#funeral-doom — Public Fediverse posts

MONOVOTH – To Live In the Breath of Worship

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bf9giqfQz_E

Obwohl offiziell nach wie vor als Soloprojekt des argentinischen Multiinstrumentalisten Lucas Wyssbrod geführt, sind Monovoth auf „To Live In The Breath Of Worship“ faktisch zumindest ein Duo, hat Drummer Martin Visconti doch einen kongenialen Anteil am Gelingen dieses Albums. Desweiteren reichen diverse Gastgitarristen einander die Axt,…

Bewährter Dreh- und Angelpunkt von Wyssbrods Musik bleibt zerschmetternde Todtraurigkeit, ausgedrückt im Wechselspiel großartiger Riffs so schwer wie zwei Meter frischer Erde über deinem Sarg und Leadgitarrenmeldodien von elementarer sakraler Schönheit. – https://derohlsen.blogspot.com/2026/08/monovoth-to-live-in-breath-of-worship.html

APHONIC THRENODY (Regne Unit) presenta nou àlbum: "Grace My Heart" #AphonicThrenody #FuneralDoom #DeathMetal #Agost2026 #RegneUnit #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Since the last Filter dropped, it still hasn’t stopped raining and storming in my neck of the woods. Consequently, my minions trudge evermore through the thin sheet metal of our ducts as the thunder rattles everything like so many dice in a tabletop nerd’s clutches.1 Yet I must press them and push them, for we have quotas to meet and ravenous appetites to sate.

So it is with shaky hands and discombobulated craniums that my grunts hand over the goods. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Thrashed Thrall

Ascended Master // Crepuscular Gloom [May 8th, 2026 – Self Released]

Death thrash is best thrash, if you ask this sponge. Something about this unholy combo really rustles my jimmies, especially when its executed with great speed and riff-centered fervor. Cincinnati’s Ascended Master nail that combination right into the grave, boasting a sound that’s three parts Death, one part Atheist, and a pinch of Blood Red Throne. With a sense of groove that gives barnburners “Blood Spilled Upon the Stars,” “Crepuscular Gloom,” and rabid closer “Xenopaleontology” a deadly swagger liable to cause fierce whiplash in all who would headbang to it, debut LP Crepuscular Gloom” is a record pumped full of testosterone and adrenaline. Speedy rippers like “Midnight Mother” and “Ghoul Queen” put the pedal to the metal with a ferocity more commonly associated with Kvaen or Hellripper in the modern pantheon, but the record’s natural engineering and coherent screams hark to earlier times where Death reigned supreme in the scene. However, it would be inaccurate to call it pure worship. Ascended Master have an intense personality and a particular ferocity that allows Crepuscular Gloom to integrate smoothly into their respective category without blending into the crowd. As their career develops from this point, I expect we’ll see their identity bloom and rise with greater distinction, further setting them apart and threatening year-end lists all around. Just wait, you’ll see!

ClarkKent’s Prehistoric Pulls

Ilienses Tree // Toward the Storm [May 1st, 2026 – Meuse Music Records]

Ilienses Tree sow their roots deep into the island the band originates from—Sardinia, just off the coast of Italy. Their name, Ilienses, refers to an ancient Nuragic civilization that, during the Bronze Age, built impressive stone tower structures that still stand today. While the band isn’t nearly so old, their second album, Toward the Storm, dabbles in the sort of slow, deliberate doom that speaks of the patience of those ancient ruins. They lean towards a style of funeral doom that has the brutal power of My Dying Bride, but their record also contains the unpredictable dynamic drumming of Oromet and sneaks into speedier death/doom territory akin to Paradise Lost and Novembers Doom. Ilienses Tree have a mastery over melancholic lead riffs, such as the one that opens “To Not Be Forgotten.” “Sudden Rain” flexes the band’s creative muscle most impressively. Beginning in a slow burn and anchored by a poignant guitar lead, the song has a sudden burst of energy, turns in a lovely duet between arpeggiated riffs and bass, and features several more memorable and distinct guitar leads. Though the songs average nine minutes, they fit neatly into a 38-minute record, and thanks to progressive structures, they never feel overlong. If you’d like some music that simultaneously hits you in the feels and provides a shot of adrenaline, then go towards, not away from, this storm.

Anna Fiori // Metztli [May 21st, 2026 – Self Released]

Sometimes symphonic metal bands grow a touch stale from a failure to innovate, relying too heavily on the gimmick of symphonic instruments. Anna Fiori, however, has created something pretty special, with a Mexican/Aztec twist on the genre. Her band mixes “pre-Hispanic instrumentation” with cinematic symphonics and heavy guitars to create thrilling high-energy music. While some songs hit a more poppy Beyond the Black mold (“En El Vacio”), others take a longer-form route. The nine-minute “Luna Llena (Xiki Noeso)” blends indigenous chants and flutes with orchestral elements that sometimes sound like an exciting score to a whimsical adventure film. The highlight, “Luna Menguante (Nimotemak),” contains a mix of cool riffs, flutes, and blast beats before taking us on a bonkers ride involving operatic singing, off-kilter pianos, a few solos, and perhaps the summoning of a demon or two. While the song compositions are tons of fun, Fiori’s performance ties it all together. She sings in the sweet poppy manner of Epica’s Simone Simons, the operatic style of many a Therion singer, and even some growls in the spirit of Seven Spires’s Adrienne Cowen, if not quite her power. Fiori even briefly raps on a couple of tracks, with a pretty impressive section on the outro track, “Tetzahuitl, Pt. 2: El Origen,” and goes off-script with an infectious laugh on “Entre Mil Voces.” Clearly she’s having a lot of fun. Metztli hits some of the familiar symphonic notes while injecting enough personality of its own to make for an entertaining, and sometimes wild, ride.

Grin Reaper’s Spring Fling

Beyond the Veil // Oblivion [May 1st, 2026 – Wormholedeath Records]

There’s little online information about Tokyo prog metallers Beyond the Veil,2 and while I don’t recall how I stumbled across debut Oblivion, I’m glad I did. Upon listening, I was immediately enamored by their familiar yet enchanting blend of drama and technicality. Fans of Opeth and Dream Theater will uncover a trove of unapologetic prog where Beyond the Veil weaves gorgeously conceived instrumentation into intricate compositions. Oblivion also embraces long-form arrangements, sporting six tracks ranging between seven-and-a-half and sixteen minutes each. Credit to Beyond the Veil, though, because even with such robust runtimes totaling over an hour, Oblivion never feels repetitive or bankrupt of ideas. Quite the opposite, in fact, as each listen reveals new knots to untangle and coils to unwind. Perhaps the facet I’ve come to appreciate the most as I revisit Oblivion is Beyond the Veil’s merger of piano, mellotron, and orchestrations with guitar, bass, and drums. They’re hardly the first band to do this, but each song sounds well-attuned to incorporating the right instrument for the right part rather than spotlighting heavy-handed wankery, allowing Oblivion to soar. While Beyond the Veil doesn’t break the mold with this one, getting lost in Oblivion never sounded so sweet.

Lago // Vigil [May 8th, 2026 – Everlasting Spew Records]

Vigil introduced me to Lago and their infectiously abrasive death metal, and this album is forty-two minutes of unhinged brutality flecked with melody. The blood of Immolation, Morbid Angel, and Incantation pumps through Lago’s veins, delivering unapologetic tangles of dissonant, jangling guitars, fuming blast beats, and murky bass runs beneath Cole Jacobsen’s devilishly demented gutturals. Lago’s brew is potent stuff, swirling and churning with caustic acid that will leave your eardrums scarred and cowed with nary a moment wasted. Complimenting the devastating filth Lago dredges is Gus Barr’s warbling lead guitar, which cuts through the grime with off-kilter shredding. “Behold, Ruin” and “Initiation Rite” hit with the immediacy and aplomb of Immolation, lurching onwards with Brian Miller’s timekeeping straight out of Close to a World Below’s playbook. Meanwhile, “Procession into Slaughter” and “The Land Was a Desert” launch into Azagthoth-tinged, otherworldly riffs. Everything about Lago screams danger, yet once the blood starts flowing it’s impossible to turn away from their murderously addictive violence. Once Vigil has its hooks in you, you won’t want them to Lago.

Redshift // Down the Wire [May 29th, 2026 – Pale Wizard Records]

As a massive Rush fan, Redshift’s Down the Wire immediately caught my attention with ample parallels. A power trio wielding buttery smooth bass lines, Lifeson-leaning chords, and Tiago Martins’ tender tenor call to mind Canada’s greatest export for all the right reasons. Yet Bath, England’s Redshift is more than a Rush clone, and on Down the Wire they bounce and whip in syncopated flurries and chromatic runs while dabbling with vocoded vocals and deathly roars. As the best prog does, Redshift explores vast territory in a commensurately brief runtime. Opener “The Routine” hits the Rush influence hard and early, but “The Clown” draws upon Synchestra-era Devin Townsend kookiness while “The Rogue” dabbles in Yesified eclecticism and even features guest keys from Derek Sherinian (ex-Dream Theater, ex-Yngwie Malmsteen). One thing Redshift steers away from is the self-seriousness associated with a lot of prog, and Down the Wire radiates a pervasive sense of fun. Trumpets and samba-coded melodies enliven “The Rogue” while “The Singer” assaults with fierce growls, wicked solos, and perfectly balanced instrumental interplay. Down the Wire fires on all cylinders, scorching with progressive songwriting and so much replayability that I regret not getting the chance to write a review in full. If you’re Down to the Wire and need a prog fix quickly, Redshift is a clever choice that won’t disappoint.

Spicie Forrest’s Nostalgic Nugget

Haste the Day // Dissenter [May 1st, 2026 – Solid State Records]

I haven’t heard the name Haste the Day since 2008. At the time, I was on the tail end of my metalcore phase and pushing into heavier styles, so while I recognized their quality, I didn’t latch on to them as I did other acts of their ilk. It’s a shame, because Dissenter is the sound of my adolescence. Slinging the same emo-flavored metalcore as early As I Lay Dying and August Burns Red, the Indianapolis-based six-piece offers 39 minutes of beautifully aching nostalgia. Stephen Keech’s lead vocals sound pushed and strained (complimentary), evoking the emotion of early Linkin Park (“Shallows,” “Grave”). Guitarists Scott Whelan, Brennan Chaulk, and Dave Krysl are so in sync, delivering stellar layered riffs and leads felt in the soul (“Burn”). When Michael Murphy’s bass comes to the fore, as on “Liminal,” he brings a heaviness and intensity that hurtles me back to middle school like it was just yesterday. Dissenter is a bit heavier and faster on the front end, but even the not-quite-overwrought power ballads of the back half maintain their drive and pacing thanks to Giuseppe Capolupo’s kit work (“Adrift,” “Escape”). For those of us who cut our teeth on acts like Haste the Day, late-career and comeback albums can be an anxious affair, but I’m happy to report that Dissenter is a worthy walk down memory lane.

Since the last Filter dropped, it still hasn’t stopped raining and storming in my neck of the woods. Consequently, my minions trudge evermore through the thin sheet metal of our ducts as the thunder rattles everything like so many dice in a tabletop nerd’s clutches.1 Yet I must press them and push them, for we have quotas to meet and ravenous appetites to sate.

So it is with shaky hands and discombobulated craniums that my grunts hand over the goods. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Thrashed Thrall

Ascended Master // Crepuscular Gloom [May 8th, 2026 – Self Released]

Death thrash is best thrash, if you ask this sponge. Something about this unholy combo really rustles my jimmies, especially when its executed with great speed and riff-centered fervor. Cincinnati’s Ascended Master nail that combination right into the grave, boasting a sound that’s three parts Death, one part Atheist, and a pinch of Blood Red Throne. With a sense of groove that gives barnburners “Blood Spilled Upon the Stars,” “Crepuscular Gloom,” and rabid closer “Xenopaleontology” a deadly swagger liable to cause fierce whiplash in all who would headbang to it, debut LP Crepuscular Gloom” is a record pumped full of testosterone and adrenaline. Speedy rippers like “Midnight Mother” and “Ghoul Queen” put the pedal to the metal with a ferocity more commonly associated with Kvaen or Hellripper in the modern pantheon, but the record’s natural engineering and coherent screams hark to earlier times where Death reigned supreme in the scene. However, it would be inaccurate to call it pure worship. Ascended Master have an intense personality and a particular ferocity that allows Crepuscular Gloom to integrate smoothly into their respective category without blending into the crowd. As their career develops from this point, I expect we’ll see their identity bloom and rise with greater distinction, further setting them apart and threatening year-end lists all around. Just wait, you’ll see!

ClarkKent’s Prehistoric Pulls

Ilienses Tree // Toward the Storm [May 1st, 2026 – Meuse Music Records]

Ilienses Tree sow their roots deep into the island the band originates from—Sardinia, just off the coast of Italy. Their name, Ilienses, refers to an ancient Nuragic civilization that, during the Bronze Age, built impressive stone tower structures that still stand today. While the band isn’t nearly so old, their second album, Toward the Storm, dabbles in the sort of slow, deliberate doom that speaks of the patience of those ancient ruins. They lean towards a style of funeral doom that has the brutal power of My Dying Bride, but their record also contains the unpredictable dynamic drumming of Oromet and sneaks into speedier death/doom territory akin to Paradise Lost and Novembers Doom. Ilienses Tree have a mastery over melancholic lead riffs, such as the one that opens “To Not Be Forgotten.” “Sudden Rain” flexes the band’s creative muscle most impressively. Beginning in a slow burn and anchored by a poignant guitar lead, the song has a sudden burst of energy, turns in a lovely duet between arpeggiated riffs and bass, and features several more memorable and distinct guitar leads. Though the songs average nine minutes, they fit neatly into a 38-minute record, and thanks to progressive structures, they never feel overlong. If you’d like some music that simultaneously hits you in the feels and provides a shot of adrenaline, then go towards, not away from, this storm.

Anna Fiori // Metztli [May 21st, 2026 – Self Released]

Sometimes symphonic metal bands grow a touch stale from a failure to innovate, relying too heavily on the gimmick of symphonic instruments. Anna Fiori, however, has created something pretty special, with a Mexican/Aztec twist on the genre. Her band mixes “pre-Hispanic instrumentation” with cinematic symphonics and heavy guitars to create thrilling high-energy music. While some songs hit a more poppy Beyond the Black mold (“En El Vacio”), others take a longer-form route. The nine-minute “Luna Llena (Xiki Noeso)” blends indigenous chants and flutes with orchestral elements that sometimes sound like an exciting score to a whimsical adventure film. The highlight, “Luna Menguante (Nimotemak),” contains a mix of cool riffs, flutes, and blast beats before taking us on a bonkers ride involving operatic singing, off-kilter pianos, a few solos, and perhaps the summoning of a demon or two. While the song compositions are tons of fun, Fiori’s performance ties it all together. She sings in the sweet poppy manner of Epica’s Simone Simons, the operatic style of many a Therion singer, and even some growls in the spirit of Seven Spires’s Adrienne Cowen, if not quite her power. Fiori even briefly raps on a couple of tracks, with a pretty impressive section on the outro track, “Tetzahuitl, Pt. 2: El Origen,” and goes off-script with an infectious laugh on “Entre Mil Voces.” Clearly she’s having a lot of fun. Metztli hits some of the familiar symphonic notes while injecting enough personality of its own to make for an entertaining, and sometimes wild, ride.

Grin Reaper’s Spring Fling

Beyond the Veil // Oblivion [May 1st, 2026 – Wormholedeath Records]

There’s little online information about Tokyo prog metallers Beyond the Veil,2 and while I don’t recall how I stumbled across debut Oblivion, I’m glad I did. Upon listening, I was immediately enamored by their familiar yet enchanting blend of drama and technicality. Fans of Opeth and Dream Theater will uncover a trove of unapologetic prog where Beyond the Veil weaves gorgeously conceived instrumentation into intricate compositions. Oblivion also embraces long-form arrangements, sporting six tracks ranging between seven-and-a-half and sixteen minutes each. Credit to Beyond the Veil, though, because even with such robust runtimes totaling over an hour, Oblivion never feels repetitive or bankrupt of ideas. Quite the opposite, in fact, as each listen reveals new knots to untangle and coils to unwind. Perhaps the facet I’ve come to appreciate the most as I revisit Oblivion is Beyond the Veil’s merger of piano, mellotron, and orchestrations with guitar, bass, and drums. They’re hardly the first band to do this, but each song sounds well-attuned to incorporating the right instrument for the right part rather than spotlighting heavy-handed wankery, allowing Oblivion to soar. While Beyond the Veil doesn’t break the mold with this one, getting lost in Oblivion never sounded so sweet.

Lago // Vigil [May 8th, 2026 – Everlasting Spew Records]

Vigil introduced me to Lago and their infectiously abrasive death metal, and this album is forty-two minutes of unhinged brutality flecked with melody. The blood of Immolation, Morbid Angel, and Incantation pumps through Lago’s veins, delivering unapologetic tangles of dissonant, jangling guitars, fuming blast beats, and murky bass runs beneath Cole Jacobsen’s devilishly demented gutturals. Lago’s brew is potent stuff, swirling and churning with caustic acid that will leave your eardrums scarred and cowed with nary a moment wasted. Complimenting the devastating filth Lago dredges is Gus Barr’s warbling lead guitar, which cuts through the grime with off-kilter shredding. “Behold, Ruin” and “Initiation Rite” hit with the immediacy and aplomb of Immolation, lurching onwards with Brian Miller’s timekeeping straight out of Close to a World Below’s playbook. Meanwhile, “Procession into Slaughter” and “The Land Was a Desert” launch into Azagthoth-tinged, otherworldly riffs. Everything about Lago screams danger, yet once the blood starts flowing it’s impossible to turn away from their murderously addictive violence. Once Vigil has its hooks in you, you won’t want them to Lago.

Redshift // Down the Wire [May 29th, 2026 – Pale Wizard Records]

As a massive Rush fan, Redshift’s Down the Wire immediately caught my attention with ample parallels. A power trio wielding buttery smooth bass lines, Lifeson-leaning chords, and Tiago Martins’ tender tenor call to mind Canada’s greatest export for all the right reasons. Yet Bath, England’s Redshift is more than a Rush clone, and on Down the Wire they bounce and whip in syncopated flurries and chromatic runs while dabbling with vocoded vocals and deathly roars. As the best prog does, Redshift explores vast territory in a commensurately brief runtime. Opener “The Routine” hits the Rush influence hard and early, but “The Clown” draws upon Synchestra-era Devin Townsend kookiness while “The Rogue” dabbles in Yesified eclecticism and even features guest keys from Derek Sherinian (ex-Dream Theater, ex-Yngwie Malmsteen). One thing Redshift steers away from is the self-seriousness associated with a lot of prog, and Down the Wire radiates a pervasive sense of fun. Trumpets and samba-coded melodies enliven “The Rogue” while “The Singer” assaults with fierce growls, wicked solos, and perfectly balanced instrumental interplay. Down the Wire fires on all cylinders, scorching with progressive songwriting and so much replayability that I regret not getting the chance to write a review in full. If you’re Down to the Wire and need a prog fix quickly, Redshift is a clever choice that won’t disappoint.

Spicie Forrest’s Nostalgic Nugget

Haste the Day // Dissenter [May 1st, 2026 – Solid State Records]

I haven’t heard the name Haste the Day since 2008. At the time, I was on the tail end of my metalcore phase and pushing into heavier styles, so while I recognized their quality, I didn’t latch on to them as I did other acts of their ilk. It’s a shame, because Dissenter is the sound of my adolescence. Slinging the same emo-flavored metalcore as early As I Lay Dying and August Burns Red, the Indianapolis-based six-piece offers 39 minutes of beautifully aching nostalgia. Stephen Keech’s lead vocals sound pushed and strained (complimentary), evoking the emotion of early Linkin Park (“Shallows,” “Grave”). Guitarists Scott Whelan, Brennan Chaulk, and Dave Krysl are so in sync, delivering stellar layered riffs and leads felt in the soul (“Burn”). When Michael Murphy’s bass comes to the fore, as on “Liminal,” he brings a heaviness and intensity that hurtles me back to middle school like it was just yesterday. Dissenter is a bit heavier and faster on the front end, but even the not-quite-overwrought power ballads of the back half maintain their drive and pacing thanks to Giuseppe Capolupo’s kit work (“Adrift,” “Escape”). For those of us who cut our teeth on acts like Haste the Day, late-career and comeback albums can be an anxious affair, but I’m happy to report that Dissenter is a worthy walk down memory lane.

Free download codes:

Monolithic Aeons - Monolithic Aeons

"Slow heavy drone doom"

https://getmusic.fm/l/46TN8G

#darkambient #drone #industrial #doommetal #dronedoom #funeraldoom #music

Free download codes:

Monolithic Aeons - Monolithic Aeons

"Slow heavy drone doom"

https://getmusic.fm/l/46TN8G

#darkambient #drone #industrial #doommetal #dronedoom #funeraldoom #music

Rigor Sardonicous is a two-man funeral doom project from my neck of the woods of Long Island, New York, featuring members of Teloch Vovin and Abhorrence. Despite their lurking in the scene since 1999, I didn’t hear of them until Thus Spoke reviewed their seventh album, 2023s Praeparet Bellum. How could a band like this exist right under my nose for so long without me catching a whiff? Well, as Thus summed up in her review, they aren’t exactly tearing a hole in the metalverse with their lo-fi, quasi-industrial style of funerary music. The material on Praeparet Bellum was one-dimensional, plodding, and devoid of the necessary tricks and treats to keep such slogging doom interesting and, well, listenable. I hoped Diatriba Deorum would see the duo elevate their game, and in some ways, I suppose they have. But will it be enough to take them from deep, dark obscurity into the sunlight?

In a word, no. While Diatriba Deorum is a step up from last time and shows some improvement in pacing, atmosphere, and overall execution, this is still an inky grey slab of slow-motion doom without much in the way of engagement. Things do open quite strongly on “With God’s Love,” which is a slightly more aggressive creature for Rigor, rocking a pseudo-industrial, lo-fi hum that feels ominous and eerie. Subteranean vocals belch and burp over simple, plodding riffs and a programmed drum clicks and thumps in the background (I’ll refer to the drummer as “Clanger” henceforth). What helps is that the song is only 2 minutes, and if it was pushed much past that, things would go off the rails. “Death Cult” is a classic funeral-death-doom track with an unmistakably Sabbathian lead riff winding endlessly through a colorless glade of dead spruce as Clanger thrums along lifelessly and Joseph J. Fogarazzo roars quietly down somewhere in the mulch of the lo-fi mix. It’s got a certain dark, hypnotic mood that works well enough to let the 6-plus minutes slip by without testing your resolve too aggressively.

There are more tracks here, however, that are all too happy to test your resolve and attention. “I Am” is 8-plus minutes of ugly plodery with very little in the way of change-ups or tempo shifts. It’s an aural experience akin to being slowly chased down a long yellow corridor by Pirate Clark from Backrooms. It starts to feel overlong before the halfway point, and that’s a problem. By the end, even Clanger sounds tired and uninterested. “Commandment” is the album’s bright spot, with riffs evoking a strong Warning flavor as things stagger and shamble around the corpse yard unhurried. Closer “Actus Tragicus” also manages to rise slightly above the standard drudgery heard across Diatriba Deorum, offering enough melody to keep things mildly interesting over 9-plus minutes. The weird thing with Rigor’s music is that any song taken in isolation works as a standard funeral doom piece. It’s when the whole album bum-rushes you that you realize how one-note and monotonous their style and approach can be. At 44:36, Diatriba Deorum feels about a week longer, and it’s nearly impossible to focus intently throughout. That said, I’ve had it on in the background as I worked, and it was almost meditative and somewhat soothing. Go figure. The production is super raw, unprofessional, and soupy, but it does help convey a cold, soullessly industrialized aura. The guitars lack enough raw force to deliver meaningful impact, and the vocals feel like they were recorded under several layers of wet concrete. Other than that, good job!

Joseph J. Fogarazzo handles vocals and guitar. His death groans and grunts are appropriately wet, sticky, and hideous, booming away in the hidden caverns below like some eldritch abomination. His guitar work can best be described as minimalist and simplistic. He’s definitely an adherent to the less is MOAR school, offering rudimentary leads that barely change or morph over long run times. If he offered more (or some) decorative, forlorn harmonies over the leads, we would be getting somewhere, but he’s largely content to slowly riff away as time crawls and fingernails grow. Glenn Hampton’s bass work is there but does nothing to stand out. It’s like he doesn’t want to draw attention away from the threadbare riffs or inelegant drumbeats. Basically, there’s not a lot going on here, even for just two people and a machine.

Though better than Praeparet Bellum, Diatriba Deorum plays out like one long repetitive death march into nothingness. Aside from a few vague bright spots, this is a never-ending morass of bargain-basement funeral doom. I want to love it, but it refused to let me. Instead, I’ll use it as a relaxation tool when the need arises. Rigor Sardonicous are obscure as fook even in their own neighborhood, and now I know why.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: rigorsardonicous1.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/rigorsardonicous.official
Releases Worldwide: July 31st, 2026

Rigor Sardonicous is a two-man funeral doom project from my neck of the woods of Long Island, New York, featuring members of Teloch Vovin and Abhorrence. Despite their lurking in the scene since 1999, I didn’t hear of them until Thus Spoke reviewed their seventh album, 2023s Praeparet Bellum. How could a band like this exist right under my nose for so long without me catching a whiff? Well, as Thus summed up in her review, they aren’t exactly tearing a hole in the metalverse with their lo-fi, quasi-industrial style of funerary music. The material on Praeparet Bellum was one-dimensional, plodding, and devoid of the necessary tricks and treats to keep such slogging doom interesting and, well, listenable. I hoped Diatriba Deorum would see the duo elevate their game, and in some ways, I suppose they have. But will it be enough to take them from deep, dark obscurity into the sunlight?

In a word, no. While Diatriba Deorum is a step up from last time and shows some improvement in pacing, atmosphere, and overall execution, this is still an inky grey slab of slow-motion doom without much in the way of engagement. Things do open quite strongly on “With God’s Love,” which is a slightly more aggressive creature for Rigor, rocking a pseudo-industrial, lo-fi hum that feels ominous and eerie. Subteranean vocals belch and burp over simple, plodding riffs and a programmed drum clicks and thumps in the background (I’ll refer to the drummer as “Clanger” henceforth). What helps is that the song is only 2 minutes, and if it was pushed much past that, things would go off the rails. “Death Cult” is a classic funeral-death-doom track with an unmistakably Sabbathian lead riff winding endlessly through a colorless glade of dead spruce as Clanger thrums along lifelessly and Joseph J. Fogarazzo roars quietly down somewhere in the mulch of the lo-fi mix. It’s got a certain dark, hypnotic mood that works well enough to let the 6-plus minutes slip by without testing your resolve too aggressively.

There are more tracks here, however, that are all too happy to test your resolve and attention. “I Am” is 8-plus minutes of ugly plodery with very little in the way of change-ups or tempo shifts. It’s an aural experience akin to being slowly chased down a long yellow corridor by Pirate Clark from Backrooms. It starts to feel overlong before the halfway point, and that’s a problem. By the end, even Clanger sounds tired and uninterested. “Commandment” is the album’s bright spot, with riffs evoking a strong Warning flavor as things stagger and shamble around the corpse yard unhurried. Closer “Actus Tragicus” also manages to rise slightly above the standard drudgery heard across Diatriba Deorum, offering enough melody to keep things mildly interesting over 9-plus minutes. The weird thing with Rigor’s music is that any song taken in isolation works as a standard funeral doom piece. It’s when the whole album bum-rushes you that you realize how one-note and monotonous their style and approach can be. At 44:36, Diatriba Deorum feels about a week longer, and it’s nearly impossible to focus intently throughout. That said, I’ve had it on in the background as I worked, and it was almost meditative and somewhat soothing. Go figure. The production is super raw, unprofessional, and soupy, but it does help convey a cold, soullessly industrialized aura. The guitars lack enough raw force to deliver meaningful impact, and the vocals feel like they were recorded under several layers of wet concrete. Other than that, good job!

Joseph J. Fogarazzo handles vocals and guitar. His death groans and grunts are appropriately wet, sticky, and hideous, booming away in the hidden caverns below like some eldritch abomination. His guitar work can best be described as minimalist and simplistic. He’s definitely an adherent to the less is MOAR school, offering rudimentary leads that barely change or morph over long run times. If he offered more (or some) decorative, forlorn harmonies over the leads, we would be getting somewhere, but he’s largely content to slowly riff away as time crawls and fingernails grow. Glenn Hampton’s bass work is there but does nothing to stand out. It’s like he doesn’t want to draw attention away from the threadbare riffs or inelegant drumbeats. Basically, there’s not a lot going on here, even for just two people and a machine.

Though better than Praeparet Bellum, Diatriba Deorum plays out like one long repetitive death march into nothingness. Aside from a few vague bright spots, this is a never-ending morass of bargain-basement funeral doom. I want to love it, but it refused to let me. Instead, I’ll use it as a relaxation tool when the need arises. Rigor Sardonicous are obscure as fook even in their own neighborhood, and now I know why.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: rigorsardonicous1.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/rigorsardonicous.official
Releases Worldwide: July 31st, 2026

ARISE FROM THE PAST presenta nou recopilatori: "Endless Domain" #AriseFromThePast #FuneralDoom #DepressiveBlackMetal #Juliol2026 #NouRecopilatori #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

MU:D (Itàlia) presenta nou EP: "Madre terra" #Mu:d #FuneralDoom #BlackMetal #Juliol2026 #Itàlia #NouEp #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

In a time where one side-eyes many an image or video online for fear of its having been created with generative AI, it’s bemusing when an artist actively markets themselves as robotic. Calling themselves a “real-fiction metal band,” centering the project on the transmissions of powerful, hyper-intelligent cyborgs, and initially appearing to have zero discoverable human presence on the internet, Polish act Eutanor might have gone a little too far with the gimmick. They are, as it turns out, so extremely far underground that neither Metal Archives, nor Bandcamp, nor any streaming service will offer you their music.1 It was only once I started pasting Google-translated Polish into my search engine that I happened upon reviews and YouTube playlists of the band’s debut, Assembling Tomorrow. The mechanical concept explicitly informs the music’s sound—a self-described “funeral djent”—that every source emphasized being difficult to absorb. But is there more man or machine in Automatocrat?

Sources were not wrong: Automatocrat is no easy listening. Even the track titles are hard to process, being an ordinal series of numbers in rough magnitude of 1.7-1.85Bn. If funeral djent is intended to invoke a blend of syncopated, drop-tuned chugs and erratic rhythms with low, slow riffs and a morose vibe, then it’s somewhat apt since the prevailing pace is slow even as the structures are fickle. But Eutanor take cues from a spectrum of subgenres besides, leaning heavily at uneven intervals towards black metal (“1804068394”), sludge (“1731543705”), stoner (“1771078223”), electronica, brutal death, and grind (“1800748752”)2. Whilst the rhythms and guitar patterns fluctuate a little in turn, the vocals sit almost entirely in some liminal space between what would be appropriate for any of these styles: a gravelly, drawn-out kind of rasp. Really, the main thing Automatocrat shares with the funereal is reverb, and with djent an experimental approach to groove. “Experimental” is probably the best descriptor for the music in general, but while innovation and complexity can make for fantastic metal, in Eutanor’s case, “experimental” is a euphemism.3

Automatocrat is mechanical only in its obstinacy in sounding as bad as possible. Well, that and the computer-generated female voice that appears at some point on every song to read out the number that names it.4 The latter would be funny if the surrounding music weren’t steadily sapping your will to live through a combination of muddled movements, messy execution, and migraine-inducing mixing. At its least offensive, the music could be considered monotonous, with flattened tremolo picking (“1804068394”), trudging doom-death (“1731543705”) or stoner-coded (“1771078223”) riffs accompanied by a basic beat. Even here, you can’t escape from the vocals, croaking—and sometimes, horrifyingly shout-speaking (“1731543705,” “1804068394”)—that scrape the insides of your skull like a rusty spoon. The reverb, which spares no expense in muddying the vocals, guitars, and cymbals alike, mocks you (“1735064161,” “1771078223”, “1804068394”). When you think it can’t get worse, Eutanor put down their metronome for a token exploration so uncoordinated and lacking in imagination it would be generous to call it a jam. Random snippets of electronica are chucked about for all of a second (“1735064161,” “1800748752”), drums have intermittent fits of failed syncopation (“1713721976,” “1804068394”), and guitar lines materialise disconnectedly only to be choked by their mediocre riff peers and endless resonance (“1731543705,” “1771078223”), or simply feint away from development (“1846444894”).

But the hardest thing to digest about Automatocrat may not be its confusing nature or meaningless attempts at experimentation, but how awful it sounds in general. The production is so bad it actually made me angry, because it suggests that Eutanor simply didn’t put much effort in. Just like the lifeless chaos that defines the music’s composition, the relentless forward crush of everything—except of course, the parts that might actually be interesting—and the fuzzy muck smothering the rise of layered guitars while sharpening vocals beyond potency implies a lack of care. There are some good ideas—a cool riff here (“1731543705”), a piece of rhythmic weirdness that works there (“1800748752”)—but they need to be properly audible, and given the room and the treatment to shine. Yes, Eutanor are small and probably low-budget, but this album sounds worse than low-fi and only compounds the structural and aesthetic problems with the music itself.

After my time with Automatocrat, I still can’t decipher the artistic intent behind it, let alone the person or persons responsible. Too boring to earn the label of “avant-garde,” too ugly and messy to be enjoyable, and too bad to feel like a sincere statement, I struggle to see an audience who would appreciate it. The lack of personality and imagination in Euatnor’s grating pretences to music is fitting for inhuman machinery, but its sloppiness feels all too human.

Rating: Unlistenable
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Bandcamp | Official
Releases Worldwide: June 5th, 2026

In a time where one side-eyes many an image or video online for fear of its having been created with generative AI, it’s bemusing when an artist actively markets themselves as robotic. Calling themselves a “real-fiction metal band,” centering the project on the transmissions of powerful, hyper-intelligent cyborgs, and initially appearing to have zero discoverable human presence on the internet, Polish act Eutanor might have gone a little too far with the gimmick. They are, as it turns out, so extremely far underground that neither Metal Archives, nor Bandcamp, nor any streaming service will offer you their music.1 It was only once I started pasting Google-translated Polish into my search engine that I happened upon reviews and YouTube playlists of the band’s debut, Assembling Tomorrow. The mechanical concept explicitly informs the music’s sound—a self-described “funeral djent”—that every source emphasized being difficult to absorb. But is there more man or machine in Automatocrat?

Sources were not wrong: Automatocrat is no easy listening. Even the track titles are hard to process, being an ordinal series of numbers in rough magnitude of 1.7-1.85Bn. If funeral djent is intended to invoke a blend of syncopated, drop-tuned chugs and erratic rhythms with low, slow riffs and a morose vibe, then it’s somewhat apt since the prevailing pace is slow even as the structures are fickle. But Eutanor take cues from a spectrum of subgenres besides, leaning heavily at uneven intervals towards black metal (“1804068394”), sludge (“1731543705”), stoner (“1771078223”), electronica, brutal death, and grind (“1800748752”)2. Whilst the rhythms and guitar patterns fluctuate a little in turn, the vocals sit almost entirely in some liminal space between what would be appropriate for any of these styles: a gravelly, drawn-out kind of rasp. Really, the main thing Automatocrat shares with the funereal is reverb, and with djent an experimental approach to groove. “Experimental” is probably the best descriptor for the music in general, but while innovation and complexity can make for fantastic metal, in Eutanor’s case, “experimental” is a euphemism.3

Automatocrat is mechanical only in its obstinacy in sounding as bad as possible. Well, that and the computer-generated female voice that appears at some point on every song to read out the number that names it.4 The latter would be funny if the surrounding music weren’t steadily sapping your will to live through a combination of muddled movements, messy execution, and migraine-inducing mixing. At its least offensive, the music could be considered monotonous, with flattened tremolo picking (“1804068394”), trudging doom-death (“1731543705”) or stoner-coded (“1771078223”) riffs accompanied by a basic beat. Even here, you can’t escape from the vocals, croaking—and sometimes, horrifyingly shout-speaking (“1731543705,” “1804068394”)—that scrape the insides of your skull like a rusty spoon. The reverb, which spares no expense in muddying the vocals, guitars, and cymbals alike, mocks you (“1735064161,” “1771078223”, “1804068394”). When you think it can’t get worse, Eutanor put down their metronome for a token exploration so uncoordinated and lacking in imagination it would be generous to call it a jam. Random snippets of electronica are chucked about for all of a second (“1735064161,” “1800748752”), drums have intermittent fits of failed syncopation (“1713721976,” “1804068394”), and guitar lines materialise disconnectedly only to be choked by their mediocre riff peers and endless resonance (“1731543705,” “1771078223”), or simply feint away from development (“1846444894”).

But the hardest thing to digest about Automatocrat may not be its confusing nature or meaningless attempts at experimentation, but how awful it sounds in general. The production is so bad it actually made me angry, because it suggests that Eutanor simply didn’t put much effort in. Just like the lifeless chaos that defines the music’s composition, the relentless forward crush of everything—except of course, the parts that might actually be interesting—and the fuzzy muck smothering the rise of layered guitars while sharpening vocals beyond potency implies a lack of care. There are some good ideas—a cool riff here (“1731543705”), a piece of rhythmic weirdness that works there (“1800748752”)—but they need to be properly audible, and given the room and the treatment to shine. Yes, Eutanor are small and probably low-budget, but this album sounds worse than low-fi and only compounds the structural and aesthetic problems with the music itself.

After my time with Automatocrat, I still can’t decipher the artistic intent behind it, let alone the person or persons responsible. Too boring to earn the label of “avant-garde,” too ugly and messy to be enjoyable, and too bad to feel like a sincere statement, I struggle to see an audience who would appreciate it. The lack of personality and imagination in Euatnor’s grating pretences to music is fitting for inhuman machinery, but its sloppiness feels all too human.

Rating: Unlistenable
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Bandcamp | Official
Releases Worldwide: June 5th, 2026

Hab' gerade Ahab auf den Ohren. Ich bin immer wieder geplättet von der Qualität ihres Debutalbums!

#Ahab - Ahab's Oath

https://youtu.be/6dfxaGFBtsk

#Doom #DoomMetal #FuneralDoom @AHAB

Hab' gerade Ahab auf den Ohren. Ich bin immer wieder geplättet von der Qualität ihres Debutalbums!

#Ahab - Ahab's Oath

https://youtu.be/6dfxaGFBtsk

#Doom #DoomMetal #FuneralDoom @AHAB

KEXP bringing it again with Bell Witch performing Stygian Bough. Confusingly, they list the band as Stygian Bough.

#BellWitch #FuneralDoom

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtO2Cv_6eT8

KEXP bringing it again with Bell Witch performing Stygian Bough. Confusingly, they list the band as Stygian Bough.

#BellWitch #FuneralDoom

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtO2Cv_6eT8

Oh Hells Yeah!!!! KEXP just uploaded a Stygian Bough Live!!! #FuneralDoom

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtO2Cv_6eT8

Oh Hells Yeah!!!! KEXP just uploaded a Stygian Bough Live!!! #FuneralDoom

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtO2Cv_6eT8

Miguel Santos loves Edgar Allan Poe. He turned that love into a (sort of) one-man metal project called A Dream of Poe and uses a place called Tell-Tale Studios for mixing and mastering his records—Poe is clearly dear to his heart. The musical dream nearly crumbled, however, when a fire ravaged Santos’s home, destroying the music he’d written for his latest album—all but one song. This must have been devastating, yet from the ashes he resurrected the music and its tale about one character’s descent into the lowest of places: the underworld. Katabasis: A Marriage Among Ashes uses the symbolism of ashes as a parallel to Santos’s own personal tragedy in order to chronicle the agony of loss. The result is an album defined not by bleak darkness, but a sad beauty.

If you’re going to create a band inspired by Poe, there’s no genre more fitting than gothic doom mixed with the classical Romanticism of symphonic instruments. A Dream of Poe takes the form of My Dying Bride without its crushing brutality and the classicism of Tempestuous Fall without its opulence. Katabasis is a surprisingly tender and gentle piece of doom. The pianos and violins add a soft touch, and the guitars strum lovely melodies. The marriage of gentle and lightly brutal opens things on the poignant “The Wail of Gaea,” where the strings and pianos take turns setting a melancholic tone. “The Lament of Phaethon” begins with arpeggios and vocals that take on a folky Dolven vibe, and blaring horns late in the song tell of bad omens to come. Santos shows a knack for hooky choruses, particularly on the catchy “Lamia.” The hookiness returns on the finale, “À Medida de Damastes,” sung in what I assume is Santos’s native Portuguese. This tune kicks up the energy slightly, à la Paradise Lost, before descending into a chilling surge of terror that shatters the peace A Dream of Poe had previously maintained.

A Dream of Poe is technically a one-man project, yet Santos collaborates with a number of musicians who help shape Katabasis. Two of these collaborators split the bulk of the singing duties. Kaivan Saraei handles the first four tracks, with a voice that carries a gothic calm, evoking Dolven’s Jori Apedaile. João Melo, who closes the record out, has a more earthy tone that grows rawer when it increases in intensity. Santos himself contributes, briefly, with some growls that may be underpowered, but fit with the gentler nature of the album. Though Santos handles almost all instruments, other musicians aid in some small but important roles. Ruben Correia plays several guitar solos across Katabasis, providing some nice breaks from the gloom, notably on “Lamia” and “The Captivity of Hesperus.” Correia also plays violins on “The Lament of Phaethon” and “Lamia,” where he brings an organic and poignant touch to what are already terrific tunes. Regardless of who contributes, the musicians pour their hearts and souls into creating this emotionally striking work of art.

With funeral doom, lengthy slow burns are par for the course, yet writing a song that doesn’t overextend itself becomes a tricky balancing act. A majority of tracks on Katabasis fall in the seven-minute range and feel just right. The eleven-minute “Exhorting Nightmares” proves an exception. At seven minutes, it would have been fine, yet Santos keeps it going and even tacks on an ill-advised spoken word section towards the end. On the whole, Katabasis falls into a rather tight 45 minutes, so it’s only a minor complaint. The only other knock against the record is the lack of power behind the guitars and growls. A Dream of Poe is not aiming for the sort of power that My Dying Bride consistently delivers, but a little extra oomph here and there would have made a greater emotional impact.

It would have been so easy to give up in the midst of the loss Santos suffered. Yet he forged ahead and revived his lost music. While Katabasis presents a descent into a bleak place, there is something triumphant in the finished product. Santos, it seems, found himself at the edge of the pit, the imp within contemplating the fall, before the pendulum swung back and pulled him from the brink. He heard the beat of the Tell-Tale Studios and found himself driven not by madness, but by a desire to create his music and leave an indelible mark on the world of heavy metal.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Miguel Santos loves Edgar Allan Poe. He turned that love into a (sort of) one-man metal project called A Dream of Poe and uses a place called Tell-Tale Studios for mixing and mastering his records—Poe is clearly dear to his heart. The musical dream nearly crumbled, however, when a fire ravaged Santos’s home, destroying the music he’d written for his latest album—all but one song. This must have been devastating, yet from the ashes he resurrected the music and its tale about one character’s descent into the lowest of places: the underworld. Katabasis: A Marriage Among Ashes uses the symbolism of ashes as a parallel to Santos’s own personal tragedy in order to chronicle the agony of loss. The result is an album defined not by bleak darkness, but a sad beauty.

If you’re going to create a band inspired by Poe, there’s no genre more fitting than gothic doom mixed with the classical Romanticism of symphonic instruments. A Dream of Poe takes the form of My Dying Bride without its crushing brutality and the classicism of Tempestuous Fall without its opulence. Katabasis is a surprisingly tender and gentle piece of doom. The pianos and violins add a soft touch, and the guitars strum lovely melodies. The marriage of gentle and lightly brutal opens things on the poignant “The Wail of Gaea,” where the strings and pianos take turns setting a melancholic tone. “The Lament of Phaethon” begins with arpeggios and vocals that take on a folky Dolven vibe, and blaring horns late in the song tell of bad omens to come. Santos shows a knack for hooky choruses, particularly on the catchy “Lamia.” The hookiness returns on the finale, “À Medida de Damastes,” sung in what I assume is Santos’s native Portuguese. This tune kicks up the energy slightly, à la Paradise Lost, before descending into a chilling surge of terror that shatters the peace A Dream of Poe had previously maintained.

A Dream of Poe is technically a one-man project, yet Santos collaborates with a number of musicians who help shape Katabasis. Two of these collaborators split the bulk of the singing duties. Kaivan Saraei handles the first four tracks, with a voice that carries a gothic calm, evoking Dolven’s Jori Apedaile. João Melo, who closes the record out, has a more earthy tone that grows rawer when it increases in intensity. Santos himself contributes, briefly, with some growls that may be underpowered, but fit with the gentler nature of the album. Though Santos handles almost all instruments, other musicians aid in some small but important roles. Ruben Correia plays several guitar solos across Katabasis, providing some nice breaks from the gloom, notably on “Lamia” and “The Captivity of Hesperus.” Correia also plays violins on “The Lament of Phaethon” and “Lamia,” where he brings an organic and poignant touch to what are already terrific tunes. Regardless of who contributes, the musicians pour their hearts and souls into creating this emotionally striking work of art.

With funeral doom, lengthy slow burns are par for the course, yet writing a song that doesn’t overextend itself becomes a tricky balancing act. A majority of tracks on Katabasis fall in the seven-minute range and feel just right. The eleven-minute “Exhorting Nightmares” proves an exception. At seven minutes, it would have been fine, yet Santos keeps it going and even tacks on an ill-advised spoken word section towards the end. On the whole, Katabasis falls into a rather tight 45 minutes, so it’s only a minor complaint. The only other knock against the record is the lack of power behind the guitars and growls. A Dream of Poe is not aiming for the sort of power that My Dying Bride consistently delivers, but a little extra oomph here and there would have made a greater emotional impact.

It would have been so easy to give up in the midst of the loss Santos suffered. Yet he forged ahead and revived his lost music. While Katabasis presents a descent into a bleak place, there is something triumphant in the finished product. Santos, it seems, found himself at the edge of the pit, the imp within contemplating the fall, before the pendulum swung back and pulled him from the brink. He heard the beat of the Tell-Tale Studios and found himself driven not by madness, but by a desire to create his music and leave an indelible mark on the world of heavy metal.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

MASOKISTER (Estats Units) presenta nova demo: "Infinite Spiral to Depravity" #Masokister #FuneralDoom #SludgeMetal #Drone #Març2026 #EstatsUnits #NovaDemo #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

N.S.Y,R.A. (Brasil) presenta nou single: "Partindo em Silêncio" #NSYRA #Atmospheric #FuneralDoom #DeathMetal #Març2026 #Brasil #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

I think most people who meet me, either online or in meatspace, would not imagine I enjoy a genre like funeral doom. Yet, it is one of my favorites. Acts like Eye of Solitude, Convocation, Slow, Un, and Ahab rank among my top choices for the space, and Romania’s In Ruins caught my ear by treading a similar path. A duo established in 2021, with mastermind Urmuz previously engaged with a spectrum of black metal, grindcore, and death/doom acts, In Ruins prepared a tight 42-minute opus as their opening salvo into fundoom territory. We Are All to Perish, but will we remember the journey that In Ruins led to that final destination?

With some funeral doom records, you get catharsis in the form of a few well-placed outbursts of violence interspersed between large swaths of misery. This is the philosophy Eye of Solitude and Convocation often adopt. Other applications of the style prioritize moods and crushing sorrow delivered at a dirge, a uniformly funereal pace that hypnotizes as much as it depresses. Enter the eulogies of Slow and Un. In Ruins embraces the latter methodology, lumbering as a husk emptied of light and of will. It is a deeply affecting emotional foundation upon which to build, and In Ruins build upon it well. Riffs crush and linger, simple and thunderous, but here they are not the hero element. Melody and atmosphere take a higher rank, though they too dilute into a more simplified, pure state that maximizes potency while stripping away musical complexity. It is entrancing as only funeral doom records can be, and its smart writing boasts all of the natural components for a successful procession.

In Ruins – We Are All to Perish | MMR069 by In Ruins

A common element that distinguishes good and great funeral doom records from inferior specimens is a showstopper track. Slow famously invites comparison here with their incredible “Incendiare,” Eye of Solitude with “Act II: Where the Descent Began,” Convocation with “Atychiphobia,” Woebegone Obscured with “Drømmefald.” In Ruins achieves it with closer “Farewell,” and does so in the most deceptively simple way. By launching the track with excellent SWANA1-inspired melisma, and reinforcing those deep vocalizations later against mournful bells, In Ruins makes an indelible mark on my fundoom rotation. It’s slow and plodding through its first act, enacting yet another favorite motif: the two-chord riff (see Slow’s “Lueur” for a stellar example of this tactic). In its second, a weeping melody, isolated against droning choral synths and Frayle-esque backing siren song until the album’s dying rattle. It is breathtaking and morose in equal measure, but more than that, it inspires repeat spins for the express purpose of experiencing the excursion that led to this climax with greater anticipation and attention.

This, in turn, invigorates and contextualizes the songwriting of the preceding three tracks. At first, they go through all the right motions of a proper funeral doom experience, but without a strong sense of memorability to leave a lasting impression. But after the first spin, I noticed the clarity of “I’m Tired of Living in My Land” offered by its candid, unpretentious lyrics. I understood the emptiness and the apathy that colors “I Do Not Regret and I Do Not Shed Tears” in a monochrome, dull gray. Compositional foreshadowing felt more meaningful when “We’ll Depart This World for Ever, Surely” sets me up for “Farewell” once more. In this way, In Ruins crafted a record that requires repeat spins to fully appreciate, forging a double edged sword. On one side, each of the first three songs on their own still lacks the same power of the closer despite gaining substance with time. On the other hand, treated as a single unit, We Are All to Perish is a wholly successful and worthy entry into the pantheon of funeral doom.

As a competitor to the standout entities of the funeral field, In Ruins stake a viable claim with We Are All to Perish. To push further into that space and stand out, they’ll need to make each and every track—especially if there are as few as four, like so here—unforgettable in some meaningful way. “Farewell” is a great song, and features elements and ideas that, if capitalized on in future records, might guarantee In Ruins a wider audience and greater acclaim. Until then, rest easy knowing that while We Are All to Perish, we can at least enjoy the path that leads to the end.

Rating: Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Meuse Music Records
Websites: inruins13.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/InRuins.ro
Releases Worldwide: March 13th, 2026

Show 1 footnote

1. Southwest Asian and North African. ↩

I think most people who meet me, either online or in meatspace, would not imagine I enjoy a genre like funeral doom. Yet, it is one of my favorites. Acts like Eye of Solitude, Convocation, Slow, Un, and Ahab rank among my top choices for the space, and Romania’s In Ruins caught my ear by treading a similar path. A duo established in 2021, with mastermind Urmuz previously engaged with a spectrum of black metal, grindcore, and death/doom acts, In Ruins prepared a tight 42-minute opus as their opening salvo into fundoom territory. We Are All to Perish, but will we remember the journey that In Ruins led to that final destination?

With some funeral doom records, you get catharsis in the form of a few well-placed outbursts of violence interspersed between large swaths of misery. This is the philosophy Eye of Solitude and Convocation often adopt. Other applications of the style prioritize moods and crushing sorrow delivered at a dirge, a uniformly funereal pace that hypnotizes as much as it depresses. Enter the eulogies of Slow and Un. In Ruins embraces the latter methodology, lumbering as a husk emptied of light and of will. It is a deeply affecting emotional foundation upon which to build, and In Ruins build upon it well. Riffs crush and linger, simple and thunderous, but here they are not the hero element. Melody and atmosphere take a higher rank, though they too dilute into a more simplified, pure state that maximizes potency while stripping away musical complexity. It is entrancing as only funeral doom records can be, and its smart writing boasts all of the natural components for a successful procession.

In Ruins – We Are All to Perish | MMR069 by In Ruins

A common element that distinguishes good and great funeral doom records from inferior specimens is a showstopper track. Slow famously invites comparison here with their incredible “Incendiare,” Eye of Solitude with “Act II: Where the Descent Began,” Convocation with “Atychiphobia,” Woebegone Obscured with “Drømmefald.” In Ruins achieves it with closer “Farewell,” and does so in the most deceptively simple way. By launching the track with excellent SWANA1-inspired melisma, and reinforcing those deep vocalizations later against mournful bells, In Ruins makes an indelible mark on my fundoom rotation. It’s slow and plodding through its first act, enacting yet another favorite motif: the two-chord riff (see Slow’s “Lueur” for a stellar example of this tactic). In its second, a weeping melody, isolated against droning choral synths and Frayle-esque backing siren song until the album’s dying rattle. It is breathtaking and morose in equal measure, but more than that, it inspires repeat spins for the express purpose of experiencing the excursion that led to this climax with greater anticipation and attention.

This, in turn, invigorates and contextualizes the songwriting of the preceding three tracks. At first, they go through all the right motions of a proper funeral doom experience, but without a strong sense of memorability to leave a lasting impression. But after the first spin, I noticed the clarity of “I’m Tired of Living in My Land” offered by its candid, unpretentious lyrics. I understood the emptiness and the apathy that colors “I Do Not Regret and I Do Not Shed Tears” in a monochrome, dull gray. Compositional foreshadowing felt more meaningful when “We’ll Depart This World for Ever, Surely” sets me up for “Farewell” once more. In this way, In Ruins crafted a record that requires repeat spins to fully appreciate, forging a double edged sword. On one side, each of the first three songs on their own still lacks the same power of the closer despite gaining substance with time. On the other hand, treated as a single unit, We Are All to Perish is a wholly successful and worthy entry into the pantheon of funeral doom.

As a competitor to the standout entities of the funeral field, In Ruins stake a viable claim with We Are All to Perish. To push further into that space and stand out, they’ll need to make each and every track—especially if there are as few as four, like so here—unforgettable in some meaningful way. “Farewell” is a great song, and features elements and ideas that, if capitalized on in future records, might guarantee In Ruins a wider audience and greater acclaim. Until then, rest easy knowing that while We Are All to Perish, we can at least enjoy the path that leads to the end.

Rating: Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Meuse Music Records
Websites: inruins13.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/InRuins.ro
Releases Worldwide: March 13th, 2026

WOUNDS OF RECOLLECTION (Estats Units) presenta nou Split: "Late in the Season of Flies" #WoundsOfRecollection #FuneralDoom #BlackMetal #PostBlackMetal #PostRock #Febrer2026 #EstatsUnits #NouSplit #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Even with someone as infinitely absorbent as this sponge, things slip through the cracks sometimes. In 2019, I gave a shout to Post Luctum’s debut EP After Mourning, citing its very promising funereal pall as a welcome comrade to contemporary heavy hitters like Altars of Grief and Slow. Somehow, some way, I completely missed not one, not two, but three full-lengths from the Maryland-based solo artist in the span between then and 2026’s Timor Lucis. But it couldn’t have come at a better time, with the inclement weather demanding tunes of a dour, reposed, overcast character. The only variable left is how much Post Luctum changed in the years since my last visit.

Aside from overall recording quality and songwriting polish—both of which have improved significantly over the course of seven years—Post Luctum are exactly as I remember, just more refined. Like a friend for whom time apart never creates a mire of awkwardness at the point of reunion, mastermind Ian Goetchius’ slow and steady despair rings with the same earnestness that made After Mourning such a striking proof of concept. At once, I feel comforted and warmed by Timor Lucis’ Slowed melodies, chilled by its Altars of Grief-like eulogy, and heartened by post-metallic touches that evoke hints of In Mourning or Latitudes. It’s a reliable sound that should be familiar to anyone who partakes of the funeral side of the doom spectrum, and Post Luctum applies it with poise and passion.

Timor Lucis by Post Luctum

As the crooning cleans of “Approaching Light” give way to the lumbering march of the deadly “Shrouded by the Sea,” Timor Lucis envelops me in a kind of sorrow that pulls me into full immersion with an uncanny ease. Almost an autonomic response beyond my control, this immersion feels akin to immediacy in the context of this music, where memorability is found not so much in individual notes and compartmentalized verses, but rather in moods and moments of emotional significance. Even as songs gently coast from a desperate roar to a delicate breeze (“Sunken Fate” into “In Water”) to form notable highlights, I always recall the moment I heard it—where I was, what I felt, what visions these sonic waves summoned from my thoughts—more vividly than the music’s corporeal form. A different impression than what many artists design for their audience, this experience is its own kind of magic. Difficult to conjure and even trickier to master, Post Luctum struck the right balance of texture, timing, and feeling to invoke such magic and impose its power on my mind, revealing Timor Lucis’ greatest strength.

Curious, then, that once the final note fades into the ether, I struggle to find that pull which brings me back into Timor Lucis’ loving, tear-soaked embrace. As I continued my tenure with this record, I wondered if the root of that struggle was familiarity. Songs like “Disavowed,” “A Curse Now A Plague,” and “I Welcome In the Cold” reminded so strongly of the core of my funeral doom rotation (Slow, Un, Woebegone Obscured) that Post Luctum inadvertently guided me directly into their clutches, and I found myself forgetting about Timor Lucis. I realize now that this is the double-edged sword of the aforementioned strength this record holds. Immersive as it undoubtedly is, and as reliable as its writing is in achieving that immersion minute-to-minute, Timor Lucis simply isn’t bold enough as a distinct entity to draw me away from those acts it resembles with which I enjoy a deeper, more established relationship.

This dichotomy exposes one of the greatest challenges not just in reviewership, but also in songwriting from the perspective of the listener. A record is not made unworthy strictly because it is familiar, nor is my enjoyment of this material lessened by my personal history with the genre. Chances are good that I will return to Timor Lucis with a willing and eager heart over the course of the year. Equally, I acknowledge that it will never meaningfully challenge those records I deem the highest order in the style. On the other hand, you, the reader, might find this is your highest order. Regardless, Post Luctum deserves a chance to take you into its heart, and in the spirit of that truth, I offer my warm, albeit moderated, recommendation.

Rating: Good!
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Meuse Music Records
Websites: postluctum.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/postluctum
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

It’s no secret that funeral doom is all about death, but in case you weren’t aware, Lone Wanderer hits you over the head with the fact (don’t worry, it’s not a fatal whack). The title of their latest record, Exequaie, is Latin for “funeral rites.” The album cover, from Ernst Ferdinand Oehme’s 1828 painting Procession in the Fog, depicts a ghostly funeral procession, and most song titles use death as a theme in some shape or form. Lone Wanderer have been at this for over ten years, but they’ve been independent until now, signing with High Roller Records for the release of Exequaie. According to the band’s promo sheet, this will be album number three, but perhaps it’s telling how funeral doom warps one’s sense of time when they claim that their 43-minute debut is an EP. Their follow-up, The Majesty of Loss, is only three minutes longer, so it’s anyone’s guess where they draw the line between LP and EP. Their albums have only gotten longer since, with The Faustian Winter hitting the hour mark and now Exequaie reaching a lofty 72 minutes. Honestly, if you’re looking for a soundtrack to your funeral, this isn’t a bad option.

On the funeral doom scale, Lone Wanderer fits the Oromet scale more closely than My Dying Bride or Godthrymm. Exequaie mixes the gentle with the crushingly heavy, and the heavier riffs carry more reverb than muscle, lending a more tranquil feel than raw power. Over the course of 24 minutes, the beastly opener “To Rest Eternally” demonstrates Lone Wanderer’s slow burn approach, with impenetrably deep vocals, glacial drum beats, and a slowly developed melody. The gentler portions put away the booming drums and instead twinkle with arpeggiated rhythm while the bass plays out a complementary melody. We hear this tug and pull throughout Exequiaie, from the melancholic and heavy to something more peaceful, still tinged with sorrow but carrying a little hope. Ironically, “Anhedonia”1 showcases the album’s most pleasurable and memorable riffs during its opening few minutes. The remainder is also exquisite, delving into immense sorrow before closing out in tranquility. The song guides you into gentle acceptance of the fate that awaits us all at the end.

Exequiae by Lone Wanderer

Going in line with the “funeral rites” theme, plenty of elements in Exequaie appear to represent religious symbols or godly figures. The opening minutes of “To Rest Eternally” provide a distant reminder of a church setting with the tolling of bells. This holy setting returns in the finale, “Epistemology of the Passed,” where organs play a mournful dirge alongside wistful arpeggios. The vocals from Bruno Schotten serve as an omnipresent character, his low rumbles coming off like thunder rolling through the sky. Scattered throughout the album, Lone Wanderer perform spoken word portions that serve to enhance this godly persona. While such song segments are generally a nuisance, here they fit seamlessly, taking on the presence of an Oz-like character, commanding yet distant. The purpose of these elements may be inscrutable, but they do provide a sense of formality and authority accompanying death.

As great as the individual tracks are, Exequiae’s biggest obstacle is its own length. With any funeral doom record, holding the listener’s attention can be a challenge, and a 72-minute runtime across 5 songs feels more like work than pleasure. Yet there is plenty to enjoy on this epic record, and Lone Wanderer does implement some variety to mix things up a bit. “Existence Nullified” has a moment of chugging death-doom riffs that take me back to early Swallow the Sun. “Epistemology of the Passed” has a similar increase in tempo thanks to energetic tremolos and brisk drum beats. These moments are brief and few, but all the more notable because of their rarity. In the end, Exequaie’s length isn’t a deal breaker because it has such exquisite compositions. There’s just so much beauty in the music it could go on for twice as long and it’d still be heavenly.

Lone Wanderer is kicking funeral doom off to a great start for 2026. There’s something about the band’s often gentle sound that creates calm, as opposed to bands that lay the despair and melancholy thick with more powerful, overbearing guitar tones. Don’t let the 72 minutes intimidate you. Set aside some time and let Exequiae’s mix of melancholic, peaceful, and even hopeful tones wash over you and transport you, for a time, to a place where you no longer need to worry.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026