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Hanternoz – A Hed an Noz, a Noz, a Noz Review

One of the things I enjoy most about folk metal is that I never know exactly what I’m…
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https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/759062/

One of the things I enjoy most about folk metal is that I never know exactly what I’m going to hear until I press play. This is, of course, due to the fact that folk music in general varies so widely depending on the region from which it originates. Hyver, who runs the label Antiq Records in France, has been crafting medieval-style folk/black metal under various musical projects for some time now. Twelve found plenty to praise in 2021’s Au Fleuve de Loire, notwithstanding its patchwork nature. The latest collection of Hanternoz songs is each about a different type of devil from Breton folklore. From what I can gather, A Hed an Noz, a Noz, a Noz loosely translates as “At Night, At Night, At Night” in Breton. Does this album go bump in the night or does it fall with a flat thud?

A Hed an Noz should sound familiar to those who have heard Hyver’s other work. The bread and butter is still the heroic trem-picked guitars and gallant drumming that one can also hear from Véhémence or (to a lesser extent) Grylle. Hyver’s vocals are as chameleonic as ever, adopting many different shades of demonic rasps, growls, and groans that embody the album’s theme. This diversity in vocal styles is fortunate because the diversity of instrumentation has greatly diminished. This time, Hanternoz mostly takes the Cnoc An Tursa approach of examining folk music through a metal lens without much in the way of actual folk instruments, which are sequestered to the lone instrumental interlude “Pe trouz War an Douar.”

The fact that the bag of tricks from which Hanternoz draws is much smaller ends up holding back A Hed an Noz. It’s a sizable step backward from Au Fleuve de Loire, where the folk music and synths were woven directly into the black metal in a more energetic and dynamic fashion. Hanternoz may have taken to heart Twelve’s prior observation of the compositions feeling stitched together because A Hed an Noz is certainly more cohesive, but at the cost of much of its zeal. To be fair, this is not an issue across the board. Most notably, “La Lessive des Trépassés” is punchy and to the point, with Joanna Maeyens’1 guest vocals overlapping enchantingly with the predominant growls. The production of A Hed an Noz is nice and crisp, especially with regard to the bass mixing, which greatly enriches the guitar lines (“La Peste à Limoges,” “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt”).

Yet, these promising core elements of A Hed an Noz are undermined by an overreliance on repetition. Opener “Sur le Chemin des fées” is somehow galloping and plodding at the same time, the triumphant guitars becoming muted as they build up again and again towards a payoff that never comes after nearly 12 minutes. Closing track “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt” gets stuck in a mid-paced rut, resulting in a more lethargic sensation than should be warranted given the valiant guitar leads. The long-form songwriting in “La Peste à Limoges” fares better, centered around an infectious, bouncy groove which gets my head bobbing, though the midsection is a tad protracted and disjointed. The charismatic vocal delivery helps but isn’t enough to overcome the fact that no song on A Hed an Noz is justified in being over 6 minutes long, yet most of them are.

Ultimately, A Hed an Noz left less and less of an impression on me the more time I spent with it. The delightful unpredictability from Au Fleuve de Loire is simply not present here. I am left puzzled as to why Hanternoz decided to discard the majority of the toolkit that served them well in the past. There is a fair amount of decent material here that would have done better without as much padding, and it’s worth a listen by anyone who enjoys Hyver’s take on medieval black metal. Just expect less medieval and more monotony this time around.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Websites: antiqofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Hanternoz-Pagan-de-Bretagne
Releases Worldwide: August 3rd, 2026

One of the things I enjoy most about folk metal is that I never know exactly what I’m going to hear until I press play. This is, of course, due to the fact that folk music in general varies so widely depending on the region from which it originates. Hyver, who runs the label Antiq Records in France, has been crafting medieval-style folk/black metal under various musical projects for some time now. Twelve found plenty to praise in 2021’s Au Fleuve de Loire, notwithstanding its patchwork nature. The latest collection of Hanternoz songs is each about a different type of devil from Breton folklore. From what I can gather, A Hed an Noz, a Noz, a Noz loosely translates as “At Night, At Night, At Night” in Breton. Does this album go bump in the night or does it fall with a flat thud?

A Hed an Noz should sound familiar to those who have heard Hyver’s other work. The bread and butter is still the heroic trem-picked guitars and gallant drumming that one can also hear from Véhémence or (to a lesser extent) Grylle. Hyver’s vocals are as chameleonic as ever, adopting many different shades of demonic rasps, growls, and groans that embody the album’s theme. This diversity in vocal styles is fortunate because the diversity of instrumentation has greatly diminished. This time, Hanternoz mostly takes the Cnoc An Tursa approach of examining folk music through a metal lens without much in the way of actual folk instruments, which are sequestered to the lone instrumental interlude “Pe trouz War an Douar.”

The fact that the bag of tricks from which Hanternoz draws is much smaller ends up holding back A Hed an Noz. It’s a sizable step backward from Au Fleuve de Loire, where the folk music and synths were woven directly into the black metal in a more energetic and dynamic fashion. Hanternoz may have taken to heart Twelve’s prior observation of the compositions feeling stitched together because A Hed an Noz is certainly more cohesive, but at the cost of much of its zeal. To be fair, this is not an issue across the board. Most notably, “La Lessive des Trépassés” is punchy and to the point, with Joanna Maeyens’1 guest vocals overlapping enchantingly with the predominant growls. The production of A Hed an Noz is nice and crisp, especially with regard to the bass mixing, which greatly enriches the guitar lines (“La Peste à Limoges,” “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt”).

Yet, these promising core elements of A Hed an Noz are undermined by an overreliance on repetition. Opener “Sur le Chemin des fées” is somehow galloping and plodding at the same time, the triumphant guitars becoming muted as they build up again and again towards a payoff that never comes after nearly 12 minutes. Closing track “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt” gets stuck in a mid-paced rut, resulting in a more lethargic sensation than should be warranted given the valiant guitar leads. The long-form songwriting in “La Peste à Limoges” fares better, centered around an infectious, bouncy groove which gets my head bobbing, though the midsection is a tad protracted and disjointed. The charismatic vocal delivery helps but isn’t enough to overcome the fact that no song on A Hed an Noz is justified in being over 6 minutes long, yet most of them are.

Ultimately, A Hed an Noz left less and less of an impression on me the more time I spent with it. The delightful unpredictability from Au Fleuve de Loire is simply not present here. I am left puzzled as to why Hanternoz decided to discard the majority of the toolkit that served them well in the past. There is a fair amount of decent material here that would have done better without as much padding, and it’s worth a listen by anyone who enjoys Hyver’s take on medieval black metal. Just expect less medieval and more monotony this time around.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Websites: antiqofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Hanternoz-Pagan-de-Bretagne
Releases Worldwide: August 3rd, 2026

One of the things I enjoy most about folk metal is that I never know exactly what I’m going to hear until I press play. This is, of course, due to the fact that folk music in general varies so widely depending on the region from which it originates. Hyver, who runs the label Antiq Records in France, has been crafting medieval-style folk/black metal under various musical projects for some time now. Twelve found plenty to praise in 2021’s Au Fleuve de Loire, notwithstanding its patchwork nature. The latest collection of Hanternoz songs is each about a different type of devil from Breton folklore. From what I can gather, A Hed an Noz, a Noz, a Noz loosely translates as “At Night, At Night, At Night” in Breton. Does this album go bump in the night or does it fall with a flat thud?

A Hed an Noz should sound familiar to those who have heard Hyver’s other work. The bread and butter is still the heroic trem-picked guitars and gallant drumming that one can also hear from Véhémence or (to a lesser extent) Grylle. Hyver’s vocals are as chameleonic as ever, adopting many different shades of demonic rasps, growls, and groans that embody the album’s theme. This diversity in vocal styles is fortunate because the diversity of instrumentation has greatly diminished. This time, Hanternoz mostly takes the Cnoc An Tursa approach of examining folk music through a metal lens without much in the way of actual folk instruments, which are sequestered to the lone instrumental interlude “Pe trouz War an Douar.”

The fact that the bag of tricks from which Hanternoz draws is much smaller ends up holding back A Hed an Noz. It’s a sizable step backward from Au Fleuve de Loire, where the folk music and synths were woven directly into the black metal in a more energetic and dynamic fashion. Hanternoz may have taken to heart Twelve’s prior observation of the compositions feeling stitched together because A Hed an Noz is certainly more cohesive, but at the cost of much of its zeal. To be fair, this is not an issue across the board. Most notably, “La Lessive des Trépassés” is punchy and to the point, with Joanna Maeyens’1 guest vocals overlapping enchantingly with the predominant growls. The production of A Hed an Noz is nice and crisp, especially with regard to the bass mixing, which greatly enriches the guitar lines (“La Peste à Limoges,” “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt”).

Yet, these promising core elements of A Hed an Noz are undermined by an overreliance on repetition. Opener “Sur le Chemin des fées” is somehow galloping and plodding at the same time, the triumphant guitars becoming muted as they build up again and again towards a payoff that never comes after nearly 12 minutes. Closing track “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt” gets stuck in a mid-paced rut, resulting in a more lethargic sensation than should be warranted given the valiant guitar leads. The long-form songwriting in “La Peste à Limoges” fares better, centered around an infectious, bouncy groove which gets my head bobbing, though the midsection is a tad protracted and disjointed. The charismatic vocal delivery helps but isn’t enough to overcome the fact that no song on A Hed an Noz is justified in being over 6 minutes long, yet most of them are.

Ultimately, A Hed an Noz left less and less of an impression on me the more time I spent with it. The delightful unpredictability from Au Fleuve de Loire is simply not present here. I am left puzzled as to why Hanternoz decided to discard the majority of the toolkit that served them well in the past. There is a fair amount of decent material here that would have done better without as much padding, and it’s worth a listen by anyone who enjoys Hyver’s take on medieval black metal. Just expect less medieval and more monotony this time around.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Websites: antiqofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Hanternoz-Pagan-de-Bretagne
Releases Worldwide: August 3rd, 2026

One of the things I enjoy most about folk metal is that I never know exactly what I’m going to hear until I press play. This is, of course, due to the fact that folk music in general varies so widely depending on the region from which it originates. Hyver, who runs the label Antiq Records in France, has been crafting medieval-style folk/black metal under various musical projects for some time now. Twelve found plenty to praise in 2021’s Au Fleuve de Loire, notwithstanding its patchwork nature. The latest collection of Hanternoz songs is each about a different type of devil from Breton folklore. From what I can gather, A Hed an Noz, a Noz, a Noz loosely translates as “At Night, At Night, At Night” in Breton. Does this album go bump in the night or does it fall with a flat thud?

A Hed an Noz should sound familiar to those who have heard Hyver’s other work. The bread and butter is still the heroic trem-picked guitars and gallant drumming that one can also hear from Véhémence or (to a lesser extent) Grylle. Hyver’s vocals are as chameleonic as ever, adopting many different shades of demonic rasps, growls, and groans that embody the album’s theme. This diversity in vocal styles is fortunate because the diversity of instrumentation has greatly diminished. This time, Hanternoz mostly takes the Cnoc An Tursa approach of examining folk music through a metal lens without much in the way of actual folk instruments, which are sequestered to the lone instrumental interlude “Pe trouz War an Douar.”

The fact that the bag of tricks from which Hanternoz draws is much smaller ends up holding back A Hed an Noz. It’s a sizable step backward from Au Fleuve de Loire, where the folk music and synths were woven directly into the black metal in a more energetic and dynamic fashion. Hanternoz may have taken to heart Twelve’s prior observation of the compositions feeling stitched together because A Hed an Noz is certainly more cohesive, but at the cost of much of its zeal. To be fair, this is not an issue across the board. Most notably, “La Lessive des Trépassés” is punchy and to the point, with Joanna Maeyens’1 guest vocals overlapping enchantingly with the predominant growls. The production of A Hed an Noz is nice and crisp, especially with regard to the bass mixing, which greatly enriches the guitar lines (“La Peste à Limoges,” “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt”).

Yet, these promising core elements of A Hed an Noz are undermined by an overreliance on repetition. Opener “Sur le Chemin des fées” is somehow galloping and plodding at the same time, the triumphant guitars becoming muted as they build up again and again towards a payoff that never comes after nearly 12 minutes. Closing track “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt” gets stuck in a mid-paced rut, resulting in a more lethargic sensation than should be warranted given the valiant guitar leads. The long-form songwriting in “La Peste à Limoges” fares better, centered around an infectious, bouncy groove which gets my head bobbing, though the midsection is a tad protracted and disjointed. The charismatic vocal delivery helps but isn’t enough to overcome the fact that no song on A Hed an Noz is justified in being over 6 minutes long, yet most of them are.

Ultimately, A Hed an Noz left less and less of an impression on me the more time I spent with it. The delightful unpredictability from Au Fleuve de Loire is simply not present here. I am left puzzled as to why Hanternoz decided to discard the majority of the toolkit that served them well in the past. There is a fair amount of decent material here that would have done better without as much padding, and it’s worth a listen by anyone who enjoys Hyver’s take on medieval black metal. Just expect less medieval and more monotony this time around.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Websites: antiqofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Hanternoz-Pagan-de-Bretagne
Releases Worldwide: August 3rd, 2026

One of the things I enjoy most about folk metal is that I never know exactly what I’m going to hear until I press play. This is, of course, due to the fact that folk music in general varies so widely depending on the region from which it originates. Hyver, who runs the label Antiq Records in France, has been crafting medieval-style folk/black metal under various musical projects for some time now. Twelve found plenty to praise in 2021’s Au Fleuve de Loire, notwithstanding its patchwork nature. The latest collection of Hanternoz songs is each about a different type of devil from Breton folklore. From what I can gather, A Hed an Noz, a Noz, a Noz loosely translates as “At Night, At Night, At Night” in Breton. Does this album go bump in the night or does it fall with a flat thud?

A Hed an Noz should sound familiar to those who have heard Hyver’s other work. The bread and butter is still the heroic trem-picked guitars and gallant drumming that one can also hear from Véhémence or (to a lesser extent) Grylle. Hyver’s vocals are as chameleonic as ever, adopting many different shades of demonic rasps, growls, and groans that embody the album’s theme. This diversity in vocal styles is fortunate because the diversity of instrumentation has greatly diminished. This time, Hanternoz mostly takes the Cnoc An Tursa approach of examining folk music through a metal lens without much in the way of actual folk instruments, which are sequestered to the lone instrumental interlude “Pe trouz War an Douar.”

The fact that the bag of tricks from which Hanternoz draws is much smaller ends up holding back A Hed an Noz. It’s a sizable step backward from Au Fleuve de Loire, where the folk music and synths were woven directly into the black metal in a more energetic and dynamic fashion. Hanternoz may have taken to heart Twelve’s prior observation of the compositions feeling stitched together because A Hed an Noz is certainly more cohesive, but at the cost of much of its zeal. To be fair, this is not an issue across the board. Most notably, “La Lessive des Trépassés” is punchy and to the point, with Joanna Maeyens’1 guest vocals overlapping enchantingly with the predominant growls. The production of A Hed an Noz is nice and crisp, especially with regard to the bass mixing, which greatly enriches the guitar lines (“La Peste à Limoges,” “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt”).

Yet, these promising core elements of A Hed an Noz are undermined by an overreliance on repetition. Opener “Sur le Chemin des fées” is somehow galloping and plodding at the same time, the triumphant guitars becoming muted as they build up again and again towards a payoff that never comes after nearly 12 minutes. Closing track “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt” gets stuck in a mid-paced rut, resulting in a more lethargic sensation than should be warranted given the valiant guitar leads. The long-form songwriting in “La Peste à Limoges” fares better, centered around an infectious, bouncy groove which gets my head bobbing, though the midsection is a tad protracted and disjointed. The charismatic vocal delivery helps but isn’t enough to overcome the fact that no song on A Hed an Noz is justified in being over 6 minutes long, yet most of them are.

Ultimately, A Hed an Noz left less and less of an impression on me the more time I spent with it. The delightful unpredictability from Au Fleuve de Loire is simply not present here. I am left puzzled as to why Hanternoz decided to discard the majority of the toolkit that served them well in the past. There is a fair amount of decent material here that would have done better without as much padding, and it’s worth a listen by anyone who enjoys Hyver’s take on medieval black metal. Just expect less medieval and more monotony this time around.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Websites: antiqofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Hanternoz-Pagan-de-Bretagne
Releases Worldwide: August 3rd, 2026

Today's music:

Smuta - Вереск

https://youtu.be/jIkHa78iQRc

#metal #FolkMetal #PaganMetal #russia #music #np #NowPlaying #MastoMusic

Today's music:

Smuta - Вереск

https://youtu.be/jIkHa78iQRc

#metal #FolkMetal #PaganMetal #russia #music #np #NowPlaying #MastoMusic

Today's music:

Smuta - Вереск

https://youtu.be/jIkHa78iQRc

#metal #FolkMetal #PaganMetal #russia #music #np #NowPlaying #MastoMusic

Today's music:

Smuta - Вереск

https://youtu.be/jIkHa78iQRc

#metal #FolkMetal #PaganMetal #russia #music #np #NowPlaying #MastoMusic

Today's music:

Smuta - Вереск

https://youtu.be/jIkHa78iQRc

#metal #FolkMetal #PaganMetal #russia #music #np #NowPlaying #MastoMusic

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

Rate this:

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

Rate this: