#funeraldoom — Public Fediverse posts

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

#SaturDoom
#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

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

#Ahab - Ahab's Oath

https://youtu.be/6dfxaGFBtsk

#SaturDoom
#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

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

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

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

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

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

A Dream of Poe – Katabasis: A Marriage Among Ashes Review

Miguel Santos loves Edgar Allan Poe. He turned that love into a (sort of) one-man metal project called…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #ADreamofPoe #Apr26 #CA #Canada #Dolven #DoomMetal #Entertainment #FuneralDoom #Katabasis:AMarriageAmongAshes #MeuseMusic #MyDyingBride #ParadiseLost #PortugueseMetal #review #reviews #SymphonicDoom #SymphonicMetal #TempestuousFall
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/625651/

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

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

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

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

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

https://www.europesays.com/be-nl/27757/ Ennui – Qroba | Zware Metalen #albumrecensie #BE #België #Belgium #DeathDoom #doom #DoomMetal #ennui #FuneralDoom #georgië #MeuseMusicRecords #qroba #recensie #review #Science #ScienceAndTechnology #ScienceAndTechnology #Technologie #Technology #Wetenschap #WetenschapEnTechnologie #WetenschapTechnologie #ZwareMetalen

https://www.europesays.com/uk/824268/ In Ruins – We Are All to Perish Review #2026 #30 #Ahab #convocation #DeathDoom #DoomMetal #Entertainment #EyeOfSolitude #Frayle #FuneralDoom #InRuins #Mar26 #MeuseMusicRecords #music #Review #Reviews #RomanianMetal #slow #UK #UN #UnitedKingdom #WeAreAllToPerish #WoebegoneObscured

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

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

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

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

Oak - Disintegrate

#Atmospheric #FuneralDoom #DeathMetal #Metal

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

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

https://www.europesays.com/uk/793553/ Post Luctum – Timor Lucis Review #2026 #30 #AltarsOfGrief #AmericanMetal #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #Entertainment #Feb26 #FuneralDoom #InMourning #Latitudes #MeuseMusicRecords #music #PostLuctum #Review #Reviews #slow #TimorLucis #UK #UN #UnitedKingdom #WoebegoneObscured

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

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

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

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

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

❗ Deuxième volet de cette journée 𝗕𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵 avec le tout récent et excellent "Stygian Bough: Volume II"...

https://www.coreandco.fr/chroniques/bell-witch-aerial-ruin-stygian-bough-volume-ii-10750.html

#review #chronique #doom #funeraldoom #usa

❗ Deuxième volet de cette journée 𝗕𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵 avec le tout récent et excellent "Stygian Bough: Volume II"...

https://www.coreandco.fr/chroniques/bell-witch-aerial-ruin-stygian-bough-volume-ii-10750.html

#review #chronique #doom #funeraldoom #usa

❗ Journée 𝗕𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵 et on commence avec le très bon "Stygian Bough Volume I" et son funeral doom efficace...

https://www.coreandco.fr/chroniques/bell-witch-aerial-ruin-stygian-bough-volume-i-10747.html

#review #chronique #doom #funeraldoom #usa

❗ Journée 𝗕𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵 et on commence avec le très bon "Stygian Bough Volume I" et son funeral doom efficace...

https://www.coreandco.fr/chroniques/bell-witch-aerial-ruin-stygian-bough-volume-i-10747.html

#review #chronique #doom #funeraldoom #usa

https://www.europesays.com/ie/327262/ Lone Wanderer – Exequaie Review #2026 #4.0 #Éire #Entertainment #Exequaie #FuneralDoom #GermanMetal #Godthrymm #HighRollerRecords #IE #Ireland #Jan26 #LoneWanderer #Music #MyDyingBride #Oromet #Review #Reviews #SwallowTheSun

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

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

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

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