#gaerea — Public Fediverse posts

Tuska 2026 Breaks Attendance Record as 66,000 Metal Fans Celebrate Another Historic Weekend

https://voiceofnoir.com/2026/07/03/tuska-2026-breaks-attendance-record-as-66000-metal-fans-celebrate-another-historic-weekend/

Tuska 2026 Breaks Attendance Record as 66,000 Metal Fans Celebrate Another Historic Weekend

https://voiceofnoir.com/2026/07/03/tuska-2026-breaks-attendance-record-as-66000-metal-fans-celebrate-another-historic-weekend/

Tuska 2026 Broke Attendance Record as 66,000 Metal Fans Celebrated Another Historic Weekend

https://voiceofnoir.com/2026/07/02/tuska-2026-breaks-attendance-record-as-66000-metal-fans-celebrate-another-historic-weekend/

Tuska 2026 Broke Attendance Record as 66,000 Metal Fans Celebrated Another Historic Weekend

https://voiceofnoir.com/2026/07/02/tuska-2026-breaks-attendance-record-as-66000-metal-fans-celebrate-another-historic-weekend/

Tuska 2026 Broke Attendance Record as 66,000 Metal Fans Celebrated Another Historic Weekend

https://voiceofnoir.com/2026/07/02/tuska-2026-breaks-attendance-record-as-66000-metal-fans-celebrate-another-historic-weekend/

Crocell – Swarm of Insects Review

Spawned in 2007, Danish quintet Crocell started life as a humble, but prolifically productive melodic death metal troupe,…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #CA #Canada #Crocell #DanishMetalMetal #DeathMetal #DormantOrdeal #EmanzipationRecords #Emperor #Entertainment #Gaerea #May26 #MelodicDeathMetal #review #reviews #SulphurAeon #SwarmofInsects
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/765958/

Spawned in 2007, Danish quintet Crocell started life as a humble, but prolifically productive melodic death metal troupe, churning out five LPs in a relatively brief decade. Six years passed between their fifth and sixth outings, but only two years span the difference between that and the new Swarm of Insects, distributed by Emanzipation Records. Throughout all of that history, Crocell have gotten progressively more blackened in their riff-centered, deathly dealings, but otherwise remained remarkably stable both in sound and lineup. This begs a question of curiosity: What six-legged horrors await me here?

While it’s still true that Crocell haven’t made great shifts in sound or style over the last few records, Swarm of Insects is a more epic and sprawling affair than, say, the relentlessly aggressive Relics. This puts it more in line with black-metal forward predecessor Of Frost, Of Flame, Of Flesh, which saw Crocell leaning more heavily into sweeping songwriting arcs highly reminiscent of Limbo-era Gaerea by way of Sulphur Aeon, with a twist of Emperor. That said, some of the Dormant Ordeal-but-slower death of Relics returns on Swarm. This reprisal of crushing heft, in turn, affords Swarm a more threatening nature without becoming wholly oppressive or undoing its grand storytelling voice.

If that description gives you pause or causes concern that Crocell lost their edge, one spin of the title track should provide ample reassurance. Its scorching tremolo-forward riffs and spectacular energy bring heat to the blood and buzz to the saw. “Traitor’s Blood,” “Shredded Banners,” and “Wolfen Man” double down on that attack, and the extra 90 seconds Crocell invested into what used to be their standard mid-three-mid-four-minute template suits them well. Using that extra time to fortify serrated riffs built to shred and terrify with ominous bridges soaked in shadow and mist brought a new vocabulary to Crocell’s musical lexicon. Not entirely unexpected from a band of this advanced experience, but also not entirely dissimilar to the welcome progression of songwriting sophistication that Sulphur Aeon displayed across their discography, Crocell’s expansion of scope allows the five-plus minutes of “Labyrinthian Tunnels” and even the somewhat weaker “Volcano” to feel justified and satisfying.

As much as Crocell excel in Swarm of Insects’ more patient songwriting, so too do they leave behind some of the more exciting characteristics of past efforts. Always the show-stealer, undercelebrated drummer Andreas Posselt is more restrained here across the board, and I miss the jaw-dropping acrobatics and scalpel-sharp accuracy of his tom-and-cymbal play displayed on past efforts. His performance is still enviable, of course. However, opener “Sarcophagus” is somewhat forgettable in relation to Swarm’s later offerings, in part due to its more reserved writing and lack of that percussive showmanship that I look for from Crocell. Concurrently, Tommy Christensen and Mads Gath traded some of their riff quota for great, towering arcs of trem-picked melodies and protracted chord work. This allows big moments from “Sculptor of Nations” and “Wolfen Man” to hit with tectonic impact—and also serves as a vehicle to bring audibility to Onkel Kusse’s oft-buried bass burble—but may alienate listeners who hoped for another nonstop barnstormer from these Danes. Asbjörn Steffensen, on the other hand, strikes a great balance between deathly roars, hoarse rasps, and pained chants that feel impassioned without losing control entirely. His technique here might be cribbed directly from the tomes of Sulphur Aeon, resulting in a most minor case of identity theft, but it’s a great technique for this sound regardless.

41 minutes pass, the locusts that once blinded my vision now only dot the horizon and straggle before my feet. Wings gently flutter on either side of my ears, and I’m left standing aghast at what just transpired. Crocell, as I anticipated, brought enough heat to spike my adrenaline with concerning ease. This Swarm of Insects may not pose as mortal a danger as previous attacks, but it nonetheless offered its own kind of excitement. In another world, I might be thankful that this wave was easier to weather. But I can’t deny that I miss the intensity and the terror of experiences past. I won’t begrudge Crocell for this more “pleasant” plague, as it was a fine plague all the same. I just hope, one day soon, to fear for my life again.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Emanzipation Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

Spawned in 2007, Danish quintet Crocell started life as a humble, but prolifically productive melodic death metal troupe, churning out five LPs in a relatively brief decade. Six years passed between their fifth and sixth outings, but only two years span the difference between that and the new Swarm of Insects, distributed by Emanzipation Records. Throughout all of that history, Crocell have gotten progressively more blackened in their riff-centered, deathly dealings, but otherwise remained remarkably stable both in sound and lineup. This begs a question of curiosity: What six-legged horrors await me here?

While it’s still true that Crocell haven’t made great shifts in sound or style over the last few records, Swarm of Insects is a more epic and sprawling affair than, say, the relentlessly aggressive Relics. This puts it more in line with black-metal forward predecessor Of Frost, Of Flame, Of Flesh, which saw Crocell leaning more heavily into sweeping songwriting arcs highly reminiscent of Limbo-era Gaerea by way of Sulphur Aeon, with a twist of Emperor. That said, some of the Dormant Ordeal-but-slower death of Relics returns on Swarm. This reprisal of crushing heft, in turn, affords Swarm a more threatening nature without becoming wholly oppressive or undoing its grand storytelling voice.

If that description gives you pause or causes concern that Crocell lost their edge, one spin of the title track should provide ample reassurance. Its scorching tremolo-forward riffs and spectacular energy bring heat to the blood and buzz to the saw. “Traitor’s Blood,” “Shredded Banners,” and “Wolfen Man” double down on that attack, and the extra 90 seconds Crocell invested into what used to be their standard mid-three-mid-four-minute template suits them well. Using that extra time to fortify serrated riffs built to shred and terrify with ominous bridges soaked in shadow and mist brought a new vocabulary to Crocell’s musical lexicon. Not entirely unexpected from a band of this advanced experience, but also not entirely dissimilar to the welcome progression of songwriting sophistication that Sulphur Aeon displayed across their discography, Crocell’s expansion of scope allows the five-plus minutes of “Labyrinthian Tunnels” and even the somewhat weaker “Volcano” to feel justified and satisfying.

As much as Crocell excel in Swarm of Insects’ more patient songwriting, so too do they leave behind some of the more exciting characteristics of past efforts. Always the show-stealer, undercelebrated drummer Andreas Posselt is more restrained here across the board, and I miss the jaw-dropping acrobatics and scalpel-sharp accuracy of his tom-and-cymbal play displayed on past efforts. His performance is still enviable, of course. However, opener “Sarcophagus” is somewhat forgettable in relation to Swarm’s later offerings, in part due to its more reserved writing and lack of that percussive showmanship that I look for from Crocell. Concurrently, Tommy Christensen and Mads Gath traded some of their riff quota for great, towering arcs of trem-picked melodies and protracted chord work. This allows big moments from “Sculptor of Nations” and “Wolfen Man” to hit with tectonic impact—and also serves as a vehicle to bring audibility to Onkel Kusse’s oft-buried bass burble—but may alienate listeners who hoped for another nonstop barnstormer from these Danes. Asbjörn Steffensen, on the other hand, strikes a great balance between deathly roars, hoarse rasps, and pained chants that feel impassioned without losing control entirely. His technique here might be cribbed directly from the tomes of Sulphur Aeon, resulting in a most minor case of identity theft, but it’s a great technique for this sound regardless.

41 minutes pass, the locusts that once blinded my vision now only dot the horizon and straggle before my feet. Wings gently flutter on either side of my ears, and I’m left standing aghast at what just transpired. Crocell, as I anticipated, brought enough heat to spike my adrenaline with concerning ease. This Swarm of Insects may not pose as mortal a danger as previous attacks, but it nonetheless offered its own kind of excitement. In another world, I might be thankful that this wave was easier to weather. But I can’t deny that I miss the intensity and the terror of experiences past. I won’t begrudge Crocell for this more “pleasant” plague, as it was a fine plague all the same. I just hope, one day soon, to fear for my life again.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Emanzipation Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

Spawned in 2007, Danish quintet Crocell started life as a humble, but prolifically productive melodic death metal troupe, churning out five LPs in a relatively brief decade. Six years passed between their fifth and sixth outings, but only two years span the difference between that and the new Swarm of Insects, distributed by Emanzipation Records. Throughout all of that history, Crocell have gotten progressively more blackened in their riff-centered, deathly dealings, but otherwise remained remarkably stable both in sound and lineup. This begs a question of curiosity: What six-legged horrors await me here?

While it’s still true that Crocell haven’t made great shifts in sound or style over the last few records, Swarm of Insects is a more epic and sprawling affair than, say, the relentlessly aggressive Relics. This puts it more in line with black-metal forward predecessor Of Frost, Of Flame, Of Flesh, which saw Crocell leaning more heavily into sweeping songwriting arcs highly reminiscent of Limbo-era Gaerea by way of Sulphur Aeon, with a twist of Emperor. That said, some of the Dormant Ordeal-but-slower death of Relics returns on Swarm. This reprisal of crushing heft, in turn, affords Swarm a more threatening nature without becoming wholly oppressive or undoing its grand storytelling voice.

If that description gives you pause or causes concern that Crocell lost their edge, one spin of the title track should provide ample reassurance. Its scorching tremolo-forward riffs and spectacular energy bring heat to the blood and buzz to the saw. “Traitor’s Blood,” “Shredded Banners,” and “Wolfen Man” double down on that attack, and the extra 90 seconds Crocell invested into what used to be their standard mid-three-mid-four-minute template suits them well. Using that extra time to fortify serrated riffs built to shred and terrify with ominous bridges soaked in shadow and mist brought a new vocabulary to Crocell’s musical lexicon. Not entirely unexpected from a band of this advanced experience, but also not entirely dissimilar to the welcome progression of songwriting sophistication that Sulphur Aeon displayed across their discography, Crocell’s expansion of scope allows the five-plus minutes of “Labyrinthian Tunnels” and even the somewhat weaker “Volcano” to feel justified and satisfying.

As much as Crocell excel in Swarm of Insects’ more patient songwriting, so too do they leave behind some of the more exciting characteristics of past efforts. Always the show-stealer, undercelebrated drummer Andreas Posselt is more restrained here across the board, and I miss the jaw-dropping acrobatics and scalpel-sharp accuracy of his tom-and-cymbal play displayed on past efforts. His performance is still enviable, of course. However, opener “Sarcophagus” is somewhat forgettable in relation to Swarm’s later offerings, in part due to its more reserved writing and lack of that percussive showmanship that I look for from Crocell. Concurrently, Tommy Christensen and Mads Gath traded some of their riff quota for great, towering arcs of trem-picked melodies and protracted chord work. This allows big moments from “Sculptor of Nations” and “Wolfen Man” to hit with tectonic impact—and also serves as a vehicle to bring audibility to Onkel Kusse’s oft-buried bass burble—but may alienate listeners who hoped for another nonstop barnstormer from these Danes. Asbjörn Steffensen, on the other hand, strikes a great balance between deathly roars, hoarse rasps, and pained chants that feel impassioned without losing control entirely. His technique here might be cribbed directly from the tomes of Sulphur Aeon, resulting in a most minor case of identity theft, but it’s a great technique for this sound regardless.

41 minutes pass, the locusts that once blinded my vision now only dot the horizon and straggle before my feet. Wings gently flutter on either side of my ears, and I’m left standing aghast at what just transpired. Crocell, as I anticipated, brought enough heat to spike my adrenaline with concerning ease. This Swarm of Insects may not pose as mortal a danger as previous attacks, but it nonetheless offered its own kind of excitement. In another world, I might be thankful that this wave was easier to weather. But I can’t deny that I miss the intensity and the terror of experiences past. I won’t begrudge Crocell for this more “pleasant” plague, as it was a fine plague all the same. I just hope, one day soon, to fear for my life again.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Emanzipation Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

Spawned in 2007, Danish quintet Crocell started life as a humble, but prolifically productive melodic death metal troupe, churning out five LPs in a relatively brief decade. Six years passed between their fifth and sixth outings, but only two years span the difference between that and the new Swarm of Insects, distributed by Emanzipation Records. Throughout all of that history, Crocell have gotten progressively more blackened in their riff-centered, deathly dealings, but otherwise remained remarkably stable both in sound and lineup. This begs a question of curiosity: What six-legged horrors await me here?

While it’s still true that Crocell haven’t made great shifts in sound or style over the last few records, Swarm of Insects is a more epic and sprawling affair than, say, the relentlessly aggressive Relics. This puts it more in line with black-metal forward predecessor Of Frost, Of Flame, Of Flesh, which saw Crocell leaning more heavily into sweeping songwriting arcs highly reminiscent of Limbo-era Gaerea by way of Sulphur Aeon, with a twist of Emperor. That said, some of the Dormant Ordeal-but-slower death of Relics returns on Swarm. This reprisal of crushing heft, in turn, affords Swarm a more threatening nature without becoming wholly oppressive or undoing its grand storytelling voice.

If that description gives you pause or causes concern that Crocell lost their edge, one spin of the title track should provide ample reassurance. Its scorching tremolo-forward riffs and spectacular energy bring heat to the blood and buzz to the saw. “Traitor’s Blood,” “Shredded Banners,” and “Wolfen Man” double down on that attack, and the extra 90 seconds Crocell invested into what used to be their standard mid-three-mid-four-minute template suits them well. Using that extra time to fortify serrated riffs built to shred and terrify with ominous bridges soaked in shadow and mist brought a new vocabulary to Crocell’s musical lexicon. Not entirely unexpected from a band of this advanced experience, but also not entirely dissimilar to the welcome progression of songwriting sophistication that Sulphur Aeon displayed across their discography, Crocell’s expansion of scope allows the five-plus minutes of “Labyrinthian Tunnels” and even the somewhat weaker “Volcano” to feel justified and satisfying.

As much as Crocell excel in Swarm of Insects’ more patient songwriting, so too do they leave behind some of the more exciting characteristics of past efforts. Always the show-stealer, undercelebrated drummer Andreas Posselt is more restrained here across the board, and I miss the jaw-dropping acrobatics and scalpel-sharp accuracy of his tom-and-cymbal play displayed on past efforts. His performance is still enviable, of course. However, opener “Sarcophagus” is somewhat forgettable in relation to Swarm’s later offerings, in part due to its more reserved writing and lack of that percussive showmanship that I look for from Crocell. Concurrently, Tommy Christensen and Mads Gath traded some of their riff quota for great, towering arcs of trem-picked melodies and protracted chord work. This allows big moments from “Sculptor of Nations” and “Wolfen Man” to hit with tectonic impact—and also serves as a vehicle to bring audibility to Onkel Kusse’s oft-buried bass burble—but may alienate listeners who hoped for another nonstop barnstormer from these Danes. Asbjörn Steffensen, on the other hand, strikes a great balance between deathly roars, hoarse rasps, and pained chants that feel impassioned without losing control entirely. His technique here might be cribbed directly from the tomes of Sulphur Aeon, resulting in a most minor case of identity theft, but it’s a great technique for this sound regardless.

41 minutes pass, the locusts that once blinded my vision now only dot the horizon and straggle before my feet. Wings gently flutter on either side of my ears, and I’m left standing aghast at what just transpired. Crocell, as I anticipated, brought enough heat to spike my adrenaline with concerning ease. This Swarm of Insects may not pose as mortal a danger as previous attacks, but it nonetheless offered its own kind of excitement. In another world, I might be thankful that this wave was easier to weather. But I can’t deny that I miss the intensity and the terror of experiences past. I won’t begrudge Crocell for this more “pleasant” plague, as it was a fine plague all the same. I just hope, one day soon, to fear for my life again.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Emanzipation Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

Spawned in 2007, Danish quintet Crocell started life as a humble, but prolifically productive melodic death metal troupe, churning out five LPs in a relatively brief decade. Six years passed between their fifth and sixth outings, but only two years span the difference between that and the new Swarm of Insects, distributed by Emanzipation Records. Throughout all of that history, Crocell have gotten progressively more blackened in their riff-centered, deathly dealings, but otherwise remained remarkably stable both in sound and lineup. This begs a question of curiosity: What six-legged horrors await me here?

While it’s still true that Crocell haven’t made great shifts in sound or style over the last few records, Swarm of Insects is a more epic and sprawling affair than, say, the relentlessly aggressive Relics. This puts it more in line with black-metal forward predecessor Of Frost, Of Flame, Of Flesh, which saw Crocell leaning more heavily into sweeping songwriting arcs highly reminiscent of Limbo-era Gaerea by way of Sulphur Aeon, with a twist of Emperor. That said, some of the Dormant Ordeal-but-slower death of Relics returns on Swarm. This reprisal of crushing heft, in turn, affords Swarm a more threatening nature without becoming wholly oppressive or undoing its grand storytelling voice.

If that description gives you pause or causes concern that Crocell lost their edge, one spin of the title track should provide ample reassurance. Its scorching tremolo-forward riffs and spectacular energy bring heat to the blood and buzz to the saw. “Traitor’s Blood,” “Shredded Banners,” and “Wolfen Man” double down on that attack, and the extra 90 seconds Crocell invested into what used to be their standard mid-three-mid-four-minute template suits them well. Using that extra time to fortify serrated riffs built to shred and terrify with ominous bridges soaked in shadow and mist brought a new vocabulary to Crocell’s musical lexicon. Not entirely unexpected from a band of this advanced experience, but also not entirely dissimilar to the welcome progression of songwriting sophistication that Sulphur Aeon displayed across their discography, Crocell’s expansion of scope allows the five-plus minutes of “Labyrinthian Tunnels” and even the somewhat weaker “Volcano” to feel justified and satisfying.

As much as Crocell excel in Swarm of Insects’ more patient songwriting, so too do they leave behind some of the more exciting characteristics of past efforts. Always the show-stealer, undercelebrated drummer Andreas Posselt is more restrained here across the board, and I miss the jaw-dropping acrobatics and scalpel-sharp accuracy of his tom-and-cymbal play displayed on past efforts. His performance is still enviable, of course. However, opener “Sarcophagus” is somewhat forgettable in relation to Swarm’s later offerings, in part due to its more reserved writing and lack of that percussive showmanship that I look for from Crocell. Concurrently, Tommy Christensen and Mads Gath traded some of their riff quota for great, towering arcs of trem-picked melodies and protracted chord work. This allows big moments from “Sculptor of Nations” and “Wolfen Man” to hit with tectonic impact—and also serves as a vehicle to bring audibility to Onkel Kusse’s oft-buried bass burble—but may alienate listeners who hoped for another nonstop barnstormer from these Danes. Asbjörn Steffensen, on the other hand, strikes a great balance between deathly roars, hoarse rasps, and pained chants that feel impassioned without losing control entirely. His technique here might be cribbed directly from the tomes of Sulphur Aeon, resulting in a most minor case of identity theft, but it’s a great technique for this sound regardless.

41 minutes pass, the locusts that once blinded my vision now only dot the horizon and straggle before my feet. Wings gently flutter on either side of my ears, and I’m left standing aghast at what just transpired. Crocell, as I anticipated, brought enough heat to spike my adrenaline with concerning ease. This Swarm of Insects may not pose as mortal a danger as previous attacks, but it nonetheless offered its own kind of excitement. In another world, I might be thankful that this wave was easier to weather. But I can’t deny that I miss the intensity and the terror of experiences past. I won’t begrudge Crocell for this more “pleasant” plague, as it was a fine plague all the same. I just hope, one day soon, to fear for my life again.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Emanzipation Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

🩶 #blackandwhite #streetphotography #moodytones #urbanvibes #selfportrait #trna #gaerea #shining

🩶 #blackandwhite #streetphotography #moodytones #urbanvibes #selfportrait #trna #gaerea #shining

Michael Dorn has appeared on screen in more episodes of Star Trek than anyone else.1 His character, the mighty Klingon warrior, Captain2 Worf is known to greatly enjoy gagh, a traditional Klingon delicacy comprised of live, wriggling serpent worms. It’s fucking gross. It’s also the first thing I thought of when I saw the album art for Gorrch’s sophomore effort, Stillamentum. Founded in 2010 and hailing from Cavaso del Tomba in northeastern Italy, Gorrch is the unsettling black metal project of fraternal duo, Chrimsicrin and Droich. Now, a decade after 2015 debut Nera estasi, Gorrch plumbs the depths of the abyss, seeking to give voice to the primal fear and disgust of being covered in roiling, writhing masses of maggots.

Standard black metal isn’t dark enough for Gorrch. Stillamentum is about horror and dread. Opener “Nimbus” wastes no time burying you alive in a cramped wooden box. Guitars like clamoring bells ring with sanity-threatening dissonance while pummeling blast beats quickly deplete your limited oxygen. Droich viciously saws at palm-muted strings like the erratic, terrifying sprints of cockroaches exploring what’s in the box (you). A lull at the midpoint ushers in a spiraling riff, rising like your gorge in mortal terror. Heretical Gregorian chanting reveals your captors as zealots, and all hope of seeing the sun again dies. Deranged prayers ripped from Chrimsicrin’s throat (“Vorago,” “Angor”), metallic tones like snapping wires (“Vorago,” “Larvæ”), and ritualistic percussion (“Phlegma”) keep you locked in this waking nightmare. The blasphemous love child of Gaerea and Imperial Triumphant, Stillamentum is cacophonous, claustrophobic, and rapturously disturbed.

Stillamentum by Gorrch

Developing and fostering atmosphere through repetition is a common trope in black metal. Stillamentum is no exception, but Gorrch’s approach makes the assessment thereof a bit of a challenge. Each track begins with strong, fast riffs, either searing or psychotic, drawing me in and demanding my attention. Somewhere in the middle third, however, long passages featuring markedly less instrumental variation take over and guide the song to its conclusion. The result is two or three minutes of relatively repetitive instrumentals per track. This was not an issue while running errands or gaming or otherwise spinning Stillamentum in the background—and was in fact a boon—as I enjoyed basking in the consistent atmosphere, but on focused listens, these stretched sections can stall the furious momentum gained earlier in each song.

This same critique can be found mirrored in the structure of Stillamentum as a whole. The front half—“Nimbus,” “Vorago,” and “Larvæ”—as well as closer “Phlegma,” evoke a singular and impressive sense of fear. “Cryptæ” and “Angor,” however, feel less inspired, giving the album’s quality a parabolic shape. They’re not bad songs by any means; there are parts of each I particularly enjoyed. I loved the tempo shift at the midpoint of “Angor” and the clanging, descending riffs in “Cryptæ,” and the synergy between the ritual chanting and Chrimsicrin’s drum work on both tracks is very effective. Even so, they seem closer to boilerplate black metal than the rest of Stillamentum, their teeth notably blunter in comparison. As on the level of individual tracks, this structure works well in the background, but under scrutiny, it highlights opportunities for Gorrch to improve their pacing and direction.

Gorrch shines brightest at their darkest and most unsafe. On Stillamentum, theirs is an abyssal darkness, drenched in formicative3 horror and clothed in perverse piety. At their most oppressive, Gorrch is exactly my kind of black metal: suffocating, malicious, dissonant, and maybe a little blasphemous. Were I grading based on highlights alone, Stillamentum would score much higher. Alas, those peaks are saddled with overlong atmospheric passages, a slight overuse of chanting vocals, and mildly inconsistent quality. If Gorrch can distill their strengths from Stillamentum and hone them to delve even deeper into the void, they’ll unearth something truly unspeakable.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Avantgarde Music
Websites: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026

Michael Dornan has appeared on screen in more episodes of Star Trek than anyone else.1 His character, the mighty Klingon warrior, Captain2 Worf is known to greatly enjoy gagh, a traditional Klingon delicacy comprised of live, wriggling serpent worms. It’s fucking gross. It’s also the first thing I thought of when I saw the album art for Gorrch’s sophomore effort, Stillamentum. Founded in 2010 and hailing from Cavaso del Tomba in northeastern Italy, Gorrch is the unsettling black metal project of fraternal duo, Chrimsicrin and Droich. Now, a decade after 2015 debut Nera estasi, Gorrch plumbs the depths of the abyss, seeking to give voice to the primal fear and disgust of being covered in roiling, writhing masses of maggots.

Standard black metal isn’t dark enough for Gorrch. Stillamentum is about horror and dread. Opener “Nimbus” wastes no time burying you alive in a cramped wooden box. Guitars like clamoring bells ring with sanity-threatening dissonance while pummeling blast beats quickly deplete your limited oxygen. Droich viciously saws at palm-muted strings like the erratic, terrifying sprints of cockroaches exploring what’s in the box (you). A lull at the midpoint ushers in a spiraling riff, rising like your gorge in mortal terror. Heretical Gregorian chanting reveals your captors as zealots, and all hope of seeing the sun again dies. Deranged prayers ripped from Chrimsicrin’s throat (“Vorago,” “Angor”), metallic tones like snapping wires (“Vorago,” “Larvæ”), and ritualistic percussion (“Phlegma”) keep you locked in this waking nightmare. The blasphemous love child of Gaerea and Imperial Triumphant, Stillamentum is cacophonous, claustrophobic, and rapturously disturbed.

Stillamentum by Gorrch

Developing and fostering atmosphere through repetition is a common trope in black metal. Stillamentum is no exception, but Gorrch’s approach makes the assessment thereof a bit of a challenge. Each track begins with strong, fast riffs, either searing or psychotic, drawing me in and demanding my attention. Somewhere in the middle third, however, long passages featuring markedly less instrumental variation take over and guide the song to its conclusion. The result is two or three minutes of relatively repetitive instrumentals per track. This was not an issue while running errands or gaming or otherwise spinning Stillamentum in the background—and was in fact a boon—as I enjoyed basking in the consistent atmosphere, but on focused listens, these stretched sections can stall the furious momentum gained earlier in each song.

This same critique can be found mirrored in the structure of Stillamentum as a whole. The front half—“Nimbus,” “Vorago,” and “Larvæ”—as well as closer “Phlegma,” evoke a singular and impressive sense of fear. “Cryptæ” and “Angor,” however, feel less inspired, giving the album’s quality a parabolic shape. They’re not bad songs by any means; there are parts of each I particularly enjoyed. I loved the tempo shift at the midpoint of “Angor” and the clanging, descending riffs in “Cryptæ,” and the synergy between the ritual chanting and Chrimsicrin’s drum work on both tracks is very effective. Even so, they seem closer to boilerplate black metal than the rest of Stillamentum, their teeth notably blunter in comparison. As on the level of individual tracks, this structure works well in the background, but under scrutiny, it highlights opportunities for Gorrch to improve their pacing and direction.

Gorrch shines brightest at their darkest and most unsafe. On Stillamentum, theirs is an abyssal darkness, drenched in formicative3 horror and clothed in perverse piety. At their most oppressive, Gorrch is exactly my kind of black metal: suffocating, malicious, dissonant, and maybe a little blasphemous. Were I grading based on highlights alone, Stillamentum would score much higher. Alas, those peaks are saddled with overlong atmospheric passages, a slight overuse of chanting vocals, and mildly inconsistent quality. If Gorrch can distill their strengths from Stillamentum and hone them to delve even deeper into the void, they’ll unearth something truly unspeakable.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Avantgarde Music
Websites: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026

You may be wondering what on earth I am doing willingly touching a black metal album, let alone complimenting one. Well, you know what they say: never let them know your next move. Mysterious Polish-Italian collective Amalekim garnered praise in these hallowed halls with their 2023 release Avodah Zarah, our own Thus Spoke calling it a highlight during a weaker year for the genre. Naturally, I disliked the album, which tends to be a good sign for the average black metal fan. I was nevertheless surprised to see Shir Hashirim released to little fanfare or label promotion after such a positive reception 18 months prior. One look at the ‘melodic’ prefix reactivated my optimist instincts; maybe Amalekim was worth another shot. Two years is a long time in music, let alone fleeting personal tastes.

Not much has necessarily changed with Amalekim’s vicious formula, but the refinements are significant. The core of the band’s sound still lies in the realms of early Gaerea but is also distinctly its own thing altogether. And contrary to Gaerea’s recent development,1 Amalekim isn’t planning to go metalcore any time soon. No, Shir Hashirim further improves on the band’s best qualities while retaining their identity, offering relentless speed and riffs for days (“Chant II: Shir Hashirim,” “Chant IV: Sodot HaYekum”). It’s what I like to call ‘violently melodic’ for all the right reasons, both the intense drumming by Ktulak and the demonic vocals of Mróz enhancing the spite present in the dueling guitars. Most importantly, Amalekim never lets their foot off the gas pedal on their mission to create hauntingly aggressive yet beautifully melodic music.

Shir Hashirim by Amalekim

Shir Hashirim’s success comes from its subversion of common black metal tropes without abandoning them. Gone is the overreliance on standard tremolo and blast beat abuse that I previously took issue with. Those elements are both still key to the album, but in a much more appealing and bite-sized, fresh context (“Chant III: Mesharet HaShilton,” “Chant VIII: Mishteh Malkhuti”). Amalekim’s songwriting has evolved into a much more varied beast with plenty of creative drum and riff patterns to show for it. It almost feels like there’s a bunch of death metal DNA in the band’s songwriting this time (“Chant VI: Tisha Daltot”); in this way, I could see it being the blackened mirror image of Dormant Ordeal’s newest. Where Shir Hashirim improves over Dormant Ordeal’s excellent release is the wonderfully warm and roomy production, a complete opposite of what many others in this scene go for. It once again shows that your album doesn’t need to be crushed or lo-fi to sound brutal—great production simply makes the performance all the more powerful and unyielding.

Shir Hashirim is the first black metal record in ages to catch my interest, and one of the best albums of the year at that. Violent, melodic, and extremely fast all at once, its 38-minute package of eight chants simply leaves me wanting to immediately replay the experience all over again. It’s tight and consistent in a way few other records this year are, and its form of melodic fury makes the album unintentionally catchy. Amalekim’s oppressive and angry atmosphere should satiate the usual suspects, but the breakneck pace and no-nonsense songwriting on Shir Hashirim are sure to appeal to a wider audience as well.

Track to Check Out: “Chant II: Shir Hashirim,” “Chant IV: Sodot HaYekum,” and “Chant VII: Haka’as HaNachash.”

You may be wondering what on earth I am doing willingly touching a black metal album, let alone complimenting one. Well, you know what they say: never let them know your next move. Mysterious Polish-Italian collective Amalekim garnered praise in these hallowed halls with their 2023 release Avodah Zarah, our own Thus Spoke calling it a highlight during a weaker year for the genre. Naturally, I disliked the album, which tends to be a good sign for the average black metal fan. I was nevertheless surprised to see Shir Hashirim released to little fanfare or label promotion after such a positive reception 18 months prior. One look at the ‘melodic’ prefix reactivated my optimist instincts; maybe Amalekim was worth another shot. Two years is a long time in music, let alone fleeting personal tastes.

Not much has necessarily changed with Amalekim’s vicious formula, but the refinements are significant. The core of the band’s sound still lies in the realms of early Gaerea but is also distinctly its own thing altogether. And contrary to Gaerea’s recent development,1 Amalekim isn’t planning to go metalcore any time soon. No, Shir Hashirim further improves on the band’s best qualities while retaining their identity, offering relentless speed and riffs for days (“Chant II: Shir Hashirim,” “Chant IV: Sodot HaYekum”). It’s what I like to call ‘violently melodic’ for all the right reasons, both the intense drumming by Ktulak and the demonic vocals of Mróz enhancing the spite present in the dueling guitars. Most importantly, Amalekim never lets their foot off the gas pedal on their mission to create hauntingly aggressive yet beautifully melodic music.

Shir Hashirim by Amalekim

Shir Hashirim’s success comes from its subversion of common black metal tropes without abandoning them. Gone is the overreliance on standard tremolo and blast beat abuse that I previously took issue with. Those elements are both still key to the album, but in a much more appealing and bite-sized, fresh context (“Chant III: Mesharet HaShilton,” “Chant VIII: Mishteh Malkhuti”). Amalekim’s songwriting has evolved into a much more varied beast with plenty of creative drum and riff patterns to show for it. It almost feels like there’s a bunch of death metal DNA in the band’s songwriting this time (“Chant VI: Tisha Daltot”); in this way, I could see it being the blackened mirror image of Dormant Ordeal’s newest. Where Shir Hashirim improves over Dormant Ordeal’s excellent release is the wonderfully warm and roomy production, a complete opposite of what many others in this scene go for. It once again shows that your album doesn’t need to be crushed or lo-fi to sound brutal—great production simply makes the performance all the more powerful and unyielding.

Shir Hashirim is the first black metal record in ages to catch my interest, and one of the best albums of the year at that. Violent, melodic, and extremely fast all at once, its 38-minute package of eight chants simply leaves me wanting to immediately replay the experience all over again. It’s tight and consistent in a way few other records this year are, and its form of melodic fury makes the album unintentionally catchy. Amalekim’s oppressive and angry atmosphere should satiate the usual suspects, but the breakneck pace and no-nonsense songwriting on Shir Hashirim are sure to appeal to a wider audience as well.

Track to Check Out: “Chant II: Shir Hashirim,” “Chant IV: Sodot HaYekum,” and “Chant VII: Haka’as HaNachash.”

For @HailsandAles' #BlackMetalMonday:

#DerWegEinerFreiheit: Innern

https://album.link/i/1818636970

#AtmospheircBlackMetal #ProgressiveBlackMetal

FFO #Gaerea #Heretoir #Verheerer

Dormant Ordeal – Tooth and Nail Review

By Tyme

Though often yoked to the tech death scene, I’ve never found Dormant Ordeal particularly technical. Or at least not in the way bands like Defeated Sanity, Archspire, or Gorod are considered technical. Why is this important? Because on Tooth and Nail, their fourth outing and first for new label Willowtip, we see Dormant Ordeal step further away from any vestiges of technicality. Factor in too that, since the release of We Had It Coming, Dormant Ordeal continues to shrink—the most recent departure being that of drummer and founding member Radek Kowal—and you have an ordeal ripe for drama. Dormant Ordeal has, however, always managed high levels of quality output. AMG’s own Dr. Wvrm praised 2016’s WHIT with a TYMHM treatment and crowned 2021’s The Grand Scheme of Things with a 4.0 of thorns. Still, I wondered how Kowal’s absence would affect the Dormant Ordeal sound and whether Tooth and Nail would have the amount of fight I’d hoped for.

A showcase for every weapon at Dormant Ordeal‘s disposal, Tooth and Nail writhes with ruthless savagery, staying true to the classic Polish death metal sound. And while the likes of Decapitated, Ulcerate, and Gaerea still hold some comparative weight, Dormant Ordeal has done more than enough to step from the shadows of comparison into the light of its own sound. Like a grizzled wizard atop rocky crags, Maciej Nieścioruk casts rifferous spells filled with whirling tremolos, walls of layered dissonance, grinding chugs, and cascading shimmers of post-metal strums as well as bass lines brimming with gravitas. Chason Westmoreland (Cambion, ex-Equipoise, ex-Hate Eternal) fills in behind the kit and turns in a monstrous performance. His snare blasts, machine-like double kicks, and miles of tom fills lend warmth and deep richness to the vibrant drum sound, departing from Dormant Ordeal‘s former snare-heavy drone. Add in the fact that Maciej Proficz sounds more beastly and vicious than I’ve ever heard him, and we realize this iteration of Dormant Ordeal walks a different path—a path of blackened death, sure, but also one of well-crafted atmospheres, post-metallic melodicism, and a low-end presence absent from previous efforts.

For every passage on Tooth and Nail that tips a hat toward Dormant Ordeal‘s past, there are as many that point to a brighter future. Longtime fans will feel wrapped in a warm, WHIC comforter when the stutter-stepping, skronky riffs of “Dust Crown” take off or the theatrically dramatic “Orphans” flies by in blurs of blistering blasts and speed-hungry riffs. These moments juxtaposed against the brilliance of the plodding, weighty drama of “Solvent,” an atmospheric long-player full of melancholic guitar lines and shimmering tremolos or the very excellent “Against the Dying of the Light,” a nod to Dylan Thomas that is one of the most vicious songs on the album, Proficz’s roar of ‘Against the dying of the light. RAGE!” gives me goosebumps every time. Every song a marvel, Tooth and Nail finds Dormant Ordeal plumbing new depths of excellence by tapping into a dormant, lush production that suits the material to a tee.

Aside from Westmoreland recording his drum parts, all aspects of the production on Tooth and Nail appear, at least on paper, the same as on TGSoT, even down to the DR score. Yet, this time, Pawel Grabowski exited the lab at JNS Studio with a mix that brought to life the dark textures of Nieścioruk’s bass lines (“Halo of Bones”) and the theatrical intricacies of his guitar work (“Everything That Isn’t Silence Is Trivial”) in a way no previous Dormant Ordeal album has managed. Every minute of Tooth and Nail‘s forty-seven-minute runtime is put to good use, leaving not even the traditional complaint of artistic bloat on the table. I suppose I would have liked to see a bit more instrumentality added to “Wije I Mary, Pt. 1” to better tie it to the beautifully executed work on the bookend “Wije I Mary, Pt. 2,” but even this minuscule nit barely registers.

From its cover to its content, Tooth and Nail represents the absolute best of what Dormant Ordeal can be. It isn’t easy to part ways with a band’s sole founding member. Many don’t survive. Perhaps the fight and struggle it took Nieścioruk and Proficz to overcome and usher Tooth and Nail into the light of day is reflected in the album’s title and theme, which is one of grit, determination, and doing the difficult thing, to fight tooth and nail if you will. I commend Dormant Ordeal for carrying on and in so doing releasing its best album yet.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 18th, 2025

#2025 #40 #Apr25 #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #Decapitated #DormantOrdeal #Gaerea #PolishMetal #Review #Reviews #ToothAndNail #Ulcerate #WillowtipRecords

Enevelde – Pandemonium Review

By Dear Hollow

There’s something to be said for simplicity in black metal. You don’t need an onslaught of atmospherics and technical skill to make it work – and in most cases, it’s discouraged. Sometimes you just need an effective chord progression, the right distortion, basically any vocal style that you can put through a reverb filter, and drums that hold a beat. Norway’s Enevelde knows this. Honing a distinctly cavernous approach to the Nidrosian black metal scene, the one-man act may not blow you away with its riffage, ferocity, or darkness, but third full-length Pandemonium aims for its most cohesive and sinister album yet.1

Enevelde is a project of B. Kråbøl, best known as vocalist of Misotheist and constituent of the second-wave Addams Family band Kråbøl, and at one time serving as drummer of the melodeath act Hypermass. While his projects are largely known for their intensity, Misotheist bringing the terror back to black metal and Kråbøl enacting traditional second-wave frigidity, Enevelde has always dealt in a more subtle and more evocative breed. Drums verge on DSBM in their restraint, rarely exploding into blastbeats, and guitars rely on droning tremolo picking rather than the sharp and vicious tinnitus with which we are accustomed. Vocals are guttural roars rather than sinister shrieks, lending a cavernous quality that adds depth and weight across the board. Following up 2020’s densely atmospheric self-titled debut and 2023’s more cruel and intense En Gildere Død, Pandemonium’s aim is subtlety, a creeping quality that suggests chaos rather than weaponizing it.

Subtlety is the emphasis for Enevelde, crafting subtly atmospheric tracks that rely on chord progressions, . Reminiscent of acts like Harakiri for the Sky or Gaerea, Kråbøl paints an unmistakably evocative picture with diminished chord progressions enriched by reverb-y roars and subtle synth flourishes (“Nigromantia,” “Helvete Reiser Seg”), haunted leads guiding grave, intensely dark, and nearly doomy weight (title track, “Eksilfyrste”), and fury and reaching the surface with tasteful blastbeats and dense bass (“Offer,” “Rasende Flammer”). The guitar tone throughout blends second-wave’s more barbed maceration (the raw misdirect opener “Gapende Grav) and a more modern doomish density (“Rasende Flammer”). Utilizing a style that kicks the gut-punch intensity down a few notches in favor of that creeping feeling, it’s a dreary piece of work in the most pleasant way.

While the best of black metal’s upper echelon features a smart blend of highlights and mood, Enevelde is very comfortable in its emphasis of the latter. Granted, you won’t come upon a black metal band that dwells in more cavernous tones often, but that’s about all that Enevelde does. It’s spooky blackened music with a somewhat unique vocal attack,2 a style that will please fans of the style, but there’s little else to be found aboard Pandemonium. Its slower dirge-like pacing is more akin to DSBM in the emotional gravitas attached to each plod, but if you’re not in the mood to be taken into the place that Kråbøl’s riffs and roars create, there’s nothing hooking you either. While effective, Enevelde is remarkably straightforward and one-note, its layers and richness devoted to the feeling in every movement. In short, there are no hooks aboard Pandemonium – just mood and reverie.

Enevelde has a good thing going, but its audience remains starkly limited. It will not change your mind on black metal, but its humble and straightforward execution, an atmosphere without the need for over-the-top theatrics, is a strong asset. It rarely rises above haunting and creepy, but it recognizes that it doesn’t need to. Pandemonium is far less an all-out chaos attack, and more demons are looming in the wings, utilizing punishment and insanity only when necessary. Enevelde offers a neat little black metal album – nothing more, nothing less.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Terratur Possessions
Website: 2 kvlt 4 u
Releases Worldwide: April 9th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackMetal #Enevelde #Firtan #Gaerea #HarakiriForTheSky #Hypermass #Kråbøl #Misotheist #NorwegianMetal #pandemonium #Review #Reviews #TerraturPossessions

Paths to Deliverance – Ten Review

By Thus Spoke

Metal has long taken inspiration from the realms of horror, mysticism, and the occult. Paths to Deliverance adopt ideas from all three. Debut Ten, structured roughly around the bardo—the liminal experience leading from the point of death through to reincarnation—also borrows imagery and storytelling from “Edgar Allan Poe, Lovecraft, Clive Barker, Graham Masterton, and Stephen King, as well as […] Dante.” You would be justified in assuming this is a solo project, given its eclectic and lengthy blurb, but this is only partially true as progenitor A.S.A has recruited artists to fill every position other than his own vocal and bass duties.1 It is, of course, black metal—if the concept, the fact that it’s a solo project, and artwork weren’t a clue. Yet here again, Paths to Deliverance claim difference and particular fearfulness. Not trve or raw, but truly frightening, and deeply personal, if the promo material is to be believed.

Ten is a lengthy tale and like any story, has its ups and downs. However, these fluctuations cannot be attributed only to the concept that supposedly drives the music. Surrounding the peaks of ardour and vivacious, vitriolic riffdom is an odd nebulousness that drains the force from otherwise solid songs. This sense, which only builds over the runtime, contributes to the album’s lack of cohesive flow, and how it may yet contain greatness. Running through Ten is a powerful current of feeling, expressed primarily through a mournful, melodic black metal that sounds a lot like Gaerea in everything from the extended mini-catharses of rushing drums and urgent tremolos, to the very guitar tones and the way the howls and riffs echo brightly in the background (“Resonances,” “Alone in the Dark,” “Delirium,” “The Storm”). Right alongside this is a more belligerent blackened death, less concerned with atmosphere than with evoking the spirit of spiteful independence that eschews the vulnerability of that other, more melancholic style (“Solitude,” “The Calm Before the Storm”). And then there’s the vague integration of a raucous group-vocal attitude (“Delirium,” “Here Lies…”) and classical guitar (“Reveries,” “The Storm”). These approaches are not inherently contradictory, and allow Paths to Deliverance to demonstrate worthy aptitude for stirring and exhilarating black(end) metal. As components of Ten, however their integration can lead to a tonally mixed bag.

Paths to Deliverance tease with moments of greatness, but squander their potential through messy execution and incoherent compositional choices. The trend begins instantly, as the mournful drama built so perfectly in opener “Ab Initio,” is hastily discarded in the jump to upbeat “Resonances,” vindicating anyone who’s ever argued the pointlessness of intros; but it’s worse, because “Ab Initio” is over three minutes long. Across Ten, we must witness Paths to Deliverance dampen the power of combined chilling atmospheres and thrilling riffs by burying them in what feels like filler that meanders (“Solitude,” “Alone in the Dark”) or pushing them to the final passage of a song, or indeed the album (“The Storm,” “Redemption”). There is an overabundance of directionless, restless addition—a new riff, a tempo change, a key change (“The Calm Before the Storm”)2, layered clean and growled vocals (“Solitude”), a vaguely pop-punk chorus (“Here Lies…”), horns (“Delirium”), chorals (“Redemption”). And as soon as that beautiful refrain develops, and those awesome drum fills propel the song into a blaze, and it seems like Ten might really be brilliant, the magic disappears as Paths to Deliverance show they’re more interested in shoving a different idea in your face (“Resonances,” “”Delirium”), or pulling the tremolos away in favour of about two minutes of completely disconnected acoustic plucking (“Reveries”).

It thus becomes difficult for Ten to be anything other than an awkwardly scattershot and unfocused listening experience. Each element is well-crafted, and there are passages of powerful and powerfully sinister meloblack strewn across Ten. The issue is that they are strewn, and not carefully placed. Why, for instance is “The Storm,” very possibly the best song, relegated almost to the very end, when the listener has long since lost patience for Paths to Deliverance’s self-indulgent tonal indecision. The drumming is consistently tight and excellently performed, but it can’t make up for what lacks in the songs it provides a skeleton for. Whilst things are manageable in the album’s early stages, the interminability of less interesting sections, and the restlessness with which Paths to Deliverance add and subtract ingredients only gets worse over its span.

Ten falls short of the promises that Paths to Deliverance made of it. Not because it is incompetent, but because it lacks focus. It’s only with hindsight that the red flag of the long and varied list of inspirations becomes obvious. The runtime and these inconsistency issues point to an inability to edit, which the blurb reflects. This doesn’t negate those numerous snippets that could, in isolation, appear on a great black metal album. It only makes them harder to appreciate without separation from the rest.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kb/s mp3
Label: Malpermesita Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 28th, 2025

#25 #2025 #BlackMetal #FrenchMetal #Gaerea #MalpermesitaRecords #Mar25 #MelodicBlackMetal #PathsToDeliverance #Review #Reviews #Ten

Paths to Deliverance – Ten Review

By Thus Spoke

Metal has long taken inspiration from the realms of horror, mysticism, and the occult. Paths to Deliverance adopt ideas from all three. Debut Ten, structured roughly around the bardo—the liminal experience leading from the point of death through to reincarnation—also borrows imagery and storytelling from “Edgar Allan Poe, Lovecraft, Clive Barker, Graham Masterton, and Stephen King, as well as […] Dante.” You would be justified in assuming this is a solo project, given its eclectic and lengthy blurb, but this is only partially true as progenitor A.S.A has recruited artists to fill every position other than his own vocal and bass duties.1 It is, of course, black metal—if the concept, the fact that it’s a solo project, and artwork weren’t a clue. Yet here again, Paths to Deliverance claim difference and particular fearfulness. Not trve or raw, but truly frightening, and deeply personal, if the promo material is to be believed.

Ten is a lengthy tale and like any story, has its ups and downs. However, these fluctuations cannot be attributed only to the concept that supposedly drives the music. Surrounding the peaks of ardour and vivacious, vitriolic riffdom is an odd nebulousness that drains the force from otherwise solid songs. This sense, which only builds over the runtime, contributes to the album’s lack of cohesive flow, and how it may yet contain greatness. Running through Ten is a powerful current of feeling, expressed primarily through a mournful, melodic black metal that sounds a lot like Gaerea in everything from the extended mini-catharses of rushing drums and urgent tremolos, to the very guitar tones and the way the howls and riffs echo brightly in the background (“Resonances,” “Alone in the Dark,” “Delirium,” “The Storm”). Right alongside this is a more belligerent blackened death, less concerned with atmosphere than with evoking the spirit of spiteful independence that eschews the vulnerability of that other, more melancholic style (“Solitude,” “The Calm Before the Storm”). And then there’s the vague integration of a raucous group-vocal attitude (“Delirium,” “Here Lies…”) and classical guitar (“Reveries,” “The Storm”). These approaches are not inherently contradictory, and allow Paths to Deliverance to demonstrate worthy aptitude for stirring and exhilarating black(end) metal. As components of Ten, however their integration can lead to a tonally mixed bag.

Paths to Deliverance tease with moments of greatness, but squander their potential through messy execution and incoherent compositional choices. The trend begins instantly, as the mournful drama built so perfectly in opener “Ab Initio,” is hastily discarded in the jump to upbeat “Resonances,” vindicating anyone who’s ever argued the pointlessness of intros; but it’s worse, because “Ab Initio” is over three minutes long. Across Ten, we must witness Paths to Deliverance dampen the power of combined chilling atmospheres and thrilling riffs by burying them in what feels like filler that meanders (“Solitude,” “Alone in the Dark”) or pushing them to the final passage of a song, or indeed the album (“The Storm,” “Redemption”). There is an overabundance of directionless, restless addition—a new riff, a tempo change, a key change (“The Calm Before the Storm”)2, layered clean and growled vocals (“Solitude”), a vaguely pop-punk chorus (“Here Lies…”), horns (“Delirium”), chorals (“Redemption”). And as soon as that beautiful refrain develops, and those awesome drum fills propel the song into a blaze, and it seems like Ten might really be brilliant, the magic disappears as Paths to Deliverance show they’re more interested in shoving a different idea in your face (“Resonances,” “”Delirium”), or pulling the tremolos away in favour of about two minutes of completely disconnected acoustic plucking (“Reveries”).

It thus becomes difficult for Ten to be anything other than an awkwardly scattershot and unfocused listening experience. Each element is well-crafted, and there are passages of powerful and powerfully sinister meloblack strewn across Ten. The issue is that they are strewn, and not carefully placed. Why, for instance is “The Storm,” very possibly the best song, relegated almost to the very end, when the listener has long since lost patience for Paths to Deliverance’s self-indulgent tonal indecision. The drumming is consistently tight and excellently performed, but it can’t make up for what lacks in the songs it provides a skeleton for. Whilst things are manageable in the album’s early stages, the interminability of less interesting sections, and the restlessness with which Paths to Deliverance add and subtract ingredients only gets worse over its span.

Ten falls short of the promises that Paths to Deliverance made of it. Not because it is incompetent, but because it lacks focus. It’s only with hindsight that the red flag of the long and varied list of inspirations becomes obvious. The runtime and these inconsistency issues point to an inability to edit, which the blurb reflects. This doesn’t negate those numerous snippets that could, in isolation, appear on a great black metal album. It only makes them harder to appreciate without separation from the rest.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kb/s mp3
Label: Malpermesita Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 28th, 2025

#25 #2025 #BlackMetal #FrenchMetal #Gaerea #MalpermesitaRecords #Mar25 #MelodicBlackMetal #PathsToDeliverance #Review #Reviews #Ten

Paths to Deliverance – Ten Review

By Thus Spoke

Metal has long taken inspiration from the realms of horror, mysticism, and the occult. Paths to Deliverance adopt ideas from all three. Debut Ten, structured roughly around the bardo—the liminal experience leading from the point of death through to reincarnation—also borrows imagery and storytelling from “Edgar Allan Poe, Lovecraft, Clive Barker, Graham Masterton, and Stephen King, as well as […] Dante.” You would be justified in assuming this is a solo project, given its eclectic and lengthy blurb, but this is only partially true as progenitor A.S.A has recruited artists to fill every position other than his own vocal and bass duties.1 It is, of course, black metal—if the concept, the fact that it’s a solo project, and artwork weren’t a clue. Yet here again, Paths to Deliverance claim difference and particular fearfulness. Not trve or raw, but truly frightening, and deeply personal, if the promo material is to be believed.

Ten is a lengthy tale and like any story, has its ups and downs. However, these fluctuations cannot be attributed only to the concept that supposedly drives the music. Surrounding the peaks of ardour and vivacious, vitriolic riffdom is an odd nebulousness that drains the force from otherwise solid songs. This sense, which only builds over the runtime, contributes to the album’s lack of cohesive flow, and how it may yet contain greatness. Running through Ten is a powerful current of feeling, expressed primarily through a mournful, melodic black metal that sounds a lot like Gaerea in everything from the extended mini-catharses of rushing drums and urgent tremolos, to the very guitar tones and the way the howls and riffs echo brightly in the background (“Resonances,” “Alone in the Dark,” “Delirium,” “The Storm”). Right alongside this is a more belligerent blackened death, less concerned with atmosphere than with evoking the spirit of spiteful independence that eschews the vulnerability of that other, more melancholic style (“Solitude,” “The Calm Before the Storm”). And then there’s the vague integration of a raucous group-vocal attitude (“Delirium,” “Here Lies…”) and classical guitar (“Reveries,” “The Storm”). These approaches are not inherently contradictory, and allow Paths to Deliverance to demonstrate worthy aptitude for stirring and exhilarating black(end) metal. As components of Ten, however their integration can lead to a tonally mixed bag.

Paths to Deliverance tease with moments of greatness, but squander their potential through messy execution and incoherent compositional choices. The trend begins instantly, as the mournful drama built so perfectly in opener “Ab Initio,” is hastily discarded in the jump to upbeat “Resonances,” vindicating anyone who’s ever argued the pointlessness of intros; but it’s worse, because “Ab Initio” is over three minutes long. Across Ten, we must witness Paths to Deliverance dampen the power of combined chilling atmospheres and thrilling riffs by burying them in what feels like filler that meanders (“Solitude,” “Alone in the Dark”) or pushing them to the final passage of a song, or indeed the album (“The Storm,” “Redemption”). There is an overabundance of directionless, restless addition—a new riff, a tempo change, a key change (“The Calm Before the Storm”)2, layered clean and growled vocals (“Solitude”), a vaguely pop-punk chorus (“Here Lies…”), horns (“Delirium”), chorals (“Redemption”). And as soon as that beautiful refrain develops, and those awesome drum fills propel the song into a blaze, and it seems like Ten might really be brilliant, the magic disappears as Paths to Deliverance show they’re more interested in shoving a different idea in your face (“Resonances,” “”Delirium”), or pulling the tremolos away in favour of about two minutes of completely disconnected acoustic plucking (“Reveries”).

It thus becomes difficult for Ten to be anything other than an awkwardly scattershot and unfocused listening experience. Each element is well-crafted, and there are passages of powerful and powerfully sinister meloblack strewn across Ten. The issue is that they are strewn, and not carefully placed. Why, for instance is “The Storm,” very possibly the best song, relegated almost to the very end, when the listener has long since lost patience for Paths to Deliverance’s self-indulgent tonal indecision. The drumming is consistently tight and excellently performed, but it can’t make up for what lacks in the songs it provides a skeleton for. Whilst things are manageable in the album’s early stages, the interminability of less interesting sections, and the restlessness with which Paths to Deliverance add and subtract ingredients only gets worse over its span.

Ten falls short of the promises that Paths to Deliverance made of it. Not because it is incompetent, but because it lacks focus. It’s only with hindsight that the red flag of the long and varied list of inspirations becomes obvious. The runtime and these inconsistency issues point to an inability to edit, which the blurb reflects. This doesn’t negate those numerous snippets that could, in isolation, appear on a great black metal album. It only makes them harder to appreciate without separation from the rest.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kb/s mp3
Label: Malpermesita Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 28th, 2025

#25 #2025 #BlackMetal #FrenchMetal #Gaerea #MalpermesitaRecords #Mar25 #MelodicBlackMetal #PathsToDeliverance #Review #Reviews #Ten

Paths to Deliverance – Ten Review

By Thus Spoke

Metal has long taken inspiration from the realms of horror, mysticism, and the occult. Paths to Deliverance adopt ideas from all three. Debut Ten, structured roughly around the bardo—the liminal experience leading from the point of death through to reincarnation—also borrows imagery and storytelling from “Edgar Allan Poe, Lovecraft, Clive Barker, Graham Masterton, and Stephen King, as well as […] Dante.” You would be justified in assuming this is a solo project, given its eclectic and lengthy blurb, but this is only partially true as progenitor A.S.A has recruited artists to fill every position other than his own vocal and bass duties.1 It is, of course, black metal—if the concept, the fact that it’s a solo project, and artwork weren’t a clue. Yet here again, Paths to Deliverance claim difference and particular fearfulness. Not trve or raw, but truly frightening, and deeply personal, if the promo material is to be believed.

Ten is a lengthy tale and like any story, has its ups and downs. However, these fluctuations cannot be attributed only to the concept that supposedly drives the music. Surrounding the peaks of ardour and vivacious, vitriolic riffdom is an odd nebulousness that drains the force from otherwise solid songs. This sense, which only builds over the runtime, contributes to the album’s lack of cohesive flow, and how it may yet contain greatness. Running through Ten is a powerful current of feeling, expressed primarily through a mournful, melodic black metal that sounds a lot like Gaerea in everything from the extended mini-catharses of rushing drums and urgent tremolos, to the very guitar tones and the way the howls and riffs echo brightly in the background (“Resonances,” “Alone in the Dark,” “Delirium,” “The Storm”). Right alongside this is a more belligerent blackened death, less concerned with atmosphere than with evoking the spirit of spiteful independence that eschews the vulnerability of that other, more melancholic style (“Solitude,” “The Calm Before the Storm”). And then there’s the vague integration of a raucous group-vocal attitude (“Delirium,” “Here Lies…”) and classical guitar (“Reveries,” “The Storm”). These approaches are not inherently contradictory, and allow Paths to Deliverance to demonstrate worthy aptitude for stirring and exhilarating black(end) metal. As components of Ten, however their integration can lead to a tonally mixed bag.

Paths to Deliverance tease with moments of greatness, but squander their potential through messy execution and incoherent compositional choices. The trend begins instantly, as the mournful drama built so perfectly in opener “Ab Initio,” is hastily discarded in the jump to upbeat “Resonances,” vindicating anyone who’s ever argued the pointlessness of intros; but it’s worse, because “Ab Initio” is over three minutes long. Across Ten, we must witness Paths to Deliverance dampen the power of combined chilling atmospheres and thrilling riffs by burying them in what feels like filler that meanders (“Solitude,” “Alone in the Dark”) or pushing them to the final passage of a song, or indeed the album (“The Storm,” “Redemption”). There is an overabundance of directionless, restless addition—a new riff, a tempo change, a key change (“The Calm Before the Storm”)2, layered clean and growled vocals (“Solitude”), a vaguely pop-punk chorus (“Here Lies…”), horns (“Delirium”), chorals (“Redemption”). And as soon as that beautiful refrain develops, and those awesome drum fills propel the song into a blaze, and it seems like Ten might really be brilliant, the magic disappears as Paths to Deliverance show they’re more interested in shoving a different idea in your face (“Resonances,” “”Delirium”), or pulling the tremolos away in favour of about two minutes of completely disconnected acoustic plucking (“Reveries”).

It thus becomes difficult for Ten to be anything other than an awkwardly scattershot and unfocused listening experience. Each element is well-crafted, and there are passages of powerful and powerfully sinister meloblack strewn across Ten. The issue is that they are strewn, and not carefully placed. Why, for instance is “The Storm,” very possibly the best song, relegated almost to the very end, when the listener has long since lost patience for Paths to Deliverance’s self-indulgent tonal indecision. The drumming is consistently tight and excellently performed, but it can’t make up for what lacks in the songs it provides a skeleton for. Whilst things are manageable in the album’s early stages, the interminability of less interesting sections, and the restlessness with which Paths to Deliverance add and subtract ingredients only gets worse over its span.

Ten falls short of the promises that Paths to Deliverance made of it. Not because it is incompetent, but because it lacks focus. It’s only with hindsight that the red flag of the long and varied list of inspirations becomes obvious. The runtime and these inconsistency issues point to an inability to edit, which the blurb reflects. This doesn’t negate those numerous snippets that could, in isolation, appear on a great black metal album. It only makes them harder to appreciate without separation from the rest.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kb/s mp3
Label: Malpermesita Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 28th, 2025

#25 #2025 #BlackMetal #FrenchMetal #Gaerea #MalpermesitaRecords #Mar25 #MelodicBlackMetal #PathsToDeliverance #Review #Reviews #Ten

Stuck in the Filter: October 2024’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

Never fear, the blog’s penchant for deep lateness punctuality persists! It is likely the new year already by the time you see this post, but we’re taking a step back. Way back, into October. I was deep in the shit then, and therefore couldn’t do anything blog-related. And yet, my minions, those very laborers for whom I provide absolutely no compensation whatsoever, toiled dutifully in the metallic dinge that is our Filter. Unforgiving though those environs undoubtedly are, they scraped and scoured until, at long last, small shards of precious ore glimmered to the surface.

These glimmers are the same which you witness before you. Some are big, some are small. Some are short, some are tall. But all are worthy. Behold!

Kenstrosity’s Belated Bombardments

Cosmic Putrefaction // Emerald Fires atop the Farewell Mountains [October 4th, 2024 – Profound Lore Records]

I was originally slated to take over reviewing duties for Cosmic Putrefaction this year, as Thus Spoke had a prior commitment and needed a buddy to step in. Unfortunately, I was rendered useless by a force of nature for a while, so I had to let go of several items of interest. But I couldn’t let 2024 go by without saying something! Entitled Emeral Fires atop the Farewell Mountains, Cosmic Putrefaction’s fourth represents one of the smoothest, most ethereal interpretations of weird, dissonant death metal. The classic Cosmic Putrefaction riffsets under an auroric sky remain, as evidenced by ripping examples “[Entering the Vortex Temporum] – Pre-mortem Phosphenes” and “Swirling Madness, Supernal Ordeal,” but there lurks within a monstrous technical death metal creature who rabidly chases the atmospheric spirits of olde (“I Should Great the Inexorable Darkness,” “Eudaemonist Withdrawal”). While in lesser hands these distinct aesthetics would undoubtedly clash on a dissonant platform such as this, Cosmic Putrefaction’s particular application of sound and style coalesces in devastating beauty and relentless purpose (“Hallways Engraved in Aether,” “Emerald Fires atop the Farewell Mountains”). Were it not for some instances wherein, for the first time ever, Cosmic Putrefaction threatens to self-plagiarize their own material (“Eudaemonist Withdrawal”), I would likely consider Emerald Fires atop the Farewell Mountains for year-end list status.

Feral // To Usurp the Thrones [October 18th, 2024 – Transcending Obscurity Records]

Another one of my charges that I unfortunately had to put down against my will, Swedish death metal fiends Feral’s fourth salvo To Usurp the Thrones deserves a spotlight here. Where Flesh for Funerals Eternal impressed me as my introduction to the band and, arguably, my introduction to modern buzzsaw Swedeath, To Usurp the Thrones impresses me as a singularly vicious record in the style. Faster, meaner, more varied, and longer than its predecessor, Thrones offers the punk-tinged, thrashy death riffs you know and love, with bluesy touches reminiscent of Entombed’s Wolverine Blues adding a bit of drunken swagger to the affair (“Vile Malediction,” “Phantoms of Iniquity,” “Into the Ashes of History”). Absolute rippers like “To Drain the World of Light,” “Deformed Mentality,” “Decimated,” and “Soaked in Blood” live up to the band’s moniker, rabid and relentless in their assault. In many ways, Thrones evokes the same bloodsoaked sense of fun that Helslave’s From the Sulphur Depths conjured, but it’s angrier, more unhinged (“Spirits Without Rest,” “Stripped of Flesh”). Consequently, Thrones stands out as one of the more fun records of its ilk to come out this year. Don’t miss it!

Sun Worship // Upon the Hills of Divination [October 31st, 2024 – Vendetta Records]

Back in 2020, our dear Roquentin offered some damn fine words of praise for Germany’s Sun Worship and their third blackened blade, Emanations of Desolation. It’s been six years since that record dropped, and Upon the Hills of Divination picks up right where Emanations left off. That is to say, absolutely slimy, post-metal-tinged riffs bolstered by dense layers of warm tremolos and mid-frequency roars. Opener “Within the Machine” offers a concrete encapsulation of what to expect: bits and pieces of Hulder, Gaerea, and Vorga melding together into a compelling concoction of hypnotic black metal. Using the long form to their utmost advantage, Sun Worship craft immersive soundscapes liable to scald the flesh just as quickly as they seduce the senses, leaving me as a brainwashed minion doing a twisted mystic’s bidding unconditionally (“Serpent Nebula,” “Covenant”). Yet, there roils a sense of urgency in these songs, despite many of them occupying a mid-paced cadence, which unveils a bleeding heart willingly wrenched from Sun Worship’s body (“Fractal Entity,” the title track, and “Stormbringer”). This is what sets it apart from its contemporaries, and what makes it worthy of mention. Why it’s gotten so little attention escapes me. It is with the intent of rectifying that condition that I pen this woefully insufficient segment.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Duty Free Rifftrocity

Extorted // Cognitive Dissonance [October 16th, 2024 – Self Release]

You don’t need to read this review to know that the Kiwis of Extorted plays pit-whipping death/thrash. Though not adorned with other obvious symbols, like Vietnam War paraphernalia or crushed beer cans, the Ed Repka-penned brain-ripped head figure screams “no thoughts only riff” all the same. With snares set to pow and crashes set to kshhh, Cognitive Dissonance finds low resistance to accelerating early Death-indebted refrains. Vocalist Joel Clark even plays as a dead ringer for pre-Human Schuldiner or Van Drunen (Asphyx, ex-Pestilence) as the torture in many lines grows (on “Infected” and “Ghastly Creatures” in particular). And in a continued tour of Van Drunen-associated sounds, Extorted’s ability to find a push-and-pull cadence that twists the fury of thrash with the cutting drag of death hits that hard-to-nail early Pestilence pocket with studied flair (“Deception,” “Limits of Reality”). Though a considerable amount of the Extorted identity rests in ideas borrowed and reinterpreted, a modern tonal canvas gives Cognitive Dissonance’s rhythms a punchy and balanced low-end weight that doesn’t always present itself in the world of old. Couple that with hooks that reach far beyond the limits of pure homage (“Transformation of Dreams,” “Violence”), and it’s easy to plow through the thirty minutes of tasteful harmonies, bending solos, and spit-stained lamentations that Extorted offers with their powerful debut.

Bríi // Camaradagem Póstuma [October 11th, 2024 – Self Release]

With Camaradagem Póstuma we enter the hazy, folky world of Caio Lemos’ unique vision of what experimental electronic music can be colored by the underpinnings of atmospheric black metal and jazz fusion. Using terraced melodies like baroque music of old and distant breakbeats like the Bong-Ra of recent yesteryears, Brazil’s Bríi represents one man’s highly specific melding that rarely occurs in this space. The guitar lines that do exist play out as textural, slow-developing passages. On tracks “Aparecidos” and “Baile Fantasma” this looping and hypnotic pattern shuffle resembles ambient Pat Metheny or King Crimson colors, the kind where finding the end of nylon pluck into a weaving, high-frequency synth patch feels not impossible but unnecessary. And on the more metallic side of things, Lemos cranks programmed blasts that carry his tortured, panning, and shrouded wails as a guide for the melodic evolution of each track, much in the same way a warping bass line would in a progressive house track. But maintaining the tempo of classic drum and bass, Camaradagem Póstuma wisps away in its atmosphere, coming back to a driving rhythm either via pummeling double kick or glitching break. Despite the hard, danceable pulse that tracks “Enlutados” and “Entre Mundos” boast, Bríi does not feel built for the kvlt klvbs of this world, leaning on a gated, lo-fi aesthetic that makes for an ideal drift away on closed cans, much like the equally idiosyncratic Wist album from earlier this year. And similarly, Camaradagem Póstuma sits in an outsider world of enjoyment. But if any of this sounds like your jam, prepare to get addicted to Bríi.

Thus Spoke’s Rotten Remnants

Livløs // The Crescent King [October 4th, 2024 – Noctum Productions]

Livløs are one of those bands that deserves far more recognition than they receive. With LP three, The Crescent King, they might finally see it. Their punchy intriguing infusion of Swedish and US melodic death metal—though the band themselves hail from Denmark—has a pleasing melancholia and satisfying bite. Here in particular, there’s more than a passing resemblance to Hath, to Cognizance, and to In Mourning. Stomping grooves (“Maelstrom,” “Usurpers”) slide in between blitzes of tripping gallops, and electrifying fretwork (“Orbit Weaver,” “Scourge of the Stars”). Mournful, compelling melodies woven into this technical tapestry—some highlights being the title track, “Harvest,” and “Endless Majesty”—turn already good melodeath into great melodeath; melodeath that’s majestic and powerful, without ever feeling overblown. With its relentless, groovy dynamism, the crisp, spacious production seals the deal for total immersion. If this is your first time hearing about Livløs, you’re in for a treat.

Sordide // Ainsi finit le jour [October 25th, 2024 – Les Acteurs de l’Ombre Productions]

And So Ends the Day, whilst another begins where I rediscover Sordide. I know not how I forgot their existence despite the impression that 2021’s Les Idées Blanches made upon me, yet all I could recall was the disturbingly simple, melty art.1 Ainsi Finit le Jour arrives with a hefty dose (53 minutes no less) of punky, dissonant black metal that’s even rawer and more pissed-off than their usual fare. “Des feux plus forts,” “La poesie du caniveau,” and the title track stand out as the most vicious, near-first-wave cuts the trio have ever laid down, with manic, group wails, and chaotic, jangling percussion. But as is so often the case with Sordide, perhaps the truest brutality comes in the slower discordant crawls of “Sous Vivre,” “Tout est a la mort,” and the particularly unsettling “La beauté du desastre,” whose creeping, half-tuneful teasing and turns to eerie spaciousness get right under your skin. It is arguably a little too long for its own good, given its intensity, but its impressiveness does mean that, this time, Sordide won’t be forgotten.

Dear Hollow’s Droll Hashals

Annihilist // Reform [October 18th, 2024 – Self Release]

What Melbourne’s Annihilist does with flamboyant flare and reckless abandon is blur the lines of its core stylistic choices. One moment it’s chugging away like a deathcore band, the next it’s dripping away with a groove metal swagger, ope, now it’s on its way to Hot Topic. All we know is that all its members attack with a chameleonic intensity and otherworldly technicality that’s hard to pin down. An insane level of technicality is the thread that courses throughout the entirety of this debut, recalling Within the Ruins or The Human Abstract in its stuttering rhythms and flailing arpeggios. From catchy leads and punishing rhythms (“The Upsend,” “Guillotine”), bouncy breakdowns, clean choruses, and wild gang vocals (“Blood”), djenty guitar seizures (“Virus,” “Better Off”) to full-on groove (“N.M.E.,” “The Host”), the likes of Lamb of God, early Architects, Born of Osiris, and Children of Bodom are conjured. Lyrics of hardcore punk’s signature anarchy and societal distrust collide with an instrumental palette of melodeath and the more technical kin of metalcore and deathcore, groove metal, and hardcore. As such, the album is complicated, episodic, and unpredictable, with only its wild technicality connecting its fragmented bits – keeping Reform from achieving the greatness that the band is so capable of. As it stands, though, Annihilist offers an insanely fun, everchanging, and unhinged roller coaster of -core proportions – a roller -corester, if you will.

Under Alekhines Gun

Theurgy // Emanations of Unconscious Luminescence [October 17th, 2024 – New Standard Elite]

In a year where slam and brutal death have already had an atypically high-quality output, international outfit Theurgy have come with an RKO out of nowhere to shatter whatever remains of your cerebral cortex. Channeling the flamboyancy of old Analepsy with the snare abuse and neanderthalic glee of Epicardiectomy, Emanations of Unconscious Luminescence wastes no time severing vertebrae and reducing eardrums to paste. Don’t mistake this for a brainless, caveman assault, however. Peppered between the hammiest of hammers are tech flourishes pulled straight from Dingir era Rings of Saturn, adding an unexpected technical edge to the blunt force trauma. The production manages to pair these two disparaging elements with lethal efficiency. Is it the techiest slam album, or the wettest, greasiest tech album? Did I mention there’s a super moldy cover of Devourment‘s “Molesting the Decapitated”? It slots right into the albums flow without feeling like a tacked-on bonus track, highlighting Theurgy’s commitment to the homicidal odes of brutality. Throw in a vocal performance that makes Angel Ochoa (Abominable Putridity) sound like Anders Fridén (In Flames), and you’re left with one last lethal assault to round out the year. Dive in and give your luminescence something to cry about.

GardensTale’s Great Glacier

Ghosts of Glaciers // Eternal [October 25th, 2024 – Translation Loss Records]

Ghosts of Glaciers’s last release, The Greatest Burden, was a masterclass of post-metal flow and has become a mainstay in my instrumental metal collection since my review in 2019. Dropping in tandem with several other high-profile releases, though, I could not give its follow-up the kind of attention it deserves. And make no mistake, it absolutely deserves that attention. The opening duo, “The Vast Expanse” and “Sunken Chamber,” measure up fully to The Greatest Burden, though it takes a few spins for that to become clear. Both use repetitive patterns more than before, but closer listens reveal how subtle variations and evolution of each cycle build gradual tension, so the release becomes all the more satisfying. I’m a little more ambivalent on the back half of Eternal, though. “Leviathan” packs a bigger punch than more of the band’s material, it lacks the swirling and sweeping currents that pull me under and demand full and uninterrupted plays every time. Closer “Regeneratio Aeterna” is a pretty but rather demure piece that lasts a bit longer than it should have. But despite these reservations, the great material outstrips the merely good, and Eternal is a worthwhile addition to any instrumental metal collection.

#AbominablePutridity #AinsiFinitLeJour #AmericanMetal #Analepsy #Annihilist #Architects #Asphyx #AtmosphericBlackMetal #AustralianMetal #BlackMetal #BongRa #BornOfOsiris #BrazilianMetal #Bríi #BrutalDeathMetal #CamaradagemPóstuma #ChildrenOfBodom #CognitiveDissonance #Cognizance #CosmicPutrefaction #Death #DeathMetal #DeathThrash #Deathcore #Devourment #DissonantBlackMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #Electronic #EmanationsOfUnconsciousLuminescence #EmeralFiresAtopTheFarewellMountains #Entombed #Epicardiectomy #Eternal #ExperimentalMetal #Extorted #Feral #FrenchMetal #Gaerea #GermanMetal #GhostsOfGlaciers #GrooveMetal #Hardcore #HardcorePunk #Hath #Helslave #Hulder #InFlames #InMourning #InternationalMetal #ItalianMetal #KingCrimson #LambOfGod #LesActeursDeLOmbreProductions #Livløs #MelodicDeathMetal #Metalcore #NewStandardElite #NewZealandMetal #NoctumProductions #OSDM #PatMetheny #Pestilence #PostBlackMetal #PostMetal #ProfoundLoreRecords #Reform #RingsOfSaturn #SelfRelease #SelfReleased #Slam #Sordide #SunWorship #SwedishMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheCrescentKing #TheHumanAbstract #Theurgy #ThrashMetal #ToUsurpTheThrones #TranscendingObscurityRecords #TranslationLossRecords #UponTheHillsOfDivination #VendettaRecords #VertebraAtlantis #Vorga #Wist #WithinTheRuins

Thus Spoke and Maddog’s Top Ten(ish) of 2024

By Steel Druhm

Thus Spoke

My second AMG End-of-Year piece?! Didn’t I just get here? This is my typical reaction to life’s happenings. I’m blindsided by everything. You’ll probably notice that many of the below list entries ‘snuck up on me’ in how much I liked them, compared to everything else. The fact that we’re now halfway through the 2020s makes me feel a bit nauseous. I keep telling people I ‘just moved’ into the home I bought this year, but I’ve been in it since April. And that huge milestone—for which I feel immensely grateful and privileged to have achieved this side of 30—would have solely dominated my year were it not for two other facts: 1) I was finally diagnosed with and very recently started medication for ADHD; 2) 2024 has got to have been the strongest year of the decade so far for metal. So, time to talk about the music rather than myself.

My overoptimistic prediction that Ulcerate would release new music came true,1 and there was, in general, a particular influx of excellent material from the darker, more dissonant, and extreme sides of death and black metal. This was also the year I finally reconnected with my love of doom after a long period of lukewarm engagement. But I wouldn’t have known about half of it were it not for this gig, and the amazing people I share it with. Whether it was Dear Hollow, Kenstrosity, or Mystikus Hugebeard pinging across something they thought I might like, or a particularly potent review penned by a colleague, a commenter chipping in with some gem, or the group buzz around an album I might otherwise never have considered, there’s no better place to find and discuss metal. And speaking of community, if I ever needed a confirmation that this right here is the loveliest place on the internet, the rallying response to Ken‘s plight earlier this year from staff and readers was it.2 I couldn’t ask for better company.

I said as much last year, but I’ll probably say it every year: having this opportunity is wild and I feel so blessed. To be able to send my thoughts about music into the world where people read and consider them, that’s mad. Bumping into an AMG fan in the wild was also an affirming and heartwarming experience reminding me that there are actually real people out there who know who we are; and let me say, however enthusiastic and grateful you might be for us, the feeling is mutual. So to everyone reading this, to all the folks at AMG who make it possible for me to continually wax lyrical about stuff I love (and stuff I don’t love so much) and put up with all my overrating, to all of you: thank you. Shout out also to my list buddy Maddog, whose EOY write-up is bound to be more br00tal and much less flowery than mine, and whose in-person company I continue to have the pleasure of enjoying whenever he deigns to visit our little island up here. Oh, and thank you to the original creator and to Kenstrosity for my new avatar! I asked and you delivered. And if you actually read this far down, thank you for indulging me. But now, finally, it’s list time.

#ish. Pillar of Light // Caldera – I unintentionally ended my reviewing year on a high with Pillar of Light. Or perhaps a low, if we consider mood. When a record evokes a genuine emotional response in me,3 as Caldera does, it deserves more than an Honorable Mention. So here it is. It’s one of those albums you experience that forever afterward remains tied to your particular life situation when you were first immersed, and for that reason, its longevity is increased and its impact amplified. Given how “Leaving” and “Infernal Gaze” leave me in pieces, it’s probably a good thing the misery comes down from 11 at other times. But on the next album, who knows? I’ll be ready at least.

#10. Replicant // Infinite Mortality – Much like Kenstrosity, author of the review, I have not historically been Replicant’s hugest fan. For some reason their music never stuck with me; I just didn’t get it. Infinite Mortality has been the enlightenment I needed. It’s undeniably fantastic. Brilliantly technical and ruthlessly efficient in execution, it manages to also be ridiculously groovy in a way that you wouldn’t expect from this flavor of extreme death metal. Suited, evidently, to desk sessions and gym sessions alike, given the range of play it got from me since its release, its balance of skronk and style proved why I should, long ago, have been paying attention to Replicant. Ken himself struggled to find a negative and so do I. Even interlude “SCN9A” is great, especially as it leads into monster “Pain Enduring.” Only the superlative strength of other contenders causes this to fall so low on the list.

#9. ColdCell // Age of Unreason – In a rare case of me underrating something, my review of Age of Unreason did not quite do justice to its strength. Not only have I revisited it often, but I have of late been struck ever deeper by its profundity. The honest, vulnerable lamentations on inequality (“Solidarity or Solitude”), hatred (“Discord”), and human selfishness (“Dead to the World”) go far beyond a jaded misanthropy and strike a real chord. In wrapping this up in an insidiously simple package of compelling, devastating black metal with a distinctive voice, ColdCell have made, I now recognize, a true masterpiece. Brutal in its own way, and beautiful in many more, this is a record I hardly realized had made such a strong impact on me until I saw just how many times I’d spun it. This year may have seen black metal that goes harder, or with more powerful atmospheres, but none that are as memorable as Age of Unreason.

#8. Spectral Voice // Sparagmos – What a behemoth. It’s hard to believe that—just for a little while—Sparagmos slipped my mind many months after its February release. Relistening brought it all back into horrifying clarity. This record throws a veil over the sun, stares at you with unseeing, ecstatic eyes of Dionysian worship, and forces you into terrified awe. I’m still blown away by how crushingly heavy and immersive it is; how it still manages to blindside me with sudden turns from ominous crawling into chaotic, chthonic tremolos and clustered, hideous vocals. A masterclass in patient, predatory ambush. Nothing else this year was like it, which is partially why I’ve had to return so often to its dark embrace. Every nightmarish track was at some point in the runnings for the Song of the Year playlist. In the end, only one could make it, and it is, as I said in my review, “as inexorable as death.”

#7. Hamferð // Men Guðs hond er sterk – I’m surprised as well. Before Men Guðs hond er sterk, I had never laid ears on Hamferð and I was quite stunned to find how instantly I loved them. It’s not often an album by a band you’d previously never spent time with claims a spot on your year-end list after one listen, but this was one of those rare occasions. Something about the sorrowful, yet also soaring, melodies delivered through the interplays of resonant chords and gentle plucks, and between caustic growls and clear, ardent cleans just transports me. I feel the solemnity, the fear, and the grief in alternately forceful and graceful heaviness thanks to these intricately woven compositions and ardent performances that make the fact the lyrics are all in Faroese completely irrelevant. And Hamferð cover breadth with such ease, the slowly rolling wave of doom rising with tremolos into new intensity; and yet still controlled, still patient. The closer and it’s sample used to bother me, but I’m long past that now. In short, as the Angry Metal Guy himself said, “the record’s flow is impeccable,” and “the writing is subtle but addictive”. He’s not kidding about that last part, I really can’t stop listening to it.

#6. Föhn // Condescending – I was not prepared for what Condescending would do to me. Like any funeral doom worth its salt, it’s massive, but its presence is not smothering, it does not suffocate. Instead, it dampens the sound of anything else, so that the lugubrious chords, vocals, and fraught, lamenting refrains reverberate inside your mind, alone. This presence is redoubled by the heart-rending devastation of the compositions it centers—lyrically and musically. Bleakly beautiful, crushing doom in all its low, slow, cavernous hell leads you into an almost blissful moroseness, just in time for the veil to tear and your spirit to crumble as haunting melodies spill in from impossibly delicate sources of saxophone, synth, or ringing strings. Condescending will not leave my mind, and as broken and misty-eyed as these songs make me—”A Day After” and “Persona” especially—I’ll keep returning to experience it again and again. Maybe I can only speak for myself; maybe you’re sensing a theme wherein I like albums that make me feel sad. Whatever the case, Föhn took my breath away, and I don’t want it back.

#5. Cave Sermon // Divine Laughter – It’s pretty irresponsible of me to put this in the list at all, let alone in this position, considering how late in the day I discovered it. But I’m not really known for being ‘responsible’ around these parts, so, what the hell. What some might pigeonhole as just wonky death metal, or blackened post-hardcore—or even post-metal, as Metal Archives confusingly stamp it—is really much more complex, deep, and unique. Gripping and strange, in a way that struck me on my very first listen, Divine Laughter is responsible for me going from never having heard of Cave Sermon to being an ardent fan in one afternoon. Every listen gives me my new favorite part and uncovers more and more of its treasures. Savage and beautiful and with unnervingly easy flow, large parts of it are total perfection (“Liquid Gol, “The Paint of An Invader”). I cannot get enough. It’s so good, actually, that it’s made me feel a bit anxious about how much I’ve still missed this year, though I am very glad that this made it to my ears, even at the 11th hour. Divine Laughter is simply one of the greatest things I’ve heard in 2024, and it’s a crime that more people aren’t talking about it.

#4. Devenial Verdict // Blessing of Despair – I was waiting for Blessing of Despair since January, and as it always is with things we have high expectations for, part of me was preparing for disappointment. That preparation proved unnecessary once I finally got my hands on this in the Autumn. Devenial Verdict delivered. This time, they amped up all their unique little idiosyncrasies that made me fall in love with Ash Blind, and added a criminally heavy helping of groove. This thing is atmospheric and punchy, providing soundscapes that are just as haunting and mysterious(TM) as they are stomping and cutthroat. Either way, these riffs will make you shiver. “Garden of Eyes”! “Solus”! Ahhhh! Even “Counting Silence” and “A Curse Made Flesh,” which I initially dismissed as a little understated, have this delicious melancholic presence I just want to be immersed in 24/7. Devenial Verdict’s slick mixture of mournful melody and menacing, barked growls; neck-snapping flicks of cymbal, and those resonant, aggressive chord progressions make for—almost—my favorite take on death metal that exists. The sole reason Blessing of Despair wasn’t my most-played album of 2024 is that I only started in September.4

#3. Selbst // Despondency Chord Progressions – Back in 2017 or so, I was struck by what at the time I considered the most gorgeous opening guitar on any song ever. It was “…Of Solitary Ramblings,” the first track on Selbst’s self-titled debut.5 From that day forward I was enamoured. The undercurrents of lamenting melodrama and a black metal interwoven with a distinctive style of flowing, weeping strums continue to make Selbst very special. But if I had thought that their depths of emotional poignancy and stirring, multi-layered compositions had been reached, Despondency Chord Progressions showed they had not. Cleans that some wrote off as unsavory, rather bring—in my opinion—a new vulnerability, and their rawness compounds the pathos of already intensely cathartic compositions. The album’s title is, as I noted, an apt descriptor for the musical themes, but really undersells the cry of grief and despair that erupts from the music with every shuddering, tremolo-shaken, surge and every plaintive, somber quietude. I stand by what I said back in April, that “[t]his is black metal at its most stirring, entrancingly beautiful, and existentially affecting.” The sheer magnitude of its impassioned peaks (“Third World Wretchedness,” “Between Seclusion and Obsession”) and the sting of its humanity (“When true Loneliness is Experienced,” “Chant of Self Confrontation”) are like nothing else in the genre.

#2. Amiensus // Reclamation [Parts 1 & 2] – Take it up in the comments if you think this is cheating; Reclamation is one work in my eyes. And what a masterpiece. Each part a gorgeous, immersive side of one breathtaking journey that is best experienced together. I remain stunned by Amiensus’ mastery of musical storytelling through a flowing, intricate soundscape—at turns triumphant (“Vermillion Fog of War,” “Sólfarið”), sorrowful (“Reverie,” “Leprosarium”), and always stirring. Everything about Reclamation is graceful, which is another part of its magic because it’s not as though Amiensus left the black metal behind. Rather they seem to have found the deepest essence of the genre’s unique propensity for raw emotional expression, and moulded its elements into what is hands-down the most beautiful thing I’ve heard at least this year. It is, as I noted in my write-up of Part 1, a distillation of pure joy, and uplifting no matter how wistful (“Sun and Moon”), or suffused with bittersweet longing (“A Consciousness Throughout Time,” “Acquiescence”). And with so much of it—albeit, a time that flashes by with thrilling speed—it’s impossible not to get lost in. “Sun and Moon” was so close to being my favorite song of 2024, and in another year, it would have been. For that matter, in another year Reclamation itself would have claimed the top spot on this list.

#1. Ulcerate // Cutting the Throat of God – What else could it have been? I worry that by this point I may have used up all of the words that are possible to describe this pinnacle of excellence. In reality, though, I’m not sure I even have the words to express it in the first place, not for lack of trying. Ulcerate have long been a behemoth in their realm within the larger world of death metal, but while distinctive, they have never settled, continually carving up the template of dissonance with varyingly-sized blades of atmosphere and melody, moving between their most barbed and chaotic (Everything is Fire) to their most somber and moody (The Destroyers of All) in just one album. Later Shrines of Paralysis—my former favorite—saw a turn back towards the urgency and aggression, but with this new harmonic undercurrent in place. With hindsight, I can see now that the deeply atmospheric, disquieting Stare into Death and Be Still marked a turning point, paving the ground for what could be their magnum opus. Distilling the tension and the turmoil, into tidal forces of incredible rhythm, and dark, brilliant melody, with Cutting the Throat of God, Ulcerate reach transcendence. Dire (“The Dawn is Hollow”), deadly (“Transfiguration in and Out of Worlds”), devastating (“To See Death Just Once,” “Cutting the Throat of God”). Its intricacies only continue to reveal themselves to me; helped, no doubt, by a phenomenal live performance that bewitched me anew this October. I had to upgrade this album’s score to Iconic, because it is. This is atmospheric death metal perfected, and if genre-mates weren’t already looking in Ulcerate’s direction, there’s hardly any choice now. Cutting the Throat of God represents, in the greatest form, “the savagery, authenticity, and more recently, beauty that makes this icon of the dissonant death metal world who they are.”

Honorable Mentions:

Gaerea // Coma – Despite having calmed down considerably from my previous Gaerea overhype, there’s no denying that they’ve really got something. With a new vocalist, they retain their distinctively melodramatic and intense style, while incorporating a little more vulnerability via some genuinely really lovely cleans. A great record that just wasn’t great enough for the ridiculously high standard set by this year’s fare.

Eye Eater // Alienate – I am immensely grateful for Dolphin Whisperer for bringing this to my attention. Much of this album feels like it was written specifically for me, because it uses pretty much all of my favorite things in metal. It’s atmospheric and dissonant, like Ulcerate and others in that vein; it’s kind of post-death-y, and replete with minor melodies, and a particular kind of urgency my brain associates with specific kinds of ‘-core’. I just didn’t get quite enough time with it.

Songs of the Year

“To See Death Just Once” – Ulcerate

“Sun and Moon” – Amiensus

“Solus” – Devenial Verdict

“Terminal” – Vorga

“Third World Wretchedness” – Selbst

“The Paint of an Invader” – Cave Sermon

“A Day After” – Föhn

“Ábær” – Hamferð

“Inversion” – Endonomos

“Death’s Knell Rings in Eternity” – Spectral Voice

“Leaving” – Pillar of Light

Maddog

It’s been a weird year, and this is a weird list. Last December, I lamented the emotional hollowness of 2023’s metal output. If anything, 2024 fell even flatter. My most anticipated heavyweights were competent but inconsistent (Alcest, Julie Christmas), and few albums moved me. Unfazed, death metal picked up the slack and made this year a pleasure. Led by a flurry of excellent releases from genre titans, 2024 helped rekindle my love for cantankerous death metal.

Even so, the brutality of 2024’s output shocked me. Despite my worship of Suffocation and Dying Fetus, most brutal death metal releases of the last decade haven’t gripped me. But 2024 pulled me onto the brutal train with creativity and pizzazz. Both the techy and the knuckle-dragging corners of that subgenre thrived, including several artists that didn’t make my list (like Gigan, Iniquitous Savagery, and Nile). After tending toward more emotive music and other poseur nonsense in recent years, I took a long jump back in 2024.

As if that wasn’t enough, this was a banner year for dissonance. That’s a sentence I never expected to type; even dissonant death metal’s classics tend to be hit-or-miss with me. In 2024, the skronk finally broke through, aided by many avant-garde bands drifting toward a more accessible sound. This year’s screechy screeds were cogent enough to grab my arm and unhinged enough to rip it out of its socket. It’s been a jarring but eye-opening year.

This comment from the Brodequin review doubles as a summary of my 2024 music picks:

I wonder if I, we, they or all of us have a screw loose.

Heading into 2024, I craved immersive soundscapes and misty eyes. Instead, I was met with discordant gurgling. I didn’t expect it, but I don’t regret it.

#ish. Hypoxia // Defiance – Defiance never gets old. This old-school death metal behemoth has been around for ten months and hails from a subgenre that’s infamous for monotony. And yet, like Monstrosity’s best work, it blossoms on every spin. Defiance sports 2024’s fiercest harsh vocal performance, and riffwork so potent that it could revive the Selbst baby. I don’t have anything fancy to add, so I won’t try. Defiance is a rare death metal record that’s simple, thrilling, and well-written.

#10. Dawn Treader // Bloom & Decay – The thought sometimes crosses my mind: Why does atmospheric black metal even exist? The musical possibilities abound; who would pay $8 for tremolo scales recorded in a rest stop bathroom? Records like Bloom & Decay jolt me out of my pretension. Dawn Treader’s underground gem is both a product and a peddler of overpowering emotion. Ross Connell unleashes a tirade against violence and oppression using grief-stricken guitar melodies. On the flip side, Bloom & Decay’s heavy use of major keys—my second biggest fear—blurs the line between despair and tentative hope. Most impressive is the album’s flow, which Itchymenace described better than I ever could: “The majority of Bloom & Decay is instrumental, but you hardly notice because the music has such a storytelling quality.” Bloom & Decay’s 53-minute chokehold on my heart is ineffable but unyielding.

#9. Kanonenfieber // Die Urkatastrophe – Germany’s nameless Noise has built up a remarkable CV – 7 years, 3 bands, 8 albums. While I’ve often enjoyed his music, I never fell under his spell. Die Urkatastrophe was the last straw. A pacifist tirade told through first-person WWI vignettes, Die Urkatastrophe depicts nationalist violence and its aftermath. Armed with a sharp-edged blackened death foundation and surging chorus melodies, Kanonenfieber provides rewarding fodder even for unfeeling riff addicts. However, its excellence lies in its raw emotion. Both Noise’s lyrics and his songwriting embrace a “show, don’t tell” approach that brings the album to life. As the narrator’s cavalry offensive meets with a hilltop ambush in “Gott mit der Kavallerie,” Kanonenfieber’s upbeat riffs transform into a sudden dirge followed by frantic black metal. The epic “Waffenbrüder” evokes the wide-eyed optimism of childhood friends, the pride of enlisting, the tragedy of losing a companion, and the regrets of a life wasted. Die Urkatastrophe is both a transformative album and exemplary storytelling.

#8. Defeated Sanity // Chronicles of Lunacy – Chronicles of Lunacy is essential listening for any fans of extreme metal. Its greatest triumph is its fine mix of Defeated Sanity’s signature ingredients. Chronicles excels as pure brutal death metal through punishing caveman riffs and a tasteful dose of slam. Vaughn Stoffey’s guitars elevate this to an art form using wily fretboard acrobatics and seamless jazzy breaks. Led by kit-meister Lille Gruber, Defeated Sanity’s off-kilter rhythms and heavy syncopation miraculously aid the album’s staying power rather than hindering it. Put simply, Chronicles of Lunacy is 2024’s most vivid reminder of why I love death metal. I love its unforgiving brutality; I love its dazzling technicality; I love its groove; I love its genre-bending creative expression; I love its rhythmic feats of strength; I love its intellect; I love its idiocy. In other words, I love Defeated Sanity.

#7. Ulcerate // Cutting the Throat of God – It’s a match made in heaven: Cutting the Throat of God is Ulcerate for dummies, and I’m a dummy. Ulcerate continues to march toward more accessible ground, leaving behind the merciless dissonance of Everything is Fire. Powerful melodic themes peek through the chaos and take time to shine, offering both souvenirs and footholds. Despite Cutting’s lowbrow appeal, Ulcerate’s inimitable signature remains. Unease pervades the record, and Ulcerate’s cohesive songwriting transforms it from a concept to an emotion. In Thus Spoke’s words, Jamie Saint Merat’s drums are “more body than skeleton,” using their distinctive start-stop style to guide the mood. The album’s climaxes alone justify a purchase, as hypnotic melodies and frenzied dissonance coalesce into a tsunami. In short, Cutting the Throat of God captured both my brain and my heart.

#6. Hippotraktor // Stasis – I first heard about Belgium’s Hippotraktor from an insistent coworker, long before I discovered GardensTale’s well-worded underrating. Psychonaut meets Karnivool meets The Ocean meets Meshuggah in this pounding, beautiful prog/post adventure. Stasis’ hard-won achievement is that it navigates through disparate ideas with fluidity and flair. Psychonaut-drenched sludge forms a jagged backbone that sways between meditative and explosive. Meanwhile, Hippotraktor’s mastery of melody catapults them into genre royalty. “Stasis” uses this superpower for peaceful guitar jams, “Echoes” uses it for soaring As I Lay Dying vocal lines, and “The Reckoning” uses it for haunting continuity across its eight minutes. The djenty interdjections are well-written and screwed in tight, packing a punch even for listeners with severe djent allerdjies. Stasis is a bold statement from a new band, and it’s jostled up my list posthaste.

#5. Hell:on // Shaman – Hell:on’s folk-infused take on death metal stands apart. Shaman’s diverse influences complement each other and flourish in isolation. Phrygian themes, throat singing, and driving sitars steer the album. But despite Shaman’s folk roots, it’s an excellent slab of death metal. Hell:on’s riffs recall the threatening leviathans of Nile’s Annihilation of the Wicked, while the narrative song structures feel like a roided-out Aeternam. Even among such storied company, Shaman’s melodies stand out. Over the record’s runtime, Hell:on’s guitars shred, soar, flail, and wallop, evolving smoothly and dragging the listener along. As icing on the cake, Holdeneye’s review of Shaman features the most sobering and most badass introductory story of 2024. Hell:on demanded my attention and earned it.

#4. Pyrrhon // Exhaust – I started warming up to Exhaust on my first listen, but it took a while to diagnose why. Pyrrhon’s earlier releases didn’t click with me, but Exhaust is a trailblazer and a paradox. Pyrrhon rewrites the textbook on riffs, displaying a mastery of groove even in their wildest moments. And the noisier cuts, which remind me most of Pink Floyd’s The Piper at the Gates of Dawn and The Velvet Underground, are evocative narratives rather than lifeless technical exercises. The longer pieces intersperse hypnotic buildups with furious cacophony (“Out of Gas”), while the shorter tracks are simultaneously caustic and infectious. With a thick leading bass performance and a master that highlights every detail of the drums, Exhaust grows on me with every spin. Pyrrhon’s off-the-deep-end brand of experimental death metal isn’t my usual fare, but I can’t avert my ears this time. Both mellifluous and disgusting, both rifftastic and immersive, Exhaust is singular.

#3. Selbst // Despondency Chord Progressions – My first toe dip into Selbst made a lasting impression. Shortly after Despondency Chord Progressions came out, I spun it at the office. In the final minute of the opener “La Encarnación de Todos los Miedos,” I felt the involuntary tears start to flow, and I had to nuke the music and run to the bathroom to avoid worrying my desk neighbor. This embarrassing first encounter perfectly encapsulates the album. While it’s “merely” black metal, its gorgeous melodies and shrilling tremolos showcase the genre at its finest. Alternating between meditative dirges and howling chords, Selbst conveys both muffled sobs and hysterical bawling. Selbst’s fluid compositions captivated me at once and dug their claws even deeper over the ensuing months. The most heart-rending record of 2024, Despondency Chord Progressions showcases the paralyzing power of music.

#2. Noxis // Violence Inherent in the System – Noxis’ debut is a remarkable blend of old and new. The album’s stomping riffs and popping snare drum root it in 1990s brutal death metal. Conversely, its exuberantly grimy bass tone, its proggy rhythms, and its surprise woodwind extravaganza feel unabashedly modern. Much like last year’s Ohio death metal highlight, Violence Inherent in the System succeeds by ripping throughout, whether with a vile Dying Fetus riff or with an adventurous bass melody. Although this is the longest record in my top five, its 46 minutes fly by. Boasting momentum that would make Newton blush, Noxis keeps the energy high from the barnburner “Skullcrushing Defilement” to the proggy old-school “Emanations of the Sick.” After six months of scrutinizing and adoring Violence, I still can’t fathom that this is a debut album.

#1. Wormed // Omegon – I’ve already said my piece on this, and nothing has changed. Omegon feels as thrilling, as alien, as robotic, and as human as it did in July. In a year where brutality and dissonance thrived, Wormed maxed out both dimensions. Omegon is at once a painstakingly crafted work of art, an all-consuming atmosphere, and 2024’s punchiest death metal record.

Honorable Mentions:

• Oxygen Destroyer // Guardian of the Universe – Redefining Darkness strikes again. Oxygen Destroyer’s latest death-thrash opus is a concise half hour of exhilarating riffs. The album sounds one track, but I don’t care; it gains steam as it progresses, and it lodges deeper on every listen. There’s no excuse for missing this.
• Brodequin // Harbinger of Woe – Despite its morose title, Harbinger of Woe is straightforward and riotous. Brodequin has honed a sleek archetype of brutal death metal, far from the likes of Wormed. It doesn’t aim to innovate; it just aims for high impact. It succeeds.
• Kryptos // Decimator – India’s heavy metal kings dealt me an irreplaceable shot of adrenaline. Decimator is Kryptos’ most melodically inspired work to date, an absolute scorcher, and the most viscerally satisfying production job of 2024.
• Necrowretch // Swords of Dajjal – Somehow, despite competition from In Aphelion and Necrophobic themselves, Necrowretch churned out the best Necrophobic album of 2024.

Songs o’ the Year:

1. Julie Christmas – “The Lighthouse”
2. Hippotraktor – “The Reckoning”
3. Kanonenfieber – “Waffenbrüder”
4. Hypoxia – “Scorched and Skinned”
5. Kryptos – “Fall to the Spectre’s Gaze”
6. Wormed – “Protogod”
7. Alcest – “Améthyste”
8. Defeated Sanity – “Heredity Violated”
9. Andy Gillion – “Acceptance”
10. Selbst – “La Encarnación de Todos los Miedos”
11. Pyrrhon – “Out of Gas”
12. Ulcerate – “Cutting the Throat of God”
13. Noxis – “Abstemious, Pious Writ of Life”
14. Keygen Church – “La Chiave del mio Amor”

#2024 #Amiensus #BlogPost #Brodequin #CaveSermon #ColdCell #DawnTreader #DefeatedSanity #DevenialVerdict #EyeEater #Föhn #Gaerea #Hamferð #HellOn #Hippotraktor #Hypoxia #Kanonenfeiber #Kryptos #Necrowretch #Noxis #OxygenDestroyer #PillarOfLight #Pyrrhon #Replicant #Selbst #SpectralVoice #ThusSpokeAndMaddogSTopTenIshOf2024 #Ulcerate #Wormed

Thus Spoke and Maddog’s Top Ten(ish) of 2024

By Steel Druhm

Thus Spoke

My second AMG End-of-Year piece?! Didn’t I just get here? This is my typical reaction to life’s happenings. I’m blindsided by everything. You’ll probably notice that many of the below list entries ‘snuck up on me’ in how much I liked them, compared to everything else. The fact that we’re now halfway through the 2020s makes me feel a bit nauseous. I keep telling people I ‘just moved’ into the home I bought this year, but I’ve been in it since April. And that huge milestone—for which I feel immensely grateful and privileged to have achieved this side of 30—would have solely dominated my year were it not for two other facts: 1) I was finally diagnosed with and very recently started medication for ADHD; 2) 2024 has got to have been the strongest year of the decade so far for metal. So, time to talk about the music rather than myself.

My overoptimistic prediction that Ulcerate would release new music came true,1 and there was, in general, a particular influx of excellent material from the darker, more dissonant, and extreme sides of death and black metal. This was also the year I finally reconnected with my love of doom after a long period of lukewarm engagement. But I wouldn’t have known about half of it were it not for this gig, and the amazing people I share it with. Whether it was Dear Hollow, Kenstrosity, or Mystikus Hugebeard pinging across something they thought I might like, or a particularly potent review penned by a colleague, a commenter chipping in with some gem, or the group buzz around an album I might otherwise never have considered, there’s no better place to find and discuss metal. And speaking of community, if I ever needed a confirmation that this right here is the loveliest place on the internet, the rallying response to Ken‘s plight earlier this year from staff and readers was it.2 I couldn’t ask for better company.

I said as much last year, but I’ll probably say it every year: having this opportunity is wild and I feel so blessed. To be able to send my thoughts about music into the world where people read and consider them, that’s mad. Bumping into an AMG fan in the wild was also an affirming and heartwarming experience reminding me that there are actually real people out there who know who we are; and let me say, however enthusiastic and grateful you might be for us, the feeling is mutual. So to everyone reading this, to all the folks at AMG who make it possible for me to continually wax lyrical about stuff I love (and stuff I don’t love so much) and put up with all my overrating, to all of you: thank you. Shout out also to my list buddy Maddog, whose EOY write-up is bound to be more br00tal and much less flowery than mine, and whose in-person company I continue to have the pleasure of enjoying whenever he deigns to visit our little island up here. Oh, and thank you to the original creator and to Kenstrosity for my new avatar! I asked and you delivered. And if you actually read this far down, thank you for indulging me. But now, finally, it’s list time.

#ish. Pillar of Light // Caldera – I unintentionally ended my reviewing year on a high with Pillar of Light. Or perhaps a low, if we consider mood. When a record evokes a genuine emotional response in me,3 as Caldera does, it deserves more than an Honorable Mention. So here it is. It’s one of those albums you experience that forever afterward remains tied to your particular life situation when you were first immersed, and for that reason, its longevity is increased and its impact amplified. Given how “Leaving” and “Infernal Gaze” leave me in pieces, it’s probably a good thing the misery comes down from 11 at other times. But on the next album, who knows? I’ll be ready at least.

#10. Replicant // Infinite Mortality – Much like Kenstrosity, author of the review, I have not historically been Replicant’s hugest fan. For some reason their music never stuck with me; I just didn’t get it. Infinite Mortality has been the enlightenment I needed. It’s undeniably fantastic. Brilliantly technical and ruthlessly efficient in execution, it manages to also be ridiculously groovy in a way that you wouldn’t expect from this flavor of extreme death metal. Suited, evidently, to desk sessions and gym sessions alike, given the range of play it got from me since its release, its balance of skronk and style proved why I should, long ago, have been paying attention to Replicant. Ken himself struggled to find a negative and so do I. Even interlude “SCN9A” is great, especially as it leads into monster “Pain Enduring.” Only the superlative strength of other contenders causes this to fall so low on the list.

#9. ColdCell // Age of Unreason – In a rare case of me underrating something, my review of Age of Unreason did not quite do justice to its strength. Not only have I revisited it often, but I have of late been struck ever deeper by its profundity. The honest, vulnerable lamentations on inequality (“Solidarity or Solitude”), hatred (“Discord”), and human selfishness (“Dead to the World”) go far beyond a jaded misanthropy and strike a real chord. In wrapping this up in an insidiously simple package of compelling, devastating black metal with a distinctive voice, ColdCell have made, I now recognize, a true masterpiece. Brutal in its own way, and beautiful in many more, this is a record I hardly realized had made such a strong impact on me until I saw just how many times I’d spun it. This year may have seen black metal that goes harder, or with more powerful atmospheres, but none that are as memorable as Age of Unreason.

#8. Spectral Voice // Sparagmos – What a behemoth. It’s hard to believe that—just for a little while—Sparagmos slipped my mind many months after its February release. Relistening brought it all back into horrifying clarity. This record throws a veil over the sun, stares at you with unseeing, ecstatic eyes of Dionysian worship, and forces you into terrified awe. I’m still blown away by how crushingly heavy and immersive it is; how it still manages to blindside me with sudden turns from ominous crawling into chaotic, chthonic tremolos and clustered, hideous vocals. A masterclass in patient, predatory ambush. Nothing else this year was like it, which is partially why I’ve had to return so often to its dark embrace. Every nightmarish track was at some point in the runnings for the Song of the Year playlist. In the end, only one could make it, and it is, as I said in my review, “as inexorable as death.”

#7. Hamferð // Men Guðs hond er sterk – I’m surprised as well. Before Men Guðs hond er sterk, I had never laid ears on Hamferð and I was quite stunned to find how instantly I loved them. It’s not often an album by a band you’d previously never spent time with claims a spot on your year-end list after one listen, but this was one of those rare occasions. Something about the sorrowful, yet also soaring, melodies delivered through the interplays of resonant chords and gentle plucks, and between caustic growls and clear, ardent cleans just transports me. I feel the solemnity, the fear, and the grief in alternately forceful and graceful heaviness thanks to these intricately woven compositions and ardent performances that make the fact the lyrics are all in Faroese completely irrelevant. And Hamferð cover breadth with such ease, the slowly rolling wave of doom rising with tremolos into new intensity; and yet still controlled, still patient. The closer and it’s sample used to bother me, but I’m long past that now. In short, as the Angry Metal Guy himself said, “the record’s flow is impeccable,” and “the writing is subtle but addictive”. He’s not kidding about that last part, I really can’t stop listening to it.

#6. Föhn // Condescending – I was not prepared for what Condescending would do to me. Like any funeral doom worth its salt, it’s massive, but its presence is not smothering, it does not suffocate. Instead, it dampens the sound of anything else, so that the lugubrious chords, vocals, and fraught, lamenting refrains reverberate inside your mind, alone. This presence is redoubled by the heart-rending devastation of the compositions it centers—lyrically and musically. Bleakly beautiful, crushing doom in all its low, slow, cavernous hell leads you into an almost blissful moroseness, just in time for the veil to tear and your spirit to crumble as haunting melodies spill in from impossibly delicate sources of saxophone, synth, or ringing strings. Condescending will not leave my mind, and as broken and misty-eyed as these songs make me—”A Day After” and “Persona” especially—I’ll keep returning to experience it again and again. Maybe I can only speak for myself; maybe you’re sensing a theme wherein I like albums that make me feel sad. Whatever the case, Föhn took my breath away, and I don’t want it back.

#5. Cave Sermon // Divine Laughter – It’s pretty irresponsible of me to put this in the list at all, let alone in this position, considering how late in the day I discovered it. But I’m not really known for being ‘responsible’ around these parts, so, what the hell. What some might pigeonhole as just wonky death metal, or blackened post-hardcore—or even post-metal, as Metal Archives confusingly stamp it—is really much more complex, deep, and unique. Gripping and strange, in a way that struck me on my very first listen, Divine Laughter is responsible for me going from never having heard of Cave Sermon to being an ardent fan in one afternoon. Every listen gives me my new favorite part and uncovers more and more of its treasures. Savage and beautiful and with unnervingly easy flow, large parts of it are total perfection (“Liquid Gol, “The Paint of An Invader”). I cannot get enough. It’s so good, actually, that it’s made me feel a bit anxious about how much I’ve still missed this year, though I am very glad that this made it to my ears, even at the 11th hour. Divine Laughter is simply one of the greatest things I’ve heard in 2024, and it’s a crime that more people aren’t talking about it.

#4. Devenial Verdict // Blessing of Despair – I was waiting for Blessing of Despair since January, and as it always is with things we have high expectations for, part of me was preparing for disappointment. That preparation proved unnecessary once I finally got my hands on this in the Autumn. Devenial Verdict delivered. This time, they amped up all their unique little idiosyncrasies that made me fall in love with Ash Blind, and added a criminally heavy helping of groove. This thing is atmospheric and punchy, providing soundscapes that are just as haunting and mysterious(TM) as they are stomping and cutthroat. Either way, these riffs will make you shiver. “Garden of Eyes”! “Solus”! Ahhhh! Even “Counting Silence” and “A Curse Made Flesh,” which I initially dismissed as a little understated, have this delicious melancholic presence I just want to be immersed in 24/7. Devenial Verdict’s slick mixture of mournful melody and menacing, barked growls; neck-snapping flicks of cymbal, and those resonant, aggressive chord progressions make for—almost—my favorite take on death metal that exists. The sole reason Blessing of Despair wasn’t my most-played album of 2024 is that I only started in September.4

#3. Selbst // Despondency Chord Progressions – Back in 2017 or so, I was struck by what at the time I considered the most gorgeous opening guitar on any song ever. It was “…Of Solitary Ramblings,” the first track on Selbst’s self-titled debut.5 From that day forward I was enamoured. The undercurrents of lamenting melodrama and a black metal interwoven with a distinctive style of flowing, weeping strums continue to make Selbst very special. But if I had thought that their depths of emotional poignancy and stirring, multi-layered compositions had been reached, Despondency Chord Progressions showed they had not. Cleans that some wrote off as unsavory, rather bring—in my opinion—a new vulnerability, and their rawness compounds the pathos of already intensely cathartic compositions. The album’s title is, as I noted, an apt descriptor for the musical themes, but really undersells the cry of grief and despair that erupts from the music with every shuddering, tremolo-shaken, surge and every plaintive, somber quietude. I stand by what I said back in April, that “[t]his is black metal at its most stirring, entrancingly beautiful, and existentially affecting.” The sheer magnitude of its impassioned peaks (“Third World Wretchedness,” “Between Seclusion and Obsession”) and the sting of its humanity (“When true Loneliness is Experienced,” “Chant of Self Confrontation”) are like nothing else in the genre.

#2. Amiensus // Reclamation [Parts 1 & 2] – Take it up in the comments if you think this is cheating; Reclamation is one work in my eyes. And what a masterpiece. Each part a gorgeous, immersive side of one breathtaking journey that is best experienced together. I remain stunned by Amiensus’ mastery of musical storytelling through a flowing, intricate soundscape—at turns triumphant (“Vermillion Fog of War,” “Sólfarið”), sorrowful (“Reverie,” “Leprosarium”), and always stirring. Everything about Reclamation is graceful, which is another part of its magic because it’s not as though Amiensus left the black metal behind. Rather they seem to have found the deepest essence of the genre’s unique propensity for raw emotional expression, and moulded its elements into what is hands-down the most beautiful thing I’ve heard at least this year. It is, as I noted in my write-up of Part 1, a distillation of pure joy, and uplifting no matter how wistful (“Sun and Moon”), or suffused with bittersweet longing (“A Consciousness Throughout Time,” “Acquiescence”). And with so much of it—albeit, a time that flashes by with thrilling speed—it’s impossible not to get lost in. “Sun and Moon” was so close to being my favorite song of 2024, and in another year, it would have been. For that matter, in another year Reclamation itself would have claimed the top spot on this list.

#1. Ulcerate // Cutting the Throat of God – What else could it have been? I worry that by this point I may have used up all of the words that are possible to describe this pinnacle of excellence. In reality, though, I’m not sure I even have the words to express it in the first place, not for lack of trying. Ulcerate have long been a behemoth in their realm within the larger world of death metal, but while distinctive, they have never settled, continually carving up the template of dissonance with varyingly-sized blades of atmosphere and melody, moving between their most barbed and chaotic (Everything is Fire) to their most somber and moody (The Destroyers of All) in just one album. Later Shrines of Paralysis—my former favorite—saw a turn back towards the urgency and aggression, but with this new harmonic undercurrent in place. With hindsight, I can see now that the deeply atmospheric, disquieting Stare into Death and Be Still marked a turning point, paving the ground for what could be their magnum opus. Distilling the tension and the turmoil, into tidal forces of incredible rhythm, and dark, brilliant melody, with Cutting the Throat of God, Ulcerate reach transcendence. Dire (“The Dawn is Hollow”), deadly (“Transfiguration in and Out of Worlds”), devastating (“To See Death Just Once,” “Cutting the Throat of God”). Its intricacies only continue to reveal themselves to me; helped, no doubt, by a phenomenal live performance that bewitched me anew this October. I had to upgrade this album’s score to Iconic, because it is. This is atmospheric death metal perfected, and if genre-mates weren’t already looking in Ulcerate’s direction, there’s hardly any choice now. Cutting the Throat of God represents, in the greatest form, “the savagery, authenticity, and more recently, beauty that makes this icon of the dissonant death metal world who they are.”

Honorable Mentions:

Gaerea // Coma – Despite having calmed down considerably from my previous Gaerea overhype, there’s no denying that they’ve really got something. With a new vocalist, they retain their distinctively melodramatic and intense style, while incorporating a little more vulnerability via some genuinely really lovely cleans. A great record that just wasn’t great enough for the ridiculously high standard set by this year’s fare.

Eye Eater // Alienate – I am immensely grateful for Dolphin Whisperer for bringing this to my attention. Much of this album feels like it was written specifically for me, because it uses pretty much all of my favorite things in metal. It’s atmospheric and dissonant, like Ulcerate and others in that vein; it’s kind of post-death-y, and replete with minor melodies, and a particular kind of urgency my brain associates with specific kinds of ‘-core’. I just didn’t get quite enough time with it.

Songs of the Year

“To See Death Just Once” – Ulcerate

“Sun and Moon” – Amiensus

“Solus” – Devenial Verdict

“Terminal” – Vorga

“Third World Wretchedness” – Selbst

“The Paint of an Invader” – Cave Sermon

“A Day After” – Föhn

“Ábær” – Hamferð

“Inversion” – Endonomos

“Death’s Knell Rings in Eternity” – Spectral Voice

“Leaving” – Pillar of Light

Maddog

It’s been a weird year, and this is a weird list. Last December, I lamented the emotional hollowness of 2023’s metal output. If anything, 2024 fell even flatter. My most anticipated heavyweights were competent but inconsistent (Alcest, Julie Christmas), and few albums moved me. Unfazed, death metal picked up the slack and made this year a pleasure. Led by a flurry of excellent releases from genre titans, 2024 helped rekindle my love for cantankerous death metal.

Even so, the brutality of 2024’s output shocked me. Despite my worship of Suffocation and Dying Fetus, most brutal death metal releases of the last decade haven’t gripped me. But 2024 pulled me onto the brutal train with creativity and pizzazz. Both the techy and the knuckle-dragging corners of that subgenre thrived, including several artists that didn’t make my list (like Gigan, Iniquitous Savagery, and Nile). After tending toward more emotive music and other poseur nonsense in recent years, I took a long jump back in 2024.

As if that wasn’t enough, this was a banner year for dissonance. That’s a sentence I never expected to type; even dissonant death metal’s classics tend to be hit-or-miss with me. In 2024, the skronk finally broke through, aided by many avant-garde bands drifting toward a more accessible sound. This year’s screechy screeds were cogent enough to grab my arm and unhinged enough to rip it out of its socket. It’s been a jarring but eye-opening year.

This comment from the Brodequin review doubles as a summary of my 2024 music picks:

I wonder if I, we, they or all of us have a screw loose.

Heading into 2024, I craved immersive soundscapes and misty eyes. Instead, I was met with discordant gurgling. I didn’t expect it, but I don’t regret it.

#ish. Hypoxia // Defiance – Defiance never gets old. This old-school death metal behemoth has been around for ten months and hails from a subgenre that’s infamous for monotony. And yet, like Monstrosity’s best work, it blossoms on every spin. Defiance sports 2024’s fiercest harsh vocal performance, and riffwork so potent that it could revive the Selbst baby. I don’t have anything fancy to add, so I won’t try. Defiance is a rare death metal record that’s simple, thrilling, and well-written.

#10. Dawn Treader // Bloom & Decay – The thought sometimes crosses my mind: Why does atmospheric black metal even exist? The musical possibilities abound; who would pay $8 for tremolo scales recorded in a rest stop bathroom? Records like Bloom & Decay jolt me out of my pretension. Dawn Treader’s underground gem is both a product and a peddler of overpowering emotion. Ross Connell unleashes a tirade against violence and oppression using grief-stricken guitar melodies. On the flip side, Bloom & Decay’s heavy use of major keys—my second biggest fear—blurs the line between despair and tentative hope. Most impressive is the album’s flow, which Itchymenace described better than I ever could: “The majority of Bloom & Decay is instrumental, but you hardly notice because the music has such a storytelling quality.” Bloom & Decay’s 53-minute chokehold on my heart is ineffable but unyielding.

#9. Kanonenfieber // Die Urkatastrophe – Germany’s nameless Noise has built up a remarkable CV – 7 years, 3 bands, 8 albums. While I’ve often enjoyed his music, I never fell under his spell. Die Urkatastrophe was the last straw. A pacifist tirade told through first-person WWI vignettes, Die Urkatastrophe depicts nationalist violence and its aftermath. Armed with a sharp-edged blackened death foundation and surging chorus melodies, Kanonenfieber provides rewarding fodder even for unfeeling riff addicts. However, its excellence lies in its raw emotion. Both Noise’s lyrics and his songwriting embrace a “show, don’t tell” approach that brings the album to life. As the narrator’s cavalry offensive meets with a hilltop ambush in “Gott mit der Kavallerie,” Kanonenfieber’s upbeat riffs transform into a sudden dirge followed by frantic black metal. The epic “Waffenbrüder” evokes the wide-eyed optimism of childhood friends, the pride of enlisting, the tragedy of losing a companion, and the regrets of a life wasted. Die Urkatastrophe is both a transformative album and exemplary storytelling.

#8. Defeated Sanity // Chronicles of Lunacy – Chronicles of Lunacy is essential listening for any fans of extreme metal. Its greatest triumph is its fine mix of Defeated Sanity’s signature ingredients. Chronicles excels as pure brutal death metal through punishing caveman riffs and a tasteful dose of slam. Vaughn Stoffey’s guitars elevate this to an art form using wily fretboard acrobatics and seamless jazzy breaks. Led by kit-meister Lille Gruber, Defeated Sanity’s off-kilter rhythms and heavy syncopation miraculously aid the album’s staying power rather than hindering it. Put simply, Chronicles of Lunacy is 2024’s most vivid reminder of why I love death metal. I love its unforgiving brutality; I love its dazzling technicality; I love its groove; I love its genre-bending creative expression; I love its rhythmic feats of strength; I love its intellect; I love its idiocy. In other words, I love Defeated Sanity.

#7. Ulcerate // Cutting the Throat of God – It’s a match made in heaven: Cutting the Throat of God is Ulcerate for dummies, and I’m a dummy. Ulcerate continues to march toward more accessible ground, leaving behind the merciless dissonance of Everything is Fire. Powerful melodic themes peek through the chaos and take time to shine, offering both souvenirs and footholds. Despite Cutting’s lowbrow appeal, Ulcerate’s inimitable signature remains. Unease pervades the record, and Ulcerate’s cohesive songwriting transforms it from a concept to an emotion. In Thus Spoke’s words, Jamie Saint Merat’s drums are “more body than skeleton,” using their distinctive start-stop style to guide the mood. The album’s climaxes alone justify a purchase, as hypnotic melodies and frenzied dissonance coalesce into a tsunami. In short, Cutting the Throat of God captured both my brain and my heart.

#6. Hippotraktor // Stasis – I first heard about Belgium’s Hippotraktor from an insistent coworker, long before I discovered GardensTale’s well-worded underrating. Psychonaut meets Karnivool meets The Ocean meets Meshuggah in this pounding, beautiful prog/post adventure. Stasis’ hard-won achievement is that it navigates through disparate ideas with fluidity and flair. Psychonaut-drenched sludge forms a jagged backbone that sways between meditative and explosive. Meanwhile, Hippotraktor’s mastery of melody catapults them into genre royalty. “Stasis” uses this superpower for peaceful guitar jams, “Echoes” uses it for soaring As I Lay Dying vocal lines, and “The Reckoning” uses it for haunting continuity across its eight minutes. The djenty interdjections are well-written and screwed in tight, packing a punch even for listeners with severe djent allerdjies. Stasis is a bold statement from a new band, and it’s jostled up my list posthaste.

#5. Hell:on // Shaman – Hell:on’s folk-infused take on death metal stands apart. Shaman’s diverse influences complement each other and flourish in isolation. Phrygian themes, throat singing, and driving sitars steer the album. But despite Shaman’s folk roots, it’s an excellent slab of death metal. Hell:on’s riffs recall the threatening leviathans of Nile’s Annihilation of the Wicked, while the narrative song structures feel like a roided-out Aeternam. Even among such storied company, Shaman’s melodies stand out. Over the record’s runtime, Hell:on’s guitars shred, soar, flail, and wallop, evolving smoothly and dragging the listener along. As icing on the cake, Holdeneye’s review of Shaman features the most sobering and most badass introductory story of 2024. Hell:on demanded my attention and earned it.

#4. Pyrrhon // Exhaust – I started warming up to Exhaust on my first listen, but it took a while to diagnose why. Pyrrhon’s earlier releases didn’t click with me, but Exhaust is a trailblazer and a paradox. Pyrrhon rewrites the textbook on riffs, displaying a mastery of groove even in their wildest moments. And the noisier cuts, which remind me most of Pink Floyd’s The Piper at the Gates of Dawn and The Velvet Underground, are evocative narratives rather than lifeless technical exercises. The longer pieces intersperse hypnotic buildups with furious cacophony (“Out of Gas”), while the shorter tracks are simultaneously caustic and infectious. With a thick leading bass performance and a master that highlights every detail of the drums, Exhaust grows on me with every spin. Pyrrhon’s off-the-deep-end brand of experimental death metal isn’t my usual fare, but I can’t avert my ears this time. Both mellifluous and disgusting, both rifftastic and immersive, Exhaust is singular.

#3. Selbst // Despondency Chord Progressions – My first toe dip into Selbst made a lasting impression. Shortly after Despondency Chord Progressions came out, I spun it at the office. In the final minute of the opener “La Encarnación de Todos los Miedos,” I felt the involuntary tears start to flow, and I had to nuke the music and run to the bathroom to avoid worrying my desk neighbor. This embarrassing first encounter perfectly encapsulates the album. While it’s “merely” black metal, its gorgeous melodies and shrilling tremolos showcase the genre at its finest. Alternating between meditative dirges and howling chords, Selbst conveys both muffled sobs and hysterical bawling. Selbst’s fluid compositions captivated me at once and dug their claws even deeper over the ensuing months. The most heart-rending record of 2024, Despondency Chord Progressions showcases the paralyzing power of music.

#2. Noxis // Violence Inherent in the System – Noxis’ debut is a remarkable blend of old and new. The album’s stomping riffs and popping snare drum root it in 1990s brutal death metal. Conversely, its exuberantly grimy bass tone, its proggy rhythms, and its surprise woodwind extravaganza feel unabashedly modern. Much like last year’s Ohio death metal highlight, Violence Inherent in the System succeeds by ripping throughout, whether with a vile Dying Fetus riff or with an adventurous bass melody. Although this is the longest record in my top five, its 46 minutes fly by. Boasting momentum that would make Newton blush, Noxis keeps the energy high from the barnburner “Skullcrushing Defilement” to the proggy old-school “Emanations of the Sick.” After six months of scrutinizing and adoring Violence, I still can’t fathom that this is a debut album.

#1. Wormed // Omegon – I’ve already said my piece on this, and nothing has changed. Omegon feels as thrilling, as alien, as robotic, and as human as it did in July. In a year where brutality and dissonance thrived, Wormed maxed out both dimensions. Omegon is at once a painstakingly crafted work of art, an all-consuming atmosphere, and 2024’s punchiest death metal record.

Honorable Mentions:

• Oxygen Destroyer // Guardian of the Universe – Redefining Darkness strikes again. Oxygen Destroyer’s latest death-thrash opus is a concise half hour of exhilarating riffs. The album sounds one track, but I don’t care; it gains steam as it progresses, and it lodges deeper on every listen. There’s no excuse for missing this.
• Brodequin // Harbinger of Woe – Despite its morose title, Harbinger of Woe is straightforward and riotous. Brodequin has honed a sleek archetype of brutal death metal, far from the likes of Wormed. It doesn’t aim to innovate; it just aims for high impact. It succeeds.
• Kryptos // Decimator – India’s heavy metal kings dealt me an irreplaceable shot of adrenaline. Decimator is Kryptos’ most melodically inspired work to date, an absolute scorcher, and the most viscerally satisfying production job of 2024.
• Necrowretch // Swords of Dajjal – Somehow, despite competition from In Aphelion and Necrophobic themselves, Necrowretch churned out the best Necrophobic album of 2024.

Songs o’ the Year:

1. Julie Christmas – “The Lighthouse”
2. Hippotraktor – “The Reckoning”
3. Kanonenfieber – “Waffenbrüder”
4. Hypoxia – “Scorched and Skinned”
5. Kryptos – “Fall to the Spectre’s Gaze”
6. Wormed – “Protogod”
7. Alcest – “Améthyste”
8. Defeated Sanity – “Heredity Violated”
9. Andy Gillion – “Acceptance”
10. Selbst – “La Encarnación de Todos los Miedos”
11. Pyrrhon – “Out of Gas”
12. Ulcerate – “Cutting the Throat of God”
13. Noxis – “Abstemious, Pious Writ of Life”
14. Keygen Church – “La Chiave del mio Amor”

#2024 #Amiensus #BlogPost #Brodequin #CaveSermon #ColdCell #DawnTreader #DefeatedSanity #DevenialVerdict #EyeEater #Föhn #Gaerea #Hamferð #HellOn #Hippotraktor #Hypoxia #Kanonenfeiber #Kryptos #Necrowretch #Noxis #OxygenDestroyer #PillarOfLight #Pyrrhon #Replicant #Selbst #SpectralVoice #ThusSpokeAndMaddogSTopTenIshOf2024 #Ulcerate #Wormed

Thus Spoke and Maddog’s Top Ten(ish) of 2024

By Steel Druhm

Thus Spoke

My second AMG End-of-Year piece?! Didn’t I just get here? This is my typical reaction to life’s happenings. I’m blindsided by everything. You’ll probably notice that many of the below list entries ‘snuck up on me’ in how much I liked them, compared to everything else. The fact that we’re now halfway through the 2020s makes me feel a bit nauseous. I keep telling people I ‘just moved’ into the home I bought this year, but I’ve been in it since April. And that huge milestone—for which I feel immensely grateful and privileged to have achieved this side of 30—would have solely dominated my year were it not for two other facts: 1) I was finally diagnosed with and very recently started medication for ADHD; 2) 2024 has got to have been the strongest year of the decade so far for metal. So, time to talk about the music rather than myself.

My overoptimistic prediction that Ulcerate would release new music came true,1 and there was, in general, a particular influx of excellent material from the darker, more dissonant, and extreme sides of death and black metal. This was also the year I finally reconnected with my love of doom after a long period of lukewarm engagement. But I wouldn’t have known about half of it were it not for this gig, and the amazing people I share it with. Whether it was Dear Hollow, Kenstrosity, or Mystikus Hugebeard pinging across something they thought I might like, or a particularly potent review penned by a colleague, a commenter chipping in with some gem, or the group buzz around an album I might otherwise never have considered, there’s no better place to find and discuss metal. And speaking of community, if I ever needed a confirmation that this right here is the loveliest place on the internet, the rallying response to Ken‘s plight earlier this year from staff and readers was it.2 I couldn’t ask for better company.

I said as much last year, but I’ll probably say it every year: having this opportunity is wild and I feel so blessed. To be able to send my thoughts about music into the world where people read and consider them, that’s mad. Bumping into an AMG fan in the wild was also an affirming and heartwarming experience reminding me that there are actually real people out there who know who we are; and let me say, however enthusiastic and grateful you might be for us, the feeling is mutual. So to everyone reading this, to all the folks at AMG who make it possible for me to continually wax lyrical about stuff I love (and stuff I don’t love so much) and put up with all my overrating, to all of you: thank you. Shout out also to my list buddy Maddog, whose EOY write-up is bound to be more br00tal and much less flowery than mine, and whose in-person company I continue to have the pleasure of enjoying whenever he deigns to visit our little island up here. Oh, and thank you to the original creator and to Kenstrosity for my new avatar! I asked and you delivered. And if you actually read this far down, thank you for indulging me. But now, finally, it’s list time.

#ish. Pillar of Light // Caldera – I unintentionally ended my reviewing year on a high with Pillar of Light. Or perhaps a low, if we consider mood. When a record evokes a genuine emotional response in me,3 as Caldera does, it deserves more than an Honorable Mention. So here it is. It’s one of those albums you experience that forever afterward remains tied to your particular life situation when you were first immersed, and for that reason, its longevity is increased and its impact amplified. Given how “Leaving” and “Infernal Gaze” leave me in pieces, it’s probably a good thing the misery comes down from 11 at other times. But on the next album, who knows? I’ll be ready at least.

#10. Replicant // Infinite Mortality – Much like Kenstrosity, author of the review, I have not historically been Replicant’s hugest fan. For some reason their music never stuck with me; I just didn’t get it. Infinite Mortality has been the enlightenment I needed. It’s undeniably fantastic. Brilliantly technical and ruthlessly efficient in execution, it manages to also be ridiculously groovy in a way that you wouldn’t expect from this flavor of extreme death metal. Suited, evidently, to desk sessions and gym sessions alike, given the range of play it got from me since its release, its balance of skronk and style proved why I should, long ago, have been paying attention to Replicant. Ken himself struggled to find a negative and so do I. Even interlude “SCN9A” is great, especially as it leads into monster “Pain Enduring.” Only the superlative strength of other contenders causes this to fall so low on the list.

#9. ColdCell // Age of Unreason – In a rare case of me underrating something, my review of Age of Unreason did not quite do justice to its strength. Not only have I revisited it often, but I have of late been struck ever deeper by its profundity. The honest, vulnerable lamentations on inequality (“Solidarity or Solitude”), hatred (“Discord”), and human selfishness (“Dead to the World”) go far beyond a jaded misanthropy and strike a real chord. In wrapping this up in an insidiously simple package of compelling, devastating black metal with a distinctive voice, ColdCell have made, I now recognize, a true masterpiece. Brutal in its own way, and beautiful in many more, this is a record I hardly realized had made such a strong impact on me until I saw just how many times I’d spun it. This year may have seen black metal that goes harder, or with more powerful atmospheres, but none that are as memorable as Age of Unreason.

#8. Spectral Voice // Sparagmos – What a behemoth. It’s hard to believe that—just for a little while—Sparagmos slipped my mind many months after its February release. Relistening brought it all back into horrifying clarity. This record throws a veil over the sun, stares at you with unseeing, ecstatic eyes of Dionysian worship, and forces you into terrified awe. I’m still blown away by how crushingly heavy and immersive it is; how it still manages to blindside me with sudden turns from ominous crawling into chaotic, chthonic tremolos and clustered, hideous vocals. A masterclass in patient, predatory ambush. Nothing else this year was like it, which is partially why I’ve had to return so often to its dark embrace. Every nightmarish track was at some point in the runnings for the Song of the Year playlist. In the end, only one could make it, and it is, as I said in my review, “as inexorable as death.”

#7. Hamferð // Men Guðs hond er sterk – I’m surprised as well. Before Men Guðs hond er sterk, I had never laid ears on Hamferð and I was quite stunned to find how instantly I loved them. It’s not often an album by a band you’d previously never spent time with claims a spot on your year-end list after one listen, but this was one of those rare occasions. Something about the sorrowful, yet also soaring, melodies delivered through the interplays of resonant chords and gentle plucks, and between caustic growls and clear, ardent cleans just transports me. I feel the solemnity, the fear, and the grief in alternately forceful and graceful heaviness thanks to these intricately woven compositions and ardent performances that make the fact the lyrics are all in Faroese completely irrelevant. And Hamferð cover breadth with such ease, the slowly rolling wave of doom rising with tremolos into new intensity; and yet still controlled, still patient. The closer and it’s sample used to bother me, but I’m long past that now. In short, as the Angry Metal Guy himself said, “the record’s flow is impeccable,” and “the writing is subtle but addictive”. He’s not kidding about that last part, I really can’t stop listening to it.

#6. Föhn // Condescending – I was not prepared for what Condescending would do to me. Like any funeral doom worth its salt, it’s massive, but its presence is not smothering, it does not suffocate. Instead, it dampens the sound of anything else, so that the lugubrious chords, vocals, and fraught, lamenting refrains reverberate inside your mind, alone. This presence is redoubled by the heart-rending devastation of the compositions it centers—lyrically and musically. Bleakly beautiful, crushing doom in all its low, slow, cavernous hell leads you into an almost blissful moroseness, just in time for the veil to tear and your spirit to crumble as haunting melodies spill in from impossibly delicate sources of saxophone, synth, or ringing strings. Condescending will not leave my mind, and as broken and misty-eyed as these songs make me—”A Day After” and “Persona” especially—I’ll keep returning to experience it again and again. Maybe I can only speak for myself; maybe you’re sensing a theme wherein I like albums that make me feel sad. Whatever the case, Föhn took my breath away, and I don’t want it back.

#5. Cave Sermon // Divine Laughter – It’s pretty irresponsible of me to put this in the list at all, let alone in this position, considering how late in the day I discovered it. But I’m not really known for being ‘responsible’ around these parts, so, what the hell. What some might pigeonhole as just wonky death metal, or blackened post-hardcore—or even post-metal, as Metal Archives confusingly stamp it—is really much more complex, deep, and unique. Gripping and strange, in a way that struck me on my very first listen, Divine Laughter is responsible for me going from never having heard of Cave Sermon to being an ardent fan in one afternoon. Every listen gives me my new favorite part and uncovers more and more of its treasures. Savage and beautiful and with unnervingly easy flow, large parts of it are total perfection (“Liquid Gol, “The Paint of An Invader”). I cannot get enough. It’s so good, actually, that it’s made me feel a bit anxious about how much I’ve still missed this year, though I am very glad that this made it to my ears, even at the 11th hour. Divine Laughter is simply one of the greatest things I’ve heard in 2024, and it’s a crime that more people aren’t talking about it.

#4. Devenial Verdict // Blessing of Despair – I was waiting for Blessing of Despair since January, and as it always is with things we have high expectations for, part of me was preparing for disappointment. That preparation proved unnecessary once I finally got my hands on this in the Autumn. Devenial Verdict delivered. This time, they amped up all their unique little idiosyncrasies that made me fall in love with Ash Blind, and added a criminally heavy helping of groove. This thing is atmospheric and punchy, providing soundscapes that are just as haunting and mysterious(TM) as they are stomping and cutthroat. Either way, these riffs will make you shiver. “Garden of Eyes”! “Solus”! Ahhhh! Even “Counting Silence” and “A Curse Made Flesh,” which I initially dismissed as a little understated, have this delicious melancholic presence I just want to be immersed in 24/7. Devenial Verdict’s slick mixture of mournful melody and menacing, barked growls; neck-snapping flicks of cymbal, and those resonant, aggressive chord progressions make for—almost—my favorite take on death metal that exists. The sole reason Blessing of Despair wasn’t my most-played album of 2024 is that I only started in September.4

#3. Selbst // Despondency Chord Progressions – Back in 2017 or so, I was struck by what at the time I considered the most gorgeous opening guitar on any song ever. It was “…Of Solitary Ramblings,” the first track on Selbst’s self-titled debut.5 From that day forward I was enamoured. The undercurrents of lamenting melodrama and a black metal interwoven with a distinctive style of flowing, weeping strums continue to make Selbst very special. But if I had thought that their depths of emotional poignancy and stirring, multi-layered compositions had been reached, Despondency Chord Progressions showed they had not. Cleans that some wrote off as unsavory, rather bring—in my opinion—a new vulnerability, and their rawness compounds the pathos of already intensely cathartic compositions. The album’s title is, as I noted, an apt descriptor for the musical themes, but really undersells the cry of grief and despair that erupts from the music with every shuddering, tremolo-shaken, surge and every plaintive, somber quietude. I stand by what I said back in April, that “[t]his is black metal at its most stirring, entrancingly beautiful, and existentially affecting.” The sheer magnitude of its impassioned peaks (“Third World Wretchedness,” “Between Seclusion and Obsession”) and the sting of its humanity (“When true Loneliness is Experienced,” “Chant of Self Confrontation”) are like nothing else in the genre.

#2. Amiensus // Reclamation [Parts 1 & 2] – Take it up in the comments if you think this is cheating; Reclamation is one work in my eyes. And what a masterpiece. Each part a gorgeous, immersive side of one breathtaking journey that is best experienced together. I remain stunned by Amiensus’ mastery of musical storytelling through a flowing, intricate soundscape—at turns triumphant (“Vermillion Fog of War,” “Sólfarið”), sorrowful (“Reverie,” “Leprosarium”), and always stirring. Everything about Reclamation is graceful, which is another part of its magic because it’s not as though Amiensus left the black metal behind. Rather they seem to have found the deepest essence of the genre’s unique propensity for raw emotional expression, and moulded its elements into what is hands-down the most beautiful thing I’ve heard at least this year. It is, as I noted in my write-up of Part 1, a distillation of pure joy, and uplifting no matter how wistful (“Sun and Moon”), or suffused with bittersweet longing (“A Consciousness Throughout Time,” “Acquiescence”). And with so much of it—albeit, a time that flashes by with thrilling speed—it’s impossible not to get lost in. “Sun and Moon” was so close to being my favorite song of 2024, and in another year, it would have been. For that matter, in another year Reclamation itself would have claimed the top spot on this list.

#1. Ulcerate // Cutting the Throat of God – What else could it have been? I worry that by this point I may have used up all of the words that are possible to describe this pinnacle of excellence. In reality, though, I’m not sure I even have the words to express it in the first place, not for lack of trying. Ulcerate have long been a behemoth in their realm within the larger world of death metal, but while distinctive, they have never settled, continually carving up the template of dissonance with varyingly-sized blades of atmosphere and melody, moving between their most barbed and chaotic (Everything is Fire) to their most somber and moody (The Destroyers of All) in just one album. Later Shrines of Paralysis—my former favorite—saw a turn back towards the urgency and aggression, but with this new harmonic undercurrent in place. With hindsight, I can see now that the deeply atmospheric, disquieting Stare into Death and Be Still marked a turning point, paving the ground for what could be their magnum opus. Distilling the tension and the turmoil, into tidal forces of incredible rhythm, and dark, brilliant melody, with Cutting the Throat of God, Ulcerate reach transcendence. Dire (“The Dawn is Hollow”), deadly (“Transfiguration in and Out of Worlds”), devastating (“To See Death Just Once,” “Cutting the Throat of God”). Its intricacies only continue to reveal themselves to me; helped, no doubt, by a phenomenal live performance that bewitched me anew this October. I had to upgrade this album’s score to Iconic, because it is. This is atmospheric death metal perfected, and if genre-mates weren’t already looking in Ulcerate’s direction, there’s hardly any choice now. Cutting the Throat of God represents, in the greatest form, “the savagery, authenticity, and more recently, beauty that makes this icon of the dissonant death metal world who they are.”

Honorable Mentions:

Gaerea // Coma – Despite having calmed down considerably from my previous Gaerea overhype, there’s no denying that they’ve really got something. With a new vocalist, they retain their distinctively melodramatic and intense style, while incorporating a little more vulnerability via some genuinely really lovely cleans. A great record that just wasn’t great enough for the ridiculously high standard set by this year’s fare.

Eye Eater // Alienate – I am immensely grateful for Dolphin Whisperer for bringing this to my attention. Much of this album feels like it was written specifically for me, because it uses pretty much all of my favorite things in metal. It’s atmospheric and dissonant, like Ulcerate and others in that vein; it’s kind of post-death-y, and replete with minor melodies, and a particular kind of urgency my brain associates with specific kinds of ‘-core’. I just didn’t get quite enough time with it.

Songs of the Year

“To See Death Just Once” – Ulcerate

“Sun and Moon” – Amiensus

“Solus” – Devenial Verdict

“Terminal” – Vorga

“Third World Wretchedness” – Selbst

“The Paint of an Invader” – Cave Sermon

“A Day After” – Föhn

“Ábær” – Hamferð

“Inversion” – Endonomos

“Death’s Knell Rings in Eternity” – Spectral Voice

“Leaving” – Pillar of Light

Maddog

It’s been a weird year, and this is a weird list. Last December, I lamented the emotional hollowness of 2023’s metal output. If anything, 2024 fell even flatter. My most anticipated heavyweights were competent but inconsistent (Alcest, Julie Christmas), and few albums moved me. Unfazed, death metal picked up the slack and made this year a pleasure. Led by a flurry of excellent releases from genre titans, 2024 helped rekindle my love for cantankerous death metal.

Even so, the brutality of 2024’s output shocked me. Despite my worship of Suffocation and Dying Fetus, most brutal death metal releases of the last decade haven’t gripped me. But 2024 pulled me onto the brutal train with creativity and pizzazz. Both the techy and the knuckle-dragging corners of that subgenre thrived, including several artists that didn’t make my list (like Gigan, Iniquitous Savagery, and Nile). After tending toward more emotive music and other poseur nonsense in recent years, I took a long jump back in 2024.

As if that wasn’t enough, this was a banner year for dissonance. That’s a sentence I never expected to type; even dissonant death metal’s classics tend to be hit-or-miss with me. In 2024, the skronk finally broke through, aided by many avant-garde bands drifting toward a more accessible sound. This year’s screechy screeds were cogent enough to grab my arm and unhinged enough to rip it out of its socket. It’s been a jarring but eye-opening year.

This comment from the Brodequin review doubles as a summary of my 2024 music picks:

I wonder if I, we, they or all of us have a screw loose.

Heading into 2024, I craved immersive soundscapes and misty eyes. Instead, I was met with discordant gurgling. I didn’t expect it, but I don’t regret it.

#ish. Hypoxia // Defiance – Defiance never gets old. This old-school death metal behemoth has been around for ten months and hails from a subgenre that’s infamous for monotony. And yet, like Monstrosity’s best work, it blossoms on every spin. Defiance sports 2024’s fiercest harsh vocal performance, and riffwork so potent that it could revive the Selbst baby. I don’t have anything fancy to add, so I won’t try. Defiance is a rare death metal record that’s simple, thrilling, and well-written.

#10. Dawn Treader // Bloom & Decay – The thought sometimes crosses my mind: Why does atmospheric black metal even exist? The musical possibilities abound; who would pay $8 for tremolo scales recorded in a rest stop bathroom? Records like Bloom & Decay jolt me out of my pretension. Dawn Treader’s underground gem is both a product and a peddler of overpowering emotion. Ross Connell unleashes a tirade against violence and oppression using grief-stricken guitar melodies. On the flip side, Bloom & Decay’s heavy use of major keys—my second biggest fear—blurs the line between despair and tentative hope. Most impressive is the album’s flow, which Itchymenace described better than I ever could: “The majority of Bloom & Decay is instrumental, but you hardly notice because the music has such a storytelling quality.” Bloom & Decay’s 53-minute chokehold on my heart is ineffable but unyielding.

#9. Kanonenfieber // Die Urkatastrophe – Germany’s nameless Noise has built up a remarkable CV – 7 years, 3 bands, 8 albums. While I’ve often enjoyed his music, I never fell under his spell. Die Urkatastrophe was the last straw. A pacifist tirade told through first-person WWI vignettes, Die Urkatastrophe depicts nationalist violence and its aftermath. Armed with a sharp-edged blackened death foundation and surging chorus melodies, Kanonenfieber provides rewarding fodder even for unfeeling riff addicts. However, its excellence lies in its raw emotion. Both Noise’s lyrics and his songwriting embrace a “show, don’t tell” approach that brings the album to life. As the narrator’s cavalry offensive meets with a hilltop ambush in “Gott mit der Kavallerie,” Kanonenfieber’s upbeat riffs transform into a sudden dirge followed by frantic black metal. The epic “Waffenbrüder” evokes the wide-eyed optimism of childhood friends, the pride of enlisting, the tragedy of losing a companion, and the regrets of a life wasted. Die Urkatastrophe is both a transformative album and exemplary storytelling.

#8. Defeated Sanity // Chronicles of Lunacy – Chronicles of Lunacy is essential listening for any fans of extreme metal. Its greatest triumph is its fine mix of Defeated Sanity’s signature ingredients. Chronicles excels as pure brutal death metal through punishing caveman riffs and a tasteful dose of slam. Vaughn Stoffey’s guitars elevate this to an art form using wily fretboard acrobatics and seamless jazzy breaks. Led by kit-meister Lille Gruber, Defeated Sanity’s off-kilter rhythms and heavy syncopation miraculously aid the album’s staying power rather than hindering it. Put simply, Chronicles of Lunacy is 2024’s most vivid reminder of why I love death metal. I love its unforgiving brutality; I love its dazzling technicality; I love its groove; I love its genre-bending creative expression; I love its rhythmic feats of strength; I love its intellect; I love its idiocy. In other words, I love Defeated Sanity.

#7. Ulcerate // Cutting the Throat of God – It’s a match made in heaven: Cutting the Throat of God is Ulcerate for dummies, and I’m a dummy. Ulcerate continues to march toward more accessible ground, leaving behind the merciless dissonance of Everything is Fire. Powerful melodic themes peek through the chaos and take time to shine, offering both souvenirs and footholds. Despite Cutting’s lowbrow appeal, Ulcerate’s inimitable signature remains. Unease pervades the record, and Ulcerate’s cohesive songwriting transforms it from a concept to an emotion. In Thus Spoke’s words, Jamie Saint Merat’s drums are “more body than skeleton,” using their distinctive start-stop style to guide the mood. The album’s climaxes alone justify a purchase, as hypnotic melodies and frenzied dissonance coalesce into a tsunami. In short, Cutting the Throat of God captured both my brain and my heart.

#6. Hippotraktor // Stasis – I first heard about Belgium’s Hippotraktor from an insistent coworker, long before I discovered GardensTale’s well-worded underrating. Psychonaut meets Karnivool meets The Ocean meets Meshuggah in this pounding, beautiful prog/post adventure. Stasis’ hard-won achievement is that it navigates through disparate ideas with fluidity and flair. Psychonaut-drenched sludge forms a jagged backbone that sways between meditative and explosive. Meanwhile, Hippotraktor’s mastery of melody catapults them into genre royalty. “Stasis” uses this superpower for peaceful guitar jams, “Echoes” uses it for soaring As I Lay Dying vocal lines, and “The Reckoning” uses it for haunting continuity across its eight minutes. The djenty interdjections are well-written and screwed in tight, packing a punch even for listeners with severe djent allerdjies. Stasis is a bold statement from a new band, and it’s jostled up my list posthaste.

#5. Hell:on // Shaman – Hell:on’s folk-infused take on death metal stands apart. Shaman’s diverse influences complement each other and flourish in isolation. Phrygian themes, throat singing, and driving sitars steer the album. But despite Shaman’s folk roots, it’s an excellent slab of death metal. Hell:on’s riffs recall the threatening leviathans of Nile’s Annihilation of the Wicked, while the narrative song structures feel like a roided-out Aeternam. Even among such storied company, Shaman’s melodies stand out. Over the record’s runtime, Hell:on’s guitars shred, soar, flail, and wallop, evolving smoothly and dragging the listener along. As icing on the cake, Holdeneye’s review of Shaman features the most sobering and most badass introductory story of 2024. Hell:on demanded my attention and earned it.

#4. Pyrrhon // Exhaust – I started warming up to Exhaust on my first listen, but it took a while to diagnose why. Pyrrhon’s earlier releases didn’t click with me, but Exhaust is a trailblazer and a paradox. Pyrrhon rewrites the textbook on riffs, displaying a mastery of groove even in their wildest moments. And the noisier cuts, which remind me most of Pink Floyd’s The Piper at the Gates of Dawn and The Velvet Underground, are evocative narratives rather than lifeless technical exercises. The longer pieces intersperse hypnotic buildups with furious cacophony (“Out of Gas”), while the shorter tracks are simultaneously caustic and infectious. With a thick leading bass performance and a master that highlights every detail of the drums, Exhaust grows on me with every spin. Pyrrhon’s off-the-deep-end brand of experimental death metal isn’t my usual fare, but I can’t avert my ears this time. Both mellifluous and disgusting, both rifftastic and immersive, Exhaust is singular.

#3. Selbst // Despondency Chord Progressions – My first toe dip into Selbst made a lasting impression. Shortly after Despondency Chord Progressions came out, I spun it at the office. In the final minute of the opener “La Encarnación de Todos los Miedos,” I felt the involuntary tears start to flow, and I had to nuke the music and run to the bathroom to avoid worrying my desk neighbor. This embarrassing first encounter perfectly encapsulates the album. While it’s “merely” black metal, its gorgeous melodies and shrilling tremolos showcase the genre at its finest. Alternating between meditative dirges and howling chords, Selbst conveys both muffled sobs and hysterical bawling. Selbst’s fluid compositions captivated me at once and dug their claws even deeper over the ensuing months. The most heart-rending record of 2024, Despondency Chord Progressions showcases the paralyzing power of music.

#2. Noxis // Violence Inherent in the System – Noxis’ debut is a remarkable blend of old and new. The album’s stomping riffs and popping snare drum root it in 1990s brutal death metal. Conversely, its exuberantly grimy bass tone, its proggy rhythms, and its surprise woodwind extravaganza feel unabashedly modern. Much like last year’s Ohio death metal highlight, Violence Inherent in the System succeeds by ripping throughout, whether with a vile Dying Fetus riff or with an adventurous bass melody. Although this is the longest record in my top five, its 46 minutes fly by. Boasting momentum that would make Newton blush, Noxis keeps the energy high from the barnburner “Skullcrushing Defilement” to the proggy old-school “Emanations of the Sick.” After six months of scrutinizing and adoring Violence, I still can’t fathom that this is a debut album.

#1. Wormed // Omegon – I’ve already said my piece on this, and nothing has changed. Omegon feels as thrilling, as alien, as robotic, and as human as it did in July. In a year where brutality and dissonance thrived, Wormed maxed out both dimensions. Omegon is at once a painstakingly crafted work of art, an all-consuming atmosphere, and 2024’s punchiest death metal record.

Honorable Mentions:

• Oxygen Destroyer // Guardian of the Universe – Redefining Darkness strikes again. Oxygen Destroyer’s latest death-thrash opus is a concise half hour of exhilarating riffs. The album sounds one track, but I don’t care; it gains steam as it progresses, and it lodges deeper on every listen. There’s no excuse for missing this.
• Brodequin // Harbinger of Woe – Despite its morose title, Harbinger of Woe is straightforward and riotous. Brodequin has honed a sleek archetype of brutal death metal, far from the likes of Wormed. It doesn’t aim to innovate; it just aims for high impact. It succeeds.
• Kryptos // Decimator – India’s heavy metal kings dealt me an irreplaceable shot of adrenaline. Decimator is Kryptos’ most melodically inspired work to date, an absolute scorcher, and the most viscerally satisfying production job of 2024.
• Necrowretch // Swords of Dajjal – Somehow, despite competition from In Aphelion and Necrophobic themselves, Necrowretch churned out the best Necrophobic album of 2024.

Songs o’ the Year:

1. Julie Christmas – “The Lighthouse”
2. Hippotraktor – “The Reckoning”
3. Kanonenfieber – “Waffenbrüder”
4. Hypoxia – “Scorched and Skinned”
5. Kryptos – “Fall to the Spectre’s Gaze”
6. Wormed – “Protogod”
7. Alcest – “Améthyste”
8. Defeated Sanity – “Heredity Violated”
9. Andy Gillion – “Acceptance”
10. Selbst – “La Encarnación de Todos los Miedos”
11. Pyrrhon – “Out of Gas”
12. Ulcerate – “Cutting the Throat of God”
13. Noxis – “Abstemious, Pious Writ of Life”
14. Keygen Church – “La Chiave del mio Amor”

#2024 #Amiensus #BlogPost #Brodequin #CaveSermon #ColdCell #DawnTreader #DefeatedSanity #DevenialVerdict #EyeEater #Föhn #Gaerea #Hamferð #HellOn #Hippotraktor #Hypoxia #Kanonenfeiber #Kryptos #Necrowretch #Noxis #OxygenDestroyer #PillarOfLight #Pyrrhon #Replicant #Selbst #SpectralVoice #ThusSpokeAndMaddogSTopTenIshOf2024 #Ulcerate #Wormed

Sorry, #GAEREA, #Coma ist zwar echt #Mega, aber wenn #TorstenHirsch mit #Agrypnie wieder #ProgressivePostBlackMetal vom #allerfeinsten #verbricht ist der Platz #mein #AlbumdesJahres dann leider sofort #fest #belegt.

https://artofpropaganda.bandcamp.com/album/erg

#NowPlaying️ #Agrypnie #Erg #Aus_rauchlosem_Feuer

Sorry, #GAEREA, #Coma ist zwar echt #Mega, aber wenn #TorstenHirsch mit #Agrypnie wieder #ProgressivePostBlackMetal vom #allerfeinsten #verbricht ist der Platz #mein #AlbumdesJahres dann leider sofort #fest #belegt.

https://artofpropaganda.bandcamp.com/album/erg

#NowPlaying️ #Agrypnie #Erg #Aus_rauchlosem_Feuer

Sorry, #GAEREA, #Coma ist zwar echt #Mega, aber wenn #TorstenHirsch mit #Agrypnie wieder #ProgressivePostBlackMetal vom #allerfeinsten #verbricht ist der Platz #mein #AlbumdesJahres dann leider sofort #fest #belegt.

https://artofpropaganda.bandcamp.com/album/erg

#NowPlaying️ #Agrypnie #Erg #Aus_rauchlosem_Feuer

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#MetalInjection
CAVALERA, GAEREA, FUMING MOUTH & More Among Metal Injection's Top Tracks Of The Week
Plus Rivers Of Nihil, Bodysnatcher, Dark Tranquillity, and more!

https://metalinjection.net/playlist/top-tracks-of-the-week-playlist/cavalera-gaerea-fuming-mouth-more-among-metal-injections-top-tracks-of-the-week

#Cavalera #Gaerea #FumingMouth #RiversOfNihil #Bodysnatcher #Wormed #DarkTranquillity #UmbraVitae #AllThatRemains #TopTracks

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#MetalInjection
CAVALERA, GAEREA, FUMING MOUTH & More Among Metal Injection's Top Tracks Of The Week
Plus Rivers Of Nihil, Bodysnatcher, Dark Tranquillity, and more!

https://metalinjection.net/playlist/top-tracks-of-the-week-playlist/cavalera-gaerea-fuming-mouth-more-among-metal-injections-top-tracks-of-the-week

#Cavalera #Gaerea #FumingMouth #RiversOfNihil #Bodysnatcher #Wormed #DarkTranquillity #UmbraVitae #AllThatRemains #TopTracks

Updated the list with releases that I've missed or didn't think of the first time around

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6KHeuHfsGzY&list=PLBScDlQ0tCYe7nTQRw7627BfVc_P8NYyl&index=13

#Antzaat
#Haapoja
#Membaris
#Gaerea
#Ezkaton
#SolitudeM
#Stworz
#IllumAdora
#CrépusculeDHiver