#dissonantblackmetal — Public Fediverse posts

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

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

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

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

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

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

The spirit of metal has always been transgressive. Even though the genre can no longer be epitomized by a group of men with long hair, wearing all black, screaming about Satan and death,1, there remains an element that threatens an established order or sensibility. This is most obvious in the sound itself, which apparently turns a majority of listeners away even as it attracts weirdos like us. But while we may roll our eyes at metal of any kind being dismissed as ‘just noise’ and ‘horrible’, there are some cases where we can acknowledge that the music in question really is very inaccessible. Then we’re confronted with that same transgressiveness non-metalheads face when they listen to less-extreme metal, and enjoyment—let alone qualitative assessment—becomes complex. So it was when I was faced with Dhrupad Anutpada (ধপদ অন$ৎপ&দ): Apophatic Ragas Of Non-Origination, the debut of Indian/Canadian act Nirriti whose intense blackened noise is paired with a philosophical theme that denies the occurrence of creation. Its heresy is every bit as transcendentally horrifying as it sounds.

Nirriti are fully committed to their unorthodoxy. As members of black/noise circle Kolkata Inner Order Propaganda—along with Tetragrammacide, Necrodeity, among others—the trio demonstrate a level of nightmarishness worthy of the circle’s proclaimed “esoterrorism.” Not only is the lyrical theme bizarre yet intriguing, but the music is some of the most oppressive I’ve ever heard. For context, after finishing my first play-through of Dhrupad Anutpada, I decided to listen to Portal to “wind down.” Nirriti’s use of guitar as something from which to make a shuddering wall of sound, from which the occasional dissonant tremolo scale creeps out, is somewhat similar to Portal’s. Here, this wall feels still more monolithic due to Dodecahedron-on-steroids percussive violence that breaks away from a cacophonous blast, only to smash any hint of quiet with cymbals. Omnipresent vocal reverb, that iterates nigh on every hellish roar into a multiplicity of frightening confusion and chaos, becomes the final smothering layer in Dhrupad Anutpada’s impenetrable shroud of horror.

Up to this point, everything I’ve said about Dhrupad Anutpada could be taken positively or negatively—a quirk of how we often discuss extreme metal. This cognitive dissonance is as central to the proper experience of the album as literal harmonic dissonance. Nirriti’s take on noisy brutality approaches the hypnotic as they infuse passages with a sense of repetition through just-audible repeating scales and the aforementioned flickering echoes of vocals (“Mandukya…,”2 “In the Hallways…”). This creates a viscerally chilling sense of a tape skipping or playing backwards, or of the dizziness you feel just before you faint. It’s strange, but such passages grip the listener more powerfully than those where the reverb and blackened sensibility soften to allow the riffs breathing room (“One Foot…,” “Glissando…”), though the latter do reset the sempiternal rhythm, and inject needed jabs of urgency at their best (“One foot…,” “Golden Yolk…”). The relentless drumming, often more prominent than the guitars, serves primarily as a propeller to churn up these waters, such that it becomes a perverse relief when it settles into a battering, crashing attack (“In the Hallways…,” “Golden Yolk…,” “Vilambit Laya…”); because you can at least count the blows.

Dhrupad Anutpada maintains a consistent level of intensity thanks to these constant, if sometimes subtle, fluctuations. Creeping guitar ascents (“In the Hallways…,”), a rhythmic syncopation between roars and drums (“Mandukya…”), and the sudden breaks into noise (“Glissando…”) or the comparative ease of dissonant death metal (“One Foot…”) keep one hooked, straining one’s ears to catch the nuances in this chthonic chaos. Nirriti display an impressive command of their craft, turning harsh vocals into a weapon of horror, wielding guitars like percussion and percussion like punishment. It’s clearly intended to overwhelm and unsettle its audience. The problem is that it’s perhaps too successful, Dhrupad Anutpada being so exhausting that it can make one feel physically nauseated. After many listens, once the initial shock has passed, it’s easier to spot the places Nirriti reuse their tricks, and the corresponding movements lose a little potency (“In the Hallways…,” “Vilambit Laya…”).

I want to believe Dhrupad Anutpada is as profound as it presents itself. There is something to be said for an album that so powerfully confronts and terrifies its listener—it is the very essence of metal and the heart of philosophical unorthodoxy. Yet Nirriti tread a touch too far into the formless abyss to reach all but the most dedicated acolytes of the heretical metal underground. Dhrupad Anutpada may open your mind, but it’s just as likely to send you scrambling, horrified, away from the nightmare Nirriti have unleashed.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Iron Bonehead Productions
Websites: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

There’s a lot of weird shit floating around the metalsphere, and that includes Voidthrone’s newest addition, Dreaming Rat. The Seattle quartet has been kicking around for a decade, and in that time have released three prior platters of escalating lunacy. Without question, Dreaming Rat is Voidthrone’s most unhinged concoction to date, and a quick look at their Bandcamp credits gives prospective listeners a window into the alchemical ingredients they cook with, including Otamatone, conch shell, jaw harp, vibraslap, digeridoo, spoons, and a fretless bass. Throw in vocalist Zhenya Frolov’s deranged vocal stylings, and you’ve got yourself a bona fide manic expression of dissonant blackened death metal. With so many disparate components in Dreaming Rat’s stew, does Voidthrone soothe the savage beast or unleash a waking nightmare?

Listening to Dreaming Rat is a bit like experiencing an auditory fever dream, where disconnected fragments congeal into lurid, atonal anarchy. Voidthrone didn’t arrive at this sound overnight, though. Debut Spiritual War Tactics whipped and frothed with the restrained vitality of Krallice, and follow-up Kur added jazz-informed touches in the vein of Imperial Triumphant. Physical Degradation evolved Voidthrone’s sound, integrating more unconventional instrumentation and pushing the band’s songwriting past its comfort zone. On Dreaming Rat, Voidthrone takes the blueprint laid out on Physical Degradation and indiscriminately expands the range for strange. The result sees Frolov stretching his vocal performance into frenzied tirades, covering the gamut from Replicant’s vomitous barks to Sigh’s oddball deliveries. The instrumentation also gets exponentially wackier, as it conjures the rabid wrath of Pyrrhon along with the chaotic instincts of Afterbirth, resulting in an unpredictable romp to the end of the world.

At Dreaming Rat’s core, Voidthrone details the life and death of a solar system through bleak eras, segmenting the album into present, past, and future. The arcs are presented in that order, with each one comprised of three songs. The present describes the apex of a civilization, harnessing the promises forged upon the hopes and chaos of the past. Meanwhile, Voidthrone paints a grim outlook for the future, specifically calling out ‘an extinguished, lonely death of the physical, spiritual, and cognitive.’1 The lyrics throughout Dreaming Rat read like the demented ravings of a madman’s manifesto,2 and while I don’t think I could have divined the album’s overarching concept from them alone, reading them amplifies the bedlam Voidthrone has crafted on Dreaming Rat.

Writing music this lawless may seem haphazard, but over repeated listens, I’ve begun to glimpse the method to Dreaming Rat’s madness. Without question, everyone in Voidthrone earns their stripes. Ronald Foodsack’s guitars drench Dreaming Rat with warbling dissonance, perpetually in flux so that there’s never a riff or refrain to inhibit the music’s incessant lurch. Whether moving at frantic paces (“III-I. Surfing the Abyss”) or decelerating to a plodding crawl (“II-II. Morbid Seagull”), Ron’s six-stringed blitz never stalls. Additionally, Gavin Brooks contributes acoustic guitar and solos while manning the glorious fretless bass.3 Technical death metal has hogged the fretless bass for too long, and I’m glad Voidthrone has the stones to add it to disso metal’s tool chest. Tracks like “I-I. Bergen” and “II-I. Homeless Animal” showcase the character the instrument offers, bolstering the ever-shifting nature of Dreaming Rat. Drummer Josh Keifer grounds the band ably, locked into a supporting role that allows the other instruments to take center stage while he keeps things on the rails. Frolov’s feral vocals and the host of unconventional instruments further enrich Voidthrone’s distinctive identity, establishing what sounds like it could be the death throes of the universe.

What Voidthrone accomplishes with Dreaming Rat is fascinating and unique, and merits everyone’s attention. Sure, some songs could be trimmed to make such a scathing album a bit shorter and more palatable, and the three arcs could use some musical cues to distinguish songs thematically from one another, but Dreaming Rat is a crowning achievement for the band. Voidthrone’s psychedelic psychosis makes bold promises on paper and completely delivers in fact, and when I’m in the mood to get really weird with it, this will be the album I reach for.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

Free download codes:

BÁL - Dög (Full-length)

"The cover talks for itself. You'll hear what you see."

https://getmusic.fm/l/u9xMZB

#blackmetal #rawblackmetal #atmosphericblackmetal #dissonantblackmetal #music

The thing I am most afraid of is losing my mind. The progressive destruction dementia wreaks upon a brain is upsetting enough to endure from the outside, but the horror of that brain potentially being mine is a thought that keeps me up at night. While not explicitly about dementia, To Become the Endless Static follows the disintegration of a person’s mind as “[a]ll pathways, dreams and connections to what once formed their identity spiral down, merging into the great nothing, the endless static.” It’s a frightening, abstract concept that naturally suits Aversio Humanitatis’ brand of freeform dissonant black metal, which here takes a turn for the still more intense and unsettling. The group have garnered a reputation for long rumination between releases, and though not everyone might agree, 2020’s Behold the Silent Dwellers demonstrated the fruitfulness of this approach with its nine-year-awaited greatness. Six years on, with the sophomore but a shadow in the nebulous past, the apparition of Endless Static portended greatness once more, in addition to a genuinely scary theme. I was only too happy to indulge my masochism.

Much like the march of time and an incurable disease, Endless Static does not wait until you’re ready before attacking. “Long Stretch the Shadows” threatens whiplash as it erupts off the start line with relentless percussion and tremolos bending at uncomfortable angles. It epitomises the shift in Aversio Humanitatis’ already extreme and dissonant style towards a still more complex, confrontational, and often faster version of itself, which dominates across the album. Rhythms shift more frequently, and the distortion wrought by the layering of agonised roars and churning riffs is more clamorous; even the slower aspects are more haunting. Endless Static sees a leaning into a chaotic splendour akin to a sped-up Patristic, a more acerbic Schammasch, rendered in a deceptively melodic, deeply atmospheric way that at turns also recalls Aeviterne and Selbst. But Aversio Humanitatis prefer to create their mournfulness and urgency by disguising it as dissonance in a way distinct from any of the above. Endless Static is a masterful distillation of this practice: a soundscape whose violently aversive face admits more honesty and beauty the more you allow it.

Endless Static doesn’t just embody its concept generally; it lives it viscerally. The lurching of discordant scales (title track, “Blackened Mold Marrow”), and repeated strip-back and surge in of percussion (“Long Stretch…,” “Collapsing into the Resonance”) is upsetting yet mesmerising. And its transformation into a stumbling sway (“Strange Angles,” “The White Noise is Calling”) elevates unease with doubt. Shuddering, multitracked screams, cymbals panting like laboured breaths, and disorienting rhythm and riff patterns (“Strange Angles,” “Blackened Mold Marrow”) express the nightmare of incurable confusion. The soft creep of a melancholic tremolo behind the recurrent tumbles of percussion, and the bleeding of their melody into the pervasive atmosphere (title track, “Collapsing…”) communicate the grief of loss and the fear of the future. These patterns develop with the runtime too: the tightness with which harmony is sealed into overtly cold guitar lines slowly loosens and vocals slip more frequently into a desperate, anguished wail, culminating in the stirring lead melodies and devastating resistance of closing duo “The White Noise…” and “Collapsing…” All the while, the terror-amplifying resonance of the vocals and sinister edge to the riffs never ceases to feel frightening. But Aversio Humanitatis’ ability to shape these dissonant waves of assault into something beautiful without compromising on this affecting frightfulness makes Endless Static greatly more compelling than it otherwise might have been.

That Aversio Humanitatis can communicate all this so compellingly in a mere 35 minutes makes it that much more impactful. The speed at which “Long Stretch…”‘s confrontational unease becomes the ardour-filled protest “Collapsing…” is upsetting—another metaphor perhaps. This brings me to my only real complaint about Endless Static, which is how short it is; though I suppose it’s better to have brilliance and be left hungry than have a flawed abundance. I must, more importantly, draw attention to the drumming—courtesy of J.H—that rivals last year’s Patristic in its tenacity, dynamism, and unhinged precision whilst being so ridiculously fast and expressive (“Blackened Mold Marrow” has my jaw on the floor). Its speed and violence play no small part in Endless Static’s horror. I am also sometimes drawn to wonder if vocalist A.M is actually undergoing some phantasmagorical transformation, so wild and terrifying are his howls.

Dissonant black metal bands and degenerative diseases operate in the shadows, but Aversio Humanitatis now, if never before, deserves all the light we can cast on them. But more likely that this hypnotically horrifying work will yank you violently into its darkness. Harrowingly inexorable even in its brevity, one can’t escape the draw To Become the Endless Static.

Rating: Excellent
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Debemur Morti Productions
Websites: Official | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Miasme – Keep Them at a Distance
#AtmosphericBlackMetal #Blackgaze #DoomDeathMetal #Metal #atmosphericblackmetal #blackmetal #dissonantblackmetal #doommetal #postblackmetal #postmetal #progressiveblackmetal #Bolesławiec
CC BY (#CreativeCommons Attribution) #ccmusic
https://miasme.bandcamp.com/album/keep-them-at-a-distance

Free download codes:

BÁL - Dög (Full-length)

"The cover talks for itself. You'll hear what you see."

https://getmusic.fm/l/o9ELbS

#blackmetal #rawblackmetal #atmosphericblackmetal #dissonantblackmetal #music

Free download codes:

BÁL - Dög (Full-length)

"The cover talks for itself. You'll hear what you see."

https://getmusic.fm/l/WvEweF

#blackmetal #rawblackmetal #atmosphericblackmetal #dissonantblackmetal #music

Free download codes:

BÁL - Dög (Full-length)

"The cover talks for itself. You'll hear what you see."

https://getmusic.fm/l/7eHtR8

#blackmetal #rawblackmetal #atmosphericblackmetal #dissonantblackmetal #music

Free download codes:

BÁL - Dög (Full-length)

"The cover talks for itself. You'll hear what you see."

https://getmusic.fm/l/R7m8xn

#blackmetal #rawblackmetal #atmosphericblackmetal #dissonantblackmetal #music

#deathmetal #thrashmetal #blackmetal #powermetal #doommetal #stonermetal #progmetal
#groovemetal #heavymetal #vikingmetal #warmetal #blackeneddeathmetal #deathnroll #melodicdeathmetal #symphonicmetal #deathdoommetal
#funeraldoommetal
#sludgemetal #folkmetal #paganmetal #glammetal
#gothicmetal #grindcore #deathcore
#deathgrind #goregrind #industrialmetal #postmetal #mathcore #dissonantdeathmetal #dissonantblackmetal #neoclassicalmetal
#speedmetal #crossovermetal #nwothm #nwobhm #djent #metalcore

best of 2023 albums 2/17:

#Voidescent - Dust and Embers

https://voidescent.bandcamp.com/album/dust-and-embers

My top pick in terms of #dissonant chaos in the vein of #Svartidaudi

#blackmetal #deathmetal #dissonantmetal #dissonantblackmetal