#deathspellomega — Public Fediverse posts

I love me an honest promo blurb. In a world where every advertisement promises more brutality than a 20-year exclusive diet of doughnuts and American cheese, and more emotional trauma than walking in your parents whipping you up a sibling, there are points to be earned for labels real enough to simply tell us what this is and who it’s for. The sophomore album by one-man project Agonanist arrived with the very simple description that this was “…adjacent to dissonant black metal in the vein of Deathspell Omega, Blut aus Nord, Xasthur, and Krallice.” I happen to have some degree of appreciation for all those bands, ranging from acknowledgement of importance to unbridled fanaticism, so I couldn’t wait to get my paws on this. Toss in some info about hand-carved microtonal guitars in the spirit of Jute Gyte, and this sets the stage for a blackened slab of ugly indeed. Can The Spirit of Gravity possibly live up to such a pedigree?

No, but the Spirit is definitely there. Agonanist could have just as easily labeled The Spirit of Gravity as experimental atmo-black and still been on the money, as the expected ugliness and mind-warping generally take a back seat to heaps and heaps of spacey, ambient atmosphere. It helps that the whole album is deeply overlaid with synth work, softening the more abrasive edges (“The Gateway”) and offering up transitional passages of beauty (“Collapse”) while rarely turning into their own highlight reel. “Effacement” is the two-pronged statement of intent, beginning with the required ugly chords, murky and full and indeed carrying a whiff of vintage Xasthur, but then blending into much more beautiful, hypnotic notes reminiscent of a less peaceful Cosmosophy. This dual approach is found in the bulk of The Spirit of Gravity, as flirtations with genuine microtonal oppression always give way to something more ethereal, and, dare I say, meditative.

Curiously, Agonanist thrives most when it leans into those moments of beauty and atmosphere over the aggressive and ugly. “Silent Absent” takes on a near shoegaze quality in the riff style and tones, and “Disruption and Decay” features some prolonged simple melodies of melancholy and reflection. Featuring a list of guest instrumentalists from bands as diverse as Krallice, Ripped to Shreds, and even Benighted, the overall sound never wanders beyond the adventurous gardens of the more tranquilly inclined Bluts and Xasthurs of the world. “For Mia” tries to channel some real pathos, with a simple, thick chord progression applying some emotional heft in defiance of the expected cosmic perversion of sound, with decent results. The entire body of work across The Spirit of Gravity lends itself more to relaxing, sky-watching atmospherics, only pausing at times to remind us all of the unknowable everything waiting just beyond the view of the horizon.

It’s in those pauses that The Spirit of Gravity falters. “Cry of Cages” is the most straightforwardly ugly song on the album, lurching here and there without an immediately obvious structure or hook beyond its warped and mutated lead. This song is also a strange blip in the Agonanist experience, as the bulk of The Spirit of Gravity tries to wield its two tonal influences in somewhat equal measure. Most of the speed present on the album finds itself in the uglier bits, with the first third of “Collapse”, the beginning of “Disruption…” and “Silent Absent” using tempo modulations to emphasize the spiritual shift before eventually easing just a touch into more major progressions and softer notes. The greatest riddle of the album is found in “Collapse”, which uses its gorgeous synth interlude to segue into a full five-minute outro of the rawest, screechiest guitar feedback and drumming, reminiscent of Spektr’s Et Fugit Interea Fugit Irreparabile Tempus. Suddenly the fusion is achieved, as the most objectively raw piece of the album masters the introspective and ethereal mood teased at and grasped for throughout, and I’m left desperately wanting more of that. It shows that there are greater things waiting in the project’s future, if they can commit more to a lane or improve in their combination of such disparate ingredients.

Much as the art depicts a mass of bright light surrounded by so much darkness, The Spirit of Gravity is an enjoyable, but imperfect amalgamation of two moods. It isn’t the soul-burning exposure to horrors beyond I was expecting, nor does it turn so beautiful that it can be described as anything truly melodic. What it shows is a unique vision, a sign of promise from a fledgling artist with an already well-crafted and distinct flavor. I’d love to hear more consistency, in one direction or the other; a deeper commitment to the horrors beyond or the beauty within. For now, Agonanist have dropped an interesting release in the realm of dissonant black metal, so come take a dive down this gravity well and pray you land on the right side of the light.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transylvanian Recordings
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: August 28th, 2026

Death Obvious – Death Obvious Review

By Andy-War-Hall

Back in August, I went goo-goo over an avant-black duo under Transcending Obscurity called Hexrot and, as a lowly N00b, awarded their debut Formless Ruin of Oblivion a “Great” designation.1 Flash forward, and sloshing through the promo sump comes an avant-black duo under Transcending Obscurity called Death Obvious, offering their self-titled debut. Composed of vocalist Lea Lavey and everything-else-er Sima Sioux,2 this Finnish duo reveal high aspirations with claims of “crafting music as it suits their demented vision in a recklessly intuitive manner” while pitching Death Obvious for fans of visionary acts like Blut aus Nord, Deathspell Omega, Veilburner and—looky!—Hexrot. My excitement in snagging Death Obvious was, like Death Obvious’ apparent expectations, quite high. Does Death Obvious live up to either?

With Death Obvious, you can pick out distinct moments of black, death and doom metal bubbling to the surface of Death Obvious’ style-soup. Death Obvious is sworn chiefly to the blackened arts, communicating primarily through Lavey’s hideous rasps and Sioux’s tremolo riffs and blast beats, with second-wave inspired ragers “The Third Eye Burning” and “Mercury Off Axis” making no bones about their caustic, reverb-heavy attack. Death and doom are the more secondary sounds of Death Obvious, with death appearing on the chunkier, mid-paced moments of songs like “Sanctuario” and doom manifesting into spacier, drawn-out passages like the start of “The Great Gate Theory,” which put me in mind, surprisingly, of Khemmis’ Hunted. When Death Obvious’ songwriting clicks, like on album highlight “Sanctuario” or portions of closer “Catechismus for the Plagued,” sounds really do hurtle in exciting, dangerous manners that makes Death Obvious a killer listen.

Most of Death Obvious is indistinct, however, due to Death Obvious’ directionless songwriting and murky production. Death Obvious relishes in dissonance both clean (“Total Heavenly Desolation”) and dirty (“Suffer the Spectacle”). But instead of building tension or suspense, Death Obvious creates tedium through dissonance, leading to neither release nor deeper discomfort but to a monotonous drone of black metal murk. This is exacerbated by Sioux’s guitar tone, which in Death Obvious’ faster moments can sound like a totally nebulous melange of reverb. To their credit, Death Obvious’ bass-forward mixing helps mitigate this somewhat, providing plucky, crunchy bass riffs like on “The Great Gate Theory.” It does nothing, however, for the busy, opaque mix that, damn the DR score, sounds boxed-in and flat. Death Obvious’ noise problem is encapsulated right off with “Mercury Off Axis,” opening with an excruciating, high-pitched drill sound that puts me in mind of the dentist and carries on well past its intro. It’s not pleasant, Obviously the point, but it’s not interesting either.

Death Obvious falters because Death Obvious simply doesn’t bring enough to the table. Not only is structure neglected on Death Obvious, but individual songs largely have little going for them beyond the black metal basics; over-repetition is chronic on tracks like “As Absence Expands over Everything,” and monotony abounds because of it. Beyond rare instances of effective piano and non-dental sound effects, Death Obvious blurs together in limited patterns played ad nauseam, making it an effort for the listener to stay focused throughout. Like how Death Obvious’ style issues were made plain by its opener, its songwriting woes are exemplified by its eight-minute closer, “Catechismus for the Plagued.” Half of “Catechismus…” anyway: the half that is one (1) riff, two (2) chords sharing one (1) root note hammered on and off at straight eighth notes with zero variation in dynamics or accent.3 The other half with creepy keys and an otherworldly soundscape shows what Death Obvious can be when playing inspired material. The one riff is what Death Obvious mostly offers: after a while, it doesn’t really sound like anything.

Death Obvious embodies the obtuse nature of avant-garde music with little of the adventurousness of its best practitioners. Instead of sounding unbound, it feels as though Death Obvious let the songs get away from them. I’m not sure if Death Obvious needs more editing, further drafting or both, but as is I can hardly pay attention for the entirety of one listen through. Death Obvious are a talented duo, and I believe they’ll have better material down the line, as moments throughout their debut hint at better things to come. However, not only did I not go goo-goo over Death Obvious, but I’m sure I won’t be returning to it much at all.

Rating: Bad
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: deathobvious.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/DeathObvious
Releases Worldwide: December 5th, 2025

#15 #2025 #avanteGarde #blackMetal #blutAusNord #deathMetal #deathObvious #deathspellOmega #dec25 #doomMetal #finnishMetal #hexrot #khemmis #review #reviews #transcendingObscurityRecords #veilburner #vomitheist

Hexrot – Formless Ruin of Oblivion Review

By Angry Metal Guy

By: Nameless_n00b_604

“What’s past and what’s to come is strew’d with husks / And formless ruin of oblivion;”1

Hieronymus Bosch’s triptych masterpiece The Garden of Earthly Delights is iconic, but like Dante’s Divine Comedy, it’s mostly for the Hell part. It’s not hard to see why: it’s a singularly surreal, oppressively grim piece. Scholars aren’t certain about Bosch’s religious beliefs, but the consensus is that he painted this panel to warn viewers to steer clear of temptation or endure everlasting torment in Hell. Avant-garde duo Hexrot has chosen to adorn their debut LP Formless Ruin of Oblivion with a portion of this panel, but they don’t buy Bosch’s dilemma. Promising in its promo a “stylistic mélange of death, black, and thrash metal with inventive electronic experimentation,” Hexrot has woven an abstractly grim tale of a world rejecting Heaven and Hell by plunging reality into empty Oblivion. Classical in theming, modern in sound, it sounds like quite the undertaking.

Formless Ruin does a lot, and all of it contributes to Hexrot’s impeccable sense of exploration and adventure. The sales pitch doesn’t lie about Hexrot’s sound, but it omits the unpredictable, jazzy feel. Along with Deathspell Omega-esque discordant black and Ulcerate-like dissonant death metal, the duo of drummer/vocalist/electronics producer Melmoth and guitarist/bassist/vocalist Arkain possesses a bombastic, improvised-feeling chemistry akin to Imperial Triumphant. From the skittering drums and bass of “Consecrating Luminous Conflagration” to the trash-canned climax of the fifteen-minute monster title track to “What Lies Veiled” riffing on and modifying Death’s opening “Symbolic” riff like a jazz standard, Formless Ruin of Oblivion rages and writhes in jazz fashion as often as it does in metal. Hexrot’s rhythmic talents are top-notch, serving obscenely busy drumming on “Heavenward” and immense, thrumming bass on “Clandestine Haunt” at odd and changing time signatures. Meanwhile, winding leads on “Consecrating Luminous Conflagration” and jarring electronics on the title track keep Formless Ruin’s melodic identity difficult to pin down. It’s a wild ride down to Oblivion.

Hexrot plays heavy stuff, conceptually and sonically, but Formless Ruin is surprisingly easy listening. Across its thirty-five-minute runtime, Hexrot seamlessly ties its songs together to form a continuous stream of consciousness, like a live suite. Every song besides the interludes is replete with movements and ideas without committing riff salad, while containing just enough repetition to cement hooks into memory. Vocals sound raw and upfront, consisting of a twin attack of bellowing roars and banshee screams that—while they probably would become monotonous alone—duel and complement each other, adding variety to Hexrot’s palette. And everything just sounds great: Formless Ruin sports rich production and dynamic mixing that allows every wild and disparate idea to breathe. Despite its avant-garde nature, Formless Ruin feels immediate through its grounded, live feel.2

Sometimes this album doesn’t even sound real at all. Because Hexrot established such an organic sound, every instance of electronic music creeping into the mix is surprising and even unnerving. “Consecrating Luminous Conflagration” ends and gets absorbed and rewound by the following “Ghostly Retrograde I,” synths join arpeggiated guitar on “Heavenward” to build its eerie elegance, and the title track collapses into crushed static. If there’s one aspect in which Formless Ruin isn’t totally enthralling, however, it’s sometimes when the synths and electronics stand alone. “Ghostly Retrograde II” drags by the end, as does the droning conclusion to “Formless Ruin of Oblivion”; these are the only times my mind wanders. But when they work, they elevate Hexrot, lending haunting qualities that at times remind me of the atmospherics of Cryptic Shift’s excellent Visitations from Enceladus. Hexrot’s push and pull between the organic and artificial is captivating: aptly put on the title track’s lyrics describing a curtain of stars “entering stage right,” Formless Ruin of Oblivion draws attention to its own artifice, revealing the artifice of its story’s reality, justifying Oblivion.

Formless Ruin of Oblivion demands your attention. I’ve begun so many casual spins of this album, and almost all of them turned into deep listens by track three. Hexrot has that touch to take the most seemingly unapproachable stuff and somehow make it addictive. Grandiose, volatile, unconventional, and surreal, Hexrot drummed up some Hell on this one, and I for one will be diving straight into whatever Oblivion they open up next.

Rating: Great!
DR: 10 | Review Format: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity
Website: hexrot-label.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/hexrot
Release Date: August 29th, 2025

#2025 #40 #Aug25 #AvantGarde #AvantGardeDeathMetal #BlackMetal #Death #DeathMetal #DeathspellOmega #FormlessRuinOfOblivion #Hexrot #Review #TranscendingObscurity #TranscendingObscurityRecords #Ulcerate

We enter January under the impression that our underpowered filtration system couldn’t possibly get any more clogged up. Those blistering winds that overwhelm the vents with an even greater portion of debris and detritus pose a great challenge and a grave danger to my minions. Crawling through the refuse as more flies in all william-nilliam, my faithful lackeys brave the perils of the job and return, as they always do, with solid chunks of semi-precious ore.

And so I stand before you, my greedy little gremlins, in a freshly pressed flesh suit that only the elite like myself adorn, and present January 2025’s Filter finds. REJOICE!

Kenstrosity’s Fresh(ish) Finds

Bloodcrusher // Voidseeker [January 9th, 2025 – Barf Bag Records]

The sun rises on a new year, and most are angrier than ever. What’s a better way to process that anger than jamming a phat slab of brutal slamming deathcore into your gob, right? Oregon one-man-slammajamma Bloodcrusher understand this, and so sophomore outburst Voidseeker provides the goods. These are tunes meant not for musicality or delicacy but for brute-force face-caving. Ignorant stomps and trunk-rattling slams trade blows with serrated tremolo slides and a dry pong snare with a level of ferocity uncommon even in this unforgiving field (“Agonal Cherubim ft. Jack Christensen”). Feel the blistering heat of choice cuts “Serpents Circle ft. Azerate Nakamura” or “Death Battalion: Blood Company ft. The Gore Corps” and you have no choice but to submit to their immense heft. Prime lifting material, Voidseeker’s most straightforward cuts guarantee shattered PRs and spontaneous combustion of your favorite gym shorts as your musculature explodes in volume (“Slave Cult,” “Sanguis Aeternus,” “Blood Frenzy”). If you ask me, that sounds like a wonderful problem to have. As they pummel your cranium into dust with deadly slam riffs (“Malus et Mortis ft. Ryan Sporer,” “Seeker of the Void,” “Earthcrusher”) or hack and slash your bones with serrated tremolos (“Razors of Anguish,” “Methmouth PSA”), remember that Bloodcrusher is only trying to help.

Skaldr // Saṃsṛ [January 31st, 2025 – Avantgarde Music]

Virginia’s black metal upstarts Skaldr don’t do anything new. If you’ve heard any of black metal’s second wave, or even more melodic fare by some of my favorite meloblack bands like Oubliette, Stormkeep, and Vorga, Skaldr’s material feels like a cozy blanket of fresh snow. Kicking off their second record, Saṃsṛ, in epic fashion, “The Sum of All Loss” evokes a swaying dance that lulls me into its otherwordly arms. As Saṃsṛ progresses through its seven movements, tracks like the gorgeous “Storms Collide” and the lively “The Crossing” strike true every synapse in my brain, flooding my system with a goosebump-inducing fervor quelled solely by the burden of knowing it must end. Indeed, these short 43 minutes leave me ravenous for more, as Skaldr’s lead-focused wiles charm me over and over again without excess repetition of motifs or homogenization of tones and textures (“From Depth to Dark,” “The Cinder, The Flame, The Sun”). Some of its best moments eclipse its weakest, but weak moments are thankfully few and far between. In reality, Skaldr‘s most serious flaw is that they align so closely with their influences, thereby limiting Saṃsṛ‘s potential to stand out. Nonetheless, it represents one of the more engaging and well-realized examples of the style. Hear it!

Subterranean Lava Dragon // The Great Architect [January 23rd, 2025 – Self Release]

Formed from members of Black Crown Initiate and Minarchist, Pennsylvania’s Subterranean Lava Dragon take the successful parts of their pedigree’s progressive death metal history and transplant them into epic, fantastical soundscapes on their debut LP The Great Architect. Despite the riff-focused, off-kilter nature of The Great Architect, there lies a mystical, mythical backbone behind everything Subterranean Lava Dragon do (“The Great Architect,” “Bleed the Throne”). Delicate strums of the guitar, multifaceted percussion, and noodly soloing provide a thoughtful thread behind the heaviest crush of prog-death riffs and rabid roars, a combination that favorably recalls Blind the Huntsmen (“The Silent Kin,” “A Dream of Drowning”). In a tight 42 minutes, Subterranean Lava Dragon approaches progressive metal with a beastly heft and a compelling set of teeth—largely driven by the expert swing and swagger of the bass guitar—that differentiates The Great Architect from the greater pool of current prog. Yet, its pursuit of creative song structure, reminiscent of Obsidious at times, allows textured gradations and nuanced layers to elevate the final product (“A Question of Eris,” “Ov Ritual Matricide”). It is for these reasons that I heartily recommend The Great Architect to anyone who appreciates smart, but still dangerous and deadly, metal.

Thus Spoke’s Likeable Leftovers

Besna // Krásno [January 16th, 2025 – Self Release]

It was the esteemed Doom et Al who first made me aware of Slovakia’s post-black group Besna. 2022’s Zverstvá was charming and moving in equal respects, with its folky vibe amplifying the punch of blackened atmosphere and epicness. With Krásno, the group take things in a sharper, more refined, and still more compelling direction, showing real evolution and improvement. The vague leanings towards the electronic play a larger role (“Zmráka sa,” “Hranice”), but songs also make use of snappier, and stronger emotional surges (“Krásno,” “Mesto spí”), the polished production to the atmospherics counterbalanced sleekly by the rough, ardent screams and pleasingly prominent percussion. Krásno literally translates as ‘beautiful,’ and Besna get away with titling their sophomore so bluntly because it is accurate. Melodies are more sweeping and stirring (“Krásno,” “Oceán prachu,” “Meso spí”), and the integration of the harsh amidst the mellow is executed more affectively (“Hranice,” “Bezhviezdna obloha”) than in the band’s previous work. Particularly potent are Krásno’s subtle nods and reprises of harmonic themes spanning the record (“Krásno,” “Oceán prachu,” “Mesto spí”), recurring like waves in an uplifting way that reminds me of Deadly Carnage’s Through the Void, Above the Suns. Barely scraping past half an hour, the beautiful Krásno can be experienced repeatedly in short succession; which is the very least this little gem deserves.

Tyme’s Ticking Bomb

Trauma Bond // Summer Ends. Some Are Long Gone [January 12, 2025 – Self-Released]

Conceptualized by multi-instrumentalist Tom Mitchell1 and vocalist Eloise Chong-Gargette, London, England’s Trauma Bond plays grindcore with a twist. Formed in 2020 and on the heels of two other EPs—’21’s The Violence of Spring and ’22’s Winter’s Light—January 2025 sees Trauma Bond release its first proper album, Summer Ends. Some Are Long Gone, the third in a seasonally themed quadrilogy. Twisting and reshaping the boundaries of grindcore, not unlike Beaten to Death or Big Chef, Trauma Bond douses its grind with a gravy boat full of sludge. Past the moodily tribal and convincing intro “Brushed by the Storm” lies fourteen minutes of grindy goodness (“Regards,” “Repulsion”), sludgian skullduggery (“Chewing Fat”), and caustic cantankerousness (“Thumb Skin for Dinner”). You’ll feel violated and breathless even before staring down the barrel of nine-and-a-half minute closer “Dissonance,” a gargantuanly heavy ear-fuck that will liquefy what’s left of the organs inside your worthless skin with its slow, creeping sludgeastation. I was not expecting to hear what Trauma Bond served up, as the minimalist cover art drew me in initially, but I’m digging it muchly. Independently released, Summer Ends. Some Are Long Gone is a hell of an experience and should garner Trauma Bond a label partner. I’ll be hoping for that, continuing to support them, and looking forward to whatever autumn brings.

Iceberg’s Bleak Bygones

Barshasketh // Antinomian Asceticsm [January 9th, 2025 – W.T.C Productions]

My taste for black metal runs a narrow, anti-secondwave path. I want oppressive, nightmarish atmosphere, sure, but I also crave rich, modern production and technically proficient instrumental performances. Blending the fury of early Behemoth, the cinematic scope of Deathspell Omega, and the backbeat-supported drones of Panzerfaust, Barshasketh’s latest fell square in my target area. The pealing bells of “Radiant Aperture” beckoned me into Antinomian Asceticsm’s sacred space, a dark world populated with rippling drum fills, surprisingly melodic guitar work, and a varied vocal attack that consistently keeps things fresh. With the average track length in the 6-minute territory, repeat listens are necessary to reveal layers of rhythm and synth atmosphere that give the album its complexity. A throwaway interlude (“Phaneron Engulf”) and a drop in energy in the second and third tracks stop this from being a TYMHM entry, but anyone with a passing interest in technical black metal with lots of atmosphere should check this out.

GardensTale’s Tab of Acid

I Don’t Do Drugs, I Am Drugs // I Don’t Do Drugs, I Am Drugs [January 27th, 2025 – Self-released]

When you name yourself after a famous Salvador Dalí quote, you better be prepared to back it up with an appropriate amount of weird shit. Thankfully, I Don’t Do Drugs, I Am Drugs strives to be worthy of the moniker. The band’s self-titled debut is a psychedelic prog-death nightmare of off-kilter riffs, structures that seem built upon dream logic, layers of ethereal synths and bizarre mixtures of vocal styles. The project was founded by Scott Hogg, guitarist for Cyclops Cataract, who is responsible for everything but the vocals. That includes all the songwriting. Hogg throws the listener off with an ever-shifting array of Gojira-esque plodding syncopation and thick, throbbing layers of harmonics that lean discordant without fully shifting into dissonance. But the songs float as easily into other-worldly soundscapes (“The Tree that Died in it’s[sic] Sleep”) or off-putting balladry (“Confierous”). BP of Madder Mortem handles vocals, and he displays an aptitude for the many facets required to buoy the intriguing but unintuitive music, his shouts and screams and cleans and hushes often layered together in strange strata either more or less than human. The combined result resembles a nightmare Devin may have had around 2005 after listening too much Ephel Duath. It’s not yet perfected; the ballad doesn’t quite work, and the compositions are sometimes a bit too dedicated to their lack of handholds. But it’s a hell of a trip, and a very convincing mission statement. A band to keep an eye on!

Dear Hollow’s Gunk Behooval

Bloodbark // Sacred Sound of Solitude [January 3rd, 2025 – Northern Silence Productions]

Bloodbark’s debut Bonebranches offered atmospheric black metal a minimalist spin, as cold and relentless as Paysage d’Hiver, as textured as Fen, and as barren as the mountains it depicts, exuding a natural crispness that recalls Falls of Rauros. Seven years later, we are graced with its follow-up, the majestic Sacred Sound of Solitude. Like its predecessor, the classic atmoblack template is cut with post-black to create an immensely rich and dynamic tapestry, lending all the hallmarks of frostbitten blackened sound (shrieks, blastbeats, tremolo) with the depth of a more modern approach. Twinkling leads, frosty synths, and forlorn piano survey the frigid vistas, while the more furious blackened portions scale snowbound peaks, utilized with the utmost restraint and bound by yearning chord progressions (“Glacial Respite,” “Griever’s Domain”). A new element in the act’s sound is clean vocals (“Time is Nothing,” “Augury of Snow”), which lend a far more melancholy vibe alongside trademark shrieking. Bloodbark offers top-tier atmospheric black metal, a reminder of the always-looming winter.

Great American Ghost // Tragedy of the Commons [January 31st, 2025 – SharpTone Records]

Boston’s Great American Ghost used to be extremely one-note, a coattail-rider of the likes of Kublai Khan and Knocked Loose. Deathcore muscles whose veins pulse to the beat of a hardcore heart, you’d be forgiven to see opener “Kerosene” as a sign of stagnation – chunky breakdowns and punk beats, feral barks and callouts, and a hardcore frowny face sported throughout. But Tragedy of the Commons is a far more layered affair, with echoes of metalcore past (“Ghost in Flesh,” “Hymns of Decay”), pronounced and tasteful nu-metal influence a la Deftones (“Genocide,” “Reality/Relapse”), and more variety in their rhythms and tempos, reflecting a Fit for an Autopsy-esque cutthroat intensity and ominous crescendos alongside a more pronounced influence of melody and manic dissonance (“Echoes of War,” “Forsaken”). Is it still meatheaded? Absolutely. Are its more “experimental” pieces in just well-trodden paths of metalcore bands past? Oh definitely. But gracing Great American Ghost a voice beyond the hardcore beatdowns does Tragedy of the Commons good and gives this one-trick pony another trail to wander.

Steel Druhm’s Detestible Digestibles

Guts // Nightmare Fuel [January 31st, 2025 – Self-Release]

Finland’s Guts play a weird “caveman on a Zamboni” variant of groove-heavy death metal that mixes OSDM with sludge and stoner elements for something uniquely sticky and pulversizing. On Nightmare Fuel, the material keeps grinding forward at a universal mid-tempo pace powered by phat, crushing grooves. “571” sounds like a Melvins song turned into a death metal assault, and it shouldn’t work, but it very much does. The blueprint for what Guts do is so basic, but they manage to keep cracking skulls on track after track as you remain locked in place helplessly. Nightmare Fuel is a case study into how less can be MOAR, as Guts staunchly adhere to their uncomplicated approach and make it work so well. Each track introduces a rudimentary riff and beats you savagely with it for 3-4 minutes with little variation. Things reset for the next track, and a new riff comes out to pound you into schnitzel all over again. This is the Guts experience, and you will be utterly mulched by massive prime movers like “Mortar” and “Ravenous Leech,” the latter of which sounds like an old Kyuss song refitted with death vocals and unleashed upon mankind. The relentlessly monochromatic riffs are things of minimalist elegance that you need to experience. Nightmare Fuel is a slow-motion ride straight into a brick wall, so brace for a concrete facial.