#folkmetal — Public Fediverse posts

Today's music:

Grimner - Träldomens Far

https://youtu.be/xpsNFGeDB2o

#metal #FolkMetal #VikingMetal #sweden #music #np #NowPlaying #MastoMusic

Today's music:

Grimner - Träldomens Far

https://youtu.be/xpsNFGeDB2o

#metal #FolkMetal #VikingMetal #sweden #music #np #NowPlaying #MastoMusic

Today's music:

Kallomäki - Suruton Saattaja

https://youtu.be/kN2NGhvnDTE

#metal #FolkMetal #DarkFolk #finland #music #np #NowPlaying #MastoMusic

Today's music:

Kallomäki - Suruton Saattaja

https://youtu.be/kN2NGhvnDTE

#metal #FolkMetal #DarkFolk #finland #music #np #NowPlaying #MastoMusic

Today's music:

Kallomäki - Suruton Saattaja

https://youtu.be/kN2NGhvnDTE

#metal #FolkMetal #DarkFolk #finland #music #np #NowPlaying #MastoMusic

Today's music:

Kallomäki - Suruton Saattaja

https://youtu.be/kN2NGhvnDTE

#metal #FolkMetal #DarkFolk #finland #music #np #NowPlaying #MastoMusic

Today's music:

Kallomäki - Suruton Saattaja

https://youtu.be/kN2NGhvnDTE

#metal #FolkMetal #DarkFolk #finland #music #np #NowPlaying #MastoMusic

There’s a tendency amongst folk and folk-adjacent metal bands to become goofier over time. Bands like Alestorm and Wind Rose began their careers with a semblance of seriousness before walking the plank into potty humor and/or covering YouTube Minecraft songs. The Netherlands’ “epic party folk metal” band Mourning Wood are the first I’ve encountered to have started here on purpose. Having shared stages with the aforementioned bands, and given their name that’s got the whole sixth grade laughing, Mourning Wood have the sophomoric mentality to fit within this particular niche of the sub-genre. Sporting their debut record Rise & Shine, Mourning Wood promise “the perfect foundation for a great night with unexpected turns, alcohol, and bad decisions.” But does Mourning Wood rise to meet the party’s energy, or does Rise & Shine fall limp at the first sign of action?

Mourning Wood’s up for some fun, but Rise & Shine’s party angle feels half-cocked. Energy’s no issue, though; Mourning Wood peddle a brand of high-octane extreme-power-folk metal. “Heathen Hooray” and “The Vikening”‘s sword-swinging heroics recall the frantic melodicism of Ensiferum and Æther Realm, and the lighthearted jauntiness of Korpiklaani turns up on “Behind Enemy Lines” and “Seaman Shanty.” Rise & Shine also goes down easy enough for a party atmosphere, because while many of its songs run long, they are well-paced and shockingly well-produced and mixed. What crashes Rise & Shine’s party is comedy. It’s not funny. Now, comedy is as subjective as it comes, but besides some low-hanging jizz puns (“Seaman Shanty”) there aren’t really any jokes. “American rednecks are ridiculous” (“Redneck Redemption”). “Nordaboos are silly” (“Modern Day Viking”). That’s about it. Musically, Mourning Wood takes some turns that could inspire a chuckle, but most are too obvious—banjo in “Redneck Redemption,” EDM in “Dwarven Dance”—to do much for me.1 I love the energy, but the goofy side of Rise & Shine fails to excite.

But don’t sleep on Mourning Wood, ’cause Rise & Shine still has bangers. Epic in scope and immediate in appeal, Rise & Shine is a head-bobbing joy ride more often than not. Mourning Wood know their way around a chorus, whether it be mead-quaffing ragers like “Heathen Hooray” or simply epic peaks like “Rise & Fall.” More surprisingly, Rise & Shine’s bridges are consistently its high points. Surefire crowd-pleasing group vocals in “The Vikening,” a theremin solo in “Modern Day Vikining,” an unsurprising-yet-effective break into reggae in “Blastafari;” Mourning Wood can’t be accused of phoning it in. Rise & Shine’s musical eccentricity recalls Diablo Swing Orchestra on occasion, not because Mourning Wood necessarily sound like DSO (though “Redneck Redemption” swings quite hard) but because it feels like nothing is ever off the table. Album highlight “Blastafari” alone shifts between meloblack blasting, Finntrollesque folk, power riffing, and the aforementioned reggae bridge. Not every swing is a hit, but nobody can say Mourning Wood ain’t swinging it.

I’ve found a good rule of thumb for Mourning Wood: the longer, the better. The epics of Rise & Shine are routinely engaging, managing their girthy runtimes with rock-solid songwriting. Viking bravado fuels the dynamic opener “Behind Enemy Lines,” and “Rise & Fall” marches with the slow-burn glory of Caladan Brood into a gangbusters climax. At its grandest, Rise & Shine puts out whiffs of Equilibrium’s Sagas, and that’s no small feat. Even songs that aren’t at typical epic lengths fill the niche. I keep forgetting “Heathen Hooray” and “Blastafari” are only five and five-and-a-half minutes respectively, not because they’re slogs to get through but because Mourning Wood pack so much into them it feels like they should be twice as long. Funnily enough, Mourning Wood are significantly more fun when they’re treating Rise & Shine with a modicum of seriousness than when they’re acting a fool.

My time with Mourning Wood was but distinctly frustrating, but unquestionably enjoyable. The highlights of Rise & Shine are some of the best folk metal I’ve heard in years, while its lowlights are some of the most tedious. I don’t want to suggest to Mourning Wood to cut the comedy out of their music entirely, because that’s clearly something important to them. Instead, if they treated their gags with the care, precision, and fervor they put into their metal work, their next album could be hilarious. I know in my heart they can nail being funny and epic. Regardless, let it be known that the next time I chance an encounter with Mourning Wood, I will seize upon it posthaste.

Rating: Good
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Self-Release2
Websites: mourningwood.nl | facebook.com/mourningwoodparty | mourningwoodband.bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

There’s a tendency amongst folk and folk-adjacent metal bands to become goofier over time. Bands like Alestorm and Wind Rose began their careers with a semblance of seriousness before walking the plank into potty humor and/or covering YouTube Minecraft songs. The Netherlands’ “epic party folk metal” band Mourning Wood are the first I’ve encountered to have started here on purpose. Having shared stages with the aforementioned bands, and given their name that’s got the whole sixth grade laughing, Mourning Wood have the sophomoric mentality to fit within this particular niche of the sub-genre. Sporting their debut record Rise & Shine, Mourning Wood promise “the perfect foundation for a great night with unexpected turns, alcohol, and bad decisions.” But does Mourning Wood rise to meet the party’s energy, or does Rise & Shine fall limp at the first sign of action?

Mourning Wood’s up for some fun, but Rise & Shine’s party angle feels half-cocked. Energy’s no issue, though; Mourning Wood peddle a brand of high-octane extreme-power-folk metal. “Heathen Hooray” and “The Vikening”‘s sword-swinging heroics recall the frantic melodicism of Ensiferum and Æther Realm, and the lighthearted jauntiness of Korpiklaani turns up on “Behind Enemy Lines” and “Seaman Shanty.” Rise & Shine also goes down easy enough for a party atmosphere, because while many of its songs run long, they are well-paced and shockingly well-produced and mixed. What crashes Rise & Shine’s party is comedy. It’s not funny. Now, comedy is as subjective as it comes, but besides some low-hanging jizz puns (“Seaman Shanty”) there aren’t really any jokes. “American rednecks are ridiculous” (“Redneck Redemption”). “Nordaboos are silly” (“Modern Day Viking”). That’s about it. Musically, Mourning Wood takes some turns that could inspire a chuckle, but most are too obvious—banjo in “Redneck Redemption,” EDM in “Dwarven Dance”—to do much for me.1 I love the energy, but the goofy side of Rise & Shine fails to excite.

But don’t sleep on Mourning Wood, ’cause Rise & Shine still has bangers. Epic in scope and immediate in appeal, Rise & Shine is a head-bobbing joy ride more often than not. Mourning Wood know their way around a chorus, whether it be mead-quaffing ragers like “Heathen Hooray” or simply epic peaks like “Rise & Fall.” More surprisingly, Rise & Shine’s bridges are consistently its high points. Surefire crowd-pleasing group vocals in “The Vikening,” a theremin solo in “Modern Day Vikining,” an unsurprising-yet-effective break into reggae in “Blastafari;” Mourning Wood can’t be accused of phoning it in. Rise & Shine’s musical eccentricity recalls Diablo Swing Orchestra on occasion, not because Mourning Wood necessarily sound like DSO (though “Redneck Redemption” swings quite hard) but because it feels like nothing is ever off the table. Album highlight “Blastafari” alone shifts between meloblack blasting, Finntrollesque folk, power riffing, and the aforementioned reggae bridge. Not every swing is a hit, but nobody can say Mourning Wood ain’t swinging it.

I’ve found a good rule of thumb for Mourning Wood: the longer, the better. The epics of Rise & Shine are routinely engaging, managing their girthy runtimes with rock-solid songwriting. Viking bravado fuels the dynamic opener “Behind Enemy Lines,” and “Rise & Fall” marches with the slow-burn glory of Caladan Brood into a gangbusters climax. At its grandest, Rise & Shine puts out whiffs of Equilibrium’s Sagas, and that’s no small feat. Even songs that aren’t at typical epic lengths fill the niche. I keep forgetting “Heathen Hooray” and “Blastafari” are only five and five-and-a-half minutes respectively, not because they’re slogs to get through but because Mourning Wood pack so much into them it feels like they should be twice as long. Funnily enough, Mourning Wood are significantly more fun when they’re treating Rise & Shine with a modicum of seriousness than when they’re acting a fool.

My time with Mourning Wood was but distinctly frustrating, but unquestionably enjoyable. The highlights of Rise & Shine are some of the best folk metal I’ve heard in years, while its lowlights are some of the most tedious. I don’t want to suggest to Mourning Wood to cut the comedy out of their music entirely, because that’s clearly something important to them. Instead, if they treated their gags with the care, precision, and fervor they put into their metal work, their next album could be hilarious. I know in my heart they can nail being funny and epic. Regardless, let it be known that the next time I chance an encounter with Mourning Wood, I will seize upon it posthaste.

Rating: Good
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Self-Release2
Websites: mourningwood.nl | facebook.com/mourningwoodparty | mourningwoodband.bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

There’s a tendency amongst folk and folk-adjacent metal bands to become goofier over time. Bands like Alestorm and Wind Rose began their careers with a semblance of seriousness before walking the plank into potty humor and/or covering YouTube Minecraft songs. The Netherlands’ “epic party folk metal” band Mourning Wood are the first I’ve encountered to have started here on purpose. Having shared stages with the aforementioned bands, and given their name that’s got the whole sixth grade laughing, Mourning Wood have the sophomoric mentality to fit within this particular niche of the sub-genre. Sporting their debut record Rise & Shine, Mourning Wood promise “the perfect foundation for a great night with unexpected turns, alcohol, and bad decisions.” But does Mourning Wood rise to meet the party’s energy, or does Rise & Shine fall limp at the first sign of action?

Mourning Wood’s up for some fun, but Rise & Shine’s party angle feels half-cocked. Energy’s no issue, though; Mourning Wood peddle a brand of high-octane extreme-power-folk metal. “Heathen Hooray” and “The Vikening”‘s sword-swinging heroics recall the frantic melodicism of Ensiferum and Æther Realm, and the lighthearted jauntiness of Korpiklaani turns up on “Behind Enemy Lines” and “Seaman Shanty.” Rise & Shine also goes down easy enough for a party atmosphere, because while many of its songs run long, they are well-paced and shockingly well-produced and mixed. What crashes Rise & Shine’s party is comedy. It’s not funny. Now, comedy is as subjective as it comes, but besides some low-hanging jizz puns (“Seaman Shanty”) there aren’t really any jokes. “American rednecks are ridiculous” (“Redneck Redemption”). “Nordaboos are silly” (“Modern Day Viking”). That’s about it. Musically, Mourning Wood takes some turns that could inspire a chuckle, but most are too obvious—banjo in “Redneck Redemption,” EDM in “Dwarven Dance”—to do much for me.1 I love the energy, but the goofy side of Rise & Shine fails to excite.

But don’t sleep on Mourning Wood, ’cause Rise & Shine still has bangers. Epic in scope and immediate in appeal, Rise & Shine is a head-bobbing joy ride more often than not. Mourning Wood know their way around a chorus, whether it be mead-quaffing ragers like “Heathen Hooray” or simply epic peaks like “Rise & Fall.” More surprisingly, Rise & Shine’s bridges are consistently its high points. Surefire crowd-pleasing group vocals in “The Vikening,” a theremin solo in “Modern Day Vikining,” an unsurprising-yet-effective break into reggae in “Blastafari;” Mourning Wood can’t be accused of phoning it in. Rise & Shine’s musical eccentricity recalls Diablo Swing Orchestra on occasion, not because Mourning Wood necessarily sound like DSO (though “Redneck Redemption” swings quite hard) but because it feels like nothing is ever off the table. Album highlight “Blastafari” alone shifts between meloblack blasting, Finntrollesque folk, power riffing, and the aforementioned reggae bridge. Not every swing is a hit, but nobody can say Mourning Wood ain’t swinging it.

I’ve found a good rule of thumb for Mourning Wood: the longer, the better. The epics of Rise & Shine are routinely engaging, managing their girthy runtimes with rock-solid songwriting. Viking bravado fuels the dynamic opener “Behind Enemy Lines,” and “Rise & Fall” marches with the slow-burn glory of Caladan Brood into a gangbusters climax. At its grandest, Rise & Shine puts out whiffs of Equilibrium’s Sagas, and that’s no small feat. Even songs that aren’t at typical epic lengths fill the niche. I keep forgetting “Heathen Hooray” and “Blastafari” are only five and five-and-a-half minutes respectively, not because they’re slogs to get through but because Mourning Wood pack so much into them it feels like they should be twice as long. Funnily enough, Mourning Wood are significantly more fun when they’re treating Rise & Shine with a modicum of seriousness than when they’re acting a fool.

My time with Mourning Wood was but distinctly frustrating, but unquestionably enjoyable. The highlights of Rise & Shine are some of the best folk metal I’ve heard in years, while its lowlights are some of the most tedious. I don’t want to suggest to Mourning Wood to cut the comedy out of their music entirely, because that’s clearly something important to them. Instead, if they treated their gags with the care, precision, and fervor they put into their metal work, their next album could be hilarious. I know in my heart they can nail being funny and epic. Regardless, let it be known that the next time I chance an encounter with Mourning Wood, I will seize upon it posthaste.

Rating: Good
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Self-Release2
Websites: mourningwood.nl | facebook.com/mourningwoodparty | mourningwoodband.bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

There’s a tendency amongst folk and folk-adjacent metal bands to become goofier over time. Bands like Alestorm and Wind Rose began their careers with a semblance of seriousness before walking the plank into potty humor and/or covering YouTube Minecraft songs. The Netherlands’ “epic party folk metal” band Mourning Wood are the first I’ve encountered to have started here on purpose. Having shared stages with the aforementioned bands, and given their name that’s got the whole sixth grade laughing, Mourning Wood have the sophomoric mentality to fit within this particular niche of the sub-genre. Sporting their debut record Rise & Shine, Mourning Wood promise “the perfect foundation for a great night with unexpected turns, alcohol, and bad decisions.” But does Mourning Wood rise to meet the party’s energy, or does Rise & Shine fall limp at the first sign of action?

Mourning Wood’s up for some fun, but Rise & Shine’s party angle feels half-cocked. Energy’s no issue, though; Mourning Wood peddle a brand of high-octane extreme-power-folk metal. “Heathen Hooray” and “The Vikening”‘s sword-swinging heroics recall the frantic melodicism of Ensiferum and Æther Realm, and the lighthearted jauntiness of Korpiklaani turns up on “Behind Enemy Lines” and “Seaman Shanty.” Rise & Shine also goes down easy enough for a party atmosphere, because while many of its songs run long, they are well-paced and shockingly well-produced and mixed. What crashes Rise & Shine’s party is comedy. It’s not funny. Now, comedy is as subjective as it comes, but besides some low-hanging jizz puns (“Seaman Shanty”) there aren’t really any jokes. “American rednecks are ridiculous” (“Redneck Redemption”). “Nordaboos are silly” (“Modern Day Viking”). That’s about it. Musically, Mourning Wood takes some turns that could inspire a chuckle, but most are too obvious—banjo in “Redneck Redemption,” EDM in “Dwarven Dance”—to do much for me.1 I love the energy, but the goofy side of Rise & Shine fails to excite.

But don’t sleep on Mourning Wood, ’cause Rise & Shine still has bangers. Epic in scope and immediate in appeal, Rise & Shine is a head-bobbing joy ride more often than not. Mourning Wood know their way around a chorus, whether it be mead-quaffing ragers like “Heathen Hooray” or simply epic peaks like “Rise & Fall.” More surprisingly, Rise & Shine’s bridges are consistently its high points. Surefire crowd-pleasing group vocals in “The Vikening,” a theremin solo in “Modern Day Vikining,” an unsurprising-yet-effective break into reggae in “Blastafari;” Mourning Wood can’t be accused of phoning it in. Rise & Shine’s musical eccentricity recalls Diablo Swing Orchestra on occasion, not because Mourning Wood necessarily sound like DSO (though “Redneck Redemption” swings quite hard) but because it feels like nothing is ever off the table. Album highlight “Blastafari” alone shifts between meloblack blasting, Finntrollesque folk, power riffing, and the aforementioned reggae bridge. Not every swing is a hit, but nobody can say Mourning Wood ain’t swinging it.

I’ve found a good rule of thumb for Mourning Wood: the longer, the better. The epics of Rise & Shine are routinely engaging, managing their girthy runtimes with rock-solid songwriting. Viking bravado fuels the dynamic opener “Behind Enemy Lines,” and “Rise & Fall” marches with the slow-burn glory of Caladan Brood into a gangbusters climax. At its grandest, Rise & Shine puts out whiffs of Equilibrium’s Sagas, and that’s no small feat. Even songs that aren’t at typical epic lengths fill the niche. I keep forgetting “Heathen Hooray” and “Blastafari” are only five and five-and-a-half minutes respectively, not because they’re slogs to get through but because Mourning Wood pack so much into them it feels like they should be twice as long. Funnily enough, Mourning Wood are significantly more fun when they’re treating Rise & Shine with a modicum of seriousness than when they’re acting a fool.

My time with Mourning Wood was but distinctly frustrating, but unquestionably enjoyable. The highlights of Rise & Shine are some of the best folk metal I’ve heard in years, while its lowlights are some of the most tedious. I don’t want to suggest to Mourning Wood to cut the comedy out of their music entirely, because that’s clearly something important to them. Instead, if they treated their gags with the care, precision, and fervor they put into their metal work, their next album could be hilarious. I know in my heart they can nail being funny and epic. Regardless, let it be known that the next time I chance an encounter with Mourning Wood, I will seize upon it posthaste.

Rating: Good
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Self-Release2
Websites: mourningwood.nl | facebook.com/mourningwoodparty | mourningwoodband.bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

There’s a tendency amongst folk and folk-adjacent metal bands to become goofier over time. Bands like Alestorm and Wind Rose began their careers with a semblance of seriousness before walking the plank into potty humor and/or covering YouTube Minecraft songs. The Netherlands’ “epic party folk metal” band Mourning Wood are the first I’ve encountered to have started here on purpose. Having shared stages with the aforementioned bands, and given their name that’s got the whole sixth grade laughing, Mourning Wood have the sophomoric mentality to fit within this particular niche of the sub-genre. Sporting their debut record Rise & Shine, Mourning Wood promise “the perfect foundation for a great night with unexpected turns, alcohol, and bad decisions.” But does Mourning Wood rise to meet the party’s energy, or does Rise & Shine fall limp at the first sign of action?

Mourning Wood’s up for some fun, but Rise & Shine’s party angle feels half-cocked. Energy’s no issue, though; Mourning Wood peddle a brand of high-octane extreme-power-folk metal. “Heathen Hooray” and “The Vikening”‘s sword-swinging heroics recall the frantic melodicism of Ensiferum and Æther Realm, and the lighthearted jauntiness of Korpiklaani turns up on “Behind Enemy Lines” and “Seaman Shanty.” Rise & Shine also goes down easy enough for a party atmosphere, because while many of its songs run long, they are well-paced and shockingly well-produced and mixed. What crashes Rise & Shine’s party is comedy. It’s not funny. Now, comedy is as subjective as it comes, but besides some low-hanging jizz puns (“Seaman Shanty”) there aren’t really any jokes. “American rednecks are ridiculous” (“Redneck Redemption”). “Nordaboos are silly” (“Modern Day Viking”). That’s about it. Musically, Mourning Wood takes some turns that could inspire a chuckle, but most are too obvious—banjo in “Redneck Redemption,” EDM in “Dwarven Dance”—to do much for me.1 I love the energy, but the goofy side of Rise & Shine fails to excite.

But don’t sleep on Mourning Wood, ’cause Rise & Shine still has bangers. Epic in scope and immediate in appeal, Rise & Shine is a head-bobbing joy ride more often than not. Mourning Wood know their way around a chorus, whether it be mead-quaffing ragers like “Heathen Hooray” or simply epic peaks like “Rise & Fall.” More surprisingly, Rise & Shine’s bridges are consistently its high points. Surefire crowd-pleasing group vocals in “The Vikening,” a theremin solo in “Modern Day Vikining,” an unsurprising-yet-effective break into reggae in “Blastafari;” Mourning Wood can’t be accused of phoning it in. Rise & Shine’s musical eccentricity recalls Diablo Swing Orchestra on occasion, not because Mourning Wood necessarily sound like DSO (though “Redneck Redemption” swings quite hard) but because it feels like nothing is ever off the table. Album highlight “Blastafari” alone shifts between meloblack blasting, Finntrollesque folk, power riffing, and the aforementioned reggae bridge. Not every swing is a hit, but nobody can say Mourning Wood ain’t swinging it.

I’ve found a good rule of thumb for Mourning Wood: the longer, the better. The epics of Rise & Shine are routinely engaging, managing their girthy runtimes with rock-solid songwriting. Viking bravado fuels the dynamic opener “Behind Enemy Lines,” and “Rise & Fall” marches with the slow-burn glory of Caladan Brood into a gangbusters climax. At its grandest, Rise & Shine puts out whiffs of Equilibrium’s Sagas, and that’s no small feat. Even songs that aren’t at typical epic lengths fill the niche. I keep forgetting “Heathen Hooray” and “Blastafari” are only five and five-and-a-half minutes respectively, not because they’re slogs to get through but because Mourning Wood pack so much into them it feels like they should be twice as long. Funnily enough, Mourning Wood are significantly more fun when they’re treating Rise & Shine with a modicum of seriousness than when they’re acting a fool.

My time with Mourning Wood was but distinctly frustrating, but unquestionably enjoyable. The highlights of Rise & Shine are some of the best folk metal I’ve heard in years, while its lowlights are some of the most tedious. I don’t want to suggest to Mourning Wood to cut the comedy out of their music entirely, because that’s clearly something important to them. Instead, if they treated their gags with the care, precision, and fervor they put into their metal work, their next album could be hilarious. I know in my heart they can nail being funny and epic. Regardless, let it be known that the next time I chance an encounter with Mourning Wood, I will seize upon it posthaste.

Rating: Good
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Self-Release2
Websites: mourningwood.nl | facebook.com/mourningwoodparty | mourningwoodband.bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

The power of storytelling is well-known to Belarusian post-black outcasts Dymna Lotva. Their previous album, The Land Under the Black Wings: Blood, progressed that series through tragic true and folkloric tales, its overt tragedy in this sense bringing the real devastation wracking their native and settled home countries.1 Vyraj sees Dymna Lotva continue to communicate with stories. Taking its name from the Slavic mythological realm to which both migrating birds and the souls of the dead travel, there’s an explicit parallel with the members’ own emigration as well as themes of personal journey, life, and death. But there’s always been more to Dymna Lotva’s music than their symbolically powerful concepts, and Vyraj makes no exception.

Dymna Lotva already had somewhat of a winning formula in a uniquely executed blend of black, folk, and post-metal. They evolve anyway, bringing in and emphasising further an electronic side that ranges from shimmering, chimelike keys to soft symphonics. It’s never enough to overshadow the metallic and, at its best, amplifies the (melo)drama of the climaxes and adds more layers to the band’s nuanced and emotional sound. This new direction brings with it something of the anthemic, with songs reprising uplifting melodies, stepping into steady sways, and being narrated more often by a duet, if not a chorus of voices.2 Leading those voices is the force of nature Katsiaryna Mankevich, who once again absolutely kills it with her wrenching screams and solemn classical cleans. The music is more direct, due to all the above as well as a comparatively shorter runtime, with fewer tracks, each of which references the others through recurring motifs.

Vyraj condenses and concentrates Dymna Lotva’s characteristic potency and poignancy, which this time are tinged a touch more with the blush of hope than the blackness of rage. The urgent, cascading melodies ring with a thrilling solidarity (“Zory,” “Viedźmieragina,” “Ustań Za Mianie”) and the mournful soaring solos with bittersweet sadness (“Niama Darohi,” “Return my Coffin Home”). The highlight here, and also the crowning jewel of the album, is the centrepiece “Niama Darohi,” which practically hums with longing for freedom. It’s in these places that the new electronic elements work the most magic, spinning glittering counter-melodies or supporting the climax with subtle strings and fluttering keys. The atmosphere they bring is deepened by the way Dymna Lotva use the dynamics of rhythm and intensity to deepen their compositions and make them still more compelling. Variously whispered, spoken, rasped, screamed lines circulate spells amidst shifting tempos (“Veha,” “Viedźmieragina,” “Niama Darohi”); sung and screamed male and female voices call and respond and join together (“The Boat of Despair,” “Ustań Za Mianie,” “Return my Coffin Home”); and both the graceful lull of cleans and the vicious snarls of harsh vocals move in synchronisation with those of the lead guitars. This also serves to bring the fierceness into sharper focus, through emphasis and contrast alone, or the dramatic turn from this graceful tension into a building explosion of passion and electricity (“Zory,” “Veha,” “Viedźmieragina”).

All of Vyraj has a somewhat magical aura, thanks to the use of (children’s) group vocals and xylophone-esque chimes and ambience amidst the savage or sombre. At its most vibrant, it sings with so much feeling that I long desperately for a lyric sheet and the ability to speak the language(s) these songs are written in.3 The brightness of these highs also obscures the comparative dimness of the lows, where that fire seems to be missing, and mellowness and ambience win out (“The Boat of Despair,” “Bu Samoje”). This is some feat considering the fact that the overall production seems tailored to the increased electronic emphasis, which presses the beautiful layers together, and so the very aspects that lend Vyraj some new magic also weaken that magic’s power. Just a bit more space would do wonders.

But Dymna Lotva are not ones to fade into the background. They care about their stories and delivering them in a way that forces you to listen. Despite any unevenness, Vyraj has an intangible specialness to it that irresistibly pulls the listener back. This is a lovely, sad, empowering piece of art that deserves more than the length of its runtime to weave its world around you.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 7th, 2026

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

The storms persist, but now it’s getting hot! Steam roils inside the filter ducts as my minions scald themselves in the pursuit of moderately valuable nuggets. Will they succeed before they cook like so many broccoli florets? Only time will tell.

Dead or alive, I’ll make sure these lazy louts deliver their semi-precious lodes. So be thankful, and BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Mountainous Member

Volcandra // Beyond the Will of Mortals [April 24th, 2026 – Prosthetic Records]

Who knows why we don’t get promo sometimes? Countless times I’ve been faced with great anticipation for a new record by a band I was keeping tabs on, and countless times, for unknown reasons, promo never came. Louisville melodic black/death quartet Volcandra now enter those ranks with the unsent Beyond the Will of Mortals. Picking up where The Will of Ancients left off, Beyond the Will of Mortals expands in scope and scale, eliciting a grandeur in composition that recalls the epic yarns spun by Foretoken, Hath, and Astralborne, but with the thrashing sensibilities of Antiverse and Skeletonwitch. Leading the charge in stunning fashion, “Beyond the Will of Mortals” and “Marauders of the Cosmic Vortex” explode with a visceral burst of energy built around high-octane riffs, screaming solos, and majestic melodies. Dave Palenske in particular acquits himself admirably, expanding his vocal range far beyond the expected, foraying into scorching screams and subterranean gutturals with excellent technique and charisma (“Venom March Enchantress”). But the rest of the band easily keeps up, deftly trading blows between power metal-ready gallops, violent swings into thrash territory, and all manner of other pyrotechnics to make Beyond the Will of Mortals Volcandra’s most versatile and varied offering yet. To some, this may create a disjointed experience as rippers like “Mage of Fabled Sorcery” contrast in pacing and personality to its neighbors. However, with repeat listens that effects dissolves, making more room to appreciate how much fun this record really is. The back half capitalizes on that effect, unleashing lean and mean banger after banger to leave you salivating for another round (“Within the Webs,” “Infinite Decadence”). In sum, Beyond the Will of Mortals is a fine, invigorating inclusion into anyone’s rotation; so if you missed it, get on it now!

Creeping Ivy’s Punkyard Dogs

Dead Bob // Nothing Changes Everything [April 21st, 2026 – Wrong Records]

In The Collector’s Guide to Heavy Metal, Martin Popoff describes Wrong (1989) by Nomeansno as ‘the mightiest merger between the hateful aggression of punk and the discipline of heavy metal’ (316). Essentially, Popoff affixed to Wrong AMG’s Iconic label: 10/10.1 For readers perhaps unfamiliar with Nomeansno, my best follow-up on Popoff’s portrayal is that the band—formed in 1979 by the Wright brothers (Rob on bass/vocals, John on drums/vocals)—sounds like The Minutemen hijacked a Voivod. After an incredible eleven-album run, Nomeansno officially retired in 2016. Why am I wasting my word count with this history lesson on the greatest Canadian punk band of all time? Because Dead Bob, John Wright’s solo project, released its sophomore album this April. Whereas Life Like fulfills the vision of one man, John enlisted a band for Nothing Changes Everything. Bookending the album are the last two songs John co-wrote with Rob. The techy guitar/bass interplay of lead-off “Centre of the Universe,” as well as the pounding rhythms of closer “No Fun (Alt Mix),” come closest to the punk/metal hybridity of vintage Nomeansno. Between these tracks, the album gets increasingly weird (which is to say, it gets increasingly ‘punk,’ in the word’s original connotation). “Nothing Changes Everything” deploys horns, “Hard is Hard” mixes art/surf rock, and “The Present” sprinkles psychedelic guitar leads over pulsing synths and tribal percussion. If you’re a fan of avant-garde music in a compact package, you can’t go wrong with Nothing Changes Everything.

Poison Ruïn // Hymns from the Hills [April 3rd, 2026 – Relapse Records]

Whilst reading Tyme‘s (excellent) review of Twin Serpent’s (super fun) True Norwegian Blackgrass, a member of the commentariat reminded me of how much I enjoyed Poison Ruïn’s latest offering upon a first listen. That comment got me to revisit Hymn from the Hills, and I’m glad I did. To sell these Philly post-punks to the AMG Faithful, I’ll point out a few things: they’re signed to Relapse Records, they curate a medieval aesthetic (which includes deploying dungeon synths), and the new record was mastered by Arthur Rizk. In addition to liberal metal elements, Poison Ruïn occasionally stride with rock n’ roll swagger (“Hymn from the Hills”), with primary visionary Mac Kennedy channeling Blue Öyster Cult in his role as singer, guitarist, and primary songwriter (“Lily of the Valley”). “Eidolon” perfectly exemplifies the band’s hybridity, mashing up the melody of “Layla,” the propulsive drive of Hüsker Dü, and the rhythmic punctuations of “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” This may sound like a critique, but it’s not; Poison Ruïn excels at mixing punk, rock, and metal into their own arthouse concoction. Metal purists might have to wait until the end of the album, though, to have their fancy truly tickled. But wait, they should, as “Sleeping Giant (Interlude)” offers funeral doom content in a punk-sized package, while closer “The Standoff” gets moving with a wicked blast beat. I’ll definitely be heading for these post-punk hills more and more throughout the year.

Scimitar // Scimitarium II [April 24th, 2026 – Crypt of the Wizard]

Scimitar’s first song receptacle was one of my favorite debuts of 2025. On Scimitarium I, this Danish five-piece served up a scintillating selection of ‘black occult rock,’ combining the caustic fervor of Malokarpatan with the psychedelic haze of Blue Cheer, topped off with a post-punk flavoring of Joy Division. A year later, this Copenhagen cutter returns with Scimitarium II, a follow-up that satisfyingly mirrors the album-art format of its predecessor. Whereas Scimitarium I demonstrated range marred a bit by roughshod production, volume II sounds much sharper, slashing and dashing for a lean 40 minutes. The opening title track introduces our combatants: the dexterous drumming of CCsquele; the counter-melodic bass of Olle Bergholz; the sinister guitar fury of Johan L. Ekstrand and Anders M. Jørgensen; and finally, the commanding vocals of Shaam A.2 From there, the album rips through a trio of unrelenting ragers that feel like they can fall apart at any minute but miraculously hold together. “Through Lava Lit Roads to Lavilenda, Pt. II” offers the only reprieve, spotlighting Shaam’s dynamic range and impressive timbre. Closing out the collection is “Mobula Mobular,” a 13-minute monster built around a doomy riff whose chromaticism lurches upward and downward, to hypnotizing effect. If Scimitar can marry the ambition of I with the ferocity of II next time around, they’ll have a blackened-trad killer on their hands.

Andy-War-Hall’s Dandy Score Haul

Elegant Weapons // Evolution [April 24th, 2026 – Exciter Records]

Everything about Elegant Weapons and the super group’s sophomore record Evolution is a misnomer. Evolution is a high-octane slugfest of tried-and-true heavy metal-leaning hard rock, and Elegant Weapons swing, punch, and bite through it with everything but grace. Is this a problem? When Richie Faulkener’s (Judas Priest) riffs are as groovy and burly as ever and his solos as grin-inducing, Ronnie Romero’s (ex-Rainbow, ex-Michael Schenker Group) voice is booming as it is, and when Dave Rimmer (Uriah Heep) and Christopher Williams’ (Accept) bass and drums respectively, carry as tight a pulse as they do on Evolution, not at all. When it all coalesces into uber catchy fist-pumping anthems like “Bridges Burn,” “The Devil Calls,” and “Shooting Shadows,” especially so. Evolution is easy-peasy listening, and Elegant Weapons’ chemistry and knack for hookcraft make its near hour-long runtime fly by, as well as ease the cringe of the hyper-Boomeristic lyricism on “Generation Me.” They also manage to make fairly stock power ballads in “Come Back to Me” and “Keeper of the Keys” feel affecting, driven by a viral vocal presence and emotive, timeless guitar soloing. Evolution is fun, and Elegant Weapons are sharp. ‘Nuff said.

Demon Spell // Blessed Be the Dark [April 24th, 2026 – Dying Victims Productions]

Creeping from an obscure, ancient, and sinister darkness, Sicily’s Demon Spell have conjured a shadow-cast era of heavy metal’s history back to the light of day with their debut Blessed Be the Dark. Wielding the evil auras of Mercyful Fate and Witchfinder General, Demon Spell play an early-80s melange of early thrash, occult rock, and NWoBHM riffcraft and swagger. Blessed Be the Dark is driven by excellent performances. Vocalist Federico Fano’s falsetto wails evoke King Diamond at his best on “As Lucifer Smiles” while drummer Dario Casabona drops slick, pummeling fills over “Curse of the Undead.” Sinister melodies and atmospheres abound on Blessed Be the Dark, with “The Tolling” and “Hexes and Horrors” driving home a vintage horror aesthetic while tearing it up with blistering heavy metal. Blessed Be the Dark also just sounds pleasantly old. Demon Spell’s guitars and bass sound pulled straight from 1981, complementing their retro songcraft perfectly. Blessed Be the Dark sounds like the night come alive, a fast, fun, and delightfully dark exploration of the kinds of heavy metal that gave your grandma panic attacks back in the day. Fall under the Demon Spell today!

Grin Reaper’s Grim Goodies

Nervosa // Slave Machine [April 3rd, 2026 – Napalm Records]

For a band releasing their sixth album in twelve years, Nervosa sounds remarkably vital. Staying the course with a dozen tracks of their signature death/thrash, Slave Machine burns through forty-three minutes of whammy dives, soaring leads, and all-around thrashy goodness. Writing tunes that pay homage to Sepultura (“You Are Not a Hero”), Kreator (“Ghost Notes”), and Sodom (“The Call”), Nervosa bludgeons with blunt-force drama while touting slick riffs and venomous melodies. Slave Machine opens with “Impending Doom,” a stirring salvo that Arch Enemy wishes they’d written, and from there Nervosa hints at the familiar without ever straying from their own lane. “Hate” starts with a riff that simultaneously reminds of Maiden’s “Flash of the Blade” and System of a Down’s “B.Y.O.B.” before spiraling into vaguely In Flames-tinged melodeath. Meanwhile, “Crawling for Your Pride” and “Beast of Burden” draw from the viciousness of mid-aughts Soulfly. Over and over, Nervosa pulls from known sources, yet bakes enough novelty into their songwriting to sound fresh and pummeling. Those intimate with Nervosa won’t find many surprises here, but are in for a treat. If this is your first encounter with these Brazilian badasses, gird your ears and strap in—welcome to the Slave Machine.

Kõdu // Kirjad Sõgedate Külast [April 20th, 2026 – Antiq Records]

Five years after delivering debut Unusta Kõik, Estonian outfit Kõdu graces us with their sophomore album. Translated as ‘Letters from the Village of the Blind,’3 Kirjad Sõgedate Külast details the sordid ruination of a backwoods village, relating its narrative aspects through a series of letters where each song chronicles a different villager’s perspective.4 Kõdu grounds the lyrics in their native language, drawing from nineteenth and twentieth-century Estonian poets for inspiration. Despite the depth of the macabre backdrop, I never would have taken the time to learn more if Kõdu’s music hadn’t entranced me from the outset. Slow-burn black metal abounds on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast, recalling Dødheimsgard’s shifting moods (“II”) and eclectic instrumentation (“III”) muddled with Wayfarer’s rustic arrangements (“VI”) and Emperor’s dramatic flair (“V”). Musically, Kirjad Sõgedate Külast conjures lush soundscapes (“VII”) through considered songwriting, expertly balancing black metal discharges with melancholic passages that give moments just the right amount of time to bludgeon or breathe before pivoting. I regret not getting the chance to review Kõdu’s latest in full, because the folk magic they weave on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast deserves fanfare and kudõs aplenty.

ClarkKent’s Epic Elegy

Bloody Valkyria // Requiem – Reveries Of The Dying [April 3rd, 2026 – Northern Silence Productions]

Bloody Valkyria, the product of Finland’s Jere Kervinen, peddles in the same sort of epic symphonic/folk black metal that the likes of Ancient Mastery, Stormkeep, and Moonlight Sorcery dish out. Kervinen’s emotionally charged project appears inspired by a personal loss, and you can feel his passion in the emotional outpouring of his music and lyrics. On the epic opener, “Symphony of Silence,” Bloody Valkyria reveal their capability with the patient slow burn. There’s the natural, serene ambience of animal sounds, strings, folky flutes, and then a sudden explosion of riffs and blast beats. And boy does Kervinen write some extraordinary leads, which makes his slow-burn approach all the more rewarding. Each song contains a well-earned hooky riff/trem that holds its sway over you even as the song grows into more thoughtful serenity. Reading along with Kervinen’s poetic, touching lyrics makes the experience all the more poignant as he ruminates on death and the meaning of life. The grief by the end, as he sings about his “beloved north” and a desire for its/her embrace, is palpable. This is a beautiful record that may be too good for these dirty filters, but I just couldn’t risk it getting lost in the shuffle of the chaos that is the end of year.

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

we are the hu

dreaming… a random bit

** in the ending of The Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenges from WordPress, here’s your Sunday Weekly Photo Prompt: travel **

medicine buddha mantra: Tayata Om Bekandze Bekandze Maha Bekandze Radza Samudgate Soha

health, wealth, and prosperity: Om Vasudhare Svaha

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ULVER (Noruega) presenta nou single: "Hollywood Babylon (Gazelle Twin Remix)" #Ulver #BlackMetal #FolkMetal #Ambient #AvantGarde #Electronica #NewWave #Synthpop #Març2026 #Noruega #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Today's music:

VALHALORE - Within the Fire

https://youtu.be/6xnEAXKZUXM

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

Brutal cold envelops the building as my minions scrape through ice and filthy slush to find even the smallest shard of metallic glimmer. With extensive budget cuts demanded by my exorbitant bonus schedule—as is my right as CEO of this filtration service—there was no room to purchase adequate gear and equipment for these harsher weathers. However, I did take up crocheting recently so each of my “employees” received a nice soft hat.

Hopefully, that will be enough to tide them over until the inclement weather passes and we return to normal temps. Until then, they have these rare finds to keep them warm, and so do you! REJOICE!

Kenstrosity’s Knightly Nightmare

AngelMaker // This Used to Be Heaven [November 20th, 2025 – Self Released]

I’ve been a fan of AngelMaker’s since their 2015 debut Dissentient. The grossly underrated and underappreciated Vancouver septet are a highly specialized deathcore infantry, with their lineup expanding steadily over their career in concert with their ever-increasing songwriting sophistication. Unlike the brutish and belligerent debut and follow-up AngelMaker, 2022’s Sanctum and new outing This Used to Be Heaven indulge in rich layering, near-neoclassical melodies, and dramatic atmosphere to complement AngelMaker’s trademark sense of swaggering groove. With early entries “Rich in Anguish” and “Haunter” establishing the strength of both sides of their sound, it always surprises me how AngelMaker successfully twist and gnarl their sound into shapes—whether it be hardcore, blackened, or melodic—I wasn’t anticipating (“Silken Hands,” “Relinquished,” “Nothing Left”). A rock-solid back half launched by the epic “The Omen” two-part suite brings these deviations from the expected into unity with the deathcore foundation I know AngelMaker so well for (“Malevolence Reigns,” “Altare Mortis”), and in doing so secure their status as one of the most reliably creative deathcore acts in the scene. Nothing here is going to change the minds of the fiercer deathcore detractors, but if your heart is open even just a crack, there’s a good chance This Used to Be Heaven will force themselves into it, if not entirely rip the whole thing asunder. My advice is simply to let it.

This Used To Be Heaven by AngelMaker

ClarkKent’s Sonic Symphonics

Brainblast // Colossus Suprema [November 11th, 2025 – Vmbrella]

A debut album five years in the making from a band formed in 2015, Colossus Suprema is the brainchild of Bogotá, Colombia’s Edd Jiménez. Jiménez turned his passion for and training in classical composition towards his symphonic progressive act, Brainblast. With Bach as an inspiration, Brainblast’s brand of technical death metal has the grandeur of Fleshgod Apocalypse, the speed of Archspire, and the virtuosity of concert musicians. Jiménez’s classical training shows — the compositions have an orchestral feel, only played at insane energy levels. The speed, the depth, and the breadth of the instrumentation are sure to leave you breathless. Nicholas Le Fou Wells (First Fragment) lays down relentless kitwork with jaw-dropping velocity, while Eetu Hernesmaa provides technical fretwork that’ll similarly leave you awestruck. He delivers sublime riffs on “Relentless Rise” and a surprising melodic lead that steals the show on “Unchain Your Soul.” Perhaps most prominent is the virtuoso play of the bass from Rich Gray (Annihilator) and Dominic Forest Lapointe (First Fragment) that is omnipresent and funky on each and every song. To top it all off is the piano (perhaps from Jiménez), giving the music some gravitas with the technical, concert-style playing. This record is just plain bonkers and tons of fun. Given this is the debut from a young musician, the idea that Brainblast has room to grow is plenty exciting.

COLOSSUS SUPREMA by BRAINBLAST

Gods of Gaia // Escape the Wonderland [November 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

If you’ve been eagerly awaiting the next SepticFlesh release, Germany’s Gods of Gaia have got you covered. Founded in 2023 by Kevin Sierra Eifert, Gods of Gaia is made up of an anonymous collective from around the world, contributing to a dark, heavy, and aggressive form of symphonic metal. Their sophomore album, Escape the Wonderland, features a collection of death metal songs with plenty of orchestral arrangements that add a dramatic flair. Along with crushing riffs and thunderous blast beats, you’ll hear choral chants (“Escape the Wonderland,” “Burn for Me”), bits of piano (“What It Takes”), and plenty of cinematic symphonics. SepticFlesh is the obvious influence, but the grandiosity of Fleshgod Apocalypse flares up on cuts like the dramatic “Rise Up.” The front half is largely aggressive, with “What It Takes” taking the energy to thrash levels. The back half dials down the energy, even creeping to near doom on “Krieg in Mir,” but never pulls back on the heaviness. Cool as the symphonic elements are, the riffs, blast beats, and brutal vocal delivery are just as impressive. Make no mistake, this is melodic death metal above all else, with symphonic seasonings that elevate it a notch. Just the opposite of what the record title suggests, this is one wonderland you won’t want to escape.

Escape the Wonderland by Gods of Gaia

Grin Reaper’s Frozen Feast

Hounds of Bayanay // КЭМ [November 15, 2025 – Self Released]

Two-and-a-half years after dropping debut Legends of the North, Hounds of Bayanay returns with КЭМ to sate your eternal lust for folk metal.1 Blending heavy metal with folk instrumentation, specifically kyrympa2 and khomus,3 as well as throat singing, Hounds of Bayanay might sound like a Tengger Cavalry or The Hu knockoff, but you’ll do yourself a disservice by writing them off. Boldly enunciated, clarion cleans belt out in confident proclamations while grittier refrains and overtones resonate beneath, proffering assorted and engaging vocal stylings. Rather than dwelling overlong in strings and tribal chanting, the deft fusion of folk instruments with traditional metal defines Hounds’ sound and feels cohesively integrated on КЭМ, providing an intimate yet heavy backdrop to a hook-laden and alluringly replayable thirty-nine minutes. In addition to the eclectic folk influence, there’s a satisfying variety of songwriting from track to track, with “Ardaq,” “Cɯsqa:n,” and “Dɔʃɔrum” exemplifying the enticing synthesis of styles. More than anything else, Hounds of Bayanay embodies heart and fun, warming my chilly days with a well-executed platter of Eastern-influenced folk metal. Don’t skip this one, or the decision could hound you.

KEM by Hounds Of Bayanay

Blood Red Throne // Siltskin [December 05, 2025 – Soulseller Records]

I’m shoving up against the deadline to wedge this one in, but Blood Red Throne’s latest deserves a mention, and bulldozing is just the sort of thing you should do while listening to BRT’s brand of bludgeoning, pit-stomping romp. Back in December, the venerable Norwegian death metal act dropped twelfth album Siltskin, maintaining their prolific and consistent release schedule. In addition to their dependable output, BRT stays the course with pummeling, brutish pomp. In his coverage of Nonagon and Imperial Congregation, Doc Grier drums up comparisons to Old Man’s Child, Panzerchrist, and Hypocrisy, and while I’m not inclined to disagree on those points, I’ll add that Siltskin also harkens to Kill-era Cannibal Corpse in its slick coalition of mid-paced slammers, warp-speed blitzes, and fat ‘n’ frolicking bass. Add to that the sly, sticky melody from the likes of Sentenced’s North from Here (“Vestigial Remnants”), and you’ve got a recipe for a righteous forty-five-minute smash-a-thon. Blood Red Throne’s last few records have been among their best, which is an incredible feat for a band this far into their career. While Siltskin doesn’t surpass BRT’s high-water mark, it keeps up, and if you’re hungry for an aural beatdown, then Blood Red Throne would like to throw their crown into the ring for consideration.

Siltskin by Blood Red Throne

Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu // Immortality [December 17, 2025 – Bang the Head Records]

I am woefully late to the charms of Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu, a Japanese death metal outfit prominently featuring slap ‘n’ pop bass. Had it not been for our trusty Flippered Friend, I might have continued this grievous injustice of ignorance, but thankfully, this is not the timeline to which I’m doomed. Immortality is Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu’s seventh album, and those who enjoy the band’s previous work should remain satisfied. For new acolytes, Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu grasps the rabid intensity of Vader and Krisiun and imbues it with a funky edge. Meaty bass rumbles and sprightly slapped accents, provided by bassist/vocalist Haruhisa Takahata, merge with Kouki Akita’s kit obliteration to establish a thunderous, unrelenting rhythm section. Atop the lower end’s heft, Keiichi Enjouji shreds and squeals with thrashy vigor and a keen understanding of melody. First proper track “Anima Immortalis” even includes gang intonations that work so well, I wish they were more prevalent across the album. The sum total of Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu’s atmosphere is one of plucky exuberance that strikes with the force of a roundhouse kick to the dome. Had I discovered it sooner, Immortality would have qualified for a 2025 year-end honorable mention, as I haven’t been able to stop spinning it or the band’s prior releases.4 Though I’m still in the honeymoon phase, I expect this platter to live on in my listening, and recommend you not miss this GTK killer like I almost did.

Thus Spoke’s Random Revelations

The Algorithm // Recursive Infinity [November 21st, 2025 – Self Released]

I’ve been a fan of The Algorithm since the early days, back when their electronica-djent was almost twee in its experimental joy, spliced with light-hearted samples. Over the years, Rémi Gallego has tuned his flair for mesmeric, playful compositions to develop a richer, more streamlined sound. Recursive Infinity continues the recent upward trend Data Renaissance began. With riffs and rhythms the slickest since Brute Force, and melodies the brightest and most colourful since equally-prettily adorned Polymorphic Code, it’s a cyberpunk tour-de-force. The wildness is trained, chunky heaviness grounding magnetic melodies (“Race Condition,” “Mutex,” “By Design”), dense chugging transitioning seamlessly into techno (“Advanced Iteration Technique,” “Hollowing,” “Graceful Degradation), and adding bite to bubbly, candy-coloured soundscapes (“Rainbow Table,”). The skittering of breakbeats tempers synthwave (“Endless Iteration), and bright pulses wrap cascading electro-core (“Race Condition,” “Mutex”) and orchestral melodrama (“Recursive Infinity”). It’s often strongly reminiscent of some point in The Algorithm’s history, but everything is upgraded from charming to entrancing. This provides a new way to interpret Recursive Infinity: not just a reference to an endless loop in general, but to Boucle Infinie (Infinite Loop)—Remi’s other musical project—and by extension, The Algorithm themselves. Yet he is still experimenting, including vocoder vocals (“Endless Iteration,” “By Design”) for a surprisingly successful dark-Daft Punk vibe in slower, moodier moments. With nostalgic throwbacks transformed so beautifully, and the continued evolution, there’s simply no way I can ignore The Algorithm now. And neither should you.

Recursive Infinity by The Algorithm

Owlswald’s Holiday Scraps

Sun of the Suns // Entanglement [December 12th, 2025 – Scarlet Records]

Bands and labels take heed—We reserve December for two things: Listurnalia and celebrating another trip around the sun. It is not for releasing new music. Yet this blunder persists, ensuring we inevitably miss gems like Sun of the Suns’ sophomore effort, Entanglement.5 The record dropped just as the world was tuning out for the year, and it deserves much better. Building on the foundation of their 2021 debut, TIIT, the Italian trio has significantly beefed up their progressive death formula. Mixing tech-death articulation with deathcore brutality, Entanglement ensures fans of Fallujah will feel right at home with its effervescent clean melodies and crystalline textures. Francesca Paoli (Fleshgod Apocalypse) returns to provide another masterclass behind the kit with rapid-fire double-bass, blasts, and tom fills, while guitarists Marco Righetti and Ludovico Cioffi deliver cosmic shredding and radiant solos that are both technical and deliberate. While the early tracks lean into Fallujahian songcraft and Tesseract-style arpeggios, the album shines brightest late when the group largely sheds its stylistic orbit. “Please, Blackout My Eyes” pivots toward a majestic Aeternam vibe with ethereal tech-death incisiveness, while “One With the Sun” and “The Void Where Sound Ends Its Path” hit like a sledgehammer with Xenobiotic’s deathcore grooves. Though Luca Dave Scarlatti’s vocals lack differentiation, the sheer quality of the compositions carries the weight, proving Sun of the Suns are much more than mere clones.

Entanglement by Sun Of The Suns

Änterbila – Avart Review

By Grin Reaper

Billed as blackened folk metal and boasting a sound that will remind listeners of the aughts-era Darkthrone, Änterbila1 returns with sophomore album Avart. Three years removed from their self-titled debut, the foursome from Gävleborg County, Sweden, retains the core sonic principles of Änterbila and dunks them into the muck, invoking a darker, grimier aura. Where the plight of peasantry informed Änterbila’s sensibilities, Avart looks to national folklore for inspiration. Rather than interpreting that folklore through the eyes of those who passed the stories on, though, Avart revisits lore from the perspective of the other side, the witch to Grimms’ Hansel und Gretel, imparting a sinister edge to the music. Is Änterbila’s latest platter sharp enough to brandish, or does it need more time with the honing rod?

The marriage of black and folk metal can take different forms, with folk infusions coming from instrumentation, melodies, and/or folk and pagan themes. Änterbila offers all of them, but presented disparately as stark components rather than fused together as an interconnected whole. Bookend instrumentals “Låt till Far” and “Eklnundapolskan” feature strings, a bagpipe, and choral harmonies between them, not unlike Saor or Summoning. These tracks conjure rustic firesides with an air of excitement as strange tales are told around them. Avart’s other six tracks are categorically different, hovering between pagan-leaning, late-eighties Bathory (“Kniven”) and the punky pluck of early Vreid (“Jordfäst”). I even catch a whiff of Bizarrekult (“Årsgång”) in the midst. None of the flavors are bad on their own, but without more cohesion, they’re a bit confusing on the same plate.

Avart is a lively affair, with snappy licks, punky riffs, and burbling kick rolls that whisk listeners through half an hour of sprightly black metal. Bandleader and founder Jerff wields axe and vocal duties, with Raamt abetting in six-string antics. The guitars trem pick their way through Avart, embracing an unadorned style that takes a few simple melodies, interchanges them every now and then, and rides through four or five minutes. There’s nothing inherently wrong with this stripped-down approach, but without more distinctive hooks or emotive vocals, the songs bleed together. Drop me in the middle of any of the songs, and I’ll have a tough time naming which one it is unless Jerff repeats the title several times (“Kniven,” “Jordfäst”). Another issue Änterbila grapples with throughout Avart is repetition. Even with such a compact runtime, there’s not always enough substance to justify track lengths. “Jordfäst” could explore its ideas in two-thirds the time, for example, but instead pushes them past optimal duration. As it currently stands, there’s enough material for a solid EP, but relentless refrains without variations make shallow wells, and drawing from them too often becomes tedious.

Änterbila’s strengths lie in creating a dangerously charming atmosphere and not overstaying their welcome. Avart’s old school production underscores its low-fi mood, perfect for settings of yore where things lurking within shadows go bump in the night. Even though the mix isn’t polished, it ably captures Svaltunga’s punchy bass and drummer Monstrum’s quadrupedal onslaught. There flows an energy in the music that crackles with roguish vigor, and it’s here that Änterbila excels. It’s a shame lyrics weren’t included as part of the press kit since dark folklore provides such fertile ground for music. Understanding what the (presumed) native Swedish translates to could have heightened my appreciation for what secrets Avart holds. Still, the runtime is trim and helps deflect some of the monotony of simpler song structures, keeping the overall package easily digestible.

Änterbila possesses all the ingredients for a rollocking good time, but fumbles with the recipe. The folk metal tag is a bit misleading, and given that the folk elements are so well-executed in the intro and outro, it’s disappointing that Änterbila didn’t incorporate them throughout the entire album. Doing so could have thwarted the uniformity across the remaining songs, adding dynamism and a through-line that brings everything together with reinforced congruity. Every time I spin Avart, I hope to find something I’d missed previously, because I want to like it more than I do. Avart seethes with potential, and while I don’t regret any of the time I spent with the album, I don’t expect to return to it, either. Hopefully, the next iteration delivers on the promise Änterbila has established here.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nordvis Produktion
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: November 14th, 2025

#20 #2025 #anterbila #avart #bathory #bizarrekult #blackFolkMetal #blackMetal #darkthrone #folkMetal #metal #nordvisProduktion #nov25 #review #reviews #saor #summoning #swedish #vreid

ÄNTERBILA (Suècia) presenta nou àlbum: "Avart" #Änterbila #BlackMetal #FolkMetal #Novembre2025 #Suècia #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

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

Æl-Fierlen – All Is Far Away Review

By Killjoy

Like a specter emerging from the mist, Æl-Fierlen is a brand new post-black metal act that materialized in Southern England in 2024. Their name comes from an Anglo-Saxon phrase meaning “all is far away,” making their debut something of an eponymous record. This phrase resonates with me because, despite living so close to many wonderful outdoor locations, I don’t make nearly as much time as I ought to experience them. As if beckoning to me, Æl-Fierlen sums up their sound with the simple declaration, “We are what the woods sounds like.” If you long to become lost in mystic marvels, come take a walk through the metaphorical trees.

Just as a forest has both light and dark spots, so does the music of Æl-Fierlen. In this way, they sound very much like a sister group of Helga, weaving elegant post-rock together with strands of black metal. There is also a discernible folk tinge akin to cousin groups Kalandra and Suldusk. Æl-Fierlen mainly sticks to the brighter style of Kalandra, like a well-lit clearing near the outskirts. But sometimes the compositions dare to venture into darker Suldusk territory with ominous whispers and guitar strumming that erupt into blast beats and shrieks without warning. What these three related groups have in common is a captivating female lead vocalist, and Æl-Fierlen is similarly rooted in Stephanie Moffatt’s enchanting voice.

A lot hinges on Moffatt’s vocals and she comes through in a big way. Her singing has an otherworldly, spectral quality, yet is also warm and inviting. Then, in the final verse of “To Sleep Eternal,” she shifts to a higher octave which heightens the drama for a flourishing finish. However, much like Sylvaine, she is not confined to ethereal tones, adopting a piercing bite when the occasion calls for it. “Eðe”1 is the prime example of her masterful mixture of chilling rasps and guttural growls, and it also happens to be the song with the most black metal influence. Her coarse whispers cast a menacing shadow over “Pulrose,” just enough for an underscoring effect without being overused. All in all, Moffatt’s versatility is one of Æl-Fierlen’s most important assets.

Examined holistically, though, All Is Far Away seems a little thin in both sound and content. This is partly because the instrumental side often takes a stripped-back form, likely to accommodate the vocals. The other band members do have their moments to shine; I particularly enjoy it when Rob Melville’s guitar tremolos intertwine with drummer Ginger’s knotted double bass drum rhythms in the back half of “Ællmiht.” It’s just that these moments aren’t as pronounced or developed as I’d prefer. This might not have been much of an issue if there were a bit more to chew on. Clocking in at 33 minutes across only four tracks, All Is Far Away is barely longer than an EP. To Æl-Fierlen’s credit, even though most of the songs are in the 8-11 minute range, they flow silkily and hardly feel their length. One more such song would have been perfect.

Æl-Fierlen has a keen sense of grace and beauty. If, like me, you find it hard to set aside time to be physically present in nature, All Is Far Away offers a charming aural jaunt through the woods. Stephanie Moffatt’s delightful and multifaceted voice perfectly suits the evocative atmosphere. Each of the four tracks has its own distinct character, one leading into the next like a gently flowing brook. All Is Far Away is a cohesive and convincing first effort from a nascent group, albeit a tad on the lean side. While this may be more of a foundational work, I look forward to hearing what Æl-Fierlen builds atop it in the future.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: ael-fierlen.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/AElFierlen
Releases Worldwide: September 19th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AllIsFarAway #ÆlFierlen #BlackMetal #BritishMetal #FolkMetal #Helga #Kalandra #PostRock #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sep25 #Suldusk #Sylvaine

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

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

CRAVING (Alemanya) presenta nou àlbum en directe: "Calling the Sirens of the Old Fortress" #Craving #MelodicDeath #BlackMetal #FolkMetal #Maig2025 #Alemanya #NouÀlbumEnDirecte #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Flummox – Southern Progress Review

By Kenstrosity

Originally slated to be my main Thing You Might Have Missed feature, Tennessee avant-garde metal quintet Flummox’s fifth LP Southern Progress caught me completely off guard. Attracted to the prompt “their most obnoxious album yet,” I wasn’t sure what to expect from my first exposure to Flummox’s work. I figured it might be weird, but it’s also distinctive, fun, and infectious. Fearlessly creative, deeply detailed, lyrically cutting, and stupidly intelligent, Southern Progress rapidly became my favorite record released so far this year. It doesn’t seem likely now that anything out of the metalverse this year will surpass it.

Southern Progress embodies a rhizomic system of inspirations and influences that, when harnessed by Flummox’s wacky brains, emerges from the soil as something wholly unique in style, sound, and intent. My best attempt to contextualize this material would involve names from the progsphere like Fair to Midland, Native Construct, Pink Floyd, early Queen, and Mike Patton; purveyors of the extreme such as Strapping Young Lad and Slugdge; avant-garde touchstones like Mr. Bungle, Igorrr, and Diablo Swing Orchestra; genre-jumpers such as King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard; and even cinematic composers like Danny Elfman and Hans Zimmer.1 Ultimately, though, there is no comfortable comparison. Flummox are a singular entity of weird, wild, theatrical metal capable of nailing every bizarre idea they throw at me, such that in less than a week, I had a majority portion of Southern Progress’ 57-minute runtime pinned to my psyche. All the while, its candid exposition of the queer and genderfluid experience in the Bible Belt (“Southern Progress”) struck a chord so rarely plucked by music on this sphere, and its inspired exploration of the neurodivergent experience as one of its parallel plot lines (“Executive Dysfunction”) gave me an easy avenue to resonate even more deeply with its voice.

The tricky reality of Southern Progress is that 750 words is woefully insufficient to encompass all that Flummox achieves, but its primary triumph is in universal songwriting excellence. Music like this marks a once-in-a-blue-moon occasion—and an ambitious undertaking—but Flummox makes it look effortless as they balance the beauty of melodious, theatrical compositions with the livid, frothing rabidity of searing, off-kilter riffs, thunderous rhythms, and revolutionary attitude (“Southern Progress,” “Femto’s Theme,” “Long Pork,” “Executive Dysfunction”). While these elements are familiar to anyone with experience in the metalverse, their twisted forms instead leave a vivid impression of something altogether more eccentric and uncanny (“Southern Progress,” “Nesting Doll,” “Locust Eater,” “Coyote Gospel”). Well-defined structures and concrete themes play their part in making sure these warped representations stick. Presenting every unhinged idea, cynical line, and explosive outburst inside a digestible package makes Southern Progress somehow even stranger and more enthralling for its deceiving accessibility (“What We’re In For…,” “Always Something Going Down,” “Siren Shock,” “Flumlindalë”).

In spite of its unquestionable adoption of metallic methods, Southern Progress is an intensely theatrical affair unfit for the genrephobic, but is nonetheless something everyone should experience at least once. Challenging in a different way than Imperial Triumphant or other known creators of what certain pundits call “not music,” Flummox is similarly fearless in their exploration of style and technique, and equally meticulous in application and execution. To that end, Southern Progress’ music is mutated and maniacal, but grounded through several root elements: emotional depth, societal awareness, thoughtful critiques, and artistic integrity. More than just a vehicle for that cogent societal commentary, the potent passion that each member of Flummox hemorrhaged into Southern Progress is unmatched by all except the unfuckwithable technical quality of their writing and performances. The fact that this intangible factor boasts such strong presence inside of, and coalesces so harmoniously with, the tangible product proves that Flummox’s dedication, attention to detail, and intentional artistry contributes meaningful substance and significance not just to Southern Progress on its own, but also to the greater body of metal as we know it today.

It is for this reason that Flummox’s Southern Progress isn’t just an excellent album, but also an important one. Aside from its high artistic merit, Southern Progress is a timely and fierce challenge against the dehumanization of queer, gender-nonconforming, and even neurodivergent communities across the American South—and, by extension, the country—especially by organized religious (read: Christian) entities. But it’s also a celebration, a triumphant expression of pride and love and resilience that only comes from openly and unashamedly discovering, struggling with, and ultimately embodying all that you are in spirit, body, and mind. Everyone deserves to know this feeling without fear of stigmatization, fetishization, violence, or isolation. Southern Progress is an unorthodox and fun, but wildly effective, advocate for that cause.

Rating: Excellent!2
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Needlejuice Records
Websites: flummoxed.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/flummoxband
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

Show 2 footnotes

1. Specifically, Zimmer’s work for Rango’s OST. ↩
2. You should expect to see me within a year or so, Contrite and ashamed that I didn’t award this the coveted Iconic score! ↩

#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #AvantGarde #BlackMetal #DannyElfman #DeathMetal #DiabloSwingOrchestra #ExperimentalMetal #FairToMidland #Flummox #FolkMetal #Gospel #HansZimmer #Igorrr #ImperialTriumphant #KingGizzardAndTheLizardWizard #MelodicMetal #MikePatton #MrBungle #NativeConstruct #NeedlejuiceRecords #PinkFloyd #ProgressiveMetal #Queen #Review #Reviews #Slugdge #SouthernProgress #StrappingYoungLad

ELVENKING (Itàlia) presenta nou àlbum: "Reader of the Runes - Luna" #Elvenking #MelodicPower #FolkMetal #Abril2025 #Itàlia #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

ELVENKING (Itàlia) presenta nou single: "Gone Epoch" #Elvenking #MelodicPower #FolkMetal #Febrer2025 #Itàlia #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

VJEČNA ŠUMA (Austràlia) presenta nou àlbum: "The Stormbound Curse" #VječnaŠuma #BlackenedDeath #FolkMetal #Febrer2025 #Austràlia #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

SALAMAN ISKU – Le Voyage Nocturne
#BitumeProds #Experimental #Grunge #Metal #MetalPsychédélique #Punk #Rock #folkmetal #psychedelicmetal #France
CC BY-NC-SA (#CreativeCommons Attribution Non Commercial Share Alike)
https://bitumeprods.bandcamp.com/album/le-voyage-nocturne

#Heavenqueen
La #musique d' #Heavenqueen se caractérise par des #émotions #pures, #brutes, #belles et #intenses, présentées dans un #packaging #musical qui interprète parfaitement ces émotions. Avec le #métal comme #base, le #groupe a également des #chansons de #heavy_rock, du #folk-metal, des #ballades #acoustiques et des #chansons basées sur un #tango ou une #valse.
https://youtu.be/reoSDHFKkA8?si=1lxJ8x5Ohkxn2GJV

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#MetalInjection
Album Review: TZOMPANTLI Beating The Drums Of Ancestral Force
"Backdrops and inspirations aside, this is music for rumbling the depths of the soul."

https://metalinjection.net/reviews/album-review-tzompantli-beating-the-drums-of-ancestral-force

#albumreview #deathdoom #tzompantli #ancestralforce #skullracks #aztecempire #heavyhardcore #deathmetal #sludge #folkmetal

Μπαλάντα "συναυλιακού τύπου" για αναμμένους αναπτήρες (όχι κινητά ΓΤΣΣ 😈 ) και τραγούδι από το κοινό, με δυνατό ξέσπασμα στη λήξη.

Σπάει την άβυσσο φωτιά στον ουρανό
που την κεντάνε νύχτα οι Πλειάδες,
η Μοίρα θα χορεύει με το Θάνατο
όταν θα κλείνουνε οι Συμπληγάδες.

Εκεί που πάμε θα ‘μαστε οι ζωντανοί,
σαν αστραπή στη νυχτωδία
που θα φωτίσει όσους έπεσαν νεκροί,
αυτούς που έπνιξε η αγωνία.


#KHIRKI #ERisNowPlaying #music #folkmetal #metal #παίζειτώρα #βαράτε_βιολιτζήδες #μουσική

https://khirkirocks.bandcamp.com/track/-

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#MetalInjection
The Weekly Injection: New Releases From NECROT, TÝR, CASTLE RAT & More Out Today 4/12
Plus releases from Benighted, Eidola, Heavy Temple, Northlane, and Spit On Your Grave.

https://metalinjection.net/upcoming-releases/heavy-new-releases/the-weekly-injection-new-releases-from-necrot-tyr-castle-rat-more-out-today-4-12

#WeeklyInjection #NewReleases #Necrot #Ekbom #Benighted #CastleRat #Eidola #HeavyTemple #Northlane #SpitOnYourGrave #Tyr #BattleBallads #FolkMetal #DeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #AlternativeMetal #ProgressiveMetalCore #PostHardcore #StonerMetal #PsychedelicMetal

I'm listening to Multiple Truths by Melechesh

https://songwhip.com/Melechesh/Multiple-Truths

If the previous link doesn't work, try the next one:
https://songwhip.com/convert?url=https://open.spotify.com/track/2oX8I1qcmGfIyo4mQSczfe&sourceAction=pasteUrl

https://metalpython.pythonanywhere.com/searchandtoot

#nowplaying #blackmetal #blackmetalmonday #folkmetal #israelimetal #orientalmetal #paganblackmetal

Do you trust Spotify's Ads? If you use it (for free, as I do) you might have encountered repellent things like Fyllis (sorrynotsorry) or weird bands that you can't be sure if there's someone behind them or they are some weird AI thing.

However, last week I was so reckless to dare to click on an Ad. And I found this:

Varg "Immer Treu"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iB5asEhV1JI

#PaganBlackMetal #FolkMetal #MittwochMetalMix // cc @Kitty

I have never thought I would find beauty, real and pure beauty, into something with growls and blast beats. But then I found Vermilia. Her music is my current obsession, and her last album "Ruska" is beautiful!

Vermilia "Tuonen Joki"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IW6Bs7iUlRc

#BlackMetalMonday (by @HailsandAles)

#BlackMetal #PaganBlackMetal #FolkMetal

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#louder
"Playing our songs in t-shirts and jeans is not the way." Brothers Of Metal look like vikings, play power metal and are annoying elitists - and they're loving every second of it
Could Brothers Of Metal make viking metal bigger than ever?

https://www.loudersound.com/features/brothers-of-metal-introduction-feature

#BrothersOfMetal
#PowerMetal
#RootsOfYggdrasil
#ProphesyOfRagnarok
#GodsOfThunder
#YoutubeSensation
#EuropeanTours
#FemaleVocalists
#SwedishMetal
#FolkMetal