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https://www.europesays.com/ie/352581/ Cryptic Shift – Overspace & Supertime Review #2026 #45 #Atheist #CrypticShift #Cryptworm #Éire #EnglishMetal #Entertainment #Feb26 #FrankZappa #IE #Ireland #KingCrimson #MetalBladeRecords #Music #Overspace&Supertime #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #RiseAgainst #Slayer #TechnicalDeathMetal #ThrashMetal #Vektor

With the same swirling whammy lick opening “Moonbelt Immolator” gracing the opening minute of “Cryogenically Frozen,” Cryptic Shift have returned. Visitations from Enceladus was a monolithic record that rocked my world in 2020, taking me to the most vile reaches of the universe in a technical death/thrash expedition of cosmic horror. Six years later, the group from Leeds, UK aim to expand on their already expansive debut regarding both their sci-fi theming and musicality with their sophomore. They didn’t skimp out on us either: Overspace & Supertime is one track greater than Visitations and nearly twice as long, boasting two twenty-plus-minute epics.1 A feature film’s runtime of borderline avant-garde extreme metal is no small feat, but if designed and shaped with singular vision, patience and skill, then anything can happen. And in the strange aeons Cryptic Shift occupy, anything happens all the time.

An undertaking like Overspace & Supertime demands top-notch performances to survive: Cryptic Shift couldn’t have done much better. Keeping true to the mix of Atheistic death, Vektorian thrash, and King Crimsonian progressive sensibilities that made the debut a knockout, Cryptic Shift have opened another wormhole of technical death/thrash immensity. But if you’re imagining Visitations II: Eldritch Boogaloo, stop. Overspace takes what made Visitations great and kicks it into warp speed. The guitar duo of Xander Bradley and Joss Farrington (Cryptworm)2 tear through an embarrassment of mind-bending, neck-breaking riffs across Overspace, bending across their whole fretboards, soloing on “Stratocumulus Evergaol” and putting their entire asses behind the chugged-up “Hyperspace Topography.” Drummer Ryan Sheperson pummels his kit in time I can only guess at on “Overspace & Supertime” while bassist John Riley fretlessly glides over “Cryogenically Frozen” into solos traded off between the guitars, amounting to a finessed, yet relentless attack. Topped off with Bradley’s cavernous bellows, Overspace & Supertime is a tour de force of musical expertise.

Overspace & Supertime by Cryptic Shift

What carries Cryptic Shift’s longform songwriting is that their music is always in flux. Whenever the band seems lost in their own prog-sauce—like in the effect-heavy openings of “Hexagonal Eyes (Diverity Trepaphymphasyzm)” and “Cryogenically Frozen”—they always swing back with a bruiser riff that helps keep Overspace more approachable than it ought to be. Like on Visitations, Cryptic Shift employ clean guitar passages and eerie atmospheres to outline the heavy bits. But on Overspace, they are woven smoothly into the distorted parts to create dynamic passages, like the shimmering clean strums between monstrous death hits on “Stratocumulus Evergaol” or the blackened surf-rock tremolos of “Hyperspace Topography.” But Cryptic Shift’s greatest dynamic on Overspace is that of light vs. dark. While their debut was a pitch-black exploration of space-born horrors, Overspace injects a healthy dosage of awe into their mix, including strangely bright conclusions to “Cryogenically Frozen” and “Overspace & Supertime” and a passage at ~16 minutes into “Stratocumulus Evergaol” that’s so boppy that it could pass for Rise Against. It’s in the name: Cryptic Shift change in some strange ways over the course of Overspace & Supertime, and I’m here for it.

And this leads me to the true wonder of Overspace & Supertime and where its immensity is most benefited: the beauty of the off-kilter. This is an album of purely aggressive, dissonant, esoteric, and oddly-timed stuff; Cryptic Shift made no obvious move, and they’re clearly not gunning for radio play. So why is it so beautiful? Solos that effortlessly slide from Slayer-like chromatic bullshittery into soaring melodicism. Patient ambiances both tranquil and unsettling, belligerent thrashing as exhilarating as it is hostile. The brilliant production best described by Dolphin Whisperer as “tone porn,” where all cleans are crystalline, and everything dirty is disgusting. How easy it is to fall under Cryptic Shift’s spell and let the freeform journey take you on its many twists and turns. The fact that Overspace & Supertime gets weird and takes its precious time doing so allows the listener to immerse themselves in Cryptic Shift’s world, making for a simply sublime experience.

In retrospect, Visitations from Enceladus feels like Cryptic Shift’s proof-of-concept for Overspace & Supertime. Yes, this is an exhausting record. Trying to catch everything on it during your first listen could make you go blind. Maybe 80 minutes is too damn long. But Overspace & Supertime is a better record than my wildest expectations, six years in the making, ever dreamed up. Like Frank Zappa at his best, Cryptic Shift on Overspace left me frequently confused, sometimes just plain tickled, but never unmoved before their showcase of the bizarre and the otherwordly. In the stranger aeons Cryptic Shift occupy, anything has happened.

Rating: Excellent
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps MP3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: cryptic-shift.bandcamp | facebook.com/crypticshift
Releases Worldwide: February 27, 2026

With the same swirling whammy lick opening “Moonbelt Immolator” gracing the opening minute of “Cryogenically Frozen,” Cryptic Shift have returned. Visitations from Enceladus was a monolithic record that rocked my world in 2020, taking me to the most vile reaches of the universe in a technical death/thrash expedition of cosmic horror. Six years later, the group from Leeds, UK aim to expand on their already expansive debut regarding both their sci-fi theming and musicality with their sophomore. They didn’t skimp out on us either: Overspace & Supertime is one track greater than Visitations and nearly twice as long, boasting two twenty-plus-minute epics.1 A feature film’s runtime of borderline avant-garde extreme metal is no small feat, but if designed and shaped with singular vision, patience and skill, then anything can happen. And in the strange aeons Cryptic Shift occupy, anything happens all the time.

An undertaking like Overspace & Supertime demands top-notch performances to survive: Cryptic Shift couldn’t have done much better. Keeping true to the mix of Atheistic death, Vektorian thrash, and King Crimsonian progressive sensibilities that made the debut a knockout, Cryptic Shift have opened another wormhole of technical death/thrash immensity. But if you’re imagining Visitations II: Eldritch Boogaloo, stop. Overspace takes what made Visitations great and kicks it into warp speed. The guitar duo of Xander Bradley and Joss Farrington (Cryptworm)2 tear through an embarrassment of mind-bending, neck-breaking riffs across Overspace, bending across their whole fretboards, soloing on “Stratocumulus Evergaol” and putting their entire asses behind the chugged-up “Hyperspace Topography.” Drummer Ryan Sheperson pummels his kit in time I can only guess at on “Overspace & Supertime” while bassist John Riley fretlessly glides over “Cryogenically Frozen” into solos traded off between the guitars, amounting to a finessed, yet relentless attack. Topped off with Bradley’s cavernous bellows, Overspace & Supertime is a tour de force of musical expertise.

Overspace & Supertime by Cryptic Shift

What carries Cryptic Shift’s longform songwriting is that their music is always in flux. Whenever the band seems lost in their own prog-sauce—like in the effect-heavy openings of “Hexagonal Eyes (Diverity Trepaphymphasyzm)” and “Cryogenically Frozen”—they always swing back with a bruiser riff that helps keep Overspace more approachable than it ought to be. Like on Visitations, Cryptic Shift employ clean guitar passages and eerie atmospheres to outline the heavy bits. But on Overspace, they are woven smoothly into the distorted parts to create dynamic passages, like the shimmering clean strums between monstrous death hits on “Stratocumulus Evergaol” or the blackened surf-rock tremolos of “Hyperspace Topography.” But Cryptic Shift’s greatest dynamic on Overspace is that of light vs. dark. While their debut was a pitch-black exploration of space-born horrors, Overspace injects a healthy dosage of awe into their mix, including strangely bright conclusions to “Cryogenically Frozen” and “Overspace & Supertime” and a passage at ~16 minutes into “Stratocumulus Evergaol” that’s so boppy that it could pass for Rise Against. It’s in the name: Cryptic Shift change in some strange ways over the course of Overspace & Supertime, and I’m here for it.

And this leads me to the true wonder of Overspace & Supertime and where its immensity is most benefited: the beauty of the off-kilter. This is an album of purely aggressive, dissonant, esoteric, and oddly-timed stuff; Cryptic Shift made no obvious move, and they’re clearly not gunning for radio play. So why is it so beautiful? Solos that effortlessly slide from Slayer-like chromatic bullshittery into soaring melodicism. Patient ambiances both tranquil and unsettling, belligerent thrashing as exhilarating as it is hostile. The brilliant production best described by Dolphin Whisperer as “tone porn,” where all cleans are crystalline, and everything dirty is disgusting. How easy it is to fall under Cryptic Shift’s spell and let the freeform journey take you on its many twists and turns. The fact that Overspace & Supertime gets weird and takes its precious time doing so allows the listener to immerse themselves in Cryptic Shift’s world, making for a simply sublime experience.

In retrospect, Visitations from Enceladus feels like Cryptic Shift’s proof-of-concept for Overspace & Supertime. Yes, this is an exhausting record. Trying to catch everything on it during your first listen could make you go blind. Maybe 80 minutes is too damn long. But Overspace & Supertime is a better record than my wildest expectations, six years in the making, ever dreamed up. Like Frank Zappa at his best, Cryptic Shift on Overspace left me frequently confused, sometimes just plain tickled, but never unmoved before their showcase of the bizarre and the otherwordly. In the stranger aeons Cryptic Shift occupy, anything has happened.

Rating: Excellent
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps MP3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: cryptic-shift.bandcamp | facebook.com/crypticshift
Releases Worldwide: February 27, 2026

With the same swirling whammy lick opening “Moonbelt Immolator” gracing the opening minute of “Cryogenically Frozen,” Cryptic Shift have returned. Visitations from Enceladus was a monolithic record that rocked my world in 2020, taking me to the most vile reaches of the universe in a technical death/thrash expedition of cosmic horror. Six years later, the group from Leeds, UK aim to expand on their already expansive debut regarding both their sci-fi theming and musicality with their sophomore. They didn’t skimp out on us either: Overspace & Supertime is one track greater than Visitations and nearly twice as long, boasting two twenty-plus-minute epics.1 A feature film’s runtime of borderline avant-garde extreme metal is no small feat, but if designed and shaped with singular vision, patience and skill, then anything can happen. And in the strange aeons Cryptic Shift occupy, anything happens all the time.

An undertaking like Overspace & Supertime demands top-notch performances to survive: Cryptic Shift couldn’t have done much better. Keeping true to the mix of Atheistic death, Vektorian thrash, and King Crimsonian progressive sensibilities that made the debut a knockout, Cryptic Shift have opened another wormhole of technical death/thrash immensity. But if you’re imagining Visitations II: Eldritch Boogaloo, stop. Overspace takes what made Visitations great and kicks it into warp speed. The guitar duo of Xander Bradley and Joss Farrington (Cryptworm)2 tear through an embarrassment of mind-bending, neck-breaking riffs across Overspace, bending across their whole fretboards, soloing on “Stratocumulus Evergaol” and putting their entire asses behind the chugged-up “Hyperspace Topography.” Drummer Ryan Sheperson pummels his kit in time I can only guess at on “Overspace & Supertime” while bassist John Riley fretlessly glides over “Cryogenically Frozen” into solos traded off between the guitars, amounting to a finessed, yet relentless attack. Topped off with Bradley’s cavernous bellows, Overspace & Supertime is a tour de force of musical expertise.

Overspace & Supertime by Cryptic Shift

What carries Cryptic Shift’s longform songwriting is that their music is always in flux. Whenever the band seems lost in their own prog-sauce—like in the effect-heavy openings of “Hexagonal Eyes (Diverity Trepaphymphasyzm)” and “Cryogenically Frozen”—they always swing back with a bruiser riff that helps keep Overspace more approachable than it ought to be. Like on Visitations, Cryptic Shift employ clean guitar passages and eerie atmospheres to outline the heavy bits. But on Overspace, they are woven smoothly into the distorted parts to create dynamic passages, like the shimmering clean strums between monstrous death hits on “Stratocumulus Evergaol” or the blackened surf-rock tremolos of “Hyperspace Topography.” But Cryptic Shift’s greatest dynamic on Overspace is that of light vs. dark. While their debut was a pitch-black exploration of space-born horrors, Overspace injects a healthy dosage of awe into their mix, including strangely bright conclusions to “Cryogenically Frozen” and “Overspace & Supertime” and a passage at ~16 minutes into “Stratocumulus Evergaol” that’s so boppy that it could pass for Rise Against. It’s in the name: Cryptic Shift change in some strange ways over the course of Overspace & Supertime, and I’m here for it.

And this leads me to the true wonder of Overspace & Supertime and where its immensity is most benefited: the beauty of the off-kilter. This is an album of purely aggressive, dissonant, esoteric, and oddly-timed stuff; Cryptic Shift made no obvious move, and they’re clearly not gunning for radio play. So why is it so beautiful? Solos that effortlessly slide from Slayer-like chromatic bullshittery into soaring melodicism. Patient ambiances both tranquil and unsettling, belligerent thrashing as exhilarating as it is hostile. The brilliant production best described by Dolphin Whisperer as “tone porn,” where all cleans are crystalline, and everything dirty is disgusting. How easy it is to fall under Cryptic Shift’s spell and let the freeform journey take you on its many twists and turns. The fact that Overspace & Supertime gets weird and takes its precious time doing so allows the listener to immerse themselves in Cryptic Shift’s world, making for a simply sublime experience.

In retrospect, Visitations from Enceladus feels like Cryptic Shift’s proof-of-concept for Overspace & Supertime. Yes, this is an exhausting record. Trying to catch everything on it during your first listen could make you go blind. Maybe 80 minutes is too damn long. But Overspace & Supertime is a better record than my wildest expectations, six years in the making, ever dreamed up. Like Frank Zappa at his best, Cryptic Shift on Overspace left me frequently confused, sometimes just plain tickled, but never unmoved before their showcase of the bizarre and the otherwordly. In the stranger aeons Cryptic Shift occupy, anything has happened.

Rating: Excellent
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps MP3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: cryptic-shift.bandcamp | facebook.com/crypticshift
Releases Worldwide: February 27, 2026

With the same swirling whammy lick opening “Moonbelt Immolator” gracing the opening minute of “Cryogenically Frozen,” Cryptic Shift have returned. Visitations from Enceladus was a monolithic record that rocked my world in 2020, taking me to the most vile reaches of the universe in a technical death/thrash expedition of cosmic horror. Six years later, the group from Leeds, UK aim to expand on their already expansive debut regarding both their sci-fi theming and musicality with their sophomore. They didn’t skimp out on us either: Overspace & Supertime is one track greater than Visitations and nearly twice as long, boasting two twenty-plus-minute epics.1 A feature film’s runtime of borderline avant-garde extreme metal is no small feat, but if designed and shaped with singular vision, patience and skill, then anything can happen. And in the strange aeons Cryptic Shift occupy, anything happens all the time.

An undertaking like Overspace & Supertime demands top-notch performances to survive: Cryptic Shift couldn’t have done much better. Keeping true to the mix of Atheistic death, Vektorian thrash, and King Crimsonian progressive sensibilities that made the debut a knockout, Cryptic Shift have opened another wormhole of technical death/thrash immensity. But if you’re imagining Visitations II: Eldritch Boogaloo, stop. Overspace takes what made Visitations great and kicks it into warp speed. The guitar duo of Xander Bradley and Joss Farrington (Cryptworm)2 tear through an embarrassment of mind-bending, neck-breaking riffs across Overspace, bending across their whole fretboards, soloing on “Stratocumulus Evergaol” and putting their entire asses behind the chugged-up “Hyperspace Topography.” Drummer Ryan Sheperson pummels his kit in time I can only guess at on “Overspace & Supertime” while bassist John Riley fretlessly glides over “Cryogenically Frozen” into solos traded off between the guitars, amounting to a finessed, yet relentless attack. Topped off with Bradley’s cavernous bellows, Overspace & Supertime is a tour de force of musical expertise.

Overspace & Supertime by Cryptic Shift

What carries Cryptic Shift’s longform songwriting is that their music is always in flux. Whenever the band seems lost in their own prog-sauce—like in the effect-heavy openings of “Hexagonal Eyes (Diverity Trepaphymphasyzm)” and “Cryogenically Frozen”—they always swing back with a bruiser riff that helps keep Overspace more approachable than it ought to be. Like on Visitations, Cryptic Shift employ clean guitar passages and eerie atmospheres to outline the heavy bits. But on Overspace, they are woven smoothly into the distorted parts to create dynamic passages, like the shimmering clean strums between monstrous death hits on “Stratocumulus Evergaol” or the blackened surf-rock tremolos of “Hyperspace Topography.” But Cryptic Shift’s greatest dynamic on Overspace is that of light vs. dark. While their debut was a pitch-black exploration of space-born horrors, Overspace injects a healthy dosage of awe into their mix, including strangely bright conclusions to “Cryogenically Frozen” and “Overspace & Supertime” and a passage at ~16 minutes into “Stratocumulus Evergaol” that’s so boppy that it could pass for Rise Against. It’s in the name: Cryptic Shift change in some strange ways over the course of Overspace & Supertime, and I’m here for it.

And this leads me to the true wonder of Overspace & Supertime and where its immensity is most benefited: the beauty of the off-kilter. This is an album of purely aggressive, dissonant, esoteric, and oddly-timed stuff; Cryptic Shift made no obvious move, and they’re clearly not gunning for radio play. So why is it so beautiful? Solos that effortlessly slide from Slayer-like chromatic bullshittery into soaring melodicism. Patient ambiances both tranquil and unsettling, belligerent thrashing as exhilarating as it is hostile. The brilliant production best described by Dolphin Whisperer as “tone porn,” where all cleans are crystalline, and everything dirty is disgusting. How easy it is to fall under Cryptic Shift’s spell and let the freeform journey take you on its many twists and turns. The fact that Overspace & Supertime gets weird and takes its precious time doing so allows the listener to immerse themselves in Cryptic Shift’s world, making for a simply sublime experience.

In retrospect, Visitations from Enceladus feels like Cryptic Shift’s proof-of-concept for Overspace & Supertime. Yes, this is an exhausting record. Trying to catch everything on it during your first listen could make you go blind. Maybe 80 minutes is too damn long. But Overspace & Supertime is a better record than my wildest expectations, six years in the making, ever dreamed up. Like Frank Zappa at his best, Cryptic Shift on Overspace left me frequently confused, sometimes just plain tickled, but never unmoved before their showcase of the bizarre and the otherwordly. In the stranger aeons Cryptic Shift occupy, anything has happened.

Rating: Excellent
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps MP3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: cryptic-shift.bandcamp | facebook.com/crypticshift
Releases Worldwide: February 27, 2026

With the same swirling whammy lick opening “Moonbelt Immolator” gracing the opening minute of “Cryogenically Frozen,” Cryptic Shift have returned. Visitations from Enceladus was a monolithic record that rocked my world in 2020, taking me to the most vile reaches of the universe in a technical death/thrash expedition of cosmic horror. Six years later, the group from Leeds, UK aim to expand on their already expansive debut regarding both their sci-fi theming and musicality with their sophomore. They didn’t skimp out on us either: Overspace & Supertime is one track greater than Visitations and nearly twice as long, boasting two twenty-plus-minute epics.1 A feature film’s runtime of borderline avant-garde extreme metal is no small feat, but if designed and shaped with singular vision, patience and skill, then anything can happen. And in the strange aeons Cryptic Shift occupy, anything happens all the time.

An undertaking like Overspace & Supertime demands top-notch performances to survive: Cryptic Shift couldn’t have done much better. Keeping true to the mix of Atheistic death, Vektorian thrash, and King Crimsonian progressive sensibilities that made the debut a knockout, Cryptic Shift have opened another wormhole of technical death/thrash immensity. But if you’re imagining Visitations II: Eldritch Boogaloo, stop. Overspace takes what made Visitations great and kicks it into warp speed. The guitar duo of Xander Bradley and Joss Farrington (Cryptworm)2 tear through an embarrassment of mind-bending, neck-breaking riffs across Overspace, bending across their whole fretboards, soloing on “Stratocumulus Evergaol” and putting their entire asses behind the chugged-up “Hyperspace Topography.” Drummer Ryan Sheperson pummels his kit in time I can only guess at on “Overspace & Supertime” while bassist John Riley fretlessly glides over “Cryogenically Frozen” into solos traded off between the guitars, amounting to a finessed, yet relentless attack. Topped off with Bradley’s cavernous bellows, Overspace & Supertime is a tour de force of musical expertise.

Overspace & Supertime by Cryptic Shift

What carries Cryptic Shift’s longform songwriting is that their music is always in flux. Whenever the band seems lost in their own prog-sauce—like in the effect-heavy openings of “Hexagonal Eyes (Diverity Trepaphymphasyzm)” and “Cryogenically Frozen”—they always swing back with a bruiser riff that helps keep Overspace more approachable than it ought to be. Like on Visitations, Cryptic Shift employ clean guitar passages and eerie atmospheres to outline the heavy bits. But on Overspace, they are woven smoothly into the distorted parts to create dynamic passages, like the shimmering clean strums between monstrous death hits on “Stratocumulus Evergaol” or the blackened surf-rock tremolos of “Hyperspace Topography.” But Cryptic Shift’s greatest dynamic on Overspace is that of light vs. dark. While their debut was a pitch-black exploration of space-born horrors, Overspace injects a healthy dosage of awe into their mix, including strangely bright conclusions to “Cryogenically Frozen” and “Overspace & Supertime” and a passage at ~16 minutes into “Stratocumulus Evergaol” that’s so boppy that it could pass for Rise Against. It’s in the name: Cryptic Shift change in some strange ways over the course of Overspace & Supertime, and I’m here for it.

And this leads me to the true wonder of Overspace & Supertime and where its immensity is most benefited: the beauty of the off-kilter. This is an album of purely aggressive, dissonant, esoteric, and oddly-timed stuff; Cryptic Shift made no obvious move, and they’re clearly not gunning for radio play. So why is it so beautiful? Solos that effortlessly slide from Slayer-like chromatic bullshittery into soaring melodicism. Patient ambiances both tranquil and unsettling, belligerent thrashing as exhilarating as it is hostile. The brilliant production best described by Dolphin Whisperer as “tone porn,” where all cleans are crystalline, and everything dirty is disgusting. How easy it is to fall under Cryptic Shift’s spell and let the freeform journey take you on its many twists and turns. The fact that Overspace & Supertime gets weird and takes its precious time doing so allows the listener to immerse themselves in Cryptic Shift’s world, making for a simply sublime experience.

In retrospect, Visitations from Enceladus feels like Cryptic Shift’s proof-of-concept for Overspace & Supertime. Yes, this is an exhausting record. Trying to catch everything on it during your first listen could make you go blind. Maybe 80 minutes is too damn long. But Overspace & Supertime is a better record than my wildest expectations, six years in the making, ever dreamed up. Like Frank Zappa at his best, Cryptic Shift on Overspace left me frequently confused, sometimes just plain tickled, but never unmoved before their showcase of the bizarre and the otherwordly. In the stranger aeons Cryptic Shift occupy, anything has happened.

Rating: Excellent
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps MP3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: cryptic-shift.bandcamp | facebook.com/crypticshift
Releases Worldwide: February 27, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/uk/746492/ Tailgunner – Midnight Blitz Review #2026 #3.0 #Enforcer #EnglishMetal #Entertainment #Feb26 #GunsForHire #HeavyMetal #MidnightBlitz #music #NapalmRecords #PrimalFear #Review #Reviews #Tailgunner #UK #UnitedKingdom #wolf

https://www.europesays.com/ie/323509/ Tailgunner – Midnight Blitz Review #2026 #3.0 #Éire #Enforcer #EnglishMetal #Entertainment #Feb26 #GunsForHire #HeavyMetal #IE #Ireland #MidnightBlitz #Music #NapalmRecords #PrimalFear #Review #Reviews #Tailgunner #wolf

After staggering off four crazy days at sea for the 70000 Tons of Metal cruise, my ears and brain are fried unto merciless death. Luckily, I anticipated this contingency and left myself a fairly easy bounce-back to reality with the sophomore album from England’s classic metal rockers, Tailgunner. I was a fan of their 2023 Guns for Hire debut and found their modernized take on NWoBHM antics to be an entertaining ride. They slot into the same category as acts like Enforcer, Wolf, and Skullfist, and they have enough talent to sell traditional metal thrills like they’re something new. On Midnight Blitz, they rock a slightly more polished variant of what we heard last time with less of an obvious NWoBHM core, but their basic attack plan is still there. It’s all high-flying dual-guitar assaults, soaring vocals, and thundering drums, forced through an anthemic stadium-metal filter to create catchy, crunchy little metal nuggets ready to dip in shitty beer. It’s as cutting-edge and innovative as a stick, but sometimes brainless is better anyway. Now shut up and get in the gun seat!

Things open up effectively with the exuberant title track, which delivers all the classic metal goods and recalls Iron Maiden’s “Aces High” in subtle and unsubtle ways, especially in the lusty guitar noodling. The chorus is immediate and hooky and works as intended, and you will suffer involuntary fist-banging disorder as you prepare to strike at something at midnight. They manage to keep things in this winning window for much of the runtime with catchy tidbits like “Tears in the Rain,” which pays homage to the coolest lines from Blade Runner in appropriately big ways with a huge chorus, and the stupidly infectious “Dead Until Dark,” which rocks hard and rides free with a big Euro-power chorus that sticks like peanut butter mixed with Gorilla Glue. Some of the tracks punch above their weight and really win you over, like “Barren Lands and Seas of Red” and “Blood Sacrifice,” which thread that tiny needle between 80s metal and Euro-power to deliver hot guitar work and larger-than-life choruses.

Elsewhere, “Night Raids” reminds me of something off Human Fortress’s immortal Defenders of the Crown album, so that’s a win. Even the big, overwrought power ballad “War in Heaven” hits harder than you’d expect, sounding a bit like Primal Fear, though it does blunt the album’s momentum somewhat. Not every song is as clutch as the top dogs, and there is a minor bloat factor on a few songs, but no track feels like filler or an afterthought, and at 44 minutes, Midnight Blitz flies by like a gloaming onslaught. The production is a bit too clean, and I’d prefer more bite on the guitars, but you can hear everything the band does clearly.

Craig Cairns leads the air attack for Tailgunner, and he sounds more polished and professional here than he did on Guns for Hire. He no longer reminds me of Blaze Baley or Brian Ross of Satan, and his clear, commanding vocals skew more to a Euro-power style now, but there’s still enough grit to get the job done well. Much of the impact comes from guitarists Zach Salvini and Rhea Thompson. They rob the vaults of 80s metal wantonly while dabbling in various levels of Euro-cheese making, but never go too far down that rabbit hole to find the pirate shirts. There are ripping riffs, melodic harmonies, and overblown solos aplenty, and they keep the energy levels sky high for much of the runtime.

Midnight Blitz is a successful evolution of the Tailgunner sound. I might prefer the slightly more raucous sound of their debut, but what these cats do is still in the wheelhouse of Steel, and I eat it up like fruit leather and old Twinkies. If you like high-energy 80s metal designed to get the head nodding, Tailgunner is the caliber of act you should load up and blast. Fun will be had, and planes will be felled. It’s it’s a Midnight Blitz!



Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: Fucking Stream
Label: Napalm
Websites: tailgunner.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/tailgunnerhq | instagram.com/tailgunnerhq
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

After staggering off four crazy days at sea for the 70000 Tons of Metal cruise, my ears and brain are fried unto merciless death. Luckily, I anticipated this contingency and left myself a fairly easy bounce-back to reality with the sophomore album from England’s classic metal rockers, Tailgunner. I was a fan of their 2023 Guns for Hire debut and found their modernized take on NWoBHM antics to be an entertaining ride. They slot into the same category as acts like Enforcer, Wolf, and Skullfist, and they have enough talent to sell traditional metal thrills like they’re something new. On Midnight Blitz, they rock a slightly more polished variant of what we heard last time with less of an obvious NWoBHM core, but their basic attack plan is still there. It’s all high-flying dual-guitar assaults, soaring vocals, and thundering drums, forced through an anthemic stadium-metal filter to create catchy, crunchy little metal nuggets ready to dip in shitty beer. It’s as cutting-edge and innovative as a stick, but sometimes brainless is better anyway. Now shut up and get in the gun seat!

Things open up effectively with the exuberant title track, which delivers all the classic metal goods and recalls Iron Maiden’s “Aces High” in subtle and unsubtle ways, especially in the lusty guitar noodling. The chorus is immediate and hooky and works as intended, and you will suffer involuntary fist-banging disorder as you prepare to strike at something at midnight. They manage to keep things in this winning window for much of the runtime with catchy tidbits like “Tears in the Rain,” which pays homage to the coolest lines from Blade Runner in appropriately big ways with a huge chorus, and the stupidly infectious “Dead Until Dark,” which rocks hard and rides free with a big Euro-power chorus that sticks like peanut butter mixed with Gorilla Glue. Some of the tracks punch above their weight and really win you over, like “Barren Lands and Seas of Red” and “Blood Sacrifice,” which thread that tiny needle between 80s metal and Euro-power to deliver hot guitar work and larger-than-life choruses.

Elsewhere, “Night Raids” reminds me of something off Human Fortress’s immortal Defenders of the Crown album, so that’s a win. Even the big, overwrought power ballad “War in Heaven” hits harder than you’d expect, sounding a bit like Primal Fear, though it does blunt the album’s momentum somewhat. Not every song is as clutch as the top dogs, and there is a minor bloat factor on a few songs, but no track feels like filler or an afterthought, and at 44 minutes, Midnight Blitz flies by like a gloaming onslaught. The production is a bit too clean, and I’d prefer more bite on the guitars, but you can hear everything the band does clearly.

Craig Cairns leads the air attack for Tailgunner, and he sounds more polished and professional here than he did on Guns for Hire. He no longer reminds me of Blaze Baley or Brian Ross of Satan, and his clear, commanding vocals skew more to a Euro-power style now, but there’s still enough grit to get the job done well. Much of the impact comes from guitarists Zach Salvini and Rhea Thompson. They rob the vaults of 80s metal wantonly while dabbling in various levels of Euro-cheese making, but never go too far down that rabbit hole to find the pirate shirts. There are ripping riffs, melodic harmonies, and overblown solos aplenty, and they keep the energy levels sky high for much of the runtime.

Midnight Blitz is a successful evolution of the Tailgunner sound. I might prefer the slightly more raucous sound of their debut, but what these cats do is still in the wheelhouse of Steel, and I eat it up like fruit leather and old Twinkies. If you like high-energy 80s metal designed to get the head nodding, Tailgunner is the caliber of act you should load up and blast. Fun will be had, and planes will be felled. It’s it’s a Midnight Blitz!



Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: Fucking Stream
Label: Napalm
Websites: tailgunner.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/tailgunnerhq | instagram.com/tailgunnerhq
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

After staggering off four crazy days at sea for the 70000 Tons of Metal cruise, my ears and brain are fried unto merciless death. Luckily, I anticipated this contingency and left myself a fairly easy bounce-back to reality with the sophomore album from England’s classic metal rockers, Tailgunner. I was a fan of their 2023 Guns for Hire debut and found their modernized take on NWoBHM antics to be an entertaining ride. They slot into the same category as acts like Enforcer, Wolf, and Skullfist, and they have enough talent to sell traditional metal thrills like they’re something new. On Midnight Blitz, they rock a slightly more polished variant of what we heard last time with less of an obvious NWoBHM core, but their basic attack plan is still there. It’s all high-flying dual-guitar assaults, soaring vocals, and thundering drums, forced through an anthemic stadium-metal filter to create catchy, crunchy little metal nuggets ready to dip in shitty beer. It’s as cutting-edge and innovative as a stick, but sometimes brainless is better anyway. Now shut up and get in the gun seat!

Things open up effectively with the exuberant title track, which delivers all the classic metal goods and recalls Iron Maiden’s “Aces High” in subtle and unsubtle ways, especially in the lusty guitar noodling. The chorus is immediate and hooky and works as intended, and you will suffer involuntary fist-banging disorder as you prepare to strike at something at midnight. They manage to keep things in this winning window for much of the runtime with catchy tidbits like “Tears in the Rain,” which pays homage to the coolest lines from Blade Runner in appropriately big ways with a huge chorus, and the stupidly infectious “Dead Until Dark,” which rocks hard and rides free with a big Euro-power chorus that sticks like peanut butter mixed with Gorilla Glue. Some of the tracks punch above their weight and really win you over, like “Barren Lands and Seas of Red” and “Blood Sacrifice,” which thread that tiny needle between 80s metal and Euro-power to deliver hot guitar work and larger-than-life choruses.

Elsewhere, “Night Raids” reminds me of something off Human Fortress’s immortal Defenders of the Crown album, so that’s a win. Even the big, overwrought power ballad “War in Heaven” hits harder than you’d expect, sounding a bit like Primal Fear, though it does blunt the album’s momentum somewhat. Not every song is as clutch as the top dogs, and there is a minor bloat factor on a few songs, but no track feels like filler or an afterthought, and at 44 minutes, Midnight Blitz flies by like a gloaming onslaught. The production is a bit too clean, and I’d prefer more bite on the guitars, but you can hear everything the band does clearly.

Craig Cairns leads the air attack for Tailgunner, and he sounds more polished and professional here than he did on Guns for Hire. He no longer reminds me of Blaze Baley or Brian Ross of Satan, and his clear, commanding vocals skew more to a Euro-power style now, but there’s still enough grit to get the job done well. Much of the impact comes from guitarists Zach Salvini and Rhea Thompson. They rob the vaults of 80s metal wantonly while dabbling in various levels of Euro-cheese making, but never go too far down that rabbit hole to find the pirate shirts. There are ripping riffs, melodic harmonies, and overblown solos aplenty, and they keep the energy levels sky high for much of the runtime.

Midnight Blitz is a successful evolution of the Tailgunner sound. I might prefer the slightly more raucous sound of their debut, but what these cats do is still in the wheelhouse of Steel, and I eat it up like fruit leather and old Twinkies. If you like high-energy 80s metal designed to get the head nodding, Tailgunner is the caliber of act you should load up and blast. Fun will be had, and planes will be felled. It’s it’s a Midnight Blitz!



Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: Fucking Stream
Label: Napalm
Websites: tailgunner.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/tailgunnerhq | instagram.com/tailgunnerhq
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

After staggering off four crazy days at sea for the 70000 Tons of Metal cruise, my ears and brain are fried unto merciless death. Luckily, I anticipated this contingency and left myself a fairly easy bounce-back to reality with the sophomore album from England’s classic metal rockers, Tailgunner. I was a fan of their 2023 Guns for Hire debut and found their modernized take on NWoBHM antics to be an entertaining ride. They slot into the same category as acts like Enforcer, Wolf, and Skullfist, and they have enough talent to sell traditional metal thrills like they’re something new. On Midnight Blitz, they rock a slightly more polished variant of what we heard last time with less of an obvious NWoBHM core, but their basic attack plan is still there. It’s all high-flying dual-guitar assaults, soaring vocals, and thundering drums, forced through an anthemic stadium-metal filter to create catchy, crunchy little metal nuggets ready to dip in shitty beer. It’s as cutting-edge and innovative as a stick, but sometimes brainless is better anyway. Now shut up and get in the gun seat!

Things open up effectively with the exuberant title track, which delivers all the classic metal goods and recalls Iron Maiden’s “Aces High” in subtle and unsubtle ways, especially in the lusty guitar noodling. The chorus is immediate and hooky and works as intended, and you will suffer involuntary fist-banging disorder as you prepare to strike at something at midnight. They manage to keep things in this winning window for much of the runtime with catchy tidbits like “Tears in the Rain,” which pays homage to the coolest lines from Blade Runner in appropriately big ways with a huge chorus, and the stupidly infectious “Dead Until Dark,” which rocks hard and rides free with a big Euro-power chorus that sticks like peanut butter mixed with Gorilla Glue. Some of the tracks punch above their weight and really win you over, like “Barren Lands and Seas of Red” and “Blood Sacrifice,” which thread that tiny needle between 80s metal and Euro-power to deliver hot guitar work and larger-than-life choruses.

Elsewhere, “Night Raids” reminds me of something off Human Fortress’s immortal Defenders of the Crown album, so that’s a win. Even the big, overwrought power ballad “War in Heaven” hits harder than you’d expect, sounding a bit like Primal Fear, though it does blunt the album’s momentum somewhat. Not every song is as clutch as the top dogs, and there is a minor bloat factor on a few songs, but no track feels like filler or an afterthought, and at 44 minutes, Midnight Blitz flies by like a gloaming onslaught. The production is a bit too clean, and I’d prefer more bite on the guitars, but you can hear everything the band does clearly.

Craig Cairns leads the air attack for Tailgunner, and he sounds more polished and professional here than he did on Guns for Hire. He no longer reminds me of Blaze Baley or Brian Ross of Satan, and his clear, commanding vocals skew more to a Euro-power style now, but there’s still enough grit to get the job done well. Much of the impact comes from guitarists Zach Salvini and Rhea Thompson. They rob the vaults of 80s metal wantonly while dabbling in various levels of Euro-cheese making, but never go too far down that rabbit hole to find the pirate shirts. There are ripping riffs, melodic harmonies, and overblown solos aplenty, and they keep the energy levels sky high for much of the runtime.

Midnight Blitz is a successful evolution of the Tailgunner sound. I might prefer the slightly more raucous sound of their debut, but what these cats do is still in the wheelhouse of Steel, and I eat it up like fruit leather and old Twinkies. If you like high-energy 80s metal designed to get the head nodding, Tailgunner is the caliber of act you should load up and blast. Fun will be had, and planes will be felled. It’s it’s a Midnight Blitz!



Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: Fucking Stream
Label: Napalm
Websites: tailgunner.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/tailgunnerhq | instagram.com/tailgunnerhq
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

After staggering off four crazy days at sea for the 70000 Tons of Metal cruise, my ears and brain are fried unto merciless death. Luckily, I anticipated this contingency and left myself a fairly easy bounce-back to reality with the sophomore album from England’s classic metal rockers, Tailgunner. I was a fan of their 2023 Guns for Hire debut and found their modernized take on NWoBHM antics to be an entertaining ride. They slot into the same category as acts like Enforcer, Wolf, and Skullfist, and they have enough talent to sell traditional metal thrills like they’re something new. On Midnight Blitz, they rock a slightly more polished variant of what we heard last time with less of an obvious NWoBHM core, but their basic attack plan is still there. It’s all high-flying dual-guitar assaults, soaring vocals, and thundering drums, forced through an anthemic stadium-metal filter to create catchy, crunchy little metal nuggets ready to dip in shitty beer. It’s as cutting-edge and innovative as a stick, but sometimes brainless is better anyway. Now shut up and get in the gun seat!

Things open up effectively with the exuberant title track, which delivers all the classic metal goods and recalls Iron Maiden’s “Aces High” in subtle and unsubtle ways, especially in the lusty guitar noodling. The chorus is immediate and hooky and works as intended, and you will suffer involuntary fist-banging disorder as you prepare to strike at something at midnight. They manage to keep things in this winning window for much of the runtime with catchy tidbits like “Tears in the Rain,” which pays homage to the coolest lines from Blade Runner in appropriately big ways with a huge chorus, and the stupidly infectious “Dead Until Dark,” which rocks hard and rides free with a big Euro-power chorus that sticks like peanut butter mixed with Gorilla Glue. Some of the tracks punch above their weight and really win you over, like “Barren Lands and Seas of Red” and “Blood Sacrifice,” which thread that tiny needle between 80s metal and Euro-power to deliver hot guitar work and larger-than-life choruses.

Elsewhere, “Night Raids” reminds me of something off Human Fortress’s immortal Defenders of the Crown album, so that’s a win. Even the big, overwrought power ballad “War in Heaven” hits harder than you’d expect, sounding a bit like Primal Fear, though it does blunt the album’s momentum somewhat. Not every song is as clutch as the top dogs, and there is a minor bloat factor on a few songs, but no track feels like filler or an afterthought, and at 44 minutes, Midnight Blitz flies by like a gloaming onslaught. The production is a bit too clean, and I’d prefer more bite on the guitars, but you can hear everything the band does clearly.

Craig Carns leads the air attack for Tailgunner, and he sounds more polished and professional here than he did on Guns for Hire. He no longer reminds me of Blaze Baley or Brian Ross of Satan, and his clear, commanding vocals skew more to a Euro-power style now, but there’s still enough grit to get the job done well. Much of the impact comes from guitarists Zach Salvini and Rhea Thompson. They rob the vaults of 80s metal wantonly while dabbling in various levels of Euro-cheese making, but never go too far down that rabbit hole to find the pirate shirts. There are ripping riffs, melodic harmonies, and overblown solos aplenty, and they keep the energy levels sky high for much of the runtime.

Midnight Blitz is a successful evolution of the Tailgunner sound. I might prefer the slightly more raucous sound of their debut, but what these cats do is still in the wheelhouse of Steel, and I eat it up like fruit leather and old Twinkies. If you like high-energy 80s metal designed to get the head nodding, Tailgunner is the caliber of act you should load up and blast. Fun will be had, and planes will be felled. It’s it’s a Midnight Blitz!



Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: Fucking Stream
Label: Napalm
Websites: tailgunner.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/tailgunnerhq | instagram.com/tailgunnerhq
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

Sneaking in at the end of a crowded 2025, Memories of Old released their sophomore record, Never Stop Believing, hoping to fill a Fellowship-sized hole in your heart. Last we saw them in 2020, Emya gave their debut a glowing review, praising vocalist Tommy Johansson and saying the band sounded as if they’d “been playing together for decades.” As you might say in the sports world, Emya may have jinxed them. Since releasing The Zeramin Game, three of the five band members have departed, including Johansson, and it’s taken five years to put together a follow-up. Such high turnover usually spells disaster, and it might also explain the quiet release and lack of a promo. However, both new and remaining members took Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin'” to heart and want to remind their fans to Never Stop Believing.

It’s clear this new iteration of Memories of Old takes their inspiration from the cheerful style of Fellowship. The record just oozes positivity, from the album title to the lyrical content to the uplifting guitars and synths. Further, new vocalist Noah Simmons sounds a lot like Matthew Corry, with a higher register than your typical power metal vocalist. He just sounds so cheerful every time he sings, and these good vibes are infectious. Songs thrum with energy thanks to the galloping blast beats and the frequent, and often dynamic, solos that invigorate each tune. It’s pure bliss from start to the final track, “Journey to the Stars,” where the band takes us to a place where “angels fly through the sky.” If you’re allergic to this level of optimism, steer clear of Never Stop Believing. For the rest of you, adventure on!

Never Stop Believing by Memories Of Old

Memories of Old excel at not just the good cheer, but also the songwriting and storytelling. Anchored by its catchy chorus “Guardians of the Kingdom” displays these strengths as it methodically builds up from a slower pace to something that has you primed and pumped for battle. There’s a variety on Never Stop Believing that keeps it fresh without sacrificing the character of the band. The muscular, heavy “Memories of Old” takes a page out of the Manowar playbook with an adrenaline-fueled bass drum beat and the second catchiest chorus on the record. Meanwhile, “After the Storm” has a synth that could fit right in with a Trans-Siberian Orchestra holiday hit, followed by a chorus that mixes disco with ABBA pop beats. “Life Begins Again,” the lone ballad, begins with an intro reminiscent of a Mötley Crüe ballad before diving into the tears-of-joy weepies. Memories of Old delivers 55 minutes of symphonic power metal that’s sure to bring out the innocent, joyful child in you.1

In a year that had mid to really good cheesy power metal, with few outstanding acts, Memories of Old stands apart. The vision of the remaining founding members, Billy Jeffs and Anthony Thompson, held together during a period of immense change for the band. I imagine that these guys can put out another set of bangers with some extra time together. Maybe next time they’ll send us the promo so I don’t have to wait to stumble upon this by mistake again.2

Tracks to Check Out: “Never Stop Believing,” “Guardians of the Kingdom,” “Fly Away Together,” “After the Storm”

Sneaking in at the end of a crowded 2025, Memories of Old released their sophomore record, Never Stop Believing, hoping to fill a Fellowship-sized hole in your heart. Last we saw them in 2020, Emya gave their debut a glowing review, praising vocalist Tommy Johansson and saying the band sounded as if they’d “been playing together for decades.” As you might say in the sports world, Emya may have jinxed them. Since releasing The Zeramin Game, three of the five band members have departed, including Johansson, and it’s taken five years to put together a follow-up. Such high turnover usually spells disaster, and it might also explain the quiet release and lack of a promo. However, both new and remaining members took Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin'” to heart and want to remind their fans to Never Stop Believing.

It’s clear this new iteration of Memories of Old takes their inspiration from the cheerful style of Fellowship. The record just oozes positivity, from the album title to the lyrical content to the uplifting guitars and synths. Further, new vocalist Noah Simmons sounds a lot like Matthew Corry, with a higher register than your typical power metal vocalist. He just sounds so cheerful every time he sings, and these good vibes are infectious. Songs thrum with energy thanks to the galloping blast beats and the frequent, and often dynamic, solos that invigorate each tune. It’s pure bliss from start to the final track, “Journey to the Stars,” where the band takes us to a place where “angels fly through the sky.” If you’re allergic to this level of optimism, steer clear of Never Stop Believing. For the rest of you, adventure on!

Never Stop Believing by Memories Of Old

Memories of Old excel at not just the good cheer, but also the songwriting and storytelling. Anchored by its catchy chorus “Guardians of the Kingdom” displays these strengths as it methodically builds up from a slower pace to something that has you primed and pumped for battle. There’s a variety on Never Stop Believing that keeps it fresh without sacrificing the character of the band. The muscular, heavy “Memories of Old” takes a page out of the Manowar playbook with an adrenaline-fueled bass drum beat and the second catchiest chorus on the record. Meanwhile, “After the Storm” has a synth that could fit right in with a Trans-Siberian Orchestra holiday hit, followed by a chorus that mixes disco with ABBA pop beats. “Life Begins Again,” the lone ballad, begins with an intro reminiscent of a Mötley Crüe ballad before diving into the tears-of-joy weepies. Memories of Old delivers 55 minutes of symphonic power metal that’s sure to bring out the innocent, joyful child in you.1

In a year that had mid to really good cheesy power metal, with few outstanding acts, Memories of Old stands apart. The vision of the remaining founding members, Billy Jeffs and Anthony Thompson, held together during a period of immense change for the band. I imagine that these guys can put out another set of bangers with some extra time together. Maybe next time they’ll send us the promo so I don’t have to wait to stumble upon this by mistake again.2

Tracks to Check Out: “Never Stop Believing,” “Guardians of the Kingdom,” “Fly Away Together,” “After the Storm”

Sneaking in at the end of a crowded 2025, Memories of Old released their sophomore record, Never Stop Believing, hoping to fill a Fellowship-sized hole in your heart. Last we saw them in 2020, Emya gave their debut a glowing review, praising vocalist Tommy Johansson and saying the band sounded as if they’d “been playing together for decades.” As you might say in the sports world, Emya may have jinxed them. Since releasing The Zeramin Game, three of the five band members have departed, including Johansson, and it’s taken five years to put together a follow-up. Such high turnover usually spells disaster, and it might also explain the quiet release and lack of a promo. However, both new and remaining members took Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin'” to heart and want to remind their fans to Never Stop Believing.

It’s clear this new iteration of Memories of Old takes their inspiration from the cheerful style of Fellowship. The record just oozes positivity, from the album title to the lyrical content to the uplifting guitars and synths. Further, new vocalist Noah Simmons sounds a lot like Matthew Corry, with a higher register than your typical power metal vocalist. He just sounds so cheerful every time he sings, and these good vibes are infectious. Songs thrum with energy thanks to the galloping blast beats and the frequent, and often dynamic, solos that invigorate each tune. It’s pure bliss from start to the final track, “Journey to the Stars,” where the band takes us to a place where “angels fly through the sky.” If you’re allergic to this level of optimism, steer clear of Never Stop Believing. For the rest of you, adventure on!

Never Stop Believing by Memories Of Old

Memories of Old excel at not just the good cheer, but also the songwriting and storytelling. Anchored by its catchy chorus “Guardians of the Kingdom” displays these strengths as it methodically builds up from a slower pace to something that has you primed and pumped for battle. There’s a variety on Never Stop Believing that keeps it fresh without sacrificing the character of the band. The muscular, heavy “Memories of Old” takes a page out of the Manowar playbook with an adrenaline-fueled bass drum beat and the second catchiest chorus on the record. Meanwhile, “After the Storm” has a synth that could fit right in with a Trans-Siberian Orchestra holiday hit, followed by a chorus that mixes disco with ABBA pop beats. “Life Begins Again,” the lone ballad, begins with an intro reminiscent of a Mötley Crüe ballad before diving into the tears-of-joy weepies. Memories of Old delivers 55 minutes of symphonic power metal that’s sure to bring out the innocent, joyful child in you.1

In a year that had mid to really good cheesy power metal, with few outstanding acts, Memories of Old stands apart. The vision of the remaining founding members, Billy Jeffs and Anthony Thompson, held together during a period of immense change for the band. I imagine that these guys can put out another set of bangers with some extra time together. Maybe next time they’ll send us the promo so I don’t have to wait to stumble upon this by mistake again.2

Tracks to Check Out: “Never Stop Believing,” “Guardians of the Kingdom,” “Fly Away Together,” “After the Storm”

Sneaking in at the end of a crowded 2025, Memories of Old released their sophomore record, Never Stop Believing, hoping to fill a Fellowship-sized hole in your heart. Last we saw them in 2020, Emya gave their debut a glowing review, praising vocalist Tommy Johansson and saying the band sounded as if they’d “been playing together for decades.” As you might say in the sports world, Emya may have jinxed them. Since releasing The Zeramin Game, three of the five band members have departed, including Johansson, and it’s taken five years to put together a follow-up. Such high turnover usually spells disaster, and it might also explain the quiet release and lack of a promo. However, both new and remaining members took Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin'” to heart and want to remind their fans to Never Stop Believing.

It’s clear this new iteration of Memories of Old takes their inspiration from the cheerful style of Fellowship. The record just oozes positivity, from the album title to the lyrical content to the uplifting guitars and synths. Further, new vocalist Noah Simmons sounds a lot like Matthew Corry, with a higher register than your typical power metal vocalist. He just sounds so cheerful every time he sings, and these good vibes are infectious. Songs thrum with energy thanks to the galloping blast beats and the frequent, and often dynamic, solos that invigorate each tune. It’s pure bliss from start to the final track, “Journey to the Stars,” where the band takes us to a place where “angels fly through the sky.” If you’re allergic to this level of optimism, steer clear of Never Stop Believing. For the rest of you, adventure on!

Never Stop Believing by Memories Of Old

Memories of Old excel at not just the good cheer, but also the songwriting and storytelling. Anchored by its catchy chorus “Guardians of the Kingdom” displays these strengths as it methodically builds up from a slower pace to something that has you primed and pumped for battle. There’s a variety on Never Stop Believing that keeps it fresh without sacrificing the character of the band. The muscular, heavy “Memories of Old” takes a page out of the Manowar playbook with an adrenaline-fueled bass drum beat and the second catchiest chorus on the record. Meanwhile, “After the Storm” has a synth that could fit right in with a Trans-Siberian Orchestra holiday hit, followed by a chorus that mixes disco with ABBA pop beats. “Life Begins Again,” the lone ballad, begins with an intro reminiscent of a Mötley Crüe ballad before diving into the tears-of-joy weepies. Memories of Old delivers 55 minutes of symphonic power metal that’s sure to bring out the innocent, joyful child in you.1

In a year that had mid to really good cheesy power metal, with few outstanding acts, Memories of Old stands apart. The vision of the remaining founding members, Billy Jeffs and Anthony Thompson, held together during a period of immense change for the band. I imagine that these guys can put out another set of bangers with some extra time together. Maybe next time they’ll send us the promo so I don’t have to wait to stumble upon this by mistake again.2

Tracks to Check Out: “Never Stop Believing,” “Guardians of the Kingdom,” “Fly Away Together,” “After the Storm”

Sneaking in at the end of a crowded 2025, Memories of Old released their sophomore record, Never Stop Believing, hoping to fill a Fellowship-sized hole in your heart. Last we saw them in 2020, Emya gave their debut a glowing review, praising vocalist Tommy Johansson and saying the band sounded as if they’d “been playing together for decades.” As you might say in the sports world, Emya may have jinxed them. Since releasing The Zeramin Game, three of the five band members have departed, including Johansson, and it’s taken five years to put together a follow-up. Such high turnover usually spells disaster, and it might also explain the quiet release and lack of a promo. However, both new and remaining members took Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin'” to heart and want to remind their fans to Never Stop Believing.

It’s clear this new iteration of Memories of Old takes their inspiration from the cheerful style of Fellowship. The record just oozes positivity, from the album title to the lyrical content to the uplifting guitars and synths. Further, new vocalist Noah Simmons sounds a lot like Matthew Corry, with a higher register than your typical power metal vocalist. He just sounds so cheerful every time he sings, and these good vibes are infectious. Songs thrum with energy thanks to the galloping blast beats and the frequent, and often dynamic, solos that invigorate each tune. It’s pure bliss from start to the final track, “Journey to the Stars,” where the band takes us to a place where “angels fly through the sky.” If you’re allergic to this level of optimism, steer clear of Never Stop Believing. For the rest of you, adventure on!

Never Stop Believing by Memories Of Old

Memories of Old excel at not just the good cheer, but also the songwriting and storytelling. Anchored by its catchy chorus “Guardians of the Kingdom” displays these strengths as it methodically builds up from a slower pace to something that has you primed and pumped for battle. There’s a variety on Never Stop Believing that keeps it fresh without sacrificing the character of the band. The muscular, heavy “Memories of Old” takes a page out of the Manowar playbook with an adrenaline-fueled bass drum beat and the second catchiest chorus on the record. Meanwhile, “After the Storm” has a synth that could fit right in with a Trans-Siberian Orchestra holiday hit, followed by a chorus that mixes disco with ABBA pop beats. “Life Begins Again,” the lone ballad, begins with an intro reminiscent of a Mötley Crüe ballad before diving into the tears-of-joy weepies. Memories of Old delivers 55 minutes of symphonic power metal that’s sure to bring out the innocent, joyful child in you.1

In a year that had mid to really good cheesy power metal, with few outstanding acts, Memories of Old stands apart. The vision of the remaining founding members, Billy Jeffs and Anthony Thompson, held together during a period of immense change for the band. I imagine that these guys can put out another set of bangers with some extra time together. Maybe next time they’ll send us the promo so I don’t have to wait to stumble upon this by mistake again.2

Tracks to Check Out: “Never Stop Believing,” “Guardians of the Kingdom,” “Fly Away Together,” “After the Storm”

This stunning debut comes to us via members from across the globe—from England to Spain to Czechia to Brazil. Despite somewhat limited experience between them, the sextet plays like they’ve been jamming together for decades. They bring an eclectic range of styles from their previous and current bands, from black metal to scatological heavy metal to melodic doom to gothic metal, in order to craft a gentle yet brutal piece of gothic doom metal. I would like to give a warm welcome to Opia and their powerful debut album, I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep.

Opia deftly balances the gentle with the crushingly heavy, resulting in a record of beautiful melancholy that would make My Dying Bride and Swallow the Sun proud. They achieve this with a dichotomy of soft arpeggios and heavy riffs, of tender cleans and harsh growls. This dichotomy amplifies the melancholic power of the music, and there’s an undeniable satisfaction when a song suddenly grows loud and brutal following a softer stretch. We hear this on tracks like “Days Gone By,” which opens with some nifty fretwork before exploding into heavier riffs. Opia flexes their true muscle on masterpieces like “Man Proposes, God Disposes” and “Silence,” where Tereza Rohelova’s cleans croon a melancholic melody before delving into such despairing heaviness that it’ll have you aching from the hurt. The similarly astonishing “The Eye” flips the melodic element on its head with a chorus where Rohelova’s growls deliver the beauty over top a soaring keyboard part.

I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep by Opia

As great as the compositions are, the heartfelt performances by all musicians elevate the material. As frontwoman, Rohelova sets the tone with an electrifying performance on the level of My Dying Bride’s Aaron Stainthorpe. Her cleans take on a haunting quality that adds a touch of the gothic, and while her growls don’t reach the muscular tone of Stainthorpe, they are nonetheless effective in setting a tone of brutality. The dual guitar work from Phoenix Griffiths and Dan Tregenna also dazzle. Their fretwork is so effective and creative, whether it’s the mellower arpeggios or crushing riffs, that there’s never a dull moment or a lull. Marcelo Teixeira, behind the kit, is also solid. He swaps between gentle drum and cymbal taps to pummeling blast beats on a dime. He really goes all out on a climatic moment on the finale, “On Death’s Door Part II,” that’ll leave you breathless. Important to setting up the gothic tone is keyboardist Jorge Afonso Rodriguez, who adds melodic depth as well as atmosphere. There’s a depth to the songwriting that opens up rewarding new avenues every time I give the record another spin.

Having been released in late April, I missed out on the opportunity to review I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep by just a few weeks. But when I first heard it, I knew it was special enough to save for a TYMHM. A debut this powerful should not be missed, and having spent this extra time with it late in the year, I believe I made a mistake by not including it in my end of year list. This is a promising start for a group who, I hope, continues to craft songs together for a long time to come.

Songs to Check Out: ”Man Proposes, God Disposes,” “The Fade,” “The Eye,” “Silence

This stunning debut comes to us via members from across the globe—from England to Spain to Czechia to Brazil. Despite somewhat limited experience between them, the sextet plays like they’ve been jamming together for decades. They bring an eclectic range of styles from their previous and current bands, from black metal to scatological heavy metal to melodic doom to gothic metal, in order to craft a gentle yet brutal piece of gothic doom metal. I would like to give a warm welcome to Opia and their powerful debut album, I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep.

Opia deftly balances the gentle with the crushingly heavy, resulting in a record of beautiful melancholy that would make My Dying Bride and Swallow the Sun proud. They achieve this with a dichotomy of soft arpeggios and heavy riffs, of tender cleans and harsh growls. This dichotomy amplifies the melancholic power of the music, and there’s an undeniable satisfaction when a song suddenly grows loud and brutal following a softer stretch. We hear this on tracks like “Days Gone By,” which opens with some nifty fretwork before exploding into heavier riffs. Opia flexes their true muscle on masterpieces like “Man Proposes, God Disposes” and “Silence,” where Tereza Rohelova’s cleans croon a melancholic melody before delving into such despairing heaviness that it’ll have you aching from the hurt. The similarly astonishing “The Eye” flips the melodic element on its head with a chorus where Rohelova’s growls deliver the beauty over top a soaring keyboard part.

I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep by Opia

As great as the compositions are, the heartfelt performances by all musicians elevate the material. As frontwoman, Rohelova sets the tone with an electrifying performance on the level of My Dying Bride’s Aaron Stainthorpe. Her cleans take on a haunting quality that adds a touch of the gothic, and while her growls don’t reach the muscular tone of Stainthorpe, they are nonetheless effective in setting a tone of brutality. The dual guitar work from Phoenix Griffiths and Dan Tregenna also dazzle. Their fretwork is so effective and creative, whether it’s the mellower arpeggios or crushing riffs, that there’s never a dull moment or a lull. Marcelo Teixeira, behind the kit, is also solid. He swaps between gentle drum and cymbal taps to pummeling blast beats on a dime. He really goes all out on a climatic moment on the finale, “On Death’s Door Part II,” that’ll leave you breathless. Important to setting up the gothic tone is keyboardist Jorge Afonso Rodriguez, who adds melodic depth as well as atmosphere. There’s a depth to the songwriting that opens up rewarding new avenues every time I give the record another spin.

Having been released in late April, I missed out on the opportunity to review I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep by just a few weeks. But when I first heard it, I knew it was special enough to save for a TYMHM. A debut this powerful should not be missed, and having spent this extra time with it late in the year, I believe I made a mistake by not including it in my end of year list. This is a promising start for a group who, I hope, continues to craft songs together for a long time to come.

Songs to Check Out: ”Man Proposes, God Disposes,” “The Fade,” “The Eye,” “Silence

This stunning debut comes to us via members from across the globe—from England to Spain to Czechia to Brazil. Despite somewhat limited experience between them, the sextet plays like they’ve been jamming together for decades. They bring an eclectic range of styles from their previous and current bands, from black metal to scatological heavy metal to melodic doom to gothic metal, in order to craft a gentle yet brutal piece of gothic doom metal. I would like to give a warm welcome to Opia and their powerful debut album, I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep.

Opia deftly balances the gentle with the crushingly heavy, resulting in a record of beautiful melancholy that would make My Dying Bride and Swallow the Sun proud. They achieve this with a dichotomy of soft arpeggios and heavy riffs, of tender cleans and harsh growls. This dichotomy amplifies the melancholic power of the music, and there’s an undeniable satisfaction when a song suddenly grows loud and brutal following a softer stretch. We hear this on tracks like “Days Gone By,” which opens with some nifty fretwork before exploding into heavier riffs. Opia flexes their true muscle on masterpieces like “Man Proposes, God Disposes” and “Silence,” where Tereza Rohelova’s cleans croon a melancholic melody before delving into such despairing heaviness that it’ll have you aching from the hurt. The similarly astonishing “The Eye” flips the melodic element on its head with a chorus where Rohelova’s growls deliver the beauty over top a soaring keyboard part.

I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep by Opia

As great as the compositions are, the heartfelt performances by all musicians elevate the material. As frontwoman, Rohelova sets the tone with an electrifying performance on the level of My Dying Bride’s Aaron Stainthorpe. Her cleans take on a haunting quality that adds a touch of the gothic, and while her growls don’t reach the muscular tone of Stainthorpe, they are nonetheless effective in setting a tone of brutality. The dual guitar work from Phoenix Griffiths and Dan Tregenna also dazzle. Their fretwork is so effective and creative, whether it’s the mellower arpeggios or crushing riffs, that there’s never a dull moment or a lull. Marcelo Teixeira, behind the kit, is also solid. He swaps between gentle drum and cymbal taps to pummeling blast beats on a dime. He really goes all out on a climatic moment on the finale, “On Death’s Door Part II,” that’ll leave you breathless. Important to setting up the gothic tone is keyboardist Jorge Afonso Rodriguez, who adds melodic depth as well as atmosphere. There’s a depth to the songwriting that opens up rewarding new avenues every time I give the record another spin.

Having been released in late April, I missed out on the opportunity to review I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep by just a few weeks. But when I first heard it, I knew it was special enough to save for a TYMHM. A debut this powerful should not be missed, and having spent this extra time with it late in the year, I believe I made a mistake by not including it in my end of year list. This is a promising start for a group who, I hope, continues to craft songs together for a long time to come.

Songs to Check Out: ”Man Proposes, God Disposes,” “The Fade,” “The Eye,” “Silence

This stunning debut comes to us via members from across the globe—from England to Spain to Czechia to Brazil. Despite somewhat limited experience between them, the sextet plays like they’ve been jamming together for decades. They bring an eclectic range of styles from their previous and current bands, from black metal to scatological heavy metal to melodic doom to gothic metal, in order to craft a gentle yet brutal piece of gothic doom metal. I would like to give a warm welcome to Opia and their powerful debut album, I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep.

Opia deftly balances the gentle with the crushingly heavy, resulting in a record of beautiful melancholy that would make My Dying Bride and Swallow the Sun proud. They achieve this with a dichotomy of soft arpeggios and heavy riffs, of tender cleans and harsh growls. This dichotomy amplifies the melancholic power of the music, and there’s an undeniable satisfaction when a song suddenly grows loud and brutal following a softer stretch. We hear this on tracks like “Days Gone By,” which opens with some nifty fretwork before exploding into heavier riffs. Opia flexes their true muscle on masterpieces like “Man Proposes, God Disposes” and “Silence,” where Tereza Rohelova’s cleans croon a melancholic melody before delving into such despairing heaviness that it’ll have you aching from the hurt. The similarly astonishing “The Eye” flips the melodic element on its head with a chorus where Rohelova’s growls deliver the beauty over top a soaring keyboard part.

I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep by Opia

As great as the compositions are, the heartfelt performances by all musicians elevate the material. As frontwoman, Rohelova sets the tone with an electrifying performance on the level of My Dying Bride’s Aaron Stainthorpe. Her cleans take on a haunting quality that adds a touch of the gothic, and while her growls don’t reach the muscular tone of Stainthorpe, they are nonetheless effective in setting a tone of brutality. The dual guitar work from Phoenix Griffiths and Dan Tregenna also dazzle. Their fretwork is so effective and creative, whether it’s the mellower arpeggios or crushing riffs, that there’s never a dull moment or a lull. Marcelo Teixeira, behind the kit, is also solid. He swaps between gentle drum and cymbal taps to pummeling blast beats on a dime. He really goes all out on a climatic moment on the finale, “On Death’s Door Part II,” that’ll leave you breathless. Important to setting up the gothic tone is keyboardist Jorge Afonso Rodriguez, who adds melodic depth as well as atmosphere. There’s a depth to the songwriting that opens up rewarding new avenues every time I give the record another spin.

Having been released in late April, I missed out on the opportunity to review I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep by just a few weeks. But when I first heard it, I knew it was special enough to save for a TYMHM. A debut this powerful should not be missed, and having spent this extra time with it late in the year, I believe I made a mistake by not including it in my end of year list. This is a promising start for a group who, I hope, continues to craft songs together for a long time to come.

Songs to Check Out: ”Man Proposes, God Disposes,” “The Fade,” “The Eye,” “Silence

This stunning debut comes to us via members from across the globe—from England to Spain to Czechia to Brazil. Despite somewhat limited experience between them, the sextet plays like they’ve been jamming together for decades. They bring an eclectic range of styles from their previous and current bands, from black metal to scatological heavy metal to melodic doom to gothic metal, in order to craft a gentle yet brutal piece of gothic doom metal. I would like to give a warm welcome to Opia and their powerful debut album, I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep.

Opia deftly balances the gentle with the crushingly heavy, resulting in a record of beautiful melancholy that would make My Dying Bride and Swallow the Sun proud. They achieve this with a dichotomy of soft arpeggios and heavy riffs, of tender cleans and harsh growls. This dichotomy amplifies the melancholic power of the music, and there’s an undeniable satisfaction when a song suddenly grows loud and brutal following a softer stretch. We hear this on tracks like “Days Gone By,” which opens with some nifty fretwork before exploding into heavier riffs. Opia flexes their true muscle on masterpieces like “Man Proposes, God Disposes” and “Silence,” where Tereza Rohelova’s cleans croon a melancholic melody before delving into such despairing heaviness that it’ll have you aching from the hurt. The similarly astonishing “The Eye” flips the melodic element on its head with a chorus where Rohelova’s growls deliver the beauty over top a soaring keyboard part.

I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep by Opia

As great as the compositions are, the heartfelt performances by all musicians elevate the material. As frontwoman, Rohelova sets the tone with an electrifying performance on the level of My Dying Bride’s Aaron Stainthorpe. Her cleans take on a haunting quality that adds a touch of the gothic, and while her growls don’t reach the muscular tone of Stainthorpe, they are nonetheless effective in setting a tone of brutality. The dual guitar work from Phoenix Griffiths and Dan Tregenna also dazzle. Their fretwork is so effective and creative, whether it’s the mellower arpeggios or crushing riffs, that there’s never a dull moment or a lull. Marcelo Teixeira, behind the kit, is also solid. He swaps between gentle drum and cymbal taps to pummeling blast beats on a dime. He really goes all out on a climatic moment on the finale, “On Death’s Door Part II,” that’ll leave you breathless. Important to setting up the gothic tone is keyboardist Jorge Afonso Rodriguez, who adds melodic depth as well as atmosphere. There’s a depth to the songwriting that opens up rewarding new avenues every time I give the record another spin.

Having been released in late April, I missed out on the opportunity to review I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep by just a few weeks. But when I first heard it, I knew it was special enough to save for a TYMHM. A debut this powerful should not be missed, and having spent this extra time with it late in the year, I believe I made a mistake by not including it in my end of year list. This is a promising start for a group who, I hope, continues to craft songs together for a long time to come.

Songs to Check Out: ”Man Proposes, God Disposes,” “The Fade,” “The Eye,” “Silence

Lychgate – Precipice Review

By Grin Reaper

Dense, dark, and demented, Lychgate’s Precipice breaks nearly six years of silence with music as unsettling as the concept it’s built upon. The album’s primary inspiration draws from E. M. Forster’s short story “The Machine Stops,” a dystopian tale first published in 1909 that cautions against over-reliance on technology.1 In it, The Machine enables people to govern their lives from isolated chambers, interacting virtually rather than in person after the Earth’s surface becomes uninhabitable. Integrating notions such as blind obedience to technology, instantaneous communication, and climate change furnishes a lavish backdrop for London’s Lychgate and their fourth LP.2 Given the promise of its premise, does Precipice step off the ledge and soar, or plummet to the depths of obscurity?

Brandishing a broad array of atmospheres and a flair for generating tension, Lychgate conjures oppressive auras that equally frighten and excite. To that end, Precipice’s aural footprint lands somewhere between Blut aus Nord’s dissonant grooves and a decelerated Imperial Triumphant at their most cinematic (think “Transmission to Mercury”), taking the avant-garde trappings of each and devising a mood and character all Lychgate’s own. Emboldened by jazzy flourishes à la Dødheimsgard, Scarcity’s cacophonous, freeform nonconformity, and Morast’s caustic claustrophobia, Lychgate forges an unforgiving yet layered experience that outstrips single reference points. Tensions runs roughshod throughout Precipice, knotting its nine tracks into gnarled enigmas that demand to be sussed out with care. Gone are the clean vocals from The Contagion in Nine Steps and An Antidote for the Glass Pill, and instead vocalist Greg Chandler focuses solely on barks and snarls that remind of Doug Moore’s urgent rasps. Atop it all, Lychgate further embeds the organ into the band’s core sound and discharges potent riffs at key climactic junctures, leaving Precipice crackling with vitality and unpredictability.

Precipice’s varied compositions and instrumentations coalesce to propel Lychgate to new heights. It’s a mature release that exemplifies the prevailing virtues of prior albums, unifying them into an impressively intricate forty-eight minutes. The organ, credited to permanent member J. C. Young and session musician F. A. Young, plays a central role, spanning the gamut from lunatic funhouse (“Anagnorisis”) to Phantom of the Opera gothic drama (“Mausoleum of Steel”). It keenly weaves a calculated stress, plying tension in ebbs and flows that cleverly and constantly push the album forward. Besides organ and piano, loose guitar structures regularly bleed into riffs plucked out of an eldritch ether, oscillating between Zappa’s Jazz from Hell and unearthly, pit-scorching acrobatics (“Renunciation”). A doleful, introspective melody in “The Meeting of Orion and Scorpio” diversifies the sound and pacing, followed by a hectic skittering in “Hive of Parasites” that gives way to a slow-burn passage heavily featuring jazz flute. Myriad components fuse into a whole that should not sound as cohesive as it does, but Lychgate takes their carnival of sounds and crafts a finely-honed album that deserves more attention than it will get with an end-of-year release.

Lychgate employs a satisfying and well-considered array of ideas in service of Precipice, though a few hiccups are present. Besides the musical diversity, Lychgate flaunts remarkable instincts when it comes to pacing. Having the longest track as the midpoint of the album works well and helps establish a clear listening milestone; I only wish the back end of “Hive of Parasites” had been trimmed a touch, as the last three minutes blur together. The mix is another boon, providing ample space for S. D. Lindsley’s guitar, Tom MacLean’s bass, and T. J. F. Vallely’s drums. The only quibble is Precipice’s density, which could put off those lacking the time to absorb its demure gifts. All told, though, Lychgate earns every bit of praise by merging this many ideas so cohesively.

Despite its late release and complex composition, Lychgate delivers a smash success that commands and indisputably warrants your attention. Precipice isn’t easy to understand, but it’s irresistibly easy to spin again and again. And you should, because it takes time to unravel.3 Precipice has been one of my most played albums of the year at a time when I’ve been busiest both personally and professionally, routinely ensnaring me with its enchanting hooks and wiles. For my money, Lychgate has released the best album of their career, and you owe it to yourself to step up to the Precipice and take a leap of faith.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Debemur Morti Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: December 19th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AvantGardeBlackMetal #BlackMetal #BlutAusNord #DebemurMortiProductions #Dec25 #Dödheimsgard #EnglishMetal #FrankZappa #ImperialTriumphant #Lychgate #Morast #Precipice #Review #Reviews

Lychgate – Precipice Review

By Grin Reaper

Dense, dark, and demented, Lychgate’s Precipice breaks nearly six years of silence with music as unsettling as the concept it’s built upon. The album’s primary inspiration draws from E. M. Forster’s short story “The Machine Stops,” a dystopian tale first published in 1909 that cautions against over-reliance on technology.1 In it, The Machine enables people to govern their lives from isolated chambers, interacting virtually rather than in person after the Earth’s surface becomes uninhabitable. Integrating notions such as blind obedience to technology, instantaneous communication, and climate change furnishes a lavish backdrop for London’s Lychgate and their fourth LP.2 Given the promise of its premise, does Precipice step off the ledge and soar, or plummet to the depths of obscurity?

Brandishing a broad array of atmospheres and a flair for generating tension, Lychgate conjures oppressive auras that equally frighten and excite. To that end, Precipice’s aural footprint lands somewhere between Blut aus Nord’s dissonant grooves and a decelerated Imperial Triumphant at their most cinematic (think “Transmission to Mercury”), taking the avant-garde trappings of each and devising a mood and character all Lychgate’s own. Emboldened by jazzy flourishes à la Dødheimsgard, Scarcity’s cacophonous, freeform nonconformity, and Morast’s caustic claustrophobia, Lychgate forges an unforgiving yet layered experience that outstrips single reference points. Tensions runs roughshod throughout Precipice, knotting its nine tracks into gnarled enigmas that demand to be sussed out with care. Gone are the clean vocals from The Contagion in Nine Steps and An Antidote for the Glass Pill, and instead vocalist Greg Chandler focuses solely on barks and snarls that remind of Doug Moore’s urgent rasps. Atop it all, Lychgate further embeds the organ into the band’s core sound and discharges potent riffs at key climactic junctures, leaving Precipice crackling with vitality and unpredictability.

Precipice’s varied compositions and instrumentations coalesce to propel Lychgate to new heights. It’s a mature release that exemplifies the prevailing virtues of prior albums, unifying them into an impressively intricate forty-eight minutes. The organ, credited to permanent member J. C. Young and session musician F. A. Young, plays a central role, spanning the gamut from lunatic funhouse (“Anagnorisis”) to Phantom of the Opera gothic drama (“Mausoleum of Steel”). It keenly weaves a calculated stress, plying tension in ebbs and flows that cleverly and constantly push the album forward. Besides organ and piano, loose guitar structures regularly bleed into riffs plucked out of an eldritch ether, oscillating between Zappa’s Jazz from Hell and unearthly, pit-scorching acrobatics (“Renunciation”). A doleful, introspective melody in “The Meeting of Orion and Scorpio” diversifies the sound and pacing, followed by a hectic skittering in “Hive of Parasites” that gives way to a slow-burn passage heavily featuring jazz flute. Myriad components fuse into a whole that should not sound as cohesive as it does, but Lychgate takes their carnival of sounds and crafts a finely-honed album that deserves more attention than it will get with an end-of-year release.

Lychgate employs a satisfying and well-considered array of ideas in service of Precipice, though a few hiccups are present. Besides the musical diversity, Lychgate flaunts remarkable instincts when it comes to pacing. Having the longest track as the midpoint of the album works well and helps establish a clear listening milestone; I only wish the back end of “Hive of Parasites” had been trimmed a touch, as the last three minutes blur together. The mix is another boon, providing ample space for S. D. Lindsley’s guitar, Tom MacLean’s bass, and T. J. F. Vallely’s drums. The only quibble is Precipice’s density, which could put off those lacking the time to absorb its demure gifts. All told, though, Lychgate earns every bit of praise by merging this many ideas so cohesively.

Despite its late release and complex composition, Lychgate delivers a smash success that commands and indisputably warrants your attention. Precipice isn’t easy to understand, but it’s irresistibly easy to spin again and again. And you should, because it takes time to unravel.3 Precipice has been one of my most played albums of the year at a time when I’ve been busiest both personally and professionally, routinely ensnaring me with its enchanting hooks and wiles. For my money, Lychgate has released the best album of their career, and you owe it to yourself to step up to the Precipice and take a leap of faith.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Debemur Morti Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: December 19th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AvantGardeBlackMetal #BlackMetal #BlutAusNord #DebemurMortiProductions #Dec25 #Dödheimsgard #EnglishMetal #FrankZappa #ImperialTriumphant #Lychgate #Morast #Precipice #Review #Reviews

Lychgate – Precipice Review

By Grin Reaper

Dense, dark, and demented, Lychgate’s Precipice breaks nearly six years of silence with music as unsettling as the concept it’s built upon. The album’s primary inspiration draws from E. M. Forster’s short story “The Machine Stops,” a dystopian tale first published in 1909 that cautions against over-reliance on technology.1 In it, The Machine enables people to govern their lives from isolated chambers, interacting virtually rather than in person after the Earth’s surface becomes uninhabitable. Integrating notions such as blind obedience to technology, instantaneous communication, and climate change furnishes a lavish backdrop for London’s Lychgate and their fourth LP.2 Given the promise of its premise, does Precipice step off the ledge and soar, or plummet to the depths of obscurity?

Brandishing a broad array of atmospheres and a flair for generating tension, Lychgate conjures oppressive auras that equally frighten and excite. To that end, Precipice’s aural footprint lands somewhere between Blut aus Nord’s dissonant grooves and a decelerated Imperial Triumphant at their most cinematic (think “Transmission to Mercury”), taking the avant-garde trappings of each and devising a mood and character all Lychgate’s own. Emboldened by jazzy flourishes à la Dødheimsgard, Scarcity’s cacophonous, freeform nonconformity, and Morast’s caustic claustrophobia, Lychgate forges an unforgiving yet layered experience that outstrips single reference points. Tensions runs roughshod throughout Precipice, knotting its nine tracks into gnarled enigmas that demand to be sussed out with care. Gone are the clean vocals from The Contagion in Nine Steps and An Antidote for the Glass Pill, and instead vocalist Greg Chandler focuses solely on barks and snarls that remind of Doug Moore’s urgent rasps. Atop it all, Lychgate further embeds the organ into the band’s core sound and discharges potent riffs at key climactic junctures, leaving Precipice crackling with vitality and unpredictability.

Precipice’s varied compositions and instrumentations coalesce to propel Lychgate to new heights. It’s a mature release that exemplifies the prevailing virtues of prior albums, unifying them into an impressively intricate forty-eight minutes. The organ, credited to permanent member J. C. Young and session musician F. A. Young, plays a central role, spanning the gamut from lunatic funhouse (“Anagnorisis”) to Phantom of the Opera gothic drama (“Mausoleum of Steel”). It keenly weaves a calculated stress, plying tension in ebbs and flows that cleverly and constantly push the album forward. Besides organ and piano, loose guitar structures regularly bleed into riffs plucked out of an eldritch ether, oscillating between Zappa’s Jazz from Hell and unearthly, pit-scorching acrobatics (“Renunciation”). A doleful, introspective melody in “The Meeting of Orion and Scorpio” diversifies the sound and pacing, followed by a hectic skittering in “Hive of Parasites” that gives way to a slow-burn passage heavily featuring jazz flute. Myriad components fuse into a whole that should not sound as cohesive as it does, but Lychgate takes their carnival of sounds and crafts a finely-honed album that deserves more attention than it will get with an end-of-year release.

Lychgate employs a satisfying and well-considered array of ideas in service of Precipice, though a few hiccups are present. Besides the musical diversity, Lychgate flaunts remarkable instincts when it comes to pacing. Having the longest track as the midpoint of the album works well and helps establish a clear listening milestone; I only wish the back end of “Hive of Parasites” had been trimmed a touch, as the last three minutes blur together. The mix is another boon, providing ample space for S. D. Lindsley’s guitar, Tom MacLean’s bass, and T. J. F. Vallely’s drums. The only quibble is Precipice’s density, which could put off those lacking the time to absorb its demure gifts. All told, though, Lychgate earns every bit of praise by merging this many ideas so cohesively.

Despite its late release and complex composition, Lychgate delivers a smash success that commands and indisputably warrants your attention. Precipice isn’t easy to understand, but it’s irresistibly easy to spin again and again. And you should, because it takes time to unravel.3 Precipice has been one of my most played albums of the year at a time when I’ve been busiest both personally and professionally, routinely ensnaring me with its enchanting hooks and wiles. For my money, Lychgate has released the best album of their career, and you owe it to yourself to step up to the Precipice and take a leap of faith.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Debemur Morti Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: December 19th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AvantGardeBlackMetal #BlackMetal #BlutAusNord #DebemurMortiProductions #Dec25 #Dödheimsgard #EnglishMetal #FrankZappa #ImperialTriumphant #Lychgate #Morast #Precipice #Review #Reviews

Lychgate – Precipice Review

By Grin Reaper

Dense, dark, and demented, Lychgate’s Precipice breaks nearly six years of silence with music as unsettling as the concept it’s built upon. The album’s primary inspiration draws from E. M. Forster’s short story “The Machine Stops,” a dystopian tale first published in 1909 that cautions against over-reliance on technology.1 In it, The Machine enables people to govern their lives from isolated chambers, interacting virtually rather than in person after the Earth’s surface becomes uninhabitable. Integrating notions such as blind obedience to technology, instantaneous communication, and climate change furnishes a lavish backdrop for London’s Lychgate and their fourth LP.2 Given the promise of its premise, does Precipice step off the ledge and soar, or plummet to the depths of obscurity?

Brandishing a broad array of atmospheres and a flair for generating tension, Lychgate conjures oppressive auras that equally frighten and excite. To that end, Precipice’s aural footprint lands somewhere between Blut aus Nord’s dissonant grooves and a decelerated Imperial Triumphant at their most cinematic (think “Transmission to Mercury”), taking the avant-garde trappings of each and devising a mood and character all Lychgate’s own. Emboldened by jazzy flourishes à la Dødheimsgard, Scarcity’s cacophonous, freeform nonconformity, and Morast’s caustic claustrophobia, Lychgate forges an unforgiving yet layered experience that outstrips single reference points. Tensions runs roughshod throughout Precipice, knotting its nine tracks into gnarled enigmas that demand to be sussed out with care. Gone are the clean vocals from The Contagion in Nine Steps and An Antidote for the Glass Pill, and instead vocalist Greg Chandler focuses solely on barks and snarls that remind of Doug Moore’s urgent rasps. Atop it all, Lychgate further embeds the organ into the band’s core sound and discharges potent riffs at key climactic junctures, leaving Precipice crackling with vitality and unpredictability.

Precipice’s varied compositions and instrumentations coalesce to propel Lychgate to new heights. It’s a mature release that exemplifies the prevailing virtues of prior albums, unifying them into an impressively intricate forty-eight minutes. The organ, credited to permanent member J. C. Young and session musician F. A. Young, plays a central role, spanning the gamut from lunatic funhouse (“Anagnorisis”) to Phantom of the Opera gothic drama (“Mausoleum of Steel”). It keenly weaves a calculated stress, plying tension in ebbs and flows that cleverly and constantly push the album forward. Besides organ and piano, loose guitar structures regularly bleed into riffs plucked out of an eldritch ether, oscillating between Zappa’s Jazz from Hell and unearthly, pit-scorching acrobatics (“Renunciation”). A doleful, introspective melody in “The Meeting of Orion and Scorpio” diversifies the sound and pacing, followed by a hectic skittering in “Hive of Parasites” that gives way to a slow-burn passage heavily featuring jazz flute. Myriad components fuse into a whole that should not sound as cohesive as it does, but Lychgate takes their carnival of sounds and crafts a finely-honed album that deserves more attention than it will get with an end-of-year release.

Lychgate employs a satisfying and well-considered array of ideas in service of Precipice, though a few hiccups are present. Besides the musical diversity, Lychgate flaunts remarkable instincts when it comes to pacing. Having the longest track as the midpoint of the album works well and helps establish a clear listening milestone; I only wish the back end of “Hive of Parasites” had been trimmed a touch, as the last three minutes blur together. The mix is another boon, providing ample space for S. D. Lindsley’s guitar, Tom MacLean’s bass, and T. J. F. Vallely’s drums. The only quibble is Precipice’s density, which could put off those lacking the time to absorb its demure gifts. All told, though, Lychgate earns every bit of praise by merging this many ideas so cohesively.

Despite its late release and complex composition, Lychgate delivers a smash success that commands and indisputably warrants your attention. Precipice isn’t easy to understand, but it’s irresistibly easy to spin again and again. And you should, because it takes time to unravel.3 Precipice has been one of my most played albums of the year at a time when I’ve been busiest both personally and professionally, routinely ensnaring me with its enchanting hooks and wiles. For my money, Lychgate has released the best album of their career, and you owe it to yourself to step up to the Precipice and take a leap of faith.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Debemur Morti Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: December 19th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AvantGardeBlackMetal #BlackMetal #BlutAusNord #DebemurMortiProductions #Dec25 #Dödheimsgard #EnglishMetal #FrankZappa #ImperialTriumphant #Lychgate #Morast #Precipice #Review #Reviews

Lychgate – Precipice Review

By Grin Reaper

Dense, dark, and demented, Lychgate’s Precipice breaks nearly six years of silence with music as unsettling as the concept it’s built upon. The album’s primary inspiration draws from E. M. Forster’s short story “The Machine Stops,” a dystopian tale first published in 1909 that cautions against over-reliance on technology.1 In it, The Machine enables people to govern their lives from isolated chambers, interacting virtually rather than in person after the Earth’s surface becomes uninhabitable. Integrating notions such as blind obedience to technology, instantaneous communication, and climate change furnishes a lavish backdrop for London’s Lychgate and their fourth LP.2 Given the promise of its premise, does Precipice step off the ledge and soar, or plummet to the depths of obscurity?

Brandishing a broad array of atmospheres and a flair for generating tension, Lychgate conjures oppressive auras that equally frighten and excite. To that end, Precipice’s aural footprint lands somewhere between Blut aus Nord’s dissonant grooves and a decelerated Imperial Triumphant at their most cinematic (think “Transmission to Mercury”), taking the avant-garde trappings of each and devising a mood and character all Lychgate’s own. Emboldened by jazzy flourishes à la Dødheimsgard, Scarcity’s cacophonous, freeform nonconformity, and Morast’s caustic claustrophobia, Lychgate forges an unforgiving yet layered experience that outstrips single reference points. Tensions runs roughshod throughout Precipice, knotting its nine tracks into gnarled enigmas that demand to be sussed out with care. Gone are the clean vocals from The Contagion in Nine Steps and An Antidote for the Glass Pill, and instead vocalist Greg Chandler focuses solely on barks and snarls that remind of Doug Moore’s urgent rasps. Atop it all, Lychgate further embeds the organ into the band’s core sound and discharges potent riffs at key climactic junctures, leaving Precipice crackling with vitality and unpredictability.

Precipice’s varied compositions and instrumentations coalesce to propel Lychgate to new heights. It’s a mature release that exemplifies the prevailing virtues of prior albums, unifying them into an impressively intricate forty-eight minutes. The organ, credited to permanent member J. C. Young and session musician F. A. Young, plays a central role, spanning the gamut from lunatic funhouse (“Anagnorisis”) to Phantom of the Opera gothic drama (“Mausoleum of Steel”). It keenly weaves a calculated stress, plying tension in ebbs and flows that cleverly and constantly push the album forward. Besides organ and piano, loose guitar structures regularly bleed into riffs plucked out of an eldritch ether, oscillating between Zappa’s Jazz from Hell and unearthly, pit-scorching acrobatics (“Renunciation”). A doleful, introspective melody in “The Meeting of Orion and Scorpio” diversifies the sound and pacing, followed by a hectic skittering in “Hive of Parasites” that gives way to a slow-burn passage heavily featuring jazz flute. Myriad components fuse into a whole that should not sound as cohesive as it does, but Lychgate takes their carnival of sounds and crafts a finely-honed album that deserves more attention than it will get with an end-of-year release.

Lychgate employs a satisfying and well-considered array of ideas in service of Precipice, though a few hiccups are present. Besides the musical diversity, Lychgate flaunts remarkable instincts when it comes to pacing. Having the longest track as the midpoint of the album works well and helps establish a clear listening milestone; I only wish the back end of “Hive of Parasites” had been trimmed a touch, as the last three minutes blur together. The mix is another boon, providing ample space for S. D. Lindsley’s guitar, Tom MacLean’s bass, and T. J. F. Vallely’s drums. The only quibble is Precipice’s density, which could put off those lacking the time to absorb its demure gifts. All told, though, Lychgate earns every bit of praise by merging this many ideas so cohesively.

Despite its late release and complex composition, Lychgate delivers a smash success that commands and indisputably warrants your attention. Precipice isn’t easy to understand, but it’s irresistibly easy to spin again and again. And you should, because it takes time to unravel.3 Precipice has been one of my most played albums of the year at a time when I’ve been busiest both personally and professionally, routinely ensnaring me with its enchanting hooks and wiles. For my money, Lychgate has released the best album of their career, and you owe it to yourself to step up to the Precipice and take a leap of faith.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Debemur Morti Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: December 19th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AvantGardeBlackMetal #BlackMetal #BlutAusNord #DebemurMortiProductions #Dec25 #Dödheimsgard #EnglishMetal #FrankZappa #ImperialTriumphant #Lychgate #Morast #Precipice #Review #Reviews

Vandampire – Hope Scars Review

Post- historically implies an evolution of or successor to a previous idea (modernism, rock, structuralism, punk, hardcore, colonialism,…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2025 #DeadlyCarnage #EnglishMetal #Entertainment #ExplosionsintheSky #HopeScars #KowloonWalledCity #Mogwai #Oct25 #post-metal #review #Reviews #RipcordRecords #SludgeMetal #UK #UnitedKingdom #Vandampire
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/264759/

Vandampire – Hope Scars Review

By Spicie Forrest

Post- historically implies an evolution of or successor to a previous idea (modernism, rock, structuralism, punk, hardcore, colonialism, etc.). While a little nebulous, post-metal more or less riffs on the post-rock blueprint. It utilizes metal’s intense, abrasive instrumentation to create an emotional vulnerability that even the best power ballads fail to capture. There is a tenderness in its crushing weight, a sense of freedom and catharsis in its restraint. It is this corner of the metalverse that South West England-based Vandampire inhabits. Founded in 2018 and with two EPs1 under their belt, Hope Scars not only marks Vandampire’s debut full-length, but the official debut of their second guitarist, as well. Post-metal is a saturated field, though, and it’ll take a lot for Hope Scars to stand out in the crowd.

One thing I can say for certain is that Hope Scars stands head and shoulders above Vandampire’s previous EPs. Past releases certainly contained all the elements on display here, but Hope Scars sees Vandampire mixing those sounds in elegant fashion. Where once sludge and post-metal stood apart or minimally integrated, here they are inseparable, a cohesive whole. Crushing, abrasive guitars (Joseph Siddons, Matthew Billingham) dance and thrash over basslines (Michael Edmonds) three c’s thiccc. Drummer Mark Litchfield, rather than simply keeping time, enunciates and elevates his bandmates’ performances. The result is tonally sludgy, like Kowloon Walled City, but softened by the patient, thorough sensibilities of post-metal songcraft. In keeping with this description, Billingham utilizes hardcore shouts and screams, but is smartly pushed back in the mix, so his vocals feel more like an instrument than a focal point. His delivery occasionally fails to capitalize on Hope Scars’ more emotive landscape, but it’s generally well-suited to the style. The Vandampire of Hope Scars is unmistakably the Vandampire of early EPs, but the maturity and nuance on display here is astonishing by comparison.

As noted in their promo material, Vandampire’s core weapon is The Riff™, and Siddons and Billingham wield it well. They oscillate between stone and sludge with surprising dexterity, riffs effortlessly flowing from one to the next (“Ultralow,” “A Promise”). Vaunted lead guitars soar over a dense rhythm section (“Hope Scars,” “Let Ruin End Here”), reminding me of Explosions in the Sky and the erhu played on Deadly Carnage’s Endless Blue. Those leads are my favorite thing on the album, searingly bright amidst the sludge. Siddons and Billingham, in concert with Edmonds’ teeth-rattling bass and Litchfield’s lively and energetic drums, weave a spell both heavy and heartfelt, hopeful and tragic. Like a metal Mogwai, Vandampire ties your feet to a sinking anchor but always makes sure you can see light on the surface.

Vandampire’s evolved style on Hope Scars fails to avoid the bloated and poorly paced pitfalls of the genre. Hope Scars’ two interludes break the album into three digestible parts, but ultimately prove frustrating. “In Ascension” builds beautifully in the back half, but fades out and misses the opportunity to lead into “Eaves.” I enjoyed the Americana tone of “I Will Miss Everything I Forget,” but this is also a standalone, and at three minutes each, these interludes linger entirely too long for what they are. The biggest bloatual offenders, however, are “Eaves” and “Let Ruin End Here.” The former fades out halfway through its five-minute runtime, leaving me with ambient noises and muffled conversation that suggest they just…forgot to turn off the mic. The latter begins to wind down a full three minutes before the end of its 12-minute runtime and concludes with 80 seconds of bird sounds. All told, Hope Scars could stand to lose at least ten minutes.

Vandampire’s vast improvement over previous efforts and an instrumental section that’s absolutely locked in make for good, engaging music. There’s a lot of great playlist fodder on here, but playlist fodder doesn’t make a great album. Roughly a quarter of Hope Scars is fluff, and while some of it—the interludes—could have been better utilized, at least half of it just wastes time. Vandampire has come a long way since they started in 2018, and if Hope Scars proves anything, it’s that they have the chops to go much further. I’ll just have to wait until next time to see if they get there.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripcord Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025

#25 #2025 #deadlyCarnage #englishMetal #explosionsInTheSky #hopeScars #kowloonWalledCity #mogwai #oct25 #postMetal #review #reviews #ripcordRecords #sludgeMetal #vandampire

Vandampire – Hope Scars Review

By Spicie Forrest

Post- historically implies an evolution of or successor to a previous idea (modernism, rock, structuralism, punk, hardcore, colonialism, etc.). While a little nebulous, post-metal more or less riffs on the post-rock blueprint. It utilizes metal’s intense, abrasive instrumentation to create an emotional vulnerability that even the best power ballads fail to capture. There is a tenderness in its crushing weight, a sense of freedom and catharsis in its restraint. It is this corner of the metalverse that South West England-based Vandampire inhabits. Founded in 2018 and with two EPs1 under their belt, Hope Scars not only marks Vandampire’s debut full-length, but the official debut of their second guitarist, as well. Post-metal is a saturated field, though, and it’ll take a lot for Hope Scars to stand out in the crowd.

One thing I can say for certain is that Hope Scars stands head and shoulders above Vandampire’s previous EPs. Past releases certainly contained all the elements on display here, but Hope Scars sees Vandampire mixing those sounds in elegant fashion. Where once sludge and post-metal stood apart or minimally integrated, here they are inseparable, a cohesive whole. Crushing, abrasive guitars (Joseph Siddons, Matthew Billingham) dance and thrash over basslines (Michael Edmonds) three c’s thiccc. Drummer Mark Litchfield, rather than simply keeping time, enunciates and elevates his bandmates’ performances. The result is tonally sludgy, like Kowloon Walled City, but softened by the patient, thorough sensibilities of post-metal songcraft. In keeping with this description, Billingham utilizes hardcore shouts and screams, but is smartly pushed back in the mix, so his vocals feel more like an instrument than a focal point. His delivery occasionally fails to capitalize on Hope Scars’ more emotive landscape, but it’s generally well-suited to the style. The Vandampire of Hope Scars is unmistakably the Vandampire of early EPs, but the maturity and nuance on display here is astonishing by comparison.

As noted in their promo material, Vandampire’s core weapon is The Riff™, and Siddons and Billingham wield it well. They oscillate between stone and sludge with surprising dexterity, riffs effortlessly flowing from one to the next (“Ultralow,” “A Promise”). Vaunted lead guitars soar over a dense rhythm section (“Hope Scars,” “Let Ruin End Here”), reminding me of Explosions in the Sky and the erhu played on Deadly Carnage’s Endless Blue. Those leads are my favorite thing on the album, searingly bright amidst the sludge. Siddons and Billingham, in concert with Edmonds’ teeth-rattling bass and Litchfield’s lively and energetic drums, weave a spell both heavy and heartfelt, hopeful and tragic. Like a metal Mogwai, Vandampire ties your feet to a sinking anchor but always makes sure you can see light on the surface.

Vandampire’s evolved style on Hope Scars fails to avoid the bloated and poorly paced pitfalls of the genre. Hope Scars’ two interludes break the album into three digestible parts, but ultimately prove frustrating. “In Ascension” builds beautifully in the back half, but fades out and misses the opportunity to lead into “Eaves.” I enjoyed the Americana tone of “I Will Miss Everything I Forget,” but this is also a standalone, and at three minutes each, these interludes linger entirely too long for what they are. The biggest bloatual offenders, however, are “Eaves” and “Let Ruin End Here.” The former fades out halfway through its five-minute runtime, leaving me with ambient noises and muffled conversation that suggest they just…forgot to turn off the mic. The latter begins to wind down a full three minutes before the end of its 12-minute runtime and concludes with 80 seconds of bird sounds. All told, Hope Scars could stand to lose at least ten minutes.

Vandampire’s vast improvement over previous efforts and an instrumental section that’s absolutely locked in make for good, engaging music. There’s a lot of great playlist fodder on here, but playlist fodder doesn’t make a great album. Roughly a quarter of Hope Scars is fluff, and while some of it—the interludes—could have been better utilized, at least half of it just wastes time. Vandampire has come a long way since they started in 2018, and if Hope Scars proves anything, it’s that they have the chops to go much further. I’ll just have to wait until next time to see if they get there.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripcord Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025

#25 #2025 #deadlyCarnage #englishMetal #explosionsInTheSky #hopeScars #kowloonWalledCity #mogwai #oct25 #postMetal #review #reviews #ripcordRecords #sludgeMetal #vandampire

Vandampire – Hope Scars Review

By Spicie Forrest

Post- historically implies an evolution of or successor to a previous idea (modernism, rock, structuralism, punk, hardcore, colonialism, etc.). While a little nebulous, post-metal more or less riffs on the post-rock blueprint. It utilizes metal’s intense, abrasive instrumentation to create an emotional vulnerability that even the best power ballads fail to capture. There is a tenderness in its crushing weight, a sense of freedom and catharsis in its restraint. It is this corner of the metalverse that South West England-based Vandampire inhabits. Founded in 2018 and with two EPs1 under their belt, Hope Scars not only marks Vandampire’s debut full-length, but the official debut of their second guitarist, as well. Post-metal is a saturated field, though, and it’ll take a lot for Hope Scars to stand out in the crowd.

One thing I can say for certain is that Hope Scars stands head and shoulders above Vandampire’s previous EPs. Past releases certainly contained all the elements on display here, but Hope Scars sees Vandampire mixing those sounds in elegant fashion. Where once sludge and post-metal stood apart or minimally integrated, here they are inseparable, a cohesive whole. Crushing, abrasive guitars (Joseph Siddons, Matthew Billingham) dance and thrash over basslines (Michael Edmonds) three c’s thiccc. Drummer Mark Litchfield, rather than simply keeping time, enunciates and elevates his bandmates’ performances. The result is tonally sludgy, like Kowloon Walled City, but softened by the patient, thorough sensibilities of post-metal songcraft. In keeping with this description, Billingham utilizes hardcore shouts and screams, but is smartly pushed back in the mix, so his vocals feel more like an instrument than a focal point. His delivery occasionally fails to capitalize on Hope Scars’ more emotive landscape, but it’s generally well-suited to the style. The Vandampire of Hope Scars is unmistakably the Vandampire of early EPs, but the maturity and nuance on display here is astonishing by comparison.

As noted in their promo material, Vandampire’s core weapon is The Riff™, and Siddons and Billingham wield it well. They oscillate between stone and sludge with surprising dexterity, riffs effortlessly flowing from one to the next (“Ultralow,” “A Promise”). Vaunted lead guitars soar over a dense rhythm section (“Hope Scars,” “Let Ruin End Here”), reminding me of Explosions in the Sky and the erhu played on Deadly Carnage’s Endless Blue. Those leads are my favorite thing on the album, searingly bright amidst the sludge. Siddons and Billingham, in concert with Edmonds’ teeth-rattling bass and Litchfield’s lively and energetic drums, weave a spell both heavy and heartfelt, hopeful and tragic. Like a metal Mogwai, Vandampire ties your feet to a sinking anchor but always makes sure you can see light on the surface.

Vandampire’s evolved style on Hope Scars fails to avoid the bloated and poorly paced pitfalls of the genre. Hope Scars’ two interludes break the album into three digestible parts, but ultimately prove frustrating. “In Ascension” builds beautifully in the back half, but fades out and misses the opportunity to lead into “Eaves.” I enjoyed the Americana tone of “I Will Miss Everything I Forget,” but this is also a standalone, and at three minutes each, these interludes linger entirely too long for what they are. The biggest bloatual offenders, however, are “Eaves” and “Let Ruin End Here.” The former fades out halfway through its five-minute runtime, leaving me with ambient noises and muffled conversation that suggest they just…forgot to turn off the mic. The latter begins to wind down a full three minutes before the end of its 12-minute runtime and concludes with 80 seconds of bird sounds. All told, Hope Scars could stand to lose at least ten minutes.

Vandampire’s vast improvement over previous efforts and an instrumental section that’s absolutely locked in make for good, engaging music. There’s a lot of great playlist fodder on here, but playlist fodder doesn’t make a great album. Roughly a quarter of Hope Scars is fluff, and while some of it—the interludes—could have been better utilized, at least half of it just wastes time. Vandampire has come a long way since they started in 2018, and if Hope Scars proves anything, it’s that they have the chops to go much further. I’ll just have to wait until next time to see if they get there.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripcord Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025

#25 #2025 #deadlyCarnage #englishMetal #explosionsInTheSky #hopeScars #kowloonWalledCity #mogwai #oct25 #postMetal #review #reviews #ripcordRecords #sludgeMetal #vandampire

Vandampire – Hope Scars Review

By Spicie Forrest

Post- historically implies an evolution of or successor to a previous idea (modernism, rock, structuralism, punk, hardcore, colonialism, etc.). While a little nebulous, post-metal more or less riffs on the post-rock blueprint. It utilizes metal’s intense, abrasive instrumentation to create an emotional vulnerability that even the best power ballads fail to capture. There is a tenderness in its crushing weight, a sense of freedom and catharsis in its restraint. It is this corner of the metalverse that South West England-based Vandampire inhabits. Founded in 2018 and with two EPs1 under their belt, Hope Scars not only marks Vandampire’s debut full-length, but the official debut of their second guitarist, as well. Post-metal is a saturated field, though, and it’ll take a lot for Hope Scars to stand out in the crowd.

One thing I can say for certain is that Hope Scars stands head and shoulders above Vandampire’s previous EPs. Past releases certainly contained all the elements on display here, but Hope Scars sees Vandampire mixing those sounds in elegant fashion. Where once sludge and post-metal stood apart or minimally integrated, here they are inseparable, a cohesive whole. Crushing, abrasive guitars (Joseph Siddons, Matthew Billingham) dance and thrash over basslines (Michael Edmonds) three c’s thiccc. Drummer Mark Litchfield, rather than simply keeping time, enunciates and elevates his bandmates’ performances. The result is tonally sludgy, like Kowloon Walled City, but softened by the patient, thorough sensibilities of post-metal songcraft. In keeping with this description, Billingham utilizes hardcore shouts and screams, but is smartly pushed back in the mix, so his vocals feel more like an instrument than a focal point. His delivery occasionally fails to capitalize on Hope Scars’ more emotive landscape, but it’s generally well-suited to the style. The Vandampire of Hope Scars is unmistakably the Vandampire of early EPs, but the maturity and nuance on display here is astonishing by comparison.

As noted in their promo material, Vandampire’s core weapon is The Riff™, and Siddons and Billingham wield it well. They oscillate between stone and sludge with surprising dexterity, riffs effortlessly flowing from one to the next (“Ultralow,” “A Promise”). Vaunted lead guitars soar over a dense rhythm section (“Hope Scars,” “Let Ruin End Here”), reminding me of Explosions in the Sky and the erhu played on Deadly Carnage’s Endless Blue. Those leads are my favorite thing on the album, searingly bright amidst the sludge. Siddons and Billingham, in concert with Edmonds’ teeth-rattling bass and Litchfield’s lively and energetic drums, weave a spell both heavy and heartfelt, hopeful and tragic. Like a metal Mogwai, Vandampire ties your feet to a sinking anchor but always makes sure you can see light on the surface.

Vandampire’s evolved style on Hope Scars fails to avoid the bloated and poorly paced pitfalls of the genre. Hope Scars’ two interludes break the album into three digestible parts, but ultimately prove frustrating. “In Ascension” builds beautifully in the back half, but fades out and misses the opportunity to lead into “Eaves.” I enjoyed the Americana tone of “I Will Miss Everything I Forget,” but this is also a standalone, and at three minutes each, these interludes linger entirely too long for what they are. The biggest bloatual offenders, however, are “Eaves” and “Let Ruin End Here.” The former fades out halfway through its five-minute runtime, leaving me with ambient noises and muffled conversation that suggest they just…forgot to turn off the mic. The latter begins to wind down a full three minutes before the end of its 12-minute runtime and concludes with 80 seconds of bird sounds. All told, Hope Scars could stand to lose at least ten minutes.

Vandampire’s vast improvement over previous efforts and an instrumental section that’s absolutely locked in make for good, engaging music. There’s a lot of great playlist fodder on here, but playlist fodder doesn’t make a great album. Roughly a quarter of Hope Scars is fluff, and while some of it—the interludes—could have been better utilized, at least half of it just wastes time. Vandampire has come a long way since they started in 2018, and if Hope Scars proves anything, it’s that they have the chops to go much further. I’ll just have to wait until next time to see if they get there.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripcord Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025

#25 #2025 #deadlyCarnage #englishMetal #explosionsInTheSky #hopeScars #kowloonWalledCity #mogwai #oct25 #postMetal #review #reviews #ripcordRecords #sludgeMetal #vandampire

Vandampire – Hope Scars Review

By Spicie Forrest

Post- historically implies an evolution of or successor to a previous idea (modernism, rock, structuralism, punk, hardcore, colonialism, etc.). While a little nebulous, post-metal more or less riffs on the post-rock blueprint. It utilizes metal’s intense, abrasive instrumentation to create an emotional vulnerability that even the best power ballads fail to capture. There is a tenderness in its crushing weight, a sense of freedom and catharsis in its restraint. It is this corner of the metalverse that South West England-based Vandampire inhabits. Founded in 2018 and with two EPs1 under their belt, Hope Scars not only marks Vandampire’s debut full-length, but the official debut of their second guitarist, as well. Post-metal is a saturated field, though, and it’ll take a lot for Hope Scars to stand out in the crowd.

One thing I can say for certain is that Hope Scars stands head and shoulders above Vandampire’s previous EPs. Past releases certainly contained all the elements on display here, but Hope Scars sees Vandampire mixing those sounds in elegant fashion. Where once sludge and post-metal stood apart or minimally integrated, here they are inseparable, a cohesive whole. Crushing, abrasive guitars (Joseph Siddons, Matthew Billingham) dance and thrash over basslines (Michael Edmonds) three c’s thiccc. Drummer Mark Litchfield, rather than simply keeping time, enunciates and elevates his bandmates’ performances. The result is tonally sludgy, like Kowloon Walled City, but softened by the patient, thorough sensibilities of post-metal songcraft. In keeping with this description, Billingham utilizes hardcore shouts and screams, but is smartly pushed back in the mix, so his vocals feel more like an instrument than a focal point. His delivery occasionally fails to capitalize on Hope Scars’ more emotive landscape, but it’s generally well-suited to the style. The Vandampire of Hope Scars is unmistakably the Vandampire of early EPs, but the maturity and nuance on display here is astonishing by comparison.

As noted in their promo material, Vandampire’s core weapon is The Riff™, and Siddons and Billingham wield it well. They oscillate between stone and sludge with surprising dexterity, riffs effortlessly flowing from one to the next (“Ultralow,” “A Promise”). Vaunted lead guitars soar over a dense rhythm section (“Hope Scars,” “Let Ruin End Here”), reminding me of Explosions in the Sky and the erhu played on Deadly Carnage’s Endless Blue. Those leads are my favorite thing on the album, searingly bright amidst the sludge. Siddons and Billingham, in concert with Edmonds’ teeth-rattling bass and Litchfield’s lively and energetic drums, weave a spell both heavy and heartfelt, hopeful and tragic. Like a metal Mogwai, Vandampire ties your feet to a sinking anchor but always makes sure you can see light on the surface.

Vandampire’s evolved style on Hope Scars fails to avoid the bloated and poorly paced pitfalls of the genre. Hope Scars’ two interludes break the album into three digestible parts, but ultimately prove frustrating. “In Ascension” builds beautifully in the back half, but fades out and misses the opportunity to lead into “Eaves.” I enjoyed the Americana tone of “I Will Miss Everything I Forget,” but this is also a standalone, and at three minutes each, these interludes linger entirely too long for what they are. The biggest bloatual offenders, however, are “Eaves” and “Let Ruin End Here.” The former fades out halfway through its five-minute runtime, leaving me with ambient noises and muffled conversation that suggest they just…forgot to turn off the mic. The latter begins to wind down a full three minutes before the end of its 12-minute runtime and concludes with 80 seconds of bird sounds. All told, Hope Scars could stand to lose at least ten minutes.

Vandampire’s vast improvement over previous efforts and an instrumental section that’s absolutely locked in make for good, engaging music. There’s a lot of great playlist fodder on here, but playlist fodder doesn’t make a great album. Roughly a quarter of Hope Scars is fluff, and while some of it—the interludes—could have been better utilized, at least half of it just wastes time. Vandampire has come a long way since they started in 2018, and if Hope Scars proves anything, it’s that they have the chops to go much further. I’ll just have to wait until next time to see if they get there.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripcord Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025

#25 #2025 #deadlyCarnage #englishMetal #explosionsInTheSky #hopeScars #kowloonWalledCity #mogwai #oct25 #postMetal #review #reviews #ripcordRecords #sludgeMetal #vandampire

Wode – Uncrossing the Keys Review

By ClarkKent

In neither of his two prior Wode reviews did El Cuervo pose the question, what is a wode, outside of being fodder for bad puns? A trip to Wiktionary tells me that it is a term related to rage, insanity, rabidness, and the like. Listening to Wode’s now four full-length albums, that definition feels right; their music does sometimes take on characteristics of frantic madness. Wode took the underground metal world by storm when they released their eponymous debut in 2016 and they have only grown their fan base since then. Though El Cuervo began to sour on them with Burn in Many Mirrors, it was a top seller for 20 Buck Spin in 2021. Four years later Wode now release the successor, Uncrossing the Keys, to anxiously excited fans. The question I pose is this: wode you like to find out if it was worth the wait?

The way it starts off, Uncrossing the Keys promises to be a rollicking good time. Following the sounds of keys unlocking an obnoxiously loud door, “Two Crossed Keys” gets things going with one hell of a catchy melodic lead. Coupled with up-tempo blast beats and great riffs, this opener is just plain fun. Follow-up “Under Lanternlight” continues the hot streak with a similarly catchy, but distinctive, melodic riff and tons of energy. This song shows off Wode’s dynamism with a more winding structure, but they make sure to return to their hooks before it’s over. One of El Cuervo’s main critiques of the preceding album was a lack of strong hooks, and right off the bat, Wode seek to remedy that. If only they had kept going this route, we’d be talking about a great album. As it stands, they move away from the melodic route and take off-ramps to many other styles. This other stuff isn’t bad, but it doesn’t reach the heights of the first two songs.

Wode sounds more complex than they seem on the surface. It’s not all aggressive black in the vein of Sarastus. They also play a fair amount of post-metal with dreamy passages, as well as some doom. The doom works pretty well, evoking Paradise Lost without reaching the quality of their most recent output (“Transmutation,” “Prisoner of the Moon”). These tracks convey a mournful melodicism but don’t stray far from Wode’s characteristic sound. On the less melodic side lies the more dynamic post-metal material. These tracks, which tend to be on the longer side, take twists and turns using tempo shifts and elaborate dual guitar riffs (“Saturn Shadow,” “Lash of the Tyrant”). Even though these songs lack the hooks of the early tracks, the reverb on the guitar and the singer’s unique vocal style provide ample atmosphere. Depending on what it is you like from your black metal, Uncrossing the Keys has a mix that’s sure to either delight or frustrate.

For my tastes, I found this a frustrating listen. Wode made a poor decision in following up their two catchiest tunes with perhaps the most meandering, least hook-y number, “Saturn Shadow,” killing the momentum. At 42 minutes, Uncrossing the Keys is not much longer than its predecessor, but it still feels too long. It doesn’t help that the longest tracks are also the least grounded, and their instrumental wandering makes it easy to feel lost. Add in some pointless musical passages, like the instrumental “Phantom,” and poorly done song intros that take too long to get to the goods (“Dashed on the Rocks”), and Uncrossing the Keys often feels like instrumentation in search of a song. Even when Wode does find killer hooks, they sometimes abandon them early on (“Dashed on the Rocks,” “Fiery End”). It’s as though this black/traditional band has an aversion towards traditional song structures.

I say all of this out of love because I really enjoy a lot of what Wode does here. “Two Crossed Keys” and “Under Lanternlight” are some of my favorite songs of the year. As a whole, Uncrossing the Keys fails to hold up on close listens, and even when listening to it in the background, you get the sense of a discernible drop in the second half. I suspect that if you admired Burn in Many Mirrors, you’ll also enjoy this. At its best, this one outshines its predecessor, but it also struggles with Wode’s inability to lock in their hooks. It’s a shame—these guys are great riffsmiths when they put their minds to it. More focused songwriting could push them to the next level.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: 20 Buck Spin
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 3rd, 2025

#25 #20BuckSpin #2025 #BlackMetal #DoomMetal #EnglishMetal #Oct25 #ParadiseLost #Review #Reviews #Sarastus #UncrossingTheKeys #Wode

Wode – Uncrossing the Keys Review

By ClarkKent

In neither of his two prior Wode reviews did El Cuervo pose the question, what is a wode, outside of being fodder for bad puns? A trip to Wiktionary tells me that it is a term related to rage, insanity, rabidness, and the like. Listening to Wode’s now four full-length albums, that definition feels right; their music does sometimes take on characteristics of frantic madness. Wode took the underground metal world by storm when they released their eponymous debut in 2016 and they have only grown their fan base since then. Though El Cuervo began to sour on them with Burn in Many Mirrors, it was a top seller for 20 Buck Spin in 2021. Four years later Wode now release the successor, Uncrossing the Keys, to anxiously excited fans. The question I pose is this: wode you like to find out if it was worth the wait?

The way it starts off, Uncrossing the Keys promises to be a rollicking good time. Following the sounds of keys unlocking an obnoxiously loud door, “Two Crossed Keys” gets things going with one hell of a catchy melodic lead. Coupled with up-tempo blast beats and great riffs, this opener is just plain fun. Follow-up “Under Lanternlight” continues the hot streak with a similarly catchy, but distinctive, melodic riff and tons of energy. This song shows off Wode’s dynamism with a more winding structure, but they make sure to return to their hooks before it’s over. One of El Cuervo’s main critiques of the preceding album was a lack of strong hooks, and right off the bat, Wode seek to remedy that. If only they had kept going this route, we’d be talking about a great album. As it stands, they move away from the melodic route and take off-ramps to many other styles. This other stuff isn’t bad, but it doesn’t reach the heights of the first two songs.

Wode sounds more complex than they seem on the surface. It’s not all aggressive black in the vein of Sarastus. They also play a fair amount of post-metal with dreamy passages, as well as some doom. The doom works pretty well, evoking Paradise Lost without reaching the quality of their most recent output (“Transmutation,” “Prisoner of the Moon”). These tracks convey a mournful melodicism but don’t stray far from Wode’s characteristic sound. On the less melodic side lies the more dynamic post-metal material. These tracks, which tend to be on the longer side, take twists and turns using tempo shifts and elaborate dual guitar riffs (“Saturn Shadow,” “Lash of the Tyrant”). Even though these songs lack the hooks of the early tracks, the reverb on the guitar and the singer’s unique vocal style provide ample atmosphere. Depending on what it is you like from your black metal, Uncrossing the Keys has a mix that’s sure to either delight or frustrate.

For my tastes, I found this a frustrating listen. Wode made a poor decision in following up their two catchiest tunes with perhaps the most meandering, least hook-y number, “Saturn Shadow,” killing the momentum. At 42 minutes, Uncrossing the Keys is not much longer than its predecessor, but it still feels too long. It doesn’t help that the longest tracks are also the least grounded, and their instrumental wandering makes it easy to feel lost. Add in some pointless musical passages, like the instrumental “Phantom,” and poorly done song intros that take too long to get to the goods (“Dashed on the Rocks”), and Uncrossing the Keys often feels like instrumentation in search of a song. Even when Wode does find killer hooks, they sometimes abandon them early on (“Dashed on the Rocks,” “Fiery End”). It’s as though this black/traditional band has an aversion towards traditional song structures.

I say all of this out of love because I really enjoy a lot of what Wode does here. “Two Crossed Keys” and “Under Lanternlight” are some of my favorite songs of the year. As a whole, Uncrossing the Keys fails to hold up on close listens, and even when listening to it in the background, you get the sense of a discernible drop in the second half. I suspect that if you admired Burn in Many Mirrors, you’ll also enjoy this. At its best, this one outshines its predecessor, but it also struggles with Wode’s inability to lock in their hooks. It’s a shame—these guys are great riffsmiths when they put their minds to it. More focused songwriting could push them to the next level.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: 20 Buck Spin
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 3rd, 2025

#25 #20BuckSpin #2025 #BlackMetal #DoomMetal #EnglishMetal #Oct25 #ParadiseLost #Review #Reviews #Sarastus #UncrossingTheKeys #Wode

Wode – Uncrossing the Keys Review

By ClarkKent

In neither of his two prior Wode reviews did El Cuervo pose the question, what is a wode, outside of being fodder for bad puns? A trip to Wiktionary tells me that it is a term related to rage, insanity, rabidness, and the like. Listening to Wode’s now four full-length albums, that definition feels right; their music does sometimes take on characteristics of frantic madness. Wode took the underground metal world by storm when they released their eponymous debut in 2016 and they have only grown their fan base since then. Though El Cuervo began to sour on them with Burn in Many Mirrors, it was a top seller for 20 Buck Spin in 2021. Four years later Wode now release the successor, Uncrossing the Keys, to anxiously excited fans. The question I pose is this: wode you like to find out if it was worth the wait?

The way it starts off, Uncrossing the Keys promises to be a rollicking good time. Following the sounds of keys unlocking an obnoxiously loud door, “Two Crossed Keys” gets things going with one hell of a catchy melodic lead. Coupled with up-tempo blast beats and great riffs, this opener is just plain fun. Follow-up “Under Lanternlight” continues the hot streak with a similarly catchy, but distinctive, melodic riff and tons of energy. This song shows off Wode’s dynamism with a more winding structure, but they make sure to return to their hooks before it’s over. One of El Cuervo’s main critiques of the preceding album was a lack of strong hooks, and right off the bat, Wode seek to remedy that. If only they had kept going this route, we’d be talking about a great album. As it stands, they move away from the melodic route and take off-ramps to many other styles. This other stuff isn’t bad, but it doesn’t reach the heights of the first two songs.

Wode sounds more complex than they seem on the surface. It’s not all aggressive black in the vein of Sarastus. They also play a fair amount of post-metal with dreamy passages, as well as some doom. The doom works pretty well, evoking Paradise Lost without reaching the quality of their most recent output (“Transmutation,” “Prisoner of the Moon”). These tracks convey a mournful melodicism but don’t stray far from Wode’s characteristic sound. On the less melodic side lies the more dynamic post-metal material. These tracks, which tend to be on the longer side, take twists and turns using tempo shifts and elaborate dual guitar riffs (“Saturn Shadow,” “Lash of the Tyrant”). Even though these songs lack the hooks of the early tracks, the reverb on the guitar and the singer’s unique vocal style provide ample atmosphere. Depending on what it is you like from your black metal, Uncrossing the Keys has a mix that’s sure to either delight or frustrate.

For my tastes, I found this a frustrating listen. Wode made a poor decision in following up their two catchiest tunes with perhaps the most meandering, least hook-y number, “Saturn Shadow,” killing the momentum. At 42 minutes, Uncrossing the Keys is not much longer than its predecessor, but it still feels too long. It doesn’t help that the longest tracks are also the least grounded, and their instrumental wandering makes it easy to feel lost. Add in some pointless musical passages, like the instrumental “Phantom,” and poorly done song intros that take too long to get to the goods (“Dashed on the Rocks”), and Uncrossing the Keys often feels like instrumentation in search of a song. Even when Wode does find killer hooks, they sometimes abandon them early on (“Dashed on the Rocks,” “Fiery End”). It’s as though this black/traditional band has an aversion towards traditional song structures.

I say all of this out of love because I really enjoy a lot of what Wode does here. “Two Crossed Keys” and “Under Lanternlight” are some of my favorite songs of the year. As a whole, Uncrossing the Keys fails to hold up on close listens, and even when listening to it in the background, you get the sense of a discernible drop in the second half. I suspect that if you admired Burn in Many Mirrors, you’ll also enjoy this. At its best, this one outshines its predecessor, but it also struggles with Wode’s inability to lock in their hooks. It’s a shame—these guys are great riffsmiths when they put their minds to it. More focused songwriting could push them to the next level.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: 20 Buck Spin
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 3rd, 2025

#25 #20BuckSpin #2025 #BlackMetal #DoomMetal #EnglishMetal #Oct25 #ParadiseLost #Review #Reviews #Sarastus #UncrossingTheKeys #Wode

Wode – Uncrossing the Keys Review

By ClarkKent

In neither of his two prior Wode reviews did El Cuervo pose the question, what is a wode, outside of being fodder for bad puns? A trip to Wiktionary tells me that it is a term related to rage, insanity, rabidness, and the like. Listening to Wode’s now four full-length albums, that definition feels right; their music does sometimes take on characteristics of frantic madness. Wode took the underground metal world by storm when they released their eponymous debut in 2016 and they have only grown their fan base since then. Though El Cuervo began to sour on them with Burn in Many Mirrors, it was a top seller for 20 Buck Spin in 2021. Four years later Wode now release the successor, Uncrossing the Keys, to anxiously excited fans. The question I pose is this: wode you like to find out if it was worth the wait?

The way it starts off, Uncrossing the Keys promises to be a rollicking good time. Following the sounds of keys unlocking an obnoxiously loud door, “Two Crossed Keys” gets things going with one hell of a catchy melodic lead. Coupled with up-tempo blast beats and great riffs, this opener is just plain fun. Follow-up “Under Lanternlight” continues the hot streak with a similarly catchy, but distinctive, melodic riff and tons of energy. This song shows off Wode’s dynamism with a more winding structure, but they make sure to return to their hooks before it’s over. One of El Cuervo’s main critiques of the preceding album was a lack of strong hooks, and right off the bat, Wode seek to remedy that. If only they had kept going this route, we’d be talking about a great album. As it stands, they move away from the melodic route and take off-ramps to many other styles. This other stuff isn’t bad, but it doesn’t reach the heights of the first two songs.

Wode sounds more complex than they seem on the surface. It’s not all aggressive black in the vein of Sarastus. They also play a fair amount of post-metal with dreamy passages, as well as some doom. The doom works pretty well, evoking Paradise Lost without reaching the quality of their most recent output (“Transmutation,” “Prisoner of the Moon”). These tracks convey a mournful melodicism but don’t stray far from Wode’s characteristic sound. On the less melodic side lies the more dynamic post-metal material. These tracks, which tend to be on the longer side, take twists and turns using tempo shifts and elaborate dual guitar riffs (“Saturn Shadow,” “Lash of the Tyrant”). Even though these songs lack the hooks of the early tracks, the reverb on the guitar and the singer’s unique vocal style provide ample atmosphere. Depending on what it is you like from your black metal, Uncrossing the Keys has a mix that’s sure to either delight or frustrate.

For my tastes, I found this a frustrating listen. Wode made a poor decision in following up their two catchiest tunes with perhaps the most meandering, least hook-y number, “Saturn Shadow,” killing the momentum. At 42 minutes, Uncrossing the Keys is not much longer than its predecessor, but it still feels too long. It doesn’t help that the longest tracks are also the least grounded, and their instrumental wandering makes it easy to feel lost. Add in some pointless musical passages, like the instrumental “Phantom,” and poorly done song intros that take too long to get to the goods (“Dashed on the Rocks”), and Uncrossing the Keys often feels like instrumentation in search of a song. Even when Wode does find killer hooks, they sometimes abandon them early on (“Dashed on the Rocks,” “Fiery End”). It’s as though this black/traditional band has an aversion towards traditional song structures.

I say all of this out of love because I really enjoy a lot of what Wode does here. “Two Crossed Keys” and “Under Lanternlight” are some of my favorite songs of the year. As a whole, Uncrossing the Keys fails to hold up on close listens, and even when listening to it in the background, you get the sense of a discernible drop in the second half. I suspect that if you admired Burn in Many Mirrors, you’ll also enjoy this. At its best, this one outshines its predecessor, but it also struggles with Wode’s inability to lock in their hooks. It’s a shame—these guys are great riffsmiths when they put their minds to it. More focused songwriting could push them to the next level.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: 20 Buck Spin
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 3rd, 2025

#25 #20BuckSpin #2025 #BlackMetal #DoomMetal #EnglishMetal #Oct25 #ParadiseLost #Review #Reviews #Sarastus #UncrossingTheKeys #Wode

Wode – Uncrossing the Keys Review

By ClarkKent

In neither of his two prior Wode reviews did El Cuervo pose the question, what is a wode, outside of being fodder for bad puns? A trip to Wiktionary tells me that it is a term related to rage, insanity, rabidness, and the like. Listening to Wode’s now four full-length albums, that definition feels right; their music does sometimes take on characteristics of frantic madness. Wode took the underground metal world by storm when they released their eponymous debut in 2016 and they have only grown their fan base since then. Though El Cuervo began to sour on them with Burn in Many Mirrors, it was a top seller for 20 Buck Spin in 2021. Four years later Wode now release the successor, Uncrossing the Keys, to anxiously excited fans. The question I pose is this: wode you like to find out if it was worth the wait?

The way it starts off, Uncrossing the Keys promises to be a rollicking good time. Following the sounds of keys unlocking an obnoxiously loud door, “Two Crossed Keys” gets things going with one hell of a catchy melodic lead. Coupled with up-tempo blast beats and great riffs, this opener is just plain fun. Follow-up “Under Lanternlight” continues the hot streak with a similarly catchy, but distinctive, melodic riff and tons of energy. This song shows off Wode’s dynamism with a more winding structure, but they make sure to return to their hooks before it’s over. One of El Cuervo’s main critiques of the preceding album was a lack of strong hooks, and right off the bat, Wode seek to remedy that. If only they had kept going this route, we’d be talking about a great album. As it stands, they move away from the melodic route and take off-ramps to many other styles. This other stuff isn’t bad, but it doesn’t reach the heights of the first two songs.

Wode sounds more complex than they seem on the surface. It’s not all aggressive black in the vein of Sarastus. They also play a fair amount of post-metal with dreamy passages, as well as some doom. The doom works pretty well, evoking Paradise Lost without reaching the quality of their most recent output (“Transmutation,” “Prisoner of the Moon”). These tracks convey a mournful melodicism but don’t stray far from Wode’s characteristic sound. On the less melodic side lies the more dynamic post-metal material. These tracks, which tend to be on the longer side, take twists and turns using tempo shifts and elaborate dual guitar riffs (“Saturn Shadow,” “Lash of the Tyrant”). Even though these songs lack the hooks of the early tracks, the reverb on the guitar and the singer’s unique vocal style provide ample atmosphere. Depending on what it is you like from your black metal, Uncrossing the Keys has a mix that’s sure to either delight or frustrate.

For my tastes, I found this a frustrating listen. Wode made a poor decision in following up their two catchiest tunes with perhaps the most meandering, least hook-y number, “Saturn Shadow,” killing the momentum. At 42 minutes, Uncrossing the Keys is not much longer than its predecessor, but it still feels too long. It doesn’t help that the longest tracks are also the least grounded, and their instrumental wandering makes it easy to feel lost. Add in some pointless musical passages, like the instrumental “Phantom,” and poorly done song intros that take too long to get to the goods (“Dashed on the Rocks”), and Uncrossing the Keys often feels like instrumentation in search of a song. Even when Wode does find killer hooks, they sometimes abandon them early on (“Dashed on the Rocks,” “Fiery End”). It’s as though this black/traditional band has an aversion towards traditional song structures.

I say all of this out of love because I really enjoy a lot of what Wode does here. “Two Crossed Keys” and “Under Lanternlight” are some of my favorite songs of the year. As a whole, Uncrossing the Keys fails to hold up on close listens, and even when listening to it in the background, you get the sense of a discernible drop in the second half. I suspect that if you admired Burn in Many Mirrors, you’ll also enjoy this. At its best, this one outshines its predecessor, but it also struggles with Wode’s inability to lock in their hooks. It’s a shame—these guys are great riffsmiths when they put their minds to it. More focused songwriting could push them to the next level.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: 20 Buck Spin
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 3rd, 2025

#25 #20BuckSpin #2025 #BlackMetal #DoomMetal #EnglishMetal #Oct25 #ParadiseLost #Review #Reviews #Sarastus #UncrossingTheKeys #Wode

NECROMANIAC – Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable Review

By Tyme

Having toiled and troubled over a bubbling cauldron for the past thirteen years, London, England’s Necromaniac, is finally prepared to cast the spell of its debut album Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable.1 A multi-national coven consisting of musicians from Sweden, Spain, Greece, and Poland, Necromaniac are self-described practitioners of “morbid metal.” After 2015’s promising and well-received demo Morbid Metal dropped, in addition to 2018’s mini-EP Subterranean Death Rising, Invictus Productions signed on in 2024 to release Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable, promising listeners “A truly sinister musical journey containing nine forbidden rites steeped in witchcraft, necromancy and an overall occult and utterly macabre atmosphere.” So I wondered, is this pricking in my thumbs a sign that something wicked this way comes, or is Necromaniac‘s witchery nothing more than parlor tricks?

An elixir of blackened death and thrash, with synth-sprigs of thyme and dashes of doomsbane thrown in for atmospheric effect, the morbidity of Necromaniac‘s metal is steeped mainly in the olde ways. Conjuring strong Hellhammer and Morbid2 vibes, there’s a rawness to the sound of the organic mix that belies the DR score you see below. Ensorcelling ‘guitarmageddon’ is Sadistik Fornicator, who laces the swirling potions of Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable with Toxic Holocaustian riffage (“Daemonomantia”) and guitar passages that sound as if they could have come straight from the cutting room floor of Slayer‘s Show No Mercy sessions (“Teraphim (Skull Sorcery)”). Combine those riffs with the potency of The One’s ‘Basstard Tremblings’ and V. Pestilencia’s ‘Apocalyptic Drumonitions,’ and the thrashily blackened death metal Necromaniac offers up is ruthlessly effective. When things shift toward the more atmospheric, however, cracks start to show and highlight the most significant battle fought within the album’s walls, which pits the strength of its metal against its more melodramatic tendencies.

With nothing to dilute its potency, the metal of Sciomancy, Malediction, & Rites Abominable is razor-sharp and capable of carrying the weight of the entire album. One quaff of the black-‘n-roll draught of riffs from “Grave Mound Oath” will have you bobbing your head and wondering what the hell ever happened to Carpathian Forest. At the same time, the swirling speeds of “Great is the Thirst of the Restless Dead” and the remorseless “Swedenborg’s Skull,” with its ebb and flow of pummeling riff work and atmospherically doomy passages, are a satisfying earworm of harrowing hocus-pocus. Atop all these infernal conflagrations float the vociferous vocalizations of C. Howler, whose grunts, growls, and menacing howls perfectly complement Necromaniac‘s morbidly sharp metal blade. If this were all we had to speak of regarding Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable, the overall perception would have been mostly positive, but there are elements left to address.

Necromaniac‘s firm forays into the strictly atmospheric fall short, cloaking those elements meant to invoke spine-chilling shivers in shrouds of theatrically overwrought melodrama instead. Other than “Caput Draconis,” with its effectively doomy guitar work and King Diamond-esque warbling3 providing an atmospherically eerie opening to the record, other attempts to tap the same vein miss the mark. Supplied by and known here only as A Corpse Without Soul, the guest vocals on “Bring Forth the Shade” and “Conjuration of St. Cyprian” are a mixture of cantankerous chuckles and over-embellished groans, whispers, and wails, combined then with the half-baked doom instrumentation and synths, create an overall effect more cringe than creepy. These tracks, in tandem with the ten-plus minutes of overly-long closer “Necromancess / Cauda Draconis,” full of meandering drawn-out doom work, make Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable feel longer than its near forty-nine-minute runtime should, negatively impacting the flow and momentum this witchy metal seance might otherwise have had.

Necromaniac‘s strength lies in the metal of its sciomantic maledictions and less in the melodrama of its abominable rites. Songs like “Grave Mound Oath,” “Teraphim (Skull Sorcery)” and “Swedenborg’s Skull” prove Necromaniac has the chops to stand tall next to other bands successfully peddling this same form of blackened death metal, but using vehicles that end up conjuring an atmosphere more mawkish than macabre costs Necromaniac most here. And while I can’t fully endorse Sciomancy, Maledictions and Rites Abominable, there’s enough meat on this bone to have me scoping Necromaniac‘s next incantation.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Invictus Productions | The Anja Offensive
Websites: necromaniac.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/necromaniacUK
Releases Worldwide: January 13, 2025

#25 #2025 #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #EnglishMetal #Hellhammer #InvictusProductions #Jan25 #Morbid #Necromaniac #Review #Reviews #SciomancyMaledictionsRitesAbominable #Slayer #TheANJAOffensive #ThrashMetal

NECROMANIAC – Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable Review

By Tyme

Having toiled and troubled over a bubbling cauldron for the past thirteen years, London, England’s Necromaniac, is finally prepared to cast the spell of its debut album Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable.1 A multi-national coven consisting of musicians from Sweden, Spain, Greece, and Poland, Necromaniac are self-described practitioners of “morbid metal.” After 2015’s promising and well-received demo Morbid Metal dropped, in addition to 2018’s mini-EP Subterranean Death Rising, Invictus Productions signed on in 2024 to release Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable, promising listeners “A truly sinister musical journey containing nine forbidden rites steeped in witchcraft, necromancy and an overall occult and utterly macabre atmosphere.” So I wondered, is this pricking in my thumbs a sign that something wicked this way comes, or is Necromaniac‘s witchery nothing more than parlor tricks?

An elixir of blackened death and thrash, with synth-sprigs of thyme and dashes of doomsbane thrown in for atmospheric effect, the morbidity of Necromaniac‘s metal is steeped mainly in the olde ways. Conjuring strong Hellhammer and Morbid2 vibes, there’s a rawness to the sound of the organic mix that belies the DR score you see below. Ensorcelling ‘guitarmageddon’ is Sadistik Fornicator, who laces the swirling potions of Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable with Toxic Holocaustian riffage (“Daemonomantia”) and guitar passages that sound as if they could have come straight from the cutting room floor of Slayer‘s Show No Mercy sessions (“Teraphim (Skull Sorcery)”). Combine those riffs with the potency of The One’s ‘Basstard Tremblings’ and V. Pestilencia’s ‘Apocalyptic Drumonitions,’ and the thrashily blackened death metal Necromaniac offers up is ruthlessly effective. When things shift toward the more atmospheric, however, cracks start to show and highlight the most significant battle fought within the album’s walls, which pits the strength of its metal against its more melodramatic tendencies.

With nothing to dilute its potency, the metal of Sciomancy, Malediction, & Rites Abominable is razor-sharp and capable of carrying the weight of the entire album. One quaff of the black-‘n-roll draught of riffs from “Grave Mound Oath” will have you bobbing your head and wondering what the hell ever happened to Carpathian Forest. At the same time, the swirling speeds of “Great is the Thirst of the Restless Dead” and the remorseless “Swedenborg’s Skull,” with its ebb and flow of pummeling riff work and atmospherically doomy passages, are a satisfying earworm of harrowing hocus-pocus. Atop all these infernal conflagrations float the vociferous vocalizations of C. Howler, whose grunts, growls, and menacing howls perfectly complement Necromaniac‘s morbidly sharp metal blade. If this were all we had to speak of regarding Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable, the overall perception would have been mostly positive, but there are elements left to address.

Necromaniac‘s firm forays into the strictly atmospheric fall short, cloaking those elements meant to invoke spine-chilling shivers in shrouds of theatrically overwrought melodrama instead. Other than “Caput Draconis,” with its effectively doomy guitar work and King Diamond-esque warbling3 providing an atmospherically eerie opening to the record, other attempts to tap the same vein miss the mark. Supplied by and known here only as A Corpse Without Soul, the guest vocals on “Bring Forth the Shade” and “Conjuration of St. Cyprian” are a mixture of cantankerous chuckles and over-embellished groans, whispers, and wails, combined then with the half-baked doom instrumentation and synths, create an overall effect more cringe than creepy. These tracks, in tandem with the ten-plus minutes of overly-long closer “Necromancess / Cauda Draconis,” full of meandering drawn-out doom work, make Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable feel longer than its near forty-nine-minute runtime should, negatively impacting the flow and momentum this witchy metal seance might otherwise have had.

Necromaniac‘s strength lies in the metal of its sciomantic maledictions and less in the melodrama of its abominable rites. Songs like “Grave Mound Oath,” “Teraphim (Skull Sorcery)” and “Swedenborg’s Skull” prove Necromaniac has the chops to stand tall next to other bands successfully peddling this same form of blackened death metal, but using vehicles that end up conjuring an atmosphere more mawkish than macabre costs Necromaniac most here. And while I can’t fully endorse Sciomancy, Maledictions and Rites Abominable, there’s enough meat on this bone to have me scoping Necromaniac‘s next incantation.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Invictus Productions | The Anja Offensive
Websites: necromaniac.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/necromaniacUK
Releases Worldwide: January 13, 2025

#25 #2025 #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #EnglishMetal #Hellhammer #InvictusProductions #Jan25 #Morbid #Necromaniac #Review #Reviews #SciomancyMaledictionsRitesAbominable #Slayer #TheANJAOffensive #ThrashMetal

NECROMANIAC – Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable Review

By Tyme

Having toiled and troubled over a bubbling cauldron for the past thirteen years, London, England’s Necromaniac, is finally prepared to cast the spell of its debut album Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable.1 A multi-national coven consisting of musicians from Sweden, Spain, Greece, and Poland, Necromaniac are self-described practitioners of “morbid metal.” After 2015’s promising and well-received demo Morbid Metal dropped, in addition to 2018’s mini-EP Subterranean Death Rising, Invictus Productions signed on in 2024 to release Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable, promising listeners “A truly sinister musical journey containing nine forbidden rites steeped in witchcraft, necromancy and an overall occult and utterly macabre atmosphere.” So I wondered, is this pricking in my thumbs a sign that something wicked this way comes, or is Necromaniac‘s witchery nothing more than parlor tricks?

An elixir of blackened death and thrash, with synth-sprigs of thyme and dashes of doomsbane thrown in for atmospheric effect, the morbidity of Necromaniac‘s metal is steeped mainly in the olde ways. Conjuring strong Hellhammer and Morbid2 vibes, there’s a rawness to the sound of the organic mix that belies the DR score you see below. Ensorcelling ‘guitarmageddon’ is Sadistik Fornicator, who laces the swirling potions of Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable with Toxic Holocaustian riffage (“Daemonomantia”) and guitar passages that sound as if they could have come straight from the cutting room floor of Slayer‘s Show No Mercy sessions (“Teraphim (Skull Sorcery)”). Combine those riffs with the potency of The One’s ‘Basstard Tremblings’ and V. Pestilencia’s ‘Apocalyptic Drumonitions,’ and the thrashily blackened death metal Necromaniac offers up is ruthlessly effective. When things shift toward the more atmospheric, however, cracks start to show and highlight the most significant battle fought within the album’s walls, which pits the strength of its metal against its more melodramatic tendencies.

With nothing to dilute its potency, the metal of Sciomancy, Malediction, & Rites Abominable is razor-sharp and capable of carrying the weight of the entire album. One quaff of the black-‘n-roll draught of riffs from “Grave Mound Oath” will have you bobbing your head and wondering what the hell ever happened to Carpathian Forest. At the same time, the swirling speeds of “Great is the Thirst of the Restless Dead” and the remorseless “Swedenborg’s Skull,” with its ebb and flow of pummeling riff work and atmospherically doomy passages, are a satisfying earworm of harrowing hocus-pocus. Atop all these infernal conflagrations float the vociferous vocalizations of C. Howler, whose grunts, growls, and menacing howls perfectly complement Necromaniac‘s morbidly sharp metal blade. If this were all we had to speak of regarding Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable, the overall perception would have been mostly positive, but there are elements left to address.

Necromaniac‘s firm forays into the strictly atmospheric fall short, cloaking those elements meant to invoke spine-chilling shivers in shrouds of theatrically overwrought melodrama instead. Other than “Caput Draconis,” with its effectively doomy guitar work and King Diamond-esque warbling3 providing an atmospherically eerie opening to the record, other attempts to tap the same vein miss the mark. Supplied by and known here only as A Corpse Without Soul, the guest vocals on “Bring Forth the Shade” and “Conjuration of St. Cyprian” are a mixture of cantankerous chuckles and over-embellished groans, whispers, and wails, combined then with the half-baked doom instrumentation and synths, create an overall effect more cringe than creepy. These tracks, in tandem with the ten-plus minutes of overly-long closer “Necromancess / Cauda Draconis,” full of meandering drawn-out doom work, make Sciomancy, Malediction & Rites Abominable feel longer than its near forty-nine-minute runtime should, negatively impacting the flow and momentum this witchy metal seance might otherwise have had.

Necromaniac‘s strength lies in the metal of its sciomantic maledictions and less in the melodrama of its abominable rites. Songs like “Grave Mound Oath,” “Teraphim (Skull Sorcery)” and “Swedenborg’s Skull” prove Necromaniac has the chops to stand tall next to other bands successfully peddling this same form of blackened death metal, but using vehicles that end up conjuring an atmosphere more mawkish than macabre costs Necromaniac most here. And while I can’t fully endorse Sciomancy, Maledictions and Rites Abominable, there’s enough meat on this bone to have me scoping Necromaniac‘s next incantation.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Invictus Productions | The Anja Offensive
Websites: necromaniac.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/necromaniacUK
Releases Worldwide: January 13, 2025

#25 #2025 #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #EnglishMetal #Hellhammer #InvictusProductions #Jan25 #Morbid #Necromaniac #Review #Reviews #SciomancyMaledictionsRitesAbominable #Slayer #TheANJAOffensive #ThrashMetal

Mutagenic Host – The Diseased Machine Review

By Tyme

Cooked up like the T-Virus in some underground UK lab and now stalking the streets of London, is Mutagenic Host, a newcomer to the British death metal scene. After the release of The Genotoxic Demo in 2023, Mutagenic Host signed on with Dry Cough Records, as well as Gurgling Gore and Memento Mori, to release their debut album, The Diseased Machine. Primarily concerned with the world’s increasing levels of apathetic complacency and the rampant proliferation of AI, “their work is an allegory for the systematic industrialization of humanity’s eradication—whether by human hands or by the machines we create to snuff out life.” In a genre packed with competition, Mutagenic Host steps up to the line, prepared to toss their fedoras into the ring alongside fellow new British heavies like Coffin Mulch, Slimelord, and Mortuary Spawn. I wondered if they’d have the DNA necessary to stand out in the crowd or if they should keep percolating in the petri dish.

Mutagenic Host‘s primary organism is a mass of old-school death metal, with hardcore elements pustulating its writhing appendages. More Obituary than Monstrosity, the death of The Diseased Machine‘s metal harkens back to the halcyon days of Florida’s nineties scene. Rife with tight, precise riffs but trading in the thrashier influences for sprinkles of hardcore, Mutagenic Host manages to set themselves apart from their British brethren. Whether they’re crushing skulls with Unleashed abandon (“Genestealer,” “Promethean Dusk”) or dragging their knuckles through chug-a-sludge swamps of Wharflurchian slime (“Organometallic Assimilation,” “The Twisted Helix”), the unrelenting riff-slaught of Jack Thompson and Sami Tuohino1 packs The Diseased Machine with enough globby chugs, oozy leads, and twisty solos to reduce even the meanest Resident Evil end boss to a purulent puddle. Combine that with Dan Bulford’s bulbously punchy bass work and George Kinsella-Pearn’s world-beating drumstrosities, and you have one devastatingly lethal mutant on your hands.

Completing the vehicle through which Mutagenic Host brings you their post-apocalyptic vision are the vocals of Ash Moore. His Maulti-pronged attack comes with the standard weaponry of guttural grunts, throat-ripping roars and raspy shrieks, but floats in a reagent of hardcore-tinged shouts. Moore’s performance, recorded with cavernous echo, sits siloed in Ben Jones’ beefily brutal mix. This bifurcation enhances rather than detracts from The Diseased Machine‘s gene-splicing approach, which opener “Neurological Necrosis” fully encapsulates. After a brief eighties-style science fiction intro, the track builds with slimy guitar licks and bubbling bass lines before spewing forth with Moore’s mighty roar over a brain-bashing brutal riff. The song weaves through hardcore laden d-beats, and gang shouts before lumbering to its conclusion under massively thick riffs that stick like slow-churned pus-butter. And despite its state of youthful embryogenesis, Mutagenic Host presents as a band much more mature, The Diseased Machine sounding like a product from well-established scene veterans.

Weighted neither to its front nor back half, The Diseased Machine is a balanced platter of gurgling goodness, nearly void of anomalous flaws. Deft injections of groove and melody give the tornadic guitar swirls of “Artificial Harvest of the Obscene” and the bludgeoning bass of “Incomprehensible Methods of Slaughter” extra depth, ensuring not a second of The Diseased Machine‘s ideal forty-one-minute run time is wasted. Even the mid-album interlude “DIRECTIVE:: [kill_on_sight]” furthers the narrative effectively and offers a point of poignant respite. This break is needed to make it to the instrumental closer “Rivers of Grief,” with its Holst-inspired riff on the “Mars” theme to start; it gives way to a river of brutal chugs on which listeners float to the album’s conclusion.

Even before my most recent demotion to staff, I had been eyeing The Diseased Machine, so I was exuberant when I saw it glimmering in the sump pit, unclaimed by senior staff. I could only hope the album lived up to my enthusiastic expectations, which it does. Mutagenic Host has released a death metal album that checks all the boxes, a rifferously frenzied affair of epic proportions. It will not be the only thing I recommend in 2025, but it’s undoubtedly the first. I will be intently eyeing Mutagenic Host, anticipating their next evolution, and fans of this style should, too.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Labels: Gurgling Gore | Dry Cough | Memento Mori
Website: mutagenichost.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: January 3rd, 2025

#2025 #40 #CoffinMulch #DeathMetal #DryCoughRecords #EnglishMetal #GurglingGoreRecords #Jan3 #MementoMoriRecords #MutagenicHost #Obituary #Review #Reviews #TheDiseasedMachine #Wharflurch

Mutagenic Host – The Diseased Machine Review

By Tyme

Cooked up like the T-Virus in some underground UK lab and now stalking the streets of London, is Mutagenic Host, a newcomer to the British death metal scene. After the release of The Genotoxic Demo in 2023, Mutagenic Host signed on with Dry Cough Records, as well as Gurgling Gore and Memento Mori, to release their debut album, The Diseased Machine. Primarily concerned with the world’s increasing levels of apathetic complacency and the rampant proliferation of AI, “their work is an allegory for the systematic industrialization of humanity’s eradication—whether by human hands or by the machines we create to snuff out life.” In a genre packed with competition, Mutagenic Host steps up to the line, prepared to toss their fedoras into the ring alongside fellow new British heavies like Coffin Mulch, Slimelord, and Mortuary Spawn. I wondered if they’d have the DNA necessary to stand out in the crowd or if they should keep percolating in the petri dish.

Mutagenic Host‘s primary organism is a mass of old-school death metal, with hardcore elements pustulating its writhing appendages. More Obituary than Monstrosity, the death of The Diseased Machine‘s metal harkens back to the halcyon days of Florida’s nineties scene. Rife with tight, precise riffs but trading in the thrashier influences for sprinkles of hardcore, Mutagenic Host manages to set themselves apart from their British brethren. Whether they’re crushing skulls with Unleashed abandon (“Genestealer,” “Promethean Dusk”) or dragging their knuckles through chug-a-sludge swamps of Wharflurchian slime (“Organometallic Assimilation,” “The Twisted Helix”), the unrelenting riff-slaught of Jack Thompson and Sami Tuohino1 packs The Diseased Machine with enough globby chugs, oozy leads, and twisty solos to reduce even the meanest Resident Evil end boss to a purulent puddle. Combine that with Dan Bulford’s bulbously punchy bass work and George Kinsella-Pearn’s world-beating drumstrosities, and you have one devastatingly lethal mutant on your hands.

Completing the vehicle through which Mutagenic Host brings you their post-apocalyptic vision are the vocals of Ash Moore. His Maulti-pronged attack comes with the standard weaponry of guttural grunts, throat-ripping roars and raspy shrieks, but floats in a reagent of hardcore-tinged shouts. Moore’s performance, recorded with cavernous echo, sits siloed in Ben Jones’ beefily brutal mix. This bifurcation enhances rather than detracts from The Diseased Machine‘s gene-splicing approach, which opener “Neurological Necrosis” fully encapsulates. After a brief eighties-style science fiction intro, the track builds with slimy guitar licks and bubbling bass lines before spewing forth with Moore’s mighty roar over a brain-bashing brutal riff. The song weaves through hardcore laden d-beats, and gang shouts before lumbering to its conclusion under massively thick riffs that stick like slow-churned pus-butter. And despite its state of youthful embryogenesis, Mutagenic Host presents as a band much more mature, The Diseased Machine sounding like a product from well-established scene veterans.

Weighted neither to its front nor back half, The Diseased Machine is a balanced platter of gurgling goodness, nearly void of anomalous flaws. Deft injections of groove and melody give the tornadic guitar swirls of “Artificial Harvest of the Obscene” and the bludgeoning bass of “Incomprehensible Methods of Slaughter” extra depth, ensuring not a second of The Diseased Machine‘s ideal forty-one-minute run time is wasted. Even the mid-album interlude “DIRECTIVE:: [kill_on_sight]” furthers the narrative effectively and offers a point of poignant respite. This break is needed to make it to the instrumental closer “Rivers of Grief,” with its Holst-inspired riff on the “Mars” theme to start; it gives way to a river of brutal chugs on which listeners float to the album’s conclusion.

Even before my most recent demotion to staff, I had been eyeing The Diseased Machine, so I was exuberant when I saw it glimmering in the sump pit, unclaimed by senior staff. I could only hope the album lived up to my enthusiastic expectations, which it does. Mutagenic Host has released a death metal album that checks all the boxes, a rifferously frenzied affair of epic proportions. It will not be the only thing I recommend in 2025, but it’s undoubtedly the first. I will be intently eyeing Mutagenic Host, anticipating their next evolution, and fans of this style should, too.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Labels: Gurgling Gore | Dry Cough | Memento Mori
Website: mutagenichost.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: January 3rd, 2025

#2025 #40 #CoffinMulch #DeathMetal #DryCoughRecords #EnglishMetal #GurglingGoreRecords #Jan3 #MementoMoriRecords #MutagenicHost #Obituary #Review #Reviews #TheDiseasedMachine #Wharflurch

Mutagenic Host – The Diseased Machine Review

By Tyme

Cooked up like the T-Virus in some underground UK lab and now stalking the streets of London, is Mutagenic Host, a newcomer to the British death metal scene. After the release of The Genotoxic Demo in 2023, Mutagenic Host signed on with Dry Cough Records, as well as Gurgling Gore and Memento Mori, to release their debut album, The Diseased Machine. Primarily concerned with the world’s increasing levels of apathetic complacency and the rampant proliferation of AI, “their work is an allegory for the systematic industrialization of humanity’s eradication—whether by human hands or by the machines we create to snuff out life.” In a genre packed with competition, Mutagenic Host steps up to the line, prepared to toss their fedoras into the ring alongside fellow new British heavies like Coffin Mulch, Slimelord, and Mortuary Spawn. I wondered if they’d have the DNA necessary to stand out in the crowd or if they should keep percolating in the petri dish.

Mutagenic Host‘s primary organism is a mass of old-school death metal, with hardcore elements pustulating its writhing appendages. More Obituary than Monstrosity, the death of The Diseased Machine‘s metal harkens back to the halcyon days of Florida’s nineties scene. Rife with tight, precise riffs but trading in the thrashier influences for sprinkles of hardcore, Mutagenic Host manages to set themselves apart from their British brethren. Whether they’re crushing skulls with Unleashed abandon (“Genestealer,” “Promethean Dusk”) or dragging their knuckles through chug-a-sludge swamps of Wharflurchian slime (“Organometallic Assimilation,” “The Twisted Helix”), the unrelenting riff-slaught of Jack Thompson and Sami Tuohino1 packs The Diseased Machine with enough globby chugs, oozy leads, and twisty solos to reduce even the meanest Resident Evil end boss to a purulent puddle. Combine that with Dan Bulford’s bulbously punchy bass work and George Kinsella-Pearn’s world-beating drumstrosities, and you have one devastatingly lethal mutant on your hands.

Completing the vehicle through which Mutagenic Host brings you their post-apocalyptic vision are the vocals of Ash Moore. His Maulti-pronged attack comes with the standard weaponry of guttural grunts, throat-ripping roars and raspy shrieks, but floats in a reagent of hardcore-tinged shouts. Moore’s performance, recorded with cavernous echo, sits siloed in Ben Jones’ beefily brutal mix. This bifurcation enhances rather than detracts from The Diseased Machine‘s gene-splicing approach, which opener “Neurological Necrosis” fully encapsulates. After a brief eighties-style science fiction intro, the track builds with slimy guitar licks and bubbling bass lines before spewing forth with Moore’s mighty roar over a brain-bashing brutal riff. The song weaves through hardcore laden d-beats, and gang shouts before lumbering to its conclusion under massively thick riffs that stick like slow-churned pus-butter. And despite its state of youthful embryogenesis, Mutagenic Host presents as a band much more mature, The Diseased Machine sounding like a product from well-established scene veterans.

Weighted neither to its front nor back half, The Diseased Machine is a balanced platter of gurgling goodness, nearly void of anomalous flaws. Deft injections of groove and melody give the tornadic guitar swirls of “Artificial Harvest of the Obscene” and the bludgeoning bass of “Incomprehensible Methods of Slaughter” extra depth, ensuring not a second of The Diseased Machine‘s ideal forty-one-minute run time is wasted. Even the mid-album interlude “DIRECTIVE:: [kill_on_sight]” furthers the narrative effectively and offers a point of poignant respite. This break is needed to make it to the instrumental closer “Rivers of Grief,” with its Holst-inspired riff on the “Mars” theme to start; it gives way to a river of brutal chugs on which listeners float to the album’s conclusion.

Even before my most recent demotion to staff, I had been eyeing The Diseased Machine, so I was exuberant when I saw it glimmering in the sump pit, unclaimed by senior staff. I could only hope the album lived up to my enthusiastic expectations, which it does. Mutagenic Host has released a death metal album that checks all the boxes, a rifferously frenzied affair of epic proportions. It will not be the only thing I recommend in 2025, but it’s undoubtedly the first. I will be intently eyeing Mutagenic Host, anticipating their next evolution, and fans of this style should, too.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Labels: Gurgling Gore | Dry Cough | Memento Mori
Website: mutagenichost.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: January 3rd, 2025

#2025 #40 #CoffinMulch #DeathMetal #DryCoughRecords #EnglishMetal #GurglingGoreRecords #Jan3 #MementoMoriRecords #MutagenicHost #Obituary #Review #Reviews #TheDiseasedMachine #Wharflurch

Opeth – The Last Will and Testament Review

By El Cuervo

Little introduction is required for the progressive metal institution that is Sweden’s Opeth. In a career running over 30 years in length and spanning 13 previous studio albums, they have demonstrated an unending pursuit of progression by drawing in more influences as they’ve changed. From death metal to progressive rock to European folk to whimsical jazz, they have tracked a course that has always been fascinating, even if the quality has varied a little more than that. Reaching 2024, The Last Will and Testament is a remarkable record in a career full of remarkable records. It represents all of the following: the most overdue studio album, being released five years after its predecessor; the first release with the young but experienced Waltteri Väyrynen on drums; the return of harsh vocals for the first time in 16 years; and the first concept record since 1999’s Still Life.

Despite these remarkable qualities, The Last Will and Testament offers a smooth and natural progression from 2019’s In Cauda Venenum, but with discernible nods to other records in the Opeth discography. The first and most obvious reference is the progressive melodrama levered on Ghost Reveries and Watershed. The swinging passage from 1:30 on “§2”1 is effortlessly cool, layering groovy guitars and dramatic keyboards with spoken-word narration and a wild vibrato buried in the background. It recalls that specific era of death-influenced progressive metal, dripping with keyboard-generated atmosphere. The second core component of The Last Will and Testament’s sound is the heady compositions favored on In Cauda Venenum. That record featured varied, complex compositions but they’re too disparate. Those here are simultaneously sharper but also freer. “§4” bridges a soft flute interlude with a heavy guitar passage via a subtle drum crescendo, and despite the contrasting instrumentation, it’s smooth and cohesive in a way that few other bands can match. The musical continuity builds a sense of completeness, which is no doubt aided by the final influence in The Last Will and Testament’s sound: Still Life’s rich storytelling.

The album’s concept drives both the music and structure. The Last Will and Testament spins a yarn based around the administration of the estate of a wealthy man, replete with a seedy lawyer (entertainingly performed by Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull) and an imposing patriarch (given a voice through Mikael Åkerfeldt’s wrathful roar). The twisting tale of family intrigue and deception—including soap opera grudges and illicit children—is narrated across the first six tracks, before culminating in “§7” where Anderson delivers a deliciously-evil reading of the will to the unsuspecting beneficiaries. While this feels appropriately climactic, the final track “A Story Never Told” succeeds this chicanery with jarring clarity. It’s an excellent tonal shift, with Åkerfeldt’s clean singing layered over a simple piano melody that’s as simple as it is beautiful. While The Last Will and Testament twists and turns throughout, the opening to this track lifts the listener out of the mire of family drama2 and closes affairs with peacefulness.

But The Last Will and Testament’s most important quality is its sheer mastery. There’s no one else that writes music like this, and rarely so successfully. Every element of its core fusion of death metal and progressive rock is highly accomplished, from the knotty compositions to the polished performances to the immaculate production. As referenced earlier, In Cauda Venenum has a similar scope of instrumentation and intricate compositions. But they’re elevated here; more harmonious, more sophisticated, more artful. “§5” is a prime example. There’s a high degree of intricacy as it folds crisp drums, dancing bass lines, beautiful strings, darting vocals, and bluesy guitars into something that oscillates between subtle jazz and crunchy death metal. I love the natural lilt and the unexpected transitions.3 It’s busy and dense with textures, but the bold melodies and crystalline production prevent the material from sinking into murkiness. I’ll also commend “A Story Never Told” as one of the best songs of the year. Its organic swell from delicate piano melodies to the grand guitar solo concludes the album on an endlessly moreish note.

The Last Will and Testament doesn’t yield any weaknesses. On their fourteenth go-round, Opeth has once more delivered something exemplary in conception, performance, and production. The songs are varied but focused, feeling shorter and tighter than prior work. And while its story may not be as tragic as prior Opeth concepts, I admire the willingness to have some fun with it.4 Existing fans will no doubt gain much from this experience, and anyone with their interest limited to O(ld)peth may just find something here too. 2024 sees these Swedes finding a new harmony in their sound, and connoisseurs of progressive music mustn’t miss this.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Reigning Phoenix Music
Websites: opeth.com | facebook.com/opeth
Releases Worldwide: November 22nd, 2024

Show 4 footnotes

1. All tracks except the finale are titled as paragraphs within a will, hence the “§”. ↩
2. Above the mire, if you will. ↩
3. But while unexpected, the transitions are not jarring as was the case on Watershed or Heritage, where there was a sense that they were just linking things together at random in the studio and telling Per to play one note on the keyboard as an ‘excuse’ to justify a key change. Instead, The Last Will and Testament is crafted with the deliberate, artisanal expertise that Åkerfeldt demonstrated in his composition and arrangements for his entire career before 2008. – AMG ↩
4. And the growth that Åkerfeldt exemplified by accepting the lessons of In Cada Venenum; lyrics matter and they take real time and effort. The Last Will and Testament plays in genuine Concept Record territory in a way that makes it genuinely fun to listen to. It’s melodramatic and it’s sharp. – AMG ↩

#2024 #45 #DeathMetal #EnglishMetal #JethroTull #Nov24 #Opeth #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #TheLastWillAndTestament

Adorior – Bleed on My Teeth Review

By Mark Z.

Somewhere along the way, Adorior got angry. When this English group released their 1998 debut Like Cutting the Sleeping, they sounded like a pretty traditional black metal band, albeit with occasional experimental touches in the form of cleanly sung segments and moody atmospheric passages. I don’t know what happened after that record was released, but when the band returned with 2005’s Author of Incest, they sounded ready to take up arms against the entire human race. Author of Incest is, simply put, one of the most incendiary albums ever recorded. With its scalding guitars, pummeling drums, and enraged vocals, the record showed Adorior infusing a hefty amount of death metal into the proceedings, ultimately resulting in a napalm bombing in musical form. The album’s opening track, “Hater of Fucking Humans,” is easily one of the most vicious blackened death metal songs of all time, and vocalist Melissa Gray’s performance on that track remains one of the most furious and unhinged I’ve ever heard. Now, after years of dormancy, the group are finally back with their third album, Bleed on My Teeth. Does it continue the band’s diabolical conquest of humanity?

It’s obviously been a long time since the last album, and in the interim Adorior lost all prior members except Melissa1 and drummer “D. Molestör.” Thus, one would understandably be concerned about whether Adorior could maintain their aggression. Fortunately, Mr. Molestör seems to have selected a suitably angry cadre of newcomers from other projects he’s been involved with, including current or former members of Grave Miasma, Cruciamentum, and Qrixkuor. Opener “Begrime Judas” shows that these new recruits have just as much pent-up rage as their predecessors. With explosive riffs, fiery tremolo runs, and surging rhythms, the song is livid and combative, making it sound like no time has passed since Author of Incest. As if to further drive home the band’s militant nature, the track even features a ruthless half-time thrash break overlaid with samples of automatic gunfire. Such intensity rarely subsides until the title track concludes the album with wailing notes approximately 50 minutes later.

Just like the last record, Bleed on My Teeth matches the scorching fury of Impiety while sounding blunter, heavier, and looser. Señor Molestör is an absolute madman on drums, moving furiously between blast beats, frantic thrash drumming, and pummeling breaks that hit like artillery strikes. The guitars ejaculate a nonstop stream of hostility, veering wildly between whiplashing tremolos, searing chords, and even some more rhythmic ideas. Songs like “Ophidian Strike” and “Moment of Mania” may sound chuggier than the others, but they don’t lose one drop of intensity because of it. Likewise, “L.O.T.P. – Vomit Vomit Vomit Bastard” is one of my favorite tracks here not just because of its title, but also for how it swells with gigantic mid-paced riffs that give rise to a triumphant aura and an obscene yet strangely catchy refrain (“He likes to make them cum & then revel in their shame… He likes to make them say his name…”).

If there’s one hangup I have with this album, it’s the vocals. After almost two decades since the last album, Melissa’s raspy shout still sounds pissed off, but she occasionally sounds strained, and her loose sense of timing sometimes feels at odds with the music. Nonetheless, her wild approach ultimately won me over, and her occasional air siren screams only add to the maniacal energy. The chanted gang shouts in songs like “Scavengers of Vengeance” further propel the rampage and are a nice callback to similar moments from Author of Incest. Production-wise, the album is hefty and hot. While it sounds louder than its DR8 would suggest, everything remains clear while swarming together in a way that’s fiery and forceful, but never exhausting. The record’s dynamic drumming, superb sequencing, and occasional moments of brief ambience only further stave off fatigue.

Ultimately, Bleed on My Teeth is a paragon of extremity. It leaves no orifice unfucked. It is an expulsion of hostility, a firestorm of fury, a fist in the ass of decency. Above all, it is a glorious return for Adorior, and a surefire treat for those bloodthirsty cretins who have been waiting so long to finally hear more of what these maniacs have to offer. Close your eyes, open wide, and let them bleed on your fukkin teeth.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Labels: Dark Descent Records | Sepulchral Voice Records
Websites: adorior.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/adorior
Releases Worldwide: September 27th, 2024

#2024 #40 #Adorior #BlackMetal #BleedOnMyTeeth #Cruciamentum #DarkDescentRecords #DeathMetal #EnglishMetal #GraveMiasma #Impiety #Qrixkuor #Review #Reviews #Sep24 #SepulchralVoiceRecords

Adorior – Bleed on My Teeth Review

By Mark Z.

Somewhere along the way, Adorior got angry. When this English group released their 1998 debut Like Cutting the Sleeping, they sounded like a pretty traditional black metal band, albeit with occasional experimental touches in the form of cleanly sung segments and moody atmospheric passages. I don’t know what happened after that record was released, but when the band returned with 2005’s Author of Incest, they sounded ready to take up arms against the entire human race. Author of Incest is, simply put, one of the most incendiary albums ever recorded. With its scalding guitars, pummeling drums, and enraged vocals, the record showed Adorior infusing a hefty amount of death metal into the proceedings, ultimately resulting in a napalm bombing in musical form. The album’s opening track, “Hater of Fucking Humans,” is easily one of the most vicious blackened death metal songs of all time, and vocalist Melissa Gray’s performance on that track remains one of the most furious and unhinged I’ve ever heard. Now, after years of dormancy, the group are finally back with their third album, Bleed on My Teeth. Does it continue the band’s diabolical conquest of humanity?

It’s obviously been a long time since the last album, and in the interim Adorior lost all prior members except Melissa1 and drummer “D. Molestör.” Thus, one would understandably be concerned about whether Adorior could maintain their aggression. Fortunately, Mr. Molestör seems to have selected a suitably angry cadre of newcomers from other projects he’s been involved with, including current or former members of Grave Miasma, Cruciamentum, and Qrixkuor. Opener “Begrime Judas” shows that these new recruits have just as much pent-up rage as their predecessors. With explosive riffs, fiery tremolo runs, and surging rhythms, the song is livid and combative, making it sound like no time has passed since Author of Incest. As if to further drive home the band’s militant nature, the track even features a ruthless half-time thrash break overlaid with samples of automatic gunfire. Such intensity rarely subsides until the title track concludes the album with wailing notes approximately 50 minutes later.

Just like the last record, Bleed on My Teeth matches the scorching fury of Impiety while sounding blunter, heavier, and looser. Señor Molestör is an absolute madman on drums, moving furiously between blast beats, frantic thrash drumming, and pummeling breaks that hit like artillery strikes. The guitars ejaculate a nonstop stream of hostility, veering wildly between whiplashing tremolos, searing chords, and even some more rhythmic ideas. Songs like “Ophidian Strike” and “Moment of Mania” may sound chuggier than the others, but they don’t lose one drop of intensity because of it. Likewise, “L.O.T.P. – Vomit Vomit Vomit Bastard” is one of my favorite tracks here not just because of its title, but also for how it swells with gigantic mid-paced riffs that give rise to a triumphant aura and an obscene yet strangely catchy refrain (“He likes to make them cum & then revel in their shame… He likes to make them say his name…”).

If there’s one hangup I have with this album, it’s the vocals. After almost two decades since the last album, Melissa’s raspy shout still sounds pissed off, but she occasionally sounds strained, and her loose sense of timing sometimes feels at odds with the music. Nonetheless, her wild approach ultimately won me over, and her occasional air siren screams only add to the maniacal energy. The chanted gang shouts in songs like “Scavengers of Vengeance” further propel the rampage and are a nice callback to similar moments from Author of Incest. Production-wise, the album is hefty and hot. While it sounds louder than its DR8 would suggest, everything remains clear while swarming together in a way that’s fiery and forceful, but never exhausting. The record’s dynamic drumming, superb sequencing, and occasional moments of brief ambience only further stave off fatigue.

Ultimately, Bleed on My Teeth is a paragon of extremity. It leaves no orifice unfucked. It is an expulsion of hostility, a firestorm of fury, a fist in the ass of decency. Above all, it is a glorious return for Adorior, and a surefire treat for those bloodthirsty cretins who have been waiting so long to finally hear more of what these maniacs have to offer. Close your eyes, open wide, and let them bleed on your fukkin teeth.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Labels: Dark Descent Records | Sepulchral Voice Records
Websites: adorior.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/adorior
Releases Worldwide: September 27th, 2024

#2024 #40 #Adorior #BlackMetal #BleedOnMyTeeth #Cruciamentum #DarkDescentRecords #DeathMetal #EnglishMetal #GraveMiasma #Impiety #Qrixkuor #Review #Reviews #Sep24 #SepulchralVoiceRecords

Adorior – Bleed on My Teeth Review

By Mark Z.

Somewhere along the way, Adorior got angry. When this English group released their 1998 debut Like Cutting the Sleeping, they sounded like a pretty traditional black metal band, albeit with occasional experimental touches in the form of cleanly sung segments and moody atmospheric passages. I don’t know what happened after that record was released, but when the band returned with 2005’s Author of Incest, they sounded ready to take up arms against the entire human race. Author of Incest is, simply put, one of the most incendiary albums ever recorded. With its scalding guitars, pummeling drums, and enraged vocals, the record showed Adorior infusing a hefty amount of death metal into the proceedings, ultimately resulting in a napalm bombing in musical form. The album’s opening track, “Hater of Fucking Humans,” is easily one of the most vicious blackened death metal songs of all time, and vocalist Melissa Gray’s performance on that track remains one of the most furious and unhinged I’ve ever heard. Now, after years of dormancy, the group are finally back with their third album, Bleed on My Teeth. Does it continue the band’s diabolical conquest of humanity?

It’s obviously been a long time since the last album, and in the interim Adorior lost all prior members except Melissa1 and drummer “D. Molestör.” Thus, one would understandably be concerned about whether Adorior could maintain their aggression. Fortunately, Mr. Molestör seems to have selected a suitably angry cadre of newcomers from other projects he’s been involved with, including current or former members of Grave Miasma, Cruciamentum, and Qrixkuor. Opener “Begrime Judas” shows that these new recruits have just as much pent-up rage as their predecessors. With explosive riffs, fiery tremolo runs, and surging rhythms, the song is livid and combative, making it sound like no time has passed since Author of Incest. As if to further drive home the band’s militant nature, the track even features a ruthless half-time thrash break overlaid with samples of automatic gunfire. Such intensity rarely subsides until the title track concludes the album with wailing notes approximately 50 minutes later.

Just like the last record, Bleed on My Teeth matches the scorching fury of Impiety while sounding blunter, heavier, and looser. Señor Molestör is an absolute madman on drums, moving furiously between blast beats, frantic thrash drumming, and pummeling breaks that hit like artillery strikes. The guitars ejaculate a nonstop stream of hostility, veering wildly between whiplashing tremolos, searing chords, and even some more rhythmic ideas. Songs like “Ophidian Strike” and “Moment of Mania” may sound chuggier than the others, but they don’t lose one drop of intensity because of it. Likewise, “L.O.T.P. – Vomit Vomit Vomit Bastard” is one of my favorite tracks here not just because of its title, but also for how it swells with gigantic mid-paced riffs that give rise to a triumphant aura and an obscene yet strangely catchy refrain (“He likes to make them cum & then revel in their shame… He likes to make them say his name…”).

If there’s one hangup I have with this album, it’s the vocals. After almost two decades since the last album, Melissa’s raspy shout still sounds pissed off, but she occasionally sounds strained, and her loose sense of timing sometimes feels at odds with the music. Nonetheless, her wild approach ultimately won me over, and her occasional air siren screams only add to the maniacal energy. The chanted gang shouts in songs like “Scavengers of Vengeance” further propel the rampage and are a nice callback to similar moments from Author of Incest. Production-wise, the album is hefty and hot. While it sounds louder than its DR8 would suggest, everything remains clear while swarming together in a way that’s fiery and forceful, but never exhausting. The record’s dynamic drumming, superb sequencing, and occasional moments of brief ambience only further stave off fatigue.

Ultimately, Bleed on My Teeth is a paragon of extremity. It leaves no orifice unfucked. It is an expulsion of hostility, a firestorm of fury, a fist in the ass of decency. Above all, it is a glorious return for Adorior, and a surefire treat for those bloodthirsty cretins who have been waiting so long to finally hear more of what these maniacs have to offer. Close your eyes, open wide, and let them bleed on your fukkin teeth.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Labels: Dark Descent Records | Sepulchral Voice Records
Websites: adorior.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/adorior
Releases Worldwide: September 27th, 2024

#2024 #40 #Adorior #BlackMetal #BleedOnMyTeeth #Cruciamentum #DarkDescentRecords #DeathMetal #EnglishMetal #GraveMiasma #Impiety #Qrixkuor #Review #Reviews #Sep24 #SepulchralVoiceRecords

Dawn Treader – Bloom & Decay Review

By Itchymenace

I love black metal—especially when it’s drenched in an atmosphere that soars between heroic highs and guttural lows. But, finding quality records with dynamic songs that resonate with me on an emotional level can be harder than finding a needle in a Norwegian blizzard. Jorn knows I’ve dipped my scabbed hands into the sump numerous times only to pull out some third or fourth-generation Emperor copy put together by a couple of kids who are in 300 other bands that I’ve also never heard of. Patiently, I’ve waited for a band that has the hood-covered chops to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the great atmo-black bands I adore like Agalloch, Alcest, Panopticon and, dare I say, Deafheaven.1 So, it was as if Odin himself answered my prayers when Dawn Treader steered its mighty Saxon hull into my harbor with an album that’s as fierce, beautiful, stirring, and memorable as anything I’ve heard in the past several years. What makes this album such a gem? Direct your black gaze forward.

Dawn Treader is a “solo, anti-fascist black metal project” from London native, Ross Connell. Bloom & Decay is the project’s second release and the first to include vocals from Mr. Connell, who proves himself a formidable and impassioned vocalist. He balances urgency and angst with an emotional nuance that elevates the songs above most of his contemporaries. His opening shriek on “Idolator” is blood-curdling in the best sense, but he channels that rage into the verse with a near-melodic delivery that will put your heart in your throat. On his previous release, 2021’s The Burial of the Dead, any vocalizations came in the form of soundbites from poems, namely T.S. Elliot’s “Wasteland.” Bloom & Decay still benefits from plenty of carefully curated samples, but the vocals add a much-welcome dimension to the landscape.

The majority of Bloom & Decay is instrumental, but you hardly notice because the music has such a storytelling quality to it. To paraphrase the release notes, it takes you through the “cycles of life and death, grief and glory, hope and melancholy.” And while most black metal bands promise some form of this, Dawn Treader delivers in spades. The opening minutes of “Sunchaser” offer a prelude of everything to come with delicate melodies that intensify into heroic tremolos that feel victorious one moment and mournful the next. The track segues perfectly into “Idolator,” which somehow combines compelling black metal riffs with a crushing, metalcore-style breakdown and a finger-tapping guitar solo. It works, check it out! Listening to Bloom & Decay, you can’t help but feel that it is building up to something. That something is the title track and one of the most uplifting and inspiring songs I’ve ever heard. It’s a monster album closer that soars through some of the best, most melodic blackened guitar work you’ll hear. But, the coup de grace is the masterfully placed sample of Charles Bukowski’s “The Laughing Heart” as read by Tom Waits. The poem, which emphasizes how life’s soul-crushing lows can be offset by glimmering moments of light, perfectly delivers an emotional climax that makes you want to wipe your brow, catch your breath, flip the record and start over.

A big part of me wanted to give this record a 5.0 but the objective voice inside my head (and the thought of Steel’s boot on my neck) persuaded me to step back and reconsider. As good as the good stuff is, there are areas that could be trimmed. Curiously, the first single “Sky Burial,” resonates with me the least. “Iron Price,” with its heavily political and meandering “fuck you” speech may turn off some listeners, but the ferocity of the second half delivers serious chills reminiscent of Panopticon. While I love “The Oxbow Incident,” the Henry Fonda speech included before the final track delays rather than builds my excitement. Still, at 53 minutes, Bloom & Decay is right in the pocket for this sort of epic black metal.

Bloom & Decay not only contains amazing songs that celebrate the highs and lows of the human experience, but it also sounds great. It has a bright and punchy production that submerges you just beneath every cascading note and crashing tidal wave blast. For fans of black metal and certainly post-black metal, black gaze and atmo black (and whatever other hip genre you want to add) Dawn Treader have released a must-have record. Prepare to set sail for greatness!

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 2116 kbps
Label: liminaldreadproductions.com
Website: dawntreaderuk.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: August 23rd, 2024

#40 #AtmophericBlackMetal #Aug24 #BlackMetal #Blackgaze #BloomDecay #DawnTreader #EnglishMetal #Review #Reviews #UKMetal