesomeRecords #NorwegianMetal #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #TYMHM #Worm

Auch in diesem Jahr poste ich wieder meine angehörten Alben in 2025 als Cover. Die Reihenfolge ist rein zufällig und stellt keine Wertung dar.

#Album2025 #AlbumsOf2025 #album #cover #musik #musique #music

005. Paradise Lost "Ascension"

#metal #gothicmetal #doommetal #deathdoom #darkrock #alternativerock #rock #rockmusic

Sun of the Dying – A Throne of Ashes Review

By Thus Spoke

Autumn is well and truly here, so it’s about time I reviewed some doom. Though my ears have been diverted towards certain listworthy death/black drops these past few weeks, the pull of the gloom grows stronger in proportion with the shortening of the days. But rather than the icy climes of Scandinavia, or wintry North America, or even rainy old England, my long-awaited dose of darkness came from Spain. In less than three-quarters of an hour, Madrid’s Sun of the Dying proved that you don’t need miserable, cold weather to make music about misery. A Throne of Ashes, the group’s third LP, is a bold, strong, and stirring mélange of death-doom styles that both filled the void in my musical life and made me downright embarrassed not to have listened to them before.

Sun of the Dying borrow from across the spectrum to craft their compositions, creating richly layered soundscapes. Gracing soaring melodies with dolorous piano, they channel Swallow the Sun on the highs, and Endonomos on the lows. Sweetly sad strings and soft singing recall My Dying Bride, and a duet over warm, vibrating chords and resonant atmosphere Draconian.1 But all this familiarity detracts not one iota from the authenticity of A Throne of Ashes; if anything, it makes it easier to love. By combining the best aspects of these influences with a heavy dose of character, Sun of the Dying make them their own, constructing a powerful whole that simply oozes feeling and personality.

As an indicator of how well A Throne of Ashes communicates emotion by way of staggering death-doom, it contains not just one, but two Song-o-the-year list contenders. Contender one, opener “Martyrs,” had me sitting back in my chair completely still, to give it my full attention. Its graceful dynamism between uplifting guitars and hushed cymbal, narrated by Eduardo Guilló’s beautiful singing and untempered roars, is matched for pathos only by fellow highlight “House of Asterion.” The latter leans into the orchestral more heavily, accenting melancholy descents with ever more dramatic flourishes of strings in a way designed to stamp them into the listener’s heart. These two exemplify Sun of the Dying’s knack for creating depth of feeling and composition with careful weaving of delicacy and sturdiness— the mark of all great doom. As refrains pass between piano, synths, and guitar, they wax, wane, and build gracefully. Spacious resonance over which solo piano (“With Wings Aflame,” “Of Absence”) or strumming, or the sounds of someone sobbing (“Of Absence”) float over and bleed into, prefigures or breaks the gradual escalation into screaming strings (“The House of Asterion”), or white-hot tremolo (“Martyrs”), or the blows of shuddering riff and cymbal (“The Longest Winter,” “Of Absence”). The fullness of even the quieter moments, with bittersweet melodies detailed with touches of choir and orchestrals and multi-tracked vocals and the warm heartbeat of percussion, makes the experience powerfully immersive, heightening the climaxes and deepening the nadirs.

So strong is Sun of the Dying’s ability to draw its listener in and wring their heart out that one almost forgives their occasional structural missteps. Advance track “Black Birds Beneath Your Sky” is a crushing slab of comparatively aggressive doom-death whose string-swelling, group-sung chorus yet exemplifies most explicitly the anthemic feel that other songs hint at. It’s a good song—particularly in its more soaring second act—but it sits awkwardly between the mournful “Martyrs” and “With Wings Aflame,” suddenly brushing aside the rapturous mist of sadness only for it to descend again right after. Its mood-breaking grit is echoed, albeit faintly, by “The Greatest Winter,”‘s more grey and stolid riffing, and there’s the quiet sensation that the pair don’t quite belong with their more sombre companions. Without them, however, the album would be very short, and so rather than removing them, their use of dark and light, soft and heavy elements might simply need to be adjusted.

Even if its atmosphere isn’t perfectly sealed, A Throne of Ashes proves transportive and engrossing all the same. Heartfelt and compelling, it distils an ideal of modern doom and had me scrambling to hear Sun of the Dying’s back catalogue. Don’t let the year end without a walk on a grey day and A Throne of Ashes in your ears.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: November 21st, 2025

#2025 #35 #aThroneOfAshes #aopRecords #deathDoom #doomMetal #draconian #endonomos #myDyingBride #nov25 #review #reviews #spanishMetal #sunOfTheDying #swallowTheSun

Sun of the Dying – A Throne of Ashes Review

By Thus Spoke

Autumn is well and truly here, so it’s about time I reviewed some doom. Though my ears have been diverted towards certain listworthy death/black drops these past few weeks, the pull of the gloom grows stronger in proportion with the shortening of the days. But rather than the icy climes of Scandinavia, or wintry North America, or even rainy old England, my long-awaited dose of darkness came from Spain. In less than three-quarters of an hour, Madrid’s Sun of the Dying proved that you don’t need miserable, cold weather to make music about misery. A Throne of Ashes, the group’s third LP, is a bold, strong, and stirring mélange of death-doom styles that both filled the void in my musical life and made me downright embarrassed not to have listened to them before.

Sun of the Dying borrow from across the spectrum to craft their compositions, creating richly layered soundscapes. Gracing soaring melodies with dolorous piano, they channel Swallow the Sun on the highs, and Endonomos on the lows. Sweetly sad strings and soft singing recall My Dying Bride, and a duet over warm, vibrating chords and resonant atmosphere Draconian.1 But all this familiarity detracts not one iota from the authenticity of A Throne of Ashes; if anything, it makes it easier to love. By combining the best aspects of these influences with a heavy dose of character, Sun of the Dying make them their own, constructing a powerful whole that simply oozes feeling and personality.

As an indicator of how well A Throne of Ashes communicates emotion by way of staggering death-doom, it contains not just one, but two Song-o-the-year list contenders. Contender one, opener “Martyrs,” had me sitting back in my chair completely still, to give it my full attention. Its graceful dynamism between uplifting guitars and hushed cymbal, narrated by Eduardo Guilló’s beautiful singing and untempered roars, is matched for pathos only by fellow highlight “House of Asterion.” The latter leans into the orchestral more heavily, accenting melancholy descents with ever more dramatic flourishes of strings in a way designed to stamp them into the listener’s heart. These two exemplify Sun of the Dying’s knack for creating depth of feeling and composition with careful weaving of delicacy and sturdiness— the mark of all great doom. As refrains pass between piano, synths, and guitar, they wax, wane, and build gracefully. Spacious resonance over which solo piano (“With Wings Aflame,” “Of Absence”) or strumming, or the sounds of someone sobbing (“Of Absence”) float over and bleed into, prefigures or breaks the gradual escalation into screaming strings (“The House of Asterion”), or white-hot tremolo (“Martyrs”), or the blows of shuddering riff and cymbal (“The Longest Winter,” “Of Absence”). The fullness of even the quieter moments, with bittersweet melodies detailed with touches of choir and orchestrals and multi-tracked vocals and the warm heartbeat of percussion, makes the experience powerfully immersive, heightening the climaxes and deepening the nadirs.

So strong is Sun of the Dying’s ability to draw its listener in and wring their heart out that one almost forgives their occasional structural missteps. Advance track “Black Birds Beneath Your Sky” is a crushing slab of comparatively aggressive doom-death whose string-swelling, group-sung chorus yet exemplifies most explicitly the anthemic feel that other songs hint at. It’s a good song—particularly in its more soaring second act—but it sits awkwardly between the mournful “Martyrs” and “With Wings Aflame,” suddenly brushing aside the rapturous mist of sadness only for it to descend again right after. Its mood-breaking grit is echoed, albeit faintly, by “The Greatest Winter,”‘s more grey and stolid riffing, and there’s the quiet sensation that the pair don’t quite belong with their more sombre companions. Without them, however, the album would be very short, and so rather than removing them, their use of dark and light, soft and heavy elements might simply need to be adjusted.

Even if its atmosphere isn’t perfectly sealed, A Throne of Ashes proves transportive and engrossing all the same. Heartfelt and compelling, it distils an ideal of modern doom and had me scrambling to hear Sun of the Dying’s back catalogue. Don’t let the year end without a walk on a grey day and A Throne of Ashes in your ears.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: November 21st, 2025

#2025 #35 #aThroneOfAshes #aopRecords #deathDoom #doomMetal #draconian #endonomos #myDyingBride #nov25 #review #reviews #spanishMetal #sunOfTheDying #swallowTheSun

Sun of the Dying – A Throne of Ashes Review

By Thus Spoke

Autumn is well and truly here, so it’s about time I reviewed some doom. Though my ears have been diverted towards certain listworthy death/black drops these past few weeks, the pull of the gloom grows stronger in proportion with the shortening of the days. But rather than the icy climes of Scandinavia, or wintry North America, or even rainy old England, my long-awaited dose of darkness came from Spain. In less than three-quarters of an hour, Madrid’s Sun of the Dying proved that you don’t need miserable, cold weather to make music about misery. A Throne of Ashes, the group’s third LP, is a bold, strong, and stirring mélange of death-doom styles that both filled the void in my musical life and made me downright embarrassed not to have listened to them before.

Sun of the Dying borrow from across the spectrum to craft their compositions, creating richly layered soundscapes. Gracing soaring melodies with dolorous piano, they channel Swallow the Sun on the highs, and Endonomos on the lows. Sweetly sad strings and soft singing recall My Dying Bride, and a duet over warm, vibrating chords and resonant atmosphere Draconian.1 But all this familiarity detracts not one iota from the authenticity of A Throne of Ashes; if anything, it makes it easier to love. By combining the best aspects of these influences with a heavy dose of character, Sun of the Dying make them their own, constructing a powerful whole that simply oozes feeling and personality.

As an indicator of how well A Throne of Ashes communicates emotion by way of staggering death-doom, it contains not just one, but two Song-o-the-year list contenders. Contender one, opener “Martyrs,” had me sitting back in my chair completely still, to give it my full attention. Its graceful dynamism between uplifting guitars and hushed cymbal, narrated by Eduardo Guilló’s beautiful singing and untempered roars, is matched for pathos only by fellow highlight “House of Asterion.” The latter leans into the orchestral more heavily, accenting melancholy descents with ever more dramatic flourishes of strings in a way designed to stamp them into the listener’s heart. These two exemplify Sun of the Dying’s knack for creating depth of feeling and composition with careful weaving of delicacy and sturdiness— the mark of all great doom. As refrains pass between piano, synths, and guitar, they wax, wane, and build gracefully. Spacious resonance over which solo piano (“With Wings Aflame,” “Of Absence”) or strumming, or the sounds of someone sobbing (“Of Absence”) float over and bleed into, prefigures or breaks the gradual escalation into screaming strings (“The House of Asterion”), or white-hot tremolo (“Martyrs”), or the blows of shuddering riff and cymbal (“The Longest Winter,” “Of Absence”). The fullness of even the quieter moments, with bittersweet melodies detailed with touches of choir and orchestrals and multi-tracked vocals and the warm heartbeat of percussion, makes the experience powerfully immersive, heightening the climaxes and deepening the nadirs.

So strong is Sun of the Dying’s ability to draw its listener in and wring their heart out that one almost forgives their occasional structural missteps. Advance track “Black Birds Beneath Your Sky” is a crushing slab of comparatively aggressive doom-death whose string-swelling, group-sung chorus yet exemplifies most explicitly the anthemic feel that other songs hint at. It’s a good song—particularly in its more soaring second act—but it sits awkwardly between the mournful “Martyrs” and “With Wings Aflame,” suddenly brushing aside the rapturous mist of sadness only for it to descend again right after. Its mood-breaking grit is echoed, albeit faintly, by “The Greatest Winter,”‘s more grey and stolid riffing, and there’s the quiet sensation that the pair don’t quite belong with their more sombre companions. Without them, however, the album would be very short, and so rather than removing them, their use of dark and light, soft and heavy elements might simply need to be adjusted.

Even if its atmosphere isn’t perfectly sealed, A Throne of Ashes proves transportive and engrossing all the same. Heartfelt and compelling, it distils an ideal of modern doom and had me scrambling to hear Sun of the Dying’s back catalogue. Don’t let the year end without a walk on a grey day and A Throne of Ashes in your ears.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: November 21st, 2025

#2025 #35 #aThroneOfAshes #aopRecords #deathDoom #doomMetal #draconian #endonomos #myDyingBride #nov25 #review #reviews #spanishMetal #sunOfTheDying #swallowTheSun

Sun of the Dying – A Throne of Ashes Review

By Thus Spoke

Autumn is well and truly here, so it’s about time I reviewed some doom. Though my ears have been diverted towards certain listworthy death/black drops these past few weeks, the pull of the gloom grows stronger in proportion with the shortening of the days. But rather than the icy climes of Scandinavia, or wintry North America, or even rainy old England, my long-awaited dose of darkness came from Spain. In less than three-quarters of an hour, Madrid’s Sun of the Dying proved that you don’t need miserable, cold weather to make music about misery. A Throne of Ashes, the group’s third LP, is a bold, strong, and stirring mélange of death-doom styles that both filled the void in my musical life and made me downright embarrassed not to have listened to them before.

Sun of the Dying borrow from across the spectrum to craft their compositions, creating richly layered soundscapes. Gracing soaring melodies with dolorous piano, they channel Swallow the Sun on the highs, and Endonomos on the lows. Sweetly sad strings and soft singing recall My Dying Bride, and a duet over warm, vibrating chords and resonant atmosphere Draconian.1 But all this familiarity detracts not one iota from the authenticity of A Throne of Ashes; if anything, it makes it easier to love. By combining the best aspects of these influences with a heavy dose of character, Sun of the Dying make them their own, constructing a powerful whole that simply oozes feeling and personality.

As an indicator of how well A Throne of Ashes communicates emotion by way of staggering death-doom, it contains not just one, but two Song-o-the-year list contenders. Contender one, opener “Martyrs,” had me sitting back in my chair completely still, to give it my full attention. Its graceful dynamism between uplifting guitars and hushed cymbal, narrated by Eduardo Guilló’s beautiful singing and untempered roars, is matched for pathos only by fellow highlight “House of Asterion.” The latter leans into the orchestral more heavily, accenting melancholy descents with ever more dramatic flourishes of strings in a way designed to stamp them into the listener’s heart. These two exemplify Sun of the Dying’s knack for creating depth of feeling and composition with careful weaving of delicacy and sturdiness— the mark of all great doom. As refrains pass between piano, synths, and guitar, they wax, wane, and build gracefully. Spacious resonance over which solo piano (“With Wings Aflame,” “Of Absence”) or strumming, or the sounds of someone sobbing (“Of Absence”) float over and bleed into, prefigures or breaks the gradual escalation into screaming strings (“The House of Asterion”), or white-hot tremolo (“Martyrs”), or the blows of shuddering riff and cymbal (“The Longest Winter,” “Of Absence”). The fullness of even the quieter moments, with bittersweet melodies detailed with touches of choir and orchestrals and multi-tracked vocals and the warm heartbeat of percussion, makes the experience powerfully immersive, heightening the climaxes and deepening the nadirs.

So strong is Sun of the Dying’s ability to draw its listener in and wring their heart out that one almost forgives their occasional structural missteps. Advance track “Black Birds Beneath Your Sky” is a crushing slab of comparatively aggressive doom-death whose string-swelling, group-sung chorus yet exemplifies most explicitly the anthemic feel that other songs hint at. It’s a good song—particularly in its more soaring second act—but it sits awkwardly between the mournful “Martyrs” and “With Wings Aflame,” suddenly brushing aside the rapturous mist of sadness only for it to descend again right after. Its mood-breaking grit is echoed, albeit faintly, by “The Greatest Winter,”‘s more grey and stolid riffing, and there’s the quiet sensation that the pair don’t quite belong with their more sombre companions. Without them, however, the album would be very short, and so rather than removing them, their use of dark and light, soft and heavy elements might simply need to be adjusted.

Even if its atmosphere isn’t perfectly sealed, A Throne of Ashes proves transportive and engrossing all the same. Heartfelt and compelling, it distils an ideal of modern doom and had me scrambling to hear Sun of the Dying’s back catalogue. Don’t let the year end without a walk on a grey day and A Throne of Ashes in your ears.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: November 21st, 2025

#2025 #35 #aThroneOfAshes #aopRecords #deathDoom #doomMetal #draconian #endonomos #myDyingBride #nov25 #review #reviews #spanishMetal #sunOfTheDying #swallowTheSun

Sun of the Dying – A Throne of Ashes Review

By Thus Spoke

Autumn is well and truly here, so it’s about time I reviewed some doom. Though my ears have been diverted towards certain listworthy death/black drops these past few weeks, the pull of the gloom grows stronger in proportion with the shortening of the days. But rather than the icy climes of Scandinavia, or wintry North America, or even rainy old England, my long-awaited dose of darkness came from Spain. In less than three-quarters of an hour, Madrid’s Sun of the Dying proved that you don’t need miserable, cold weather to make music about misery. A Throne of Ashes, the group’s third LP, is a bold, strong, and stirring mélange of death-doom styles that both filled the void in my musical life and made me downright embarrassed not to have listened to them before.

Sun of the Dying borrow from across the spectrum to craft their compositions, creating richly layered soundscapes. Gracing soaring melodies with dolorous piano, they channel Swallow the Sun on the highs, and Endonomos on the lows. Sweetly sad strings and soft singing recall My Dying Bride, and a duet over warm, vibrating chords and resonant atmosphere Draconian.1 But all this familiarity detracts not one iota from the authenticity of A Throne of Ashes; if anything, it makes it easier to love. By combining the best aspects of these influences with a heavy dose of character, Sun of the Dying make them their own, constructing a powerful whole that simply oozes feeling and personality.

As an indicator of how well A Throne of Ashes communicates emotion by way of staggering death-doom, it contains not just one, but two Song-o-the-year list contenders. Contender one, opener “Martyrs,” had me sitting back in my chair completely still, to give it my full attention. Its graceful dynamism between uplifting guitars and hushed cymbal, narrated by Eduardo Guilló’s beautiful singing and untempered roars, is matched for pathos only by fellow highlight “House of Asterion.” The latter leans into the orchestral more heavily, accenting melancholy descents with ever more dramatic flourishes of strings in a way designed to stamp them into the listener’s heart. These two exemplify Sun of the Dying’s knack for creating depth of feeling and composition with careful weaving of delicacy and sturdiness— the mark of all great doom. As refrains pass between piano, synths, and guitar, they wax, wane, and build gracefully. Spacious resonance over which solo piano (“With Wings Aflame,” “Of Absence”) or strumming, or the sounds of someone sobbing (“Of Absence”) float over and bleed into, prefigures or breaks the gradual escalation into screaming strings (“The House of Asterion”), or white-hot tremolo (“Martyrs”), or the blows of shuddering riff and cymbal (“The Longest Winter,” “Of Absence”). The fullness of even the quieter moments, with bittersweet melodies detailed with touches of choir and orchestrals and multi-tracked vocals and the warm heartbeat of percussion, makes the experience powerfully immersive, heightening the climaxes and deepening the nadirs.

So strong is Sun of the Dying’s ability to draw its listener in and wring their heart out that one almost forgives their occasional structural missteps. Advance track “Black Birds Beneath Your Sky” is a crushing slab of comparatively aggressive doom-death whose string-swelling, group-sung chorus yet exemplifies most explicitly the anthemic feel that other songs hint at. It’s a good song—particularly in its more soaring second act—but it sits awkwardly between the mournful “Martyrs” and “With Wings Aflame,” suddenly brushing aside the rapturous mist of sadness only for it to descend again right after. Its mood-breaking grit is echoed, albeit faintly, by “The Greatest Winter,”‘s more grey and stolid riffing, and there’s the quiet sensation that the pair don’t quite belong with their more sombre companions. Without them, however, the album would be very short, and so rather than removing them, their use of dark and light, soft and heavy elements might simply need to be adjusted.

Even if its atmosphere isn’t perfectly sealed, A Throne of Ashes proves transportive and engrossing all the same. Heartfelt and compelling, it distils an ideal of modern doom and had me scrambling to hear Sun of the Dying’s back catalogue. Don’t let the year end without a walk on a grey day and A Throne of Ashes in your ears.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: November 21st, 2025

#2025 #35 #aThroneOfAshes #aopRecords #deathDoom #doomMetal #draconian #endonomos #myDyingBride #nov25 #review #reviews #spanishMetal #sunOfTheDying #swallowTheSun

Stuck in the Filter: September 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

At last, a burst of cool calms the blood after a brutal summer, and the leaves are turning. Which means I was able to recruit a bunch of grubby little leaf-lookers off the highway to serve as minions to my ever-needy Filter! With a temporarily replenished staff of fools who are unwittingly risking their lives for mere nuggets, I conduct with renewed vigor the search for quality finds.

Today, I bring you those finds, in all of their sparkly glory. WITNESS THEM!

Kenstrosity’s Jaunty Juke

Jordsjuk // Naglet til livet [September 19th, 2025 – Indie Recordings]

The lack of conversation I’ve seen surrounding this Norwegian black metal riff machine is highly disconcerting. Brought to my attention by my wonderfully wise—and devilshly handsome—owlpal1 from… GASP… another blog, Jordsjuk’s debut LP Naglet til livet has my spine whipping to a fro from the onset of ripping opener “Kollaps.” The whiplash doesn’t stop there as thrashy numbers “Grovt skadeverk” and “Skreddersøm” body me against several walls and even a couple of ceilings. For 36 relentless minutes, with only one song pushing the four minute mark, Naglet til livet is an unqualified triumph of editing and tight, effective songwriting. My immediate comparison is 2007-2013 Skeletonwitch, but some of these riffs, like the turbobangers on “Parasitt,” “Rottebitt,” “Klarhet og dybde,” and “Rennestein,” give those hallowed skellybois a serious run for their money. When they aren’t thrashing, Jordsjuk shift into a dour, but still ravenous black metal shadow. Wraiths like “Riv skorpen av såret” and “Svikter din neste” showcase this looming character quite well, and prove Jordsjuk to be dynamic, versatile songwriters. In short, Naglet til livet is a raucous good time for anyone craving black metal with sharp teeth and limitless energy.

Baguette’s Bouncy Blessing

Arjen Anthony Lucassen // Songs No One Will Hear [September 12th, 2025 – Inside Out Music]

A year without an Arjen record would be a much lesser one. It’s not often the crazy Dutchman reuses a non-Ayreon project title, but here we have his fourth solo album becoming the second under the full Arjen Anthony Lucassen name! Dropping 13 years after the previous one, Songs No One Will Hear announces the end of the world is a mere five months away, its tracks depicting the resulting stages of chaos, disarray, and human silliness. It doesn’t fall far off the catchy and melodic Arjen tree but casts a wider net than prior prog rock adventures. Much of the record reflects different eras of Ayreon, including the ’70s prog whimsy of Into the Electric Castle (“Dr. Slumber’s Blue Bus”) and the fun ’80s metal edge of The Source (“Goddamn Conspiracy”). Closing epic “Our Final Song” is a microcosm of his musical breadth, shapeshifting from Jethro Tull flute shenanigans to analog synth ambience to dramatic riff bombast at will. But it’s “The Clock Ticks Down” that steals the spotlight, marking a brief return to the dark, somber grit of Guilt Machine and 01011001. It’s an unusually normal-sized album from Mr. Lucassen as well, the regular, unnarrated version being only 46 minutes and change. A condensed, jovial jack-of-all-trades showcase with many of the usual great guest musician and vocalist selections! And it’s always nice to hear him sing more, too.

Thus Spoke’s Lurid Leftovers

Fauna // Ochre and Ash [September 26th, 2025 – Lupus Lounge/Prophecy Productions]

It’s been 13 years since Cascadian black metal duo Fauna released Avifauna, to quiet yet great acclaim. Given their preoccupation with human prehistory, they might just be operating on a larger timescale than you or I. Ochre and Ash—the two main ingredients used in ancient cave paintings—is an attempt to invoke the spirit of forgotten ceremonies during which the stories of the people were immortalised on stone. Building on an atmospheric black metal base familiar in their better-known exemplars Wolves in the Throne Room and Agalloch, Fauna give Ochre and Ash a distinctive edge by roaming further afield into the experimental. For every metal-dominated track (“Nature & Madness,” “Labyrinths,” “Eternal Return”), there is an ambient, decidedly unsettling counterpart (“A Conjuring,” “Femoral Sun,” “Mockery”), and the latter are not interludes, but integral parts of the ritual. Each infuses skin-prickling drone with eerie chimes and rattles, and uncomfortable vocalisations ranging from moans and wails to laughter and the howling, yipping cries of animals—or humans mimicking them. In their repetition of haunting, hollow sounds, they are both frightening and trance-inducing. Ochre and Ash’s metallic segments are no less ominous, treading as they do between confrontationally turbulent atmoblack2 and diSEMBOWELMENT-adjacent death doom that puts me right back in the void of madness last year’s Spectral Voice generated. This is not a casual listen, and Fauna could have helped it a bit with some editing, as the weirdness combined with an excessive 70-minute runtime makes some longer passages feel tired and could be off-putting to some. Still, it’s an experience I’d recommend trying at least once.

Spicie Forrest’s Sautéed Surplus

Piece // Rambler’s Axe [September 5th, 2025 – This Charming Man Records]

Finding gym metal has always proven difficult for me. It’s not about the fastest or loudest, but about striking a balance between weight and pace. Rambler’s Axe fits the bill nicely. Influenced by the likes of Crowbar and High on Fire, these Berlin-based doomsters peddle raucous and sludgy heavy metal. There’s a bit of Conan in Piece’s DNA, too, making sure to worship each riff long enough for you to make it through any given set. Beefy basslines and aggressive, chiseled drums make it easy to drop into a groove and get your pump on. Faster cuts like “Demigod” and “Rambler’s Axe” go great with chest flies and leg press, but they’ve got tracks for bench press and deadlifts too. “Bastard Sword” and “Owl Eyes” rumble forward like the slow but inevitable rise of the barbell at max weight. Whether marching or running, baritone shouts like tank treads hang over riffs just looking for an excuse to blow off steam. Whatever your reason for visiting the glorious house of gains, Piece has your soundtrack covered.

Heruvim // Mercator [September 12th, 2025 – Self-Release]

As each passing year leaves the almighty Bolt Thrower further in the past, the yearning for that sound grows. I was quite surprised to find a small amount of solace in Heruvim, hailing from Odesa, Ukraine. I say small solace, because debut LP Mercator is more than just a clone. Augmented with the unsettling atmosphere of early Pestilence and the vocal malevolence of Sinister, this platter of old school death metal carves its own niche in a storied scene. Off-kilter leads bubble up and spew out of a murky, tarred rhythm section like prehistoric gases in a primordial soup (“Gnosis,” “Lacrimae Rerum”). Lachrymose, doom-laden passages and violent death threats trade back and forth, anchored by volatile blast beats and percussive assaults in the vein of Cannibal Corpse (“Nulla Res,” “Mercator”). Stitched together with eerie, short-and-sweet interludes, Mercator’s lean 30 minutes fly by and always leave me itching for more. Heruvim riffs on a slew of classic sounds, creating a casual brutality and primal barbarism that is both compelling and uniquely their own.

ClarkKent’s Melodic Monstrosities

Galundo Tenvulance // Insomnis Somnia [September 17th, 2025 – Spiritual Beast Records]

Falling somewhere between symphonic deathcore acts Assemble the Chariots and Grimnis enters Japan’s Galundo Tenvulance. On their second full-length LP, Insomnis Somnia, the sextet demonstrates raw power and frenetic energy throughout its 41-minute runtime. Songs are anchored by catchy melodic leads, atmospheric symphonies, and punishing, relentless kitwork (no drummer is credited, so hopefully it’s not programmed). Galundo Tenvulance’s new vocalist, Sao, delivers the goods, bringing a spirited energy to her performance that elevates the already terrific material. While the symphonics don’t quite elevate the music the same way they do for Assemble the Chariots, it’s the melodic riffs that make these guys stand out. “Noble Rot” is the highlight, with a killer lead riff that uses harmonics to add just that extra bit of oomph. Other highlights include the catchy “Regret Never Sleeps,” evoking Character-era Dark Tranquillity, and “In The Realms of the Unreal,” which demonstrates their ability to transform solos into surprising melodies. This might be too good to have landed in the filter, but with my TYMHM slots filled up, it’s better than nothing.

Mortal Scepter // Ethereal Dominance [September 9th, 2025 – Xtreem Music]

As if we didn’t have enough thrash floating in the filter, French outfit Mortal Scepter finds itself as yet another piece of thrash dredged from the muck. This quartet has been around since 2012, yet Ethereal Dominance is only their second full-length release. Their sound lands somewhere between the melodic thrash of Bloodletter and the mania of Deathhammer—though a touch less zany. The persistent level of energy these bands can maintain never ceases to amaze me. While the constant beat of drum blasts threatens to make thrash songs sound too similar, the variety of melodies Mortal Scepter delivers ensures that things never grow repetitive. They have a raw, blackened sound that feels immediate and in your face. Drummer Guillaume keeps an impressive pace with fresh-sounding, nonstop blast beats, while vocalist Lucas Scellier snarls with enthusiasm, with a voice comparable to Deathhammer’s Sergeant Salsten. However, it’s the guitars by Maxime and Scellier that really bring the band to life, from the noodly melodies to the dynamic, lengthy, and impressive solos on each song. These guys prove they are more than just simple thrash metallers on the epic thrash, ten-minute finale, “Into the Wolves Den,” which uses a mix of tempo shifts and hooky melodies to make the song just fly by. With this second LP under their belts, these guys have proven themselves an exciting newish band on the thrash scene.

Grin Reaper’s Woodland Windfall

Autrest // Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves [September 5th, 2025 – Northern Silence Productions]

Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves merges atmospheric black metal with nature, resuming Autrest’s vision from debut Follow the Cold Path. Like Saor or Falls of Rauros, stunning melodies play across untamed backdrops that stir heartstrings in unexpected ways. Ethereal keys, mournful strings, and rapid-fire tremolos impeccably capture Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves’ autumnal artwork, bringing Autrest’s imagery to life. Harsh vocals sit back in the mix, evoking windswept trees as cool harvest gusts leach branches of color, while sporadic baritone cleans add variation. “Lobos (Offering)” sets the stage with melancholic guitar plucks bolstered by forlorn strings, giving way to a controlled spark as “Ashes from the Burning Embers” ratchets up roiling vigor. Through forty-two minutes, Autrest expertly guides listeners across shifting landscapes that are delightful in their earnestness. Mastermind Matheus Vidor establishes himself as a preeminent architect of mood, channeling transitions from gentle, wonder-filled serenity to unyielding wrath. The dynamic between aggression and introspection is marvelous, permeating the album with emotion. While I could understand a complaint that some songs blur together, the spirit of Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves is never stale or disposable. Rather, Autrest has taken what began two years ago and enriched it, composing an ode to self-discovery and transformation.3 My own experience with the music conjures wilderness’s last hurrah before succumbing to winter’s embrace. As days grow shorter and temperatures drop,4 I encourage you to seek refuge and draw warmth from these Burning Embers.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Very Not Late Novella

Sterveling // Sterveling [September 26th, 2025 – Self Release]

Between the world of atmospheric and post-tinged black metal, there exists a twisted form of progressive music that teeters about brooding moods and crackling tones to explore shrieking sadness and profound sorrow. Michiel van der Werff (Prospectors, Weltschmerz), primary Dutch proprietor of Sterveling, places his expressive guitar runs and lurching rhythm clangs in the company of trusted friends to carry out his tortured, baroque vision of black metal. Against the hissing design of synth maestro and Prospectors bandmate Matthias Ruijgrok, a fullness and warping warmth pervades the spacious amp textures and muscular rhythmic framework of each piece. And through the bloodied cries of Weltschmerz bandmate Hreim, a vocal lightning flashes to illuminate the nooks between pulsing synth lines and deathly bursts of full tremolo assault. In three longform pieces, all still totaling a generous forty-two minutes, Sterveling tints a monochrome narrative with vibrant shades from thoughtful tones and well-timed, emotional escalations. Committed to each careful iteration on a melody, the woven Sterveling web grows ever stickier with every passing moment, none of the ten-minute-plus excursions ever feeling even close to their declared runtimes. And with a sound construction that hits delicate yet forceful, creaking yet incising, it’s easy to wander through several journeys on this debut outing before realizing what time has passed. Fans of equally forlorn acts like Tongues or Andalvald will feel more at home here than others. But with a tonal palette that’s as inviting as it is crushing, Sterveling should attract the ears of fans across the extreme spectrum.

#2025 #agalloch #americanMetal #andavald #arjenAnthonyLucassen #assembleTheChariots #atmosphericBlackMetal #autrest #ayreon #blackMetal #bloodletter #boltThrower #brazillianMetal #burningEmbersForgottenWolves #cannibalCorpse #conan #crowbar #darkTranquillity #deathDoom #deathMetal #deathcore #deathhammer #disembowelment #doomMetal #dutchMetal #etherealDominance #fallsOfRauros #fauna #frenchMetal #galundoTenvulance #grimnis #guiltMachine #heruvim #highOnFire #independentRelease #indieRecordings #insideoutMusic #insomnisSomnia #japaneseMetal #jethroTull #jordsjuk #lupusLounge #melodicBlackMetal #melodicDeathMetal #melodicThrashMetal #mercator #mortalScepter #nagletTilLivet #northernSilenceProductions #norwegianMetal #ochreAndAsh #pestilence #piece #postBlackMetal #progressiveBlackMetal #progressiveMetal #progressiveRock #prophecyProductions #ramblersAxe #review #reviews #saor #selfRelease #selfReleased #sep25 #sinister #skeletonwitch #sludge #sludgeMetal #songsNoOneWillHear #spectralVoice #sterveling #stuckInTheFilter #stuckInTheFilter2025 #symphonicDeathcore #thisCharmingManRecords #thrashMetal #tongues #ukrainianMetal #wolvesInTheThroneRoom

Stuck in the Filter: September 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

At last, a burst of cool calms the blood after a brutal summer, and the leaves are turning. Which means I was able to recruit a bunch of grubby little leaf-lookers off the highway to serve as minions to my ever-needy Filter! With a temporarily replenished staff of fools who are unwittingly risking their lives for mere nuggets, I conduct with renewed vigor the search for quality finds.

Today, I bring you those finds, in all of their sparkly glory. WITNESS THEM!

Kenstrosity’s Jaunty Juke

Jordsjuk // Naglet til livet [September 19th, 2025 – Indie Recordings]

The lack of conversation I’ve seen surrounding this Norwegian black metal riff machine is highly disconcerting. Brought to my attention by my wonderfully wise—and devilshly handsome—owlpal1 from… GASP… another blog, Jordsjuk’s debut LP Naglet til livet has my spine whipping to a fro from the onset of ripping opener “Kollaps.” The whiplash doesn’t stop there as thrashy numbers “Grovt skadeverk” and “Skreddersøm” body me against several walls and even a couple of ceilings. For 36 relentless minutes, with only one song pushing the four minute mark, Naglet til livet is an unqualified triumph of editing and tight, effective songwriting. My immediate comparison is 2007-2013 Skeletonwitch, but some of these riffs, like the turbobangers on “Parasitt,” “Rottebitt,” “Klarhet og dybde,” and “Rennestein,” give those hallowed skellybois a serious run for their money. When they aren’t thrashing, Jordsjuk shift into a dour, but still ravenous black metal shadow. Wraiths like “Riv skorpen av såret” and “Svikter din neste” showcase this looming character quite well, and prove Jordsjuk to be dynamic, versatile songwriters. In short, Naglet til livet is a raucous good time for anyone craving black metal with sharp teeth and limitless energy.

Baguette’s Bouncy Blessing

Arjen Anthony Lucassen // Songs No One Will Hear [September 12th, 2025 – Inside Out Music]

A year without an Arjen record would be a much lesser one. It’s not often the crazy Dutchman reuses a non-Ayreon project title, but here we have his fourth solo album becoming the second under the full Arjen Anthony Lucassen name! Dropping 13 years after the previous one, Songs No One Will Hear announces the end of the world is a mere five months away, its tracks depicting the resulting stages of chaos, disarray, and human silliness. It doesn’t fall far off the catchy and melodic Arjen tree but casts a wider net than prior prog rock adventures. Much of the record reflects different eras of Ayreon, including the ’70s prog whimsy of Into the Electric Castle (“Dr. Slumber’s Blue Bus”) and the fun ’80s metal edge of The Source (“Goddamn Conspiracy”). Closing epic “Our Final Song” is a microcosm of his musical breadth, shapeshifting from Jethro Tull flute shenanigans to analog synth ambience to dramatic riff bombast at will. But it’s “The Clock Ticks Down” that steals the spotlight, marking a brief return to the dark, somber grit of Guilt Machine and 01011001. It’s an unusually normal-sized album from Mr. Lucassen as well, the regular, unnarrated version being only 46 minutes and change. A condensed, jovial jack-of-all-trades showcase with many of the usual great guest musician and vocalist selections! And it’s always nice to hear him sing more, too.

Thus Spoke’s Lurid Leftovers

Fauna // Ochre and Ash [September 26th, 2025 – Lupus Lounge/Prophecy Productions]

It’s been 13 years since Cascadian black metal duo Fauna released Avifauna, to quiet yet great acclaim. Given their preoccupation with human prehistory, they might just be operating on a larger timescale than you or I. Ochre and Ash—the two main ingredients used in ancient cave paintings—is an attempt to invoke the spirit of forgotten ceremonies during which the stories of the people were immortalised on stone. Building on an atmospheric black metal base familiar in their better-known exemplars Wolves in the Throne Room and Agalloch, Fauna give Ochre and Ash a distinctive edge by roaming further afield into the experimental. For every metal-dominated track (“Nature & Madness,” “Labyrinths,” “Eternal Return”), there is an ambient, decidedly unsettling counterpart (“A Conjuring,” “Femoral Sun,” “Mockery”), and the latter are not interludes, but integral parts of the ritual. Each infuses skin-prickling drone with eerie chimes and rattles, and uncomfortable vocalisations ranging from moans and wails to laughter and the howling, yipping cries of animals—or humans mimicking them. In their repetition of haunting, hollow sounds, they are both frightening and trance-inducing. Ochre and Ash’s metallic segments are no less ominous, treading as they do between confrontationally turbulent atmoblack2 and diSEMBOWELMENT-adjacent death doom that puts me right back in the void of madness last year’s Spectral Voice generated. This is not a casual listen, and Fauna could have helped it a bit with some editing, as the weirdness combined with an excessive 70-minute runtime makes some longer passages feel tired and could be off-putting to some. Still, it’s an experience I’d recommend trying at least once.

Spicie Forrest’s Sautéed Surplus

Piece // Rambler’s Axe [September 5th, 2025 – This Charming Man Records]

Finding gym metal has always proven difficult for me. It’s not about the fastest or loudest, but about striking a balance between weight and pace. Rambler’s Axe fits the bill nicely. Influenced by the likes of Crowbar and High on Fire, these Berlin-based doomsters peddle raucous and sludgy heavy metal. There’s a bit of Conan in Piece’s DNA, too, making sure to worship each riff long enough for you to make it through any given set. Beefy basslines and aggressive, chiseled drums make it easy to drop into a groove and get your pump on. Faster cuts like “Demigod” and “Rambler’s Axe” go great with chest flies and leg press, but they’ve got tracks for bench press and deadlifts too. “Bastard Sword” and “Owl Eyes” rumble forward like the slow but inevitable rise of the barbell at max weight. Whether marching or running, baritone shouts like tank treads hang over riffs just looking for an excuse to blow off steam. Whatever your reason for visiting the glorious house of gains, Piece has your soundtrack covered.

Heruvim // Mercator [September 12th, 2025 – Self-Release]

As each passing year leaves the almighty Bolt Thrower further in the past, the yearning for that sound grows. I was quite surprised to find a small amount of solace in Heruvim, hailing from Odesa, Ukraine. I say small solace, because debut LP Mercator is more than just a clone. Augmented with the unsettling atmosphere of early Pestilence and the vocal malevolence of Sinister, this platter of old school death metal carves its own niche in a storied scene. Off-kilter leads bubble up and spew out of a murky, tarred rhythm section like prehistoric gases in a primordial soup (“Gnosis,” “Lacrimae Rerum”). Lachrymose, doom-laden passages and violent death threats trade back and forth, anchored by volatile blast beats and percussive assaults in the vein of Cannibal Corpse (“Nulla Res,” “Mercator”). Stitched together with eerie, short-and-sweet interludes, Mercator’s lean 30 minutes fly by and always leave me itching for more. Heruvim riffs on a slew of classic sounds, creating a casual brutality and primal barbarism that is both compelling and uniquely their own.

ClarkKent’s Melodic Monstrosities

Galundo Tenvulance // Insomnis Somnia [September 17th, 2025 – Spiritual Beast Records]

Falling somewhere between symphonic deathcore acts Assemble the Chariots and Grimnis enters Japan’s Galundo Tenvulance. On their second full-length LP, Insomnis Somnia, the sextet demonstrates raw power and frenetic energy throughout its 41-minute runtime. Songs are anchored by catchy melodic leads, atmospheric symphonies, and punishing, relentless kitwork (no drummer is credited, so hopefully it’s not programmed). Galundo Tenvulance’s new vocalist, Sao, delivers the goods, bringing a spirited energy to her performance that elevates the already terrific material. While the symphonics don’t quite elevate the music the same way they do for Assemble the Chariots, it’s the melodic riffs that make these guys stand out. “Noble Rot” is the highlight, with a killer lead riff that uses harmonics to add just that extra bit of oomph. Other highlights include the catchy “Regret Never Sleeps,” evoking Character-era Dark Tranquillity, and “In The Realms of the Unreal,” which demonstrates their ability to transform solos into surprising melodies. This might be too good to have landed in the filter, but with my TYMHM slots filled up, it’s better than nothing.

Mortal Scepter // Ethereal Dominance [September 9th, 2025 – Xtreem Music]

As if we didn’t have enough thrash floating in the filter, French outfit Mortal Scepter finds itself as yet another piece of thrash dredged from the muck. This quartet has been around since 2012, yet Ethereal Dominance is only their second full-length release. Their sound lands somewhere between the melodic thrash of Bloodletter and the mania of Deathhammer—though a touch less zany. The persistent level of energy these bands can maintain never ceases to amaze me. While the constant beat of drum blasts threatens to make thrash songs sound too similar, the variety of melodies Mortal Scepter delivers ensures that things never grow repetitive. They have a raw, blackened sound that feels immediate and in your face. Drummer Guillaume keeps an impressive pace with fresh-sounding, nonstop blast beats, while vocalist Lucas Scellier snarls with enthusiasm, with a voice comparable to Deathhammer’s Sergeant Salsten. However, it’s the guitars by Maxime and Scellier that really bring the band to life, from the noodly melodies to the dynamic, lengthy, and impressive solos on each song. These guys prove they are more than just simple thrash metallers on the epic thrash, ten-minute finale, “Into the Wolves Den,” which uses a mix of tempo shifts and hooky melodies to make the song just fly by. With this second LP under their belts, these guys have proven themselves an exciting newish band on the thrash scene.

Grin Reaper’s Woodland Windfall

Autrest // Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves [September 5th, 2025 – Northern Silence Productions]

Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves merges atmospheric black metal with nature, resuming Autrest’s vision from debut Follow the Cold Path. Like Saor or Falls of Rauros, stunning melodies play across untamed backdrops that stir heartstrings in unexpected ways. Ethereal keys, mournful strings, and rapid-fire tremolos impeccably capture Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves’ autumnal artwork, bringing Autrest’s imagery to life. Harsh vocals sit back in the mix, evoking windswept trees as cool harvest gusts leach branches of color, while sporadic baritone cleans add variation. “Lobos (Offering)” sets the stage with melancholic guitar plucks bolstered by forlorn strings, giving way to a controlled spark as “Ashes from the Burning Embers” ratchets up roiling vigor. Through forty-two minutes, Autrest expertly guides listeners across shifting landscapes that are delightful in their earnestness. Mastermind Matheus Vidor establishes himself as a preeminent architect of mood, channeling transitions from gentle, wonder-filled serenity to unyielding wrath. The dynamic between aggression and introspection is marvelous, permeating the album with emotion. While I could understand a complaint that some songs blur together, the spirit of Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves is never stale or disposable. Rather, Autrest has taken what began two years ago and enriched it, composing an ode to self-discovery and transformation.3 My own experience with the music conjures wilderness’s last hurrah before succumbing to winter’s embrace. As days grow shorter and temperatures drop,4 I encourage you to seek refuge and draw warmth from these Burning Embers.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Very Not Late Novella

Sterveling // Sterveling [September 26th, 2025 – Self Release]

Between the world of atmospheric and post-tinged black metal, there exists a twisted form of progressive music that teeters about brooding moods and crackling tones to explore shrieking sadness and profound sorrow. Michiel van der Werff (Prospectors, Weltschmerz), primary Dutch proprietor of Sterveling, places his expressive guitar runs and lurching rhythm clangs in the company of trusted friends to carry out his tortured, baroque vision of black metal. Against the hissing design of synth maestro and Prospectors bandmate Matthias Ruijgrok, a fullness and warping warmth pervades the spacious amp textures and muscular rhythmic framework of each piece. And through the bloodied cries of Weltschmerz bandmate Hreim, a vocal lightning flashes to illuminate the nooks between pulsing synth lines and deathly bursts of full tremolo assault. In three longform pieces, all still totaling a generous forty-two minutes, Sterveling tints a monochrome narrative with vibrant shades from thoughtful tones and well-timed, emotional escalations. Committed to each careful iteration on a melody, the woven Sterveling web grows ever stickier with every passing moment, none of the ten-minute-plus excursions ever feeling even close to their declared runtimes. And with a sound construction that hits delicate yet forceful, creaking yet incising, it’s easy to wander through several journeys on this debut outing before realizing what time has passed. Fans of equally forlorn acts like Tongues or Andalvald will feel more at home here than others. But with a tonal palette that’s as inviting as it is crushing, Sterveling should attract the ears of fans across the extreme spectrum.

#2025 #agalloch #americanMetal #andavald #arjenAnthonyLucassen #assembleTheChariots #atmosphericBlackMetal #autrest #ayreon #blackMetal #bloodletter #boltThrower #brazillianMetal #burningEmbersForgottenWolves #cannibalCorpse #conan #crowbar #darkTranquillity #deathDoom #deathMetal #deathcore #deathhammer #disembowelment #doomMetal #dutchMetal #etherealDominance #fallsOfRauros #fauna #frenchMetal #galundoTenvulance #grimnis #guiltMachine #heruvim #highOnFire #independentRelease #indieRecordings #insideoutMusic #insomnisSomnia #japaneseMetal #jethroTull #jordsjuk #lupusLounge #melodicBlackMetal #melodicDeathMetal #melodicThrashMetal #mercator #mortalScepter #nagletTilLivet #northernSilenceProductions #norwegianMetal #ochreAndAsh #pestilence #piece #postBlackMetal #progressiveBlackMetal #progressiveMetal #progressiveRock #prophecyProductions #ramblersAxe #review #reviews #saor #selfRelease #selfReleased #sep25 #sinister #skeletonwitch #sludge #sludgeMetal #songsNoOneWillHear #spectralVoice #sterveling #stuckInTheFilter #stuckInTheFilter2025 #symphonicDeathcore #thisCharmingManRecords #thrashMetal #tongues #ukrainianMetal #wolvesInTheThroneRoom

Stuck in the Filter: September 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

At last, a burst of cool calms the blood after a brutal summer, and the leaves are turning. Which means I was able to recruit a bunch of grubby little leaf-lookers off the highway to serve as minions to my ever-needy Filter! With a temporarily replenished staff of fools who are unwittingly risking their lives for mere nuggets, I conduct with renewed vigor the search for quality finds.

Today, I bring you those finds, in all of their sparkly glory. WITNESS THEM!

Kenstrosity’s Jaunty Juke

Jordsjuk // Naglet til livet [September 19th, 2025 – Indie Recordings]

The lack of conversation I’ve seen surrounding this Norwegian black metal riff machine is highly disconcerting. Brought to my attention by my wonderfully wise—and devilshly handsome—owlpal1 from… GASP… another blog, Jordsjuk’s debut LP Naglet til livet has my spine whipping to a fro from the onset of ripping opener “Kollaps.” The whiplash doesn’t stop there as thrashy numbers “Grovt skadeverk” and “Skreddersøm” body me against several walls and even a couple of ceilings. For 36 relentless minutes, with only one song pushing the four minute mark, Naglet til livet is an unqualified triumph of editing and tight, effective songwriting. My immediate comparison is 2007-2013 Skeletonwitch, but some of these riffs, like the turbobangers on “Parasitt,” “Rottebitt,” “Klarhet og dybde,” and “Rennestein,” give those hallowed skellybois a serious run for their money. When they aren’t thrashing, Jordsjuk shift into a dour, but still ravenous black metal shadow. Wraiths like “Riv skorpen av såret” and “Svikter din neste” showcase this looming character quite well, and prove Jordsjuk to be dynamic, versatile songwriters. In short, Naglet til livet is a raucous good time for anyone craving black metal with sharp teeth and limitless energy.

Baguette’s Bouncy Blessing

Arjen Anthony Lucassen // Songs No One Will Hear [September 12th, 2025 – Inside Out Music]

A year without an Arjen record would be a much lesser one. It’s not often the crazy Dutchman reuses a non-Ayreon project title, but here we have his fourth solo album becoming the second under the full Arjen Anthony Lucassen name! Dropping 13 years after the previous one, Songs No One Will Hear announces the end of the world is a mere five months away, its tracks depicting the resulting stages of chaos, disarray, and human silliness. It doesn’t fall far off the catchy and melodic Arjen tree but casts a wider net than prior prog rock adventures. Much of the record reflects different eras of Ayreon, including the ’70s prog whimsy of Into the Electric Castle (“Dr. Slumber’s Blue Bus”) and the fun ’80s metal edge of The Source (“Goddamn Conspiracy”). Closing epic “Our Final Song” is a microcosm of his musical breadth, shapeshifting from Jethro Tull flute shenanigans to analog synth ambience to dramatic riff bombast at will. But it’s “The Clock Ticks Down” that steals the spotlight, marking a brief return to the dark, somber grit of Guilt Machine and 01011001. It’s an unusually normal-sized album from Mr. Lucassen as well, the regular, unnarrated version being only 46 minutes and change. A condensed, jovial jack-of-all-trades showcase with many of the usual great guest musician and vocalist selections! And it’s always nice to hear him sing more, too.

Thus Spoke’s Lurid Leftovers

Fauna // Ochre and Ash [September 26th, 2025 – Lupus Lounge/Prophecy Productions]

It’s been 13 years since Cascadian black metal duo Fauna released Avifauna, to quiet yet great acclaim. Given their preoccupation with human prehistory, they might just be operating on a larger timescale than you or I. Ochre and Ash—the two main ingredients used in ancient cave paintings—is an attempt to invoke the spirit of forgotten ceremonies during which the stories of the people were immortalised on stone. Building on an atmospheric black metal base familiar in their better-known exemplars Wolves in the Throne Room and Agalloch, Fauna give Ochre and Ash a distinctive edge by roaming further afield into the experimental. For every metal-dominated track (“Nature & Madness,” “Labyrinths,” “Eternal Return”), there is an ambient, decidedly unsettling counterpart (“A Conjuring,” “Femoral Sun,” “Mockery”), and the latter are not interludes, but integral parts of the ritual. Each infuses skin-prickling drone with eerie chimes and rattles, and uncomfortable vocalisations ranging from moans and wails to laughter and the howling, yipping cries of animals—or humans mimicking them. In their repetition of haunting, hollow sounds, they are both frightening and trance-inducing. Ochre and Ash’s metallic segments are no less ominous, treading as they do between confrontationally turbulent atmoblack2 and diSEMBOWELMENT-adjacent death doom that puts me right back in the void of madness last year’s Spectral Voice generated. This is not a casual listen, and Fauna could have helped it a bit with some editing, as the weirdness combined with an excessive 70-minute runtime makes some longer passages feel tired and could be off-putting to some. Still, it’s an experience I’d recommend trying at least once.

Spicie Forrest’s Sautéed Surplus

Piece // Rambler’s Axe [September 5th, 2025 – This Charming Man Records]

Finding gym metal has always proven difficult for me. It’s not about the fastest or loudest, but about striking a balance between weight and pace. Rambler’s Axe fits the bill nicely. Influenced by the likes of Crowbar and High on Fire, these Berlin-based doomsters peddle raucous and sludgy heavy metal. There’s a bit of Conan in Piece’s DNA, too, making sure to worship each riff long enough for you to make it through any given set. Beefy basslines and aggressive, chiseled drums make it easy to drop into a groove and get your pump on. Faster cuts like “Demigod” and “Rambler’s Axe” go great with chest flies and leg press, but they’ve got tracks for bench press and deadlifts too. “Bastard Sword” and “Owl Eyes” rumble forward like the slow but inevitable rise of the barbell at max weight. Whether marching or running, baritone shouts like tank treads hang over riffs just looking for an excuse to blow off steam. Whatever your reason for visiting the glorious house of gains, Piece has your soundtrack covered.

Heruvim // Mercator [September 12th, 2025 – Self-Release]

As each passing year leaves the almighty Bolt Thrower further in the past, the yearning for that sound grows. I was quite surprised to find a small amount of solace in Heruvim, hailing from Odesa, Ukraine. I say small solace, because debut LP Mercator is more than just a clone. Augmented with the unsettling atmosphere of early Pestilence and the vocal malevolence of Sinister, this platter of old school death metal carves its own niche in a storied scene. Off-kilter leads bubble up and spew out of a murky, tarred rhythm section like prehistoric gases in a primordial soup (“Gnosis,” “Lacrimae Rerum”). Lachrymose, doom-laden passages and violent death threats trade back and forth, anchored by volatile blast beats and percussive assaults in the vein of Cannibal Corpse (“Nulla Res,” “Mercator”). Stitched together with eerie, short-and-sweet interludes, Mercator’s lean 30 minutes fly by and always leave me itching for more. Heruvim riffs on a slew of classic sounds, creating a casual brutality and primal barbarism that is both compelling and uniquely their own.

ClarkKent’s Melodic Monstrosities

Galundo Tenvulance // Insomnis Somnia [September 17th, 2025 – Spiritual Beast Records]

Falling somewhere between symphonic deathcore acts Assemble the Chariots and Grimnis enters Japan’s Galundo Tenvulance. On their second full-length LP, Insomnis Somnia, the sextet demonstrates raw power and frenetic energy throughout its 41-minute runtime. Songs are anchored by catchy melodic leads, atmospheric symphonies, and punishing, relentless kitwork (no drummer is credited, so hopefully it’s not programmed). Galundo Tenvulance’s new vocalist, Sao, delivers the goods, bringing a spirited energy to her performance that elevates the already terrific material. While the symphonics don’t quite elevate the music the same way they do for Assemble the Chariots, it’s the melodic riffs that make these guys stand out. “Noble Rot” is the highlight, with a killer lead riff that uses harmonics to add just that extra bit of oomph. Other highlights include the catchy “Regret Never Sleeps,” evoking Character-era Dark Tranquillity, and “In The Realms of the Unreal,” which demonstrates their ability to transform solos into surprising melodies. This might be too good to have landed in the filter, but with my TYMHM slots filled up, it’s better than nothing.

Mortal Scepter // Ethereal Dominance [September 9th, 2025 – Xtreem Music]

As if we didn’t have enough thrash floating in the filter, French outfit Mortal Scepter finds itself as yet another piece of thrash dredged from the muck. This quartet has been around since 2012, yet Ethereal Dominance is only their second full-length release. Their sound lands somewhere between the melodic thrash of Bloodletter and the mania of Deathhammer—though a touch less zany. The persistent level of energy these bands can maintain never ceases to amaze me. While the constant beat of drum blasts threatens to make thrash songs sound too similar, the variety of melodies Mortal Scepter delivers ensures that things never grow repetitive. They have a raw, blackened sound that feels immediate and in your face. Drummer Guillaume keeps an impressive pace with fresh-sounding, nonstop blast beats, while vocalist Lucas Scellier snarls with enthusiasm, with a voice comparable to Deathhammer’s Sergeant Salsten. However, it’s the guitars by Maxime and Scellier that really bring the band to life, from the noodly melodies to the dynamic, lengthy, and impressive solos on each song. These guys prove they are more than just simple thrash metallers on the epic thrash, ten-minute finale, “Into the Wolves Den,” which uses a mix of tempo shifts and hooky melodies to make the song just fly by. With this second LP under their belts, these guys have proven themselves an exciting newish band on the thrash scene.

Grin Reaper’s Woodland Windfall

Autrest // Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves [September 5th, 2025 – Northern Silence Productions]

Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves merges atmospheric black metal with nature, resuming Autrest’s vision from debut Follow the Cold Path. Like Saor or Falls of Rauros, stunning melodies play across untamed backdrops that stir heartstrings in unexpected ways. Ethereal keys, mournful strings, and rapid-fire tremolos impeccably capture Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves’ autumnal artwork, bringing Autrest’s imagery to life. Harsh vocals sit back in the mix, evoking windswept trees as cool harvest gusts leach branches of color, while sporadic baritone cleans add variation. “Lobos (Offering)” sets the stage with melancholic guitar plucks bolstered by forlorn strings, giving way to a controlled spark as “Ashes from the Burning Embers” ratchets up roiling vigor. Through forty-two minutes, Autrest expertly guides listeners across shifting landscapes that are delightful in their earnestness. Mastermind Matheus Vidor establishes himself as a preeminent architect of mood, channeling transitions from gentle, wonder-filled serenity to unyielding wrath. The dynamic between aggression and introspection is marvelous, permeating the album with emotion. While I could understand a complaint that some songs blur together, the spirit of Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves is never stale or disposable. Rather, Autrest has taken what began two years ago and enriched it, composing an ode to self-discovery and transformation.3 My own experience with the music conjures wilderness’s last hurrah before succumbing to winter’s embrace. As days grow shorter and temperatures drop,4 I encourage you to seek refuge and draw warmth from these Burning Embers.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Very Not Late Novella

Sterveling // Sterveling [September 26th, 2025 – Self Release]

Between the world of atmospheric and post-tinged black metal, there exists a twisted form of progressive music that teeters about brooding moods and crackling tones to explore shrieking sadness and profound sorrow. Michiel van der Werff (Prospectors, Weltschmerz), primary Dutch proprietor of Sterveling, places his expressive guitar runs and lurching rhythm clangs in the company of trusted friends to carry out his tortured, baroque vision of black metal. Against the hissing design of synth maestro and Prospectors bandmate Matthias Ruijgrok, a fullness and warping warmth pervades the spacious amp textures and muscular rhythmic framework of each piece. And through the bloodied cries of Weltschmerz bandmate Hreim, a vocal lightning flashes to illuminate the nooks between pulsing synth lines and deathly bursts of full tremolo assault. In three longform pieces, all still totaling a generous forty-two minutes, Sterveling tints a monochrome narrative with vibrant shades from thoughtful tones and well-timed, emotional escalations. Committed to each careful iteration on a melody, the woven Sterveling web grows ever stickier with every passing moment, none of the ten-minute-plus excursions ever feeling even close to their declared runtimes. And with a sound construction that hits delicate yet forceful, creaking yet incising, it’s easy to wander through several journeys on this debut outing before realizing what time has passed. Fans of equally forlorn acts like Tongues or Andalvald will feel more at home here than others. But with a tonal palette that’s as inviting as it is crushing, Sterveling should attract the ears of fans across the extreme spectrum.

#2025 #agalloch #americanMetal #andavald #arjenAnthonyLucassen #assembleTheChariots #atmosphericBlackMetal #autrest #ayreon #blackMetal #bloodletter #boltThrower #brazillianMetal #burningEmbersForgottenWolves #cannibalCorpse #conan #crowbar #darkTranquillity #deathDoom #deathMetal #deathcore #deathhammer #disembowelment #doomMetal #dutchMetal #etherealDominance #fallsOfRauros #fauna #frenchMetal #galundoTenvulance #grimnis #guiltMachine #heruvim #highOnFire #independentRelease #indieRecordings #insideoutMusic #insomnisSomnia #japaneseMetal #jethroTull #jordsjuk #lupusLounge #melodicBlackMetal #melodicDeathMetal #melodicThrashMetal #mercator #mortalScepter #nagletTilLivet #northernSilenceProductions #norwegianMetal #ochreAndAsh #pestilence #piece #postBlackMetal #progressiveBlackMetal #progressiveMetal #progressiveRock #prophecyProductions #ramblersAxe #review #reviews #saor #selfRelease #selfReleased #sep25 #sinister #skeletonwitch #sludge #sludgeMetal #songsNoOneWillHear #spectralVoice #sterveling #stuckInTheFilter #stuckInTheFilter2025 #symphonicDeathcore #thisCharmingManRecords #thrashMetal #tongues #ukrainianMetal #wolvesInTheThroneRoom

Stuck in the Filter: September 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

At last, a burst of cool calms the blood after a brutal summer, and the leaves are turning. Which means I was able to recruit a bunch of grubby little leaf-lookers off the highway to serve as minions to my ever-needy Filter! With a temporarily replenished staff of fools who are unwittingly risking their lives for mere nuggets, I conduct with renewed vigor the search for quality finds.

Today, I bring you those finds, in all of their sparkly glory. WITNESS THEM!

Kenstrosity’s Jaunty Juke

Jordsjuk // Naglet til livet [September 19th, 2025 – Indie Recordings]

The lack of conversation I’ve seen surrounding this Norwegian black metal riff machine is highly disconcerting. Brought to my attention by my wonderfully wise—and devilshly handsome—owlpal1 from… GASP… another blog, Jordsjuk’s debut LP Naglet til livet has my spine whipping to a fro from the onset of ripping opener “Kollaps.” The whiplash doesn’t stop there as thrashy numbers “Grovt skadeverk” and “Skreddersøm” body me against several walls and even a couple of ceilings. For 36 relentless minutes, with only one song pushing the four minute mark, Naglet til livet is an unqualified triumph of editing and tight, effective songwriting. My immediate comparison is 2007-2013 Skeletonwitch, but some of these riffs, like the turbobangers on “Parasitt,” “Rottebitt,” “Klarhet og dybde,” and “Rennestein,” give those hallowed skellybois a serious run for their money. When they aren’t thrashing, Jordsjuk shift into a dour, but still ravenous black metal shadow. Wraiths like “Riv skorpen av såret” and “Svikter din neste” showcase this looming character quite well, and prove Jordsjuk to be dynamic, versatile songwriters. In short, Naglet til livet is a raucous good time for anyone craving black metal with sharp teeth and limitless energy.

Baguette’s Bouncy Blessing

Arjen Anthony Lucassen // Songs No One Will Hear [September 12th, 2025 – Inside Out Music]

A year without an Arjen record would be a much lesser one. It’s not often the crazy Dutchman reuses a non-Ayreon project title, but here we have his fourth solo album becoming the second under the full Arjen Anthony Lucassen name! Dropping 13 years after the previous one, Songs No One Will Hear announces the end of the world is a mere five months away, its tracks depicting the resulting stages of chaos, disarray, and human silliness. It doesn’t fall far off the catchy and melodic Arjen tree but casts a wider net than prior prog rock adventures. Much of the record reflects different eras of Ayreon, including the ’70s prog whimsy of Into the Electric Castle (“Dr. Slumber’s Blue Bus”) and the fun ’80s metal edge of The Source (“Goddamn Conspiracy”). Closing epic “Our Final Song” is a microcosm of his musical breadth, shapeshifting from Jethro Tull flute shenanigans to analog synth ambience to dramatic riff bombast at will. But it’s “The Clock Ticks Down” that steals the spotlight, marking a brief return to the dark, somber grit of Guilt Machine and 01011001. It’s an unusually normal-sized album from Mr. Lucassen as well, the regular, unnarrated version being only 46 minutes and change. A condensed, jovial jack-of-all-trades showcase with many of the usual great guest musician and vocalist selections! And it’s always nice to hear him sing more, too.

Thus Spoke’s Lurid Leftovers

Fauna // Ochre and Ash [September 26th, 2025 – Lupus Lounge/Prophecy Productions]

It’s been 13 years since Cascadian black metal duo Fauna released Avifauna, to quiet yet great acclaim. Given their preoccupation with human prehistory, they might just be operating on a larger timescale than you or I. Ochre and Ash—the two main ingredients used in ancient cave paintings—is an attempt to invoke the spirit of forgotten ceremonies during which the stories of the people were immortalised on stone. Building on an atmospheric black metal base familiar in their better-known exemplars Wolves in the Throne Room and Agalloch, Fauna give Ochre and Ash a distinctive edge by roaming further afield into the experimental. For every metal-dominated track (“Nature & Madness,” “Labyrinths,” “Eternal Return”), there is an ambient, decidedly unsettling counterpart (“A Conjuring,” “Femoral Sun,” “Mockery”), and the latter are not interludes, but integral parts of the ritual. Each infuses skin-prickling drone with eerie chimes and rattles, and uncomfortable vocalisations ranging from moans and wails to laughter and the howling, yipping cries of animals—or humans mimicking them. In their repetition of haunting, hollow sounds, they are both frightening and trance-inducing. Ochre and Ash’s metallic segments are no less ominous, treading as they do between confrontationally turbulent atmoblack2 and diSEMBOWELMENT-adjacent death doom that puts me right back in the void of madness last year’s Spectral Voice generated. This is not a casual listen, and Fauna could have helped it a bit with some editing, as the weirdness combined with an excessive 70-minute runtime makes some longer passages feel tired and could be off-putting to some. Still, it’s an experience I’d recommend trying at least once.

Spicie Forrest’s Sautéed Surplus

Piece // Rambler’s Axe [September 5th, 2025 – This Charming Man Records]

Finding gym metal has always proven difficult for me. It’s not about the fastest or loudest, but about striking a balance between weight and pace. Rambler’s Axe fits the bill nicely. Influenced by the likes of Crowbar and High on Fire, these Berlin-based doomsters peddle raucous and sludgy heavy metal. There’s a bit of Conan in Piece’s DNA, too, making sure to worship each riff long enough for you to make it through any given set. Beefy basslines and aggressive, chiseled drums make it easy to drop into a groove and get your pump on. Faster cuts like “Demigod” and “Rambler’s Axe” go great with chest flies and leg press, but they’ve got tracks for bench press and deadlifts too. “Bastard Sword” and “Owl Eyes” rumble forward like the slow but inevitable rise of the barbell at max weight. Whether marching or running, baritone shouts like tank treads hang over riffs just looking for an excuse to blow off steam. Whatever your reason for visiting the glorious house of gains, Piece has your soundtrack covered.

Heruvim // Mercator [September 12th, 2025 – Self-Release]

As each passing year leaves the almighty Bolt Thrower further in the past, the yearning for that sound grows. I was quite surprised to find a small amount of solace in Heruvim, hailing from Odesa, Ukraine. I say small solace, because debut LP Mercator is more than just a clone. Augmented with the unsettling atmosphere of early Pestilence and the vocal malevolence of Sinister, this platter of old school death metal carves its own niche in a storied scene. Off-kilter leads bubble up and spew out of a murky, tarred rhythm section like prehistoric gases in a primordial soup (“Gnosis,” “Lacrimae Rerum”). Lachrymose, doom-laden passages and violent death threats trade back and forth, anchored by volatile blast beats and percussive assaults in the vein of Cannibal Corpse (“Nulla Res,” “Mercator”). Stitched together with eerie, short-and-sweet interludes, Mercator’s lean 30 minutes fly by and always leave me itching for more. Heruvim riffs on a slew of classic sounds, creating a casual brutality and primal barbarism that is both compelling and uniquely their own.

ClarkKent’s Melodic Monstrosities

Galundo Tenvulance // Insomnis Somnia [September 17th, 2025 – Spiritual Beast Records]

Falling somewhere between symphonic deathcore acts Assemble the Chariots and Grimnis enters Japan’s Galundo Tenvulance. On their second full-length LP, Insomnis Somnia, the sextet demonstrates raw power and frenetic energy throughout its 41-minute runtime. Songs are anchored by catchy melodic leads, atmospheric symphonies, and punishing, relentless kitwork (no drummer is credited, so hopefully it’s not programmed). Galundo Tenvulance’s new vocalist, Sao, delivers the goods, bringing a spirited energy to her performance that elevates the already terrific material. While the symphonics don’t quite elevate the music the same way they do for Assemble the Chariots, it’s the melodic riffs that make these guys stand out. “Noble Rot” is the highlight, with a killer lead riff that uses harmonics to add just that extra bit of oomph. Other highlights include the catchy “Regret Never Sleeps,” evoking Character-era Dark Tranquillity, and “In The Realms of the Unreal,” which demonstrates their ability to transform solos into surprising melodies. This might be too good to have landed in the filter, but with my TYMHM slots filled up, it’s better than nothing.

Mortal Scepter // Ethereal Dominance [September 9th, 2025 – Xtreem Music]

As if we didn’t have enough thrash floating in the filter, French outfit Mortal Scepter finds itself as yet another piece of thrash dredged from the muck. This quartet has been around since 2012, yet Ethereal Dominance is only their second full-length release. Their sound lands somewhere between the melodic thrash of Bloodletter and the mania of Deathhammer—though a touch less zany. The persistent level of energy these bands can maintain never ceases to amaze me. While the constant beat of drum blasts threatens to make thrash songs sound too similar, the variety of melodies Mortal Scepter delivers ensures that things never grow repetitive. They have a raw, blackened sound that feels immediate and in your face. Drummer Guillaume keeps an impressive pace with fresh-sounding, nonstop blast beats, while vocalist Lucas Scellier snarls with enthusiasm, with a voice comparable to Deathhammer’s Sergeant Salsten. However, it’s the guitars by Maxime and Scellier that really bring the band to life, from the noodly melodies to the dynamic, lengthy, and impressive solos on each song. These guys prove they are more than just simple thrash metallers on the epic thrash, ten-minute finale, “Into the Wolves Den,” which uses a mix of tempo shifts and hooky melodies to make the song just fly by. With this second LP under their belts, these guys have proven themselves an exciting newish band on the thrash scene.

Grin Reaper’s Woodland Windfall

Autrest // Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves [September 5th, 2025 – Northern Silence Productions]

Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves merges atmospheric black metal with nature, resuming Autrest’s vision from debut Follow the Cold Path. Like Saor or Falls of Rauros, stunning melodies play across untamed backdrops that stir heartstrings in unexpected ways. Ethereal keys, mournful strings, and rapid-fire tremolos impeccably capture Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves’ autumnal artwork, bringing Autrest’s imagery to life. Harsh vocals sit back in the mix, evoking windswept trees as cool harvest gusts leach branches of color, while sporadic baritone cleans add variation. “Lobos (Offering)” sets the stage with melancholic guitar plucks bolstered by forlorn strings, giving way to a controlled spark as “Ashes from the Burning Embers” ratchets up roiling vigor. Through forty-two minutes, Autrest expertly guides listeners across shifting landscapes that are delightful in their earnestness. Mastermind Matheus Vidor establishes himself as a preeminent architect of mood, channeling transitions from gentle, wonder-filled serenity to unyielding wrath. The dynamic between aggression and introspection is marvelous, permeating the album with emotion. While I could understand a complaint that some songs blur together, the spirit of Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves is never stale or disposable. Rather, Autrest has taken what began two years ago and enriched it, composing an ode to self-discovery and transformation.3 My own experience with the music conjures wilderness’s last hurrah before succumbing to winter’s embrace. As days grow shorter and temperatures drop,4 I encourage you to seek refuge and draw warmth from these Burning Embers.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Very Not Late Novella

Sterveling // Sterveling [September 26th, 2025 – Self Release]

Between the world of atmospheric and post-tinged black metal, there exists a twisted form of progressive music that teeters about brooding moods and crackling tones to explore shrieking sadness and profound sorrow. Michiel van der Werff (Prospectors, Weltschmerz), primary Dutch proprietor of Sterveling, places his expressive guitar runs and lurching rhythm clangs in the company of trusted friends to carry out his tortured, baroque vision of black metal. Against the hissing design of synth maestro and Prospectors bandmate Matthias Ruijgrok, a fullness and warping warmth pervades the spacious amp textures and muscular rhythmic framework of each piece. And through the bloodied cries of Weltschmerz bandmate Hreim, a vocal lightning flashes to illuminate the nooks between pulsing synth lines and deathly bursts of full tremolo assault. In three longform pieces, all still totaling a generous forty-two minutes, Sterveling tints a monochrome narrative with vibrant shades from thoughtful tones and well-timed, emotional escalations. Committed to each careful iteration on a melody, the woven Sterveling web grows ever stickier with every passing moment, none of the ten-minute-plus excursions ever feeling even close to their declared runtimes. And with a sound construction that hits delicate yet forceful, creaking yet incising, it’s easy to wander through several journeys on this debut outing before realizing what time has passed. Fans of equally forlorn acts like Tongues or Andalvald will feel more at home here than others. But with a tonal palette that’s as inviting as it is crushing, Sterveling should attract the ears of fans across the extreme spectrum.

#2025 #agalloch #americanMetal #andavald #arjenAnthonyLucassen #assembleTheChariots #atmosphericBlackMetal #autrest #ayreon #blackMetal #bloodletter #boltThrower #brazillianMetal #burningEmbersForgottenWolves #cannibalCorpse #conan #crowbar #darkTranquillity #deathDoom #deathMetal #deathcore #deathhammer #disembowelment #doomMetal #dutchMetal #etherealDominance #fallsOfRauros #fauna #frenchMetal #galundoTenvulance #grimnis #guiltMachine #heruvim #highOnFire #independentRelease #indieRecordings #insideoutMusic #insomnisSomnia #japaneseMetal #jethroTull #jordsjuk #lupusLounge #melodicBlackMetal #melodicDeathMetal #melodicThrashMetal #mercator #mortalScepter #nagletTilLivet #northernSilenceProductions #norwegianMetal #ochreAndAsh #pestilence #piece #postBlackMetal #progressiveBlackMetal #progressiveMetal #progressiveRock #prophecyProductions #ramblersAxe #review #reviews #saor #selfRelease #selfReleased #sep25 #sinister #skeletonwitch #sludge #sludgeMetal #songsNoOneWillHear #spectralVoice #sterveling #stuckInTheFilter #stuckInTheFilter2025 #symphonicDeathcore #thisCharmingManRecords #thrashMetal #tongues #ukrainianMetal #wolvesInTheThroneRoom

Stuck in the Filter: September 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

At last, a burst of cool calms the blood after a brutal summer, and the leaves are turning. Which means I was able to recruit a bunch of grubby little leaf-lookers off the highway to serve as minions to my ever-needy Filter! With a temporarily replenished staff of fools who are unwittingly risking their lives for mere nuggets, I conduct with renewed vigor the search for quality finds.

Today, I bring you those finds, in all of their sparkly glory. WITNESS THEM!

Kenstrosity’s Jaunty Juke

Jordsjuk // Naglet til livet [September 19th, 2025 – Indie Recordings]

The lack of conversation I’ve seen surrounding this Norwegian black metal riff machine is highly disconcerting. Brought to my attention by my wonderfully wise—and devilshly handsome—owlpal1 from… GASP… another blog, Jordsjuk’s debut LP Naglet til livet has my spine whipping to a fro from the onset of ripping opener “Kollaps.” The whiplash doesn’t stop there as thrashy numbers “Grovt skadeverk” and “Skreddersøm” body me against several walls and even a couple of ceilings. For 36 relentless minutes, with only one song pushing the four minute mark, Naglet til livet is an unqualified triumph of editing and tight, effective songwriting. My immediate comparison is 2007-2013 Skeletonwitch, but some of these riffs, like the turbobangers on “Parasitt,” “Rottebitt,” “Klarhet og dybde,” and “Rennestein,” give those hallowed skellybois a serious run for their money. When they aren’t thrashing, Jordsjuk shift into a dour, but still ravenous black metal shadow. Wraiths like “Riv skorpen av såret” and “Svikter din neste” showcase this looming character quite well, and prove Jordsjuk to be dynamic, versatile songwriters. In short, Naglet til livet is a raucous good time for anyone craving black metal with sharp teeth and limitless energy.

Baguette’s Bouncy Blessing

Arjen Anthony Lucassen // Songs No One Will Hear [September 12th, 2025 – Inside Out Music]

A year without an Arjen record would be a much lesser one. It’s not often the crazy Dutchman reuses a non-Ayreon project title, but here we have his fourth solo album becoming the second under the full Arjen Anthony Lucassen name! Dropping 13 years after the previous one, Songs No One Will Hear announces the end of the world is a mere five months away, its tracks depicting the resulting stages of chaos, disarray, and human silliness. It doesn’t fall far off the catchy and melodic Arjen tree but casts a wider net than prior prog rock adventures. Much of the record reflects different eras of Ayreon, including the ’70s prog whimsy of Into the Electric Castle (“Dr. Slumber’s Blue Bus”) and the fun ’80s metal edge of The Source (“Goddamn Conspiracy”). Closing epic “Our Final Song” is a microcosm of his musical breadth, shapeshifting from Jethro Tull flute shenanigans to analog synth ambience to dramatic riff bombast at will. But it’s “The Clock Ticks Down” that steals the spotlight, marking a brief return to the dark, somber grit of Guilt Machine and 01011001. It’s an unusually normal-sized album from Mr. Lucassen as well, the regular, unnarrated version being only 46 minutes and change. A condensed, jovial jack-of-all-trades showcase with many of the usual great guest musician and vocalist selections! And it’s always nice to hear him sing more, too.

Thus Spoke’s Lurid Leftovers

Fauna // Ochre and Ash [September 26th, 2025 – Lupus Lounge/Prophecy Productions]

It’s been 13 years since Cascadian black metal duo Fauna released Avifauna, to quiet yet great acclaim. Given their preoccupation with human prehistory, they might just be operating on a larger timescale than you or I. Ochre and Ash—the two main ingredients used in ancient cave paintings—is an attempt to invoke the spirit of forgotten ceremonies during which the stories of the people were immortalised on stone. Building on an atmospheric black metal base familiar in their better-known exemplars Wolves in the Throne Room and Agalloch, Fauna give Ochre and Ash a distinctive edge by roaming further afield into the experimental. For every metal-dominated track (“Nature & Madness,” “Labyrinths,” “Eternal Return”), there is an ambient, decidedly unsettling counterpart (“A Conjuring,” “Femoral Sun,” “Mockery”), and the latter are not interludes, but integral parts of the ritual. Each infuses skin-prickling drone with eerie chimes and rattles, and uncomfortable vocalisations ranging from moans and wails to laughter and the howling, yipping cries of animals—or humans mimicking them. In their repetition of haunting, hollow sounds, they are both frightening and trance-inducing. Ochre and Ash’s metallic segments are no less ominous, treading as they do between confrontationally turbulent atmoblack2 and diSEMBOWELMENT-adjacent death doom that puts me right back in the void of madness last year’s Spectral Voice generated. This is not a casual listen, and Fauna could have helped it a bit with some editing, as the weirdness combined with an excessive 70-minute runtime makes some longer passages feel tired and could be off-putting to some. Still, it’s an experience I’d recommend trying at least once.

Spicie Forrest’s Sautéed Surplus

Piece // Rambler’s Axe [September 5th, 2025 – This Charming Man Records]

Finding gym metal has always proven difficult for me. It’s not about the fastest or loudest, but about striking a balance between weight and pace. Rambler’s Axe fits the bill nicely. Influenced by the likes of Crowbar and High on Fire, these Berlin-based doomsters peddle raucous and sludgy heavy metal. There’s a bit of Conan in Piece’s DNA, too, making sure to worship each riff long enough for you to make it through any given set. Beefy basslines and aggressive, chiseled drums make it easy to drop into a groove and get your pump on. Faster cuts like “Demigod” and “Rambler’s Axe” go great with chest flies and leg press, but they’ve got tracks for bench press and deadlifts too. “Bastard Sword” and “Owl Eyes” rumble forward like the slow but inevitable rise of the barbell at max weight. Whether marching or running, baritone shouts like tank treads hang over riffs just looking for an excuse to blow off steam. Whatever your reason for visiting the glorious house of gains, Piece has your soundtrack covered.

Heruvim // Mercator [September 12th, 2025 – Self-Release]

As each passing year leaves the almighty Bolt Thrower further in the past, the yearning for that sound grows. I was quite surprised to find a small amount of solace in Heruvim, hailing from Odesa, Ukraine. I say small solace, because debut LP Mercator is more than just a clone. Augmented with the unsettling atmosphere of early Pestilence and the vocal malevolence of Sinister, this platter of old school death metal carves its own niche in a storied scene. Off-kilter leads bubble up and spew out of a murky, tarred rhythm section like prehistoric gases in a primordial soup (“Gnosis,” “Lacrimae Rerum”). Lachrymose, doom-laden passages and violent death threats trade back and forth, anchored by volatile blast beats and percussive assaults in the vein of Cannibal Corpse (“Nulla Res,” “Mercator”). Stitched together with eerie, short-and-sweet interludes, Mercator’s lean 30 minutes fly by and always leave me itching for more. Heruvim riffs on a slew of classic sounds, creating a casual brutality and primal barbarism that is both compelling and uniquely their own.

ClarkKent’s Melodic Monstrosities

Galundo Tenvulance // Insomnis Somnia [September 17th, 2025 – Spiritual Beast Records]

Falling somewhere between symphonic deathcore acts Assemble the Chariots and Grimnis enters Japan’s Galundo Tenvulance. On their second full-length LP, Insomnis Somnia, the sextet demonstrates raw power and frenetic energy throughout its 41-minute runtime. Songs are anchored by catchy melodic leads, atmospheric symphonies, and punishing, relentless kitwork (no drummer is credited, so hopefully it’s not programmed). Galundo Tenvulance’s new vocalist, Sao, delivers the goods, bringing a spirited energy to her performance that elevates the already terrific material. While the symphonics don’t quite elevate the music the same way they do for Assemble the Chariots, it’s the melodic riffs that make these guys stand out. “Noble Rot” is the highlight, with a killer lead riff that uses harmonics to add just that extra bit of oomph. Other highlights include the catchy “Regret Never Sleeps,” evoking Character-era Dark Tranquillity, and “In The Realms of the Unreal,” which demonstrates their ability to transform solos into surprising melodies. This might be too good to have landed in the filter, but with my TYMHM slots filled up, it’s better than nothing.

Mortal Scepter // Ethereal Dominance [September 9th, 2025 – Xtreem Music]

As if we didn’t have enough thrash floating in the filter, French outfit Mortal Scepter finds itself as yet another piece of thrash dredged from the muck. This quartet has been around since 2012, yet Ethereal Dominance is only their second full-length release. Their sound lands somewhere between the melodic thrash of Bloodletter and the mania of Deathhammer—though a touch less zany. The persistent level of energy these bands can maintain never ceases to amaze me. While the constant beat of drum blasts threatens to make thrash songs sound too similar, the variety of melodies Mortal Scepter delivers ensures that things never grow repetitive. They have a raw, blackened sound that feels immediate and in your face. Drummer Guillaume keeps an impressive pace with fresh-sounding, nonstop blast beats, while vocalist Lucas Scellier snarls with enthusiasm, with a voice comparable to Deathhammer’s Sergeant Salsten. However, it’s the guitars by Maxime and Scellier that really bring the band to life, from the noodly melodies to the dynamic, lengthy, and impressive solos on each song. These guys prove they are more than just simple thrash metallers on the epic thrash, ten-minute finale, “Into the Wolves Den,” which uses a mix of tempo shifts and hooky melodies to make the song just fly by. With this second LP under their belts, these guys have proven themselves an exciting newish band on the thrash scene.

Grin Reaper’s Woodland Windfall

Autrest // Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves [September 5th, 2025 – Northern Silence Productions]

Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves merges atmospheric black metal with nature, resuming Autrest’s vision from debut Follow the Cold Path. Like Saor or Falls of Rauros, stunning melodies play across untamed backdrops that stir heartstrings in unexpected ways. Ethereal keys, mournful strings, and rapid-fire tremolos impeccably capture Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves’ autumnal artwork, bringing Autrest’s imagery to life. Harsh vocals sit back in the mix, evoking windswept trees as cool harvest gusts leach branches of color, while sporadic baritone cleans add variation. “Lobos (Offering)” sets the stage with melancholic guitar plucks bolstered by forlorn strings, giving way to a controlled spark as “Ashes from the Burning Embers” ratchets up roiling vigor. Through forty-two minutes, Autrest expertly guides listeners across shifting landscapes that are delightful in their earnestness. Mastermind Matheus Vidor establishes himself as a preeminent architect of mood, channeling transitions from gentle, wonder-filled serenity to unyielding wrath. The dynamic between aggression and introspection is marvelous, permeating the album with emotion. While I could understand a complaint that some songs blur together, the spirit of Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves is never stale or disposable. Rather, Autrest has taken what began two years ago and enriched it, composing an ode to self-discovery and transformation.3 My own experience with the music conjures wilderness’s last hurrah before succumbing to winter’s embrace. As days grow shorter and temperatures drop,4 I encourage you to seek refuge and draw warmth from these Burning Embers.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Very Not Late Novella

Sterveling // Sterveling [September 26th, 2025 – Self Release]

Between the world of atmospheric and post-tinged black metal, there exists a twisted form of progressive music that teeters about brooding moods and crackling tones to explore shrieking sadness and profound sorrow. Michiel van der Werff (Prospectors, Weltschmerz), primary Dutch proprietor of Sterveling, places his expressive guitar runs and lurching rhythm clangs in the company of trusted friends to carry out his tortured, baroque vision of black metal. Against the hissing design of synth maestro and Prospectors bandmate Matthias Ruijgrok, a fullness and warping warmth pervades the spacious amp textures and muscular rhythmic framework of each piece. And through the bloodied cries of Weltschmerz bandmate Hreim, a vocal lightning flashes to illuminate the nooks between pulsing synth lines and deathly bursts of full tremolo assault. In three longform pieces, all still totaling a generous forty-two minutes, Sterveling tints a monochrome narrative with vibrant shades from thoughtful tones and well-timed, emotional escalations. Committed to each careful iteration on a melody, the woven Sterveling web grows ever stickier with every passing moment, none of the ten-minute-plus excursions ever feeling even close to their declared runtimes. And with a sound construction that hits delicate yet forceful, creaking yet incising, it’s easy to wander through several journeys on this debut outing before realizing what time has passed. Fans of equally forlorn acts like Tongues or Andalvald will feel more at home here than others. But with a tonal palette that’s as inviting as it is crushing, Sterveling should attract the ears of fans across the extreme spectrum.

#2025 #agalloch #americanMetal #andavald #arjenAnthonyLucassen #assembleTheChariots #atmosphericBlackMetal #autrest #ayreon #blackMetal #bloodletter #boltThrower #brazillianMetal #burningEmbersForgottenWolves #cannibalCorpse #conan #crowbar #darkTranquillity #deathDoom #deathMetal #deathcore #deathhammer #disembowelment #doomMetal #dutchMetal #etherealDominance #fallsOfRauros #fauna #frenchMetal #galundoTenvulance #grimnis #guiltMachine #heruvim #highOnFire #independentRelease #indieRecordings #insideoutMusic #insomnisSomnia #japaneseMetal #jethroTull #jordsjuk #lupusLounge #melodicBlackMetal #melodicDeathMetal #melodicThrashMetal #mercator #mortalScepter #nagletTilLivet #northernSilenceProductions #norwegianMetal #ochreAndAsh #pestilence #piece #postBlackMetal #progressiveBlackMetal #progressiveMetal #progressiveRock #prophecyProductions #ramblersAxe #review #reviews #saor #selfRelease #selfReleased #sep25 #sinister #skeletonwitch #sludge #sludgeMetal #songsNoOneWillHear #spectralVoice #sterveling #stuckInTheFilter #stuckInTheFilter2025 #symphonicDeathcore #thisCharmingManRecords #thrashMetal #tongues #ukrainianMetal #wolvesInTheThroneRoom

Serpent God – Denial Review

By ClarkKent

The digital era, where a band can release singles or EPs at a whim, seems to have tossed aside the concept of a B-sides compilation record. These albums consist of tunes that, for whatever reason, just didn’t make the cut on the main LP. This isn’t necessarily because those songs are bad. System of a Down’s Steal this Album! is, in my mind, just as much fun as their regular studio releases, and The Masterplan by Oasis is widely considered one of their best. Denial, the debut from Finland’s Serpent God, owes its existence to such B-side material, albeit from a different band: Se, Josta Ei Puhuta. While Se, Josta Ei Puhuta skews melodic death and thrash,1 after completing their 2022 record, Gehenna, they found themselves with leftover tracks that were too slow and mournful for what that group wanted to accomplish. The songs were too good to just toss away, though. As a result, three members from Se, Josta Ei Puhuta formed Serpent God and decided to unleash nine tracks of melancholic doom upon the sadboi lovers of the world.

While many complain about instrumental openers, “Denial” does a good job of prepping listeners emotionally and musically for what’s to come, with doleful keyboards and guitar licks. However, Serpent God truly establish their ability to pen infectious leads with the two gut-wrenching pieces of melodic doom that follow. “Beneath” evokes My Dying Bride with its combo of sorrowful melodies, slow and thunderous drumming, and vocalist Samu Mänikkö’s low, deep growl (something that becomes more of a rasp on later songs). Just when they’ve gotten you all buttered up, Serpent God then drive a stake through your heart with the lovely melodic lead on follow-up “Repent,” a killer tune that’ll go down as one of the best pieces of doom this year. Both tracks are on the long side, averaging seven minutes, but their progressive structures and shifts in tempo ensure that they remain compelling throughout. With such a great start, you understand why these guys didn’t want to leave these songs in the trash bin.

Serpent God harness all of their tools to try to squeeze tears from their listeners. Along with the evocative melodic leads described above, Mänikkö, who is also the guitarist, creates plaintive refrains using tremolos similar to those played by To Escape and Winds of Tragedy (“Alive,” “Sermon”). Mänikkö’s gently plucked arpeggios provide a reprieve from the heavier material during the bridge (“Repent,” “Revelation”), or as a way to pluck heartstrings from the start (“Beneath,” “Alive,” “Oblivion”). Vocally, Mänikkö shows less variety, largely sticking with his blackened rasps, but occasionally he surprises with cleans that accent the woeful guitar tones. Lush production values help the instruments evoke their melancholic tones, though there are a few questionable choices. The drums and bass lack the oomph of the guitars, but even worse is that nearly every time the keyboards play alone, there’s a distinct and annoying hum in the background.

At 50 minutes, and with most songs in the six-minute range, Denial does start to grow wearying as it approaches its end. While Serpent God do make use of tempo shifts, particularly on the energetic and effective “Sermon,” to break up the dourness of the surrounding material, the final three songs do not live up to the quality of what comes before. They feel like B-sides the band should have cut. These tracks feature awkward riffs, whispers, and spoken word portions—something that plagues other songs as well—that, combined with a lack of strong hooks, leaves the final fifteen minutes underwhelming. The three-minute conclusion, “Void,” ends the album with a series of tinkling, crystalline synths that feel anticlimactic compared to some of the big emotions evoked on prior tracks.

Clearly, the extra stuff leftover from Se, Josta Ei Puhuta’s Gehenna provided plenty of material to record a solid album. With Denial, Serpent God’s three members have proven they can write potent melodies, and they know how to hit you right in the feels. There’s enough quality music on Denial to have written a very good album, if only its arteries weren’t clogged with too much doomy fat and B-side material. It’s a shame, because there are some great songs, and for that, I do think this is worth a listen, even if I don’t recommend Denial as a whole. If anything, they have proven themselves to be a group to keep on your radar.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Inverse Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 10th, 2025

#25 #2025 #DeathDoom #Denial #DoomMetal #FinnishMetal #InverseRecords #MelodicMetal #MyDyingBride #Oct25 #Review #Reviews #SerpentGod #ToEscape #WindsOfTragedy

Dwelling Below – Wearisome Guardians Review

By Spicie Forrest

The boys in Dwelling Below get a lot of facetime here at AMG. We’ve reviewed Hierarchies’ debut (Jared Moran, Anthony Wheeler, Nicolas Turner), all three albums by Acausal Intrusion (Moran, Turner), one by Filtheater (Moran), and we’ve done a filter piece on Feral Lord (Moran, Turner). It’s no wonder, as we tend to enjoy the angry, dissonant stuff they put out. I’ve been jonesing for something in that ballpark, so when I learned that Dwelling Below’s debut unnerved Thus Spoke enough to waive seniority, I quickly snagged their follow-up. Hoping it might hit the spot, I eagerly dug my grubby lil nubbins into Wearisome Guardians.

Dwelling Below was a filthy slab of long-form deathened doom, and Wearisome Guardians offers much of the same. Look at that cover art. It sounds exactly how you’d expect: like bathing in stagnant catacomb water. Cavernous, mad, and malevolent, Moran echoes through abandoned tombs, disturbing centuries of eight-legged architecture. On the skins, he nearly wakes the dead with frenetic onslaughts of double bass and unsettling cymbals. Turner’s guitar stillbirths an unholy union of Saint Vitus and Autopsy. Warped and abrasive riffs lumber forward, inexorable and lethal as a cave-in, while tormented leads scream psychosis from a neighboring cell (“Terminal Experiments,” “Sacraments”). Ever-so-slightly discordant basslines weave and coil around your ankles as Wheeler encourages a reexamination of your sanity. Like meeting a skinwalker, you know something’s off, but it’s hard to describe, and it’s fucking terrifying.

It’s a little oxymoronic to call 1.) dissonant 2.) death/doom 3.) metal accessible, but Wearisome Guardians is perhaps Moran’s most approachable offering yet. His aforementioned acts all shove their base genres through the same twisted, dissonant lens, but compared to Hierarchies or Acausal Intrusion, Dwelling Below is almost melodic. Between chaotic, atonal passages and vicious whammy abuse, Turner employs more traditional riffcraft learned long ago at Candlemass (“Wearisome Guardians,” “Terminal Experiments”). Leads in “Unfolding Universe” and “The Altar” reveal traces of Brocas Helm and Cirith Ungol, while “Sacraments” reaches further back, unearthing the legendary B.B. King for a solo, soulful, bright, and blue. These ancestral trappings are strung with care and shine brilliantly against Dwelling Below’s murky core. Wearisome Guardians offers these moments of reprieve from its oppressive violence, like guiding lights coaxing you deeper into the dark.

At 51 minutes, Wearisome Guardians isn’t terribly long for the genre, but with an average track length of ten minutes, it certainly isn’t a casual listen. Luckily, songcraft is not a weakness Dwelling Below suffers. Far from sedentary, Wearisome Guardians is in constant motion. Most riffs only linger a few moments before evolving into something new or reverting to a main throughline. Even when a riff tarries longer, the bass, drums, or vocals twist and shift, keeping things fresh and engaging throughout. More than this, each song seems built around clearly defined movements. Even on a first listen, I could guess my place in a song fairly well. There’s an intuitive logic to each track’s pace, allowing Wearisome Guardians to feel lean and efficient with no real fat to trim. Even the 90-second “Interlude” belongs. What initially feels like a respite reveals itself to be just as unsettling as the rest of the album. Bright and metallic, this moment’s tainted rest doesn’t let you forget what’s on the other side.

I wished for some grimy, cavernous filth, and I got it. Wearisome Guardians is a menace to experience. I honestly thought it hyperbole when Thus Spoke said their debut induced fear, but exaggeration it was not. Even with bright moments that fractionally lessen the tension, Dwelling Below is still deeply unnerving. These casket campers know what they’re doing, and they’re good at it. Wearisome Guardians is a strong success on both atmospheric and compositional fronts. Dwelling Below doesn’t just want to show you the dark. They want to leave you there without a torch and seal the tomb. This sophomore effort is claustrophobic, sepulchral, and evil. Wearisome Guardians is viscerally unsafe, and it’s here to break you if you’ve got the nerve to let it.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025

#2025 #35 #AcausalIntrusion #AmericanMetal #Autopsy #BBKing #BrocasHelm #Candlemass #CirithUngol #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #DwellingBelow #FeralLord #Filtheater #Hierarchies #Oct25 #Review #Reviews #SaintVitus #TranscendingObscurityRecords #WearisomeGuardians

Harvest — For the Souls We Have Lost Review

By Steel Druhm

Written By: NamelessN00b_606

Since nostalgia drives the creation and consumption of so much contemporary metal, metalheads might be interested in its etymology. A borrowing from post-classical Latin that combines the ancient Greek νόστος (‘return home’) and ‑αλγία (‘pain’), ‘nostalgia’ meant something like a pathologized homesickness when it came into English usage in the eighteenth century.1 So if you’re nostalgic for, say, the gothic doom metal of the 1990s, then 90s gothic doom is your musical home, your longing for this home rises to the level of a physical ailment, and Harvest may have the cure. A new Italian quintet, Harvest describes itself as an earnest tribute to bands like My Dying Bride, Paradise Lost, and Katatonia. As with any album overtly tapping into the past, the hope is that For the Souls We Have Lost, Harvest’s debut, administers a ‘stalg salve with its own unique fragrance.

For the Souls We Have Lost succeeds at sounding like its inspirations. At the core of Harvest are barebones, Sabbathian riffs, reminiscent of the way My Dying Bride practices Sabbath revival on an album like The Angel and the Dark River. Vocally, Emanuele resembles Aaron Stainthorpe in both his clean and extreme registers. Emanuele and guitarist Fabio Torresan offer simple yet effective interplays between gothy croons, Iommian phrases, and macabre growls, especially on “Floating Leaves.” But no doom with gothic aspirations can do without gloomy atmosphere. In addition to supplying a second guitar, Matteo Gandolfi plays keyboards, adding texture via synthetic strings (“Floating Leaves”), choirs (“Born Alone”), and horns (“Shining Moon”). These elements nicely fill out the refreshingly open production of For the Souls We Have Lost, especially on closer “The Path of Life.” Harvest have crafted a debut that will transport listeners to a graveyard poetry reading in 1997, with Paradise Lost’s Gothic and Katatonia’s Brave Murder Day providing the soundtrack.

Doom is an inherently direct subgenre, but simplicity often holds For the Souls We Have Lost back. The main riffs in both “Hunter of Souls” and “Shining Moon” are a bit too straightforward; they would have benefited from some variation. On the songwriting front, most of these songs include a clean or acoustic guitar break in the middle (“Floating Leaves,” “Hunter of Souls,” “Shining Moon”). This is a common way to approach a bridge in doom, but it becomes a predictable pattern here. These sections also raise another issue: the dryness of the non-distorted guitar tones. Opener “Born Alone,” for example, begins with a two-chord progression played by a clean guitar lacking character. The song eventually kicks into heavy gear, but when it returns to its dry-clean progression in the middle, the song ends up feeling like a buildup without a payoff.

The vocals do occasionally elevate these songs, though they present their own challenges. On the clean side, Emanuele favors a mid-range croon that results in some memorable hooks (“Floating Leaves,” “Hunter of Souls”). At other points, however, the cleans don’t hit the ear in the best way. The verse to “In Shape of Beast” includes melodic jumps that are kind of catchy but that don’t mesh with the supporting music. Similarly, “Shining Moon” ends with a cappella vocals that waver when they should be commanding attention. On one song, the cleans sound like the work of a different vocalist. “Born Alone” drops a droning monotone atop its simple chord progression, which doesn’t do much to develop the melody.2 Whereas the rest of the album has those satisfying, Stainthropean swings in inflection, “Born Alone” sets a flat—and retrospectively confusing—tone as the opener.

If 90s gothic doom is your home, then you probably won’t need to consult your doctor before taking For the Souls We Have Lost. Such listeners will find comfort across the album’s reasonable 37-minute runtime, particularly from “Floating Leaves” and “The Path of Life.” If, however, the subgenre is more like the Victorian house of an esoteric neighbor, then For the Souls We Have Lost probably won’t do much for you. The retro production won’t read as charmingly nostalgic, and the inconsistencies will prevent full immersion. Harvest have done a good job conjuring the matter and spirit of their influences; hopefully, their follow-up will play off their strengths to develop a unique identity.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: V0 mp3
Label: Octopus Rising Records (sub-label of Argonauta Records)
Websites: harvest-doom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/harvestdoom
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

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