#dissection — Public Fediverse posts

DISSECTION (Suècia) presenta nou Boxed set: "Reinkaos" #Dissection #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Agost2026 #Suècia #NouBoxedSet #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

La Vérité est un pays sans chemin (Krishnamurti)

https://arbrealettres.wordpress.com/2026/08/03/la-verite-est-un-pays-sans-chemin-krishnamurti/

La Vérité est un pays sans chemin (Krishnamurti)

https://arbrealettres.wordpress.com/2026/08/03/la-verite-est-un-pays-sans-chemin-krishnamurti/

Like those programmers who insist on rebuilding every line of code in Python, New York’s black metal woodland-walkers Astral Alchemy envision a universe unraveled down to its last atom. That process is captured in their debut record, Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds. With five tracks and just shy of forty minutes of music, that’s a lot of ground to cover in little time. From the duo of guitarist/bassist/vocalist He Who Walks under the Bloodmoon and drummer/guitarist He Who Wields Twin Scepters of Malice, Astral Alchemy invites you to “Let the power of the stars guide you and the atmospheric universe coalesce the accounts of dreamworlds becoming reality.” But black metal bands are always talking big on how mystical and esoteric they are. Does Astral Alchemy have the magic, or is the only thing cold about Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds how it leaves me in the end?

Astral Alchemy aren’t reinventing the wheel, but they sure get it spinning on Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds. Evoking the grandeur of Emperor and the riffing belligerence of Dissection, Astral Alchemy wields second-wave sorcery through darkly atmospheric soundscapes. Particularly in early cuts like “Tria Prima Offering to the Great Serpent” and “Bathing in the Sap of the Moonflower,” Dreamworlds plays it straight in entwining blast beat-downs with synthesized choirs and symphonics, shifting between creeping, distorted arpeggios and furious tremolos. Where Astral Alchemy stand out is in execution: Dreamworlds is a living, angry beast. Astral Alchemy’s guitar tone is thick, burly, and good for turning their dense, high-octane riffs into weapons of cosmic warfare. Drumming on Dreamworlds is scathing and thunderous, but just as menacing in its slower moments like the Mayhemic crawls of “Tria Prima…” or the crushing back half of “Stars of Ruin.” Topped off with intricately layered synths and husky, ravenous rasps, Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds becomes a particularly engrossing listen.

Like earthly alchemy, Astral Alchemy take simple ingredients and transmute them in subliminal ways while Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds. With midpoint “Stars of Ruin,” Dreamworlds takes an unexpected turn: it slams. Halfway through, Astral Alchemy turned my head with its melodic, borderline metalcore chug riff before stopping and breaking my neck with a groovy, ignorant death riff and ear-splitting Breeeeeeee. It’s nuts. Forwarding Astral Alchemy’s march towards weirdness, “Collapse of the Cosmos” bookends its tremolo madness with Hexrotting electronic glitches and atmospherics1 while the epic, SotY-contending “Eyes through the Speculum” punches bright, downright uplifting progressions into Dreamworld’s frigid mold and somehow makes it work. Songs on Dreamworlds just don’t sit still; “Eyes…” bounces between airy acoustics to thick post-metal riffing to ethereal synths while comparatively normal tracks like “Bathing in the Sap of the Moonflower” still find ways to inject variation in rhythm and dissonance in melody. Simply, Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds sees Astral Alchemy operate within the established tropes of black metal without being beholden to them.

Authenticity isn’t something black metal is known for, but that’s exactly the impression I get from Astral Alchemy. Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworld’s lyricism is rooted in genuine alchemical philosophy (“Tria Prima Offering to the Great Serpent”), espousing the significance of transformation through destruction and synthesis. Everything about Astral Alchemy’s approach to songwriting—from the seamless melding of passages to the constant iterations on motifs to the dynamism of tone and energy—stands in accordance with these values. Astral Alchemy aren’t concerned with sounding “kvlt;” Dreamworlds’ mix and production sounds too crisp for that, despite its modest DR score. Instead, Astral Alchemy is very much guided by the pursuit of an esoteric soundscape of boundless creative and destructive energy. Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds isn’t perfect in this regard—the first two tracks lose some steam by the end and “Collapse of the Cosmos” is somewhat standard-issue outside of its electronics—but you also don’t get much better than it either.

Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds isn’t a great title—it doesn’t want to roll off the tongue at all—but it is apt. Abrasive, melodic, twisted, and just plain big, this first showing from Astral Alchemy honestly has me wondering if this duo is industry veterans in disguise. The confidence with which they carry themselves on Dreamworlds would be impressive for fresh musicians; it translates to impressive music in my headphones regardless. When much of black metal feels like a race to the bottom of the barrel, Astral Alchemy’s fresh take on the blackened arts is truly exciting. Weave on, Astral Alchemy!

Rating: Great!
DR: 6| Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Naturmacht Productions
Websites: astralalchemybm.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/AstralAlchemyMusic
Releases Worldwide: June 25th, 2026

Like those programmers who insist on rebuilding every line of code in Python, New York’s black metal woodland-walkers Astral Alchemy envision a universe unraveled down to its last atom. That process is captured in their debut record, Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds. With five tracks and just shy of forty minutes of music, that’s a lot of ground to cover in little time. From the duo of guitarist/bassist/vocalist He Who Walks under the Bloodmoon and drummer/guitarist He Who Wields Twin Scepters of Malice, Astral Alchemy invites you to “Let the power of the stars guide you and the atmospheric universe coalesce the accounts of dreamworlds becoming reality.” But black metal bands are always talking big on how mystical and esoteric they are. Does Astral Alchemy have the magic, or is the only thing cold about Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds how it leaves me in the end?

Astral Alchemy aren’t reinventing the wheel, but they sure get it spinning on Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds. Evoking the grandeur of Emperor and the riffing belligerence of Dissection, Astral Alchemy wields second-wave sorcery through darkly atmospheric soundscapes. Particularly in early cuts like “Tria Prima Offering to the Great Serpent” and “Bathing in the Sap of the Moonflower,” Dreamworlds plays it straight in entwining blast beat-downs with synthesized choirs and symphonics, shifting between creeping, distorted arpeggios and furious tremolos. Where Astral Alchemy stand out is in execution: Dreamworlds is a living, angry beast. Astral Alchemy’s guitar tone is thick, burly, and good for turning their dense, high-octane riffs into weapons of cosmic warfare. Drumming on Dreamworlds is scathing and thunderous, but just as menacing in its slower moments like the Mayhemic crawls of “Tria Prima…” or the crushing back half of “Stars of Ruin.” Topped off with intricately layered synths and husky, ravenous rasps, Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds becomes a particularly engrossing listen.

Like earthly alchemy, Astral Alchemy take simple ingredients and transmute them in subliminal ways while Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds. With midpoint “Stars of Ruin,” Dreamworlds takes an unexpected turn: it slams. Halfway through, Astral Alchemy turned my head with its melodic, borderline metalcore chug riff before stopping and breaking my neck with a groovy, ignorant death riff and ear-splitting Breeeeeeee. It’s nuts. Forwarding Astral Alchemy’s march towards weirdness, “Collapse of the Cosmos” bookends its tremolo madness with Hexrotting electronic glitches and atmospherics1 while the epic, SotY-contending “Eyes through the Speculum” punches bright, downright uplifting progressions into Dreamworld’s frigid mold and somehow makes it work. Songs on Dreamworlds just don’t sit still; “Eyes…” bounces between airy acoustics to thick post-metal riffing to ethereal synths while comparatively normal tracks like “Bathing in the Sap of the Moonflower” still find ways to inject variation in rhythm and dissonance in melody. Simply, Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds sees Astral Alchemy operate within the established tropes of black metal without being beholden to them.

Authenticity isn’t something black metal is known for, but that’s exactly the impression I get from Astral Alchemy. Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworld’s lyricism is rooted in genuine alchemical philosophy (“Tria Prima Offering to the Great Serpent”), espousing the significance of transformation through destruction and synthesis. Everything about Astral Alchemy’s approach to songwriting—from the seamless melding of passages to the constant iterations on motifs to the dynamism of tone and energy—stands in accordance with these values. Astral Alchemy aren’t concerned with sounding “kvlt;” Dreamworlds’ mix and production sounds too crisp for that, despite its modest DR score. Instead, Astral Alchemy is very much guided by the pursuit of an esoteric soundscape of boundless creative and destructive energy. Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds isn’t perfect in this regard—the first two tracks lose some steam by the end and “Collapse of the Cosmos” is somewhat standard-issue outside of its electronics—but you also don’t get much better than it either.

Weaving Chilling Magical Dreamworlds isn’t a great title—it doesn’t want to roll off the tongue at all—but it is apt. Abrasive, melodic, twisted, and just plain big, this first showing from Astral Alchemy honestly has me wondering if this duo is industry veterans in disguise. The confidence with which they carry themselves on Dreamworlds would be impressive for fresh musicians; it translates to impressive music in my headphones regardless. When much of black metal feels like a race to the bottom of the barrel, Astral Alchemy’s fresh take on the blackened arts is truly exciting. Weave on, Astral Alchemy!

Rating: Great!
DR: 6| Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Naturmacht Productions
Websites: astralalchemybm.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/AstralAlchemyMusic
Releases Worldwide: June 25th, 2026

Rain has started to leak into the ducts as Spring gets wetter and wetter. While I’m away, vacationing in a nice, dry, cloudy place, my minions are drenched and miserable. As it should be! But I’m still keeping tabs on their progress. Just because I’m having a great time somewhere else doesn’t mean these louts don’t have a quota to meet!

And meet their quota they shall, if only barely… BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s Sci-Fi Soundbites

Epigram // Obsolescent [March 6th, 2026 – Self Released]

Combining the melodic black metal of Thulcandra and Dissection with the symphonics of Fleshgod Apocalypse and SepticFlesh, Epigram dropped a tasty little morsel with their debut, Obsolescent. The trio from Los Angeles puts on a spirited performance that borders on thrash. Tim Cauley’s display on the kit is a dominant force as he furiously blast beats his way from one song to the next. He turns “Wrath of Betrayed” into a piece of blackened thrash and proves tireless across Obsolescent’s 27-minute runtime. The lively vocal performance of Luis Echevarria adds further to Epigram’s charm. His low growls may seem underpowered, but his delivery is energetic and fun. He’s also the source of the symphonic instrumentation, via synths, though this aspect is secondary. Sure, there’s some choral chants (“Myrmidon,” “The Usurper’s Throne”), strings (“Hour of Gods”), and other vaguely symphonic sounds, but Epigram is most focused on the blackened melodic stuff. Shadi Absi throws together some great riffs, particularly on “Empires,” a work of pure black ‘n roll. The showstopper is “Hour of Gods,” with some sweet riffs and terrific energy. This song alone makes Obsolescent a worthy spin. Rounding out the musicians is Sanjay Kumar (Inferi, Wormhole), who plays solos on “Wrath of Betrayed” and “No Sin.” This is a promising debut for an eager new band.

Kal-El // Astral Voyager Vol. 2 [March 20th, 2026 – Blues Funeral Recordings]

Sporting the greatest band name of all time, Kal-El have been blasting listeners with stoner doom since 2012. Astral Voyager Vol. 2 is the follow-up to last year’s Vol. 1, and these pyschedelians’s seventh album overall. It’s been seven years since Witches of Mars was unfairly pummeled by a Kryptonian frog, and now I’d like to do the band justice by rescuing them from our filter. On this astral voyage, you get the pleasure of listening to six songs and 42 minutes of laid-back stoner tunes with plenty of fuzzy riffs—perfect for cruising around the cosmos. Their riff-centric approach puts them in the Black Sabbath camp, and the riffs on the likes of “Juno” and “The Prophecy,” which has a “Children of the Grave” vibe, are tons of fun. Further cementing the Sabbath comp is the vocal performance of Ståle Rodvelt, who carries a resemblance to Ozzy in his delivery. Longer cuts take more exploratory routes, akin to Sleep, yet still feature plenty to get your head bobbin’. “Asteroid” opens up with some sweet riffs that sustain its near eight-minute frame, while “The Nine” will still have you singing along in the final of its ten minutes. 1 So if you are in the mood for something chill that won’t put you to sleep, something that has the riffs without the risk of elevating your blood pressure, you should spend some time with Kal-El.

Thus Spoke’s Tectonic Treat

Bong-Ra // Esoterik [March 20th, 2026 – Debemur Morti Productions]

Not having received promo, it was only upon visiting DM’s Bandcamp page while writing up Aversio Humanitatis that I realised Bong-Ra had released another album. Asked whether Esoterik would be leaning more into enigmatic doom or spiky industrial electronica, the shapeshifting Bong-Ra said “yes”. The music is built on layers of dense, gritty atmosphere undulating with bass, breakbeats, and distorted riffs. Vocals are maintained from Black Noise—half-spoken snarls blurred by noise, shifting between blunt tunefulness (“Serpentine Helix”) and gargling venom (“Machine Halo”)—but at least half of the space is devoted to the purely instrumental psychosis. The saxophone is back, adding bizarre elegance and chilling eeriness in equal measure. Sometimes, Esoterik seems to be pitting its sultry and acerbic natures against one another; that chamber jazz side can take one by surprise (“Pleasures of the Flesh,” “Duality of One”), sandwiched as it is between a more punishing industrialism, but Bong-Ra just about gets away with it. This could be down to Esoterik’s efficiency in establishing (new) grooves—rhythmic and stylistic. Opener “Harmony Cloak” dispels misgivings on its skittering electronic oddity with a chorus that strikes a stylish balance between melody and dissonance; “Machine Halo” later follows in its stride. It’s an album that earns its moniker, right down to the particular spelling, and is worth the dark diversion it requires.

Grin Reaper’s Kooky Curios

Surturian // II – Hessian Spears [March 13th, 2026 – Crawling Chaos]

A German thrash band named after the legendary fire giant and guardian of Muspelheim? And on their debut LP, they launch an unrelenting, venomous assault filled with sticky riffs and bopping bass grooves in under forty-five minutes? Sign me up! Surturian plays thrash that smacks of early Testament and Metallica fused with the epic melodies of latter-day Kreator—hell, vocalist Tim Krogull reeks of Mille’s rancorous vocals, even though his name hews closer to a Voivodian disposition. In addition to thrash influences, Surturian calls upon Maiden’s signature gallops (“Cimmerians Wrath”) and anthemic melodies (“⁠Night Stalker,” “Do What Thou Wilt”), inculcating a lofty grandeur throughout II – Hessian Spears. Further fanning Surturian’s flames, the outfit navigates a varied landscape that imbues each track with its own character while never straying too far from their core sound. Hard-hitting offensives (“Blood Witchery”), slinky licks (“Night Stalker”), and oddball songwriting (“Beneath a Dying Sky”2) unite into an album I’ve regularly returned to since discovering it. If you’re feeling unSurtain, take it from me—it’s always a good time for some Hessian aggression!

Barn // Crucibles [March 24th, 2026 – Self Released]

Thanks to a certain dude/guy in the comments section, Crucibles didn’t slip past me undetected. Despite their dubious band name, Barn dropped a humdinger slab of tech death back in March that oozes with references to Unquestionable Presence (Atheist), Focus (Cynic), and, to a lesser extent, Decrepit Birth.3 There are even moments that echo more subdued moments from recent Sallow Moth releases (“The Serpent’s Perpetual Shed”). Staccato bursts of guitar, pinch harmonics, and buttery, fretless bass glissandos epitomize what Barn offers, and they spread it thick and chunky all over Crucibles’ sixty-five-minute runtime. Rustic name notwithstanding, Barn’s latest sounds like a sci-fi adventure, supported by track names like “Black Hole Lens” and “Cymatics.” The fretless bass especially helps with the futuristic aesthetic, frictionlessly gliding through gusts of abrupt, otherworldly guitars that buffet tracks from all angles. Barn rarely offers reprieve during their unconventional onslaught, but tracks like “Forbidden Fruits,” “Cymatics,” and “The Defeater” achieve such heights that I don’t find myself needing one. In short, these Boise boys warp listeners to a different dimension on Crucibles, and though it runs a tad long, I haven’t been deterred yet from lighting up this Barnburner.

Dionysiaque // La Tourbe des Rêves [March 27th, 2026 – I, Voidhanger Records]

Dionysiaque dispenses a bizarre derivative of doom on La Tourbe des Rêves that’s sure to be equal parts captivating and divisive. Reaching into the bag of tricks defined by Cathedral, Black Sabbath, and Candlemass, Dionysiaque’s sophomore album lumbers and chugs with classic rock-inspired leads and firecracker songcraft that I find utterly enthralling. Songs like “Aaron,” “Hate Fruit,” and “The Two Headed Boy” spotlight Dionysiaque’s plaintive guitar wails, contributed by L.B. and Bruno Penserini, along with their savvy balance of somber atmospheres and rousing melodies. Buoying the guitar tandem, bassist Lethal lays down frolicking, fabulous thunder via absorbing countermelodies while drummer T.H. looses potent fills and rolls throughout. Soaring atop the instrumentation are N.C.’s unorthodox vocals, which will almost certainly be the sole determining factor in listeners’ ability to engage with La Tourbe des Rêves. His delivery recalls that of Mayhem’s Attila Csihar at his most operatically deranged, never lacking conviction yet occasionally overpowering and ostentatious. Still, I appreciate and enjoy the commitment to the unhinged performance, and although dialing it back a little would make Dionysiaque’s latest more accessible, I’ve come to love La Tourbe des Rêves without apology. So don’t be afraid to let a little love into your heart—go get debauched with Dionysiaque’s aphrodisiac.

Creeping Ivy’s Pandemonic Pleasure

Mammon’s Throne // My Body to the Worms [March 13th, 2026 – Hammerheart Records]

In advising his fellow fallen angels—recently expelled from Heaven—to turn Hell into a competing kingdom, Mammon projects that All Demons will ‘work ease out of pain / Through labor and endurance.’4 Satan doesn’t heed this advice, but the third LP from Mammon’s Throne arguably does. On My Body to the Worms, this Australian five-piece inflicts pleasurable pain upon metaldom via five filthy slabs of sludgy death-doom (plus two instrumental reprieves). Mammon’s Throne conjure Hooded Menace, Temple of Void, and (old) Worm in their proclivity for plodding tempos, swampy riffs, and gravely howls (“Elixir”). The album is also a labor of love for classic (death-) doom à la Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride, mixing gothy croons, ascendant melodicism, and haunting piano into the band’s sinister stew (“Every Day More Sickened,” “At the Threshold of Eternity”). Though the listener does need some endurance, as three of the five non-instrumentals hover in the 8–9 minute range, the record flows fluidly across an easy 42 minutes. If you ever wondered what metal in league with Mammon might sound like, give My Body to the Worms a spin.

Rain has started to leak into the ducts as Spring gets wetter and wetter. While I’m away, vacationing in a nice, dry, cloudy place, my minions are drenched and miserable. As it should be! But I’m still keeping tabs on their progress. Just because I’m having a great time somewhere else doesn’t mean these louts don’t have a quota to meet!

And meet their quota they shall, if only barely… BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s Sci-Fi Soundbites

Epigram // Obsolescent [March 6th, 2026 – Self Released]

Combining the melodic black metal of Thulcandra and Dissection with the symphonics of Fleshgod Apocalypse and SepticFlesh, Epigram dropped a tasty little morsel with their debut, Obsolescent. The trio from Los Angeles puts on a spirited performance that borders on thrash. Tim Cauley’s display on the kit is a dominant force as he furiously blast beats his way from one song to the next. He turns “Wrath of Betrayed” into a piece of blackened thrash and proves tireless across Obsolescent’s 27-minute runtime. The lively vocal performance of Luis Echevarria adds further to Epigram’s charm. His low growls may seem underpowered, but his delivery is energetic and fun. He’s also the source of the symphonic instrumentation, via synths, though this aspect is secondary. Sure, there’s some choral chants (“Myrmidon,” “The Usurper’s Throne”), strings (“Hour of Gods”), and other vaguely symphonic sounds, but Epigram is most focused on the blackened melodic stuff. Shadi Absi throws together some great riffs, particularly on “Empires,” a work of pure black ‘n roll. The showstopper is “Hour of Gods,” with some sweet riffs and terrific energy. This song alone makes Obsolescent a worthy spin. Rounding out the musicians is Sanjay Kumar (Inferi, Wormhole), who plays solos on “Wrath of Betrayed” and “No Sin.” This is a promising debut for an eager new band.

Kal-El // Astral Voyager Vol. 2 [March 20th, 2026 – Blues Funeral Recordings]

Sporting the greatest band name of all time, Kal-El have been blasting listeners with stoner doom since 2012. Astral Voyager Vol. 2 is the follow-up to last year’s Vol. 1, and these pyschedelians’s seventh album overall. It’s been seven years since Witches of Mars was unfairly pummeled by a Kryptonian frog, and now I’d like to do the band justice by rescuing them from our filter. On this astral voyage, you get the pleasure of listening to six songs and 42 minutes of laid-back stoner tunes with plenty of fuzzy riffs—perfect for cruising around the cosmos. Their riff-centric approach puts them in the Black Sabbath camp, and the riffs on the likes of “Juno” and “The Prophecy,” which has a “Children of the Grave” vibe, are tons of fun. Further cementing the Sabbath comp is the vocal performance of Ståle Rodvelt, who carries a resemblance to Ozzy in his delivery. Longer cuts take more exploratory routes, akin to Sleep, yet still feature plenty to get your head bobbin’. “Asteroid” opens up with some sweet riffs that sustain its near eight-minute frame, while “The Nine” will still have you singing along in the final of its ten minutes. 1 So if you are in the mood for something chill that won’t put you to sleep, something that has the riffs without the risk of elevating your blood pressure, you should spend some time with Kal-El.

Thus Spoke’s Tectonic Treat

Bong-Ra // Esoterik [March 20th, 2026 – Debemur Morti Productions]

Not having received promo, it was only upon visiting DM’s Bandcamp page while writing up Aversio Humanitatis that I realised Bong-Ra had released another album. Asked whether Esoterik would be leaning more into enigmatic doom or spiky industrial electronica, the shapeshifting Bong-Ra said “yes”. The music is built on layers of dense, gritty atmosphere undulating with bass, breakbeats, and distorted riffs. Vocals are maintained from Black Noise—half-spoken snarls blurred by noise, shifting between blunt tunefulness (“Serpentine Helix”) and gargling venom (“Machine Halo”)—but at least half of the space is devoted to the purely instrumental psychosis. The saxophone is back, adding bizarre elegance and chilling eeriness in equal measure. Sometimes, Esoterik seems to be pitting its sultry and acerbic natures against one another; that chamber jazz side can take one by surprise (“Pleasures of the Flesh,” “Duality of One”), sandwiched as it is between a more punishing industrialism, but Bong-Ra just about gets away with it. This could be down to Esoterik’s efficiency in establishing (new) grooves—rhythmic and stylistic. Opener “Harmony Cloak” dispels misgivings on its skittering electronic oddity with a chorus that strikes a stylish balance between melody and dissonance; “Machine Halo” later follows in its stride. It’s an album that earns its moniker, right down to the particular spelling, and is worth the dark diversion it requires.

Grin Reaper’s Kooky Curios

Surturian // II – Hessian Spears [March 13th, 2026 – Crawling Chaos]

A German thrash band named after the legendary fire giant and guardian of Muspelheim? And on their debut LP, they launch an unrelenting, venomous assault filled with sticky riffs and bopping bass grooves in under forty-five minutes? Sign me up! Surturian plays thrash that smacks of early Testament and Metallica fused with the epic melodies of latter-day Kreator—hell, vocalist Tim Krogull reeks of Mille’s rancorous vocals, even though his name hews closer to a Voivodian disposition. In addition to thrash influences, Surturian calls upon Maiden’s signature gallops (“Cimmerians Wrath”) and anthemic melodies (“⁠Night Stalker,” “Do What Thou Wilt”), inculcating a lofty grandeur throughout II – Hessian Spears. Further fanning Surturian’s flames, the outfit navigates a varied landscape that imbues each track with its own character while never straying too far from their core sound. Hard-hitting offensives (“Blood Witchery”), slinky licks (“Night Stalker”), and oddball songwriting (“Beneath a Dying Sky”2) unite into an album I’ve regularly returned to since discovering it. If you’re feeling unSurtain, take it from me—it’s always a good time for some Hessian aggression!

Barn // Crucibles [March 24th, 2026 – Self Released]

Thanks to a certain dude/guy in the comments section, Crucibles didn’t slip past me undetected. Despite their dubious band name, Barn dropped a humdinger slab of tech death back in March that oozes with references to Unquestionable Presence (Atheist), Focus (Cynic), and, to a lesser extent, Decrepit Birth.3 There are even moments that echo more subdued moments from recent Sallow Moth releases (“The Serpent’s Perpetual Shed”). Staccato bursts of guitar, pinch harmonics, and buttery, fretless bass glissandos epitomize what Barn offers, and they spread it thick and chunky all over Crucibles’ sixty-five-minute runtime. Rustic name notwithstanding, Barn’s latest sounds like a sci-fi adventure, supported by track names like “Black Hole Lens” and “Cymatics.” The fretless bass especially helps with the futuristic aesthetic, frictionlessly gliding through gusts of abrupt, otherworldly guitars that buffet tracks from all angles. Barn rarely offers reprieve during their unconventional onslaught, but tracks like “Forbidden Fruits,” “Cymatics,” and “The Defeater” achieve such heights that I don’t find myself needing one. In short, these Boise boys warp listeners to a different dimension on Crucibles, and though it runs a tad long, I haven’t been deterred yet from lighting up this Barnburner.

Dionysiaque // La Tourbe des Rêves [March 27th, 2026 – I, Voidhanger Records]

Dionysiaque dispenses a bizarre derivative of doom on La Tourbe des Rêves that’s sure to be equal parts captivating and divisive. Reaching into the bag of tricks defined by Cathedral, Black Sabbath, and Candlemass, Dionysiaque’s sophomore album lumbers and chugs with classic rock-inspired leads and firecracker songcraft that I find utterly enthralling. Songs like “Aaron,” “Hate Fruit,” and “The Two Headed Boy” spotlight Dionysiaque’s plaintive guitar wails, contributed by L.B. and Bruno Penserini, along with their savvy balance of somber atmospheres and rousing melodies. Buoying the guitar tandem, bassist Lethal lays down frolicking, fabulous thunder via absorbing countermelodies while drummer T.H. looses potent fills and rolls throughout. Soaring atop the instrumentation are N.C.’s unorthodox vocals, which will almost certainly be the sole determining factor in listeners’ ability to engage with La Tourbe des Rêves. His delivery recalls that of Mayhem’s Attila Csihar at his most operatically deranged, never lacking conviction yet occasionally overpowering and ostentatious. Still, I appreciate and enjoy the commitment to the unhinged performance, and although dialing it back a little would make Dionysiaque’s latest more accessible, I’ve come to love La Tourbe des Rêves without apology. So don’t be afraid to let a little love into your heart—go get debauched with Dionysiaque’s aphrodisiac.

Creeping Ivy’s Pandemonic Pleasure

Mammon’s Throne // My Body to the Worms [March 13th, 2026 – Hammerheart Records]

In advising his fellow fallen angels—recently expelled from Heaven—to turn Hell into a competing kingdom, Mammon projects that All Demons will ‘work ease out of pain / Through labor and endurance.’4 Satan doesn’t heed this advice, but the third LP from Mammon’s Throne arguably does. On My Body to the Worms, this Australian five-piece inflicts pleasurable pain upon metaldom via five filthy slabs of sludgy death-doom (plus two instrumental reprieves). Mammon’s Throne conjure Hooded Menace, Temple of Void, and (old) Worm in their proclivity for plodding tempos, swampy riffs, and gravely howls (“Elixir”). The album is also a labor of love for classic (death-) doom à la Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride, mixing gothy croons, ascendant melodicism, and haunting piano into the band’s sinister stew (“Every Day More Sickened,” “At the Threshold of Eternity”). Though the listener does need some endurance, as three of the five non-instrumentals hover in the 8–9 minute range, the record flows fluidly across an easy 42 minutes. If you ever wondered what metal in league with Mammon might sound like, give My Body to the Worms a spin.

A useful and gentlemanly way of cracking open a cold one with the boys

https://piefed.social/c/historymemes/p/2115371/a-useful-and-gentlemanly-way-of-cracking-open-a-cold-one-with-the-boys

A useful and gentlemanly way of cracking open a cold one with the boys

https://piefed.social/c/historymemes/p/2115371/a-useful-and-gentlemanly-way-of-cracking-open-a-cold-one-with-the-boys

Ad ⚔️ #ETERNALEVIL 's new album Forever Feared was released just a few days ago!
Packed with sharp riffs and an old-school thrash sound, it's a must-hear for fans of early Slayer, #Kreator, #Destruction, #Dissection, and #Exodus

🔥 https://bfan.link/forever-feared

🙌 #ElevatorRecords
💿 #ListenableRecords

Illustration by Friedrich Lehmann, Ludwig Heinrich Bojanus, from Anatome Testudinis Europaeae (1821).

Source: Harvard University / Biodiversity Heritage Library

https://pdimagearchive.org/images/564f9d97-9986-4f22-9bec-fe438babe877

#anatomy #zoology #dissection #turtles #bojanus #art #publicdomain

Illustration by Friedrich Lehmann, Ludwig Heinrich Bojanus, from Anatome Testudinis Europaeae (1821).

Source: Harvard University / Biodiversity Heritage Library

https://pdimagearchive.org/images/564f9d97-9986-4f22-9bec-fe438babe877

#anatomy #zoology #dissection #turtles #bojanus #art #publicdomain

Ars Technica wants us to believe that #AI #overlord was cornered into reading his #diary like it’s a #courtroom #drama 🍿📖. Because nothing says "serious #tech journalism" like a grown man's bedtime ramblings being dissected by a jury of his peers 🙄.
https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2026/05/openai-president-explains-to-jury-why-his-diary-entries-sound-greedy/ #Journalism #Dissection #HackerNews #ngated

Ars Technica wants us to believe that #AI #overlord was cornered into reading his #diary like it’s a #courtroom #drama 🍿📖. Because nothing says "serious #tech journalism" like a grown man's bedtime ramblings being dissected by a jury of his peers 🙄.
https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2026/05/openai-president-explains-to-jury-why-his-diary-entries-sound-greedy/ #Journalism #Dissection #HackerNews #ngated

Since releasing Magnum Opus four years ago, Philadelphia’s IATT has refined their songwriting toolkit to incorporate an even wider array of ideas and sounds. New platter Etheric Realms of the Night demonstrates a compositional leap as IATT weaves a grandiose concept into music—specifically, exploring the deconstruction of consciousness as wakeful awareness decays amongst the capricious environs of the subliminal. This abstract notion is rife with potential, offering boundless possibilities for artistic exploration. Broadly speaking, IATT follows a fascinating trajectory, covering a lot of ground with each release and honing their craft remarkably since their debut. With their latest offering, can IATT send us into Etheric Realms of delight?

Etheric Realms of the Night surges with ideas and instrumentation, entwining ephemeral beauty and scathing dissonance into a fugue-like fever dream. Prior albums Nomenclature and Magnum Opus reference stalwarts Opeth, Enslaved, and Dissection, melding melody with brutality to wondrous effect. Etheric Realms of the Night retains the core of IATT’s sound while expanding it even further into flamboyantly progressive territory à la Ihsahn and Thy Catafalque, and it’s this pivot that unites Etheric Realms’ music and concept so cohesively. The flute, performed by Didier Malherbe, sets the tone at the beginning of lead track “Drift Away.” Light, airy, and flitting, its inclusion is a masterstroke in evoking dreams’ fleeting substance. Piano lines weave in and out of the compositions, enriching the gorgeously textured cascades of IATT’s dense soundscape with vague impressions of a lullaby. Yet no matter how busy any particular moment is, each facet plays in service to the whole, engendering an astonishing coherence through Etheric Realms despite the diversity of components.

The overarching narrative on Etheric Realms of the Night follows the mind’s state of consciousness as sleep erodes the physics of reality, sending us deep into the impenetrable murk of unfiltered inputs and perceptions. “Drift Away” begins with a tandem of acoustic strumming played under a lilting flute, leading to a VoiceOver thought exercise that establishes a loose framework for Etheric Realms.1 From there, the track launches into harsh vocals alongside soaring strings that give way to heartfelt cleans, a groovy drum shuffle, punchy bass countermelodies, and sprightly piano flourishes. It’s the perfect introduction for what IATT accomplishes throughout Etheric Realms, as atmospheres consistently dart and lurch in unexpected directions. This approach synchronizes perfectly with the ephemeral temperament of dreams, where paradigms are kaleidoscopic, and no foothold lasts longer than a breath. So, too, does IATT’s songwriting shift and evolve throughout Etheric Realms’ runtime, with themes and motifs fading and reemerging in altered forms.

Etheric Realms’ success hinges on performances that can support the concept IATT sets in motion, and here, too, they deliver in spades. The guitars feature prominently on Magnum Opus, frequently stepping out to deliver showy licks and sure-fingered solos. On Etheric Realms, guitarists Joe Cantamessa and Alec Pezzano are no less capable and still deliver electrifying leads and riffs. Yet it’s their restraint that works best, giving room for other parts to dazzle. Paul Cole’s drumming hypnotizes as he adopts different styles throughout, including a dance-ready samba pattern on “Pavor Nocturnus” and a Portnoyesque rumble toward the back end of “Somniphobia.” Meanwhile, bassist/vocalist Jay Briscoe unleashes the best performance of his career so far, issuing a variety of black metal rasps and lower register roars along with effective cleans. Briscoe’s stately bass lines deserve praise as well, sauntering into the spotlight or supporting with gravelly grooves as needed. Also, the saxophone on “Walk Amongst,” played by Jørgen Munkeby (Emperor, Shining), wails with such emotion and moxie that I get goosebumps every time I listen. Every moment on Etheric Realms feels well-considered and expertly crafted, and the way it all fits together is transcendent.

Etheric Realms of the Night is an unabashed triumph. In my time at AMG, this is the only review I’ve tarried on because I didn’t want to stop listening to the album. IATT supplies an arresting three-quarters of an hour that sets my dopamine release valve to ‘GUSH,’ and Etheric Realms claims a residency in my gray matter that haunts me day and night. Every time “Hypnos” concludes, I’m left mesmerized and enamored with IATT’s swirling moods and seamless conglomeration of ideas. While it’s too early for me to think about list season,2 the subconscious pull Etheric Realms possesses only grows stronger with each visit, and I dare to dream of writing about it again.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Black Lion Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

Since releasing Magnum Opus four years ago, Philadelphia’s IATT has refined their songwriting toolkit to incorporate an even wider array of ideas and sounds. New platter Etheric Realms of the Night demonstrates a compositional leap as IATT weaves a grandiose concept into music—specifically, exploring the deconstruction of consciousness as wakeful awareness decays amongst the capricious environs of the subliminal. This abstract notion is rife with potential, offering boundless possibilities for artistic exploration. Broadly speaking, IATT follows a fascinating trajectory, covering a lot of ground with each release and honing their craft remarkably since their debut. With their latest offering, can IATT send us into Etheric Realms of delight?

Etheric Realms of the Night surges with ideas and instrumentation, entwining ephemeral beauty and scathing dissonance into a fugue-like fever dream. Prior albums Nomenclature and Magnum Opus reference stalwarts Opeth, Enslaved, and Dissection, melding melody with brutality to wondrous effect. Etheric Realms of the Night retains the core of IATT’s sound while expanding it even further into flamboyantly progressive territory à la Ihsahn and Thy Catafalque, and it’s this pivot that unites Etheric Realms’ music and concept so cohesively. The flute, performed by Didier Malherbe, sets the tone at the beginning of lead track “Drift Away.” Light, airy, and flitting, its inclusion is a masterstroke in evoking dreams’ fleeting substance. Piano lines weave in and out of the compositions, enriching the gorgeously textured cascades of IATT’s dense soundscape with vague impressions of a lullaby. Yet no matter how busy any particular moment is, each facet plays in service to the whole, engendering an astonishing coherence through Etheric Realms despite the diversity of components.

The overarching narrative on Etheric Realms of the Night follows the mind’s state of consciousness as sleep erodes the physics of reality, sending us deep into the impenetrable murk of unfiltered inputs and perceptions. “Drift Away” begins with a tandem of acoustic strumming played under a lilting flute, leading to a VoiceOver thought exercise that establishes a loose framework for Etheric Realms.1 From there, the track launches into harsh vocals alongside soaring strings that give way to heartfelt cleans, a groovy drum shuffle, punchy bass countermelodies, and sprightly piano flourishes. It’s the perfect introduction for what IATT accomplishes throughout Etheric Realms, as atmospheres consistently dart and lurch in unexpected directions. This approach synchronizes perfectly with the ephemeral temperament of dreams, where paradigms are kaleidoscopic, and no foothold lasts longer than a breath. So, too, does IATT’s songwriting shift and evolve throughout Etheric Realms’ runtime, with themes and motifs fading and reemerging in altered forms.

Etheric Realms’ success hinges on performances that can support the concept IATT sets in motion, and here, too, they deliver in spades. The guitars feature prominently on Magnum Opus, frequently stepping out to deliver showy licks and sure-fingered solos. On Etheric Realms, guitarists Joe Cantamessa and Alec Pezzano are no less capable and still deliver electrifying leads and riffs. Yet it’s their restraint that works best, giving room for other parts to dazzle. Paul Cole’s drumming hypnotizes as he adopts different styles throughout, including a dance-ready samba pattern on “Pavor Nocturnus” and a Portnoyesque rumble toward the back end of “Somniphobia.” Meanwhile, bassist/vocalist Jay Briscoe unleashes the best performance of his career so far, issuing a variety of black metal rasps and lower register roars along with effective cleans. Briscoe’s stately bass lines deserve praise as well, sauntering into the spotlight or supporting with gravelly grooves as needed. Also, the saxophone on “Walk Amongst,” played by Jørgen Munkeby (Emperor, Shining), wails with such emotion and moxie that I get goosebumps every time I listen. Every moment on Etheric Realms feels well-considered and expertly crafted, and the way it all fits together is transcendent.

Etheric Realms of the Night is an unabashed triumph. In my time at AMG, this is the only review I’ve tarried on because I didn’t want to stop listening to the album. IATT supplies an arresting three-quarters of an hour that sets my dopamine release valve to ‘GUSH,’ and Etheric Realms claims a residency in my gray matter that haunts me day and night. Every time “Hypnos” concludes, I’m left mesmerized and enamored with IATT’s swirling moods and seamless conglomeration of ideas. While it’s too early for me to think about list season,2 the subconscious pull Etheric Realms possesses only grows stronger with each visit, and I dare to dream of writing about it again.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Black Lion Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

“He who sees the world beyond is forever haunted.” So claims the Australian death thrash unit In Malice’s Wake as heard on “Beyond Death” from their latest record, The Profound Darkness. IMW last scourged the Earth with 2020’s The Blindness of Faith, a sprawling, somewhat bloated collection of bulldozing thrash metal condemnations of religious manipulation and ignorance. With four original LPs and twenty-four years of independent musicianship under them, guitarist Leigh Bartley (Harlott), bassist Karl Watterson, drummer Mark Farrugia, and guitarist/vocalist Shaun Farrugia have returned with The Profound Darkness. This time, IMW turn their focus from ire against religion towards rumination on death and the turmoil surrounding the uncertainty thereafter. Tackling as heavy a subject as one could ask for, can In Malice’s Wake deliver us the cold terror of the grave, or is The Profound Darkness more superficial than they’d like us to think?

In Malice’s Wake on The Profound Darkness still sling a most deathly thrash. The Profound Darkness is supercharged with beefy riffs, pummeling rhythms, and bellowing screams. Testamental groove and Power Tripping hardcore DNA bristle on The Profound Darkness, but In Malice’s Wake thrash primarily under the schools of Slayer and Sepultura, encrusted with lightning-fast chromatic riffs, punishing and intricate drumming (“The Great Purifier”) and wailing guitar dives (“Numb to Paradise”) under the singular aim of sounding as evil as possible. IMW’s deeper extreme metal influences manifest in death metal riffing and vox and in the blackened tremolo leads of “The Last Song”1 and the Dissection x Slayer ”The Darkness Below Us.” The only major shift from The Blindness of Faith to The Profound Darkness is in editing, as IMW’s new record is over ten minutes shorter than their last through tighter songwriting. One thing’s for sure: In Malice’s Wake are still as hostile as ever.

In Malice’s Wake sounds great when they hit the right balance of technicality and immediacy. The Profound Darkness is busy, but never noodly or extravagant. Songs like “Upon My Flesh” and “By Tongues of Demons” exercise scathing, headbangable riffcraft while fitting in a lot more notes than expected, given their lizard-brained appeal. Similarly, Mark Farrugia’s sneaks just enough flare into his drumming while keeping to the pocket, dropping some nimble kicks and cymbals over “Beyond Death” and “The Great Purifier” amidst his blistering assault on the senses. Small touches make a big difference on The Profound Darkness, most notably the multitudes of brief guitar solos littering songs like “Beyond Death,” “The Darkness Below Us,” and “The Great Purifier.” IMW can shred like crazy but choose to cut themselves short, which keeps The Profound Darkness lean and focused, and the listener wanting more, which there will be. The Profound Darkness is an expertly written and performed album by musicians who know to put the needs of their songs first and when and where to let it rip.

The Profound Darkness is less bloated than The Blindness of Faith, but In Malice’s Wake lost a little something in the process of slimming down. “The Last Song” and “Away from the Light” are as tight and fiery as IMW’s best stuff, but lack the breathing room to grow and wrap all of their riffs and ideas into complete packages. The Profound Darkness’ mix also lacks breathing room, and though it’s not totally brickwalled, it takes its toll on the ears by the end. Further, these songs aren’t as memorable as The Blindness of Faith. I’ve spent far more time with The Profound Darkness and yet can’t recall much from it, as well as the Sepultura-worshiping title track, the mind-freakery of “To Die as One,” or the tribalistic pulse of “Ritual Slaughter.” There is variety here, particularly in the blackened opulence of closer “The Darkness Below Us,” but I wish In Malice’s Wake had taken just a few more eccentric paths in uncovering The Profound Darkness.

However, whatever problems I see in The Profound Darkness can’t detract from its sheer electricity. Every riff hits, every rasp is bilious, and In Malice’s Wake never let up to give you a chance at getting bored. Old fans won’t find much to complain about here. Fans of thrash and/or death yet unfamiliar with IMW may find themselves caught up in the Wake. That promise of a haunting—of coming into gnosis of the paralyzing apprehension of death—is sometimes brushed against. Not many groups even get that, so give The Profound Darkness a shot if your evening plans include mortal dread anywhere.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: inmaliceswake.com | inmaliceswake.bandcamp | facebook.com/inmaliceswake
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

“He who sees the world beyond is forever haunted.” So claims the Australian death thrash unit In Malice’s Wake as heard on “Beyond Death” from their latest record, The Profound Darkness. IMW last scourged the Earth with 2020’s The Blindness of Faith, a sprawling, somewhat bloated collection of bulldozing thrash metal condemnations of religious manipulation and ignorance. With four original LPs and twenty-four years of independent musicianship under them, guitarist Leigh Bartley (Harlott), bassist Karl Watterson, drummer Mark Farrugia, and guitarist/vocalist Shaun Farrugia have returned with The Profound Darkness. This time, IMW turn their focus from ire against religion towards rumination on death and the turmoil surrounding the uncertainty thereafter. Tackling as heavy a subject as one could ask for, can In Malice’s Wake deliver us the cold terror of the grave, or is The Profound Darkness more superficial than they’d like us to think?

In Malice’s Wake on The Profound Darkness still sling a most deathly thrash. The Profound Darkness is supercharged with beefy riffs, pummeling rhythms, and bellowing screams. Testamental groove and Power Tripping hardcore DNA bristle on The Profound Darkness, but In Malice’s Wake thrash primarily under the schools of Slayer and Sepultura, encrusted with lightning-fast chromatic riffs, punishing and intricate drumming (“The Great Purifier”) and wailing guitar dives (“Numb to Paradise”) under the singular aim of sounding as evil as possible. IMW’s deeper extreme metal influences manifest in death metal riffing and vox and in the blackened tremolo leads of “The Last Song”1 and the Dissection x Slayer ”The Darkness Below Us.” The only major shift from The Blindness of Faith to The Profound Darkness is in editing, as IMW’s new record is over ten minutes shorter than their last through tighter songwriting. One thing’s for sure: In Malice’s Wake are still as hostile as ever.

In Malice’s Wake sounds great when they hit the right balance of technicality and immediacy. The Profound Darkness is busy, but never noodly or extravagant. Songs like “Upon My Flesh” and “By Tongues of Demons” exercise scathing, headbangable riffcraft while fitting in a lot more notes than expected, given their lizard-brained appeal. Similarly, Mark Farrugia’s sneaks just enough flare into his drumming while keeping to the pocket, dropping some nimble kicks and cymbals over “Beyond Death” and “The Great Purifier” amidst his blistering assault on the senses. Small touches make a big difference on The Profound Darkness, most notably the multitudes of brief guitar solos littering songs like “Beyond Death,” “The Darkness Below Us,” and “The Great Purifier.” IMW can shred like crazy but choose to cut themselves short, which keeps The Profound Darkness lean and focused, and the listener wanting more, which there will be. The Profound Darkness is an expertly written and performed album by musicians who know to put the needs of their songs first and when and where to let it rip.

The Profound Darkness is less bloated than The Blindness of Faith, but In Malice’s Wake lost a little something in the process of slimming down. “The Last Song” and “Away from the Light” are as tight and fiery as IMW’s best stuff, but lack the breathing room to grow and wrap all of their riffs and ideas into complete packages. The Profound Darkness’ mix also lacks breathing room, and though it’s not totally brickwalled, it takes its toll on the ears by the end. Further, these songs aren’t as memorable as The Blindness of Faith. I’ve spent far more time with The Profound Darkness and yet can’t recall much from it, as well as the Sepultura-worshiping title track, the mind-freakery of “To Die as One,” or the tribalistic pulse of “Ritual Slaughter.” There is variety here, particularly in the blackened opulence of closer “The Darkness Below Us,” but I wish In Malice’s Wake had taken just a few more eccentric paths in uncovering The Profound Darkness.

However, whatever problems I see in The Profound Darkness can’t detract from its sheer electricity. Every riff hits, every rasp is bilious, and In Malice’s Wake never let up to give you a chance at getting bored. Old fans won’t find much to complain about here. Fans of thrash and/or death yet unfamiliar with IMW may find themselves caught up in the Wake. That promise of a haunting—of coming into gnosis of the paralyzing apprehension of death—is sometimes brushed against. Not many groups even get that, so give The Profound Darkness a shot if your evening plans include mortal dread anywhere.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: inmaliceswake.com | inmaliceswake.bandcamp | facebook.com/inmaliceswake
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

Sicarius hit the ground raging in 2017 when the Californian black metal upstarts released their scathingly vicious debut album, Serenade of Slitting Throats, which captured the metal heart of AMG’s Diabolus in Muzaka, earning a coveted 4.0. Sicarius’s sophomore effort, 2020’s God of Dead Roots, didn’t fare as well; the band, adjusting to the departure of founding guitarist Argyris, ultimately turned in a less visceral, more workmanlike product. Then, when original drummer Brandon Zackay left to focus on his career in Whitechapel, and the other members exited, both voluntarily and not, Sicarius ostensibly died, leaving God of Dead Roots an unanticipated swan song. Fast forward to 2024, when Argyris reunited with original bassist Carnage and joined forces with new vocalist Akéfalos and session drummer Levi Xvl to begin recording a third album, Nex, which, after six long years, has arrived to reintroduce this risen phoenix iteration of Sicarius to the masses.

Sicarius the resurrected doesn’t sound much different than Sicarius the dead. Nex adheres to the same modern black metal formula as its predecessors, maintaining channels of influence drawn from Dissection, Dark Funeral, Urgehal, and, despite Mick Kenney’s departure from the booth, Anaal Nathrakh. In keeping with their monikers’ Latin translation, Sicarius brings an assassin’s cache of weaponry to bear. Argyris sounds rejuvenated and lethal, his armory of blistering riffage (“Cold Death,” “No Witnesses”), chaotically tremolodic leads (“Nex”), and nifty solo work (“Crashing Into the Abyss”) on full display.1 Newcomer Akéfalos adds a layer of frigidity to Nex’s surgical, cold-steel across a warm-throat sound, his icy, high-pitched screeches a mix of Abbath and Hat from early Gorgoroth, while his low-bellied growls are reminiscent of Rotting Christ. Nex has the sound of a band pissed, Sicarius attempting to bury the remnants of what was for something altogether more destructive.

Nex by Sicarius

There’s no doubt Sicarius is exceptionally capable of speed, but for my money, I connected most with Nex’s melodies and mixed paces. Beginning with a brooding, tremoloed guitar melody, “Opened Obsidian Gateways” uses Sargeistian levels of repetition to drive its earwormy chord progressions home, a variation employed during the verses and identically replicated during the bridge before sliding into a nice, mid-song chug section and then back again. Simple yet effective, the song’s a highlight as I found myself humming the melody randomly throughout the day. Also noteworthy are the slow-moving melodic chords of “Banshee,” which gave off Dissection vibes, and the mid-paced marcher “The Hunger We Cannot Sate,” as it gallops along in true Watain fashion, instigating black-n-roll levels of head bobbery over its 5:24 runtime. There’s a lot of musical nuance woven into the details of Nex; my many play-throughs tell me as much, which makes it all the more disappointing that it’s so hard to hear them.

“With a (t)reble yell she cried, NO more, more, more.” I’ve taken some slight liberties with Mr. Idol’s classic lyric to illustrate Nex’s most glaring flaw: a thin, imbalanced mix. Nex sounds much louder than its DR score might suggest. Serenade of Slitting Throats, for instance, with a DR lower than Nex’s, sounds light years warmer because Kenney was able to give Serenade’s lower tones some weight. Nex is nearly devoid of low end, completely negating anything Carnage is doing on bass and robbing much of Levi Xvl’s bass drum work of power, making for an extremely exhausting experience. I had to break my focused listening sessions up, in fact, because trying to listen through all 44:10 of Nex’s runtime left me so audially spent that I was reaching for aspirin. Whether this was a deliberate choice, I don’t know. It sure lends Sicarius an icier-than-thou edge, as much black metal of this ilk is known for, but it really robbed a large portion of my enjoyment, which sucks because, in bite-sized pieces, Nex is actually a pretty decent album.

Sicarius has returned with a vengeance and a we’re-not-fucking-around attitude, as evidenced in no small part by that brutally distinctive cover art. Alongside other bands like Impious Throne, Unholy Altar and Wuldorgast, Sicarius is bringing a sense of menace back to the US black metal scene. Nex is an album worth spinning, despite being hampered by a production that makes it too tiring to listen to in a single sitting, which left me to score it thusly. Still, I’ll be keeping my eyes and ears peeled for the next outing.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Adirondack Black Mass | Bandcamp (album)
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Sicarius hit the ground raging in 2017 when the Californian black metal upstarts released their scathingly vicious debut album, Serenade of Slitting Throats, which captured the metal heart of AMG’s Diabolus in Muzaka, earning a coveted 4.0. Sicarius’s sophomore effort, 2020’s God of Dead Roots, didn’t fare as well; the band, adjusting to the departure of founding guitarist Argyris, ultimately turned in a less visceral, more workmanlike product. Then, when original drummer Brandon Zackay left to focus on his career in Whitechapel, and the other members exited, both voluntarily and not, Sicarius ostensibly died, leaving God of Dead Roots an unanticipated swan song. Fast forward to 2024, when Argyris reunited with original bassist Carnage and joined forces with new vocalist Akéfalos and session drummer Levi Xvl to begin recording a third album, Nex, which, after six long years, has arrived to reintroduce this risen phoenix iteration of Sicarius to the masses.

Sicarius the resurrected doesn’t sound much different than Sicarius the dead. Nex adheres to the same modern black metal formula as its predecessors, maintaining channels of influence drawn from Dissection, Dark Funeral, Urgehal, and, despite Mick Kenney’s departure from the booth, Anaal Nathrakh. In keeping with their monikers’ Latin translation, Sicarius brings an assassin’s cache of weaponry to bear. Argyris sounds rejuvenated and lethal, his armory of blistering riffage (“Cold Death,” “No Witnesses”), chaotically tremolodic leads (“Nex”), and nifty solo work (“Crashing Into the Abyss”) on full display.1 Newcomer Akéfalos adds a layer of frigidity to Nex’s surgical, cold-steel across a warm-throat sound, his icy, high-pitched screeches a mix of Abbath and Hat from early Gorgoroth, while his low-bellied growls are reminiscent of Rotting Christ. Nex has the sound of a band pissed, Sicarius attempting to bury the remnants of what was for something altogether more destructive.

Nex by Sicarius

There’s no doubt Sicarius is exceptionally capable of speed, but for my money, I connected most with Nex’s melodies and mixed paces. Beginning with a brooding, tremoloed guitar melody, “Opened Obsidian Gateways” uses Sargeistian levels of repetition to drive its earwormy chord progressions home, a variation employed during the verses and identically replicated during the bridge before sliding into a nice, mid-song chug section and then back again. Simple yet effective, the song’s a highlight as I found myself humming the melody randomly throughout the day. Also noteworthy are the slow-moving melodic chords of “Banshee,” which gave off Dissection vibes, and the mid-paced marcher “The Hunger We Cannot Sate,” as it gallops along in true Watain fashion, instigating black-n-roll levels of head bobbery over its 5:24 runtime. There’s a lot of musical nuance woven into the details of Nex; my many play-throughs tell me as much, which makes it all the more disappointing that it’s so hard to hear them.

“With a (t)reble yell she cried, NO more, more, more.” I’ve taken some slight liberties with Mr. Idol’s classic lyric to illustrate Nex’s most glaring flaw: a thin, imbalanced mix. Nex sounds much louder than its DR score might suggest. Serenade of Slitting Throats, for instance, with a DR lower than Nex’s, sounds light years warmer because Kenney was able to give Serenade’s lower tones some weight. Nex is nearly devoid of low end, completely negating anything Carnage is doing on bass and robbing much of Levi Xvl’s bass drum work of power, making for an extremely exhausting experience. I had to break my focused listening sessions up, in fact, because trying to listen through all 44:10 of Nex’s runtime left me so audially spent that I was reaching for aspirin. Whether this was a deliberate choice, I don’t know. It sure lends Sicarius an icier-than-thou edge, as much black metal of this ilk is known for, but it really robbed a large portion of my enjoyment, which sucks because, in bite-sized pieces, Nex is actually a pretty decent album.

Sicarius has returned with a vengeance and a we’re-not-fucking-around attitude, as evidenced in no small part by that brutally distinctive cover art. Alongside other bands like Impious Throne, Unholy Altar and Wuldorgast, Sicarius is bringing a sense of menace back to the US black metal scene. Nex is an album worth spinning, despite being hampered by a production that makes it too tiring to listen to in a single sitting, which left me to score it thusly. Still, I’ll be keeping my eyes and ears peeled for the next outing.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Adirondack Black Mass | Bandcamp (album)
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Without question, Friday is my favorite day of the week. Even more tantalizing than the conclusion to an often grueling gauntlet of meetings, feedback, and GSD,1 I’m blessed with metal’s new releases. Trying to listen to everything that comes out is a fool’s errand—luckily, I’m a fool. During one of my customary Friday excursions, fortune smiled upon me when I stumbled onto Graufar’s sophomore opus, Via Necropolis. As I listened, the album’s grooves, riffs, and passions bathed me in blackened deathly glory. My luck persisted through the morning—Graufar’s promo still lurked unclaimed in the bin. Yoink! Though I discovered Via Necropolis late, I was powerless to resist the call of a review, especially given the band’s unsigned/independent status. Thus saddled with an unplanned bit of writing and a pocketful of tunes, let us sojourn down Necropolis way.

Too many blackened death metal bands present a mixed bag of half-measures.2 To me, the peak allure of the subgenre promises the brutality and technicality of death metal united with black metal’s icy atmospherics and raw aesthetics. The quintessentially boilerplate BDM band brews a tepid concoction featuring a death metal base with black metal spices; fortunately, Graufar averts getting mired in pedestrian trappings. Honing a sound established on debut Scordalus, Via Necropolis flaunts chilly trems, grating rasps, and a coat of corpse paint that betrays their blackened heart, and it beats with the blood of Dissection, Necrophobic, and Rimfrost. Death metal’s influence is more subtle, skulking in chugging grooves and vicious growls that blend in seamlessly.

Via Necropolis by Graufar

Though Graufar’s performances across Via Necropolis merit praise, vocalist Gernot Graf deserves special recognition. His scathing vocals loose misery and malevolence that arouse a primal reflex, making my throat twinge at the thought of snarling along. Tracks like “Blizzard and Blaze” and “Foltertrog” exhibit Graf’s penchant for wringing out every ounce of emotion, from vitriol to agony. Black metal rasps aren’t his only trick, though. Graf roars with an insatiable fire on “Charon” and “Buried in Flames,” devolving into bestial throes within “Heralds of Doom” and “Via Necropolis” and ensuring that his versatile performance never lacks conviction or fervor. Graf also plays guitar alongside Michael Herber, and together they fashion a glittering heap of licks, leads, and grooves. And it’s the latter that stands out the most, because while death metal regularly brandishes them, black metal rarely deigns to approve the groove. Meanwhile, “Buried in Flames” and “On Your Knees” demonstrate Graufar’s shrewd understanding of songwriting, and bolstered by Thomas Buchmeier’s slinky bass and René Hinum’s precision drumming, Via Necropolis positively thrums.

Throughout Via Necropolis, Graufar dazzles with their ability to conjure dynamic arrangements informed by influences. Kicking off with a Dissection-coded intro on “Blizzard and Blaze,” Graufar mingles with mellow cleans, slithers through second-wave savagery reminiscent of Mayhem,3 and even dabbles in throat-singing before ending back on the cleans. “Heralds of Doom” features a fiery solo that cedes to a pit-ready sway, “Via Necropolis” starts with a sleek Necrophobic-meets-Watain riff that builds to a doomy chorus played over rabid trems, and “On Your Knees” bashes you in the face with a potent Sepultura groove.4 Despite Graufar’s administration of reference points galore, they never linger overlong on any one. The songwriting is deceptively understated, and although this works in Graufar’s favor as a whole, over repeated listens I find my engagement more attuned to Via Necropolis’s back half. Reordering the tracks (“Buried in Flames” would make a fantastic opener) and slightly trimming the longer ones would add an immediacy that brings some of the back-end boom up front.

All told, Graufar delivers a vibrant outing that boasts a refreshing take on blackened death teeming with wonderfully wicked ideas. Via Necropolis sizzles throughout its forty-two minutes and distinguishes the band as an act to watch. Considering both Graufar’s albums have been released independently, the band displays remarkable song craft and self-editing, and Via Necropolis gleams with talented musicians who forge well-crafted metal bangers. Better late than never, I’m glad this gem didn’t slip by.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

Without question, Friday is my favorite day of the week. Even more tantalizing than the conclusion to an often grueling gauntlet of meetings, feedback, and GSD,1 I’m blessed with metal’s new releases. Trying to listen to everything that comes out is a fool’s errand—luckily, I’m a fool. During one of my customary Friday excursions, fortune smiled upon me when I stumbled onto Graufar’s sophomore opus, Via Necropolis. As I listened, the album’s grooves, riffs, and passions bathed me in blackened deathly glory. My luck persisted through the morning—Graufar’s promo still lurked unclaimed in the bin. Yoink! Though I discovered Via Necropolis late, I was powerless to resist the call of a review, especially given the band’s unsigned/independent status. Thus saddled with an unplanned bit of writing and a pocketful of tunes, let us sojourn down Necropolis way.

Too many blackened death metal bands present a mixed bag of half-measures.2 To me, the peak allure of the subgenre promises the brutality and technicality of death metal united with black metal’s icy atmospherics and raw aesthetics. The quintessentially boilerplate BDM band brews a tepid concoction featuring a death metal base with black metal spices; fortunately, Graufar averts getting mired in pedestrian trappings. Honing a sound established on debut Scordalus, Via Necropolis flaunts chilly trems, grating rasps, and a coat of corpse paint that betrays their blackened heart, and it beats with the blood of Dissection, Necrophobic, and Rimfrost. Death metal’s influence is more subtle, skulking in chugging grooves and vicious growls that blend in seamlessly.

Via Necropolis by Graufar

Though Graufar’s performances across Via Necropolis merit praise, vocalist Gernot Graf deserves special recognition. His scathing vocals loose misery and malevolence that arouse a primal reflex, making my throat twinge at the thought of snarling along. Tracks like “Blizzard and Blaze” and “Foltertrog” exhibit Graf’s penchant for wringing out every ounce of emotion, from vitriol to agony. Black metal rasps aren’t his only trick, though. Graf roars with an insatiable fire on “Charon” and “Buried in Flames,” devolving into bestial throes within “Heralds of Doom” and “Via Necropolis” and ensuring that his versatile performance never lacks conviction or fervor. Graf also plays guitar alongside Michael Herber, and together they fashion a glittering heap of licks, leads, and grooves. And it’s the latter that stands out the most, because while death metal regularly brandishes them, black metal rarely deigns to approve the groove. Meanwhile, “Buried in Flames” and “On Your Knees” demonstrate Graufar’s shrewd understanding of songwriting, and bolstered by Thomas Buchmeier’s slinky bass and René Hinum’s precision drumming, Via Necropolis positively thrums.

Throughout Via Necropolis, Graufar dazzles with their ability to conjure dynamic arrangements informed by influences. Kicking off with a Dissection-coded intro on “Blizzard and Blaze,” Graufar mingles with mellow cleans, slithers through second-wave savagery reminiscent of Mayhem,3 and even dabbles in throat-singing before ending back on the cleans. “Heralds of Doom” features a fiery solo that cedes to a pit-ready sway, “Via Necropolis” starts with a sleek Necrophobic-meets-Watain riff that builds to a doomy chorus played over rabid trems, and “On Your Knees” bashes you in the face with a potent Sepultura groove.4 Despite Graufar’s administration of reference points galore, they never linger overlong on any one. The songwriting is deceptively understated, and although this works in Graufar’s favor as a whole, over repeated listens I find my engagement more attuned to Via Necropolis’s back half. Reordering the tracks (“Buried in Flames” would make a fantastic opener) and slightly trimming the longer ones would add an immediacy that brings some of the back-end boom up front.

All told, Graufar delivers a vibrant outing that boasts a refreshing take on blackened death teeming with wonderfully wicked ideas. Via Necropolis sizzles throughout its forty-two minutes and distinguishes the band as an act to watch. Considering both Graufar’s albums have been released independently, the band displays remarkable song craft and self-editing, and Via Necropolis gleams with talented musicians who forge well-crafted metal bangers. Better late than never, I’m glad this gem didn’t slip by.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

Illustration by Odoardo Fialetti, Francesco Valesio, from De formato foetu liber singularis (1626).

Source: US National Library of Medicine

https://pdimagearchive.org/images/a52ee0f4-d2ac-4161-a84c-960c8d4e680a

#anatomy #dissection #biology #childbirth #art #publicdomain

Illustration by Odoardo Fialetti, Francesco Valesio, from De formato foetu liber singularis (1626).

Source: US National Library of Medicine

https://pdimagearchive.org/images/a52ee0f4-d2ac-4161-a84c-960c8d4e680a

#anatomy #dissection #biology #childbirth #art #publicdomain

Why should blunt dissection be done after the initial incision?
A. To reduce bleeding
B. To open the abscess cavity fully
C. To remove pus manually
D. To apply sutures
#dissection #incision #surgery # ... Continue to: https://www.facebook.com/1130092409221646/posts/1292351959662356

Death is cheap - corpses are eternal!

https://piefed.social/c/historymemes/p/1900945/death-is-cheap-corpses-are-eternal

Death is cheap - corpses are eternal!

https://piefed.social/c/historymemes/p/1900945/death-is-cheap-corpses-are-eternal

It’s not often I underrate something, but if there were ever a legitimate example, it might be my review of Arcane Paths to Resurrection, the debut from Greek black metal trio Decipher. Upon revisiting it recently, I experienced newfound intense appreciation for their slightly crusty melodic black metal, and this all stemmed from my initial spins of sophomore ΘΕΛΗΜΑ.1 Not overly atmospheric, not supremely dissonant or integrated into death metal, nor straightforwardly raw and aggressive, Decipher maintain a style in Thelema that’s as subtly intriguing and melodic as it is punchy and to-the-point. The word Thelema means will2 and while there’s no lyric sheet or storytelling in promo material to elucidate the concept, the snatches of audible references to Satan, and the generally extreme, yet anthemic vibe of the music broadcast defiant rebellion and the burden of being, which suit that word well.

Decipher’s sound is broadly the same as on Arcane Paths, a Watain-meets-Dissection viciousness tempered—if you can call it that—by a darker, eerier side that pulls more from Icelandic acts like Svartidauði. Whilst remaining committed to frequent use of group-chanted and screamed vocal lines and plenty of recognisably malicious blackened riffery, Thelema sees the band experiment a little more. While not meandering—with the possible exception of “Bound to the Wheel”—songs spread their themes into more variations (“The Black March,” “Towards Renaissance”) or uncanny soloing, whilst rhythms shift more often, and build tension for longer before unravelling and transforming. The barely five minutes added is enough for the compositions to have more presence, whether with energetic malevolence (“Return to Naught,” “Seven Scars”) or ominous finality (“Liturgy”). Skirting the precipice that would see a descent into atmo-black, there’s a relaxation and a layering to the melodic lines that deepens and darkens the sound.

ΘΕΛΗΜΑ (Thelema) by DECIPHER

Thelema demonstrates that Decipher’s command of rhythm, melody, and grit has only gotten better, as it compels with the joint force of hookiness and evil. Using recurring patterns of riff, vocals, and percussion that each cue one another, Decipher create a thrashing feeling of push-and-pull that’s downright magnetic. A group wail precipitating a gnarly descending arpeggio (“Seven Scars”); the way a guitar clambers up and down to the precise beat of the drums (“Return to Naught,” “Hail Death”). These manifest organically out of existing tempos—blast beat (“Seven Scars”), march (“The Black March”), or shuffling skitter (“Towards Renaissance”) alike, making the shifts seamless and the identity consistent. Perhaps this is black metal that’s not unusual on paper, but adorned with Decipher’s now recognisable bright yet sinister melodies, and continually layered vocals, it sounds freshly thrilling. The tingles that go down my spine when I hear the first riff on opener “Return to Naught,” the solo that ends “The Black March,” and the overlaid cries and urgent tremolo of “Litany” have not yet failed to materialise.

Thelema’s enjoyability and power over its listener is also bolstered by Decipher’s additional refinements in areas not lacking before. By severing any instrumental interlude or protracted intro, the energy—however it transforms—and momentum are maintained, and the album has a more robust through-line. Rhythmic and thematic shifts flex and emerge variously with emphasis and mournful or spiteful intensity. The wails are just as agonised and chest-emptying in the latter half as they are in the first. Decipher’s production has also expanded to accommodate their slightly more nuanced and exploratory sound. Thelema sports a roomy mix that keeps the interspersed vocal and guitar lines, and the proudly beating drums and crashing cymbals equally audible and striking.

I recall bemoaning a lack of zhuzh in Arcane Paths and, whether or not I still consider that justified, it definitely wouldn’t be here. For all the new layers and senses of intrigue, Thelema remains a black metal album with standout moments that threaten to overshadow and desaturate the more standard fare, and may strike some harder than others. It yet undeniably shows Decipher carving out a decisive space for themselves that adumbrates a dark, delicious presence. Thelema stands one step behind the inexorability that confers greatness in its sphere. But it’s a small step.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

It’s not often I underrate something, but if there were ever a legitimate example, it might be my review of Arcane Paths to Resurrection, the debut from Greek black metal trio Decipher. Upon revisiting it recently, I experienced newfound intense appreciation for their slightly crusty melodic black metal, and this all stemmed from my initial spins of sophomore ΘΕΛΗΜΑ.1 Not overly atmospheric, not supremely dissonant or integrated into death metal, nor straightforwardly raw and aggressive, Decipher maintain a style in Thelema that’s as subtly intriguing and melodic as it is punchy and to-the-point. The word Thelema means will2 and while there’s no lyric sheet or storytelling in promo material to elucidate the concept, the snatches of audible references to Satan, and the generally extreme, yet anthemic vibe of the music broadcast defiant rebellion and the burden of being, which suit that word well.

Decipher’s sound is broadly the same as on Arcane Paths, a Watain-meets-Dissection viciousness tempered—if you can call it that—by a darker, eerier side that pulls more from Icelandic acts like Svartidauði. Whilst remaining committed to frequent use of group-chanted and screamed vocal lines and plenty of recognisably malicious blackened riffery, Thelema sees the band experiment a little more. While not meandering—with the possible exception of “Bound to the Wheel”—songs spread their themes into more variations (“The Black March,” “Towards Renaissance”) or uncanny soloing, whilst rhythms shift more often, and build tension for longer before unravelling and transforming. The barely five minutes added is enough for the compositions to have more presence, whether with energetic malevolence (“Return to Naught,” “Seven Scars”) or ominous finality (“Liturgy”). Skirting the precipice that would see a descent into atmo-black, there’s a relaxation and a layering to the melodic lines that deepens and darkens the sound.

ΘΕΛΗΜΑ (Thelema) by DECIPHER

Thelema demonstrates that Decipher’s command of rhythm, melody, and grit has only gotten better, as it compels with the joint force of hookiness and evil. Using recurring patterns of riff, vocals, and percussion that each cue one another, Decipher create a thrashing feeling of push-and-pull that’s downright magnetic. A group wail precipitating a gnarly descending arpeggio (“Seven Scars”); the way a guitar clambers up and down to the precise beat of the drums (“Return to Naught,” “Hail Death”). These manifest organically out of existing tempos—blast beat (“Seven Scars”), march (“The Black March”), or shuffling skitter (“Towards Renaissance”) alike, making the shifts seamless and the identity consistent. Perhaps this is black metal that’s not unusual on paper, but adorned with Decipher’s now recognisable bright yet sinister melodies, and continually layered vocals, it sounds freshly thrilling. The tingles that go down my spine when I hear the first riff on opener “Return to Naught,” the solo that ends “The Black March,” and the overlaid cries and urgent tremolo of “Litany” have not yet failed to materialise.

Thelema’s enjoyability and power over its listener is also bolstered by Decipher’s additional refinements in areas not lacking before. By severing any instrumental interlude or protracted intro, the energy—however it transforms—and momentum are maintained, and the album has a more robust through-line. Rhythmic and thematic shifts flex and emerge variously with emphasis and mournful or spiteful intensity. The wails are just as agonised and chest-emptying in the latter half as they are in the first. Decipher’s production has also expanded to accommodate their slightly more nuanced and exploratory sound. Thelema sports a roomy mix that keeps the interspersed vocal and guitar lines, and the proudly beating drums and crashing cymbals equally audible and striking.

I recall bemoaning a lack of zhuzh in Arcane Paths and, whether or not I still consider that justified, it definitely wouldn’t be here. For all the new layers and senses of intrigue, Thelema remains a black metal album with standout moments that threaten to overshadow and desaturate the more standard fare, and may strike some harder than others. It yet undeniably shows Decipher carving out a decisive space for themselves that adumbrates a dark, delicious presence. Thelema stands one step behind the inexorability that confers greatness in its sphere. But it’s a small step.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

A tabby cat is what you get when you let nature take its course. Nearly every stray is a tabby because, without selective breeding from human interference, cats just end up looking like that most of the time. Similarly, Atlanta’s Malefic feel to me what you’d get if you let the faster variants of extreme metal reach their natural conclusion. Playing a style that draws from thrash, black and death metal, Malefic formed in 2007 with the stated goal of modernizing black metal. In doing so, they’ve imbued in their slow-cooked debut Impermanence, an intensity and drive befitting a genre-forwarding record. But is Impermanence the cat’s meow, or did Malefic cough up a hairball?

Like how tabbies are genetically diverse but visually similar, Malefic’s many ingredients blend into a kind of extreme metal slurry on Impermanence, all present but difficult to identify individually. Sure, some riffs are more typically one thing than another, like the Testament-like thrash chops opening “In Darkest Dreams,” or the Dissectionesque blackened trems on “Blood of the Throne,” or the Opethian deathly grooves of “It Haunts.” But taken as a whole, Impermanence doesn’t lean towards one sub-genre over another. Instead, Malefic’s mutt-metal manifests into an off-kilter, volatile force of hostility, recalling heavily of the genre-blending approach Xoth take. Xoth are actually probably the best comparison to Malefic, as drummer Aaron Baumoel’s rasps and screams sound a lot like both of their vocal duo, and guitarists Jason Davila and Sam Williams’ solos follow the melodically rich, whammy-friendly stylings of Xoth (“Idiocracy”). Bolstered by a rhythm section of Baumoel and bassist Andy McGraw, who both know how to lay down some serious groove when needed (“Deserter”) and a dynamic mix, Impermanence shows that those years of honing their style have paid off for Malefic. It’s a good sound!

But what confuses me about Impermanence is that it feels aimless in many places, but not because Malefic can’t edit. To the contrary, every song on Impermanence is tight and focused, only running past five minutes on “It Haunts.”1 Malefic also aren’t indulging in extraneous instrumentals or soloing, as songs like “Of Gods and Man” and “Disembodiment” showcase the band’s restraint within their buck-wild playing. The issue is that Impermanence doesn’t stick with an idea long enough. “Blood of the Throne” and “Obsidian Earth” have, like, five riffs in their first minutes or so each; instead of expounding upon a few ideas, Malefic often churns through ideas before they’ve settled into something sticky. This pattern especially stinks when they land on something great and don’t develop it, like the swinging, discordant riff in the second verse(?) of “Echoes of Silence” or the guitar runs opening “Obsidian Earth.” Impermanence sees a band on a mission, but maybe also a band in too much of a hurry.

What this amounts to is that Impermanence possesses a sound I can’t say I’ve heard before, but also, confusingly, one that’s somewhat indistinct from other extreme metal albums. Malefic’s aforementioned style-soup is so dense with expansive inspirations and somewhat progressive tendencies (“Disembodiment,” “It Haunts”) that, besides some serious Xothisms here and there, it adds up to something not exactly like the sum of all of their influences. But at the same time, Impermanence’s loose structuring and lack of purposeful repetition hampers Malefic’s ability to craft lasting hooks. By and large, most songs start with some fanfare, rage for three-to-four minutes straight while Malefic tear through riffs with reckless abandon like a more evil, more succinct Trivium and end with little resolution. It can be very exciting and enjoyable in the moment, but I’m left with little to remember Impermanence by the time it’s over.

But there is nothing wrong with a tabby cat,2 and there’s nothing wrong with Malefic. They’ve carved out a great sound for themselves that more purposeful songwriting could harness into a truly hog-wild time. But where Impermanence excels in thrills, it lacks staying power, mostly in part to Malefic’s restless pursuit of riffs above all else. Fans of blackened thrash, blackened death, death thrash or bethrashened black death could do a lot worse than giving Impermanence a spin, but it’s probably not the genre-shaking game changer the band wanted. There’s always the sophomore album, however…



Rating: Mixed
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Terminus Hate City
Websites: maleficband.com | malefic.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/MaleficBandATL
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

A tabby cat is what you get when you let nature take its course. Nearly every stray is a tabby because, without selective breeding from human interference, cats just end up looking like that most of the time. Similarly, Atlanta’s Malefic feel to me what you’d get if you let the faster variants of extreme metal reach their natural conclusion. Playing a style that draws from thrash, black and death metal, Malefic formed in 2007 with the stated goal of modernizing black metal. In doing so, they’ve imbued in their slow-cooked debut Impermanence, an intensity and drive befitting a genre-forwarding record. But is Impermanence the cat’s meow, or did Malefic cough up a hairball?

Like how tabbies are genetically diverse but visually similar, Malefic’s many ingredients blend into a kind of extreme metal slurry on Impermanence, all present but difficult to identify individually. Sure, some riffs are more typically one thing than another, like the Testament-like thrash chops opening “In Darkest Dreams,” or the Dissectionesque blackened trems on “Blood of the Throne,” or the Opethian deathly grooves of “It Haunts.” But taken as a whole, Impermanence doesn’t lean towards one sub-genre over another. Instead, Malefic’s mutt-metal manifests into an off-kilter, volatile force of hostility, recalling heavily of the genre-blending approach Xoth take. Xoth are actually probably the best comparison to Malefic, as drummer Aaron Baumoel’s rasps and screams sound a lot like both of their vocal duo, and guitarists Jason Davila and Sam Williams’ solos follow the melodically rich, whammy-friendly stylings of Xoth (“Idiocracy”). Bolstered by a rhythm section of Baumoel and bassist Andy McGraw, who both know how to lay down some serious groove when needed (“Deserter”) and a dynamic mix, Impermanence shows that those years of honing their style have paid off for Malefic. It’s a good sound!

But what confuses me about Impermanence is that it feels aimless in many places, but not because Malefic can’t edit. To the contrary, every song on Impermanence is tight and focused, only running past five minutes on “It Haunts.”1 Malefic also aren’t indulging in extraneous instrumentals or soloing, as songs like “Of Gods and Man” and “Disembodiment” showcase the band’s restraint within their buck-wild playing. The issue is that Impermanence doesn’t stick with an idea long enough. “Blood of the Throne” and “Obsidian Earth” have, like, five riffs in their first minutes or so each; instead of expounding upon a few ideas, Malefic often churns through ideas before they’ve settled into something sticky. This pattern especially stinks when they land on something great and don’t develop it, like the swinging, discordant riff in the second verse(?) of “Echoes of Silence” or the guitar runs opening “Obsidian Earth.” Impermanence sees a band on a mission, but maybe also a band in too much of a hurry.

What this amounts to is that Impermanence possesses a sound I can’t say I’ve heard before, but also, confusingly, one that’s somewhat indistinct from other extreme metal albums. Malefic’s aforementioned style-soup is so dense with expansive inspirations and somewhat progressive tendencies (“Disembodiment,” “It Haunts”) that, besides some serious Xothisms here and there, it adds up to something not exactly like the sum of all of their influences. But at the same time, Impermanence’s loose structuring and lack of purposeful repetition hampers Malefic’s ability to craft lasting hooks. By and large, most songs start with some fanfare, rage for three-to-four minutes straight while Malefic tear through riffs with reckless abandon like a more evil, more succinct Trivium and end with little resolution. It can be very exciting and enjoyable in the moment, but I’m left with little to remember Impermanence by the time it’s over.

But there is nothing wrong with a tabby cat,2 and there’s nothing wrong with Malefic. They’ve carved out a great sound for themselves that more purposeful songwriting could harness into a truly hog-wild time. But where Impermanence excels in thrills, it lacks staying power, mostly in part to Malefic’s restless pursuit of riffs above all else. Fans of blackened thrash, blackened death, death thrash or bethrashened black death could do a lot worse than giving Impermanence a spin, but it’s probably not the genre-shaking game changer the band wanted. There’s always the sophomore album, however…



Rating: Mixed
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Terminus Hate City
Websites: maleficband.com | malefic.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/MaleficBandATL
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

Houston’s Necrofier first came on my radar when they played the 2024 Decibel Magazine Tour with Hulder, Devil Master, and Worm. Sadly, I missed their opening set, but gladly, I caught a recording of it on YouTube.1 Their raucous, crowd-pleasing performance compelled me to check out their recordings. At 36 minutes, debut Prophecies of Eternal Darkness (2021) is a lean, mean barrage of melodic black metal, while Burning Shadows in the Southern Night (2023) ups the ante with 47 minutes of stronger, more polished material. Necrofier’s (lone?) star seems to be on the rise since Decibel 2024, as their third album arrives on the mighty Metal Blade Records. Also on the rise are the band’s ambitions; Transcend into Oblivion spreads three three-songs suites and an eponymous closing track across a hefty 59 minutes. Everything is bigger in Texas, sure, but bigger doesn’t always mean better (or good).

Perhaps due to their sweltering abode, Necrofier draws black metal sustenance from the shivering environs of Scandinavia. Dissection is certainly an immediate reference point, if they excised the excursions into folky melodeath. Necrofier’s preferred melodicism swirls as a maelstrom of mobile power chords by guitarists Bakka and Semir Özerkan, propelled by the dexterous drumming of Dobber Beverly.2 The influence of Watain also feels present, especially since Bakka’s rasp sounds quite a bit like E. And early Emperor reigns here as well, before they fully unbound Prometheus. Violins, synthesizers, and harpsichords are felt more than heard outright, balancing a sweet spot production-wise à la Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk. On the unfortunate side of the production is bassist Mat Valentine, who gets lost in the shuffle. Nevertheless, Transcend into Oblivion consistently delivers quality black metal that is melodic but dangerous.

Transcend into Oblivion by Necrofier

Transcend into Oblivion progresses as three suites, each comprised of three songs. Together, they narrate a ‘Luciferian Night of the Dark Soul’: a spiritual awakening incites torment that ultimately engenders rebirth. Individually, they mostly play out as a collection of thematically-linked songs. “Fires of the Apocalypse, Light My Path” immediately kicks the door in (“Fires…I”) before kicking the door in again (“Fires…II”) and again—”Fires…III” is the strongest of the trio, but the listener begins wondering why these songs are presented as holistic units. The “Servants of Darkness, Guide My Way” trilogy comes closest to reaching suiteness. “Servants…I” starts with one of the album’s gnarliest trem riffs, “Servants…II” cools things down with an extended acoustic passage, and “Servants III” delightfully dips into doomy Middle-Eastern territory before black-metal blastoff. As for the “Horns of Destruction, Lift My Blade” triumvirate, it adds variety with d-beats, chunkier riffs, and a gong, but it feels like more of the same this deep into the album. There’s no real filler amongst the suites, but there aren’t any thrilling peaks either.

Keeping with their spiritualism, Necrofier nests numerology into Transcend into Oblivion, punctuating its three-song threesome with three instrumentals. For the most part, they effectively break up the black metal action. On the heels of the opening “Fires” suite, “Behold, the Birth of Ascension” conveys the onset of (re)birth pangs. Repurposing a melody from “Fires…III” with creepy bells and macabre piano, it cleverly inverts the typical function of an interlude, segueing out of a song rather than into one. More in the typical interlude camp is “Mystical Creation of Enlightenment.” Its Spanish-sounding acoustic plucks make for a soothing shift out of the savage “Servants” suite, while its ending modulation prefigures the ornery onset of the “Horns” suite. Oddly enough, it’s the eponymous instrumental that feels superfluous. “Toward the Necrofier” concludes the album with ominous space synths, incantatory spoken word, and tribal rhythms. “Horns…III,” however, ends with its own climax and a piano denouement, which makes the final instrumental feel like a coda to an album that doesn’t need more closure.

“Toward the Necrofier” does function as a serviceable springboard for a second spin of Transcend into Oblivion, an album which I ultimately recommend. It makes sense that Necrofier would cap off a work about rebirth with an eponymous song distilling the more unique elements of their sound. While Necrofier don’t fully realize their conceptual ambition, Transcend into Oblivion is sweet stuff regardless, demonstrating lots of promise for future outings. Black metal zealots of all stripes should strongly consider messing with these Texans.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed:256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Houston’s Necrofier first came on my radar when they played the 2024 Decibel Magazine Tour with Hulder, Devil Master, and Worm. Sadly, I missed their opening set, but gladly, I caught a recording of it on YouTube.1 Their raucous, crowd-pleasing performance compelled me to check out their recordings. At 36 minutes, debut Prophecies of Eternal Darkness (2021) is a lean, mean barrage of melodic black metal, while Burning Shadows in the Southern Night (2023) ups the ante with 47 minutes of stronger, more polished material. Necrofier’s (lone?) star seems to be on the rise since Decibel 2024, as their third album arrives on the mighty Metal Blade Records. Also on the rise are the band’s ambitions; Transcend into Oblivion spreads three three-songs suites and an eponymous closing track across a hefty 59 minutes. Everything is bigger in Texas, sure, but bigger doesn’t always mean better (or good).

Perhaps due to their sweltering abode, Necrofier draws black metal sustenance from the shivering environs of Scandinavia. Dissection is certainly an immediate reference point, if they excised the excursions into folky melodeath. Necrofier’s preferred melodicism swirls as a maelstrom of mobile power chords by guitarists Bakka and Semir Özerkan, propelled by the dexterous drumming of Dobber Beverly.2 The influence of Watain also feels present, especially since Bakka’s rasp sounds quite a bit like E. And early Emperor reigns here as well, before they fully unbound Prometheus. Violins, synthesizers, and harpsichords are felt more than heard outright, balancing a sweet spot production-wise à la Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk. On the unfortunate side of the production is bassist Mat Valentine, who gets lost in the shuffle. Nevertheless, Transcend into Oblivion consistently delivers quality black metal that is melodic but dangerous.

Transcend into Oblivion by Necrofier

Transcend into Oblivion progresses as three suites, each comprised of three songs. Together, they narrate a ‘Luciferian Night of the Dark Soul’: a spiritual awakening incites torment that ultimately engenders rebirth. Individually, they mostly play out as a collection of thematically-linked songs. “Fires of the Apocalypse, Light My Path” immediately kicks the door in (“Fires…I”) before kicking the door in again (“Fires…II”) and again—”Fires…III” is the strongest of the trio, but the listener begins wondering why these songs are presented as holistic units. The “Servants of Darkness, Guide My Way” trilogy comes closest to reaching suiteness. “Servants…I” starts with one of the album’s gnarliest trem riffs, “Servants…II” cools things down with an extended acoustic passage, and “Servants III” delightfully dips into doomy Middle-Eastern territory before black-metal blastoff. As for the “Horns of Destruction, Lift My Blade” triumvirate, it adds variety with d-beats, chunkier riffs, and a gong, but it feels like more of the same this deep into the album. There’s no real filler amongst the suites, but there aren’t any thrilling peaks either.

Keeping with their spiritualism, Necrofier nests numerology into Transcend into Oblivion, punctuating its three-song threesome with three instrumentals. For the most part, they effectively break up the black metal action. On the heels of the opening “Fires” suite, “Behold, the Birth of Ascension” conveys the onset of (re)birth pangs. Repurposing a melody from “Fires…III” with creepy bells and macabre piano, it cleverly inverts the typical function of an interlude, segueing out of a song rather than into one. More in the typical interlude camp is “Mystical Creation of Enlightenment.” Its Spanish-sounding acoustic plucks make for a soothing shift out of the savage “Servants” suite, while its ending modulation prefigures the ornery onset of the “Horns” suite. Oddly enough, it’s the eponymous instrumental that feels superfluous. “Toward the Necrofier” concludes the album with ominous space synths, incantatory spoken word, and tribal rhythms. “Horns…III,” however, ends with its own climax and a piano denouement, which makes the final instrumental feel like a coda to an album that doesn’t need more closure.

“Toward the Necrofier” does function as a serviceable springboard for a second spin of Transcend into Oblivion, an album which I ultimately recommend. It makes sense that Necrofier would cap off a work about rebirth with an eponymous song distilling the more unique elements of their sound. While Necrofier don’t fully realize their conceptual ambition, Transcend into Oblivion is sweet stuff regardless, demonstrating lots of promise for future outings. Black metal zealots of all stripes should strongly consider messing with these Texans.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed:256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Morrn 🤘🏻

It's #MisanthropicMonday!

Time for a #BlackMetal classic.

link.deezer.com/s/324P7Fd2kpAo…

#NowPlaying #RandomMusickMayhem #Dissection #Metal

Oh joy, another article dissecting #SaaS with the subtlety of a sledgehammer ⚒️. It’s a tangled web of acronyms and #buzzwords that makes even a Rubik’s Cube look straightforward. Spoiler: throw enough letters like #AI, #ARR, and #GTM, and maybe no one will notice the emperor's #new #clothes 🕵️‍♂️.
https://oswarld.com/eng/insight/250816_ai-arr-illusion-gmv-vs-arr #Dissection #HackerNews #ngated

Oh joy, another article dissecting #SaaS with the subtlety of a sledgehammer ⚒️. It’s a tangled web of acronyms and #buzzwords that makes even a Rubik’s Cube look straightforward. Spoiler: throw enough letters like #AI, #ARR, and #GTM, and maybe no one will notice the emperor's #new #clothes 🕵️‍♂️.
https://oswarld.com/eng/insight/250816_ai-arr-illusion-gmv-vs-arr #Dissection #HackerNews #ngated

Illustration by Friedrich Lehmann, Ludwig Heinrich Bojanus, from Anatome Testudinis Europaeae (1821).

Source: Harvard University / Biodiversity Heritage Library

https://pdimagearchive.org/images/564f9d97-9986-4f22-9bec-fe438babe877

#anatomy #zoology #dissection #turtles #bojanus #art #publicdomain

I opted out of dissecting owl pellets today which for some reason was super offputting to me despite the fact I'm known to frequently inspect (without touching it, ew) and take pictures of roadkill in my neighborhood at various states of decomp cause I find the skeleton in particularly very interesting and someday want to buy like a cat skeleton for my apartment.

#school #anatomy #dissection

I opted out of dissecting owl pellets today which for some reason was super offputting to me despite the fact I'm known to frequently inspect (without touching it, ew) and take pictures of roadkill in my neighborhood at various states of decomp cause I find the skeleton in particularly very interesting and someday want to buy like a cat skeleton for my apartment.

#school #anatomy #dissection

New House (1708) by Tobias Cohen, from Ma’aseh Tuviyah.

Source: Wellcome Collection

Available to buy as a print.

https://pdimagearchive.org/images/e9e65996-9b73-434c-85e5-84025c33226d

#judaism #anatomy #dissection #buildings #architecture #scrolls #art #publicdomain

Withering Soul – Passage of the Arcane Review

By Andy-War-Hall

Much has changed in the decade since Withering Soul last graced this website. I was in high school when Madam X placed a scarlet 2.5 on Adverse Portrait, a scoring I would agree with wholeheartedly.1 It was an enjoyable but unfocused work, and its Moonspell-akin gothic tendencies didn’t mesh well with the band’s Dissection worship. But in a development not covered here, Withering Soul leveled up with 2021’s Last Contact, dropping the Type O Negative vocals almost entirely and amping up their blackened core with beefier riffs and more engaging compositions. Some gothic elements remained, and what did felt far better integrated into their style than before. Withering Soul continue down this stylistic path through their fifth album Passage of the Arcane, centered on the theme of “human experiences traversing into cursed oblivion.” Have Withering Soul really discovered a path of subliminal qualities, or will Passage of the Arcane only lead to disappointment?

Passage of the Arcane is a sensible progression from Last Contact for Withering Soul. Sporting Dark Fortress atmospheres brute-forced to life through death-influenced Dissection riffage, Withering Soul have departed even further from goth rock than Last Contact in favor of even more blistering melodic black metal. Gone are the low, clean croons of Withering Soul’s past, with lead man Christopher2 relying entirely on his powerful, hoarse screams for vocals. But the songs remain snappy with strong, hooky riffs and seamless transitions between various musical ideas. Death metal grime stains Withering Soul’s sonic tapestry on “Grievance Eludes the Light” and “Among Covetous Eyes,” while the sheen of synthesizers coats “Gallery of the End” and “Burden of the Valiant.” Withering Soul are clearly a talented bunch and everyone gets a chance to shine on Passage of the Arcane; with guitarist Frank G. layering “Gallery of the End” with a bright, melodic solo; drummer Rick hitting slick fills on “Grievance Eludes the Light” and bassist Joel dropping fat, sneaky lines on “Trajectory.” Withering Soul don’t break the mold with Passage of the Arcane, but they did craft an album better than their last.

There’s real dirt in Passage of the Arcane. The opening one-two-three punch of “Attrition Horizon,” “Grievance Eludes the Light,” and “The Monolith Embodied” sees Withering Soul swing with heavyweight might as Christopher and Frank G.’s guitars pummel through power chord abusive, tremolo-heavy riffs of winding, thrashy and frost rimed-natures. Things get more exploratory as Passage of the Arcane progresses, but Withering Soul never let off that initial intensity. Passage of the Arcane’s punchy production makes Rick’s kick drums really thump, and Joel’s bass comes through big time in Withering Soul’s chuggier, groovier moments (“Trajectory”). There’s an embarrassment of good riffs here, and everything clear of fat until, unfortunately, the closer “Burden of the Valiant,” but even that song picks up eventually. Like the blackened counterpart to Dormant Ordeal from earlier this year, Withering Soul more often than not embody aggression, dealing out some truly cut-throat metal on Passage of the Arcane.

But Withering Soul is held back from greatness by a lack of variety in certain areas. Riffs are multitudinous, but almost every guitar lead on Passage feels identical, usually consisting of basic eighth note arpeggios overtop tremolo riffs that don’t really do much to spruce up the chords (“Attrition Horizon,” “Gallery of the End,” “Burden of the Valiant”). It just stinks that Withering Soul couldn’t bring the creativity they have for rhythm guitar to lead. Similarly (and a bit ironically), vocal monotony is an issue, as Christopher only uses one style of scream across Passage of the Arcane’s 41 minutes. Perhaps a little goth bass singing wouldn’t go amiss, as a treat? These complaints may verge on nitpicks, but they are prominent and persistent enough to somewhat sully my enthusiasm for Passage of the Arcane.

Withering Soul assembled Passage of the Arcane out of common ingredients to the sub-genre, but tight songwriting and strong performances elevate the material. Though an immediate album in many ways, Passage was a grower for me, as repeat listenings revealed little details and how the pieces move. If you like your black metal riff-centric and melodic, this is an easy recommendation. Withering Soul may have reduced their sonic palette over the years, but the downsizing only made them leaner and meaner, and Passage of the Arcane is a lean, mean listen.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Websites: witheringsoul.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/witheringsoulband | instagram.com/witheringsoul_77
Releases Worldwide: November 14th, 2025

#2025 #35 #americanMetal #blackMetal #darkFortress #deathMetal #dissection #dormantOrdeal #liminalDreadProductions #melodicBlackMetal #moonspell #nov25 #passageOfTheArcane #review #reviews #typeONegative #witheringSoul

Withering Soul – Passage of the Arcane Review

By Andy-War-Hall

Much has changed in the decade since Withering Soul last graced this website. I was in high school when Madam X placed a scarlet 2.5 on Adverse Portrait, a scoring I would agree with wholeheartedly.1 It was an enjoyable but unfocused work, and its Moonspell-akin gothic tendencies didn’t mesh well with the band’s Dissection worship. But in a development not covered here, Withering Soul leveled up with 2021’s Last Contact, dropping the Type O Negative vocals almost entirely and amping up their blackened core with beefier riffs and more engaging compositions. Some gothic elements remained, and what did felt far better integrated into their style than before. Withering Soul continue down this stylistic path through their fifth album Passage of the Arcane, centered on the theme of “human experiences traversing into cursed oblivion.” Have Withering Soul really discovered a path of subliminal qualities, or will Passage of the Arcane only lead to disappointment?

Passage of the Arcane is a sensible progression from Last Contact for Withering Soul. Sporting Dark Fortress atmospheres brute-forced to life through death-influenced Dissection riffage, Withering Soul have departed even further from goth rock than Last Contact in favor of even more blistering melodic black metal. Gone are the low, clean croons of Withering Soul’s past, with lead man Christopher2 relying entirely on his powerful, hoarse screams for vocals. But the songs remain snappy with strong, hooky riffs and seamless transitions between various musical ideas. Death metal grime stains Withering Soul’s sonic tapestry on “Grievance Eludes the Light” and “Among Covetous Eyes,” while the sheen of synthesizers coats “Gallery of the End” and “Burden of the Valiant.” Withering Soul are clearly a talented bunch and everyone gets a chance to shine on Passage of the Arcane; with guitarist Frank G. layering “Gallery of the End” with a bright, melodic solo; drummer Rick hitting slick fills on “Grievance Eludes the Light” and bassist Joel dropping fat, sneaky lines on “Trajectory.” Withering Soul don’t break the mold with Passage of the Arcane, but they did craft an album better than their last.

There’s real dirt in Passage of the Arcane. The opening one-two-three punch of “Attrition Horizon,” “Grievance Eludes the Light,” and “The Monolith Embodied” sees Withering Soul swing with heavyweight might as Christopher and Frank G.’s guitars pummel through power chord abusive, tremolo-heavy riffs of winding, thrashy and frost rimed-natures. Things get more exploratory as Passage of the Arcane progresses, but Withering Soul never let off that initial intensity. Passage of the Arcane’s punchy production makes Rick’s kick drums really thump, and Joel’s bass comes through big time in Withering Soul’s chuggier, groovier moments (“Trajectory”). There’s an embarrassment of good riffs here, and everything clear of fat until, unfortunately, the closer “Burden of the Valiant,” but even that song picks up eventually. Like the blackened counterpart to Dormant Ordeal from earlier this year, Withering Soul more often than not embody aggression, dealing out some truly cut-throat metal on Passage of the Arcane.

But Withering Soul is held back from greatness by a lack of variety in certain areas. Riffs are multitudinous, but almost every guitar lead on Passage feels identical, usually consisting of basic eighth note arpeggios overtop tremolo riffs that don’t really do much to spruce up the chords (“Attrition Horizon,” “Gallery of the End,” “Burden of the Valiant”). It just stinks that Withering Soul couldn’t bring the creativity they have for rhythm guitar to lead. Similarly (and a bit ironically), vocal monotony is an issue, as Christopher only uses one style of scream across Passage of the Arcane’s 41 minutes. Perhaps a little goth bass singing wouldn’t go amiss, as a treat? These complaints may verge on nitpicks, but they are prominent and persistent enough to somewhat sully my enthusiasm for Passage of the Arcane.

Withering Soul assembled Passage of the Arcane out of common ingredients to the sub-genre, but tight songwriting and strong performances elevate the material. Though an immediate album in many ways, Passage was a grower for me, as repeat listenings revealed little details and how the pieces move. If you like your black metal riff-centric and melodic, this is an easy recommendation. Withering Soul may have reduced their sonic palette over the years, but the downsizing only made them leaner and meaner, and Passage of the Arcane is a lean, mean listen.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Websites: witheringsoul.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/witheringsoulband | instagram.com/witheringsoul_77
Releases Worldwide: November 14th, 2025

#2025 #35 #americanMetal #blackMetal #darkFortress #deathMetal #dissection #dormantOrdeal #liminalDreadProductions #melodicBlackMetal #moonspell #nov25 #passageOfTheArcane #review #reviews #typeONegative #witheringSoul

Thron – Vurias Review

By Grin Reaper

For the uninitiated, German quintet Thron peddles black metal in the vein of Dissection and Naglfar. They’ve had a sporadic history with AMG, where their self-titled debut and third outing Pilgrim earned very good marks, while sophomore album Abysmal never made it to the promo sump. In 2023, fourth record Dust put Thron on my radar with their seemingly effortless skill to fuse hooky leads and traditional black metal with snatches of black ‘n’ roll. After two-and-a-half years, Thron returns with Vurias, their fifth platter in a decade. In his review of Pilgrim, Eldritch Elitist noted that Thron continues to get better with each release. I agree that Dust improved on Pilgrim, but does the trend hold true for Vurias, and if so, is it enough to crack the barrier into greatness?

While black metal comprises the bedrock of Thron’s core sound, it never burdens them with tired genre tropes. Since their 2017 debut, Thron has artfully constructed slow-burn builds into ferocious second-wave hostility, bestowing their albums with a distilled dynamism uncommon in a genre largely known for direct, unencumbered aesthetics. The sophisticated approach to songwriting creates music bursting with lush layers and ample replayability. Thron imbues their melodies with a plaintive ache that touches the coldest and deadest of hearts, and their prowess in evoking open, desolate atmospheres and interweaving them with blast beats and trem picking collides like Wayfarer and Necrophobic. Vurias picks up where Dust left off, taking elements that distinguished Thron and advancing them with an even bolder vision.

Though still unmistakably Thron, Vurias incorporates new components for an even broader sonic footprint. The most noticeable enhancements are the expanded synth presence, courtesy of guitarist PVIII, and the addition of saxophone.1 Drummer and presumed cephalopod J (from Aard, Malphas, and Ghörnt, among others) pummels the skins with menacing single-mindedness (“A Paradox”) and exacting fills (“One Truth, One Light”), while also supplying texture with deft cymbal work (“Griefbearer”). PVIII’s and Ravendust’s guitars emote tones dulcet and cruel, painting profound soundscapes with dramatic depth. And though the axe-work is intricate, it’s rarely showy, making the solo from “Hubris’ Crown” a ripping good moment. Meanwhile, SXIII’s rumbling bass slinks near the bottom of the mix, unobtrusive yet complimenting the rest of the band (“The Metamorph’s Curse”). Through it all, Samca rasps with grating clarity, driving songs forward and commanding attention despite the whirling maelstrom of instrumental might. Thron excels at establishing an identity for each of Vurias’s tracks. From the Opethian retro synth in “Ungemach (Stilles Ende)” to the sultry sax swagger in “The Hunter and the Prey,” every song is punctuated with standout moments.

Vurias is a calculated slab of meloblack that thwarts the criticisms of albums past. Every instrument gleams with vibrance thanks to the balanced production and mix, which afford the requisite space for each part without drowning the others out. Besides Thron’s debut, this is their shortest album, clocking in at forty-seven minutes with nary a moment of bloat. I’ve listened through Vurias many times seeking gripes and derailers, and each time I come away compelled to appreciate it even more—to love it, even. The only thing holding Vurias back is that a couple of songs don’t reach the same exquisite heights as others. Rest assured, this is a minor quibble, as there are no bad or unessential songs. In fact, Thron has assembled a record that is more than the sum of its parts, boasting a streamlined cohesion that falls apart if the tracks are reordered or a select track is removed.2

It should come as no surprise to fans that Thron has written their best album yet, as every new record they release ascends to the top. Vurias, by the way, translates from Latin to English as ‘You Are Beautiful.’ The rationale behind the name is a mystery to me, but the album seethes with an inevitable beauty that transcends genre labels and deserves a spin from any fan of extreme metal. I’m dozens of listens in and continue to discover aspects I previously overlooked. That’s alright, though, because it reinforces the addictiveness that makes Vurias so accessible in the first place. In fact, I think I’ll spin it again.

Rating: Great!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Listenable Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025

#2025 #40 #Aard #BlackMetal #Dissection #GermanMetal #Ghornt #ListenableRecords #Malphas #MelodicBlackMetal #Naglfar #Necrophobic #Oct25 #Opeth #Review #Reviews #Thron #Vurias #Wayfarer

Thron – Vurias Review

By Grin Reaper

For the uninitiated, German quintet Thron peddles black metal in the vein of Dissection and Naglfar. They’ve had a sporadic history with AMG, where their self-titled debut and third outing Pilgrim earned very good marks, while sophomore album Abysmal never made it to the promo sump. In 2023, fourth record Dust put Thron on my radar with their seemingly effortless skill to fuse hooky leads and traditional black metal with snatches of black ‘n’ roll. After two-and-a-half years, Thron returns with Vurias, their fifth platter in a decade. In his review of Pilgrim, Eldritch Elitist noted that Thron continues to get better with each release. I agree that Dust improved on Pilgrim, but does the trend hold true for Vurias, and if so, is it enough to crack the barrier into greatness?

While black metal comprises the bedrock of Thron’s core sound, it never burdens them with tired genre tropes. Since their 2017 debut, Thron has artfully constructed slow-burn builds into ferocious second-wave hostility, bestowing their albums with a distilled dynamism uncommon in a genre largely known for direct, unencumbered aesthetics. The sophisticated approach to songwriting creates music bursting with lush layers and ample replayability. Thron imbues their melodies with a plaintive ache that touches the coldest and deadest of hearts, and their prowess in evoking open, desolate atmospheres and interweaving them with blast beats and trem picking collides like Wayfarer and Necrophobic. Vurias picks up where Dust left off, taking elements that distinguished Thron and advancing them with an even bolder vision.

Though still unmistakably Thron, Vurias incorporates new components for an even broader sonic footprint. The most noticeable enhancements are the expanded synth presence, courtesy of guitarist PVIII, and the addition of saxophone.1 Drummer and presumed cephalopod J (from Aard, Malphas, and Ghörnt, among others) pummels the skins with menacing single-mindedness (“A Paradox”) and exacting fills (“One Truth, One Light”), while also supplying texture with deft cymbal work (“Griefbearer”). PVIII’s and Ravendust’s guitars emote tones dulcet and cruel, painting profound soundscapes with dramatic depth. And though the axe-work is intricate, it’s rarely showy, making the solo from “Hubris’ Crown” a ripping good moment. Meanwhile, SXIII’s rumbling bass slinks near the bottom of the mix, unobtrusive yet complimenting the rest of the band (“The Metamorph’s Curse”). Through it all, Samca rasps with grating clarity, driving songs forward and commanding attention despite the whirling maelstrom of instrumental might. Thron excels at establishing an identity for each of Vurias’s tracks. From the Opethian retro synth in “Ungemach (Stilles Ende)” to the sultry sax swagger in “The Hunter and the Prey,” every song is punctuated with standout moments.

Vurias is a calculated slab of meloblack that thwarts the criticisms of albums past. Every instrument gleams with vibrance thanks to the balanced production and mix, which afford the requisite space for each part without drowning the others out. Besides Thron’s debut, this is their shortest album, clocking in at forty-seven minutes with nary a moment of bloat. I’ve listened through Vurias many times seeking gripes and derailers, and each time I come away compelled to appreciate it even more—to love it, even. The only thing holding Vurias back is that a couple of songs don’t reach the same exquisite heights as others. Rest assured, this is a minor quibble, as there are no bad or unessential songs. In fact, Thron has assembled a record that is more than the sum of its parts, boasting a streamlined cohesion that falls apart if the tracks are reordered or a select track is removed.2

It should come as no surprise to fans that Thron has written their best album yet, as every new record they release ascends to the top. Vurias, by the way, translates from Latin to English as ‘You Are Beautiful.’ The rationale behind the name is a mystery to me, but the album seethes with an inevitable beauty that transcends genre labels and deserves a spin from any fan of extreme metal. I’m dozens of listens in and continue to discover aspects I previously overlooked. That’s alright, though, because it reinforces the addictiveness that makes Vurias so accessible in the first place. In fact, I think I’ll spin it again.

Rating: Great!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Listenable Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025

#2025 #40 #Aard #BlackMetal #Dissection #GermanMetal #Ghornt #ListenableRecords #Malphas #MelodicBlackMetal #Naglfar #Necrophobic #Oct25 #Opeth #Review #Reviews #Thron #Vurias #Wayfarer

Ofermod – Drakosophia Review

By Angry Metal Guy

The occupational hazard of reviewing music is a fixation on novelty. At a certain point, you have heard the same riffs so many times that you can fall asleep to even the most unhinged blast attack. This bias should raise problems for a band like Ofermod, known for playing black metal of the most orthodox variety. This two-man Swedish black metal act stands tall as a beacon of Luciferian black metal in the tradition of Ondskapt, Watain, and the legendary Dissection. Back in 2012,1 Madam X heaped praise upon the band’s sophomore release Thaumiel, which I made the Record o’ the Month. Again in 2017,2 Grier was overjoyed to heap more praise on Sol Nox. And now, 13 years after the release of Thaumiel,3 Ofermod is back with Drakosophia, testing once again what’s more important: novelty or execution.

Black metal hasn’t changed much, and neither has Ofermod. Minimalist and kinetic, Drakosophia is the vision of second-wave black metal. Blasting drums, tremelo-picked guitars, with every guitar melody descending in sinister half steps. There’s something almost meditative about this music when it hits its stride, and listening to it feels like sitting in the eye of a hurricane, watching the twisting wind and water around you. Ofermod is a two-man band, driven almost entirely by Belfagor, who, despite forming the band in the 90s, put out his debut full-length in 2008 due to ongoing periods in prison. There has been a rotating cast of band members, but current vocalist Adeptus makes his debut appearance here on Drakosophia. Together, Ofermod’s sound is not so different from what it was on Thaumiel. And therefore, it relies almost entirely on strong songs and convincing performances to demonstrate quality.

Drakosophia shows its strength as it unfolds, gaining momentum the deeper it goes. My least favorite song on the record may be the opener “Aichah Kandisha,” which grinds like 1349 rather than grooves like Ofermod. But as the album progresses, things start to feel more familiar: there’s groovy riffs that beg for synchronized guitar swinging (“Drakosophia,” “Belialistic Gra’al Codex”); there’s lightning-picked melodies that no one could ever describe as “slick” or “melodic,” but that nonetheless burrow into your brain and stick there (“The Painful Movers,” “Vinyards of Gomorrah”); there’s Adeptus’ vocal performance, which has a Dim Mak-like rhythmic tendency to at once feel like it’s in line with the music and also slightly detached from it, lending a sense of chaos. And despite a good A-side, the real quality kicks off with “Zazas Zazas Nasatanada Zazas,” which is a partially hilarious and partially entrancing track with a chorus that is unforgettable.4 It’s here, and in “Belialistic Gra’al Codex” and “Sister Acolyte,” where the sense of what it means to be “orthodox” in black metal comes through. Melodic chanting sets the table in a way that gives Ofermod a unique—and slightly disconcerting—ritualistic feel.

The result is a record where everything flows towards an epic conclusion (“The Painful Movers”) while sounding great. Drakosophia clocks in at 45 minutes, almost exactly—perfect for the Angry Metal Attention Span—and leaves you wanting more. But the other thing that truly stands out about Drakosophia is that it sounds genuinely good. The drums from the Austrian guest drummer Florian Musil sound as good as any drums I’ve heard in black metal in a long time. Not only can Florian really play, Devo Andersson—who has produced every Ofermod record5—has clearly mastered the art of producing black metal that sounds acoustic. Drakosophia sounds natural and live, while still being punishingly heavy. Nothing feels re-amped or replaced, even though that’s almost certainly not true in 2025. It’s worth noting that Andersson also played bass on the album, and in that, he did himself a disservice by mixing it a bit low.

Ofermod’s Drakosophia feels like a proof of concept that what matters is how well you execute your vision, not how much you push the envelope. While I do think that Ofermod’s sound is unique—embracing the ritualistic choirs and chanting and living in groove rather than grind, are things that not a lot of bands are doing in black metal—they have not remade black metal. And yet, Belfagor has riffs and a feel for black metal orthodoxy that reminds me of the execution of the first three Taake records. And while other bands play black metal, Ofermod feels different. Like dinner with Hannibal Lecter, there’s something both deadly serious and disarmingly charming about Drakosophia. Combine that unease with riffs, excellent production, and perfect pacing, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for success.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Shadow Records
Websites: Bandcamp | facebook.com/OfermodOfficial | instagram.com|ofermodofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 3rd, 2025

#1349 #2025 #35 #BlackMetal #DimMak #Dissection #DrakosophiaReview #KingOfAsgard #Oct25 #Ofermod #Ondskapt #OrthodoxBlackMetal #RegainRecords #ShadowRecords #SolNox #SwedishBlackMetal #SwedishMetal #Taake #Thaumiel #Watain

Ofermod – Drakosophia Review

By Angry Metal Guy

The occupational hazard of reviewing music is a fixation on novelty. At a certain point, you have heard the same riffs so many times that you can fall asleep to even the most unhinged blast attack. This bias should raise problems for a band like Ofermod, known for playing black metal of the most orthodox variety. This two-man Swedish black metal act stands tall as a beacon of Luciferian black metal in the tradition of Ondskapt, Watain, and the legendary Dissection. Back in 2012,1 Madam X heaped praise upon the band’s sophomore release Thaumiel, which I made the Record o’ the Month. Again in 2017,2 Grier was overjoyed to heap more praise on Sol Nox. And now, 13 years after the release of Thaumiel,3 Ofermod is back with Drakosophia, testing once again what’s more important: novelty or execution.

Black metal hasn’t changed much, and neither has Ofermod. Minimalist and kinetic, Drakosophia is the vision of second-wave black metal. Blasting drums, tremelo-picked guitars, with every guitar melody descending in sinister half steps. There’s something almost meditative about this music when it hits its stride, and listening to it feels like sitting in the eye of a hurricane, watching the twisting wind and water around you. Ofermod is a two-man band, driven almost entirely by Belfagor, who, despite forming the band in the 90s, put out his debut full-length in 2008 due to ongoing periods in prison. There has been a rotating cast of band members, but current vocalist Adeptus makes his debut appearance here on Drakosophia. Together, Ofermod’s sound is not so different from what it was on Thaumiel. And therefore, it relies almost entirely on strong songs and convincing performances to demonstrate quality.

Drakosophia shows its strength as it unfolds, gaining momentum the deeper it goes. My least favorite song on the record may be the opener “Aichah Kandisha,” which grinds like 1349 rather than grooves like Ofermod. But as the album progresses, things start to feel more familiar: there’s groovy riffs that beg for synchronized guitar swinging (“Drakosophia,” “Belialistic Gra’al Codex”); there’s lightning-picked melodies that no one could ever describe as “slick” or “melodic,” but that nonetheless burrow into your brain and stick there (“The Painful Movers,” “Vinyards of Gomorrah”); there’s Adeptus’ vocal performance, which has a Dim Mak-like rhythmic tendency to at once feel like it’s in line with the music and also slightly detached from it, lending a sense of chaos. And despite a good A-side, the real quality kicks off with “Zazas Zazas Nasatanada Zazas,” which is a partially hilarious and partially entrancing track with a chorus that is unforgettable.4 It’s here, and in “Belialistic Gra’al Codex” and “Sister Acolyte,” where the sense of what it means to be “orthodox” in black metal comes through. Melodic chanting sets the table in a way that gives Ofermod a unique—and slightly disconcerting—ritualistic feel.

The result is a record where everything flows towards an epic conclusion (“The Painful Movers”) while sounding great. Drakosophia clocks in at 45 minutes, almost exactly—perfect for the Angry Metal Attention Span—and leaves you wanting more. But the other thing that truly stands out about Drakosophia is that it sounds genuinely good. The drums from the Austrian guest drummer Florian Musil sound as good as any drums I’ve heard in black metal in a long time. Not only can Florian really play, Devo Andersson—who has produced every Ofermod record5—has clearly mastered the art of producing black metal that sounds acoustic. Drakosophia sounds natural and live, while still being punishingly heavy. Nothing feels re-amped or replaced, even though that’s almost certainly not true in 2025. It’s worth noting that Andersson also played bass on the album, and in that, he did himself a disservice by mixing it a bit low.

Ofermod’s Drakosophia feels like a proof of concept that what matters is how well you execute your vision, not how much you push the envelope. While I do think that Ofermod’s sound is unique—embracing the ritualistic choirs and chanting and living in groove rather than grind, are things that not a lot of bands are doing in black metal—they have not remade black metal. And yet, Belfagor has riffs and a feel for black metal orthodoxy that reminds me of the execution of the first three Taake records. And while other bands play black metal, Ofermod feels different. Like dinner with Hannibal Lecter, there’s something both deadly serious and disarmingly charming about Drakosophia. Combine that unease with riffs, excellent production, and perfect pacing, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for success.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Shadow Records
Websites: Bandcamp | facebook.com/OfermodOfficial | instagram.com|ofermodofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 3rd, 2025

#1349 #2025 #35 #BlackMetal #DimMak #Dissection #DrakosophiaReview #KingOfAsgard #Oct25 #Ofermod #Ondskapt #OrthodoxBlackMetal #RegainRecords #ShadowRecords #SolNox #SwedishBlackMetal #SwedishMetal #Taake #Thaumiel #Watain

Imperialist – Prime Review

By Owlswald

Crafting a great or excellent record is a remarkable feat. But it’s another challenge entirely to consistently churn out banger after banger. This kind of consistency is the not-so-secret sauce that can launch bands into the upper echelons. While examples are numerous, California’s Imperialist is poised to demonstrate their potential for genuine longevity with third LP, Prime. Having already broken the Score Safety Counter with 2018’s Cipher, the sci-fi black metal quartet returned to impress our Elitist on staff again in 2021 with follow-up, Zenith. Now, four years later and with an EP in between, Imperialist sets its crosshairs on Prime to deliver their third quality record in a row.

Longtime followers of Imperialist’s cosmic flight path will notice that the foursome has stayed true to its blackened foundation. Sergio Soto and Bryant Quinones’ trem-picked guitars and stylish shredding—á la Dissection and Immortal—fuse with Rod Quinones’ explosive blast beats and Soto’s callous snarls to power their apocalyptic and space-faring narrative. However, on Prime, Imperialist updates their design, discarding the “loose screws” of previous albums for a meaner, more streamlined edge. The quartet’s songwriting has become more refined, featuring fluid transitions, engaging leads and solos, and strong, memorable riffs that anchor their high-energy sound. Everything about Prime is bigger, better, and more powerful than before, from the intense and technical performances to Eliran Kantor’s stunning cover art and Dan “The Man” Swanö’s excellent mix. The result is a full-force attack that hits with all its might, making Prime Imperialist’s most impressive effort to date.

Through years of dedication, Imperialist has weaponized its proven blueprint, transforming into a razor-sharp cohesive assault. Soto and Quinones’ guitars lead the charge, delivering a terrestrial invasion of light-speed tremolo runs and hooky, head-banging riffs packed full of cataclysmic energy perfectly suited for Prime’s apocalyptic premise. Imperialist prominently evolved its sound by adding melodic leads and solos that are both tasteful and technical, prioritizing emotion and phrase over showmanship to give Prime’s nine tracks greater punch and charisma. Their solos—with harmonic fluency (“A Ghost Abandoned,” “Beneath the Sands of Titan”), wah accents (“Starstorm,” “A Ghost Abandoned”), and expressive feel (“Final Hours,” “Nocturnal Eon”)—balance technicality with musical intuition while also contributing to Imperialist’s saga. Serving as the main force behind Prime’s storytelling, Soto’s vocal performance immerses the listener into the album’s vast narrative, as his tone, delivery and lyrical content perfectly marry Prime’s musical aggression with their thematic vision. His delivery has a great thrashy snarl that is flat-out mean, sounding like a mix between David DiSanto (Vektor) and Abbath (Immortal) while still retaining sharp and clear enunciation.

Prime hits hard from the start with “Starstorm” and sustains that high-energy approach for most of its forty-five-minute runtime. Bolstering Prime’s sound, Swanö’s mix forgoes the sterile feel of past albums for a lively and organic one, allowing each instrument room to breathe while pushing Soto’s vocals to the forefront. Interlude, “Heavens Sunder,” fits into the album’s arc perfectly and makes the return to Prime’s aggressive final half feel even heavier. The decision to include an interlude at the album’s midpoint was a smart move, especially given that a lack of song variation has historically been Imperialist’s Achilles’ heel. And yet, the back half of Prime still falters as its momentum wanes. “Union of the Swarm” and “Nocturnal Eon” are solid but feel less compelling, lacking the memorability of the album’s stronger tracks. Prime could have improved its staying power with greater differentiation between these songs and the album’s other material or by trimming one altogether. Fortunately, the triumphant “A Ghost Abandoned” breaks this pattern. With its sauntering rhythm, it provides a welcome change of pace before its satisfying, drifting outro delivers a sense of a completed journey, from initial onslaught to a final, fading resolution.

While it just misses greatness, Prime is without a doubt Imperialist’s most cohesive and powerful album to date. The group has successfully addressed nearly all the lingering issues from their past work while adding new depth to their sound. With Prime, these Californians are operating near the apex of their craft, having now released three consecutive quality black metal albums that cement them as one of the genre’s premier acts. No one knows where Imperialist go from here, but Prime is a journey that deserves your attention.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity
Websites: imperialistus.bandcamp.com/music | imperialistofficial.com | facebook.com/Imperialistofficial
Releases Worldwide: September 5th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetalMetal #BlackMetal #Dissection #Immortal #Imperialist #Prime #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #TranscendingObscurity #Vektor

Imperialist – Prime Review

By Owlswald

Crafting a great or excellent record is a remarkable feat. But it’s another challenge entirely to consistently churn out banger after banger. This kind of consistency is the not-so-secret sauce that can launch bands into the upper echelons. While examples are numerous, California’s Imperialist is poised to demonstrate their potential for genuine longevity with third LP, Prime. Having already broken the Score Safety Counter with 2018’s Cipher, the sci-fi black metal quartet returned to impress our Elitist on staff again in 2021 with follow-up, Zenith. Now, four years later and with an EP in between, Imperialist sets its crosshairs on Prime to deliver their third quality record in a row.

Longtime followers of Imperialist’s cosmic flight path will notice that the foursome has stayed true to its blackened foundation. Sergio Soto and Bryant Quinones’ trem-picked guitars and stylish shredding—á la Dissection and Immortal—fuse with Rod Quinones’ explosive blast beats and Soto’s callous snarls to power their apocalyptic and space-faring narrative. However, on Prime, Imperialist updates their design, discarding the “loose screws” of previous albums for a meaner, more streamlined edge. The quartet’s songwriting has become more refined, featuring fluid transitions, engaging leads and solos, and strong, memorable riffs that anchor their high-energy sound. Everything about Prime is bigger, better, and more powerful than before, from the intense and technical performances to Eliran Kantor’s stunning cover art and Dan “The Man” Swanö’s excellent mix. The result is a full-force attack that hits with all its might, making Prime Imperialist’s most impressive effort to date.

Through years of dedication, Imperialist has weaponized its proven blueprint, transforming into a razor-sharp cohesive assault. Soto and Quinones’ guitars lead the charge, delivering a terrestrial invasion of light-speed tremolo runs and hooky, head-banging riffs packed full of cataclysmic energy perfectly suited for Prime’s apocalyptic premise. Imperialist prominently evolved its sound by adding melodic leads and solos that are both tasteful and technical, prioritizing emotion and phrase over showmanship to give Prime’s nine tracks greater punch and charisma. Their solos—with harmonic fluency (“A Ghost Abandoned,” “Beneath the Sands of Titan”), wah accents (“Starstorm,” “A Ghost Abandoned”), and expressive feel (“Final Hours,” “Nocturnal Eon”)—balance technicality with musical intuition while also contributing to Imperialist’s saga. Serving as the main force behind Prime’s storytelling, Soto’s vocal performance immerses the listener into the album’s vast narrative, as his tone, delivery and lyrical content perfectly marry Prime’s musical aggression with their thematic vision. His delivery has a great thrashy snarl that is flat-out mean, sounding like a mix between David DiSanto (Vektor) and Abbath (Immortal) while still retaining sharp and clear enunciation.

Prime hits hard from the start with “Starstorm” and sustains that high-energy approach for most of its forty-five-minute runtime. Bolstering Prime’s sound, Swanö’s mix forgoes the sterile feel of past albums for a lively and organic one, allowing each instrument room to breathe while pushing Soto’s vocals to the forefront. Interlude, “Heavens Sunder,” fits into the album’s arc perfectly and makes the return to Prime’s aggressive final half feel even heavier. The decision to include an interlude at the album’s midpoint was a smart move, especially given that a lack of song variation has historically been Imperialist’s Achilles’ heel. And yet, the back half of Prime still falters as its momentum wanes. “Union of the Swarm” and “Nocturnal Eon” are solid but feel less compelling, lacking the memorability of the album’s stronger tracks. Prime could have improved its staying power with greater differentiation between these songs and the album’s other material or by trimming one altogether. Fortunately, the triumphant “A Ghost Abandoned” breaks this pattern. With its sauntering rhythm, it provides a welcome change of pace before its satisfying, drifting outro delivers a sense of a completed journey, from initial onslaught to a final, fading resolution.

While it just misses greatness, Prime is without a doubt Imperialist’s most cohesive and powerful album to date. The group has successfully addressed nearly all the lingering issues from their past work while adding new depth to their sound. With Prime, these Californians are operating near the apex of their craft, having now released three consecutive quality black metal albums that cement them as one of the genre’s premier acts. No one knows where Imperialist go from here, but Prime is a journey that deserves your attention.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity
Websites: imperialistus.bandcamp.com/music | imperialistofficial.com | facebook.com/Imperialistofficial
Releases Worldwide: September 5th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetalMetal #BlackMetal #Dissection #Immortal #Imperialist #Prime #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #TranscendingObscurity #Vektor