#dissonantdeathmetal — Public Fediverse posts

In an act of unconscious serendipity, shortly before beginning this review, I re-read Jean-Paul Sartre’s Nausea. The serendipity is not in the proximity between Nausea and Vomit—though that’s also interesting—but in a particular manner of revelation. There’s a part in the book where our protagonist, suddenly seized by a violent attack of his titular malaise, rushes near-blindly through the streets, and his thoughts become fragmented into repetitive near-word-association as he begins to confront the horror of things existing.1 The lyrics of Acausal Intrusion’s fourth album, Vomit Meditations, are disjointed and uncanny in precisely this sense; reading them instantly linked these two works in my mind. The music itself is no less viscerally chaotic and confrontational, as the duo step into what’s possibly the heaviest and strangest iteration of their already intense and avant-garde sound so far—one which pairs perfectly with a life-altering existential crisis.

Vomit Meditations lives up to its moniker as it sees Acausal Intrusion’s signature hyper-dissonance and unsettling contemplativeness contorted into a bizarre series of violent spewings, punctuated by uneasy moments of reflective resonance, even beauty, to which Panpsychism’s doomier shades are confined, channeled through the acoustic and ambient. The free-jazz influence is stark, and not only in the prominence of piano in the album’s stiller passages (“Vomit Meditation,” “Psychic Abolishment”). Twisted guitar lines—more Cosmic Putrefaction or Ad Nauseum than Gorguts—writhe up and down and in and out of focus above the churning miasma of impossible tempos and abyssal belches—unheard this side of Portal—their seeming stochasticism belied as they coalesce into a shape more than their sum. Spasmodic scales and sudden lead switches from which one reflexively recoils start to make sense, and the real melodicisms that arise over the runtime grow more apparent. Recurring seizures of percussion grow hypnotic as the curve of their circularity becomes clear (“Convex Hidden Echoes”), and a ringing mass of wails and riffs rises until the overlapping tones produce the illusion of symphonics (“Psychic Abolishment”). The barrier to entry remains high, but the rewards are significant.

It’s in this paradox of chaotic reasoning where Vomit Meditations develops its vice grip. With alluring psychedelic rock (“Vomit Meditation”) it beckons its subject in, and with a chilling nocturne it leads them to the final, most awful revelation of all (“Psychic Abolishment”). With barely a beat between the unironic beauty and the hellish cacophony, the latter in particular gains near-transcendence. Although the album is marked by repeated 180-degree turns in rhythm (most aggressive on “Usurping Vaporous Primal Vibrations” and “Convex Hidden Echoes”), it has an unexplainable almost groove, which actually becomes explicit at times (“Vital Transformation”), and the endless about-turns and restless rolling and crashing morph into a hideously compelling dance (“Vomit Meditation,” “Requiem Murmur”). Once again, I struggle to believe drummer and vocalist Cave Ritual’s humanity, hearing such things. Although guitars jump in and out of focus (“Usurping…,” “Psychic Abolishment”) with riffs mostly possessing a stabbing, dragging, flailing discordance as though Nythroth’s fingers were strangling the very instrument used to produce them, their purpose never fails to manifest in the organic yet unpredictable shapes they create (“Convex…,” “Requiem Murmur”). Plus, there’s a lot more melody infused into the music than an uncritical ear would like to acknowledge (“Vomit Meditation,” “Vital Transformation”).

Vomit Meditations also largely improves on areas where previous records fell short. It flows with remarkable ease considering its freeform style and considerable 50-minute runtime and grows more compelling as it progresses. The second half’s superiority is arguably down to paying off what is better than the first in pacing, intrigue, and memorability, though arguably this is dependent on the first half having set up the themes it pays off. The production, continuing to be rich and dynamic for death metal but with the vocals and drums relatively forward, works better than it has previously. I’d recommend listening on a pair of good headphones that will enable you to catch the myriad horrors occurring within the soundscape. Nonetheless, the mix, as well as the relentless complexity and improvisational feel, will persist in alienating many listeners. Though Acausal Intrusion distinguish themselves from the ultra-extreme-for-extremity’s sake crowd by demonstrating that they can turn apparent randomness into a form of reason, they could perhaps tone it down just a tad.

Vomit Meditations is Acausal Intrusion’s best album. Some will interpret this as damning with faint praise an album in a discography otherwise too ugly and over the top to be good. I mean it quite differently. Vomit Meditations is violently, masochistically enjoyable and multifaceted and arresting, and it gets better on each spin. It requires a certain receptiveness—what experimental extreme metal doesn’t—and Acausal Intrusion will maintain a modest following, but its mania feels so deliciously meaningful I don’t even want to try escaping it.

Rating: Very Good2
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger Records
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

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Laconist - Where Being Ends, I begin

"Brazilian Brutal Death Metal releases first EP after a 10 year hiatus"

https://getmusic.fm/l/ySsPB6

#blackmetal #deathmetal #grindcore #brutaldeathmetal #extrememetal #dissonantdeathmetal #braziliandeathmetal #music

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Laconist - Vermiforming

"Brazilian Brutal Death Metal releases first single after a 10 year hiatus"

https://getmusic.fm/l/280nAw

#blackmetal #deathmetal #grindcore #brutaldeathmetal #extrememetal #dissonantdeathmetal #braziliandeathmetal #music

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

Qrixkuor – The Womb of the World Review

By Kenstrosity

Four and a half years ago, Qrixkuor’s debut LP Poison Palinopsia took me by complete surprise, shoving its way inexorably towards a #3 spot on my Top Ten(ish) of 2021. Merging elements of psychedelia, black-and-white horror/thriller OSTs, and cavernous death metal into one gnarled abomination, the UK duo evokes an ever-contorting grotesquery put to music. After 2022’s follow-up EP Zoetrope, which left me cold by comparison, I waited with bated, anxious breath for the next long-form opus. At long last it looms just over the horizon, The Womb of the World.

Two key differences distinguish The Womb of the World from Poison Palinopsia. Firstly, it consists of four epics instead of two, clocking in at a comparable net runtime of 50 minutes. Secondly, Qrixkuor’s trademark orchestrations are performed by The Orchestra of the Silent Stars, which means every instrument and voice you hear is the genuine article. From there, much of the sound and style you’ve heard from Qrixkuor before carries over to today. Cavernous, horrific, bizarre and beautiful, The Womb of the World splits open a cosmic gash from which endless unknowable terrors spill forth in uncontrolled hemorrhage. Head-spinning arpeggios, cascading chromatics, unrelenting riff barrages, and dramatic orchestral hysteria coalesce into a barely ordered chaos that tests my sanity with every phrase. A deformed maze of unhinged twangs, discordant choirs, and reckless blasts guides me but refuses to hold my hand, leaving me to get lost in a miasma of ghastly visions the likes of which only nightmares conjure. With this deeply disturbing methodology, Qrixkuor once again invokes a singular beauty from viscous tar most foul.

Just as was the case for Poison Palinopsia, The Womb of the World isn’t a record of immediacy, but rather one of tricky depth and exceptional layering. With every revisit, compelled as I am to return to something as disturbingly alluring as this, new petals unfurl, additional barbs prick the skin, and my mind falls further down Qrixkuor’s abyss. One example out of countless multitudes, epic 17-minute closer “The Womb of the World” disguises vampiric organs underneath glistening strings and serrated death metal riffs and rhythms. Eventually, those more dominant elements spread out, allowing dramatic pipes to fill the void left between; only to be once more superseded not only by a prolonged and intensely satisfying guitar solo that I’d sooner expect from a much sleazier act, but also the record’s most ascendant orchestral climax. In another case, a torturous chaos howling throughout “And You Shall Know Perdition as Your Shrine” obfuscates all forms that would dare stand behind it, but as the perilous brambles shift and writhe, I start to see an underlying order emanating from within. Suddenly, guest vocalist Jaded Lungs’ (Adorior) hellish utterances and S’s complex guitar work and lush orchestrations ring with a definition and clarity I couldn’t acquire before. That gentle order which Qrixkuor wields so well ensures that The Womb of the World twists and slides through such tumultuous environs as these with uncannily fluidity—act to act, song to song, verse to verse, measure to measure—leaving behind nary a single wasted second.

The Womb of the World is undeniably memorable in a way Poison Palinopsia never quite achieved. I am loath to call anything Qrixkuor pens accessible, but opener “So Spoke the Silent Stars” launches the record with such incredible power and propulsion—exhibiting, largely through D’s fantastic drum performance, a deathly muscularity fortified by the grace and flexibility of a far more lithe and lean figure—that it embeds deep within my psyche. “Slithering Serendipity” pulls off the same feat, albeit through a more emotional appeal. Emotive and exuberant soloing, inspired choir bursts, and deceptively simple lead-guitar/piano core melodies peel back the calloused flesh that shields The Womb of the World’s bleeding heart. Thus, it invites me to fall hopelessly in love with that which should revolt and repulse. Whatever flaws that seemed to exist up to that point fall away into nothingness, made meaningless by the passion and commitment Qrixkuor poured into every curled note.

But I must remember, flaws are the essence of true beauty. For The Womb of the World, those flaws are more often than not ones of production as opposed to performance. Most notably, the drums. D’s performance is nothing short of staggering, but his snare is muffled, his cymbals a touch glassy for my taste, and his bass drum just muddy enough to congeal in moments of extreme rapidity. Yet, it’s hard to imagine that The Womb of the World would sound the way it should if Qrixkuor erased those blemishes. In any case, it’s safe to say that Qrixkuor outdid themselves. Their sound and style won’t find fans in every corner. In fact, I’d go so far as to say The Womb of the World is liable to weed out prudish listeners more harshly than Poison Palinopsia already had. But it is an unqualified success all the same, a mastapeece for those to whom sanity is immaterial. Should you be of that sort, The Womb of the World is essential.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Invictus Productions
Websites: qrixkuordeath.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/qrixkuor
Releases Worldwide: November 7th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Adorior #DeathMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #InvictusProductions #Nov25 #PsycheledicMetal #Qrixkuor #Review #Reviews #SymphonicDeathMetal #SymphonicMetal #TheOrchestraOfTheSilentStars #TheWombOfTheWorld #UKMetal

Conjurer – Unself Review

By Dear Hollow

I’m beginning to think Mire was a fluke. I’m not saying that as a bad thing, but I remember listening to Conjurer’s debut and thinking that it was a top post-metal album steeped in atmosphere and enigma, tied together with vicious vocals and vindictive weight.1 So then, I was immensely let down by follow-up Páthos because it seemed to shed substance for novelty: if I’m being honest, its stark dichotomy of heartwrenching melodies and kickass riffs felt inauthentic and shoehorned. Thus, I approached Unself carefully, hoping for something like Mire but tentatively expecting Páthos. What I got, however, was neither. You see, Mire was a fluke not in quality but in approach, because Unself proves that Conjurer prioritizes riff, weaponizing it for the very human tale of the deconstruction of self.

The title track enters with what I would expect from an early 2010s metalcore band intro,2 the Americana cover of 1919 gospel song “I Can’t Feel At Home in this World Anymore” morphing into a full-on dissodeath takedown via a barb of squealing dissonance. While this and the final song, “The World is Not My Home” seem to tie up the album into a thematic deconstruction of religion, Unself is a bit more complex than that. It reflects the journey of vocalist/guitarist Dani Nightingale through an autism diagnosis and discovery of them being non-binary. Similarly reflecting this complexity and remaining incredibly difficult to neatly categorize its sonic assault, Conjurer lays a foundation of post-metal’s meandering rhythmic hulk with death metal intensity, sludge tonal abuse, and a sleek modern production built atop, with – in Unself – hints of black metal. It’s not the second coming of Mire – it’s Unself and undeniably on-brand and completely authentic – and that’s perfectly okay for Conjurer.

Unself’s structure shows Conjurer’s devotion to natural growth, a welcome change from the shoehorned Páthos – largely because Nightingale’s sonic struggles with self-discovery undergird the movements. The two halves of the album are divided into three tracks, bookended by the Huntsmen-influenced thematic motif of the aforesaid “I Can’t Feel at Home in This World” morphed into ugly beatdowns and yearning sadness. The meat of the two suites fall into one of three categories: the relatively traditional post-metal waltzing of Amenra’s heavier moments in sprawling weight (“All Apart,” “Foreclosure”), the yearning chord progressions and melodies recalling Páthos’ emotive emphasis to a more effective degree (“There Is No Warmth,” “Let Us Live”), or the outright assaults of blackened sludge and -core breakdowns (“The Searing Glow,” “Hang Them in Your Head”). As the album progresses, so does the intensity. The latter, the most vicious of the bunch, feel like they nearly boil over, nearly forsaking the post-metal attack for an obscure death metal attack a la Convulsing or Adversarial – making interlude “A Plea” truly the eye of the storm in its minimalist approach, distant vocal samples, and acoustic strumming.

The balance between novelty and songwriting remains an issue for Conjurer. Because of the trichotomy of its sounds, Unself offers different levels of quality. At first, the more traditional post-metal cuts (“All Apart,” “Foreclosure”) feel like absolute bangers, touched with darkness and harmony – but then you hear the other two approaches and they suddenly feel overly long and uneventful in comparison. Likewise, there are several tracks that could stand a good trimming, simply because many feature a singular abrupt tonal shift from melodic to dissonant in its last respective third (“There is No Warmth,” “Let Us Live”). A more divisive take is that Conjurer’s production is very modern and sleek, the down-tuned leads more akin to 2010s metalcore acts like The Plot in You or The Sorrow, an accessibility largely contradicting post-metal’s historic opaqueness (Neurosis) and death metal’s hostility (Bolt Thrower), so while I liked its more “loud and ouchy” tones, others may not be so persuaded.

The novelty and the emotion are resolved in Unself, as Conjurer finally feels authentic and realized. No, Unself is not better than Mire, but it feels more genuine and human than Páthos, offering some of the act’s most intense material to date while chronicling the dismantling of the self into something more authentic. Not only does Dani Nightingale embark on a journey of self-discovery, but Conjurer does too. I’m just happy to be along for the ride.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: conjureruk.bandcamp.com | conjureruk.com | facebook.com/conjureruk
Releases Worldwide: October 24th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Adversarial #Amenra #BlackMetal #BoltThrower #BritishMetal #Conjurer #Convulsing #DeathMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #Huntsmen #Neurosis #NuclearBlastRecords #Oct25 #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #TheOngoingConcept #ThePlotInYou #TheSorrow #Unself #VeilOfMaya

#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