#dronemetal — Public Fediverse posts

Entheomorphosis – Pyhä Kuilu Review

By Dear Hollow

If I’ve learned anything from Dark Buddha Rising, it’s that drone metal goes hand-in-hand with spiritual awakening. The blinding light of transcendence and the shadows of the occult are parts of the same jagged landscape of existence, and the abyss rules beneath, embodying both creation and destruction. Gentle and ruthless in equal measure, drone metal’s tides of mountainous riffs and thunderous tones offer the secrets of the universe and the nonexistence that perpetually threatens every fiber. Dark Buddha Rising exemplified this in its Buddhism-influenced aesthetic tied to hypnotic and ritualist drone, pulsing percussion, and a flurry of vocal attacks to conjure and invoke a dark trance. With their ongoing hiatus, Entheomorphosis takes up the mantle.

Appropriately, Entheomorphosis is the spiritual successor of Dark Buddha Rising, taking its namesake after its 2009 album of the same name, its primary architect being former guitarist/vocalist Vesa Ajomo. A quartet, other members include Mr. Peter Hayden/PH/Enphin alum Lauri Kivelä (also of Alitila) on bass and JP Koivisto (also of Vallihauta) on guitar, as well as Lassi Männikkö of Gangrened and Ludalloy behind the kit. While Dark Buddha Rising offered a surprisingly nimble and balanced approach to drone in energetic percussion and obscure vocal approaches, Entheomorphosis embraces the sprawl and a more predictable vocal dimension, alongside a much more erratic percussion presence. Debut Pyhä Kuilu (“holy abyss” in Finnish) embraces the spiritual awakening of shedding old skin with shuddering tone abuse and glacial crawls in its favor, even if it pales in comparison to its mother act.

Entheomorphosis does a great job of compacting drone metal’s most trademark features in a tidy thirty-five-minute runtime, thanks to concise songwriting. It features four tracks, with the bookends comprising the main movements (“Alkiema,” “Iätön”). These are the transcended Arhats in a drone metal fan’s nirvana: droning riffs, tortured vocals, and breathless patience. Conjuring the Sabbath-worshipping likes more of Earth than Sunn O))) in its slightly orange and hazy tone (perhaps Bongripper), it drawls on while Ajomo’s vocals take the stage in tortured shouts and Männikkö’s slightly off-kilter rhythms add a dimension of intrigue to the proceeds. Contrary to Dark Buddha Rising’s winning formula of drums carrying the drone, Entheomorphosis finds the drums carrying on a manic ritualistic energy almost despite the droning riffs, reminding me of early Sumac’s work. This clash is a bit jarring but intriguing, as longer passages avoid stagnation thanks to these odd collisions. The moods invoked are vast, settling upon anticipation’s startling brightness (“Alkiema”) and dread’s heavy weight (“Iätön”).

Getting away from the traditional drone template, the meat of Pyhä Kuilu offers respite in unexpected ways for Entheomorphosis. From the minimalist creeping of blackened shrieks atop chaotic drumming, thunderous bass, and synthesizer (“Sikinä”) to a crystalline and pulsing synth foray (“Huntu”), the centerpieces recall a more liturgical and shamanistic Primitive Man in its unforgiving noise and injection of chaos among the more regal movements of straightforward drone. They nonetheless beg the question as to why two comparatively brief respites are tied together as such when they are just different enough to be confusing and just similar enough to sound the same. The vocals are likewise a bit of a conundrum with Entheomorphosis, especially in comparison to its parent project. Dark Buddha Rising benefited from the choir of insanity of its three voices, but Ajomo’s nasally shouts seem to clash with the surrounding bleak obscurity, working most effectively with the blackened shrieks in “Sikinä.” The vocals are not the main focus, but they do distract at best, derail at worst, when they appear.

Entheomorphosis soars in being a worthy spiritual successor to Dark Buddha Rising, even if its pedigree cannot hold up. It’s a dark drone sound that you’ve come to know and love, but simultaneously more accessible and more experimental. Pyhä Kuilu feels more liturgical and less hypnotic, and its chemistry between drums and riff is endlessly intriguing. It may not achieve transcendence of its actors’ other projects, but for fans of drone, Entheomorphosis is a tour de force of holiness and devastation. While a nice bit of escapism, I’m banking on a more complete spiritual awakening next time.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Svart Records
Websites: entheomorphosis.bandcamp.com | entheomorphosis.com
Releases Worldwide: May 23rd, 2025

#2025 #30 #Alitila #AvantGardeMetal #Bongripper #DarkBuddhaRising #DoomMetal #DroneMetal #Earth #Enphin #Entheomorphosis #FinnishMetal #Gangrened #Ludalloy #May25 #MrPeterHayden #PH #PrimitiveMan #PyhäKuilu #Review #Reviews #Sumac #SunnO_ #SvartRecords #Vallihauta

Entheomorphosis – Pyhä Kuilu Review

By Dear Hollow

If I’ve learned anything from Dark Buddha Rising, it’s that drone metal goes hand-in-hand with spiritual awakening. The blinding light of transcendence and the shadows of the occult are parts of the same jagged landscape of existence, and the abyss rules beneath, embodying both creation and destruction. Gentle and ruthless in equal measure, drone metal’s tides of mountainous riffs and thunderous tones offer the secrets of the universe and the nonexistence that perpetually threatens every fiber. Dark Buddha Rising exemplified this in its Buddhism-influenced aesthetic tied to hypnotic and ritualist drone, pulsing percussion, and a flurry of vocal attacks to conjure and invoke a dark trance. With their ongoing hiatus, Entheomorphosis takes up the mantle.

Appropriately, Entheomorphosis is the spiritual successor of Dark Buddha Rising, taking its namesake after its 2009 album of the same name, its primary architect being former guitarist/vocalist Vesa Ajomo. A quartet, other members include Mr. Peter Hayden/PH/Enphin alum Lauri Kivelä (also of Alitila) on bass and JP Koivisto (also of Vallihauta) on guitar, as well as Lassi Männikkö of Gangrened and Ludalloy behind the kit. While Dark Buddha Rising offered a surprisingly nimble and balanced approach to drone in energetic percussion and obscure vocal approaches, Entheomorphosis embraces the sprawl and a more predictable vocal dimension, alongside a much more erratic percussion presence. Debut Pyhä Kuilu (“holy abyss” in Finnish) embraces the spiritual awakening of shedding old skin with shuddering tone abuse and glacial crawls in its favor, even if it pales in comparison to its mother act.

Entheomorphosis does a great job of compacting drone metal’s most trademark features in a tidy thirty-five-minute runtime, thanks to concise songwriting. It features four tracks, with the bookends comprising the main movements (“Alkiema,” “Iätön”). These are the transcended Arhats in a drone metal fan’s nirvana: droning riffs, tortured vocals, and breathless patience. Conjuring the Sabbath-worshipping likes more of Earth than Sunn O))) in its slightly orange and hazy tone (perhaps Bongripper), it drawls on while Ajomo’s vocals take the stage in tortured shouts and Männikkö’s slightly off-kilter rhythms add a dimension of intrigue to the proceeds. Contrary to Dark Buddha Rising’s winning formula of drums carrying the drone, Entheomorphosis finds the drums carrying on a manic ritualistic energy almost despite the droning riffs, reminding me of early Sumac’s work. This clash is a bit jarring but intriguing, as longer passages avoid stagnation thanks to these odd collisions. The moods invoked are vast, settling upon anticipation’s startling brightness (“Alkiema”) and dread’s heavy weight (“Iätön”).

Getting away from the traditional drone template, the meat of Pyhä Kuilu offers respite in unexpected ways for Entheomorphosis. From the minimalist creeping of blackened shrieks atop chaotic drumming, thunderous bass, and synthesizer (“Sikinä”) to a crystalline and pulsing synth foray (“Huntu”), the centerpieces recall a more liturgical and shamanistic Primitive Man in its unforgiving noise and injection of chaos among the more regal movements of straightforward drone. They nonetheless beg the question as to why two comparatively brief respites are tied together as such when they are just different enough to be confusing and just similar enough to sound the same. The vocals are likewise a bit of a conundrum with Entheomorphosis, especially in comparison to its parent project. Dark Buddha Rising benefited from the choir of insanity of its three voices, but Ajomo’s nasally shouts seem to clash with the surrounding bleak obscurity, working most effectively with the blackened shrieks in “Sikinä.” The vocals are not the main focus, but they do distract at best, derail at worst, when they appear.

Entheomorphosis soars in being a worthy spiritual successor to Dark Buddha Rising, even if its pedigree cannot hold up. It’s a dark drone sound that you’ve come to know and love, but simultaneously more accessible and more experimental. Pyhä Kuilu feels more liturgical and less hypnotic, and its chemistry between drums and riff is endlessly intriguing. It may not achieve transcendence of its actors’ other projects, but for fans of drone, Entheomorphosis is a tour de force of holiness and devastation. While a nice bit of escapism, I’m banking on a more complete spiritual awakening next time.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Svart Records
Websites: entheomorphosis.bandcamp.com | entheomorphosis.com
Releases Worldwide: May 23rd, 2025

#2025 #30 #Alitila #AvantGardeMetal #Bongripper #DarkBuddhaRising #DoomMetal #DroneMetal #Earth #Enphin #Entheomorphosis #FinnishMetal #Gangrened #Ludalloy #May25 #MrPeterHayden #PH #PrimitiveMan #PyhäKuilu #Review #Reviews #Sumac #SunnO_ #SvartRecords #Vallihauta

Entheomorphosis – Pyhä Kuilu Review

By Dear Hollow

If I’ve learned anything from Dark Buddha Rising, it’s that drone metal goes hand-in-hand with spiritual awakening. The blinding light of transcendence and the shadows of the occult are parts of the same jagged landscape of existence, and the abyss rules beneath, embodying both creation and destruction. Gentle and ruthless in equal measure, drone metal’s tides of mountainous riffs and thunderous tones offer the secrets of the universe and the nonexistence that perpetually threatens every fiber. Dark Buddha Rising exemplified this in its Buddhism-influenced aesthetic tied to hypnotic and ritualist drone, pulsing percussion, and a flurry of vocal attacks to conjure and invoke a dark trance. With their ongoing hiatus, Entheomorphosis takes up the mantle.

Appropriately, Entheomorphosis is the spiritual successor of Dark Buddha Rising, taking its namesake after its 2009 album of the same name, its primary architect being former guitarist/vocalist Vesa Ajomo. A quartet, other members include Mr. Peter Hayden/PH/Enphin alum Lauri Kivelä (also of Alitila) on bass and JP Koivisto (also of Vallihauta) on guitar, as well as Lassi Männikkö of Gangrened and Ludalloy behind the kit. While Dark Buddha Rising offered a surprisingly nimble and balanced approach to drone in energetic percussion and obscure vocal approaches, Entheomorphosis embraces the sprawl and a more predictable vocal dimension, alongside a much more erratic percussion presence. Debut Pyhä Kuilu (“holy abyss” in Finnish) embraces the spiritual awakening of shedding old skin with shuddering tone abuse and glacial crawls in its favor, even if it pales in comparison to its mother act.

Entheomorphosis does a great job of compacting drone metal’s most trademark features in a tidy thirty-five-minute runtime, thanks to concise songwriting. It features four tracks, with the bookends comprising the main movements (“Alkiema,” “Iätön”). These are the transcended Arhats in a drone metal fan’s nirvana: droning riffs, tortured vocals, and breathless patience. Conjuring the Sabbath-worshipping likes more of Earth than Sunn O))) in its slightly orange and hazy tone (perhaps Bongripper), it drawls on while Ajomo’s vocals take the stage in tortured shouts and Männikkö’s slightly off-kilter rhythms add a dimension of intrigue to the proceeds. Contrary to Dark Buddha Rising’s winning formula of drums carrying the drone, Entheomorphosis finds the drums carrying on a manic ritualistic energy almost despite the droning riffs, reminding me of early Sumac’s work. This clash is a bit jarring but intriguing, as longer passages avoid stagnation thanks to these odd collisions. The moods invoked are vast, settling upon anticipation’s startling brightness (“Alkiema”) and dread’s heavy weight (“Iätön”).

Getting away from the traditional drone template, the meat of Pyhä Kuilu offers respite in unexpected ways for Entheomorphosis. From the minimalist creeping of blackened shrieks atop chaotic drumming, thunderous bass, and synthesizer (“Sikinä”) to a crystalline and pulsing synth foray (“Huntu”), the centerpieces recall a more liturgical and shamanistic Primitive Man in its unforgiving noise and injection of chaos among the more regal movements of straightforward drone. They nonetheless beg the question as to why two comparatively brief respites are tied together as such when they are just different enough to be confusing and just similar enough to sound the same. The vocals are likewise a bit of a conundrum with Entheomorphosis, especially in comparison to its parent project. Dark Buddha Rising benefited from the choir of insanity of its three voices, but Ajomo’s nasally shouts seem to clash with the surrounding bleak obscurity, working most effectively with the blackened shrieks in “Sikinä.” The vocals are not the main focus, but they do distract at best, derail at worst, when they appear.

Entheomorphosis soars in being a worthy spiritual successor to Dark Buddha Rising, even if its pedigree cannot hold up. It’s a dark drone sound that you’ve come to know and love, but simultaneously more accessible and more experimental. Pyhä Kuilu feels more liturgical and less hypnotic, and its chemistry between drums and riff is endlessly intriguing. It may not achieve transcendence of its actors’ other projects, but for fans of drone, Entheomorphosis is a tour de force of holiness and devastation. While a nice bit of escapism, I’m banking on a more complete spiritual awakening next time.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Svart Records
Websites: entheomorphosis.bandcamp.com | entheomorphosis.com
Releases Worldwide: May 23rd, 2025

#2025 #30 #Alitila #AvantGardeMetal #Bongripper #DarkBuddhaRising #DoomMetal #DroneMetal #Earth #Enphin #Entheomorphosis #FinnishMetal #Gangrened #Ludalloy #May25 #MrPeterHayden #PH #PrimitiveMan #PyhäKuilu #Review #Reviews #Sumac #SunnO_ #SvartRecords #Vallihauta

Entheomorphosis – Pyhä Kuilu Review

By Dear Hollow

If I’ve learned anything from Dark Buddha Rising, it’s that drone metal goes hand-in-hand with spiritual awakening. The blinding light of transcendence and the shadows of the occult are parts of the same jagged landscape of existence, and the abyss rules beneath, embodying both creation and destruction. Gentle and ruthless in equal measure, drone metal’s tides of mountainous riffs and thunderous tones offer the secrets of the universe and the nonexistence that perpetually threatens every fiber. Dark Buddha Rising exemplified this in its Buddhism-influenced aesthetic tied to hypnotic and ritualist drone, pulsing percussion, and a flurry of vocal attacks to conjure and invoke a dark trance. With their ongoing hiatus, Entheomorphosis takes up the mantle.

Appropriately, Entheomorphosis is the spiritual successor of Dark Buddha Rising, taking its namesake after its 2009 album of the same name, its primary architect being former guitarist/vocalist Vesa Ajomo. A quartet, other members include Mr. Peter Hayden/PH/Enphin alum Lauri Kivelä (also of Alitila) on bass and JP Koivisto (also of Vallihauta) on guitar, as well as Lassi Männikkö of Gangrened and Ludalloy behind the kit. While Dark Buddha Rising offered a surprisingly nimble and balanced approach to drone in energetic percussion and obscure vocal approaches, Entheomorphosis embraces the sprawl and a more predictable vocal dimension, alongside a much more erratic percussion presence. Debut Pyhä Kuilu (“holy abyss” in Finnish) embraces the spiritual awakening of shedding old skin with shuddering tone abuse and glacial crawls in its favor, even if it pales in comparison to its mother act.

Entheomorphosis does a great job of compacting drone metal’s most trademark features in a tidy thirty-five-minute runtime, thanks to concise songwriting. It features four tracks, with the bookends comprising the main movements (“Alkiema,” “Iätön”). These are the transcended Arhats in a drone metal fan’s nirvana: droning riffs, tortured vocals, and breathless patience. Conjuring the Sabbath-worshipping likes more of Earth than Sunn O))) in its slightly orange and hazy tone (perhaps Bongripper), it drawls on while Ajomo’s vocals take the stage in tortured shouts and Männikkö’s slightly off-kilter rhythms add a dimension of intrigue to the proceeds. Contrary to Dark Buddha Rising’s winning formula of drums carrying the drone, Entheomorphosis finds the drums carrying on a manic ritualistic energy almost despite the droning riffs, reminding me of early Sumac’s work. This clash is a bit jarring but intriguing, as longer passages avoid stagnation thanks to these odd collisions. The moods invoked are vast, settling upon anticipation’s startling brightness (“Alkiema”) and dread’s heavy weight (“Iätön”).

Getting away from the traditional drone template, the meat of Pyhä Kuilu offers respite in unexpected ways for Entheomorphosis. From the minimalist creeping of blackened shrieks atop chaotic drumming, thunderous bass, and synthesizer (“Sikinä”) to a crystalline and pulsing synth foray (“Huntu”), the centerpieces recall a more liturgical and shamanistic Primitive Man in its unforgiving noise and injection of chaos among the more regal movements of straightforward drone. They nonetheless beg the question as to why two comparatively brief respites are tied together as such when they are just different enough to be confusing and just similar enough to sound the same. The vocals are likewise a bit of a conundrum with Entheomorphosis, especially in comparison to its parent project. Dark Buddha Rising benefited from the choir of insanity of its three voices, but Ajomo’s nasally shouts seem to clash with the surrounding bleak obscurity, working most effectively with the blackened shrieks in “Sikinä.” The vocals are not the main focus, but they do distract at best, derail at worst, when they appear.

Entheomorphosis soars in being a worthy spiritual successor to Dark Buddha Rising, even if its pedigree cannot hold up. It’s a dark drone sound that you’ve come to know and love, but simultaneously more accessible and more experimental. Pyhä Kuilu feels more liturgical and less hypnotic, and its chemistry between drums and riff is endlessly intriguing. It may not achieve transcendence of its actors’ other projects, but for fans of drone, Entheomorphosis is a tour de force of holiness and devastation. While a nice bit of escapism, I’m banking on a more complete spiritual awakening next time.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Svart Records
Websites: entheomorphosis.bandcamp.com | entheomorphosis.com
Releases Worldwide: May 23rd, 2025

#2025 #30 #Alitila #AvantGardeMetal #Bongripper #DarkBuddhaRising #DoomMetal #DroneMetal #Earth #Enphin #Entheomorphosis #FinnishMetal #Gangrened #Ludalloy #May25 #MrPeterHayden #PH #PrimitiveMan #PyhäKuilu #Review #Reviews #Sumac #SunnO_ #SvartRecords #Vallihauta

Oscillotron – Oblivion Review

By Dear Hollow

Look, Dave. Buddy. Pal. I love drone, but you’re making it really difficult. When I sat and listened to Sunn O))) for like an hour and a half, my colleagues mocked me. They said, “Wow Dear Hollow, doing laundry at work, huh?” before laughing and gorilla-hooting in my face all the way back to the Fvneral Fvkk cvbicle. I persisted, even when Steel Druhm played screaming rooster videos while I played Nadja’s Radiance of Shadows and I thought it was the advent of vocals I had missed before—I even spilled my coffee. But even then, I turned the other cheek. I persisted. Even when Dr. A.N. Grier called me an idiot as loudly as possible to drown out Horseback, making him sound like the deranged lap-steel-abusing cowpoke I know he is. My point is: Dave, my man, you gotta help me out here.

Oscillotron is a project of David Johansson, frontman of Steel Druhm–gorilla-themed Swedish doom rock act Kongh, and live guitarist for Cult of Luna since 2013. If you’re hoping that Oscillotron incorporates any of that shit, aside from thick-as-booty-cheeks heavy, you’ll be sorely disappointed. Oblivion is Johansson’s first offering under the moniker in eight years, promising more drone-influenced sprawls than the atmospheric doom and electronic emphases of 2016’s Cataclysm or 2012’s Eclipse. In this way, Oblivion lives up to its name—mightily. Your ears will be greeted by an hour-long track composed of an unceasing wall of noise made of droning guitars and Moog synthesizers. Without a serious pair of headphones or an ounce of masochism, Oscillotron will offer you the album to drift off to. It’s about as exciting as you can imagine.

Oscillotron is meticulous in its sound design, with each layer of density and shuddering radiant carefully constructed and included. In true drone spirit, Oblivion’s spotlight is on the heft. Oscillotron offers no vocals or percussion and no chord progressions in a stark (and tragic) departure from their Sunny genremates. It’s one sprawling and unmoving beast whose only sign of life is some periodic strumming movement, the electronic warbles and beeps from the synth, or the gradual collapse of the wall somewhere near the forty-five-minute mark. Johansson steers away from the Sabbathian orange fuzz of Earth, the dynamics of early Boris, and the evocative movements of Nadja. It’s truly Oblivion, an emptiness that envelopes the ears in encompassing saturation of total emptiness. It’s almost astounding, as repeated listens grant layers of noise peeled back with each iteration, a trip to the void that feels ruinously apathetic and aphotic. It will drive you mad, for better or for worse.

Perhaps most obviously, Oscillotron is drone—stubbornly more-vacant-than-usual-drone—for a whole fuckin’ hour with nothing going for it. Good drone is meant to swallow you whole, but Oblivion is so devoted to expansion that it neglects any form of accessibility or, dare I say music. Distortion is front and center, and for funsies you can sing along by humming the same note for a whole fucking hour. As such, there is no direction or defined purpose, no beginning, middle, or conclusion, aside from the shuddering density. Oblivion cannot stand on its own, as there isn’t even a lead-in or a fade-out—it just starts abruptly and ends abruptly. I can admire Oscillotron’s motives to create something rawer and more visceral than the cinematic facades constructed in years past, but to turn away from the very basics of music into truly a sprawling static stand-still of noise? That is truly puzzling.

I will use Oscillotron’s breed of noise-mongering as background noise for reading or sleep aid, but Oblivion is minimalist decadence for absolutely no one’s benefit. It lacks basic musical wherewithal and earns its status as “just noise.” Yeah, I love drone, but I also like drone to feel a bit more like, I don’t know, music? I can see its uses and get lost in the labyrinth where all walls look the same, but Dave, my guy, I’m gonna be made the laughingstock of AMG HQ if you keep this up. At least put in a couple more chords, a sustained high note, drums, vocals—something. If not, the ADHD Metal Guy, Second Most High Gorilla, Idiotic Cowpoke Grier, and the other Fvneral Fvkking bastards are coming for me. For my sake. Be a friend. Please.

Rating: 1.0/5.0
DR: 3 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-Released
Website: oscillotron.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/oscillotron
Releases Worldwide: September 20th, 2024

#10 #2024 #AmbientNoise #BlackSabbath #Boris #CultOfLuna #DoomMetal #Drone #DroneMetal #Earth #Horseback #Kongh #Nadja #Noise #Obligion #Oscillotron #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sep24 #SunnO_ #SwedishMetal

Oscillotron – Oblivion Review

By Dear Hollow

Look, Dave. Buddy. Pal. I love drone, but you’re making it really difficult. When I sat and listened to Sunn O))) for like an hour and a half, my colleagues mocked me. They said, “Wow Dear Hollow, doing laundry at work, huh?” before laughing and gorilla-hooting in my face all the way back to the Fvneral Fvkk cvbicle. I persisted, even when Steel Druhm played screaming rooster videos while I played Nadja’s Radiance of Shadows and I thought it was the advent of vocals I had missed before—I even spilled my coffee. But even then, I turned the other cheek. I persisted. Even when Dr. A.N. Grier called me an idiot as loudly as possible to drown out Horseback, making him sound like the deranged lap-steel-abusing cowpoke I know he is. My point is: Dave, my man, you gotta help me out here.

Oscillotron is a project of David Johansson, frontman of Steel Druhm–gorilla-themed Swedish doom rock act Kongh, and live guitarist for Cult of Luna since 2013. If you’re hoping that Oscillotron incorporates any of that shit, aside from thick-as-booty-cheeks heavy, you’ll be sorely disappointed. Oblivion is Johansson’s first offering under the moniker in eight years, promising more drone-influenced sprawls than the atmospheric doom and electronic emphases of 2016’s Cataclysm or 2012’s Eclipse. In this way, Oblivion lives up to its name—mightily. Your ears will be greeted by an hour-long track composed of an unceasing wall of noise made of droning guitars and Moog synthesizers. Without a serious pair of headphones or an ounce of masochism, Oscillotron will offer you the album to drift off to. It’s about as exciting as you can imagine.

Oscillotron is meticulous in its sound design, with each layer of density and shuddering radiant carefully constructed and included. In true drone spirit, Oblivion’s spotlight is on the heft. Oscillotron offers no vocals or percussion and no chord progressions in a stark (and tragic) departure from their Sunny genremates. It’s one sprawling and unmoving beast whose only sign of life is some periodic strumming movement, the electronic warbles and beeps from the synth, or the gradual collapse of the wall somewhere near the forty-five-minute mark. Johansson steers away from the Sabbathian orange fuzz of Earth, the dynamics of early Boris, and the evocative movements of Nadja. It’s truly Oblivion, an emptiness that envelopes the ears in encompassing saturation of total emptiness. It’s almost astounding, as repeated listens grant layers of noise peeled back with each iteration, a trip to the void that feels ruinously apathetic and aphotic. It will drive you mad, for better or for worse.

Perhaps most obviously, Oscillotron is drone—stubbornly more-vacant-than-usual-drone—for a whole fuckin’ hour with nothing going for it. Good drone is meant to swallow you whole, but Oblivion is so devoted to expansion that it neglects any form of accessibility or, dare I say music. Distortion is front and center, and for funsies you can sing along by humming the same note for a whole fucking hour. As such, there is no direction or defined purpose, no beginning, middle, or conclusion, aside from the shuddering density. Oblivion cannot stand on its own, as there isn’t even a lead-in or a fade-out—it just starts abruptly and ends abruptly. I can admire Oscillotron’s motives to create something rawer and more visceral than the cinematic facades constructed in years past, but to turn away from the very basics of music into truly a sprawling static stand-still of noise? That is truly puzzling.

I will use Oscillotron’s breed of noise-mongering as background noise for reading or sleep aid, but Oblivion is minimalist decadence for absolutely no one’s benefit. It lacks basic musical wherewithal and earns its status as “just noise.” Yeah, I love drone, but I also like drone to feel a bit more like, I don’t know, music? I can see its uses and get lost in the labyrinth where all walls look the same, but Dave, my guy, I’m gonna be made the laughingstock of AMG HQ if you keep this up. At least put in a couple more chords, a sustained high note, drums, vocals—something. If not, the ADHD Metal Guy, Second Most High Gorilla, Idiotic Cowpoke Grier, and the other Fvneral Fvkking bastards are coming for me. For my sake. Be a friend. Please.

Rating: 1.0/5.0
DR: 3 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-Released
Website: oscillotron.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/oscillotron
Releases Worldwide: September 20th, 2024

#10 #2024 #AmbientNoise #BlackSabbath #Boris #CultOfLuna #DoomMetal #Drone #DroneMetal #Earth #Horseback #Kongh #Nadja #Noise #Obligion #Oscillotron #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sep24 #SunnO_ #SwedishMetal

Oscillotron – Oblivion Review

By Dear Hollow

Look, Dave. Buddy. Pal. I love drone, but you’re making it really difficult. When I sat and listened to Sunn O))) for like an hour and a half, my colleagues mocked me. They said, “Wow Dear Hollow, doing laundry at work, huh?” before laughing and gorilla-hooting in my face all the way back to the Fvneral Fvkk cvbicle. I persisted, even when Steel Druhm played screaming rooster videos while I played Nadja’s Radiance of Shadows and I thought it was the advent of vocals I had missed before—I even spilled my coffee. But even then, I turned the other cheek. I persisted. Even when Dr. A.N. Grier called me an idiot as loudly as possible to drown out Horseback, making him sound like the deranged lap-steel-abusing cowpoke I know he is. My point is: Dave, my man, you gotta help me out here.

Oscillotron is a project of David Johansson, frontman of Steel Druhm–gorilla-themed Swedish doom rock act Kongh, and live guitarist for Cult of Luna since 2013. If you’re hoping that Oscillotron incorporates any of that shit, aside from thick-as-booty-cheeks heavy, you’ll be sorely disappointed. Oblivion is Johansson’s first offering under the moniker in eight years, promising more drone-influenced sprawls than the atmospheric doom and electronic emphases of 2016’s Cataclysm or 2012’s Eclipse. In this way, Oblivion lives up to its name—mightily. Your ears will be greeted by an hour-long track composed of an unceasing wall of noise made of droning guitars and Moog synthesizers. Without a serious pair of headphones or an ounce of masochism, Oscillotron will offer you the album to drift off to. It’s about as exciting as you can imagine.

Oscillotron is meticulous in its sound design, with each layer of density and shuddering radiant carefully constructed and included. In true drone spirit, Oblivion’s spotlight is on the heft. Oscillotron offers no vocals or percussion and no chord progressions in a stark (and tragic) departure from their Sunny genremates. It’s one sprawling and unmoving beast whose only sign of life is some periodic strumming movement, the electronic warbles and beeps from the synth, or the gradual collapse of the wall somewhere near the forty-five-minute mark. Johansson steers away from the Sabbathian orange fuzz of Earth, the dynamics of early Boris, and the evocative movements of Nadja. It’s truly Oblivion, an emptiness that envelopes the ears in encompassing saturation of total emptiness. It’s almost astounding, as repeated listens grant layers of noise peeled back with each iteration, a trip to the void that feels ruinously apathetic and aphotic. It will drive you mad, for better or for worse.

Perhaps most obviously, Oscillotron is drone—stubbornly more-vacant-than-usual-drone—for a whole fuckin’ hour with nothing going for it. Good drone is meant to swallow you whole, but Oblivion is so devoted to expansion that it neglects any form of accessibility or, dare I say music. Distortion is front and center, and for funsies you can sing along by humming the same note for a whole fucking hour. As such, there is no direction or defined purpose, no beginning, middle, or conclusion, aside from the shuddering density. Oblivion cannot stand on its own, as there isn’t even a lead-in or a fade-out—it just starts abruptly and ends abruptly. I can admire Oscillotron’s motives to create something rawer and more visceral than the cinematic facades constructed in years past, but to turn away from the very basics of music into truly a sprawling static stand-still of noise? That is truly puzzling.

I will use Oscillotron’s breed of noise-mongering as background noise for reading or sleep aid, but Oblivion is minimalist decadence for absolutely no one’s benefit. It lacks basic musical wherewithal and earns its status as “just noise.” Yeah, I love drone, but I also like drone to feel a bit more like, I don’t know, music? I can see its uses and get lost in the labyrinth where all walls look the same, but Dave, my guy, I’m gonna be made the laughingstock of AMG HQ if you keep this up. At least put in a couple more chords, a sustained high note, drums, vocals—something. If not, the ADHD Metal Guy, Second Most High Gorilla, Idiotic Cowpoke Grier, and the other Fvneral Fvkking bastards are coming for me. For my sake. Be a friend. Please.

Rating: 1.0/5.0
DR: 3 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-Released
Website: oscillotron.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/oscillotron
Releases Worldwide: September 20th, 2024

#10 #2024 #AmbientNoise #BlackSabbath #Boris #CultOfLuna #DoomMetal #Drone #DroneMetal #Earth #Horseback #Kongh #Nadja #Noise #Obligion #Oscillotron #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sep24 #SunnO_ #SwedishMetal

Megaton Leviathan – Magick Helmet Review

By Dear Hollow

Look, I love drone. I love getting lost in the swaths of noise and soundscapes that pervade its classics, as albums like Earth’s Earth 2, Sunn O)))’s Black One, and Boris’ Flood offer otherworldly and mammoth wilderness to explore. Riffs don’t offer adrenaline, but mountains instead, while vocals and percussion, if there are any, are the last semblance of humanity amid the utter saturation of sound. Its utter overwhelm of sound makes it controversial, its void of relatability offers little reprieve, and its slow depiction of devastation is hypnotic. All that to say, while I was maybe hoping for the next Holy Fawn with Megaton Leviathan’s talk of shoegaze, drone, and doom, I don’t know what the fuck to make of Magick Helmet.

While the gone-but-unforgotten Huck offered an optimistic 2.5 for the act’s third full-length 2018’s Mage, praising the song “Within the Threshold” for its ability to fuse sprawling drone with psychedelic soundscapes, things change in five years. Most notably, Megaton Leviathan is now a solo project of mastermind Andrew James Costa Reuscher (credited as Reuscher), responsible for every aspect of the hour-long monstrosity of Magick Helmet. As such, gone are the vocals and drone entirely in favor of an instrumental psychedelic rock session, comprised of fuzzed-out bass, wailing guitars, and pounding drums, attempting to channel “a maximum Doomgaze and minimalist approach embracing change and employing [Reuscher’s] love for things gritty, CVLT, and mind-altering.” It’s a minimalist approach to be sure, but the only thing conjured here is a maximalist headache.

Megaton Leviathan still manages to be drone, but to be frank, it’s in the bad way your parents describe your favorite music. Four tracks, over an hour long, with two tracks comprising over forty-six minutes of the runtime – it all sounds like something Sunn O))) would do. But if mammoth waves of drone is what you’re after, you will be sorely disappointed. Megaton Leviathan’s songwriting is comprised of a single fuzzed-out bassline and drum pattern that courses through the entirety of a song, while scathingly bright guitar wails comprise the melody. Magick Hammer is minimalist and rooted in vintage tones of psychedelic rock, which is Reuscher’s intention – I love that for him. Its only real highlight consists of centerpiece “The Belly of the Beast,” which departs the formula in favor of a Swans– or Merzbow-esque descent into noise and madness, which feels darker and more intense than anything Reuscher has accomplished. The flipside of this highlight, however, is that while Swans’ song “The Seer,” for instance, layered performances atop itself with an intense collusion of vocals, guitar, bass, drums, and noise, Megaton Leviathan’s noisy tendencies sound more like a new guitar player trying out a pedal at a Guitar Center – only guitar trilling away, feeling random and directionless.

The two sides of Magick Helmet are damning, because one sees the bass and drums locked into an unwavering and wearisome sequence, while the other is psychedelic upper fretboard brain-scorching randomness that is supposed to be the main attraction. While this certainly achieves a drug-fueled psychedelia, it also is derailed by a bad combination of boredom and tinnitus. The bulk of Magick Helmet consists of the aforementioned dully repeated basslines and scathing Jimi Hendrix-esque upper fretboard gymnastics interpretive dancing, making the nearly thirty-minute long “Helios Creed Magick Helmet” and openers “The Final Form of Nothing is Final” and its utterly unnecessary sequel “The Final Form of Nothing is Final (A Slight Reprise)” unbearable. While many more atmospheric or post-rock acts rely on a single motif to build a dynamic or crescendo upon, it is a building process. Megaton Leviathan’s is not: just repetition in hopes the guitar does the heavy lifting. Psychedelia is also a worthy aspiration, but other adjacent acts like Dark Buddha Rising or Space Coke do it better.

Megaton Leviathan talks a big game, with talk of “doomgaze” and “industrial drone” spilling out of previous releases. While often misguided, previous releases capitalized upon this ambition with sprawling compositions with many players’ formidable talents. While I understand the minimalist ambition, simple songwriting techniques need to be employed beyond “playing this shrill psychedelia until I get tired of it.” The Magick Helmet refers to the throbbing that covers my entire head upon listening, so maybe Megaton Leviathan should provide a dose of Tylenol with each purchase.

Rating: 1.0/5.0
DR: 61 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Volatile Rock Recordings
Websites: megatonleviathan.bandcamp.com | megatonleviathan.com | facebook.com/MegatonLeviathan
Releases Worldwide: December 8th, 2023

#10 #2023 #AmericanMetal #Boris #DarkBuddhaRising #Dec23 #DoomMetal #DroneMetal #Earth #MagickHelmet #MegatonLeviathan #Merzbow #Noise #Psychedelic #PsychedelicDoomMetal #PsychedelicRock #Review #Reviews #SpaceCoke #SunnO_ #Swans #VolatileRockRecordings

Megaton Leviathan – Magick Helmet Review

By Dear Hollow

Look, I love drone. I love getting lost in the swaths of noise and soundscapes that pervade its classics, as albums like Earth’s Earth 2, Sunn O)))’s Black One, and Boris’ Flood offer otherworldly and mammoth wilderness to explore. Riffs don’t offer adrenaline, but mountains instead, while vocals and percussion, if there are any, are the last semblance of humanity amid the utter saturation of sound. Its utter overwhelm of sound makes it controversial, its void of relatability offers little reprieve, and its slow depiction of devastation is hypnotic. All that to say, while I was maybe hoping for the next Holy Fawn with Megaton Leviathan’s talk of shoegaze, drone, and doom, I don’t know what the fuck to make of Magick Helmet.

While the gone-but-unforgotten Huck offered an optimistic 2.5 for the act’s third full-length 2018’s Mage, praising the song “Within the Threshold” for its ability to fuse sprawling drone with psychedelic soundscapes, things change in five years. Most notably, Megaton Leviathan is now a solo project of mastermind Andrew James Costa Reuscher (credited as Reuscher), responsible for every aspect of the hour-long monstrosity of Magick Helmet. As such, gone are the vocals and drone entirely in favor of an instrumental psychedelic rock session, comprised of fuzzed-out bass, wailing guitars, and pounding drums, attempting to channel “a maximum Doomgaze and minimalist approach embracing change and employing [Reuscher’s] love for things gritty, CVLT, and mind-altering.” It’s a minimalist approach to be sure, but the only thing conjured here is a maximalist headache.

Megaton Leviathan still manages to be drone, but to be frank, it’s in the bad way your parents describe your favorite music. Four tracks, over an hour long, with two tracks comprising over forty-six minutes of the runtime – it all sounds like something Sunn O))) would do. But if mammoth waves of drone is what you’re after, you will be sorely disappointed. Megaton Leviathan’s songwriting is comprised of a single fuzzed-out bassline and drum pattern that courses through the entirety of a song, while scathingly bright guitar wails comprise the melody. Magick Hammer is minimalist and rooted in vintage tones of psychedelic rock, which is Reuscher’s intention – I love that for him. Its only real highlight consists of centerpiece “The Belly of the Beast,” which departs the formula in favor of a Swans– or Merzbow-esque descent into noise and madness, which feels darker and more intense than anything Reuscher has accomplished. The flipside of this highlight, however, is that while Swans’ song “The Seer,” for instance, layered performances atop itself with an intense collusion of vocals, guitar, bass, drums, and noise, Megaton Leviathan’s noisy tendencies sound more like a new guitar player trying out a pedal at a Guitar Center – only guitar trilling away, feeling random and directionless.

The two sides of Magick Helmet are damning, because one sees the bass and drums locked into an unwavering and wearisome sequence, while the other is psychedelic upper fretboard brain-scorching randomness that is supposed to be the main attraction. While this certainly achieves a drug-fueled psychedelia, it also is derailed by a bad combination of boredom and tinnitus. The bulk of Magick Helmet consists of the aforementioned dully repeated basslines and scathing Jimi Hendrix-esque upper fretboard gymnastics interpretive dancing, making the nearly thirty-minute long “Helios Creed Magick Helmet” and openers “The Final Form of Nothing is Final” and its utterly unnecessary sequel “The Final Form of Nothing is Final (A Slight Reprise)” unbearable. While many more atmospheric or post-rock acts rely on a single motif to build a dynamic or crescendo upon, it is a building process. Megaton Leviathan’s is not: just repetition in hopes the guitar does the heavy lifting. Psychedelia is also a worthy aspiration, but other adjacent acts like Dark Buddha Rising or Space Coke do it better.

Megaton Leviathan talks a big game, with talk of “doomgaze” and “industrial drone” spilling out of previous releases. While often misguided, previous releases capitalized upon this ambition with sprawling compositions with many players’ formidable talents. While I understand the minimalist ambition, simple songwriting techniques need to be employed beyond “playing this shrill psychedelia until I get tired of it.” The Magick Helmet refers to the throbbing that covers my entire head upon listening, so maybe Megaton Leviathan should provide a dose of Tylenol with each purchase.

Rating: 1.0/5.0
DR: 61 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Volatile Rock Recordings
Websites: megatonleviathan.bandcamp.com | megatonleviathan.com | facebook.com/MegatonLeviathan
Releases Worldwide: December 8th, 2023

#10 #2023 #AmericanMetal #Boris #DarkBuddhaRising #Dec23 #DoomMetal #DroneMetal #Earth #MagickHelmet #MegatonLeviathan #Merzbow #Noise #Psychedelic #PsychedelicDoomMetal #PsychedelicRock #Review #Reviews #SpaceCoke #SunnO_ #Swans #VolatileRockRecordings