#frozensoul — Public Fediverse posts

Sometimes you need an album that slaps. An album to lower the type of smackdown to make The Rock jealous, an album that brings out the joyful superlatives and meme-tier descriptors. Swedish death is the lynchpin of this idea, the undying zombie of subgenres, the style that spits in the face of innovation and artistic wankery in the name of digging further and further into still untapped and worm-riddled pockets of the grave soil. Somehow this sound was exhausted in scope years after its inception, yet it simply refuses to crawl into its own coffin as every new moon more bands pick up the Dismember’ed remains of the founding fathers to prove that it was this, specifically, Jack Black was referencing when he said: “You can’t kill the metal.” Gravecrawler (who, appropriately, are actually from Sweden) are the next to offer up their skulls for the skull throne with their debut album Nidus, and my friends, if you love to worship at the altar of the hm-2, grab your hymnals, because this right here is a rabid, bloodthirsty beast.

As is well documented through the genre’s history, good Swedeath lives on two elements: its production and its riffs. Nidus has both in spades, with a mix that is fat, burly, and deranged, flinging weepy leads and rotting remnants of entrails in equal measure. There are only so many ways in the English language to say “you know what to expect”, and short of my writing something like “무엇을 예상해야 할지 아실 겁니다.”, it’s hard not to sound plagiaristic of every other review ever. Guitars buzz away with the roaring hm-2 tones, atmosphere oozes through the riffcraft, and the superiority of the CHUG-G-G-G-G reasserts itself in all its resplendent aggression. Though starting out with an emphasis on the violent part, moods and melodies take shape as Nidus unfurls. “Primordial Sludge” has a main refrain lashed forward at a marching pace, pushed by Sebastian Olsson’s ever-shifting drumming, drenched in reverb and power. On the opposite side of the coin, “Manifest Entropy” drips a haunting atmosphere, using the best elements of modern Decapitated to run from stuttery chord progressions to leads that reek of melancholy and disdain.

What sets Gravecrawler apart from the glut of Swedeath is their grasp of the spirit of the formula: meaner, bigger, and better. Key lynchpin Billy Lundevall is one of the major ingredients, with his vocals equally diseased, wet, and powerful. Striking a key balance between the gurgles of Pharmacist and Cattle Decapitation’s Travis Ryan, his voice is no cookie-cutter death growl, elevating the music to new heights of disgust and energy. Look no further than “Primordial Sludge” to hear him oscillate between his two greatest extremes, flinging vocal narrations which shift between screeching crackhead goblin energy and vomit-spewing belches. Compositionally, guitarist and bassist Jesper and Roni pull from multiple influences, flirting with whiffs of Dark Tranquility melody (“Bogs of Torvus”), straightforward Vader curb-stomping thuggery (“Contagion”), and even foul slam experiments in “Carrion Soil.” Nidus is a refreshing album where every track comes with a highlight of riff or air-guitar moment, all the way down to the requisite grand finale of the concluding track “Nothingness Awaits.” In fact, this is the only real complaint I can muster; the final two tracks put so much stock into their well-composed atmospheres that they somewhat undo the memory of all the arterial blood spray that came before, though they’re both quality songs unto themselves.

And the sound? Saints alive, the sound. Gravecrawler got it right on their first try, with the entirety of Nidus being open and spacious, even on my streamed listen. The bass is a constant presence, mixed and produced with the care and affection of Cryptopsy, with enough tonal presence to make William Murderface weep with jealousy. Drums echo and thunk with extreme prejudice, and the guitars don’t put so much emphasis on the traditional tones that they come across as isolated and thin (looking at you, Frozen Soul), instead sounding dummy thiccc and full throughout the album. This mastery of care for the overall package renders Nidus at once an exemplary example of the genre without doing much to try to get outside of its constraints, with fantastic results.

In the year of our Lord 2026, it might seem absurd to insist that “just another Swedeath album” is glorious, but it is, I am, and I’m not apologizing. Gravecrawler has offered up a debut which has captivated and engaged me, while constantly sending me away with broken teeth and covered in beer and bodily fluids. A keen ear for production and songwriting, beguiled by their youth, has announced these Swedes as a force to be reckoned with, and with some fine-tuning, they will be ready to catapult themselves alongside the Gatecreeper’s and LIK’s. Check this out.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: n/a | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Independent Release
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases worldwide: August 7th, 2026

Unfortunately for this review, I have not been ravaged by the Yeti before. But if it’s anything like what happens when you make one too many White Wizzard jokes around Steel Druhm, then it must be a ruthless and altogether ungraceful experience. If so, then Sweden’s Ravaged by the Yeti do the experience justice. Yet another project of guitarist/vocalist Rogga Johansson (Paganizer, Ribspreader, among many, many others), Ravaged by the Yeti first unleashed their Yeti-themed grind-infused death metal on 2023’s Apex Predator. In 2026, they return with a fresh lineup of Johansson, bassist Mike Borders (ex-Massacre), and drummer Jon Rudin (Monstrous). Snowbound Horror promises savagery, plain and simple. Can Ravaged by the Yeti’s simulacrum of their namesake act prove as memorable as the real deal?

Ravaged by the Yeti do one thing on Snowbound Horror, and that’s spill guts out over the snow. Not their guts, mind you; there’s nothing confessional about this. Through Johansson’s gore-slathered growls, Ravaged by the Yeti treat their listeners to one blood-soaked scene to the next. Himalayan explorers are ripped to pieces (“By the Hand of the Beast”), reduced to slurry (“Human Spoil”), and stuffed in the Abominable Snowman’s freezer (“Frozen Stiff”) before all’s said and done on Snowbound Horror. These savage snippets are captured through Ravaged by the Yeti’s commitment to icy, no-frills death metal. Songs like “Vengeance in Fur” and “Death by Icicle” flex big riffs and punchy kicks while never letting up on the bludgeonings. If you only want a heaping helping of violence out of your death metal, or if Frozen Soul’s latest has you hankering for more cold, Ravaged by the Yeti have you covered with Snowbound Horror.

Snowbound Horror lives off meat-headed riffcraft. Raiding Bolt Thrower’s arsenal of heavy groove ordnance, songs like “As Fangs Go Deep,” “Beast Prey,” and “Snowbound Horror” bash and rumble with bestial, straightforward aggression. Apex Predator’s grind influence largely takes a backseat to this death-groove on Snowbound Horror, but songs like “By the Hand of the Beast” and “Tusk of the Yeti” maintain grind’s speed and serrated assault. It helps that Ravaged by the Yeti sport drums with adequate thump and snap to them, a surprisingly dynamic mix, and a guitar tone thick and wet as carrion. Between the riffs and growls, rudimentary guitar leads spring up from time to time (“Human Spoil,” “They Came through the Cold”) along with the occasional slick drum fill (“Tusk of the Yeti”). By now, Johansson can probably write respectable death riffs in his sleep, and Ravaged by the Yeti doesn’t disappoint in this regard.

What does disappoint about Snowbound Horror, however, is its one-note quality. Obviously, Ravaged by the Yeti’s explicit theming limits their creative scope, but Snowbound Horror utilizes too few basic riff shapes and compositions to stay fresh. “Beast Prey” opens with a riff far too similar to the preceding “As Fangs Go Deep”‘s opening riff, and the few solo-esque leads across Snowbound Horror all sit too closely on the same part of the neck. Only “They Came through the Cold” sticks out upon repeat listens, as Ravaged by the Yeti employ a smidge more melody and storytelling focus on this particular tale of terror. For the most part, what could be said about any one song on Snowbound Horror could be just as applicable to any other song. What Ravaged by the Yeti do is fun, but with a very limited set of tools stretched across thirty-five minutes, Snowbound Horror’s grizzly cheek runs cold by the time “Land of Ice and Snow” closes out.

Ravaged by the Yeti’s Snowbound Horror is more enjoyable than an actual ravaging by the Yeti, but not quite as memorable. It’s a lot more fun than the rating below might suggest, but it would be dishonest of me to say it hasn’t run thin after several listens. If you value gore and grit above all in your death metal, Ravaged by the Yeti might be your picnic. But as a whole artistic package, Snowbound Horror goes by in a blur, hitting hard during its time but leaving little impact in its wake. When I get mangled and masticated by a cryptid, that’s not the story I want to share afterwards.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Testimony Records
Websites: facebook.com/RavagedbytheYeti | ravagedbytheyeti.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: July 10th, 2026

Texan five-banger Frozen Soul crept into my promo pile back in 2021 with their glacially imposing Crypt of Ice. Unfortunately, I missed covering the improved follow-up Glacial Domination properly, relegating it to a Filter blurb instead. But that’s no excuse for Century Media to withhold No Place of Warmth from me when it was time. No matter, because Frozen Soul deserve a full-bodied tongue bath from this hot-blooded sponge, and I intend to give it with great relish.

The Frozen Soul formula carries over into No Place of Warmth, but evolves incrementally just as Glacial Domination did three years prior. As these homo glaciali continue their ascent into a full upright stance, their Bolt Thrower-meets-Sanguisugabogg-meets-Rotpit riff orgy enters a new realm of ferocity, carrying a murderous momentum and relentless grooves across a dick-skin-tight 35 minutes. Vocalist Chad Green puts down a vicious performance of caveman roars, rancid rasps, and infectious barks. Matt Dennard pounds the mammoth skins with a single-minded bludgeoning that oozes blood, pus, and attitude. Bassist Samantha Mobley, always rumbling beneath these well-tread tundras, anchors the affair in muscular heft and scalpel precision (though the unforgiving compression in the mix makes her great work difficult to make out in many listening environments). Most importantly, however, are guitarists Chris Bonner’s and Michael Munday’s unflappable riffs and infectious hooks. Familiar perhaps to a fault but nonetheless brutally effective, Frozen Soul’s guitar work crests a summit on No Place of Warmth, generating heaps of energy with minimal tooling and using it to slam skulls into each other with devastating impact.

What more could you ask for in a stripped-down, meat-and-potatoes death metal record? A better mix, sure, but not much else. “Invoke War (ft. Machine Head)” brings Bolt Thrower aggression, anvils, and icepicks to my cranium with cold prejudice, leaving me a drooling mess whose only joy in life demands MOAR RIFFS. Thankfully, the slamtastic “Absolute Zero,” “Dreadnought (ft. Sanguisugabogg),” and “Skinned by the Wind,” along with mid-paced stompers “Chaos Will Reign,” “DEATHWEAVER,” and “Frost Forged” shoot overdoses of riff-laced adrenaline directly into my veins, reducing me to animalistic mindlessness. As that progresses, the urge to zoom becomes a new inconvenience in daily life, but Frozen Soul prepared for that. Rippers “No Place of Warmth (ft. Gerard Way),” “Eyes of Despair,” “Ethereal Dreams,” and “Killin Time (Until It’s Time to Kill)” roar and rage through flesh and bone with sleazy grooves that fit right at home at any local bar brawl, giving my overflowing energy reserves an outlet through fist and boot.

You might notice a rare occurrence in the preceding paragraph: I highlighted every song on No Place of Warmth to extol their virtues. This was no accident, as every track has something memorable and engaging to take away, but No Place of Warmth isn’t perfect. As mentioned earlier, No Place of Warmth is crushed pretty heavily. Consequently, Samantha’s bass struggles for audibility—despite offering ample textural heft—behind chunky guitars and ferocious roars. With a little less compression and a few tweaks to instrumental positioning, her input would be heard more fully and thereby make even greater impact. Additionally, Matt Dennard’s bass kick feels a bit plastic, creating a bit of tactile unpleasantness during initial spins. In other areas, the album’s various guest spots don’t stand out as distinctly as a guest spot should. It took a few spins to nail down Machine Head’s contributions to “Invoke War,” especially, and Gerard Way’s unexpected blackened rasps deserve greater presence, too. I still can’t confidently pick out Sanguisugabogg in “Dreadnought,” though it is a killer tune. As a criticism, this mostly points to a thoughtfulness in features that Frozen Soul neglected, but that they might easily rectify with more intentional writing that gives those features more significance and definition going forward.

All told, No Place of Warmth is more than just rock-solid Bolt Thrower worship. It is a consistently entertaining record tailor-made to ensure gains in the gym, incite massive mosh pits in any given venue, and cause spinal trauma to any receptive passers-by. It’s nothing new, and nothing groundbreaking, but its tectonic grooves and boundless vitality crack the crust regardless. Should you be in need of more quality death metal this year—and we all know you can never have too much—No Place of Warmth is a worthy part of a balanced breakfast rotation.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Century Media Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

Ten long years passed since Grond released Worship the Kraken, a fun and meaty slab of Bolt Thrower-meets-Autopsy-meets-Lovecraft madness. With such a protracted lull in recording activity, I was sure there was never going to be another Grond record, but lo and behold, The Temple peeked above the horizon just enough for me to catch it on the approach. I quiver with anticipation to see what cosmic horrors await me there.

Grond is the same stomping monstrosity that left the world all those years ago, muscular and be-tentacled as ever. Their Bolt Thrower riffs and nasty bass tone still take center stage, ensuring that any listener’s face scrunches up in grotesque relief (“Weddigen,” “Submergence”). A Temple of Void-like doom/death shroud adorns The Temple in shadowed moods and ominous atmosphere, creating a vastness of scale and stature Worship the Kraken didn’t have (“U-29,” “Dreadnought”). Much like other modern old-school revival acts like Frozen Soul, simplicity is Grond’s best friend, choosing reliable parts and pieces of the death metal arsenal to ensure maximum impact in their songwriting. Thankfully, Grond’s high-fantasy horror theme, frightful guitar pyrotechnics in solos and flourishes (“Dreadnought”), and beefy production help set The Temple apart from contemporary examples of the style and make for a highly engaging 48 minutes.

At first, though, I wasn’t sure if The Temple justified its ten-year incubation period. It’s their slowest, their longest, and arguably their simplest record in terms of structure. I wondered if this meant it offered less substance or weaker engagement. I was wrong. Without sacrificing heft or extremity, Grond doubled down on accessibility and groove to make The Temple their most easily digestible outing thus far (“Pour le Merite,” “Radiant Fury”), but they made considerable effort using accessibility to their advantage. In place of compositional complexity, odd time signatures, or speed, wild lead guitar exhibitionism, gut-punching bass burbles, and clever drum fills abound. This trade, in turn, makes even the most straightforward cuts exciting and distinctive (“The Temple”). Furthermore, revisits uncover even more nifty details and entertaining embellishments—again sourced primarily from the guitar work—that bring depth and charm to The Temple for which initial impressions don’t account.

The Temple boasts many traits and nuances that not only make it a joy to return to, but also help shrink its inflated runtime, yet some areas could still use a trim. At a bloated six-and-a-half minutes, the title track only barely justifies its length with the strength of its guitar work, but would be stronger still with a full minute or so hacked off the first half for brevity. In fact, most of The Temple’s nine tracks toy with that ambitious six-minute barrier. While a vast majority of them don’t feel nearly that long, they all have at least one small grouping of measures that, if culled, wouldn’t detract from the compositions to which they belong (“Weddigen,” “Dark Solitude of the Sea,” “U-29”). Additionally, instrumental intro “Rotter Himmel” adds very little to the whole except to tumble right into the opener proper. At three minutes, it begs either to be nipped, tucked, and integrated into “Weddigen,” or to be cut altogether.

Aside from a spot of bloat, there’s a lot to enjoy in The Temple. It’s a rare kind of classically informed, doom-tinged, mid-paced death metal that grows with every spin. Grond achieved that grower status with their third LP, and it was worth the ten-year wait. It might not be a groundbreaking album, but competes well in its field and pairs very nicely with other Lovecraft-inspired death metal from the likes of Sulphur Aeon or Corpsessed. So if that’s your bag, Grond’s your monster. Choose your vessel, and enter the gate The Temple!

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: ~260 kbps VBR mp3
Label: XTreem Music
Websites: grond.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/grondrus
Releases Worldwide: April 30th, 2026

Lustiges Lineup in Jena gestern Abend. 
#FrozenSoul #theblackdahliamurder #TheHaloEffect #HeavenShallBurn 
Stilistisch breit gestreut… Ich war hauptsächlich wegen HSB dabei, TBDM und Halo Effect begeistern mich nicht so. 

Location: #Sparkassenarena, sonst auch für Sport genutzt, 3000 Plätze, ausverkauft. 

Frozen Soul als Opener haben echt Stimmung gemacht, obwohl oder vielleicht auch weil der Saal nicht mal halb voll war. Eine gute Mischung aus Old School Todesmetall und einigen Hardcore- und Doomelementen. Es gab ein immer wieder gut bevölkertes Moshpit und eine herzliche Message für Mental Health. 

New post: Gig Review: Heaven Shall Burn / The Black Dahlia Murder / Frozen Soul – The Garage, Glasgow (22nd February 2026) https://moshville.co.uk/reviews/gig-review/2026/02/gig-review-heaven-shall-burn-the-black-dahlia-murder-frozen-soul-the-garage-glasgow-22nd-february-2026/ #FrozenSoul #HeavenShallBurn #TheBlackDahliaMurder

New post: Gig Review: Sylosis / Heaven Shall Burn / The Black Dahlia Murder / Revocation / Frozen Soul / Distant / Life Cycles – O2 Forum Kentish Town, London (20th February 2026) https://moshville.co.uk/reviews/gig-review/2026/02/gig-review-sylosis-heaven-shall-burn-the-black-dahlia-murder-revocation-frozen-soul-distant-life-cycles-o2-forum-kentish-town-london-20th-february-2026/ #Distant #FrozenSoul #HeavenShallBurn #LifeCycles