#dimmuborgir — Public Fediverse posts

Today, Megan and I drove east from Akureyri, saw waterfalls, hiked, soaked in hot baths, and drove back to Akureyri.

https://www.brentlineberry.com/posts/4066/iceland-day-4-godafoss-dimmuborgir-earth-lagoon-myvatn-and-dettifoss

#Hiking #2026IcelandTrip #Iceland #Goðafoss #Dimmuborgir #EarthLagoonMývatn #DiamondCircle #Dettifoss #Selfoss #GrösBistro

Walg appeared out of nowhere in 2021 with a debut filled with tenacious riffs, creative melodies, and impassioned performances. They have attained a sort of cult status in the years since—not quite widely known, but fiercely beloved by their fans. Their energetic fervor has swept up a few writers here at AMG, including Gardenstale, Grin Reaper, and me.1 Walg have been prolific since their debut, releasing one album per year—sometimes there’s just no stopping the creative juices from flowing. On the flip side, such a prolific release schedule risks snuffing out the candle of passion by falling into the trap of formulaic songwriting. Walg continue to conjure that amazing, infectious energy, but once you’ve heard it 3 or 4 or 5 times, it’s difficult to create that original magic. So what will it be for this sixth go-around? Will the bellows continue to feed the flames of passion, or have the flames dwindled to mere embers?

On VI, Walg still tenaciously cling to the passion that drove them on their debut. “Nevel” starts things off with your typical Walg guitar lead—energetic and catchy as hell. Subtle symphonics enhance the music and bring their style of meloblack closer to the likes of Dimmu Borgir, Old Man’s Child, and …And Oceans. Yet Walg also sound fiercely like their own beast. VI does have a slightly different vibe compared to the earlier records; it’s missing those spontaneous moments of sudden passionate melodicism that surprised and delighted on prior records. The tunes here feel more deliberately crafted and controlled. A tenacity on past works has given way to a little more restraint. Of course, they still play with hunger and deliver many exceptional melodies. They also pause more frequently for moments of quieter beauty, as on “1597” when Robert Koning sings his plaintive cleans amidst some gentle tremolos.

That Walg wildness still remains, though, and it largely comes out in the vocal performance of Yorick Keijzer. He snarls and rasps like a wounded animal. While his deranged delivery gives the impression of a record careening out of control, there’s a method to his madness. His cadence sometimes brings to mind that of Maurice Wilson (Antrisch), and it adds a distinctive character to the heart and soul of the music. While the songs themselves have more constrained structures to offset Yorick’s wildness, there is one exception. The six-minute “De Eenlonkster” is an uncaged beast that is among Walg’s most creative. From arpeggios and riffs with a country twang, to a gently sung portion accompanied by the sound of lapping waves, to a brief moment when it nearly dives into death-doom territory, “De Eenlonkster” kicks and bucks, leaving you with whiplash and a purple bruise around your eye, but you’ll be grinning, missing teeth and all, when the tune rolls to its end.

Having written dozens of songs in the six years of their existence, it’s safe to wonder if Walg are running out of ideas, especially when they deliver, at 34 minutes and 8 songs, their shortest album to date. And yet they have meticulously crafted something fabulous, still full of the Walg zeal and spark. It’s true, though, as Gardenstale pointed out in his review of V, that the veneer of their formula is starting to wear thin. There’s a sense of déjà vu when a band releases material so frequently and consistently. On VI’s weaker tracks on the back half of the record, “Stil Geboren” and “De Nacht Behoort On Allen Toes” (which are still plenty fun), the repetition is more obvious than on other tracks. The back half does have a couple of winners, however. “Het Klooster Van Ter Apel” has some creative percussion work along with a sweet riff line, while “Erfvloek” takes a more subdued route with a beautiful trem melody that provides VI a rather lovely conclusion.

My journey with VI contained moments of ups and downs. Admittedly, my initial spins left it wanting—something felt different that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Eventually, however, it clicked, and I began to again appreciate Walg’s songwriting magic. There’s a duet here between a gentle beauty and repellent wildness. Walg still sound like Walg, yet there’s a subtle evolution. They have managed to craft a very enjoyable record, and this brief package shows that Walg remain a wrecking ball force of nature in the realm of melodic black metal. However, one can hope they’re able to take a further step in their evolution on the follow-up to VI—VII.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

In the metalverse, there are plenty of unique personas, and now we can count Valira Pietrangelo among them. She has been very open in interviews about suffering from identity dysphoria. As a result, she dove into making music and eventually discovered herself as a demon.1 What better way to express your newfound demonhood than through black metal? Everything about Vesseles (pronounced veh-sel-is) revolves around Pietrangelo’s identity. The band’s name is a Latinized version of the word vessel, as in her body being a vessel containing an identity that doesn’t quite fit. In 2024, Vesseles released their debut EP, not-so-subtly titled I Am a Demon, about her inner struggles and coming out as a demon. Now with Home, Vesseles takes a more ambitious approach as Pietrangelo expands her songwriting repertoire.

This shouldn’t come as a surprise with a demon at the helm, but Home sounds sinister as hell. With a cinematic flair, Vesseles shares some similarities with the darker symphonic metal of Dimmu Borgir and SepticFlesh, yet they play with a dissonance and malevolence that draws closer comparisons to Hasard. Like with Hasard, guitars play second fiddle to the haunting strings and off-key piano notes. Joel Ferry’s demonic rasps, harsh and high, ooze hatred and venom, while the constant tempo shifts serve to keep listeners off-balance. Home is a concept album about a demon cast from one world she didn’t belong to and into another she’s not wanted. Pietrangelo entangles us in her character’s emotional state, making us feel her rage and malice through the challenging music. She may have succeeded in her approach a little too well—while I appreciate her vision, it can be difficult to enjoy at times.

Home by Vesseles

Home contains some impressive musical passages, and yet the overall style becomes taxing over time. As a result, the front half is much more effective than the back half. Opener “Flesh Throne” establishes a menacing atmosphere with its string compositions, but it’s the piano that steals the show. The dissonant piano and icy riffs on “The Beneath” create an appropriately malevolent atmosphere that’s sure to send shivers down your spine. “Home” opens with a classical-sounding, off-key piano segment that’s moving in its evil intent. “Home” is also where the record’s approach begins to falter and grate—the noisiness and constant tonal shifts take their toll over the span of a too-long six minutes. This comes to a head on the final two tracks, the weakest on Home. “Perpetual Chasm of Black Mirrors” in particular lacks the bits of brilliance of the rest of Home, and the finale, “This Is Not Home,” drags on for too long. The constant shifts—in tempo, volume, and noise levels—grow challenging to tolerate for long periods.

Ultimately, what holds Home back is the production. Vesseles suffers the same issue as Hasard’s debut—their record is just too loud. My poor ears could only take so much, and headphones only compounded the issue. There’s a moment on “Scriptures Etched Into the Mind’s Pillars” where the guitars and rasps become muted in favor of a nice string and drum segment, and I found myself breathing a sigh of relief as my ears were given a brief reprieve from the aural assault. The crushed compression also hurts the instrumentally busier passages; I found it difficult in these moments to appreciate individual performances or make out what’s going on. On one hand, this contributes to the chaotic, unsettling tone that Vesseles appears to be aiming for, but it ultimately mars some impressive songwriting.

Home is simultaneously a remarkable debut and an intolerable one. Pietrangelo successfully carries out her unsettling vision in crafting a sinister tone through complex compositions. Yet the bogeyman of poor mastering hampers her vision. Despite this, the first half of Home is quite strong and took me fondly back to my time reviewing Hasard’s Abgnose. One can only hope that she learns the same lessons Hasard did, as Abgnose’s production was a huge improvement over the debut. I have faith that this demon can wow us with her unique vision yet again, and I look forward to hearing it.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: vesseles.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/vesseles
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2026

Antinoë – The Fold Review

By Tyme

As the whispering winds of winter begin to blow colder through my neck of the woods, a time of year when fires get cozier, quaffed beers get darker, and we here at AMG begin to rhapsodize on things missed and regale readers with things listed, I found myself still searching for a near-end-of-year something new. When I saw Antinoë’s Dark Essence Records debut, The Fold, blurbily described as ‘Neoclassical Folk meets melancholy Pop with a Metal attitude,’ I was intrigued. Descending from the mountains of Madrid, Antinoë is the passion project of pianist and vocalist Teresa Marraco. Launched in 2021, Antinoë’s 2023 release, Whispers from the Dark Past, offered a unique piano tribute to the 90s Norwegian black metal scene, with Marraco covering everything from Emperor’s “I Am the Black Wizards” to Mayhem’s “Life Eternal” and Dimmu Borgir’s “Mourning Palace.”1 Poised to challenge the very fluid boundaries of what metal can be, let’s see if The Fold has the warmth necessary to keep those wintery winds at bay.

Void of instrumental trappings associated with most traditional metal, Antinoë relies solely on Marraco’s beautifully resonant voice and her expansive piano compositions to weave stygian tapestries. Conceptually, The Fold navigates the odyssey of accepting death, inviting listeners to tread a path through the idiomatic depths of grief’s different stages, as it traces the process of ‘folding inward.’ From the outset, as cricket-song fades into “Night Falls,” with its delicately crafted, darkly haunting piano melody and celestial vocals, the track pulls at melancholy heartstrings, drawing you into Antinoë’s dark world and setting the stage for what’s to come. The Fold offers an immersive, piano-led experience, peppered with pummeled ivories that shift with metallic force beneath sustained choral harmonies (“The Devil’s Voice”), as wispy trails of folky, Enya-esque ambiance waft amid airy, Dead Can Dance-like atmospheres (“Når Du Dør”). Not unlike Darkher, Antinoë succeeds at tapping into inscrutable emotion by minimalist means, but where Maiven casts spells webbed in doom, Marraco’s magic leans more toward the black arts.

While Antinoë draws much of its ‘metal’ from lyrical themes that explore the dense nature of grief and death, that doesn’t mean The Fold is musically bereft of heavier fare. Death angels descend on Emperor wings with halos of Dimmu Borgir to hover over the opening chords of “Threshold,” heralding dark omens in a chorus of swarming harmonies, witchy laughter, and raspy breaths, all as Antinoë pounds and trills her way through octaves in true symphonic black metal fashion.2 Is it still just a girl and her piano? Yes, but it’s by far the ‘heaviest’ song on the album. Which gives way to the excellently murky pop of “Chaos in the Sky,” another album highlight that had my neck snapped to rapt attention when Marracos, in her smoky voice, opened with “Who the fuck are you? Who the fuck am I?” like some dark-alt Adele, creating another moment more metal than not.

Drenched in warmth, The Fold’s production captures the beauty of Antinoë’s neo-classical elegance and marries it perfectly to its atmospherically blackened weight, providing a full-on musical experience. Whether it’s the delicate last minute of “The Devil’s Voice,” which flirts with a “Lágnætti” melody, off the Sólstafir magnum opus Ottá, or the inquisitive, childlike mystery of the whispers and keys on “Flock,” to the somber dirge of vocals from “Light Bringer,” listening to Antinoë is to become utterly immersed. I have little to critique, so enamored am I by Antinoë’s ability to impart complex ideas in the simplest of terms. I suppose there’s a minute or two that Marraco could have shaved from the two instrumentals, but in all honesty, there’s not a minute of The Fold that I would cut or change.

One of the things I’ve always appreciated about AMG is its fearlessness in shedding light on bands that are categorically not metal. Case in point, among many, is Dolphin Whisperer’s review of Maud the Moth’s excellent The Distaff this year. Antinoë has recorded an emotional album for healing hearts, and as I look back on the last few years of losses I’ve experienced, I’m unsurprised by how impactful it’s been to me. I wasn’t expecting something of this caliber to come sweeping in so close to list season, but here we are. I’ll gladly wrap myself in a warm blanket next to a cozy fire, slip on my favorite pair of headphones, and sip a smoky porter while letting The Fold envelop me against the impending winter’s chill.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Dark Essence Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: November 21st, 2025

#2025 #40 #ambient #antinoe #darkher #deadCanDance #dimmuBorgir #emperor #enya #notMetal #nov25 #piano #review #spanishMetal #theFold

#metal #blackmetal #blackmetalband #heavymetal #egitarre #corpsepaint #dimmuborgir #band #bandprobe #rausschmiss #comic #cartoon #funny