#folkmetal — Public Fediverse posts

HRAFNABLÓT (Islàndia) presenta nou àlbum: "Guðlaugar saga" #Hrafnablót #FolkMetal #Setembre2026 #Islàndia #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

HRAFNABLÓT (Islàndia) presenta nou àlbum: "Guðlaugar saga" #Hrafnablót #FolkMetal #Setembre2026 #Islàndia #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Wake up!! its weekend ... wacken make some noise! 🤘🏽

🎵 Eluveitie - Deathwalker - Live at Wacken Open Air 2019 🎵

:youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7WJdkdkwso

#music #livemusic #wacken #metal #eluveitie #FolkMetal #CelticMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #CelticFolk #CelticMusic #DeathMetal #PaganMetal #Metal #FolkMusic #EuropeanMetal #MetalMusic #Celtic #Gaulish #FolkDeathMetal

Wake up!! its weekend ... wacken make some noise! 🤘🏽

🎵 Eluveitie - Deathwalker - Live at Wacken Open Air 2019 🎵

:youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7WJdkdkwso

#music #livemusic #wacken #metal #eluveitie #FolkMetal #CelticMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #CelticFolk #CelticMusic #DeathMetal #PaganMetal #Metal #FolkMusic #EuropeanMetal #MetalMusic #Celtic #Gaulish #FolkDeathMetal

Wake up!! its weekend ... wacken make some noise! 🤘🏽

🎵 Eluveitie - Deathwalker - Live at Wacken Open Air 2019 🎵

:youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7WJdkdkwso

#music #livemusic #wacken #metal #eluveitie #FolkMetal #CelticMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #CelticFolk #CelticMusic #DeathMetal #PaganMetal #Metal #FolkMusic #EuropeanMetal #MetalMusic #Celtic #Gaulish #FolkDeathMetal

Wake up!! its weekend ... wacken make some noise! 🤘🏽

🎵 Eluveitie - Deathwalker - Live at Wacken Open Air 2019 🎵

:youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7WJdkdkwso

#music #livemusic #wacken #metal #eluveitie #FolkMetal #CelticMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #CelticFolk #CelticMusic #DeathMetal #PaganMetal #Metal #FolkMusic #EuropeanMetal #MetalMusic #Celtic #Gaulish #FolkDeathMetal

Wake up!! its weekend ... wacken make some noise! 🤘🏽

🎵 Eluveitie - Deathwalker - Live at Wacken Open Air 2019 🎵

:youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7WJdkdkwso

#music #livemusic #wacken #metal #eluveitie #FolkMetal #CelticMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #CelticFolk #CelticMusic #DeathMetal #PaganMetal #Metal #FolkMusic #EuropeanMetal #MetalMusic #Celtic #Gaulish #FolkDeathMetal

Alle Infos zur vierten Ausgabe des Folkfield Festival

Von der Folk Rock-Band Schandmaul 2022 ins Leben gerufen, bietet das Folkfield Festival auch dieses Jahr wieder ein…
#Gelsenkirchen #Deutschland #Deutsch #DE #Schlagzeilen #Headlines #Nachrichten #News #Europe #Europa #EU #AlleInfos #Anfahrt #FolkMetal #FolkfieldFestival #Germany #Mittelalter #Nordrhein-Westfalen #Rock #RunningOrder #Schandmaul #Wetter
https://www.europesays.com/de/1293247/

Meschera - Legends of the Ancients 2025 (parts 1-3)

https://youtu.be/vMwRD2cUMng
https://youtu.be/x9z1FQYyCrw
https://youtu.be/eX_iatqhC3Q

#concert #music #FolkMetal #DarkFolk #russia

Home to cuckoo clocks, namesake gateaux,1 and Bollenhüte, Germany’s Schwarzwald (Black Forest) has functioned as folklore fodder for centuries. Ever since dropping debut EP Wiege der Finsternis, Finsterforst has mined their homeland for inspiration, and after five albums they’re Still at it. Though only three years removed from 2023’s EP Jenseits, Still is Finsterforst’s first proper album in seven years.2 If this is your Finsterfirst time experiencing the band’s wares, Finsterforst revels in long-form folk compositions that conjure the stateliness and beauty of nature, and on Still these Germaniacs deliver another generous portion of real-deal, certified folk magic. After so much time walking through the woods, does Still forge a better path, or has Finsterforst lost their way?

Fans of Finsterforst’s recent work should be pleased with Still, as the distinctly Deutsch niche they’ve carved out persists with a twist of noble melancholy. To mein ears, Still plays like folk/black metal garnished with Neue Deutsche Härte accents as they merge seismic riffs and sustained synths with atmospheric textures, cinematic orchestrations, and a staggering tonal depth. Early Finsterforst leaned heavily into folksy fun, where jaunty accordion leads and spirited bass punches draw comparisons to Korpiklaani and Turisas. As Finsterforst evolved, song lengths ballooned, and they pushed further into realms of mood and emotional swells. While vestiges of their early sound remain, Finsterforst now hews much closer to the likes of Moonsorrow, although instead of basking in the wintry waters of Scandinavian paganism, this German septet reveres the temperate charms of an enchanted wood.

From its outset, Still conjures the ethereal beauty of nature and merges it with crushing might and overwhelming pathos. Opener “Obduktion” kicks off with an airy lead before dropping the hammer with meticulously crafted riffs and synth accents that remind me of Rammstein and Eisbrecher. Yet Still doesn’t dramatically shift Finsterforst’s songwriting towards Neue Deutsche Härte—this facet has been a part of their sound for years. Rather, Finsterforst adopts a less-is-moar philosophy that makes the parallels stand out more starkly. For instance, “Stille Nacht” begins with a riff that recalls Rammstein’s “Mein Teil,” driving momentum with thick ‘n’ beefy muscle. Both “Knie Nieder” and “Herbstwanderung” expertly blend the heavy with the tender, and “Fels” glistens with acoustic guitar underpinning vocalist Olli Berlin’s mesmerizing vocals. And it’s here that Finsterforst unfetters their most potent weapon. Berlin’s vocals give me goosebumps each playthrough, and his impassioned barks and sonorous cleans proffer varied deliveries throughout Still. Yet more than that, they supply the perfect counterpoint to Finsterforst’s soundscape as the outfit maneuvers between impassioned discharges and reverb-saturated refrains supported by gorgeous choral elements and brassy orchestrations. Still captures Finsterforst at their most subtle and stripped down, where laying their arrangements bare exposes naked splendor.

Despite the extreme runtime of Still, Finsterforst retools their approach to make it more accessible. In his review of Mach Dich Frei, El Cuervo identified the record’s length as cumbersome taken all at once, even if the individual tracks succeeded. On Still, the songs boast more palatable lengths than LPs past, and here only final original track, “Leere” overstays its welcome at twenty-four minutes.3 The two covers at the end, Immortal’s “Beyond the North Waves” and Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. II” commendably adapt versions of the songs to Finsterforst’s own style, yet push the runtime an extra fourteen minutes that otherwise would have delivered the band’s most succinct album to date. More positively, the production has improved since Mach Dich Frei and Zerfall, and even though the DR score only suggests a modest improvement, Still sounds better than any of the band’s other recent output.

In a month with few highlights, Finsterforst’s Still shines as a welcome bright spot. Dynamic songwriting, masterful command of tension, and inspired performances litter the album. Finsterforst addresses past offenses by adding depth to the mix and demonstrating more economical songwriting song-by-song, even though Still’s overall length perpetuates Finsterforst’s reputation for bloat. Regardless, I often find myself lost in Still’s woods without caring about how long the walk is, as the sights along the way are unequivocally worth the stroll.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 31st, 2026

Four-and-a-half years after releasing debut T.S.N.R.I. – Impermanenza, Italian atmospheric folk/black outfit Duir returns with sophomore full-length Catarsi. Drawing similarities to Saor, Autrest, and Mossgiver, Duir plays a blend of black and folk metal rooted in evocative instrumentation—specifically the Irish flute, hurdy-gurdy, and bagpipes. Italian for ‘Catharsis,’ Catarsi tells the story of a World War I soldier caught at a crossroads of emotional turmoil and relays the narrative through six tracks totaling forty-seven minutes. Without a lyrics sheet or story details, I can’t comment on the tale itself, yet I admit it establishes a poignant backdrop for atmospheric metal. It’s evident that Duir possesses the skills and imagination to pull it off, but does Catarsi succeed in doing so.

What I enjoy best about Catarsi is Duir’s ability to construct rich layers of music overflowing with vivid textures. Their soundstage feels inhabited and natural, with folk instruments complementing the traditional juncture of guitars and drums. The resulting fusion entices with an understated beauty I heavily associate with folk-informed metal, allowing Duir to forge a path parallel to black metal while developing distinct aural tones besides. Compared to Impermanenza, Catarsi experiments with fewer components, focusing on a narrower scope of sounds and tempos. This allows Duir to fully explore their chosen milieu for the story they’re telling, though it also limits the paths Catarsi can take.

While the instrumentation skews Gaelic and Duir hails from Italy, Catarsi predominantly sounds regionally agnostic,1 imparting an ambiguous rustic charm to the music. Catarsi swells with sumptuous folds as TZ supplies Irish flute and hurdy-gurdy, instilling wonderfully welcome supplements to the tremolos and mournful keening (“Della notte”) of guitarists MK and Skryer. Ever propelling the action forward, drummer P wields a deft touch as he unleashes fierce rolls (“Di nessuno”) and restrained timekeeping (“Manifesto”) in equal measure. Vocalist Vox in Umbra delivers a vicious performance as well, scouring eardrums with his heart-rending rasps (“Manifesto,” “Oltre l’alba”). And though I’m a sucker for punchy bass performances, Duir neither has nor needs any on Catarsi.2 In all, the folk instruments supply ample counterpoints that engender the variety and depth that well-written bass lines typically apply to augment guitars and drums, begetting a well-balanced sonic spread on Catarsi.

I can’t deny that Duir’s performances here are genuinely stunning, yet as a whole, it leaves little impression once concluded. Most of this I attribute to the pervasive homogeneity across the album. Songs are winsome from moment to moment, but leave me with few anchor points to differentiate them. The guitars mostly trem-pick in steady rhythms or drop into passive, melancholic refrains, limiting Duir to only a couple modes of play. And although the flute and hurdy-gurdy bring an extra dimension to proceedings, making them more of a melodic centerpiece would have gone further than utilizing them as accents and flourishes. To be fair, I suspect I’m missing a key component by knowing there’s a story to Catarsi while being ignorant of the details, yet I wish Duir employed more obvious contrasts between the tracks. T.S.N.R.I. – Impermanenza better separated themes and motifs, and while Catarsi’s compositions are more mature, stronger song identities could have reduced the perception of uniformity. Still, Duir prevails on other fronts. The DR score of 8 strongly supports the complexity of their arrangements, and L.G.’s3 guest vocals on “Impeto” yield a clever change-of-pace midway through the album.

Though some flaws hold Catarsi back, Duir can clearly craft absorbing metal. It’s impossible to deny the allure of their music, and any song in isolation sells the vision of Duir’s niche in black metal. All told, though, I struggle to discern the nuances within Catarsi’s design, and without mile markers to segregate passages, its songs can easily slip into the background rather than demanding attention. Even so, Catarsi offers plenty of redeeming moments, and I expect other fans of this style may find more to love than I did.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

Sorry, but I can’t resist: It was in the month of May that I sat down to review the newest album by the British folk-rockers Albion, titled It Was In The Month of May I.1 This gaggle of self-declared whippersnappers blew this reviewer away with their 2024 album Lakesongs of Elbid. What started as an unassuming filter piece grew on me more and more to the point it made my (and my co-conspirator Killjoy’s) end-of-year list. Albion’s timeless, joyful folk-rock music has enjoyed constant rotations in the Hugebeard tower since then, and so a new album has been a hotly anticipated affair. Now that it’s in our hands, has Albion continued their trend for quality?

For those unfamiliar with Albion, they play a flute-heavy, wistful sort of progressive folk-rock that draws an obvious comparison to Jethro Tull and reminds me a great deal of Big Big Train. For those a little more familiar, it’s worth mentioning that It Was In The Month of May has somewhat toned down the already limited metal crunch that graced Lakesongs of Elbid. Rest assured, this is no criticism, as this album remains energetic and adventurous in all the right ways. The opening prelude, “Mis Mai,” followed by the first true foray into the album’s essence, “The Green Knight,” demonstrate Albion’s sonic strengths right out of the gates. “Mis Mai” highlights the dulcet pipes of Joe Parrish-James as he lathers the song’s Welsh lyrics in decadent velvet, while “The Green Knight” starts the album in usual Albion fashion with grandiose flute melodies explored atop galloping guitar strumming.

What I love about Albion’s music, and what they maintain in It Was In The Month of May, is a sense of effortlessness. The music is fun, it’s accessible, it’s breezy, it’s comfortably warm and full of well-crafted little moments so crisp and yet so obvious it almost makes you wonder how no one else thought of it first. The pub-rock verse of “Down With The Hero” and the epic call-and-response between the flutes and guitars in the middle of “Calan Mai” come especially to mind. In the album’s longer songs, Albion are quite eager to just let the music run free through the meadow in spacious explorations of riffs and solos, but it never feels aimless. The melodies of “The Green Knight” and “Eldest” in particular see the guitars and flutes bounce merrily along in an endless up-and-down like the rolling hills stretching before you as you prepare for adventure. The closer, “Calan Mai,” is the longest at ten minutes, but even at its most unrestrained, the song’s melodies wield graceful finality in a way that always feels satisfying.

It Was In The Month of May is almost 20 minutes shorter than its predecessor, Lakesongs, which makes for an overall cleaner listening experience. However, the album’s pacing does waver a little by over-saturating the latter half with lower-energy tunes. I really quite love “Hymn to Elbereth,” as it has this gently twisting nature to it that happily makes me think of Glass Hammer, but it’s misplaced between the otherwise pleasantly acoustic “She Is The River” and the ballad “Cherry Hill,” making for an overly languid sequence of songs. “Cherry Hill” in particular leans a bit too heavily on chorus repetition for its six-minute runtime. Still, the album ends on the right note with “Calan Mai,” and there are no other noteworthy structural issues or damaging patterns affecting the album. However, I simply must mention the “la-da-da’s” and “doo-do-do’s” in the chorus of “Down With The Hero.” I don’t mind vocalizations at all and they work perfectly well as little interstitial passages like in “Eldest,” but I find it to be a heavily misguided choice for them to carry the chorus of the album’s most upbeat song.

It Was In The Month of May is warm, adventurous, inviting, and once again, and I simply cannot stress this enough, extraordinarily British. While this album never gripped me quite like Lakesongs of Elbid did, the final word on this review is nevertheless one of eager positivity. Albion is a band I tend to think of no matter the musical flavor I’m looking for, and It Was In The Month of May only furthers that trend. This is music that is just so pleasant to listen to, no matter the day, and there are some damn good bangers to be found here for any fan of folk, British rock, or prog.

Rating: Good!
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: FLAC
Label: Self-Release
Websites: official | facebook | bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: May 26th, 2026

Killjoy

In the year 2021, I unexpectedly became acquainted with the debut EP of a very special folk rock group from England. The potential that Albion showed on Pryderi was immediately obvious, and I longed for more. My wish was granted in 2024 by the whopping 70-minute full-length debut Lakesongs of Elbid, for which my esteemed colleague (and now review partner), Mystikus Hugebeard, wrote a splendid filter piece. Albion has wasted no time since then, here to regale our ears again with cheery tunes. It Was in the Month of May seeks to honor the magical time of year when spring sunsets and will soon cede to warmer temperatures.

Albion’s music is wholesome for the soul, whispering to the part of human consciousness that yearns for carefree meadows and being in nature. They primarily achieve this through the exquisite pairing of flute and guitars (both acoustic and electric). This, of course, invites comparisons to Jethro Tull,2 although Albion perhaps hews a bit closer to folk music. Take, for example, the beautiful acoustic guitar fingerpicking and Welsh singing3 in “Mis Mai.” Further, Albion plays a more modernized style of rock than Jethro Tull. “Down with the Hero” is a rousing, ultra-catchy pub rock number and the guitarwork in “The Green Knight” is elaborate, sounding like a slightly slower and proggier Dark Forest. The way that Albion harmoniously blends the old with the new is genuinely refreshing.

It Was in the Month of May similarly succeeds in striking a balance between humble and epic. In both the quiet and upbeat moments, there is an air of unassuming regality. Therefore, it makes perfect sense that Albion composed a pair of songs about Tolkien’s characters Tom Bombadil and his wife, Goldberry. “Eldest (Tom Bombadil)” contains gorgeous guitar and flute swells evoking endless verdant hillsides, as well as a Celtic folk-influenced jig reminiscent of Tuatha de Danann or Braia. “She Is the River (Goldberry)” is entirely acoustic and percussion-less (save for hand claps), with sunny guitar strumming and pleasantly poetic lyrics. Continuing with Tolkien subject matters, “Hymn to Elbereth” features vocal harmonization by Joe and Rhiannon Parrish-James which is as fair as the elves who Frodo, Sam, and Pippin overheard singing these very words in The Fellowship of the Ring. Rhiannon adds her voice to Joe’s at various other times throughout the record, and I would love to hear her take center stage in the future.

Overall, It Was in the Month of May is sharper and more focused than its predecessor. As much as I loved Lakesongs of Elbid, opening with a 9-and-a-half minute instrumental track didn’t help it find its footing. “The Green Knight,” the first full song here, isn’t much shorter but its structure is more disciplined, never wavering from its gallant, galloping theme. The other 8+ minute songs, “Eldest (Tom Bombadil)” and “Calan Mai,” also mostly justify their lengths, although the latter feels a bit meandering towards the end. But the larger issue with “Calan Mai” has to do with the track that precedes it. “Cherry Hill (Maya II)” hits like a lullaby, which might have been okay if it were 3 minutes instead of 6, so it ends up stifling the momentum leading into the ornate concluding track. I do appreciate that, with a total runtime of 52 minutes, It Was in the Month of May is easier to listen to in one sitting.

It Was in the Month of May is great for drifting away and forgetting one’s troubles for a while. The uplifting compositions are easy on the ears while offering bountiful details to uncover during return visits. “Cherry Hill (Maya II)” is the main thing holding it back from unqualified greatness. That said, if Albion continues refining their songcraft at this pace, the next album will surely shatter our score safety counter. So, kick back and enjoy time outside with loved ones. It Was in the Month of May is an excellent way to ring in summer in the Northern Hemisphere.

Rating: 3.5/5.0

Melodic death metal had a banner year in 2025, brandishing outstanding releases from Aephanemer, Vittra, Buried Realm, Aversed, and others. Given that many of melodeth’s top tier releases came out in the back half of last year, there’s no cause for alarm yet, but with the exception of At the Gates’ opus The Ghost of a Future Dead, I can’t help feeling 2026 is off to a slow start.1 Throwing down the gauntlet with Old Gods Awaken, Vancouver collective Atavistia stakes their claim on this year’s melodeath throne. In his review of Cosmic Warfare, Doom_et_al noted that Atavistia made meaningful strides in songwriting since The Winter Way, but that plenty of room exists to further define an identity outside of Wintersun’s shadow. With the spotlight shining on folk metal influences throughout Old Gods Awaken, can Atavistia maintain their velocity after Cosmic Warfare, or would it have been better to let sleeping gods lie?

For anyone who’s read about Atavistia at AMG before, you know there’s one band whose temple even these Old Gods pray at.2 If you expected that to change, shame on you. With their most flagrant foray into folk metal to date, Atavistia doubles down on Wintersun worship with Old Gods Awaken while succumbing to a feverish case of Ensiferumania. On the surface, this may sound like Atavistia regressing back towards The Winter Way, but instead the band continues to refine the overwrought compositions that Doomy dinged in that review and delivers a succinct forty-three minutes of symphonic melodeath. And though Wintersun and Ensiferum cast the longest shadows, shades of Children of Bodom and Kalmah broaden Old Gods Awaken’s footprint and enrich its well of influences.

Despite Atavistia’s new musical folk-us and turning over half the band since Cosmic Warfare, they submit well-conceived orchestrations and tight performances throughout Old Gods Awaken. Specifically, Atavistia bade farewell to guitarist Dalton Meaden and bassist D’wayne Murray in 2024, welcoming Elia Baghbaniyan and Spencer Budworth in their stead. The quality of instrumentation remains consistent with previous albums, where guitars and synths steal the show as they trade earwormy melodic lines (“Mystic Tavern,” “I Skogens Djup”) that lead into heartfelt solos (“Goddess of My Dreams,” “Ride the White Storm”) and stirring, rustic breaks (“To a New World”). The haunting choirs on Cosmic Warfare have also been replaced by viking gang chants, which makes sense stylistically, but loses some of the flair that helped the former stand out. Longtime drummer Max Sepulveda lays down a commendable performance as well, spicing songs up with well-crafted fills that never overpower Old Gods Awaken’s dense compositions. Besides contributing guitar and supplying his best vocal performance to date, Atavistia ringleader Matt Sippola weaves together a rousing album that stands beside its inspirations.

While Atavistia successfully plunges headlong into folk, the move erodes some of the identity they established previously. Tracks on Cosmic Warfare recalled Wintersun, but just as much reminded me of Brymir and the choral arrangements in The Phantom Menace. Old Gods Awaken forsakes these subtle nods, and though that isn’t bad on its own, the Ensiferum influence is a safer path that deteriorates some of Atavistia’s idiosyncrasies. Additionally, some of the melodies and song structures on Old Gods Awaken blur together. “Mystic Tavern,” “Seeker of Time,” and “Goddess of My Dreams”3 all have similar-sounding leads, and the first two also have somewhat predictable compositions that stand out since the songs are back-to-back, particularly in terms of pacing and the timing of more subdued moments. Ultimately, these are minor complaints on very well-executed material, but diversifying the song structures could unveil even greater heights.

Old Gods Awaken subverts my expectations of what I thought a new Atavistia record would sound like, and even though they lean into a well-defined arena, they do so capably. Monster hooks and intricate, engaging arrangements keep the replay value of Old Gods Awaken tantalizingly high, especially with tight songwriting across the album. I’m curious where Atavistia goes next, as there’s no clear indication of what direction they’ll take. Whatever it is, the persistent urge to evolve their songcraft proves Atavistia will make it interesting and fun, and that every once in a while, you can teach Old Gods new tricks.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

Today's music:

VALHALORE - Within the Fire

https://youtu.be/6xnEAXKZUXM

#metal #FolkMetal #EpicMetal #australia #music #np #NowPlaying #MastoMusic

Waldgeflüster – Knochengesänge I and Knochengesänge II Review

By Killjoy

Waldgeflüster has been around for a while. Based in Bavaria, Germany and led by Winterherz, they’ve been weaving nature-themed atmospheric black metal since 2009. Waldgeflüster has passed through the hands of several atmoblack aficionados before me. El Cuervo enjoyed the Panopticon/Waldgeflüster split in 2016 but was less impressed by Ruinen later that year. Doom_et_Al found 2021’s Dahoam to be disappointing and unmemorable. Waldgeflüster used the four years since then to create double albums Knochengesänge I and Knochengesänge II. I is a more traditional atmoblack record, while II is a reconstruction of the same melodies from the standpoint of various non-metal musical genres. An intriguing idea, to be sure. Is Knochengesänge so nice you’ll want to listen to it twice?

That may not be entirely accurate because, despite being born from the same place, Knochengesänge I and II grew into very different beasts. I will sound much more familiar to those who know Waldgeflüster’s prior work. It shares a deep kinship with the folksy trem-picking of Panopticon, not to mention that both groups put out double albums this year. Austin and Bekah Lunn even directly contributed their musical and photographic talents to Knochengesänge. II is a patchwork of different musical styles. It ranges from acoustic folk (“Das Klagelied der Krähen”) to overcast post-rock (“Frankfurt, 19. März,” “The Little King and His Architect”) to semi-upbeat alt-rock (“A Crusade in the Dark”). Both records conclude with different renditions of the traditional Scottish song “The Parting Glass.”

Knochengesänge I sees Waldgeflüster attempting to escape the shadow of similar, more influential atmospheric black metal groups. It’s telling that, despite the band’s longevity, no AMG writer to date has ever tagged Waldgeflüster in another band’s review as a reference point. Indeed, much of I passes uneventfully in a Harakiri for the Sky haze, but I tend to like it best when Waldgeflüster adds their own folksy flavor. The melodies of “Der kleinste König und sein Architekt” are especially crisp, and the song really comes into its own at the end when it transitions to a warm folk section with hearty clean singing and subtle violin strings. Charlie Anderson’s violin appears frequently, adding a great deal of poignancy. “Knochengesang” and “Bamberg, 20. Juni” are other notable examples of Waldgeflüster using strings to elevate their sound.

Since this is a double album, you already know what the primary flaw of Knochengesänge is—bloat. However, the problem runs deeper than mere minute count. Even if each track were halved in length, many would still have an uphill battle maintaining my attention. This is the case with both parts but particularly true of II, most of which seemed to drag on for an eternity. The greatest exception is “Singing of Bones” almost at the very end of II, a pleasant folk number with acoustic guitar and violin working in tandem. Even though II is all over the place stylistically, most of it isn’t so wildly different from I that it couldn’t have conceivably been integrated. I even tried reordering the tracks into each album’s corresponding pairs and found that many covered each other’s weaknesses decently well (again, except for bloat), which supports my suspicion that these two mediocre albums could have been distilled into one really good album.

Knochengesänge began with an interesting double album premise that, sadly, yielded little of note during its 109-minute combined runtime. I and II may be highly symmetrical but they are only mildly codependent. I can’t recommend listening to them back to back and, in fact, II can be safely disregarded by most listeners. Fans of the Panopticon aesthetic should find enough to enjoy in I, but it may fall a bit flat for everyone else, especially given that newcomers like Autrest are offering a much more potent take on this type of atmoblack. A frustrating refusal to self-edit is what holds both records back the most; nearly every track is 8 minutes or longer, and few fully justify their length. I respect Waldgeflüster’s desire to explore new musical avenues and I’ll keep an eye on them in the future, but I don’t expect to return much to Knochengesänge.

Rating: I: 2.5/5.0 | II: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: blackmetalwaldgefluester.bandcamp.com | waldgefluester.com | facebook.com/blackmetalwaldgefluester
Releases Worldwide: November 7th, 2025

#20 #25 #2025 #AOPRecords #AtmosphericBlackMetal #Autrest #FolkMetal #GermanMetal #HarakiriForTheSky #KnochengesängeI #KnochengesängeII #NotMetal #Nov25 #Panopticon #Review #Reviews #Waldgeflüster

Cemican – U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj Review

By Kenstrosity

Hailing from Guadalajara, Mexico, folk-death septet Cemican caught my attention way back in 2019 with their third record, In Ohtli Teoyohtica In Miquiztli. Boasting strong riffcraft and a penchant for chimeric songwriting, Cemican’s unique style and compelling subject matter challenged what I expected from the death metal scene at the time. Focused on bringing to the fore the sounds, rhythms, and even the language of pre-Mexican indigenous peoples (specifically, Mayan), Cemican’s mission serves a cultural spirit lost to time colonialism. Depicting tales of ancient Mayan gods and legends, and based on the mysticism and ideology of Mayan culture, upcoming fourth outing, U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj, quickly earned my undivided attention.

U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj sees Cemican at their heaviest and most adventurous yet. Pounding drums of various disciplines hit with the impact of a titan’s fist on sacred ground, as roaring growls and ethereal chants swirl amongst stomping riffs and tempestuous tremolos. Soaring atop these storming pyrotechnics, an assortment of flutes (played by no fewer than five of Cemican’s seven musicians) sing ancestral melodies, sometimes in lockstep with the modern metallics, other times as an uplifting counterpoint. A rebellious heavy metal spirit influences a fair portion of Cemican’s songwriting this time around, going so far as to step boldly into the spotlight and overwrite the record’s death metal core entirely, twice (“El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas,” “¿Dónde estás?”). Regardless of what corporeal form it takes, though, Cemican’s sound is epic, ancient, and massive.

At an hour and seven minutes, U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj sounds like a bloated mass desperate for self-editing on paper. Yet, six years of careful attention to detail result in 12 songs that all have something interesting and memorable to take home, and a wealth of ideas that support and even elevate those takeaways. Killer riffs in “Yóok ‘ol kaab Maya” work in tandem with wild flutes, squealing solos, and a somewhat unsteady chorus that feels natural in context with the composition, where it would feel clumsy elsewhere. Brutal speed intensifies “Los Guardianes de la Tierra” as blackened winds chill companion piece “Hun-Came” to the bone, creating a thrilling but well-timed shift from the chunky grooves of earlier bangers like “Tán tí le Xibalba” and powerful opener “Kukulkán Wakah Chan.” Even Cemican’s long-form excursions, which build sturdy bridges between tribal instrumentals, deadly heft, and ethereal melodicism, boast a compelling multitude of ideas, buttery-smooth transitions, and rich textures that easily justify their protracted runtimes (“Viaje Astral del Quetzal de Fuego,” “Horizonte de Almas”).

Of course, with so many ideas stuffed into one work, there are bound to be some kinks. For Cemican, those hiccups largely surface when they shift styles with no telegraphing. Such outliers as “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” and “¿Dónde estás?” are good songs on their own. In particular, it’s surprising how successful “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” is as a heavy/power epic. However, there’s very little connective tissue—right down to the lighter and cleaner guitar tone—that explains its existence in the album context, other than subject matter. “¿Dónde estás?” damages album cohesion in much the same way, and with somewhat less success than its album-mate due to less memorable writing and ballad-like wistfulness. Without these tracks, not only would U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj clock in at a more reasonable 56 minutes total, but it would feel more consistent and smooth. That said, “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” would’ve made an excellent bonus track or even just a separate single that I’d happily recruit for playlist duty.

In sum, Cemican solidify their status as one of the more interesting acts in the death metal universe. Their adoption of indigenous music as part of their formula goes a long way towards setting them apart from their peers sonically, but it’s their fearless songwriting and meticulous detailing that seals the deal. U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj represents their most refined and compelling work to date, and while it has its missteps, even those would find purchase on another record better built to support them. It just goes to show how talented and skilled Cemican are. With this in mind, I look forward to spending more time enjoying U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj, a qualified, but unique triumph.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: M-Theory Audio
Websites: cemican1.bandcamp.com/album/u-kuukankil-mayakaaj | facebook.com/pages/CEMICAN/320421353267
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025

#2025 #35 #Cemican #DeathMetal #FolkMetal #HeavyMetal #MTheoryAudio #MelodicDeathMetal #MexicanMetal #Oct25 #Review #Reviews #UKUUkAnkilMayakaaj

Stuck in the Filter: July 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

If you thought June was hot, you aren’t ready for what July has in store. The thin metallic walls of these flimsy ducts warp and soften as the sweltering environs continue to challenge the definition of “habitable.” But I must force my minions to continue their work, as this duty is sacred. Our ravenous appetites cannot be slaked without the supplementary sustenance the Filter brings!

Thankfully, we rescued just enough scraps to put together a meager spread. Enjoy in moderation!

Kenstrosity’s Blackened Buds

Echoes of Gloom // The Mind’s Eternal Storm [July 12th, 2025 – Self-Release]

Queensland isn’t my first thought when considering locales for atmospheric black metal. A genre so often built upon frigid tones and icy melodies feels incongruous to the heat and beastliness of the Australian landscape. Yet, one-man atmoblack act Echoes of Gloom persists. Masterminded by one Dan Elkin, Echoes of Gloom evokes a warm, muggy, and morose spirit with debut record The Mind’s Eternal Storm. But unlike many of the atmospheric persuasion, Echoes of Gloom also injects a classic heavy metal attack and a vaguely punky/folky twist into their formula to keep interest high (“Immortality Manifest,” “Throes of Bereavement I”). Furthermore, Echoes of Gloom weaponizes their energetic take on depressing atmoblack such that even as my head bounces to the riffy groove of surprisingly propulsive numbers like “The Wandering Moon” and “Great Malignant Towers of Delirium,” a palpable pall looms ever present, sapping all color from life as I witness this work. This in turn translates well to the long form, as demonstrated by the epic two-part “Throes of Bereavement” suite and ripping ten-minute closer “Wanderer of the Mind’s Eternal Storm,” boasting dynamics uncommon in the atmospheric field. In sum, if you’re the kind of metal fan that struggles with the airier side of the spectrum, The Mind’s Eternal Storm might be a good place to start.

Witchyre // Witchy Forest Dance Contest [July 14th, 2025 – Self-Release]

Germany’s Witchyre answer a question nobody asked but everyone should: what would happen if black metal and dance music joined forces? With debut LP Witchy Forest Dance Contest, we get to experience this mad alchemy firsthand, and it is an absolute joy! The staunchly anti-fascist Witchyre take the raw sound everyone knows and pumps it full of groove, bounce, and uninhibited fun for a raucous 46 minutes. Evoking equal parts Darude and Darkthrone, bangers like “Let There be Light…,” “Witchy Forest Dance Party,” and “Lost in a Dream” burst with infectious energy that feels demonic and exuberant at the same time. The raw production of the metallic elements shouldn’t work with the glossy sheen of electronic doots, but Witchyre’s often pop-punky song structure that develops as these divergent aesthetics collide adeptly bridges the gap (“Spirits Twirling,” “The Vampire Witch,” “Dragon’s Breath”). My main gripe is that even at a reasonable 46 minutes, each song feels a bit bloated, and some dance elements feel recycled in multiple places (“The Spirits Robbed My Mind”). But don’t let that scare you away. Witchyre is a delightful little deviation from convention fit for fans of Curta’n Wall and Old Nick, and everyone should give it a whirl just for fun!

Owlswald’s Hidden Hoots

Sheev // Ate’s Alchemist [July 11th, 2025 – Ripple Music]

While stoner can be hit-or-miss, Ripple Music often delivers the goods. And with Berlin’s Sheev, they can add another notch to their sativa-flavored belt. Since 2017, the four-piece has been brewing their unique, progressive-infused stoner rock sound. On their second full-length, Ate’s Alchemist, Sheev doubles down on their sonic elixir, with a throwback prog-rock vibe that evokes the likes of Yes and Jethro Tull, but with heavy doses of grunge, jam and modern rock. Vocalist Nitzan Sheps’ provides a stripped-down and authentic performance, sounding like a cross between Muse’s Matt Bellamy and Alice in Chains’ Layne Staley. The rhythm section is particularly great here. Drummer Philipp Vogt’s kit work is exceptionally musical, with intricate cymbal patterns on tracks like “Elephant Trunk,” “Cul De Sac,” and “King Mustard II” that fuel deep-pocket grooves. He also provides Tool-like syncopated rhythms on tracks like “Tüdelüt” and “Henry” that lock with bassist Joshan Chaudhary. Chaudhary’s bass playing is rare in its prominence and clarity in the mix. He maintains a tight pocket while also venturing out regularly with nimbler, adventurous flurries that highlight his technical skill. Yeah, a couple of the longer songs get a little lost, but the album is packed with killer musicianship and vocal hooks that stick with you, so it barely matters. Overall, Sheev has delivered a solid record that I’ll be spinning a lot—and you should too.

Dephosphorus // Planetoktonos [July 18th, 2025 – Selfmadegod Records/7 Degrees Records/Nerve Altar]

Space…the final grind-tier. On their fifth album, Planetoktonos (“Planetkiller”), Greek astro-grind quartet Dephosphorus rejects normal grind classifications and instead annihilates worlds with a brutal, interstellar collision of grind, blackened death, and hardcore. Taking inspiration from the harsh sci-fi of James S.A. Corey’s The Expanse, Planetoktonos is a relentless twenty-eight-minute assault—a sonic asteroid belt of thick, menacing distortion and time-warped drumming that channels Dephosphorus’ raw, furious energy. “The Triumph of Science and Reason” and “After the Holocaust” attack with the ruthless speed of Nasum while others, such as “The Kinetics of a Superintelligence Explosion,” “Hunting for Dyson Spheres,” and “Calculating Infinity,” punctuate sludgy aggression with razor-sharp, shredding passages reminiscent of early Mastodon that offer contrasting technical and rhythmic hostility. Vocalist Panos Agoros’ despairing howls are a particular highlight, full of a gravelly, blackened urgency that sounds the alarm for an interplanetary attack. Gang vocals on tracks like “Living in a Metastable Universe” and “The Kinetics of a Superintelligence Explosion” add extra weight to his frantic performance, proving Dephosphorus can incinerate worlds and still have a blast doing it. Raw, intense, and violent, Planetokonos is a must-listen for fans seeking Remission-era energy.

Tyme’s Tattered Treats

Mortual // Altars of Brutality [July 4th, 2025 – Nuclear Winter Records]

From the fetid rainforests of Costa Rica, San Jose’s Mortual dropped their sneaky good death metal debut, Altar of Brutality, on Independence Day this year. Free of frills and fuckery, Justin Corpse and Master Killer—both have guitar, bass, and vocal credits here—go for the jugular, providing swarms of riffs entrenched in filthy, Floridian swamp waters and powdered with Jersey grit. Solo work comes fast, squealy, and furious as if graduated from the Azagthothian school of shred (“Dominion of Eternal Blasphemy,” “Skeletal Vortex”), as hints of early Deicide lurk within the chugging chunks of “Altar of Brutality” and whiffs of early Monstrosity float amongst the speedier nooks and crannies of “Divine Monstrosity.”1 Incantationally cavernous, the vocals fit the OSDM mold to a tee, sitting spaciously fat and happy within Dan Lowndes’ great mix and master, which consequently draws out a bestial bass sound that permeates the entirety of Altar of Brutality with low-end menace. Chalo’s (Chemicide) drum performance warrants particular note, as, from the opening tom roll of “Mortuary Rites,” he proceeds to bash skulls throughout Altar of Brutality’s swift thirty-five-minute runtime with a brutal blitz of double-kicking and blast-beating kit abuse. Embodying a DIY work ethic that imbues these tracks with youthful energy and a wealth of death metal character, Mortual aren’t looking to reinvent the wheel as much as they’d like to crush you under its meaty treads, over and over again.

Stomach // Low Demon [July 18th, 2025 – Self-Release]

Droney, doomy, sweaty, and sludgy as fuck, Stomach’s blast furnace second album, Low Demon, is the antithesis of summer-fun metal. Hailing from Geneva, Illinois, Stomach is drummer/vocalist John Hoffman (Weekend Nachos) and guitarist Adam Tomlinson (Sick/Tired, Sea of Shit), who capably carry out their cacophonous work in such a way as to defy the fact that they’re only a duo.2 At volume, and believe me, you’ll want to crank this fucker to eleven, Low Demon will have you retching up all that light beer you drank by the pool and crying for yer mom, as “Dredged” oozes, rib-rattling from the speakers, a continuous, four-and-a-half-minute chord-layered exercise in exponentially applied tonal pressure. With five tracks spanning just over forty-three minutes, there’s not a lot on Low Demon that’s in a hurry, and aside from sections of up-tempo doom riffs (“Get Through Winter”) and some downright grindery (“Oscillate”) offering respite from the otherwise crushing wall of sound, listening to Stomach is akin to being waterboarded with molasses. Heavy influences from Earth, Sunn O))), Crossed Out, and Grief—whose Come to Grief stands as a sludge staple—form the basis for much of Stomach’s sound, and while Primitive Man and Hell draw apt comparisons as well, I’m guessing you know what you’re getting into by now. Maniacally cinematic and far from light-hearted, Stomach’s Low Demon was everything I didn’t think I needed during this hot and humid-as-an-armpit-in-hell summer.

Killjoy’s Flutes of Fancy

Braia // Vertentes de lá e cá [July 10th, 2025 – Self-Release]

Bruno Maia is one of the most inventive and hardworking musicians that I know of. Best known for the whimsical Celtic folk metal of Tuatha de Danann, he also has his own folk rock side project, Braia. Vertentes de lá e cá explores the rich history and culture of the Minas Gerais state in his native country, Brazil.3 Bursting with more sweetness than a ripe mango, Vertentes de lá e cá sports a huge diversity of musical styles and instruments. A combination of flute, viola, and acoustic guitar forms the backbone of most of the songs, like the Irish jigs in “Vertentes” or the flitting melodies of “Princesa do Sul.” My ears also detect accordion (“O Cururu do Ingaí”), saxophone (“Serra das Letras”), harmonica (“Hipólita”), banjo (“Carrancas”), and spacey synth effects (“Pagode Mouro”). That last one might sound out of place, but it makes more sense after learning of the local tales of extraterrestrial encounters. Maia sings in only two of the twelve tracks (“Emboabas” and “Rei do Campo Grande”), but all 41 minutes should be engaging enough for listeners who are typically unmoved by instrumental music. Though thematically focused on one specific location, Vertentes de lá e cá deserves to be heard by the entire world.

Storchi // By Far Away [July 25th, 2025 – Self-Release]

I would guess that the “experimental” tag causes some degree of trepidation within most listeners. However, occasionally an artist executes a fresh new vision so confidently that I can’t help but wonder if it’s secretly been around for a long time. Storchi, an instrumental prog group from Kabri, Israel, utilizes a flute in creative ways. Its bright, jazzy demeanor almost functions as a substitute for a vocalist in terms of expressiveness and personality. The Middle Eastern flair combined with modest electronic elements reminds me of Hugo Kant’s flute-heavy multicultural trip-hop. The chunky palm-muted guitar and bass borrow the best aspects of djent alongside eccentrically dynamic drum tempos. There is premeditation amidst the chaos, though. The triplet tracks “Far,” “Further,” and “Furthest” scattered throughout By Far Away each offer a unique rendition of the same core flute tune. “Lagoona” and “Smoky” make good use of melodic reprisals at the very end to neatly close the loop on what might have otherwise felt like more disjointed songs. Despite frequent and abrupt stylistic shifts, Storchi manages to make the 31-minute runtime of By Far Away feel more enjoyable than jolting. Flute fanatics should take note.

ClarkKent’s Addictive Addition

Daron Malakian and Scars on Broadway // Addicted to the Violence [July 19th, 2025 – Scarred for Life]

Since System of a Down disbanded, guitarist Daron Malakian has gone on to release 3 full-length albums under the moniker Scars on Broadway between 2008 and 2025. This spinoff project has proven Malakian to be the oddball of the group, and this goofiness hasn’t mellowed since SOAD’s debut released 27 years ago. The energetic set of tunes on Addicted to the Violence mixes nu-metal, groove rock, and pop with plenty of synths to create some fun and catchy beats. Sure, you have to delve through some baffling lyrics,4 such as when Malakian sings that there’s “a tiger that’s riding on your back / And it’s singing out ‘Rawr! Rawr!'” (“Killing Spree”). Malakian also turns to the familiar theme of drug addiction that he and Serj have explored from “Sugar” to “Heroine” to “Chemicals.”5 This time around, it’s “Satan Hussein,” where he mixes Quaaludes and Vicodin with Jesus Christ. To offset the repetition within songs, Malakian has the sense to mix things up. There’s the nu-metal cuts of “Satan Hussein” and “Destroy the Power,” featuring energetic vocalizations and grooves, but there’s also a lot of pop (“You Destroy You”). The riffs may not be as wild or creative as times past, but Addicted to the Violence makes use of a variety of instruments that keep things fresh, from an organ (“Done Me Wrong”) to a mandolin (“You Destroy You”) to some sweet synth solos. There’s even a brief saxophone appearance to conclude the album. Yes, I know exactly what you’re thinking: “This sounds awesome!”

#2025 #7DegreesRecords #AddictedToTheViolence #AliceInChains #AltarsOfBrutality #AmericanMetal #AteSAlchemist #AtmosphericBlackMetal #AustralianMetal #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #Braia #BrazilianMetal #ByFarAway #Chemicide #CostaRicanMetal #CrossedOut #CurtaNWall #Dance #Darkthrone #DaronMalakianAndScarsOnBroadway #Darude #DeathMetal #Deathgrind #Deicide #Dephosphorus #Doom #DoomMetal #Drone #Earth #EchoesOfGloom #EDM #ExperimentalMetal #FolkMetal #FolkRock #GermanMetal #Gindcore #GreekMetal #Grief #GrooveMetal #Hardcore #Hell #HugoKant #InstrumentalMetal #IsraeliMetal #JethroTull #Jul25 #LowDemon #Mastodon #MelodicBlackMetal #Monstrosity #Mortual #Muse #Nasum #NerveAltar #NuMetal #NuclearWinterRecords #OldNick #Planetoktonos #PopMetal #PrimitiveMan #ProgressiveMetal #RawBlackMetal #Review #Reviews #RippleMusic #ScarredForLife #SeaOfShit #SelfRelease #SelfmadegodRecords #Sheev #SickTired #Sludge #SludgeMetal #Stomach #StonerDoom #StonerMetal #Storchi #StuckInTheFilter #StuckInTheFilter2025 #SunnO_ #SystemOfADown #TheMindSEternalStorm #Tool #TuathaDeDanann #VertentesDeLáECá #WeekendNachos #WitchyForestDanceContest #Witchyre #Yes

Stuck in the Filter: June 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

Sweat pours out of our pores. Heat blisters metal and scorches dirt. Power bills rise relentlessly, without mercy. These are the signs of summer in the brutal ductwork that is our hallowed Filter. But we continue onward in search of those metallic scraps that provide such unbridled joy to our masses. The only variable: who of my trusted team will survive this season, and who will perish in the service of this sacred duty?

We won’t know the answer until this article gets published. And when it is, the statistics will be fabricated and obfuscated accordingly. So ignore the death toll and instead peep the haul!

Kenstrosity’s Meanest Meanies

Shadow of Intent // Imperium Delirium [June 12th, 2025 – Self-Release]

For over a decade, Connecticut/Rhode Island melodic deathcore independents Shadow of Intent challenged the standards of the genre by offering album after album of ripping tracks filled with drama, clever songwriting, and demolishing vocal talent. In their catalog, Elegy was the one record of theirs that didn’t stick with me. However, Imperium Delirium rapidly righted the ship with 55 minutes of opulent, evil, and crushing melodic destruction. Raging through its first half without a single misstep, Imperium Delirium is a focused effort chock full of devastating heft, buttery smooth songwriting, and a favorable riffs-to-breakdowns ratio. The back half focuses on drama and orchestration just a touch more, but songs like “Feeding the Meatgrinder,” “Vehement Draconian Vengeance,” and “No Matter the Cost” still bring the violence required to annihilate entire planets. Championing this unending assault of killer tunes, Ben Duerr’s vocal performance is intimidating to say the least, easily reinforcing his rightful place as one of the very best extreme vocalists in the scene today. Of course, the record is still too long by about 10 minutes, and a fair amount of that bloat comes from the slightly overblown self-titled closer. Additionally, while I appreciate the reverent nod to the instrumental talent on “Apocalypse Canvas,” I don’t believe it adds enough to the story of this record. Nonetheless, Imperium Delirium might be one of my favorite Shadows of Intent, and I look forward to where it leads me next.

ClarkKent’s Literary Listen

Nightbearer // Defiance [June 13, 2025 – Testimony Records]

Anyone looking for a mashup of Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy and Gothenburg melodeath, look no further than the latest album from Germany’s Nightbearer. Defiance marks album number three in the band’s repertoire, and a continuation of their worship of fantasy epics.1 Right off the bat, the catchy harmonic guitar lead of “His Dark Materials” summons Dark Tranquillity and At the Gates. The guitar work by Dominik Hellmuth and Tristan Schubert is fantastic throughout–their creative melodies bring to mind lively outfits like Brymir. Michael Torka’s beastly growls and Manuel Lüke’s thunderous drumming add some brutality and weight to the harmonious riffs. A few songs even go full brutal death metal (“One Church Over All”, “Dying Knows No Bounds”). Perhaps the standout track comes from the 9-minute epic, “Ascension.” It starts with an eerie synth intro before breaking out into some of the best riffs on Defiance. Then, just as things settle down, the song builds back up and explodes into something straight from Blackwater Park-era Opeth. Overall, this is an impressive collection of songs that’s sure to scratch that HM-2 itch.

Tyme’s Juxtaposed Jotting

Lipoma // No Cure for the Sick [June 13th, 2025 – Gurgling Gore]

Melodic gore-grind. Yeah, it’s a thing. And California-based Lipoma’s new album, No Cure for the Sick, proves it’s a pretty fucking cool thing at that—the brainchild of one Max Pierce (aka Dr. Lipoma).2 Since going live in 2021, Lipoma has been insanely active, releasing a slew of splits and EPs along with two full-length albums: 2022’s Horrors of Pathology and 2023’s Odes to Suffering. And while Lipoma has steadily worked to make comparisons with fellow purveyors like Carcass, Lymphatic Phlegm, and Pharmacist less relevant, No Cure for the Sick moves things to a different ballpark, one full of Gothenburgian melodicism (“Cult of the Firehealers,” “Glory to the Blade”), post-metallic pop-punk optimism (“Cardiac Scars Forever,” “Psalms of Psoriasis”), indecipherable gurgles, and organ, which is what sets Lipoma’s No Cure for the Sick apart not only from previous efforts, but the pack in general. From the circus-like atmosphere shrouding opener “The Sea Surgeon,” Pierce’s use of organ permeates much of No Cure for the Sick’s forty minutes, buoying the melodic heaviness and excellent solo work with jig-like danceability (“Remedies of Pagan Medicine,” “Last Anatomy of Johan Ziegler,” “No Cure for the Sick”). Pierce’s melodically charged instrumentation, when juxtaposed against his gore-ground gurglings—a combo that works in a way it has no right to—sees Lipoma doing something I find wholly unique, a rarity in today’s digital age. I have had a ton of fun with No Cure for the Sick, and if you’ve not checked it out yet, do so post haste.

Iceberg’s Frosty Forget-Me-Nots

Puppe Magnetik // Laudans Deum [June 6th, 2025 – The Circle Music]

Laudans Deum is not for the faint of heart, if that album cover didn’t quite convince you. The debut compilation of Puppe Magnetik, the record dives deep into the recesses of the human psyche. Aina Virtanen weaponizes industrial metal, ambient, and drone, wrapped up in the stylings of the Weimar Republic. An accomplished classically-trained musician, Virtanen uses her clean vocals sparingly (“Who Will Sing This Sorrow,” “Labyrinth”) but to great effect, reminiscent of Diablo Swing Orchestra. But the accessibility stops there; Laudans Deum’s thirteen tracks are comprised of ambient meditations (“Moritat”), ear-splitting electronic barrages (“Suspendium, Rosarium et Crucifixu”), and mood music fit for a throwback horror movie (“The Pregnant Nun,” “Patient AV”). But within the graveyard are scattered moments of respite; the gorgeously rendered classical guitar of “Timeless Serenade” and the haunting vocals of “Laments From The Desert.” While the album is unforgivingly through-composed, making for an exceptionally difficult first listen, there’s something darkly endearing about it. I’m reminded of Sergei Prokofiev, the Russian composer whose music was often described as both grotesque and starkly beautiful. Puppe Magnetik have produced a challenging record, but it’s worth a listen for those who enjoy avant-garde music and the stranger, more terrifying corners of the aural arts.

All Men Unto Me // Requiem [June 27th, 2025 – The Larvarium]

A little more metal, but a lot more challenging, All Men Unto Me’s Requiem brings to bear the full weight of spiritual suffering. Requiem is a direct interpretation of the Latin Mass for the Dead, it’s eight tracks playing all the hits. Fuzzed out, half-time doom takes a supporting role in a record that heavily features pipe organ, acoustic guitar, and string leads. Rylan Greaves takes a unique approach here, subverting the natural tension and release of the rite by injecting clanging noise into passages normally reverent. Their vocal performance is the unrepentant star of the show, at times crystalline (“Introit”) at others sobbing (“Kyrie”) straining (“Agnus Dei”) and howling (“Sequentia”). The album takes its time to sink its claws into you, with long track lengths and extended droning chords requiring patience. But pay close attention to Greaves’ lyrics and you can’t help but be pulled into the raw, emotional drama of Requiem. The rising, ethereal sunset of “In Paradisum,” the falsetto whisper speaking “God knows what I’d be without you” against an impossibly high, ever so slightly off-key bell-tone. One’s left wondering the true meaning of that line as the track ends, and the dead remain silent. A powerful statement indeed.

Killjoy’s Fabulous Find

Fabula Rasa // Tome II: The Beyond [June 13th, 2025 – Self-Release]

The words “fabulous” and “fable” are interconnected, both derived from the Latin word “fabulosus.” And since folk music and power metal draw heavily from fables and myths, the portmanteau Fabula Rasa is a fitting name for a group that blends both genres. Following the lead of forebears Elvenking and early Mägo de Oz, this spirited crew from Düsseldorf, Germany, infuses what would otherwise be standard—but good!—heavy/power metal with lots of violin. The violin and guitar trade off playing the lead melodies, though the former tends to have greater emphasis. But fret not, shred-heads, for the guitar solos are also exemplary in the more power metal-leaning songs, like “Dragon Rising” and “Vengeance Is Mine.” The violin often carves its own folksy space, the cheery, zippy fiddling akin to Dalriada (“At Full Moon,” “Anthem of the North”). Most songs are energetic, but “Burning Innocence” is a pleasant surprise midway through the record, with hand drums and the other band members’ vocal contributions creating an intimate group setting. Don’t miss this charismatic performance from these fabulous musicians.

Maddog’s Sludgy Selection

Dimscûa // Dust Eater [June 3rd, 2025 – Self-Release]

While sludge is a dime a dozen, few bands scratch the same itch as Amenra’s best work. The UK’s Dimscûa aims to correct this oversight. Dust Eater opens with “Elder Bairn,” whose rhythmic riffs evoke the meditative power of LLNN. After this appetizer, the album’s interplay between brawn and heart rivals Amenra. While Dimscûa’s muscular riffs drive the album forward (“Existence/Futility”), Dust Eater stands out through its hypnotic melodies. The heartache in these melodies is palpable, magnified by tortured vocals that recall Julie Christmas. Because of this ebb and flow, the album never feels bloated despite its eight-minute average track length. For instance, “Existence/Futility” abandons and then suddenly resurrects its driving main riff, adding unexpected variety and lodging into my memory. Dust Eater’s climaxes sometimes fall short, like the fizzle-out ending of “The Dusteater.” But despite its imperfections, Dimscûa’s debut is a powerful outing in a neglected style.3

Dear Hollaback’s Ain’t No B-A-N-A-N-A-S

Various Artists // KPop Demon Hunters [Original Motion Picture Soundtrack] [June 20th, 2025 – Republic Records]4

Okay, look. Look. K-Pop is not metal, I get that. But the gang over at Sony concocted what just recently earned the title of Netflix’s most watched movie of all time, and holy shit, what a soundtrack.. I’d like to use the classic “my daughter made me do it” schtick but she only likes “Takedown.”5 KPop Demon Hunters creates insanely catchy pop music that’s also focused and intentional, a commentary on the rigid and flagellant nature of K-Pop alongside feel-good messages of self-acceptance and healing (“Golden,” “What It Sounds Like”). The focal girl group HUNTR/X does most of the heavy lifting, also tossing in enough pop culture-inclined battle hymns to make the republic jealous (“How It’s Done,” “Takedown”). Their on-screen rivals Saja Boys offer entendre-layered sugary pop (the infamous “Soda Pop”) and sinister Gregorian-influenced choruses (“Your Idol”). Beyond the novelty is intentionality: clever chord progressions that feel continually transcendent rather than stagnantly by-the-numbers (“What It Sounds Like”), diminuendos of authenticity among bombasts of a glossy sheen (“Golden”), touches of dissonance paired with unsettling slant rhymes (“Your Idol”), and rhythmic complexity building to ethereal climaxes of soaring belts (“Free”). While yes, I’m telling you to give it a spin, I am also giving excuses for why my review count dropped to critical this summer. Fuck off, I’m gonna be, gonna be golden.

#2025 #AllMenUntoMe #Ambient #AmericanMetal #AtTheGates #AvantGarde #Brymir #Carcass #Dalriada #DarkTranquility #Deathcore #Defiance #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Dimscûa #Drone #DustEater #Elvenking #FabulaRasa #FinnishMetal #FolkMetal #GermanMetal #GurglingGore #HeavyMetal #HUNTRX #ImperiumDelirium #IndustrialMetal #Jun25 #KPop #KPopDemonHunters #LaudansDeum #Lipoma #LymphaticPhlegm #MägoDeOz #MelodicDeathMetal #MelodicDeathcore #Nightbearer #NoCureForTheSick #Opeth #Pharmacist #PowerMetal #PuppeMagnetik #RepublicRecords #Requiem #Review #Reviews #SajaBoys #SelfRelease #SelfReleased #ShadowOfIntent #StuckInTheFilter #TestimonyRecords #TheCircleMusic #TheLarvarium #TomeIITheBeyond #UKMetal #VariousArtists

Burden of Ymir – The Long Winter Review

By Twelve

Joe Caswell of Sudbury, Canada first caught the attention of this blog in 2023, as the sole member of Drowstorm and Burden of Ymir. Both projects released albums in 2023, impressing all who wrote about them. In my case, Heorot was a fantastic introduction to the latter band, a blackened-yet-folky display of Viking metal that appealed to both my appreciation for mythologically-themed metal and my long–held belief that the accordion is the most metal of all the instruments. Now, just over two years later, Burden of Ymir return with its sixth full-length release (in as many years!): The Long Winter, with an album cover that promises just as much blackened goodness as we’ve come to hope for. At this point in the year, I’d love a long winter, but I’ll settle for some frosty metal if that’s what’s being offered!

At first glance, The Long Winter is exactly what you expect from Caswell and Burden of Ymir; the Norse influence is tangible, the black metal is blisteringly fast, and the accordion is present. And yet, The Long Winter is a darker, heavier record than its predecessor. Caswell does not hold back in the riffs department, and it’s a testament to his songwriting that The Long Winter feels heavy for the full forty-five minutes without sounding forced. Compared to Heorot, The Long Winter sees Burden of Ymir treading slightly less folk-y waters, focusing more on its black metal influences and allowing the concept to do some more of the lifting on the folk side. Songs like “Like Blood in the Snow” are angry, pulling no punches and letting riffs and blast beats shine. It’s recognizably Burden of Ymir, but sees a definitive step in a new—but still familiar—direction.

Still, folky fusion and blackened metal are two things Burden of Ymir do extremely well, and having the metal heavier only enhances the union. Opener “As Witches Under Cloak of Night” is a multifaceted gem with hooks, moody, tense interludes, and a galloping chorus that’ll have you setting sail before you know it. “Strange Craft” builds around an accordion lead in its intro into an unsettling, melodic journey through dark magic and black forests before exploding into black metal fury. “Another Seed of Yggdrasil” breaks out the clean singing for a mystical chorus that counterbalances Caswell’s rasps—as up to the task as ever, but at their most effective working alongside these more melodic elements. All this is to say that Caswell’s ability to blend black metal and Viking themes is as strong as ever, and The Long Winter is more enjoyable for it.

I’ve mentioned that The Long Winter dials back a bit on the “Viking” quality that was so apparent in Heorot, resulting in a listen that ultimately leans blacker and heavier than folky. The aforementioned accordion makes a few, brief appearances, and Caswell’s clean singing is much diminished. More notably, the hooky writing from Heorot is curiously absent; more songs are carried by riffs than leads, resulting in an overall less melodic listen. This makes tracks like “Strange Craft” and “As Witches Under Cloak of Night” stand out—they’re generally more energetic than the rest of the album, particularly the closing third. While it’s certainly all strong, it feels like the blend doesn’t quite mesh the way it should. There are a bunch of songs I love here, several that I like, and a few that feel like they’re there to beef up The Long Winter more so than entertain. They are entertaining—I can’t stress that enough—but I would hazard a guess that Burden of Ymir has a slightly different vision for The Long Winter than what I’ve personally experienced.

Still, Caswell is a great songwriter, strong guitarist, and knows his mythologies, meaning The Long Winter is a fun listen that continues his hot streak over several one-man projects, styles, and album releases. If black metal is your thing, there’s something for you here. If Viking folk is your thing, there’s something for you here. I won’t say it all comes together perfectly, but it doesn’t really have to. It just has to be enjoyable to listen to for most of an hour, and it is. If you like any of the above styles, I would happily recommend you take a break from the awful weather we’re having (read: warm) and enjoy a long winter instead.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Flowing Downward
Websites: burdenofymir.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/BurdenOfYmir
Releases Worldwide: July 4th, 2025

#2025 #30 #BlackMetal #BurdenOfYmir #CanadianMetal #Drowstorm #FlowingDownward #FolkMetal #Jul25 #Review #Reviews #TheLongWinter #VikingMetal

Völur & Cares – Breathless Spirit Review

By Twelve

“Avant-garde doom metal from Canada. Do I really need to say more to pique your interest?” So said I a little under five years ago, closing out my Things You Might Have Missed feature for Völur’s Death Cult. The Toronto-based project launched itself to the top of my end-of-year list in 2020, owing to their expert fusion of an impressive blend of sounds and genres primarily rooted in doom metal. Wielding the violin like a sledgehammer, Death Cult featured intelligent, clever compositions that really impressed me in 2020. Now, at last, they’re back for their fourth full-length, Breathless Spirit, with one key change: a collaboration with Cares—UK/Canadian producer James Beardmore—whose influence aims to transcend an already-impressive trio to Valhallan heights. However do they fare?

But first, a correction: in reviewing Death Cult, I noted that “the guitars do not dominate, nor do they crush the listener; instead, they unsettle, distort, and act as anchor for the vocals and electric violins that make up the true meat of the music.” Völur has no guitarist—only Lucas Gadke (Blood Ceremony), who plays bass (in addition to vocals and piano). The electric violins are indeed the “true meat of the music;” Völur create their uniquely haunting sound through intense distortion on Laura Bates’s violin and viola,1 giving them a surprisingly heavy metal basis to work with—certainly I’d never have thought there’s no guitar in the blackened doom mania that is “Windbourne Sorcery II,” and I’m still not 100% sure I believe it. Previously, I compared the group to a gloomy “Apocapyse Orchestra meets King Goat” project, but, in hindsight, Apocalyptica might have been a better base point to use.

Realistically, though, none of that matters because Völur is unique in too many ways to build adequate comparisons, and Cares has only strengthened that position. Where Death Cult emphasized the heavier, doom metal basis of Völur’s material, Breathless Spirit leans more classical, a change that highlights the incredible range of the music, passing also through doom metal, black metal, folk, jazz, and drone along the way—and all of it done with “just” a violinist, bassist, and drummer (Justin Ruppel). What’s extra interesting (on an already very interesting record) is that Cares contributes piano, synthesizers, theremin, and textures. His production adds layer upon layer of grimy, modern darkness that contributes heavily to the metal feel of Breathless Spirit. It is, put simply, extremely experimental. It also works magnificently.

From the classically-inspired2 “Hearth,” Breathless Spirit’s instrumental intro whose motifs just keep reappearing, to the towering doom metal conclusion of “Death in Solitude,” Völur are as engaging as they are unpredictable. I mentioned that “Windbourne Sorcery II” has the album’s blackened highlight, with Bates’s utterly unhinged shrieks atop a steady alarm of urgency from her violin. That same song has an almost funeral buildup, a chilling passage I compare favorably with Bell Witch’s Mirror Reaper3. The title track is the highlight for me; Gadke’s roars are front and center, and all of his vocals have depth and command to them, recalling Barren Earth’s On Lonely Towers.4 Guest vocals from Amy Bowles (ex-Hollow Earth) are a fantastic counter to his baritone cleans, and the brief improvizations a third of the way in is chaotic and delightful. You can dance to the haunting middle section, but it ends on a sense of heavy, epic urgency. Whatever style they try, Völur & Cares can’t help but create something beautiful. Much credit also belongs to Ruppel, whose measured drumming keeps Breathless Spirit grounded in a steady, doom-laden theme that serves it well.

I’ve run out of words, but there’s so much more to say. Breathless Spirit is a hard album to describe with any level of brevity. It explores worlds I’ve only hinted at here, and is much stronger than the sum of its parts. It’s not perfect—”On Drangey” is perhaps a touch too long for my preferences—but it hardly has to be. Breathless Spirit should enshrine Völur and Cares as experts in the experimental. Equal parts beautiful, haunting, and dark, Breathless Spirit defies my vocabulary—you simply must listen for yourself.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Blackthrone Productions
Websites: volur.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/VolurDoom
Releases Worldwide: August 8th, 2025

#2025 #40 #ApocalypseOrchestra #Apocalyptica #Aug25 #BarrenEarth #BellWitch #BlackthroneProductions #BloodCeremony #BreathlessSpirit #CanadianMetal #Cares #DoomMetal #Drone #FolkMetal #HollowEarth #Jazz #KingGoat #Review #Reviews #Volur #VölurCares

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Kalaveraztekah – Nikan Axkan

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

The Rodeö is full of surprises. Today’s potential riff trap hails from the arid lands of Aguascalientes, Mexico, known most famously for its array of hot springs and National Museum of Death. Yes, in death Kalaveraztekah revels, and not just in a death metal groove indebted to the jagged scrawl of Morbid Angel or the destructive howl of early Behemoth. With a healthy inclusion of pre-Hispanic, indigenous instrumentation alongside their chunky and pinch-addled drive, Nikan Axkan churns and tumbles through chants and thunderous drum roll to shine a light on the Mexica culture and history of sacrifice and spirit world. To excavate the wonders that the adventurous Kalaveraztekah holds hidden in the underground, we’ve assembled a crack Rodeö crew, including an appearance from The Man, The Myth, The AMG Himself. Surely that means that everyone followed the word count, right? – Dolphin Whisperer

Kalaveraztekah // Nikan Axkan [May 2nd, 2025]

AMG Himself: Kalaveraztekah’s Nikan Axkan represents hopes and dreams that I have harbored for years. When will we finally get the seminal piece of Aztec-influenced extreme metal that will whet my appetite for both death metal and Mesoamerican history?1 With aplomb, these astonishingly unsigned Aguascalientes-ites2 do the fine job of balancing two equally vital parts of a single sound. Kalaveraztekah hits like a ton of bricks, dealing in death metal that’s neither old nor school, it’s just brutal and grindy, tempered only by peyote-fueled excursions into the netherworld. The core of their sound is brutal Mexican death metal replete with blasts and machine gun kicks, neck-damaging riffing, pig-squealing guitars, brutal growls (and occasionally less-brutal screamies) synced with the snare, and an intensity that I associate with writing reviews of bands like Vomitory or Crypta. It’s got the riffs and intensity with just a touch of melody, and I bask in its brutality and shreddy, squealy solos. Kalaveraztekah’s particular innovation in this sphere is the successful inclusion of traditional folk elements from the indigenous people located throughout Mexico, but which is today used almost exclusively for the Mexica people of Tenochtitlan (which is modern-day Mexico City).3 Kalaveraztekah’s focus on “Aztec Cosmogony” lends itself perfectly to the second part of their unique sound: dreamy folk soundscapes that they adapt seamlessly—and convincingly—when they shift gear. Driven by reverb-soaked soundscapes, Spanish guitars,4 and what I assume is a tlapitzalli (flute), the band lends atmosphere and dynamics that are necessary to offset a style of death metal that at times can risk monotony. And when they meet, these two sounds crash into each other like storm fronts, creating something beautiful and terrible to behold, simultaneously brutal and thoughtful, grindy and melodic, atmospheric and immediate. I fuckin’ love this shit.

Next up on my befolkened death metal bucketlist: the Olmecs! 4.0/5.0

Dear Hollow: What’s great about Kalaveraztekah is their ability to channel their heritage into an homage to the Mexica that sounds ancient, cosmic, and brutal. Featuring a blend not unlike the formidable shaman-themed Hell:on, the lethal fusion of cutthroat death metal and folk instruments offers balance: wild guitar solos, haunting flutes, terrifying death whistles, and ritualistic drums shine amid the no-frills Sulphur Aeon-esque riffs. While similarities to other Mexico-based Aztec- or Mayan-themed groups are unavoidable, Pre-Hispanic folk instrumentation is not mere novelty like it is for Ocelotl or Eunoë, nor is it an atmospheric saturation of bloody sacrifice in the manner of Aztlan or Cemican – rather, Kalaveraztekah uses ritualistic and ceremonial elements to amplify the cyclical cosmic grandiosity of the Five Suns in an album of both creation and devastation. Nikan Axkan offers riffs galore (“Tlazolteotl,” “Xiuhtekuhtli Weweteotl”), haunting overtures with spoken word that recall sacrificial ecstasy and the vast rotting realms of the gods (“Yowaltecuhtli,” “Illwikatl Meztli”), and just enough techy flavors of soaring intensity and dissonant menace to warrant diversity and complexity (“Xolotl Axolotl,” “Xiuhmolpili”). While the album is a tad overlong at nearly fifty minutes, Kalaveraztekah’s approach straddles the line between violently visceral and gloriously colossal – truly “el amanecer del nuevo sol” indeed. 4.0/5.0

Iceberg: I love it when an album requires me to do some research to unwrap its mysteries. Before I came across Nikan Axlan I had precious little knowledge of Aztec mythology. But now, thanks to Aguascalientes natives Kalaveraztekah, I can confidently tell my Xolotls from my Axolotls. Kalaveraztekah’s sonic template skews more groove than death metal, but the inclusion of a host of traditional instruments keeps the music refreshing and thoroughly unnerving. The tribal drums and wind instruments maintain a constant otherworldly atmosphere, and the extraneous vocal additions are excellent (the frantic spoken word of “Yowaltekuhtli” and the Wilhelm screams of “Xolotl Axolotl”). Kalaveraztekah aren’t content to sit in any one corner with their instruments either. The trebly blues tone of “Yowaltekuhtli” feels ripped from a Los Lonely Boys album, and the sweeping neoclassical riff that forms the backbone of “Xiuhmolpilli” screams symphodeath BOMBAST.5 The biggest drawback for me here is that in leaning so far into the groove metal style, the BPM goes stale in its mid-paced swagger. Given everything else that Kalaveraztekah unleashes on Nikan Axkan, I’m left wondering what this band would sound like if they really stepped on the gas and hit that NOS button (although the opening riff of “Wewekyotl” gets pretty damn close). That quibble aside, Nikan Axkan is a compelling and replayable record, and a great trip into the dark, bizarre world of Aztec mythology. I highly recommend this album for those looking for some tasty groove metal with a bit of strange on the side. 3.5/5.0

Alekhines Gun: Move over Tzompantli, there’s a new band in town. Channeling the instrumental flourishes of Nechochwen filtered through something adjacent to The Zenith Passage in production,6 Kalaveraztekah have presented a slab of agave scented folky melodic death so meticulously constructed and well produced that I’m actually stunned it’s an independent release. From the triumphant flourishes dotting the leads in “Yowaltekuhtli” to the thunderous tribal percussion-laced breakdowns in “Xiuhtekuhtli Weweteotl”, Nikan Axkan never wants for a variety of gripping moments. A sense of propulsion flows through the album, rendering the occasional interludes atmospheric rather than momentum-killing. Songs like “Xolotl Axolotl” feature heaps of skronk and tawngy tech only to instantly be offset by indigenous instruments and melodic atmospherics in equal measure. True, each individual track feels a bit long in the tooth and seem as though they could benefit from some editing, and I wish the bottom end didn’t sound so artificial. Nevertheless, every time I found myself thinking such thoughts I was suddenly blown away by some excellent new riff or lovely melody from wood instruments or percussion, slotting neatly into the album’s reasonable runtime. Nikan Axhan is an album with a remarkably matured and well-executed vision, and has been a gripping, engaging listen with each spin. Support this album. 3.5/5.0

Thyme: Most bands continually seek ways to bring originality into their work. For Aguascalientes, Mexico, five-piece death metal outfit Kalaveraztekah, that originality comes in the form of heaving helpings of Mesoamerican folk instrumentation, expertly woven into the deathly fabric of their sophomore album Nikan Azkan. Right off the bat, I felt transported to the middle of a Mexican rainforest as tribal drums and folkish guitar lines cede their delicate grip to Behemoth-like death riffs and a hellish vocal attack that rivals Nergal’s (“Nikan Axkan (El Aquí y El Ahora)”). When Nikan Azkan isn’t channeling Demigod levels of viciousness, its hybrid form of folk death conjures Roots-era Sepultura with sludgily dirty riffs, primitive death chants, and a plethora of indigenous instruments ranging from ocarinas to Aztec death whistles (“Xiuhtekuhtli Weweteotl (El Fuego Ancestral),” “Wewekoyotl (El Coyote Viejo)”). Kalaveraztekah brings loads of atmosphere to Nikan Axkan, especially on “Yowaltekuhtli (Un Sueño En La Oscuridad),” with its haunting instrumentation—the guitar work is top notch here—and the desperate, breathless pleas of the narrator conjuring tons of dramatic tension. On repeated spins, the magic within Nikan Axkan continues to unravel. While the meshing of Kalaveraztekah‘s death metal—standard as it may be—with its folk-forward instrumentation tends to blur tracks together, enjoyment didn’t dissipate the more I listened. Fans of what Tzompantli are doing would be hard-pressed to miss this, and I suggest they don’t. 3.0/5.0

Show 6 footnotes

1. Tzompantli doesn’t count ’cause they’re from California and they’re only “good.” ↩
2. I believe we call them Aguascalentenses. – Dolph ↩
3. Interesting to note that the band is from Aguascalientes, because the region was, in fact, the home of the Chichimeca groups, which, according to my deep research (yup, doin’ my own research just like RFK Jr. told me to!) became a kind of archetype of “noble savages” for both the Spaniards and the Mexica (Aztecs) in the 1500s. Rather than being a single group with a shared language, the Chichimeca groups were spread throughout central Mexico, and following the discovery of silver, they were war-crimed into a decades-long conflict and eventual decline, and by the beginning of the 1600s, they “disappeared as distinguishable cultural entities” (Schmal, 2019). Seven tribes would be the basis of a mighty seven-album conceptual cycle, my dudes. I’m just sayin’. ↩
4. Is that ironic? ↩
5. It really makes you wonder how far is heaven. – Dolph ↩
6. Surely, scooped tone production existed before The Zenith Passage. – Dolph ↩

#AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #Aztec #Behemoth #Crypta #DeathMetal #FolkMetal #GrooveMetal #HellOn #IndependentRelease #Kalaveraztekah #LosLonelyBoys #May25 #MexicanMetal #MorbidAngel #Nechochwen #NikanAxkan #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sepultura #SulphurAeon #Tzompantli #Vomitory