#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

https://www.europesays.com/fi/286062/ Nummirock 40v: Torstain Festivaaliraportti – KaaosZine #AndOceans #asagraum #DeathbyRomy #Entertainment #FI #Finland #Finnish #gaerea #grave #KneelBeforeDeath #Music #Musiikki #nummirock #satyricon #SlowFall #Suomi #SwallowTheSun #TheGreatOstrobothnianTrendkiller #Thyrargo #viihde #wolfheart

https://www.europesays.com/it/548747/ MEGADETH: Il trionfo del thrash metal al Ferrara Summer Festival in Piazza Ariostea davanti a 18000 persone.(Video) #Anthrax #BlackLabelSociety #CavaleraConspiracy #ComuneDiFerrara #Entertainment #GAEREA #GameOver #Intrattenimento #IT #Italia #Italy #MC2LIVE #megadeth #Music #Musica

For #BlackMetalMonday:

#Gaerea - Kingdom of Thornes

https://song.link/i/1751996734

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=iP6Mc3Cq3Zc&ra=m

For #BlackMetalMonday:

#Gaerea - Kingdom of Thornes

https://song.link/i/1751996734

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=iP6Mc3Cq3Zc&ra=m

For #BlackMetalMonday:

#Gaerea - Kingdom of Thornes

https://song.link/i/1751996734

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=iP6Mc3Cq3Zc&ra=m

Currently in #Munich and going to see #gaerea soon ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Currently in #Munich and going to see #gaerea soon ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Currently in #Munich and going to see #gaerea soon ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Currently in #Munich and going to see #gaerea soon ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Currently in #Munich and going to see #gaerea soon ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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

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

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

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

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

New post: Conjurer to support Gaerea on upcoming UK tour https://moshville.co.uk/news/tours/2026/04/conjurer-to-support-gaerea-on-upcoming-uk-tour/ #Conjurer #Gaerea

New post: Conjurer to support Gaerea on upcoming UK tour https://moshville.co.uk/news/tours/2026/04/conjurer-to-support-gaerea-on-upcoming-uk-tour/ #Conjurer #Gaerea

New post: Conjurer to support Gaerea on upcoming UK tour https://moshville.co.uk/news/tours/2026/04/conjurer-to-support-gaerea-on-upcoming-uk-tour/ #Conjurer #Gaerea

https://www.europesays.com/dk/49860/ GAEREA – AMSTERDAM, MELKWEG – 21 MARCH 2026 #Amsterdam #Gaerea #GigReview #LiveReview #Melkweg #Netherlands #NewAlbum #review

I'm sorry, #Gaerea, I love your work but what the fuck is this latest album and it's #metalcore esque parts?

#BlackMetal #AvantguardMetal #Metal

I'm sorry, #Gaerea, I love your work but what the fuck is this latest album and it's #metalcore esque parts?

#BlackMetal #AvantguardMetal #Metal

I think the new #Gaerea album, Loss, is a solid 7/10. I think the singles were the best tracks, but it is all quite solid. #music

I think the new #Gaerea album, Loss, is a solid 7/10. I think the singles were the best tracks, but it is all quite solid. #music

I think the new #Gaerea album, Loss, is a solid 7/10. I think the singles were the best tracks, but it is all quite solid. #music

I think the new #Gaerea album, Loss, is a solid 7/10. I think the singles were the best tracks, but it is all quite solid. #music

I think the new #Gaerea album, Loss, is a solid 7/10. I think the singles were the best tracks, but it is all quite solid. #music

GAEREA (Portugal) presenta nou àlbum: "Loss" #Gaerea #BlackMetal #PostBlackMetal #Març2026 #Portugal #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

GAEREA (Portugal) presenta nou àlbum: "Loss" #Gaerea #BlackMetal #PostBlackMetal #Març2026 #Portugal #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

GAEREA (Portugal) presenta nou àlbum: "Loss" #Gaerea #BlackMetal #PostBlackMetal #Març2026 #Portugal #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

New post: Album Review: Gaerea – Loss https://moshville.co.uk/reviews/album-review/2026/03/album-review-gaerea-loss/ #Gaerea

New post: Album Review: Gaerea – Loss https://moshville.co.uk/reviews/album-review/2026/03/album-review-gaerea-loss/ #Gaerea

New post: Album Review: Gaerea – Loss https://moshville.co.uk/reviews/album-review/2026/03/album-review-gaerea-loss/ #Gaerea

Gorrch – Stillamentum Review | Angry Metal Guy

Michael Dorn has appeared on screen in more episodes of Star Trek than anyone else. His character, the…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.0 #AU #Australia #AvantgardeMusic #BlackMetal #Entertainment #Gaerea #Gorrch #ImperialTriumphant #ItalianMetal #Jan26 #review #reviews #Stillamentum
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/480295/

https://www.europesays.com/ie/337554/ Gorrch – Stillamentum Review | Angry Metal Guy #2026 #30 #AvantgardeMusic #BlackMetal #Éire #Entertainment #Gaerea #Gorrch #IE #ImperialTriumphant #Ireland #ItalianMetal #Jan26 #Music #Review #Reviews #Stillamentum

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

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 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 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