#germanmetal — Public Fediverse posts

I was surprised to learn that we’ve never reviewed Xandria here. The German project of one Marco Heubaum (who covers guitars, keys, and the odd vocal spot), Xandria released their first full-length in 2003, performing gothic and, eventually, symphonic power metal. They first grabbed me with 2012’s Neverworld’s End, a fantastic orchestral metal album that I still enjoy today. But consistency has never been Xandria’s strong suit—apart from Heubaum, the entire lineup changed in 2022, with Ambre Vourvahis being the latest of six lead vocalists, several of whom left on unpleasant terms. There’s a lot going on there—but inconsistent doesn’t necessarily mean bad (or, more accurately, doesn’t mean always bad), so I’m opting to approach Eclipse, Xandria’s ninth full-length release, with fresh eyes.

Or rather, I tried to approach Eclipse with fresh eyes, but the truth is that it sounds so much like a Nightwish record that I can’t. The thesis statement of Eclipse seems to be “what if Imaginaerum had breakdowns?” and the result is an album familiar, grandiose, and surprisingly heavy for its style. Throughout, huge choruses, grand orchestrations, and unintelligible chants set the scenes for standard symphonic power metal showdowns, with guest spots for violin (“Lore”), tin whistles (most prominently on “The Shannon’s Home”), and, yes, a children’s choir (“The Last Generation”) as needed for dramatic or nostalgic effect. Even lyrically, the comparison fits; Eclipse focuses on social issues with heavy-handed poetry that stretches authenticity (“The Poetry of the Real World”). Alongside the symphonic, there is also a genuine heaviness to Eclipse that albums in this style often lack. Most songs feature a metalcore-style breakdown at some point, occasionally accompanied by Heubaum’s hoarse shouting (“Eclipse,” “Colours”), and drummer Dimitrios Gatsios puts in an exceptional and lively performance throughout. Admittedly, said breakdowns don’t always feel natural, but they do highlight that Heubaum and Rob Klawonn’s guitars are not neglected, creating a general sense of balance between bombastic orchestration and genuinely heavy metal.

The result—unfortunately or fortunately, depending on your preferences—is that Eclipse’s strongest moments come as it best imitates its idols. “The Shannon’s Home” is the best example: a folky, mid-tempo song brimming with saccharine nostalgic wonder that I had to double-check isn’t a Nightwish cover. It really shouldn’t work, but Xandria’s earnest performance pulls it off. “Eclipse” is fast-paced and fun, with orchestral hits and a huge, catchy chorus that remind me of Within Temptation too. The heavier moments are a great counterbalance, and I love the guitar solo partway through. On the heavier side. “Masquerade” delivers with riffs, despite a whimsical chorus that, lyrically, evokes—yes, I’m name-dropping them again—Nightwish. Throughout Eclipse, Xandria confidently emulate a sound that, for better or worse, has massively influenced the genre they compose in.

Is that surprising? I’m not sure—but it is a little disappointing that nine albums and twenty-three years in, Xandria still seem like they’d rather emulate others than define their own sound. Maybe that’s a harsh read, but Eclipse feels predictable and restrained precisely because it’s so standard. “The Grand Delusion,” for example, is the cheeriest song about abuse of power I’ve heard in some time because, despite its grim lyrical content, Xandria maintain a genre-standard tempo and bombastic chorus. “Wave of Tanis” has my favorite chorus on the album, but I can’t honestly remember the rest of the song because it’s so over-the-top. None of this is a mark on the band’s talent or skill—on the contrary, everything sounds great—but it does make Eclipse feel repetitive. When Xandria needs drama, a choir starts chanting, most songs end on a modulated final chorus, and even the serious songs are upbeat and catchy. “The Last Generation” is the only exception, but it’s so heavy-handed as it does so that its meaning gets lost. Well before the twelve tracks clock the hour, you’ve figured out what you’re getting and are never challenged on the assumption.

And yet, Xandria do it well—Eclipse is strong symphonic power metal, taking a familiar style and basking triumphantly in its glory days. I like it; it’s a good album, but I wish it were fresher, more ambitious, and more willing to take chances. When I close my eyes and recall a time now a decade past, I think I could be blown away by Eclipse. As is, I just think too many others got there first.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: xandria.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/xandriaofficial
Releases Worldwide: August 7th, 2026

I was surprised to learn that we’ve never reviewed Xandria here. The German project of one Marco Heubaum (who covers guitars, keys, and the odd vocal spot), Xandria released their first full-length in 2003, performing gothic and, eventually, symphonic power metal. They first grabbed me with 2012’s Neverworld’s End, a fantastic orchestral metal album that I still enjoy today. But consistency has never been Xandria’s strong suit—apart from Heubaum, the entire lineup changed in 2022, with Ambre Vourvahis being the latest of six lead vocalists, several of whom left on unpleasant terms. There’s a lot going on there—but inconsistent doesn’t necessarily mean bad (or, more accurately, doesn’t mean always bad), so I’m opting to approach Eclipse, Xandria’s ninth full-length release, with fresh eyes.

Or rather, I tried to approach Eclipse with fresh eyes, but the truth is that it sounds so much like a Nightwish record that I can’t. The thesis statement of Eclipse seems to be “what if Imaginaerum had breakdowns?” and the result is an album familiar, grandiose, and surprisingly heavy for its style. Throughout, huge choruses, grand orchestrations, and unintelligible chants set the scenes for standard symphonic power metal showdowns, with guest spots for violin (“Lore”), tin whistles (most prominently on “The Shannon’s Home”), and, yes, a children’s choir (“The Last Generation”) as needed for dramatic or nostalgic effect. Even lyrically, the comparison fits; Eclipse focuses on social issues with heavy-handed poetry that stretches authenticity (“The Poetry of the Real World”). Alongside the symphonic, there is also a genuine heaviness to Eclipse that albums in this style often lack. Most songs feature a metalcore-style breakdown at some point, occasionally accompanied by Heubaum’s hoarse shouting (“Eclipse,” “Colours”), and drummer Dimitrios Gatsios puts in an exceptional and lively performance throughout. Admittedly, said breakdowns don’t always feel natural, but they do highlight that Heubaum and Rob Klawonn’s guitars are not neglected, creating a general sense of balance between bombastic orchestration and genuinely heavy metal.

The result—unfortunately or fortunately, depending on your preferences—is that Eclipse’s strongest moments come as it best imitates its idols. “The Shannon’s Home” is the best example: a folky, mid-tempo song brimming with saccharine nostalgic wonder that I had to double-check isn’t a Nightwish cover. It really shouldn’t work, but Xandria’s earnest performance pulls it off. “Eclipse” is fast-paced and fun, with orchestral hits and a huge, catchy chorus that remind me of Within Temptation too. The heavier moments are a great counterbalance, and I love the guitar solo partway through. On the heavier side. “Masquerade” delivers with riffs, despite a whimsical chorus that, lyrically, evokes—yes, I’m name-dropping them again—Nightwish. Throughout Eclipse, Xandria confidently emulate a sound that, for better or worse, has massively influenced the genre they compose in.

Is that surprising? I’m not sure—but it is a little disappointing that nine albums and twenty-three years in, Xandria still seem like they’d rather emulate others than define their own sound. Maybe that’s a harsh read, but Eclipse feels predictable and restrained precisely because it’s so standard. “The Grand Delusion,” for example, is the cheeriest song about abuse of power I’ve heard in some time because, despite its grim lyrical content, Xandria maintain a genre-standard tempo and bombastic chorus. “Wave of Tanis” has my favorite chorus on the album, but I can’t honestly remember the rest of the song because it’s so over-the-top. None of this is a mark on the band’s talent or skill—on the contrary, everything sounds great—but it does make Eclipse feel repetitive. When Xandria needs drama, a choir starts chanting, most songs end on a modulated final chorus, and even the serious songs are upbeat and catchy. “The Last Generation” is the only exception, but it’s so heavy-handed as it does so that its meaning gets lost. Well before the twelve tracks clock the hour, you’ve figured out what you’re getting and are never challenged on the assumption.

And yet, Xandria do it well—Eclipse is strong symphonic power metal, taking a familiar style and basking triumphantly in its glory days. I like it; it’s a good album, but I wish it were fresher, more ambitious, and more willing to take chances. When I close my eyes and recall a time now a decade past, I think I could be blown away by Eclipse. As is, I just think too many others got there first.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: xandria.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/xandriaofficial
Releases Worldwide: August 7th, 2026

Hailing from the East Frisian Island of Spiekeroog, German death metallers Temple of Dread have been kicking around since 2017. After 2019 debut LP, Blood Carving Mantras, the illustrious Holdeneye saw fit to review their sophomore effort, World Sacrifice, in 2020. He commended them for their ferocity and adherence to the olde ways, but he would have liked to see a bit more variation in tempo and songcraft. In the intervening six years, Temple of Dread have grown from a three-piece to a fivesome and have released an additional three albums, all of which we seem to have missed. Did they take Holdeneye’s criticisms to heart, or can we expect another nonstop onslaught of old school death metal?

One thing is certain: these guys still spend most of their time extolling the early works of Death and other early scene heavyweights. Jens Finger shouts and bellows vitriol over the proceedings, lending a thrashy flair to Dreadspawn Dominion. “Artisan of Oblivion” and “Dreadspawn Dominion” see axe men Markus Bünnemeyer and Daniel Maurer setting fire to their fretboards with furious tremolos and technical riffcraft. “Born to Rot” boasts a powerful mid-paced chug, while “Blood Pyre” all but incites a circle pit through Jӧrg Uken’s muscular kit work. Uken is also responsible for production, which, while a little crowded, does allow each instrument to be heard easily. This is comes in clutch on closer “Infernal Eternity,” where Andi Bauer’s bass drips with overpowering malice. Truly a case where less is more, Bauer doesn’t perform any noodly Atheistic wankery, but ensures every note is absolutely menacing.

According to the promo material, Temple of Dread began expanding their sonic palette, as well as experimenting with cinematic elements, beginning with 2023’s Beyond Acheron. Dreadspawn Dominion continues that work. The main riff in “Death March” boasts an evil, blackened edge, bringing a gothic feel to its Nile-esque rituality. “Hybrid Horde Eternal” and “Scorched by Cosmic Fire” both employ synths—courtesy of Uken—to weave a dark, cosmic atmosphere. Potentially to Holdeneye’s delight, with the exception of barn burners like “Rites of Blasphemy” and the title track, much of Dreadspawn Dominion oscillates between fast and mid-paced, repeatedly building and releasing tension in what is objectively a more mature and nuanced compositional style. This is largely successful, except on “Hybrid Horde Eternal,” where Finger’s vocal rigidity or consistency is at odds with its doomy midpoint. Although not terribly common, this isn’t the only instance where Finger’s seemingly narrow range hampers or fails to capitalize on an otherwise poignant moment (“Death March,” “Scorched by Cosmic Fire”).

At just over 40 minutes, Dreadspawn Dominion is right in the pocket for ideal engagement. While I wouldn’t accuse Temple of Dread of bloat, there are a few moments where pacing struggles. The album seems to sag a bit in the middle—“Blood Pyre” and “Scorched by Cosmic Fire,” in particular—and struggles to clinch a solid ending. While “Infernal Eternity” sports a sick, slow gallop and its solo and rhythm section complement each other excellently, nearly its entire back half is devoted to an atmospheric and synth-laden outro that, so late in the album, blunts what could have been a strong ending. Along with “Artisan of Oblivion,” the album closer also suffers from a few riffs that last just a couple measures too long and ultimately fall flat.

Death metal is a hard genre to excel in, especially when idolizing its progenitors. Temple of Dread do an admirable job, and their forays into other genres and atmospherics help to separate them from the rest of the cesspool. While not groundbreaking, Dreadspawn Dominion is a solid record, especially for a band pumping out albums almost yearly. Temple of Dread have the beginnings of a truly killer formula here, but a little more refinement and attention to pacing could pay exponential dividends on future efforts.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Testimony Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 7th, 2026

Hailing from the East Frisian Island of Spiekeroog, German death metallers Temple of Dread have been kicking around since 2017. After 2019 debut LP, Blood Carving Mantras, the illustrious Holdeneye saw fit to review their sophomore effort, World Sacrifice, in 2020. He commended them for their ferocity and adherence to the olde ways, but he would have liked to see a bit more variation in tempo and songcraft. In the intervening six years, Temple of Dread have grown from a three-piece to a fivesome and have released an additional three albums, all of which we seem to have missed. Did they take Holdeneye’s criticisms to heart, or can we expect another nonstop onslaught of old school death metal?

One thing is certain: these guys still spend most of their time extolling the early works of Death and other early scene heavyweights. Jens Finger shouts and bellows vitriol over the proceedings, lending a thrashy flair to Dreadspawn Dominion. “Artisan of Oblivion” and “Dreadspawn Dominion” see axe men Markus Bünnemeyer and Daniel Maurer setting fire to their fretboards with furious tremolos and technical riffcraft. “Born to Rot” boasts a powerful mid-paced chug, while “Blood Pyre” all but incites a circle pit through Jӧrg Uken’s muscular kit work. Uken is also responsible for production, which, while a little crowded, does allow each instrument to be heard easily. This is comes in clutch on closer “Infernal Eternity,” where Andi Bauer’s bass drips with overpowering malice. Truly a case where less is more, Bauer doesn’t perform any noodly Atheistic wankery, but ensures every note is absolutely menacing.

According to the promo material, Temple of Dread began expanding their sonic palette, as well as experimenting with cinematic elements, beginning with 2023’s Beyond Acheron. Dreadspawn Dominion continues that work. The main riff in “Death March” boasts an evil, blackened edge, bringing a gothic feel to its Nile-esque rituality. “Hybrid Horde Eternal” and “Scorched by Cosmic Fire” both employ synths—courtesy of Uken—to weave a dark, cosmic atmosphere. Potentially to Holdeneye’s delight, with the exception of barn burners like “Rites of Blasphemy” and the title track, much of Dreadspawn Dominion oscillates between fast and mid-paced, repeatedly building and releasing tension in what is objectively a more mature and nuanced compositional style. This is largely successful, except on “Hybrid Horde Eternal,” where Finger’s vocal rigidity or consistency is at odds with its doomy midpoint. Although not terribly common, this isn’t the only instance where Finger’s seemingly narrow range hampers or fails to capitalize on an otherwise poignant moment (“Death March,” “Scorched by Cosmic Fire”).

At just over 40 minutes, Dreadspawn Dominion is right in the pocket for ideal engagement. While I wouldn’t accuse Temple of Dread of bloat, there are a few moments where pacing struggles. The album seems to sag a bit in the middle—“Blood Pyre” and “Scorched by Cosmic Fire,” in particular—and struggles to clinch a solid ending. While “Infernal Eternity” sports a sick, slow gallop and its solo and rhythm section complement each other excellently, nearly its entire back half is devoted to an atmospheric and synth-laden outro that, so late in the album, blunts what could have been a strong ending. Along with “Artisan of Oblivion,” the album closer also suffers from a few riffs that last just a couple measures too long and ultimately fall flat.

Death metal is a hard genre to excel in, especially when idolizing its progenitors. Temple of Dread do an admirable job, and their forays into other genres and atmospherics help to separate them from the rest of the cesspool. While not groundbreaking, Dreadspawn Dominion is a solid record, especially for a band pumping out albums almost yearly. Temple of Dread have the beginnings of a truly killer formula here, but a little more refinement and attention to pacing could pay exponential dividends on future efforts.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Testimony Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 7th, 2026

Home to cuckoo clocks, namesake gateaux,1 and Bollenhüte, Germany’s Schwarzwald (Black Forest) has functioned as folklore fodder for centuries. Ever since dropping debut EP Wiege der Finsternis, Finsterforst has mined their homeland for inspiration, and after five albums they’re Still at it. Though only three years removed from 2023’s EP Jenseits, Still is Finsterforst’s first proper album in seven years.2 If this is your Finsterfirst time experiencing the band’s wares, Finsterforst revels in long-form folk compositions that conjure the stateliness and beauty of nature, and on Still these Germaniacs deliver another generous portion of real-deal, certified folk magic. After so much time walking through the woods, does Still forge a better path, or has Finsterforst lost their way?

Fans of Finsterforst’s recent work should be pleased with Still, as the distinctly Deutsch niche they’ve carved out persists with a twist of noble melancholy. To mein ears, Still plays like folk/black metal garnished with Neue Deutsche Härte accents as they merge seismic riffs and sustained synths with atmospheric textures, cinematic orchestrations, and a staggering tonal depth. Early Finsterforst leaned heavily into folksy fun, where jaunty accordion leads and spirited bass punches draw comparisons to Korpiklaani and Turisas. As Finsterforst evolved, song lengths ballooned, and they pushed further into realms of mood and emotional swells. While vestiges of their early sound remain, Finsterforst now hews much closer to the likes of Moonsorrow, although instead of basking in the wintry waters of Scandinavian paganism, this German septet reveres the temperate charms of an enchanted wood.

From its outset, Still conjures the ethereal beauty of nature and merges it with crushing might and overwhelming pathos. Opener “Obduktion” kicks off with an airy lead before dropping the hammer with meticulously crafted riffs and synth accents that remind me of Rammstein and Eisbrecher. Yet Still doesn’t dramatically shift Finsterforst’s songwriting towards Neue Deutsche Härte—this facet has been a part of their sound for years. Rather, Finsterforst adopts a less-is-moar philosophy that makes the parallels stand out more starkly. For instance, “Stille Nacht” begins with a riff that recalls Rammstein’s “Mein Teil,” driving momentum with thick ‘n’ beefy muscle. Both “Knie Nieder” and “Herbstwanderung” expertly blend the heavy with the tender, and “Fels” glistens with acoustic guitar underpinning vocalist Olli Berlin’s mesmerizing vocals. And it’s here that Finsterforst unfetters their most potent weapon. Berlin’s vocals give me goosebumps each playthrough, and his impassioned barks and sonorous cleans proffer varied deliveries throughout Still. Yet more than that, they supply the perfect counterpoint to Finsterforst’s soundscape as the outfit maneuvers between impassioned discharges and reverb-saturated refrains supported by gorgeous choral elements and brassy orchestrations. Still captures Finsterforst at their most subtle and stripped down, where laying their arrangements bare exposes naked splendor.

Despite the extreme runtime of Still, Finsterforst retools their approach to make it more accessible. In his review of Mach Dich Frei, El Cuervo identified the record’s length as cumbersome taken all at once, even if the individual tracks succeeded. On Still, the songs boast more palatable lengths than LPs past, and here only final original track, “Leere” overstays its welcome at twenty-four minutes.3 The two covers at the end, Immortal’s “Beyond the North Waves” and Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. II” commendably adapt versions of the songs to Finsterforst’s own style, yet push the runtime an extra fourteen minutes that otherwise would have delivered the band’s most succinct album to date. More positively, the production has improved since Mach Dich Frei and Zerfall, and even though the DR score only suggests a modest improvement, Still sounds better than any of the band’s other recent output.

In a month with few highlights, Finsterforst’s Still shines as a welcome bright spot. Dynamic songwriting, masterful command of tension, and inspired performances litter the album. Finsterforst addresses past offenses by adding depth to the mix and demonstrating more economical songwriting song-by-song, even though Still’s overall length perpetuates Finsterforst’s reputation for bloat. Regardless, I often find myself lost in Still’s woods without caring about how long the walk is, as the sights along the way are unequivocally worth the stroll.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 31st, 2026

Home to cuckoo clocks, namesake gateaux,1 and Bollenhüte, Germany’s Schwarzwald (Black Forest) has functioned as folklore fodder for centuries. Ever since dropping debut EP Wiege der Finsternis, Finsterforst has mined their homeland for inspiration, and after five albums they’re Still at it. Though only three years removed from 2023’s EP Jenseits, Still is Finsterforst’s first proper album in seven years.2 If this is your Finsterfirst time experiencing the band’s wares, Finsterforst revels in long-form folk compositions that conjure the stateliness and beauty of nature, and on Still these Germaniacs deliver another generous portion of real-deal, certified folk magic. After so much time walking through the woods, does Still forge a better path, or has Finsterforst lost their way?

Fans of Finsterforst’s recent work should be pleased with Still, as the distinctly Deutsch niche they’ve carved out persists with a twist of noble melancholy. To mein ears, Still plays like folk/black metal garnished with Neue Deutsche Härte accents as they merge seismic riffs and sustained synths with atmospheric textures, cinematic orchestrations, and a staggering tonal depth. Early Finsterforst leaned heavily into folksy fun, where jaunty accordion leads and spirited bass punches draw comparisons to Korpiklaani and Turisas. As Finsterforst evolved, song lengths ballooned, and they pushed further into realms of mood and emotional swells. While vestiges of their early sound remain, Finsterforst now hews much closer to the likes of Moonsorrow, although instead of basking in the wintry waters of Scandinavian paganism, this German septet reveres the temperate charms of an enchanted wood.

From its outset, Still conjures the ethereal beauty of nature and merges it with crushing might and overwhelming pathos. Opener “Obduktion” kicks off with an airy lead before dropping the hammer with meticulously crafted riffs and synth accents that remind me of Rammstein and Eisbrecher. Yet Still doesn’t dramatically shift Finsterforst’s songwriting towards Neue Deutsche Härte—this facet has been a part of their sound for years. Rather, Finsterforst adopts a less-is-moar philosophy that makes the parallels stand out more starkly. For instance, “Stille Nacht” begins with a riff that recalls Rammstein’s “Mein Teil,” driving momentum with thick ‘n’ beefy muscle. Both “Knie Nieder” and “Herbstwanderung” expertly blend the heavy with the tender, and “Fels” glistens with acoustic guitar underpinning vocalist Olli Berlin’s mesmerizing vocals. And it’s here that Finsterforst unfetters their most potent weapon. Berlin’s vocals give me goosebumps each playthrough, and his impassioned barks and sonorous cleans proffer varied deliveries throughout Still. Yet more than that, they supply the perfect counterpoint to Finsterforst’s soundscape as the outfit maneuvers between impassioned discharges and reverb-saturated refrains supported by gorgeous choral elements and brassy orchestrations. Still captures Finsterforst at their most subtle and stripped down, where laying their arrangements bare exposes naked splendor.

Despite the extreme runtime of Still, Finsterforst retools their approach to make it more accessible. In his review of Mach Dich Frei, El Cuervo identified the record’s length as cumbersome taken all at once, even if the individual tracks succeeded. On Still, the songs boast more palatable lengths than LPs past, and here only final original track, “Leere” overstays its welcome at twenty-four minutes.3 The two covers at the end, Immortal’s “Beyond the North Waves” and Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. II” commendably adapt versions of the songs to Finsterforst’s own style, yet push the runtime an extra fourteen minutes that otherwise would have delivered the band’s most succinct album to date. More positively, the production has improved since Mach Dich Frei and Zerfall, and even though the DR score only suggests a modest improvement, Still sounds better than any of the band’s other recent output.

In a month with few highlights, Finsterforst’s Still shines as a welcome bright spot. Dynamic songwriting, masterful command of tension, and inspired performances litter the album. Finsterforst addresses past offenses by adding depth to the mix and demonstrating more economical songwriting song-by-song, even though Still’s overall length perpetuates Finsterforst’s reputation for bloat. Regardless, I often find myself lost in Still’s woods without caring about how long the walk is, as the sights along the way are unequivocally worth the stroll.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 31st, 2026

It’s been a long time since Stormhammer dropped 2019’s epic Seven Seals. Having snuck its way into my top ten that year, Seven Seals proved to be one of the band’s best records, and one of the best power metal records of 2019. With a diverse vocal range, Matthias Kupka lent his voice to that record better than the other eighty vocalists mic-ing it for Stormhammer. It helps that the band put together a fluid record for a change, merging the blasty with the powery and the epic with the sappy. So, what have these German cheese grinders been up to for the last seven years? Oh, you know, hiring a new vocalist. Oh, and an entire new lineup around founding bassist Horst Tessmann. So much for dynasties.

Now that we, once again, have to start all over with Stormhammer—learning the ranges of its new vocalist, how the songwriting will adjust to those strengths and limitations, and fuck all else we need to pay attention to—let’s see what apple Horst has plucked from the Power Metal Singing Tree to wail their way through this year’s Wrath of the Hammer. Let’s see… M. Nox? Is this fucking Kamelot? How can I judge the hiring skills of a band that’s been around for over thirty years? More like, how can I Nox, amirite? OK, I’ll stop.

The epic “Beware” comes crashing down on your head with pounding drums, big choirs, and a massive orchestral element that builds and builds as it progresses. Then the title track powers up, delivering a thrashy lick that I haven’t heard from the band before. With burly backing vocals in play, Nox’s voice rises through the Blind Guardian-esque pre-chorus before soaring into the hooky chorus. It’s a strong piece of work, with killer soloing and a massive conclusion. For more of the thrashy bits, skip ahead to “Veil of Fire.” While it’s not their best, its At the Gates-meets-The Haunted Swedethrash is eyebrow-raising. But as with all tracks of this caliber, it always swings back into power metal territories, utilizing the tired intro-verse-prechorus-chorus-verse-prechorus-chorus-someothershit-solos-repeatingchorusthatneverseemstoend.

The best of the bunch are the back-to-back “Light in the Dark” and “Wheels of Eternity.” Both are standard Stormhammer power metal, with Dream Evil vibes in the first and Dragonforce wankery in the latter. “Light in the Dark” is a passionate number that checks all the power metal boxes. It’s also an interesting addition because it was previously released on 2022’s Never Surrender – 30 Years of Power compilation. But now it has an official home. “Wheels of Eternity” is one of the more ambitious tracks, mixing chugtastic verses with movie-soundtrack orchestrations. And the chorus is massive as fook.

The best quality of Wrath of the Hammer is its digestible runtime, making it far shorter than anything else in their repertoire. The other surprising quality is the thrash elements—something they talked a lot about in their promo materials. What doesn’t fare well is the one-dimensional vocal approach. For years, there has always been diversity galore in the throat department. Wrath of the Hammer is about as typical a power metal performance as you can get. Don’t get me wrong, Nox gives a good performance. But it just feels like a step backward compared to Seven Seals. Wrath of the Hammer has good energy and a handful of solid tracks, but it completely ignores the hard work laid before it by its predecessor.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Rock of Angels Records
Websites: stormhammer.de | facebook.com/stormhammerband
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

It’s been a long time since Stormhammer dropped 2019’s epic Seven Seals. Having snuck its way into my top ten that year, Seven Seals proved to be one of the band’s best records, and one of the best power metal records of 2019. With a diverse vocal range, Matthias Kupka lent his voice to that record better than the other eighty vocalists mic-ing it for Stormhammer. It helps that the band put together a fluid record for a change, merging the blasty with the powery and the epic with the sappy. So, what have these German cheese grinders been up to for the last seven years? Oh, you know, hiring a new vocalist. Oh, and an entire new lineup around founding bassist Horst Tessmann. So much for dynasties.

Now that we, once again, have to start all over with Stormhammer—learning the ranges of its new vocalist, how the songwriting will adjust to those strengths and limitations, and fuck all else we need to pay attention to—let’s see what apple Horst has plucked from the Power Metal Singing Tree to wail their way through this year’s Wrath of the Hammer. Let’s see… M. Nox? Is this fucking Kamelot? How can I judge the hiring skills of a band that’s been around for over thirty years? More like, how can I Nox, amirite? OK, I’ll stop.

The epic “Beware” comes crashing down on your head with pounding drums, big choirs, and a massive orchestral element that builds and builds as it progresses. Then the title track powers up, delivering a thrashy lick that I haven’t heard from the band before. With burly backing vocals in play, Nox’s voice rises through the Blind Guardian-esque pre-chorus before soaring into the hooky chorus. It’s a strong piece of work, with killer soloing and a massive conclusion. For more of the thrashy bits, skip ahead to “Veil of Fire.” While it’s not their best, its At the Gates-meets-The Haunted Swedethrash is eyebrow-raising. But as with all tracks of this caliber, it always swings back into power metal territories, utilizing the tired intro-verse-prechorus-chorus-verse-prechorus-chorus-someothershit-solos-repeatingchorusthatneverseemstoend.

The best of the bunch are the back-to-back “Light in the Dark” and “Wheels of Eternity.” Both are standard Stormhammer power metal, with Dream Evil vibes in the first and Dragonforce wankery in the latter. “Light in the Dark” is a passionate number that checks all the power metal boxes. It’s also an interesting addition because it was previously released on 2022’s Never Surrender – 30 Years of Power compilation. But now it has an official home. “Wheels of Eternity” is one of the more ambitious tracks, mixing chugtastic verses with movie-soundtrack orchestrations. And the chorus is massive as fook.

The best quality of Wrath of the Hammer is its digestible runtime, making it far shorter than anything else in their repertoire. The other surprising quality is the thrash elements—something they talked a lot about in their promo materials. What doesn’t fare well is the one-dimensional vocal approach. For years, there has always been diversity galore in the throat department. Wrath of the Hammer is about as typical a power metal performance as you can get. Don’t get me wrong, Nox gives a good performance. But it just feels like a step backward compared to Seven Seals. Wrath of the Hammer has good energy and a handful of solid tracks, but it completely ignores the hard work laid before it by its predecessor.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Rock of Angels Records
Websites: stormhammer.de | facebook.com/stormhammerband
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

Add Autumnblaze to the list of long-standing bands you’ve likely never heard of. Formed in 1996, this German duo found inspiration in early Katatonia, though their vision has changed throughout the years. Glut will be their ninth full-length album,1 and their third with Argonauta Records. In the years before signing with Argonauta, when they were with Prophecy Productions, they added a few tricks to their bag from fellow labelmates, Empyrium, and still view them as an important influence today. Their last two releases reflect the diversity in their approach, from the acoustic and gentle Welkin Shores Burning (2020) to the light gothic rock of Auf Zerfetzten Schwingen (2024). What drew my attention to Autumnblaze was the mentions of The Vision Bleak and Paradise Lost, along with Katatonia, in their promo materials. At 13 songs, is Glut too much of a good thing, or will it have you happily gorging on their vision of sadboi gothic metal?

Glut trends much heavier and more metal than anything they’ve released for Argonauta. While harsh vocals were present very rarely on their 2024 release, here they are a prominent feature. Vocalist Eldron slips back and forth between cleans and growls, which serve as effective foils for the harsh/gentle dynamic on the record. His growls, more raspy than deep-throated, lend a violent darkness, while the melodic tilt of his cleans brings a tender melancholy. The catchy chorus on “Kerkersonne” will have you singing along and seeking to brush up on your German to better understand the words tugging at your heartstrings.2 The guitar tone is also louder and heavier than on prior releases, and Arisjel sets an energetic, brisk pace on the drums that keeps things from growing too dark or saccharine. Autumblaze mix the gothic melodicism of Katatonia and The Vision Bleak with a more blackened, almost shoegaze-y edge on the guitars and vocals to create an impassioned record that is simultaneously joyful, angry, and sad.

Unlike the prog of Katatonia or the more unpredictable nature of Weird Tales, Autumnblaze favor a much more formulaic structure that proves both a boon and a bane. “Licht Aus” sets the general template for most songs, beginning harsh and heavy before Eldron’s cleans soften the tone for a more palatable chorus. This formula is a comfort, as Eldron’s cleans prove a balm to soothe the harshness of his growls—whether intentional or not, there is a sort of harm/heal dynamic to the music. Of course, where the formula proves a comfort, it also grows a touch repetitive. Glut is an incredibly pleasurable listening experience, yet hearing the same formula across 13 tracks becomes tiresome. It also doesn’t help that Autumnblaze write largely standard rock riffs without any melodic leads to help songs stand apart from one another.

When Autumnblaze mixes up their formula, it also comes with mixed results. “Glut” features some arpeggios that are a nice change of pace, while “Mondmann” forgoes the growls in favor of a pleasantly poppy, but still heavy, metal song. In other ways, their nuanced alterations to the formula prove nuisances. There’s an unfortunate focus on spoken word elements, with “Heilung,” “Glut,” and “Geisteskind” all using them in place of the growls. On top of that, instrumentally, the music is weakest during the spoken segments. “Heilung” and “Geisteskind” both opt for low-energy, uninteresting instrumentals during these moments, but they grow more enjoyable when the cleans kick in. “Heilung” in particular wastes a pretty terrific performance from Arjon by splitting half the song with the tedious spoken parts. Despite these issues, Glut’s strengths weigh favorably enough to make it more enjoyable than not.

Glut truly is a pleasant listening experience that effectively touches on a range of impassioned feelings. Autumnblaze have honed in on a successful formula that works for most of Glut’s 42-minute runtime, even if it starts to bow under the weight of its 13 songs. Having revisited their past stuff, I feel that Glut is the best they’ve ever sounded, both from a production and songwriting perspective. While it’s true they may have injected a little more variety in the past, their earlier stuff didn’t really stick as Glut does. So, sure, there are a few issues to work out, but if 30 years later you sound this fresh, that’s a win.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

Add Autumnblaze to the list of long-standing bands you’ve likely never heard of. Formed in 1996, this German duo found inspiration in early Katatonia, though their vision has changed throughout the years. Glut will be their ninth full-length album,1 and their third with Argonauta Records. In the years before signing with Argonauta, when they were with Prophecy Productions, they added a few tricks to their bag from fellow labelmates, Empyrium, and still view them as an important influence today. Their last two releases reflect the diversity in their approach, from the acoustic and gentle Welkin Shores Burning (2020) to the light gothic rock of Auf Zerfetzten Schwingen (2024). What drew my attention to Autumnblaze was the mentions of The Vision Bleak and Paradise Lost, along with Katatonia, in their promo materials. At 13 songs, is Glut too much of a good thing, or will it have you happily gorging on their vision of sadboi gothic metal?

Glut trends much heavier and more metal than anything they’ve released for Argonauta. While harsh vocals were present very rarely on their 2024 release, here they are a prominent feature. Vocalist Eldron slips back and forth between cleans and growls, which serve as effective foils for the harsh/gentle dynamic on the record. His growls, more raspy than deep-throated, lend a violent darkness, while the melodic tilt of his cleans brings a tender melancholy. The catchy chorus on “Kerkersonne” will have you singing along and seeking to brush up on your German to better understand the words tugging at your heartstrings.2 The guitar tone is also louder and heavier than on prior releases, and Arisjel sets an energetic, brisk pace on the drums that keeps things from growing too dark or saccharine. Autumblaze mix the gothic melodicism of Katatonia and The Vision Bleak with a more blackened, almost shoegaze-y edge on the guitars and vocals to create an impassioned record that is simultaneously joyful, angry, and sad.

Unlike the prog of Katatonia or the more unpredictable nature of Weird Tales, Autumnblaze favor a much more formulaic structure that proves both a boon and a bane. “Licht Aus” sets the general template for most songs, beginning harsh and heavy before Eldron’s cleans soften the tone for a more palatable chorus. This formula is a comfort, as Eldron’s cleans prove a balm to soothe the harshness of his growls—whether intentional or not, there is a sort of harm/heal dynamic to the music. Of course, where the formula proves a comfort, it also grows a touch repetitive. Glut is an incredibly pleasurable listening experience, yet hearing the same formula across 13 tracks becomes tiresome. It also doesn’t help that Autumnblaze write largely standard rock riffs without any melodic leads to help songs stand apart from one another.

When Autumnblaze mixes up their formula, it also comes with mixed results. “Glut” features some arpeggios that are a nice change of pace, while “Mondmann” forgoes the growls in favor of a pleasantly poppy, but still heavy, metal song. In other ways, their nuanced alterations to the formula prove nuisances. There’s an unfortunate focus on spoken word elements, with “Heilung,” “Glut,” and “Geisteskind” all using them in place of the growls. On top of that, instrumentally, the music is weakest during the spoken segments. “Heilung” and “Geisteskind” both opt for low-energy, uninteresting instrumentals during these moments, but they grow more enjoyable when the cleans kick in. “Heilung” in particular wastes a pretty terrific performance from Arjon by splitting half the song with the tedious spoken parts. Despite these issues, Glut’s strengths weigh favorably enough to make it more enjoyable than not.

Glut truly is a pleasant listening experience that effectively touches on a range of impassioned feelings. Autumnblaze have honed in on a successful formula that works for most of Glut’s 42-minute runtime, even if it starts to bow under the weight of its 13 songs. Having revisited their past stuff, I feel that Glut is the best they’ve ever sounded, both from a production and songwriting perspective. While it’s true they may have injected a little more variety in the past, their earlier stuff didn’t really stick as Glut does. So, sure, there are a few issues to work out, but if 30 years later you sound this fresh, that’s a win.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

Dominum Return with New Album “Night is Calling”

https://voiceofnoir.com/2026/07/03/dominum-return-with-new-album-night-is-calling/

Dominum Return with New Album “Night is Calling”

https://voiceofnoir.com/2026/07/03/dominum-return-with-new-album-night-is-calling/

The year was 2008. The place is Gelsenkirchen, Germany. Four brave souls were about to form Iron Kobra. Yearning for an era with less sheen and more grit, the band honed their craft with early demo Cult of the Snake and EP Battlesword. Their debut full-length, Dungeon Masters, wouldn’t descend upon the masses until 2012. While a little rough, it showed promise and ambition; the band clearly understood the fundamentals of hard rock and classic heavy metal. 2015 would see them return with Might & Magic, a higher-octane affair with tighter musicianship. But for a single here and there, Iron Kobra has remained quiet in the 11 years since. The metal snake returns now in 2026, promising louder, faster, and better.

I’m gonna do this review a little backward, starting with my chief complaint. Eternal Dagger feels more like a playlist than an album. There’s awesome musicianship and band cohesion on display here—the call and response antics of “Trembling Dungeons,” the stair-stepped riffs of “Fliehen,” the band’s perfect punctuation of Ela’s lyrics on “Forbidden Fruits,” Matze’s bass carrying the melody through the end of “Silver Strings and Iron Wings”—but nothing really ties these tracks together. It’s all undeniably the work of Iron Kobra, but the band careens—quite competently, at least—from searing speed metal (“Unchained & Untamed”) to Priestly NWoBHM (“Shibuya Nights”) to epic heavy metal (“Mountains of Madness”), making the album feel a bit unfocused. The great part about a criticism like this is that it has absolutely no bearing on how fucking hard these Germans rip.

From the first moments of “Trembling Dungeons”—a trash can opening, a sick divebomb, and soaring cleans—it’s clear Iron Kobra came here to chew bubblegum and kick ass, and they’re all out of bubblegum.1 Eternal Dagger is a rager written for all those who still blast Saxon on the reg. Whether burning barns (“Forbidden Fruits,” “Treacherous Tyrant”) or stomping out anthemic bangers, Iron Kobra plays with wanton abandon. This riotous and free energy never lets up, largely thanks to drummer Bjӧrn, even when the tempo drops a gear. “Silver Strings and Iron Wings” takes me back to Di’Anno-era Maiden, and “Trembling Dungeons” could’ve been an Angel Witch b-side. “Eternal Dagger” ventures into progressive territory, and although it doesn’t quite stick the landing and ends a little awkwardly, it’s intriguing, and I’d like to see them explore this narrative style more on future releases.

Eternal Dagger is a vast improvement over Iron Kobra’s back catalog, most notably stemming from its superior production. Mixed and mastered by Stefan Castevet, Eternal Dagger feels full and fleshed out. Bjӧrn’s kick drum moves some serious air, and Matze’s bass sounds absolutely incredible. It’s lush, vibrant, and responsible for some of my favorite moments on Eternal Dagger (“Shibuya Nights,” “Silver Strings,” “Unchained & Untamed”). The other major improvement of Eternal Dagger is the band’s synergy. While previous efforts felt like four talented musicians playing together, Eternal Dagger feels far more cohesive. This is best shown in the way lead guitarist Steffen dances beautifully around Ela’s rhythm guitars like variations on a theme. His leads and solos always feel like an extension of the rhythm section, rather than a standalone element (“Trembling Dungeons,” “Forbidden Fruits,” “Treacherous Tyrant”). Licks and fills from every member of Iron Kobra decorate the larger compositions, and as a result, Eternal Dagger feels like the work of a band at the top of their game.

Iron Kobra has got the goods. Front to back, Eternal Dagger is infectious and riotously fun. Whether you wanna howl at the sky while driving a bit too fast down the highway or pump your fist and bang your head in a crowd of sweaty, late-middle-aged men, Iron Kobra will get you there. I do wish Eternal Dagger had a more singular identity, but at the end of the day, I still had a blast working with this album over the past couple weeks. Unless you won’t settle for anything less than earth-shattering and paradigm-shifting masterpieces, Eternal Dagger will give you a sore neck and some involuntary stank face just fine.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

The year was 2008. The place is Gelsenkirchen, Germany. Four brave souls were about to form Iron Kobra. Yearning for an era with less sheen and more grit, the band honed their craft with early demo Cult of the Snake and EP Battlesword. Their debut full-length, Dungeon Masters, wouldn’t descend upon the masses until 2012. While a little rough, it showed promise and ambition; the band clearly understood the fundamentals of hard rock and classic heavy metal. 2015 would see them return with Might & Magic, a higher-octane affair with tighter musicianship. But for a single here and there, Iron Kobra has remained quiet in the 11 years since. The metal snake returns now in 2026, promising louder, faster, and better.

I’m gonna do this review a little backward, starting with my chief complaint. Eternal Dagger feels more like a playlist than an album. There’s awesome musicianship and band cohesion on display here—the call and response antics of “Trembling Dungeons,” the stair-stepped riffs of “Fliehen,” the band’s perfect punctuation of Ela’s lyrics on “Forbidden Fruits,” Matze’s bass carrying the melody through the end of “Silver Strings and Iron Wings”—but nothing really ties these tracks together. It’s all undeniably the work of Iron Kobra, but the band careens—quite competently, at least—from searing speed metal (“Unchained & Untamed”) to Priestly NWoBHM (“Shibuya Nights”) to epic heavy metal (“Mountains of Madness”), making the album feel a bit unfocused. The great part about a criticism like this is that it has absolutely no bearing on how fucking hard these Germans rip.

From the first moments of “Trembling Dungeons”—a trash can opening, a sick divebomb, and soaring cleans—it’s clear Iron Kobra came here to chew bubblegum and kick ass, and they’re all out of bubblegum.1 Eternal Dagger is a rager written for all those who still blast Saxon on the reg. Whether burning barns (“Forbidden Fruits,” “Treacherous Tyrant”) or stomping out anthemic bangers, Iron Kobra plays with wanton abandon. This riotous and free energy never lets up, largely thanks to drummer Bjӧrn, even when the tempo drops a gear. “Silver Strings and Iron Wings” takes me back to Di’Anno-era Maiden, and “Trembling Dungeons” could’ve been an Angel Witch b-side. “Eternal Dagger” ventures into progressive territory, and although it doesn’t quite stick the landing and ends a little awkwardly, it’s intriguing, and I’d like to see them explore this narrative style more on future releases.

Eternal Dagger is a vast improvement over Iron Kobra’s back catalog, most notably stemming from its superior production. Mixed and mastered by Stefan Castevet, Eternal Dagger feels full and fleshed out. Bjӧrn’s kick drum moves some serious air, and Matze’s bass sounds absolutely incredible. It’s lush, vibrant, and responsible for some of my favorite moments on Eternal Dagger (“Shibuya Nights,” “Silver Strings,” “Unchained & Untamed”). The other major improvement of Eternal Dagger is the band’s synergy. While previous efforts felt like four talented musicians playing together, Eternal Dagger feels far more cohesive. This is best shown in the way lead guitarist Steffen dances beautifully around Ela’s rhythm guitars like variations on a theme. His leads and solos always feel like an extension of the rhythm section, rather than a standalone element (“Trembling Dungeons,” “Forbidden Fruits,” “Treacherous Tyrant”). Licks and fills from every member of Iron Kobra decorate the larger compositions, and as a result, Eternal Dagger feels like the work of a band at the top of their game.

Iron Kobra has got the goods. Front to back, Eternal Dagger is infectious and riotously fun. Whether you wanna howl at the sky while driving a bit too fast down the highway or pump your fist and bang your head in a crowd of sweaty, late-middle-aged men, Iron Kobra will get you there. I do wish Eternal Dagger had a more singular identity, but at the end of the day, I still had a blast working with this album over the past couple weeks. Unless you won’t settle for anything less than earth-shattering and paradigm-shifting masterpieces, Eternal Dagger will give you a sore neck and some involuntary stank face just fine.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

I initially stumbled across Germany’s Maladie last year with the fifth installment of their Symptoms EP series and immediately fell for their sax-forward, avant-garde black metal. A quick glimpse through Maladie’s back catalog revealed how late I was to the game. Formed in 2009, the band has already released seven full-lengths and five EPs since 2012. Now, eighth LP The Dance of Tragedies is upon us, continuing Maladie’s magnificently nutty approach to black metal by braiding strands of diverse aural fabrics into a singular tapestry that’s far-reaching, fascinating, and fancifully fun. Yet we mustn’t take for granted that just because a band does many things well, they’ve avoided pitfalls along the way. Does Maladie juke major missteps during The Dance of Tragedies?

My first time through The Dance of Tragedies was both exactly what I anticipated from Maladie and an abrupt detonation of my expectations. The outfit’s signature sound persists, finding Hauke Peters slinging the sax with soulful swagger while the rest of the band skitters between full-on black metal fury (the end of “Vortex of Monotony”), AOR tunefulness (“Behind All Suns”), and brief flashes of electronica (“Embrace Our Curse”). The brooding intensity rife throughout Symptoms V subsides on The Dance of Tragedies, dispensing understated moments of levity that delightfully buoy the music in sharp contrast with Maladie’s typically self-serious style.1 This direction surprised me, and though it took several listens to fully digest the album, the result is beautifully refreshing.

As usual, performances across The Dance of Tragedies captivate with titillating zeal. The multi-pronged vocal attack cuts with a serrated edge via emotive cleans, dry barks, and some of the phlegmiest rasps I’ve heard this side of Stenched (“Vortex of Monotony”). Shared by Alexander Wenz and Déhà, the primary vocals inhabit unconventional stylings alongside traditional ones. “Vortex of Monotony” features several variants, including a hip-hop flavored spoken word in the latter half, while “The Dance of Tragedies” runs a marathon of deliveries that keeps The Dance of Tragedies handsomely off-kilter. Björn Köppler plays jack-of-all-trades, supplying chameleonic drums alongside sundry keys and strings, while Déhà contributes even more keys in addition to singing.2 Köppler and Alex Spalvieri share guitar duties, mostly strumming in tasteful restraint while sporadically unfettering a few bars of unbridled shredding (“Too Old to Die”) before yielding the spotlight to other instruments. In totality, The Dance of Tragedies enthralls with an assortment of performances that pulse with intrigue and vivacity, transporting listeners to a vibrant world all Maladie’s own.

Not uncommon for Maladie, The Dance of Tragedies clears the seventy-minute mark without feeling overlong. Sections of lengthier tracks, particularly “The Unknowable” and “On Inaccessible Paths, Pt. II,” dabble in passages that extend to the brink of their charm, yet never run out of gas. I credit this to Maladie’s exploration of atmosphere as they allow rippling riffs and melodies to play out like a stone cast into the middle of a lake, where the ensuing furrows stretch across the smooth horizon until they run their course. Bolstering the momentum of The Dance of Tragedies is the vast array of sounds the band conjures. The refrain played midway through “The Unknowable” reminds me of Mossgiver’s “The Cleansing Waters,” “Behind All Suns” summons comparisons to Hail Spirit Noir, and “Embrace Our Curse” and “On Inaccessible Paths, Pt. I” recall Pensées Nocturnes and Arcturus. Through it all, Maladie never ceases to sound like themselves, grazing other bands as reference points while never jeopardizing their own unmistakable identity.

There’s something about The Dance of Tragedies that ineffably connects with me on an emotional level. Despite the gravity Maladie typically instills in their compositions, The Dance frolics in the face of Tragedies and injects a dimension of playfulness and hope that leaves me spellbound each and every spin. This is an album that works best when absorbed in a single session, and though time is precious, Maladie rewards listeners with utter diversity, meticulously crafting a vibrant musical experience. Swelling strings, electrifying sax, dynamic pacing, and stirring songwriting unite for an absolute blast of avant-garde metal. While it might be weird enough not to appeal to everyone, when it hits, The Dance of Tragedies shakes the room with thunderous abandon. So break out your dancing shoes and get ready to boogie—Maladie has the cure for what ails you.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Apostasy Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

I initially stumbled across Germany’s Maladie last year with the fifth installment of their Symptoms EP series and immediately fell for their sax-forward, avant-garde black metal. A quick glimpse through Maladie’s back catalog revealed how late I was to the game. Formed in 2009, the band has already released seven full-lengths and five EPs since 2012. Now, eighth LP The Dance of Tragedies is upon us, continuing Maladie’s magnificently nutty approach to black metal by braiding strands of diverse aural fabrics into a singular tapestry that’s far-reaching, fascinating, and fancifully fun. Yet we mustn’t take for granted that just because a band does many things well, they’ve avoided pitfalls along the way. Does Maladie juke major missteps during The Dance of Tragedies?

My first time through The Dance of Tragedies was both exactly what I anticipated from Maladie and an abrupt detonation of my expectations. The outfit’s signature sound persists, finding Hauke Peters slinging the sax with soulful swagger while the rest of the band skitters between full-on black metal fury (the end of “Vortex of Monotony”), AOR tunefulness (“Behind All Suns”), and brief flashes of electronica (“Embrace Our Curse”). The brooding intensity rife throughout Symptoms V subsides on The Dance of Tragedies, dispensing understated moments of levity that delightfully buoy the music in sharp contrast with Maladie’s typically self-serious style.1 This direction surprised me, and though it took several listens to fully digest the album, the result is beautifully refreshing.

As usual, performances across The Dance of Tragedies captivate with titillating zeal. The multi-pronged vocal attack cuts with a serrated edge via emotive cleans, dry barks, and some of the phlegmiest rasps I’ve heard this side of Stenched (“Vortex of Monotony”). Shared by Alexander Wenz and Déhà, the primary vocals inhabit unconventional stylings alongside traditional ones. “Vortex of Monotony” features several variants, including a hip-hop flavored spoken word in the latter half, while “The Dance of Tragedies” runs a marathon of deliveries that keeps The Dance of Tragedies handsomely off-kilter. Björn Köppler plays jack-of-all-trades, supplying chameleonic drums alongside sundry keys and strings, while Déhà contributes even more keys in addition to singing.2 Köppler and Alex Spalvieri share guitar duties, mostly strumming in tasteful restraint while sporadically unfettering a few bars of unbridled shredding (“Too Old to Die”) before yielding the spotlight to other instruments. In totality, The Dance of Tragedies enthralls with an assortment of performances that pulse with intrigue and vivacity, transporting listeners to a vibrant world all Maladie’s own.

Not uncommon for Maladie, The Dance of Tragedies clears the seventy-minute mark without feeling overlong. Sections of lengthier tracks, particularly “The Unknowable” and “On Inaccessible Paths, Pt. II,” dabble in passages that extend to the brink of their charm, yet never run out of gas. I credit this to Maladie’s exploration of atmosphere as they allow rippling riffs and melodies to play out like a stone cast into the middle of a lake, where the ensuing furrows stretch across the smooth horizon until they run their course. Bolstering the momentum of The Dance of Tragedies is the vast array of sounds the band conjures. The refrain played midway through “The Unknowable” reminds me of Mossgiver’s “The Cleansing Waters,” “Behind All Suns” summons comparisons to Hail Spirit Noir, and “Embrace Our Curse” and “On Inaccessible Paths, Pt. I” recall Pensées Nocturnes and Arcturus. Through it all, Maladie never ceases to sound like themselves, grazing other bands as reference points while never jeopardizing their own unmistakable identity.

There’s something about The Dance of Tragedies that ineffably connects with me on an emotional level. Despite the gravity Maladie typically instills in their compositions, The Dance frolics in the face of Tragedies and injects a dimension of playfulness and hope that leaves me spellbound each and every spin. This is an album that works best when absorbed in a single session, and though time is precious, Maladie rewards listeners with utter diversity, meticulously crafting a vibrant musical experience. Swelling strings, electrifying sax, dynamic pacing, and stirring songwriting unite for an absolute blast of avant-garde metal. While it might be weird enough not to appeal to everyone, when it hits, The Dance of Tragedies shakes the room with thunderous abandon. So break out your dancing shoes and get ready to boogie—Maladie has the cure for what ails you.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Apostasy Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

German black/thrash/heavy metal trio Witching Hour return for your soul, eight long years since their last outburst ...and Silent Grief Shadows the Passing Moon. Alongside contemporaries like Nocturnal, Cruel Force, and Manzer, Witching Hour’s recent output has been well-received by critics and audiences alike. This puts the upcoming Decending… Where Time Has Ceased to Exist, Witching Hour’s fourth release in 20 years, in a prime position to compete well in its field. Will Descent… lead to greatness or will Witching Hour fumble the landing?

In some ways, they’ve threatened both. Witching Hour are an incredibly talented bunch, deftly straddling fences between black metal char, heavy metal righteousness, and thrash metal vitriol. Descending…’s warm and natural tones enhance these qualities, presenting a product that is easy on the ear while deadly to the spine. Songs build around long-form structures, with the shortest cut measuring over six minutes (not counting the fluffy instrumental intro), but overall runtime slots in at a tight 43 minutes. This makes repeat listens easy to approach. Sounds like everything is in place to secure a high score on the board, right?

Unfortunately, the songwriting lets Descending… down. Witching Hour’s latest epic suffers the same flaw as its predecessor: a lack of compositional dynamics and an overabundance of recycled parts. Each song taken out of the whole makes a compelling case. “Where Time Has Ceased to Exist” sets the bar quite high for the rest of the record, churning with a heavy metal swagger and roaring with spirit through epic leads, scorching tremolos, and thrashy switch-ups. Similarly, “Profane Resurrection of a Presumed Dead” hooks its claws into the brain with an insidious chorus bark and fiery guitar and percussion work. However, when unified as a whole, it’s all too easy to interchange phrases and measures between songs without fragmenting the experience. I can place my mark on two opposite sides—and stick a couple more pins in the center—and the same riffing motif, similar leads and flourishes, suspiciously familiar vocal runs, and the exact same bass-snare alternation greet me.

Doubly damning, epic 11-minute closer “…and Then Came the Flames” showcases all of these issues in a microcosm, establishing a concise summary of everything heard thus far. And just like the others, taken out of the album context, the song rocks. Reminiscent of the same kind of grand, hellish adventure that Bütcher so gloriously captures on 666 Goats Carry My Chariot, “…and Then Came the Flames” feels complete, exciting, and wild, at least at first. As the track progresses, recycled parts and pieces cheapen the experience until I’m desperate to jump off the boat as it reaches shore. This mirrors my experience with the album as a whole. Fun and entertaining in the initial throes, it becomes a slog to get through in remarkably short order. By the time the closer wraps up, I’ve heard multiple iterations of the same ideas, spliced and arranged to deceive me into believing, if only for a moment, that I could pick any of these songs (minus the opener proper) out of a lineup without a cheat sheet.

Confounding as it is, Witching Hour represents a clash between having great ideas and writing songs that don’t adequately support or develop them. Instead, Descending… drops their best work into a sea of repetitive structures and monotonous bloat in the hopes that observers might then discern and appreciate them. With at least a half dozen spins under my belt at the time of writing, I did indeed find worthy gems to take home—and when isolated from the collection, those gems really sparkle. However, those rewards don’t quite justify the expanse of fluff and drag that bog Descending… down. In another world where Witching Hour invoked a greater variety of techniques, tempos, and textures to fortify their compositions and bring reliability to excitement, this record would’ve been a barnburner. As it is, it never truly catches fire, and leaves me wanting.

Rating: Disappointing…
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 22nd, 2026

German black/thrash/heavy metal trio Witching Hour return for your soul, eight long years since their last outburst ...and Silent Grief Shadows the Passing Moon. Alongside contemporaries like Nocturnal, Cruel Force, and Manzer, Witching Hour’s recent output has been well-received by critics and audiences alike. This puts the upcoming Decending… Where Time Has Ceased to Exist, Witching Hour’s fourth release in 20 years, in a prime position to compete well in its field. Will Descent… lead to greatness or will Witching Hour fumble the landing?

In some ways, they’ve threatened both. Witching Hour are an incredibly talented bunch, deftly straddling fences between black metal char, heavy metal righteousness, and thrash metal vitriol. Descending…’s warm and natural tones enhance these qualities, presenting a product that is easy on the ear while deadly to the spine. Songs build around long-form structures, with the shortest cut measuring over six minutes (not counting the fluffy instrumental intro), but overall runtime slots in at a tight 43 minutes. This makes repeat listens easy to approach. Sounds like everything is in place to secure a high score on the board, right?

Unfortunately, the songwriting lets Descending… down. Witching Hour’s latest epic suffers the same flaw as its predecessor: a lack of compositional dynamics and an overabundance of recycled parts. Each song taken out of the whole makes a compelling case. “Where Time Has Ceased to Exist” sets the bar quite high for the rest of the record, churning with a heavy metal swagger and roaring with spirit through epic leads, scorching tremolos, and thrashy switch-ups. Similarly, “Profane Resurrection of a Presumed Dead” hooks its claws into the brain with an insidious chorus bark and fiery guitar and percussion work. However, when unified as a whole, it’s all too easy to interchange phrases and measures between songs without fragmenting the experience. I can place my mark on two opposite sides—and stick a couple more pins in the center—and the same riffing motif, similar leads and flourishes, suspiciously familiar vocal runs, and the exact same bass-snare alternation greet me.

Doubly damning, epic 11-minute closer “…and Then Came the Flames” showcases all of these issues in a microcosm, establishing a concise summary of everything heard thus far. And just like the others, taken out of the album context, the song rocks. Reminiscent of the same kind of grand, hellish adventure that Bütcher so gloriously captures on 666 Goats Carry My Chariot, “…and Then Came the Flames” feels complete, exciting, and wild, at least at first. As the track progresses, recycled parts and pieces cheapen the experience until I’m desperate to jump off the boat as it reaches shore. This mirrors my experience with the album as a whole. Fun and entertaining in the initial throes, it becomes a slog to get through in remarkably short order. By the time the closer wraps up, I’ve heard multiple iterations of the same ideas, spliced and arranged to deceive me into believing, if only for a moment, that I could pick any of these songs (minus the opener proper) out of a lineup without a cheat sheet.

Confounding as it is, Witching Hour represents a clash between having great ideas and writing songs that don’t adequately support or develop them. Instead, Descending… drops their best work into a sea of repetitive structures and monotonous bloat in the hopes that observers might then discern and appreciate them. With at least a half dozen spins under my belt at the time of writing, I did indeed find worthy gems to take home—and when isolated from the collection, those gems really sparkle. However, those rewards don’t quite justify the expanse of fluff and drag that bog Descending… down. In another world where Witching Hour invoked a greater variety of techniques, tempos, and textures to fortify their compositions and bring reliability to excitement, this record would’ve been a barnburner. As it is, it never truly catches fire, and leaves me wanting.

Rating: Disappointing…
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 22nd, 2026

Rain has started to leak into the ducts as Spring gets wetter and wetter. While I’m away, vacationing in a nice, dry, cloudy place, my minions are drenched and miserable. As it should be! But I’m still keeping tabs on their progress. Just because I’m having a great time somewhere else doesn’t mean these louts don’t have a quota to meet!

And meet their quota they shall, if only barely… BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s Sci-Fi Soundbites

Epigram // Obsolescent [March 6th, 2026 – Self Released]

Combining the melodic black metal of Thulcandra and Dissection with the symphonics of Fleshgod Apocalypse and SepticFlesh, Epigram dropped a tasty little morsel with their debut, Obsolescent. The trio from Los Angeles puts on a spirited performance that borders on thrash. Tim Cauley’s display on the kit is a dominant force as he furiously blast beats his way from one song to the next. He turns “Wrath of Betrayed” into a piece of blackened thrash and proves tireless across Obsolescent’s 27-minute runtime. The lively vocal performance of Luis Echevarria adds further to Epigram’s charm. His low growls may seem underpowered, but his delivery is energetic and fun. He’s also the source of the symphonic instrumentation, via synths, though this aspect is secondary. Sure, there’s some choral chants (“Myrmidon,” “The Usurper’s Throne”), strings (“Hour of Gods”), and other vaguely symphonic sounds, but Epigram is most focused on the blackened melodic stuff. Shadi Absi throws together some great riffs, particularly on “Empires,” a work of pure black ‘n roll. The showstopper is “Hour of Gods,” with some sweet riffs and terrific energy. This song alone makes Obsolescent a worthy spin. Rounding out the musicians is Sanjay Kumar (Inferi, Wormhole), who plays solos on “Wrath of Betrayed” and “No Sin.” This is a promising debut for an eager new band.

Kal-El // Astral Voyager Vol. 2 [March 20th, 2026 – Blues Funeral Recordings]

Sporting the greatest band name of all time, Kal-El have been blasting listeners with stoner doom since 2012. Astral Voyager Vol. 2 is the follow-up to last year’s Vol. 1, and these pyschedelians’s seventh album overall. It’s been seven years since Witches of Mars was unfairly pummeled by a Kryptonian frog, and now I’d like to do the band justice by rescuing them from our filter. On this astral voyage, you get the pleasure of listening to six songs and 42 minutes of laid-back stoner tunes with plenty of fuzzy riffs—perfect for cruising around the cosmos. Their riff-centric approach puts them in the Black Sabbath camp, and the riffs on the likes of “Juno” and “The Prophecy,” which has a “Children of the Grave” vibe, are tons of fun. Further cementing the Sabbath comp is the vocal performance of Ståle Rodvelt, who carries a resemblance to Ozzy in his delivery. Longer cuts take more exploratory routes, akin to Sleep, yet still feature plenty to get your head bobbin’. “Asteroid” opens up with some sweet riffs that sustain its near eight-minute frame, while “The Nine” will still have you singing along in the final of its ten minutes. 1 So if you are in the mood for something chill that won’t put you to sleep, something that has the riffs without the risk of elevating your blood pressure, you should spend some time with Kal-El.

Thus Spoke’s Tectonic Treat

Bong-Ra // Esoterik [March 20th, 2026 – Debemur Morti Productions]

Not having received promo, it was only upon visiting DM’s Bandcamp page while writing up Aversio Humanitatis that I realised Bong-Ra had released another album. Asked whether Esoterik would be leaning more into enigmatic doom or spiky industrial electronica, the shapeshifting Bong-Ra said “yes”. The music is built on layers of dense, gritty atmosphere undulating with bass, breakbeats, and distorted riffs. Vocals are maintained from Black Noise—half-spoken snarls blurred by noise, shifting between blunt tunefulness (“Serpentine Helix”) and gargling venom (“Machine Halo”)—but at least half of the space is devoted to the purely instrumental psychosis. The saxophone is back, adding bizarre elegance and chilling eeriness in equal measure. Sometimes, Esoterik seems to be pitting its sultry and acerbic natures against one another; that chamber jazz side can take one by surprise (“Pleasures of the Flesh,” “Duality of One”), sandwiched as it is between a more punishing industrialism, but Bong-Ra just about gets away with it. This could be down to Esoterik’s efficiency in establishing (new) grooves—rhythmic and stylistic. Opener “Harmony Cloak” dispels misgivings on its skittering electronic oddity with a chorus that strikes a stylish balance between melody and dissonance; “Machine Halo” later follows in its stride. It’s an album that earns its moniker, right down to the particular spelling, and is worth the dark diversion it requires.

Grin Reaper’s Kooky Curios

Surturian // II – Hessian Spears [March 13th, 2026 – Crawling Chaos]

A German thrash band named after the legendary fire giant and guardian of Muspelheim? And on their debut LP, they launch an unrelenting, venomous assault filled with sticky riffs and bopping bass grooves in under forty-five minutes? Sign me up! Surturian plays thrash that smacks of early Testament and Metallica fused with the epic melodies of latter-day Kreator—hell, vocalist Tim Krogull reeks of Mille’s rancorous vocals, even though his name hews closer to a Voivodian disposition. In addition to thrash influences, Surturian calls upon Maiden’s signature gallops (“Cimmerians Wrath”) and anthemic melodies (“⁠Night Stalker,” “Do What Thou Wilt”), inculcating a lofty grandeur throughout II – Hessian Spears. Further fanning Surturian’s flames, the outfit navigates a varied landscape that imbues each track with its own character while never straying too far from their core sound. Hard-hitting offensives (“Blood Witchery”), slinky licks (“Night Stalker”), and oddball songwriting (“Beneath a Dying Sky”2) unite into an album I’ve regularly returned to since discovering it. If you’re feeling unSurtain, take it from me—it’s always a good time for some Hessian aggression!

Barn // Crucibles [March 24th, 2026 – Self Released]

Thanks to a certain dude/guy in the comments section, Crucibles didn’t slip past me undetected. Despite their dubious band name, Barn dropped a humdinger slab of tech death back in March that oozes with references to Unquestionable Presence (Atheist), Focus (Cynic), and, to a lesser extent, Decrepit Birth.3 There are even moments that echo more subdued moments from recent Sallow Moth releases (“The Serpent’s Perpetual Shed”). Staccato bursts of guitar, pinch harmonics, and buttery, fretless bass glissandos epitomize what Barn offers, and they spread it thick and chunky all over Crucibles’ sixty-five-minute runtime. Rustic name notwithstanding, Barn’s latest sounds like a sci-fi adventure, supported by track names like “Black Hole Lens” and “Cymatics.” The fretless bass especially helps with the futuristic aesthetic, frictionlessly gliding through gusts of abrupt, otherworldly guitars that buffet tracks from all angles. Barn rarely offers reprieve during their unconventional onslaught, but tracks like “Forbidden Fruits,” “Cymatics,” and “The Defeater” achieve such heights that I don’t find myself needing one. In short, these Boise boys warp listeners to a different dimension on Crucibles, and though it runs a tad long, I haven’t been deterred yet from lighting up this Barnburner.

Dionysiaque // La Tourbe des Rêves [March 27th, 2026 – I, Voidhanger Records]

Dionysiaque dispenses a bizarre derivative of doom on La Tourbe des Rêves that’s sure to be equal parts captivating and divisive. Reaching into the bag of tricks defined by Cathedral, Black Sabbath, and Candlemass, Dionysiaque’s sophomore album lumbers and chugs with classic rock-inspired leads and firecracker songcraft that I find utterly enthralling. Songs like “Aaron,” “Hate Fruit,” and “The Two Headed Boy” spotlight Dionysiaque’s plaintive guitar wails, contributed by L.B. and Bruno Penserini, along with their savvy balance of somber atmospheres and rousing melodies. Buoying the guitar tandem, bassist Lethal lays down frolicking, fabulous thunder via absorbing countermelodies while drummer T.H. looses potent fills and rolls throughout. Soaring atop the instrumentation are N.C.’s unorthodox vocals, which will almost certainly be the sole determining factor in listeners’ ability to engage with La Tourbe des Rêves. His delivery recalls that of Mayhem’s Attila Csihar at his most operatically deranged, never lacking conviction yet occasionally overpowering and ostentatious. Still, I appreciate and enjoy the commitment to the unhinged performance, and although dialing it back a little would make Dionysiaque’s latest more accessible, I’ve come to love La Tourbe des Rêves without apology. So don’t be afraid to let a little love into your heart—go get debauched with Dionysiaque’s aphrodisiac.

Creeping Ivy’s Pandemonic Pleasure

Mammon’s Throne // My Body to the Worms [March 13th, 2026 – Hammerheart Records]

In advising his fellow fallen angels—recently expelled from Heaven—to turn Hell into a competing kingdom, Mammon projects that All Demons will ‘work ease out of pain / Through labor and endurance.’4 Satan doesn’t heed this advice, but the third LP from Mammon’s Throne arguably does. On My Body to the Worms, this Australian five-piece inflicts pleasurable pain upon metaldom via five filthy slabs of sludgy death-doom (plus two instrumental reprieves). Mammon’s Throne conjure Hooded Menace, Temple of Void, and (old) Worm in their proclivity for plodding tempos, swampy riffs, and gravely howls (“Elixir”). The album is also a labor of love for classic (death-) doom à la Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride, mixing gothy croons, ascendant melodicism, and haunting piano into the band’s sinister stew (“Every Day More Sickened,” “At the Threshold of Eternity”). Though the listener does need some endurance, as three of the five non-instrumentals hover in the 8–9 minute range, the record flows fluidly across an easy 42 minutes. If you ever wondered what metal in league with Mammon might sound like, give My Body to the Worms a spin.

Rain has started to leak into the ducts as Spring gets wetter and wetter. While I’m away, vacationing in a nice, dry, cloudy place, my minions are drenched and miserable. As it should be! But I’m still keeping tabs on their progress. Just because I’m having a great time somewhere else doesn’t mean these louts don’t have a quota to meet!

And meet their quota they shall, if only barely… BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s Sci-Fi Soundbites

Epigram // Obsolescent [March 6th, 2026 – Self Released]

Combining the melodic black metal of Thulcandra and Dissection with the symphonics of Fleshgod Apocalypse and SepticFlesh, Epigram dropped a tasty little morsel with their debut, Obsolescent. The trio from Los Angeles puts on a spirited performance that borders on thrash. Tim Cauley’s display on the kit is a dominant force as he furiously blast beats his way from one song to the next. He turns “Wrath of Betrayed” into a piece of blackened thrash and proves tireless across Obsolescent’s 27-minute runtime. The lively vocal performance of Luis Echevarria adds further to Epigram’s charm. His low growls may seem underpowered, but his delivery is energetic and fun. He’s also the source of the symphonic instrumentation, via synths, though this aspect is secondary. Sure, there’s some choral chants (“Myrmidon,” “The Usurper’s Throne”), strings (“Hour of Gods”), and other vaguely symphonic sounds, but Epigram is most focused on the blackened melodic stuff. Shadi Absi throws together some great riffs, particularly on “Empires,” a work of pure black ‘n roll. The showstopper is “Hour of Gods,” with some sweet riffs and terrific energy. This song alone makes Obsolescent a worthy spin. Rounding out the musicians is Sanjay Kumar (Inferi, Wormhole), who plays solos on “Wrath of Betrayed” and “No Sin.” This is a promising debut for an eager new band.

Kal-El // Astral Voyager Vol. 2 [March 20th, 2026 – Blues Funeral Recordings]

Sporting the greatest band name of all time, Kal-El have been blasting listeners with stoner doom since 2012. Astral Voyager Vol. 2 is the follow-up to last year’s Vol. 1, and these pyschedelians’s seventh album overall. It’s been seven years since Witches of Mars was unfairly pummeled by a Kryptonian frog, and now I’d like to do the band justice by rescuing them from our filter. On this astral voyage, you get the pleasure of listening to six songs and 42 minutes of laid-back stoner tunes with plenty of fuzzy riffs—perfect for cruising around the cosmos. Their riff-centric approach puts them in the Black Sabbath camp, and the riffs on the likes of “Juno” and “The Prophecy,” which has a “Children of the Grave” vibe, are tons of fun. Further cementing the Sabbath comp is the vocal performance of Ståle Rodvelt, who carries a resemblance to Ozzy in his delivery. Longer cuts take more exploratory routes, akin to Sleep, yet still feature plenty to get your head bobbin’. “Asteroid” opens up with some sweet riffs that sustain its near eight-minute frame, while “The Nine” will still have you singing along in the final of its ten minutes. 1 So if you are in the mood for something chill that won’t put you to sleep, something that has the riffs without the risk of elevating your blood pressure, you should spend some time with Kal-El.

Thus Spoke’s Tectonic Treat

Bong-Ra // Esoterik [March 20th, 2026 – Debemur Morti Productions]

Not having received promo, it was only upon visiting DM’s Bandcamp page while writing up Aversio Humanitatis that I realised Bong-Ra had released another album. Asked whether Esoterik would be leaning more into enigmatic doom or spiky industrial electronica, the shapeshifting Bong-Ra said “yes”. The music is built on layers of dense, gritty atmosphere undulating with bass, breakbeats, and distorted riffs. Vocals are maintained from Black Noise—half-spoken snarls blurred by noise, shifting between blunt tunefulness (“Serpentine Helix”) and gargling venom (“Machine Halo”)—but at least half of the space is devoted to the purely instrumental psychosis. The saxophone is back, adding bizarre elegance and chilling eeriness in equal measure. Sometimes, Esoterik seems to be pitting its sultry and acerbic natures against one another; that chamber jazz side can take one by surprise (“Pleasures of the Flesh,” “Duality of One”), sandwiched as it is between a more punishing industrialism, but Bong-Ra just about gets away with it. This could be down to Esoterik’s efficiency in establishing (new) grooves—rhythmic and stylistic. Opener “Harmony Cloak” dispels misgivings on its skittering electronic oddity with a chorus that strikes a stylish balance between melody and dissonance; “Machine Halo” later follows in its stride. It’s an album that earns its moniker, right down to the particular spelling, and is worth the dark diversion it requires.

Grin Reaper’s Kooky Curios

Surturian // II – Hessian Spears [March 13th, 2026 – Crawling Chaos]

A German thrash band named after the legendary fire giant and guardian of Muspelheim? And on their debut LP, they launch an unrelenting, venomous assault filled with sticky riffs and bopping bass grooves in under forty-five minutes? Sign me up! Surturian plays thrash that smacks of early Testament and Metallica fused with the epic melodies of latter-day Kreator—hell, vocalist Tim Krogull reeks of Mille’s rancorous vocals, even though his name hews closer to a Voivodian disposition. In addition to thrash influences, Surturian calls upon Maiden’s signature gallops (“Cimmerians Wrath”) and anthemic melodies (“⁠Night Stalker,” “Do What Thou Wilt”), inculcating a lofty grandeur throughout II – Hessian Spears. Further fanning Surturian’s flames, the outfit navigates a varied landscape that imbues each track with its own character while never straying too far from their core sound. Hard-hitting offensives (“Blood Witchery”), slinky licks (“Night Stalker”), and oddball songwriting (“Beneath a Dying Sky”2) unite into an album I’ve regularly returned to since discovering it. If you’re feeling unSurtain, take it from me—it’s always a good time for some Hessian aggression!

Barn // Crucibles [March 24th, 2026 – Self Released]

Thanks to a certain dude/guy in the comments section, Crucibles didn’t slip past me undetected. Despite their dubious band name, Barn dropped a humdinger slab of tech death back in March that oozes with references to Unquestionable Presence (Atheist), Focus (Cynic), and, to a lesser extent, Decrepit Birth.3 There are even moments that echo more subdued moments from recent Sallow Moth releases (“The Serpent’s Perpetual Shed”). Staccato bursts of guitar, pinch harmonics, and buttery, fretless bass glissandos epitomize what Barn offers, and they spread it thick and chunky all over Crucibles’ sixty-five-minute runtime. Rustic name notwithstanding, Barn’s latest sounds like a sci-fi adventure, supported by track names like “Black Hole Lens” and “Cymatics.” The fretless bass especially helps with the futuristic aesthetic, frictionlessly gliding through gusts of abrupt, otherworldly guitars that buffet tracks from all angles. Barn rarely offers reprieve during their unconventional onslaught, but tracks like “Forbidden Fruits,” “Cymatics,” and “The Defeater” achieve such heights that I don’t find myself needing one. In short, these Boise boys warp listeners to a different dimension on Crucibles, and though it runs a tad long, I haven’t been deterred yet from lighting up this Barnburner.

Dionysiaque // La Tourbe des Rêves [March 27th, 2026 – I, Voidhanger Records]

Dionysiaque dispenses a bizarre derivative of doom on La Tourbe des Rêves that’s sure to be equal parts captivating and divisive. Reaching into the bag of tricks defined by Cathedral, Black Sabbath, and Candlemass, Dionysiaque’s sophomore album lumbers and chugs with classic rock-inspired leads and firecracker songcraft that I find utterly enthralling. Songs like “Aaron,” “Hate Fruit,” and “The Two Headed Boy” spotlight Dionysiaque’s plaintive guitar wails, contributed by L.B. and Bruno Penserini, along with their savvy balance of somber atmospheres and rousing melodies. Buoying the guitar tandem, bassist Lethal lays down frolicking, fabulous thunder via absorbing countermelodies while drummer T.H. looses potent fills and rolls throughout. Soaring atop the instrumentation are N.C.’s unorthodox vocals, which will almost certainly be the sole determining factor in listeners’ ability to engage with La Tourbe des Rêves. His delivery recalls that of Mayhem’s Attila Csihar at his most operatically deranged, never lacking conviction yet occasionally overpowering and ostentatious. Still, I appreciate and enjoy the commitment to the unhinged performance, and although dialing it back a little would make Dionysiaque’s latest more accessible, I’ve come to love La Tourbe des Rêves without apology. So don’t be afraid to let a little love into your heart—go get debauched with Dionysiaque’s aphrodisiac.

Creeping Ivy’s Pandemonic Pleasure

Mammon’s Throne // My Body to the Worms [March 13th, 2026 – Hammerheart Records]

In advising his fellow fallen angels—recently expelled from Heaven—to turn Hell into a competing kingdom, Mammon projects that All Demons will ‘work ease out of pain / Through labor and endurance.’4 Satan doesn’t heed this advice, but the third LP from Mammon’s Throne arguably does. On My Body to the Worms, this Australian five-piece inflicts pleasurable pain upon metaldom via five filthy slabs of sludgy death-doom (plus two instrumental reprieves). Mammon’s Throne conjure Hooded Menace, Temple of Void, and (old) Worm in their proclivity for plodding tempos, swampy riffs, and gravely howls (“Elixir”). The album is also a labor of love for classic (death-) doom à la Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride, mixing gothy croons, ascendant melodicism, and haunting piano into the band’s sinister stew (“Every Day More Sickened,” “At the Threshold of Eternity”). Though the listener does need some endurance, as three of the five non-instrumentals hover in the 8–9 minute range, the record flows fluidly across an easy 42 minutes. If you ever wondered what metal in league with Mammon might sound like, give My Body to the Worms a spin.

Cards on the table—this review is late. Really late. We got the promo, but it went unclaimed, and it wasn’t until I picked up Lynx’s Trinity of Suns for personal enjoyment that I listened. Before I finished my first spin, I knew I had to Filter it. And that’s exactly what I did. I sat down to write my 200ish words about Lynx’s sophomore album, and the words spilled out. Too many, actually. I described how every subsequent journey through Trinity of Suns deepens my appreciation for Lynx’s retro rock, and soon I realized I had more to say than a limited word count would allow. Over the last month, Lynx has enraptured me with their sultry siren song, entrenching Trinity of Suns as a mainstay for commutes and chores. Rather than saving it as a Thing You Might Have Missed, though, I dared to write the counter-breaking missive I hoped my betters would permit. I begged. I cajoled. I cashed in the scant favors and political capital I’ve accrued since joining the staff to get this thing published. Was it worth it? If you’re reading these words, you’re damn right it was.

Between releasing 2021’s Watcher of Skies and follow-up Trinity of Suns, Lynx underwent a transformation I can only describe as transcendent. Huck N Roll offered some pointed criticism for their debut, a slab of 70s hard rock worship in the vein of Thin Lizzy and Blue Öyster Cult. Specifically, Huck noted that the songwriting was as unrefined as guitarist Marvin Keifer’s vocal performance, and the wanton surfeit of cymbals debilitated the listening experience. Five years later, Lynx obliterates whatever expectations listeners set based on Watcher of Skies. Most notably, Trinity of Suns introduces Amy Zine as full-time lead vocalist1—a decision that catapults Lynx’s potential into the Skies. Just as importantly, though, Lynx displays more restraint and maturity in their arrangements to wonderful effect.

Though the core of Lynx’s identity remains the same, the band deftly incorporates inspirations to elevate their sound. Rather than relegating the best moments to snappy intros, Trinity of Suns steeps its compositions in throwback, classic rock drama. “Stranger Sign in the Sky” boasts a Rushified break that harkens to “By-Tor and the Snow Dog,” while “Oppressive Season” starts with an intro that could pass for a lost Jimmy Buffet cut before tumbling into a Thin Lizzy tizzy. “Seven Days of Darkness,” meanwhile, melds the majesty of Pink Floyd psychedelia with the soulful intimacy of Tanith’s starkest emotional moments, eliciting a warm, heartfelt fuzz that pairs perfectly with the desert-ready palette Lynx paints with. The resulting thirty-nine minutes simmer with subtle heat, proving how the songwriting has evolved over the last half-decade.

\In addition to more fluid song structures, Lynx unchains stunning performances across Trinity of Suns. Amy Zine’s smoky vocals cut to my core, whether she’s belting out head-bopping choruses (“Island Universe”) or caressing with a tender croon (“Seven Days of Darkness”), and I simply cannot get enough. Still, as fabulous as her contributions are,2 they don’t carry Trinity of Suns alone. Everyone else in Lynx pitches in with guitars, though they’re primarily supplied by Tim Künz and Janni Athanasiadis. In addition to his gorgeous acoustic twangs on “Seven Days of Darkness,” Franz Fesel ably commands drums from the pocket while Phil Helm rumbles with luxurious yet understated bass. Honestly, Lynx’s low-end locks into such powerful grooves that Trinity of Suns would be undermined and underserved with a lesser performance, and if you need any convincing, go listen to the back-to-back tandem of “Oppressive Season” and “Trinity of Suns.”

Lynx is a band that understands the assignment, and Trinity of Suns should be enough to convince anyone that this kitty has claws. My only unfulfilled desire from Trinity of Suns is a three-minute banger nestled after “Voyager” or “Oppressive Season” where the entire band goes hog-fucking-wild. “Oppressive Season” comes closest, though holds back enough to avert the pandemonium I crave. With the talent Lynx brandishes, I’d love to hear them cut completely loose. Otherwise, Trinity of Suns accomplishes everything I want from a band of Lynx’s ilk, and each time “Island Universe” concludes, I’m left even more smitten. Whatever these cats do next, I’ll be there.

Rating: Great!
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Cards on the table—this review is late. Really late. We got the promo, but it went unclaimed, and it wasn’t until I picked up Lynx’s Trinity of Suns for personal enjoyment that I listened. Before I finished my first spin, I knew I had to Filter it. And that’s exactly what I did. I sat down to write my 200ish words about Lynx’s sophomore album, and the words spilled out. Too many, actually. I described how every subsequent journey through Trinity of Suns deepens my appreciation for Lynx’s retro rock, and soon I realized I had more to say than a limited word count would allow. Over the last month, Lynx has enraptured me with their sultry siren song, entrenching Trinity of Suns as a mainstay for commutes and chores. Rather than saving it as a Thing You Might Have Missed, though, I dared to write the counter-breaking missive I hoped my betters would permit. I begged. I cajoled. I cashed in the scant favors and political capital I’ve accrued since joining the staff to get this thing published. Was it worth it? If you’re reading these words, you’re damn right it was.

Between releasing 2021’s Watcher of Skies and follow-up Trinity of Suns, Lynx underwent a transformation I can only describe as transcendent. Huck N Roll offered some pointed criticism for their debut, a slab of 70s hard rock worship in the vein of Thin Lizzy and Blue Öyster Cult. Specifically, Huck noted that the songwriting was as unrefined as guitarist Marvin Keifer’s vocal performance, and the wanton surfeit of cymbals debilitated the listening experience. Five years later, Lynx obliterates whatever expectations listeners set based on Watcher of Skies. Most notably, Trinity of Suns introduces Amy Zine as full-time lead vocalist1—a decision that catapults Lynx’s potential into the Skies. Just as importantly, though, Lynx displays more restraint and maturity in their arrangements to wonderful effect.

Though the core of Lynx’s identity remains the same, the band deftly incorporates inspirations to elevate their sound. Rather than relegating the best moments to snappy intros, Trinity of Suns steeps its compositions in throwback, classic rock drama. “Stranger Sign in the Sky” boasts a Rushified break that harkens to “By-Tor and the Snow Dog,” while “Oppressive Season” starts with an intro that could pass for a lost Jimmy Buffet cut before tumbling into a Thin Lizzy tizzy. “Seven Days of Darkness,” meanwhile, melds the majesty of Pink Floyd psychedelia with the soulful intimacy of Tanith’s starkest emotional moments, eliciting a warm, heartfelt fuzz that pairs perfectly with the desert-ready palette Lynx paints with. The resulting thirty-nine minutes simmer with subtle heat, proving how the songwriting has evolved over the last half-decade.

\In addition to more fluid song structures, Lynx unchains stunning performances across Trinity of Suns. Amy Zine’s smoky vocals cut to my core, whether she’s belting out head-bopping choruses (“Island Universe”) or caressing with a tender croon (“Seven Days of Darkness”), and I simply cannot get enough. Still, as fabulous as her contributions are,2 they don’t carry Trinity of Suns alone. Everyone else in Lynx pitches in with guitars, though they’re primarily supplied by Tim Künz and Janni Athanasiadis. In addition to his gorgeous acoustic twangs on “Seven Days of Darkness,” Franz Fesel ably commands drums from the pocket while Phil Helm rumbles with luxurious yet understated bass. Honestly, Lynx’s low-end locks into such powerful grooves that Trinity of Suns would be undermined and underserved with a lesser performance, and if you need any convincing, go listen to the back-to-back tandem of “Oppressive Season” and “Trinity of Suns.”

Lynx is a band that understands the assignment, and Trinity of Suns should be enough to convince anyone that this kitty has claws. My only unfulfilled desire from Trinity of Suns is a three-minute banger nestled after “Voyager” or “Oppressive Season” where the entire band goes hog-fucking-wild. “Oppressive Season” comes closest, though holds back enough to avert the pandemonium I crave. With the talent Lynx brandishes, I’d love to hear them cut completely loose. Otherwise, Trinity of Suns accomplishes everything I want from a band of Lynx’s ilk, and each time “Island Universe” concludes, I’m left even more smitten. Whatever these cats do next, I’ll be there.

Rating: Great!
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Once, punk ruled my heart as jealously as metal. I loved the heart-in-hand abandon and DIY ethos of acts like Rise Against, Social Distortion, Bad Religion, and Descendants,1 and though I still do metal nonetheless won out as my root genre. But punk and metal have always overlapped, and when the two offshoots of rock tango together, great things can happen.2 German death metallers Arroganz have been carrying out this uneasy marriage since 2008, dropping six testaments of metallic brutality and punkish rebellion over the years. Longtime bassist/vocalist -K- and drummer -T- are joined by the newcomer guitarist -B- for lucky number seven, Death Doom Punks, a declaration of purpose if there’s ever been one. I love the attitude, but an album can’t live by ‘tude alone. Will Arroganz’s infusion of punkish qualities into the death metal elevate Death Doom Punks, or will it merely spell death/doom for these punks?

Other bands have put death riffs over d-beats before, but Arroganz channel early Immolation/Death through Black Flag/Discharge-like hardcore grime in a way that feels particularly vital on Death Doom Punks. Whether through blistering speeds like on “Pain Forged Armor” or diabolical groove on “Anti-Ideology,” Arroganz’s knack for aggressive and catchy riffcraft keeps a near-constant stankface plastered over my skull. Classic death metal walking riffs meet soaring doom bass leads on “Die for Nothing,” while “Death Doom Punks” marries hardcore and doom into a gloomy, potent combo that reminded me that Caskets Open exists. Songs on Death Doom Punks are brief and intentionally simple, but hear the spider-y basslines on “Earth’s Final Dose,” the gigantic belting and bass-work over “Under Scarred Skin,” or the gnarly death march of “Spirit Arsonist” and know that Arroganz supercharged everything they wrote with everything they had. Simply, Death Doom Punks is what it says it is, and it’s awesome.

That Death Doom Punks is Arroganz’s seventh album is no surprise, as their chemistry and chops are something else. Rhythmically, Arroganz seamlessly slide into a snarling breakdown one moment on “Arsenic Breath” and throw down thrash stampedes the next on “Incubus’ Veins.” -K- is a beast of a bassist and vocalist, littering Death Doom Punks with nimble and concussive bass riffs and punk-influenced leads while bellowing throaty, acerbic condemnations of society. -B- fits Arroganz like a fingerless glove, clobbering Death Doom Punks with crushing grooves on the title track,3 gnarled and disjointed leads on “Pain Forged Armor,” and entwining leads with -K-‘s bass licks on “Arsenic Breath.” Arroganz play well together, and Death Doom Punk’s organic production and surprisingly dynamic mix make it apparent. The snare pop right, the bass warbles and clicks right, the guitar is crunchy and deep and everything sits just right in the mix. Arroganz may be no-good punks, but Death Doom Punks is clearly the product of adamant professionals and experts of their craft.

Arroganz’s most critical success is in knowing when to switch something up. Again, Death Doom Punks’ songs are on the simple side, but Arroganz shuffle through riffs, refrains, and bridges often enough to spare the listener from boredom while affording ideas enough time to settle to save themselves from riff salad. Frequent tempo shifts electrify Death Doom Punks further, spinning “Spirit Arsonist”‘s plodding bass riff into a total death metal meltdown and opening “Die for Nothing”‘s relentless show of force in the bridge for a righteous display of bass-forward doom. Conversely, the relatively static one-two combo of “Incubus’ Veins” and “Earths Final Dose” mark Death Doom Punk’s low point. Though -K-‘s screams sound more cutting than usual on “Incubus’ Veins” and “Earths Final Dose” features some slick fills from -T-, they don’t offer as much diversity as the other tracks and feel a bit one-track as a result. But that stretch is an exception to the rule of Death Doom Punks, which is largely a wild ride front-to-back.

Death Doom Punks sees ass, and it kicks it, no questions asked. I had never heard a lick of Arroganz before diving into Death Doom Punks—the title just sounded funny to me—but they’ve quickly made a fan of me over the weeks. The riffs are relentless. The hooks are huge. Did I mention the bass lines rock? Arroganz are simply a potent entity who know who they are and what they do well, and it comes through on Death Doom Punks. You should know it, too.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Testimony Records
Websites: arroganz.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/arroganzgermany | www.arroganz.info
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

Once, punk ruled my heart as jealously as metal. I loved the heart-in-hand abandon and DIY ethos of acts like Rise Against, Social Distortion, Bad Religion, and Descendants,1 and though I still do metal nonetheless won out as my root genre. But punk and metal have always overlapped, and when the two offshoots of rock tango together, great things can happen.2 German death metallers Arroganz have been carrying out this uneasy marriage since 2008, dropping six testaments of metallic brutality and punkish rebellion over the years. Longtime bassist/vocalist -K- and drummer -T- are joined by the newcomer guitarist -B- for lucky number seven, Death Doom Punks, a declaration of purpose if there’s ever been one. I love the attitude, but an album can’t live by ‘tude alone. Will Arroganz’s infusion of punkish qualities into the death metal elevate Death Doom Punks, or will it merely spell death/doom for these punks?

Other bands have put death riffs over d-beats before, but Arroganz channel early Immolation/Death through Black Flag/Discharge-like hardcore grime in a way that feels particularly vital on Death Doom Punks. Whether through blistering speeds like on “Pain Forged Armor” or diabolical groove on “Anti-Ideology,” Arroganz’s knack for aggressive and catchy riffcraft keeps a near-constant stankface plastered over my skull. Classic death metal walking riffs meet soaring doom bass leads on “Die for Nothing,” while “Death Doom Punks” marries hardcore and doom into a gloomy, potent combo that reminded me that Caskets Open exists. Songs on Death Doom Punks are brief and intentionally simple, but hear the spider-y basslines on “Earth’s Final Dose,” the gigantic belting and bass-work over “Under Scarred Skin,” or the gnarly death march of “Spirit Arsonist” and know that Arroganz supercharged everything they wrote with everything they had. Simply, Death Doom Punks is what it says it is, and it’s awesome.

That Death Doom Punks is Arroganz’s seventh album is no surprise, as their chemistry and chops are something else. Rhythmically, Arroganz seamlessly slide into a snarling breakdown one moment on “Arsenic Breath” and throw down thrash stampedes the next on “Incubus’ Veins.” -K- is a beast of a bassist and vocalist, littering Death Doom Punks with nimble and concussive bass riffs and punk-influenced leads while bellowing throaty, acerbic condemnations of society. -B- fits Arroganz like a fingerless glove, clobbering Death Doom Punks with crushing grooves on the title track,3 gnarled and disjointed leads on “Pain Forged Armor,” and entwining leads with -K-‘s bass licks on “Arsenic Breath.” Arroganz play well together, and Death Doom Punk’s organic production and surprisingly dynamic mix make it apparent. The snare pop right, the bass warbles and clicks right, the guitar is crunchy and deep and everything sits just right in the mix. Arroganz may be no-good punks, but Death Doom Punks is clearly the product of adamant professionals and experts of their craft.

Arroganz’s most critical success is in knowing when to switch something up. Again, Death Doom Punks’ songs are on the simple side, but Arroganz shuffle through riffs, refrains, and bridges often enough to spare the listener from boredom while affording ideas enough time to settle to save themselves from riff salad. Frequent tempo shifts electrify Death Doom Punks further, spinning “Spirit Arsonist”‘s plodding bass riff into a total death metal meltdown and opening “Die for Nothing”‘s relentless show of force in the bridge for a righteous display of bass-forward doom. Conversely, the relatively static one-two combo of “Incubus’ Veins” and “Earths Final Dose” mark Death Doom Punk’s low point. Though -K-‘s screams sound more cutting than usual on “Incubus’ Veins” and “Earths Final Dose” features some slick fills from -T-, they don’t offer as much diversity as the other tracks and feel a bit one-track as a result. But that stretch is an exception to the rule of Death Doom Punks, which is largely a wild ride front-to-back.

Death Doom Punks sees ass, and it kicks it, no questions asked. I had never heard a lick of Arroganz before diving into Death Doom Punks—the title just sounded funny to me—but they’ve quickly made a fan of me over the weeks. The riffs are relentless. The hooks are huge. Did I mention the bass lines rock? Arroganz are simply a potent entity who know who they are and what they do well, and it comes through on Death Doom Punks. You should know it, too.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Testimony Records
Websites: arroganz.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/arroganzgermany | www.arroganz.info
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

Seems like the Filtration system is overburdened once again. Normally, my minions have to scavenge much longer to pick things up this early in the year, but 2026 is proving to be rich in moderately precious metallic ore. That just means I gotta push my team even harder to pull greater loads of filth from the ducts!

As I send them in for yet another round, please enjoy the spoils thus far exploited. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Tattered Tome

Overtoun // Death Drive Anthropology [February 13th, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

Chilean progressive death thrash outfit Overtoun is what you get when you mix old school Death and Atheist with the proggier side of Pestilence, then amp the thrash up by a half turn. At a lofty 50 minutes, you’d expect third release Death Drive Anthropology to drag on, but to make that assumption is to criminally underestimate Overtoun’s creativity and versatility. Opening up the throttle in fine form, the one-two punch of “What Unites All (ft. Max Phelps) and “The Final Beat” manages to encompass many of these Chileans’ songwriting and performance skills in a scant 10 minutes. More introspective, nuanced songwriting takes center stage throughout Anthropology’s midsection, balancing smart melodies and minimalist atmosphere with complex guitar layering, proggy structures, and shreddy wizardry (“Dur Khrod,” “Jade, Gold, Obsidian,” “Yurei,” “Weeping”). The three-part “The Waves Suite” suite adds a mystical character to the affair that blends remarkably well with Overtoun’s more overt political messaging and emotional textures, which helps carry the record through its lengthy runtime without causing fatigue. It’s a neat record that’s modestly blemished by a bass presence that begs for more weight and wildness, especially considering the raw talent on hand. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for a creative, thoughtful, and sophisticated entry into the death/thrash progosphere, Death Drive Anthropology makes a strong case.

Andy-War-Hall’s Primordial Pick-Up

The Grand Myth // Of Vultures and Dragons [February 26th, 2026 – Suncrusher Recordings]

I have a grossly limited capacity for seriousness. Yeah, I like my death metal progressive, technical, and thoughtful, much the way Brandon Bordman’s The Grand Myth deliver it on their latest record, Of Vultures and Dragons, but sometimes I just want fun, too. Of Vultures and Dragons, an adaptation of Ethan Pettus’ novel series Primitive War1 in which a rescue team searches a Vietnamese jungle for a missing platoon of Green Berets and fights for their lives against dinosaurs, has fun in spades. Utilizing a many-layered guitar attack (“Symbiotic Death”), shifting and propulsive rhythms (“Through the River Styx”), a wide cast of voice actors for brief narrative bits2 and surprisingly bright tones (“Agony”), The Grand Myth’s approach to progressive death metal isn’t revolutionary, but it’s deeply refreshing and engaging regardless. Though an absolute blast, The Grand Myth doesn’t spew embarrassingly stupid levels of campiness with their sci-fi dinosaur theming like Victorius. Rather, Of Vultures and Dragons can be fairly emotionally effective at times thanks to Bordman’s emotive clean/harsh vocals and elaborate soloing (“Pyre,” “Agony”). Nobody asks about your favorite dinosaur anymore,3 so feed your inner kid with The Grand Myth’s Of Vultures and Dragons now!

Saunders’ Sunken Shards

Puscifer// Normal Isn’t [February 6th, 2026 – Alchemy Recordings]

After losing track of recent offerings, I reacquainted myself with the latest LP from Puscifer, leaving me pleasantly surprised in the aftermath. The project featuring Tool/A Perfect Circle frontman Maynard James Keenan returned for their first hit out since 2020’s Existential Reckoning. Normal Isn’t finds the shape-shifting project embracing its quirky, gothy industrial rock and electronic elements through an angsty filter of guitar-driven arty rock, post-punk, and infectious songcraft. Age should not weary Maynard, as he still sounds angry, cynical, and on point vocally through a mostly engaging, catchy bag of tunes. The dueling vocal melodies with collaborator Carina Round’s ghostly singing work a treat amidst jittery beats, angular riffs and strong electronic overtones. Rhythmically, it is an interesting ride, drummer Gunnar Olsen putting in a top-notch performance, while there is a vaguely progressive edge underlying the hook-centric songwriting. Opener “Thrust” sets the album in motion with sticky hooks, a darkly humorous, unhinged Maynard performance, and a dose of spite. Other key highlights include “Bad Wolf,” “Self Evident,” “A Public Stoning,” and “ImpetuoUs.” Puscifer made a fine return with Normal Isn’t.

Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows // Inexorable Opposites [February 6th, 2026 – Magnetic Eye Records]

You’ve gotta love a sneaky name drop from our trusty commentariat. It has led to many great discoveries over the years. On this occasion, one of our dear commenters enlightened me to Melbourne psych-blues-doomers Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows with fourth LP, Inexorable Opposites. And it didn’t take long absorbing this latest slab of rustic Aussie coolness to be struck by the album’s slow-burning, addictive power, and gritty tones. Boasting an expansive, rugged sound built on layers of distortion and a weighty blend of psych-drenched blues and doom heaviness. Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows features old school, outlaw-driven lyrical content from mastermind and vocalist/guitarist Tim Coutts-Smith, meshing fictional tales of woe and adventure of character Jack Harlon, with relatable real-life struggles. Through the fuzz, thick jammy vibes, and Coutts-Smith distorted, menacing Aussie drawl, catchy songcraft shines through the muck and psych haze. From the tense, stoner-infected grit and catchy hooks of opener “Moss,” through to the stormy outback balladry of closer “To Die,” Inexorable Opposites is a hard-hitting, riffy delight, further evidenced through scorched earth, infectious cuts like “Venomous,” “Seer,” and the trippy, drug-addled “Mt. Macedon.”

Grin Reaper’s Reaped Recluse

Cold Communion // Monuments to Ruin [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Melodic death/doom isn’t a genre I dabble in often, but every now and again, one of its bands thwarts my defenses and wraps their tendrils around my precious listening time. Durham, North Carolina’s Cold Communion is one such band, featuring Barre Gambling (Daylight Dies) on guitar and Tim Rowland (Alchemy of Flesh, Silent Vigil) on everything else. If that sounds like an unfair split, take a spin and reassess, because Gambling’s performance defines Cold Communion’s melancholic character as much as Rowland’s emotive growl. Forgoing any long-form doom epics, Monuments to Ruin’s longest song comes in at five-and-a-half minutes, with the entire album clocking just forty-five. It’s a tidy platter, and both in song composition and mood shares ample common ground with Finnish sadbois Insomnium. Besides Monuments’ superior production, songs like “A Stillness Survival” and “When the Light Breaks” wouldn’t feel out of place on Across the Dark or One for Sorrow. And despite the somber trappings one might expect from doom-adjacency, there’s plenty of lively riffing and solos to find across Monuments to Ruin, adding a touch of boom to the gloom. In the end, Cold Communion doesn’t reinvent the genre or break new ground, but Monuments to Ruin offers a comfy chair by the fireside on a freezing cold day, and I’m perfectly content with that.

Mossgiver // Renewer [February 6th, 2026 – Sij MusicArt]

Atmospheric black metal often contrasts the beautiful with the bestial, typically prioritizing moods over hooks. ‘Twas a delight, then, to unearth Mossgiver’s Renewal, which deftly combines the two. Weaving together hypnotic passages flooded with strings, piano, flute, synths, double bass rolls, and the requisite blackened tremolos,4 Mossgiver’s mastermind Tilen Šimon (Ueldes) delivers the band’s best record to date. Above all, Renewer sounds like a celebration of nature in the vein of Autrest and Cân Bardd, evoking a whispering wind whipping at leaves or sunlight dappling a brook shaded by oaks and maples. Beyond the well-crafted soundtrack for a walk through the woods, Mossgiver etches emotion into the nooks and crannies of Renewer’s five tracks. From rousing string orchestrations (“I Bring the Spring with Me”) to soft-and-heavy tradeoffs pitting clean guitar and pan pipes against distorted guitar and blast beats (“Renewer”), Mossgiver shimmers with a lush backdrop of instrumentation rife with playfulness and pensiveness. The trio of primary songs5 revolve around powerful melodies that evolve over each track’s duration, with assorted instruments coming in and out to push refrains along. Renewer’s brisk thirty-four minutes showcase Mossgiver’s sticky compositions and leave me whistling its melodies for days at a time. Now throw on your hiking boots and get lost in the Moss.

Ossomancer // Banebdjed’s Path [February 28th, 2026 – Esoteric Evocations]

Six-and-a-half years removed from Ossomancer’s debut Artes Magickae, lone wolf and mastermind Kamose returns to tread Banebjed’s Path. Bursting with references to mythology and mysticism, Banebjed’s Path rumbles and shakes with arcane thunder. Although the backdrop and track names might recall the frenzied onslaught of Nile, Ossomancer instead conceives a realm recalling Aeternam, Iotunn, and Naglfar. Despite the scant thirty-four-minute runtime, Banebjed’s Path sprawls across diverse landscapes and textures. Opener “The Ogdoad Arrangement and the Osirian Creation” oscillates between In Flames melodies and a slinky crawl that could pass for a 90s Geddy Lee bass line played over synth injections from Rush’s 80s era. Follow-up track “Sobek – Cosmic Vibrations Devoured” features Kreator-bred riffing, while closing duo “A Sea of Sand, a Silver Star” and “Retraction into Kether” synthesize the ethereal atmospheres of Iotunn with the blackened assault of Naglfar. Through it all, Ossomancer sounds fabulous, as Banebjed’s Path flaunts an enviable DR 8 and a bodacious mix that spotlights its burly bass performance. Ossomancer’s sophomore outing is crammed with meloblack goodies, and though it’s not a long trek, the journey down Banebjed’s Path far transcends its distance.

Tyme’s Danish Dalliance

Ædel Fetich // Ædel Fetich [February 20th, 2026 – Deadbanger Productions]

That blinged-out pink dish-glove-clad hand is what first drew me to Denmark outfit Ædel Fetich’s self-titled debut. Then I clicked play and was taken on one of the more compelling “black” metal rides in recent memory. With roots primarily buried in the soil of the traditional second-wave, Ædel Fetich is rife with moments of rifferous tremolodic speed (“Ridderlig Lider,” “Madras”) and absolutely berserk guitar chaos (“Sort Magi”). There’s a Trhä-like sense of experimentation, and the rawness of the production enhances the oft-changing compositions, which, like weather in the Midwest, often shift on a dime without warning. Luckily, Ædel Fetich’s adept songwriting organically smooths these transitions, which could have easily come off stilted and jarring, but makes drawing direct comparisons to the Ædel Fetich sound difficult, as there’s a spectrum of other influences at play. There are tracks packed with punky punch (“Et Liv Fuld af Fejl,” “Ildtang”) or imbued with folky reverence (“Mit Billede af Dig”) and even some 80s pop—fans of the movie Flashdance shouldn’t have a problem finding the poppy easter egg hiding near the end of “Sort Magi.”6 Far and away the star of the show, however, is singer Skvat, whose performance is filled with as much black metal bravado as it is theatrical exuberance, his arsenal of shrieks, growls, hoots, howls, and operatic baritonations a refreshing treat, akin to if Mike Patton woke up one day deciding to record a Danish black metal album. Bottom line is, I really dig Ædel Fetich and think you will too.

Creeping Ivy’s Ashen Afterthought

Belzebong // The End is High [February 20th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

In my humble opinion, lyrics are key to making stoner metal more than novelty music. If you’re referencing reefer in your album art, band name, and song titles, at least keep the reeferisms out of the songs themselves,7 or better yet, avoid vocals altogether. Taking this latter advice to heart is instrumental Polish four-piece Belzebong, who have been at it for almost 20 years now. On The End is High, their fourth full-length, Belzebong deal 35 minutes of fuzzed-out riffery described as “a new sermon for the final days.” While not as highbrow (huh huh) as the instrumental stoner metal of Bongripper, Belzebong are similarly ominous on opener (yes) “Bong & Chain,” which caps its ten-minute burn with creepy, haunting synths. From there, the band settle into material more akin to Bongzilla; sound clips adorn the chill grooves of “420 Horsemen,” “Hempnotized,” and “Reefer Mortis,” which closes things out with some solid Electric Wizard worship. If you instinctively (and understandably) recoil from music with marijuana aesthetics but dig the meditative repetition offered by stoner metal, consider sampling The End is High. It’s not exactly the caricature it advertises itself as.

Baguette’s Bygone Bounty

Sundecay // The Blood Lives Again [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Toronto’s Sundecay has been around for a while. These Canadian doomers spawned sometime prior to 2014, quietly releasing EP material every once in a blue moon. The Blood Lives Again is their first full-length release—their first signs of life since 2018 in general—and the time and care they took to develop their sound and songwriting prowess pays off here in spades. The doom and proto-doom inspirations from Black Sabbath to Saint Vitus are obvious (“Here Comes the Wizard”), complemented by other influences from proto-metal, psychedelic, and progressive music (“Silence Spoken”). The hefty, layered guitars have a nice fuzz without fully landing in stoner territory. Ambitious long-form tracks like “Will Dusk Defy Dawn” flow like water while carrying significant emotional heft. Lastly, a moody, reverb-heavy vocal performance crowns the classic doom trance the band is aiming for. At five tracks and some 43 minutes, The Blood Lives Again is a total vibe and flies by before you’ve even noticed. Fans of the ’70s should take notes!

Temple Balls // Temple Balls [February 13th, 2026 – Frontiers Music]

One of the most authentic ways you can honor rock music tradition is via questionable naming conventions. On an unrelated note, Temple Balls is a Finnish hard rock/glam rock band, and they’re fun as hell! They’re not particularly new around the block, either: the group formed in 2009, and self-titled Temple Balls is already their fifth album since debut Traded Dreams in 2017. 2023’s Avalanche felt like a watershed moment, a welcome surprise that brought some new life and energy to a fairly dated genre of Europeisms and Hanoi Rocks rehashes. Temple Balls proves that Avalanche wasn’t a one-off, continuing their extremely authentic throwback approach. The heavy/power-metal-meets-AOR direction of songwriting (“Flashback Dynamite,” “Soul Survivor”) gives it that extra guitar oomph and energy that melodic music like this requires to be anywhere near competitive. With great all-out vocals from Arde Teronen and gigantic hooks to match, it’s just a damn good time front to back. Though it will sadly be the last time we’ll hear Niko Vuorela’s guitar work on record (R.I.P., and fuck cancer), the self-titled is certainly a worthy final milestone for him—and hopefully, another beginning for his comrades.

ClarkKent’s Enchanting Earworm

Hela // A Reign to Conquer [February 27, 2026 – Ardua Music]

Just as it put a pause on many plans and projects, the COVID pandemic slowed down the output of Spain’s Hela. A Reign to Conquer marks their first record since 2019’s Vegvìsir, which was their third release since 2013. This brief hiatus brought new blood in the form of vocalist Raquel Navarro, though, in truth, the only consistency in Hela’s lineup is the other three members—Tano Giménez on bass, Miguel Fernández (The Holeum) on drums, and Julián Velasco (The Holeum) on guitars. They have a deep bond, first forged in 2009 with The Sand Collector before forming Hela just three years later. Though they brand Hela as melodic doom, and the band does have a little in common with Katatonia, I think it’s more accurate to describe them as dreamy progressive rock. Navarro is a major reason for this, with dreamy croons that guide listeners through breezy soundscapes. She bears a passing resemblance to Maud the Moth, though the music Hela plays is decidedly more metal than our Dolphin friend’s favorite nocturnal insect. Guitarist Velasco plays a hypnotizing mix of atmospheric fuzz, crushing doom, and melodic riffs that add some heft and crunch to the ethereal sound. A Reign to Conquer has plenty of layers to probe, rewarding listeners who bear with it for repeat listens. While my initial spins left me wanting, I’ve since become spellbound. Add to that some gorgeous artwork, and this is a nice addition to anyone’s vinyl collection. Hela yeah!

Spicie Forrest’s Vicious Vittles

A Wilhelm Scream8 // Cheap Heat [February 27th, 2026 – Creator-Destructor Records]

A Wilhelm Scream9 returns after a four-year hiatus with their eighth long player, Cheap Heat. Sounding like the best combination of The Story So Far and Rise Against, A Wilhelm Scream delivers an impressive tour de force so late in their career. Vocalist Nuno Pereira10 is the highlight of Cheap Heat, driving the album with urgency and passion (“Somebody’s Gonna Die,” “Fell Off”), but no one here is a slouch. The rhythm section—bassist Brian J. Robinson, rhythm guitarist Trevor Reilly, and drummer Nicholas Pasquale Angelini—gleefully tosses gas on Pereira’s bonfire (“I Got Tunnel Vision”) and delivers solid grooves (“Poison II”) and searing ragers (“Unsolving the Mystery”) that keep the energy cranked to 11 all through Cheap Heat. Hooks are by far the most common lead duty, and Ben Murray puts on a fucking clinic. Each note that rings out from his axe sounds like it fucking owns the place (“Run,” “Visitor: Unimpressed”). Cheap Heat is a smidge front-loaded with “Midnight Ghost” and “I Got Tunnel Vision” being album highlights, but no song on here is anything short of a barn burner. At a super tight 28 minutes, Cheap Heat hits hard and fast and gets the fuck out of Dodge before you’re even sure what hit you. I didn’t expect a 26-year-old hardcore outfit to knock my teeth out when I queued it up on a whim one morning, but Cheap Heat is proving to be one of my favorite albums of the year.

Lead Injector // Witching Attack [February 20th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Who doesn’t like the combination of thrash’s unchained aggression and black metal’s cold hate? There’s never been a better pair. Lead Injector hit the ground running on debut LP Witching Attack. From the opening moments of “Siege Upon Heaven” to the closing moments of “Nuclear Antichrist,” Lead Injector is here to do two things: feed high-speed buckshot to God, skeletons, and anything else that gets in their way, and have a Hellripping good time. “Angel Destructor” and “Siege Upon Heaven” barrel pell-mell through searing riffs and blast beats, while groovier tracks like “Evil Executioner” and “Nuclear Antichrist” let black metal’s punk ancestry shine through. Heavy metal influences a la Judas Priest can be found injected into tracks like “Sacrifice This Bitch” and “M.C.C.I.” While nothing about Lead Injector’s sound is particularly new, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing. This debut is a unique and retro spin on a tried-and-true formula that bodes well for a young band. Witching Attack is a killer time that Ash Williams would gladly spin while boomsticking Deadites alongside Lord Arthur’s army.

Seems like the Filtration system is overburdened once again. Normally, my minions have to scavenge much longer to pick things up this early in the year, but 2026 is proving to be rich in moderately precious metallic ore. That just means I gotta push my team even harder to pull greater loads of filth from the ducts!

As I send them in for yet another round, please enjoy the spoils thus far exploited. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Tattered Tome

Overtoun // Death Drive Anthropology [February 13th, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

Chilean progressive death thrash outfit Overtoun is what you get when you mix old school Death and Atheist with the proggier side of Pestilence, then amp the thrash up by a half turn. At a lofty 50 minutes, you’d expect third release Death Drive Anthropology to drag on, but to make that assumption is to criminally underestimate Overtoun’s creativity and versatility. Opening up the throttle in fine form, the one-two punch of “What Unites All (ft. Max Phelps) and “The Final Beat” manages to encompass many of these Chileans’ songwriting and performance skills in a scant 10 minutes. More introspective, nuanced songwriting takes center stage throughout Anthropology’s midsection, balancing smart melodies and minimalist atmosphere with complex guitar layering, proggy structures, and shreddy wizardry (“Dur Khrod,” “Jade, Gold, Obsidian,” “Yurei,” “Weeping”). The three-part “The Waves Suite” suite adds a mystical character to the affair that blends remarkably well with Overtoun’s more overt political messaging and emotional textures, which helps carry the record through its lengthy runtime without causing fatigue. It’s a neat record that’s modestly blemished by a bass presence that begs for more weight and wildness, especially considering the raw talent on hand. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for a creative, thoughtful, and sophisticated entry into the death/thrash progosphere, Death Drive Anthropology makes a strong case.

Andy-War-Hall’s Primordial Pick-Up

The Grand Myth // Of Vultures and Dragons [February 26th, 2026 – Suncrusher Recordings]

I have a grossly limited capacity for seriousness. Yeah, I like my death metal progressive, technical, and thoughtful, much the way Brandon Bordman’s The Grand Myth deliver it on their latest record, Of Vultures and Dragons, but sometimes I just want fun, too. Of Vultures and Dragons, an adaptation of Ethan Pettus’ novel series Primitive War1 in which a rescue team searches a Vietnamese jungle for a missing platoon of Green Berets and fights for their lives against dinosaurs, has fun in spades. Utilizing a many-layered guitar attack (“Symbiotic Death”), shifting and propulsive rhythms (“Through the River Styx”), a wide cast of voice actors for brief narrative bits2 and surprisingly bright tones (“Agony”), The Grand Myth’s approach to progressive death metal isn’t revolutionary, but it’s deeply refreshing and engaging regardless. Though an absolute blast, The Grand Myth doesn’t spew embarrassingly stupid levels of campiness with their sci-fi dinosaur theming like Victorius. Rather, Of Vultures and Dragons can be fairly emotionally effective at times thanks to Bordman’s emotive clean/harsh vocals and elaborate soloing (“Pyre,” “Agony”). Nobody asks about your favorite dinosaur anymore,3 so feed your inner kid with The Grand Myth’s Of Vultures and Dragons now!

Saunders’ Sunken Shards

Puscifer// Normal Isn’t [February 6th, 2026 – Alchemy Recordings]

After losing track of recent offerings, I reacquainted myself with the latest LP from Puscifer, leaving me pleasantly surprised in the aftermath. The project featuring Tool/A Perfect Circle frontman Maynard James Keenan returned for their first hit out since 2020’s Existential Reckoning. Normal Isn’t finds the shape-shifting project embracing its quirky, gothy industrial rock and electronic elements through an angsty filter of guitar-driven arty rock, post-punk, and infectious songcraft. Age should not weary Maynard, as he still sounds angry, cynical, and on point vocally through a mostly engaging, catchy bag of tunes. The dueling vocal melodies with collaborator Carina Round’s ghostly singing work a treat amidst jittery beats, angular riffs and strong electronic overtones. Rhythmically, it is an interesting ride, drummer Gunnar Olsen putting in a top-notch performance, while there is a vaguely progressive edge underlying the hook-centric songwriting. Opener “Thrust” sets the album in motion with sticky hooks, a darkly humorous, unhinged Maynard performance, and a dose of spite. Other key highlights include “Bad Wolf,” “Self Evident,” “A Public Stoning,” and “ImpetuoUs.” Puscifer made a fine return with Normal Isn’t.

Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows // Inexorable Opposites [February 6th, 2026 – Magnetic Eye Records]

You’ve gotta love a sneaky name drop from our trusty commentariat. It has led to many great discoveries over the years. On this occasion, one of our dear commenters enlightened me to Melbourne psych-blues-doomers Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows with fourth LP, Inexorable Opposites. And it didn’t take long absorbing this latest slab of rustic Aussie coolness to be struck by the album’s slow-burning, addictive power, and gritty tones. Boasting an expansive, rugged sound built on layers of distortion and a weighty blend of psych-drenched blues and doom heaviness. Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows features old school, outlaw-driven lyrical content from mastermind and vocalist/guitarist Tim Coutts-Smith, meshing fictional tales of woe and adventure of character Jack Harlon, with relatable real-life struggles. Through the fuzz, thick jammy vibes, and Coutts-Smith distorted, menacing Aussie drawl, catchy songcraft shines through the muck and psych haze. From the tense, stoner-infected grit and catchy hooks of opener “Moss,” through to the stormy outback balladry of closer “To Die,” Inexorable Opposites is a hard-hitting, riffy delight, further evidenced through scorched earth, infectious cuts like “Venomous,” “Seer,” and the trippy, drug-addled “Mt. Macedon.”

Grin Reaper’s Reaped Recluse

Cold Communion // Monuments to Ruin [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Melodic death/doom isn’t a genre I dabble in often, but every now and again, one of its bands thwarts my defenses and wraps their tendrils around my precious listening time. Durham, North Carolina’s Cold Communion is one such band, featuring Barre Gambling (Daylight Dies) on guitar and Tim Rowland (Alchemy of Flesh, Silent Vigil) on everything else. If that sounds like an unfair split, take a spin and reassess, because Gambling’s performance defines Cold Communion’s melancholic character as much as Rowland’s emotive growl. Forgoing any long-form doom epics, Monuments to Ruin’s longest song comes in at five-and-a-half minutes, with the entire album clocking just forty-five. It’s a tidy platter, and both in song composition and mood shares ample common ground with Finnish sadbois Insomnium. Besides Monuments’ superior production, songs like “A Stillness Survival” and “When the Light Breaks” wouldn’t feel out of place on Across the Dark or One for Sorrow. And despite the somber trappings one might expect from doom-adjacency, there’s plenty of lively riffing and solos to find across Monuments to Ruin, adding a touch of boom to the gloom. In the end, Cold Communion doesn’t reinvent the genre or break new ground, but Monuments to Ruin offers a comfy chair by the fireside on a freezing cold day, and I’m perfectly content with that.

Mossgiver // Renewer [February 6th, 2026 – Sij MusicArt]

Atmospheric black metal often contrasts the beautiful with the bestial, typically prioritizing moods over hooks. ‘Twas a delight, then, to unearth Mossgiver’s Renewal, which deftly combines the two. Weaving together hypnotic passages flooded with strings, piano, flute, synths, double bass rolls, and the requisite blackened tremolos,4 Mossgiver’s mastermind Tilen Šimon (Ueldes) delivers the band’s best record to date. Above all, Renewer sounds like a celebration of nature in the vein of Autrest and Cân Bardd, evoking a whispering wind whipping at leaves or sunlight dappling a brook shaded by oaks and maples. Beyond the well-crafted soundtrack for a walk through the woods, Mossgiver etches emotion into the nooks and crannies of Renewer’s five tracks. From rousing string orchestrations (“I Bring the Spring with Me”) to soft-and-heavy tradeoffs pitting clean guitar and pan pipes against distorted guitar and blast beats (“Renewer”), Mossgiver shimmers with a lush backdrop of instrumentation rife with playfulness and pensiveness. The trio of primary songs5 revolve around powerful melodies that evolve over each track’s duration, with assorted instruments coming in and out to push refrains along. Renewer’s brisk thirty-four minutes showcase Mossgiver’s sticky compositions and leave me whistling its melodies for days at a time. Now throw on your hiking boots and get lost in the Moss.

Ossomancer // Banebdjed’s Path [February 28th, 2026 – Esoteric Evocations]

Six-and-a-half years removed from Ossomancer’s debut Artes Magickae, lone wolf and mastermind Kamose returns to tread Banebjed’s Path. Bursting with references to mythology and mysticism, Banebjed’s Path rumbles and shakes with arcane thunder. Although the backdrop and track names might recall the frenzied onslaught of Nile, Ossomancer instead conceives a realm recalling Aeternam, Iotunn, and Naglfar. Despite the scant thirty-four-minute runtime, Banebjed’s Path sprawls across diverse landscapes and textures. Opener “The Ogdoad Arrangement and the Osirian Creation” oscillates between In Flames melodies and a slinky crawl that could pass for a 90s Geddy Lee bass line played over synth injections from Rush’s 80s era. Follow-up track “Sobek – Cosmic Vibrations Devoured” features Kreator-bred riffing, while closing duo “A Sea of Sand, a Silver Star” and “Retraction into Kether” synthesize the ethereal atmospheres of Iotunn with the blackened assault of Naglfar. Through it all, Ossomancer sounds fabulous, as Banebjed’s Path flaunts an enviable DR 8 and a bodacious mix that spotlights its burly bass performance. Ossomancer’s sophomore outing is crammed with meloblack goodies, and though it’s not a long trek, the journey down Banebjed’s Path far transcends its distance.

Tyme’s Danish Dalliance

Ædel Fetich // Ædel Fetich [February 20th, 2026 – Deadbanger Productions]

That blinged-out pink dish-glove-clad hand is what first drew me to Denmark outfit Ædel Fetich’s self-titled debut. Then I clicked play and was taken on one of the more compelling “black” metal rides in recent memory. With roots primarily buried in the soil of the traditional second-wave, Ædel Fetich is rife with moments of rifferous tremolodic speed (“Ridderlig Lider,” “Madras”) and absolutely berserk guitar chaos (“Sort Magi”). There’s a Trhä-like sense of experimentation, and the rawness of the production enhances the oft-changing compositions, which, like weather in the Midwest, often shift on a dime without warning. Luckily, Ædel Fetich’s adept songwriting organically smooths these transitions, which could have easily come off stilted and jarring, but makes drawing direct comparisons to the Ædel Fetich sound difficult, as there’s a spectrum of other influences at play. There are tracks packed with punky punch (“Et Liv Fuld af Fejl,” “Ildtang”) or imbued with folky reverence (“Mit Billede af Dig”) and even some 80s pop—fans of the movie Flashdance shouldn’t have a problem finding the poppy easter egg hiding near the end of “Sort Magi.”6 Far and away the star of the show, however, is singer Skvat, whose performance is filled with as much black metal bravado as it is theatrical exuberance, his arsenal of shrieks, growls, hoots, howls, and operatic baritonations a refreshing treat, akin to if Mike Patton woke up one day deciding to record a Danish black metal album. Bottom line is, I really dig Ædel Fetich and think you will too.

Creeping Ivy’s Ashen Afterthought

Belzebong // The End is High [February 20th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

In my humble opinion, lyrics are key to making stoner metal more than novelty music. If you’re referencing reefer in your album art, band name, and song titles, at least keep the reeferisms out of the songs themselves,7 or better yet, avoid vocals altogether. Taking this latter advice to heart is instrumental Polish four-piece Belzebong, who have been at it for almost 20 years now. On The End is High, their fourth full-length, Belzebong deal 35 minutes of fuzzed-out riffery described as “a new sermon for the final days.” While not as highbrow (huh huh) as the instrumental stoner metal of Bongripper, Belzebong are similarly ominous on opener (yes) “Bong & Chain,” which caps its ten-minute burn with creepy, haunting synths. From there, the band settle into material more akin to Bongzilla; sound clips adorn the chill grooves of “420 Horsemen,” “Hempnotized,” and “Reefer Mortis,” which closes things out with some solid Electric Wizard worship. If you instinctively (and understandably) recoil from music with marijuana aesthetics but dig the meditative repetition offered by stoner metal, consider sampling The End is High. It’s not exactly the caricature it advertises itself as.

Baguette’s Bygone Bounty

Sundecay // The Blood Lives Again [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Toronto’s Sundecay has been around for a while. These Canadian doomers spawned sometime prior to 2014, quietly releasing EP material every once in a blue moon. The Blood Lives Again is their first full-length release—their first signs of life since 2018 in general—and the time and care they took to develop their sound and songwriting prowess pays off here in spades. The doom and proto-doom inspirations from Black Sabbath to Saint Vitus are obvious (“Here Comes the Wizard”), complemented by other influences from proto-metal, psychedelic, and progressive music (“Silence Spoken”). The hefty, layered guitars have a nice fuzz without fully landing in stoner territory. Ambitious long-form tracks like “Will Dusk Defy Dawn” flow like water while carrying significant emotional heft. Lastly, a moody, reverb-heavy vocal performance crowns the classic doom trance the band is aiming for. At five tracks and some 43 minutes, The Blood Lives Again is a total vibe and flies by before you’ve even noticed. Fans of the ’70s should take notes!

Temple Balls // Temple Balls [February 13th, 2026 – Frontiers Music]

One of the most authentic ways you can honor rock music tradition is via questionable naming conventions. On an unrelated note, Temple Balls is a Finnish hard rock/glam rock band, and they’re fun as hell! They’re not particularly new around the block, either: the group formed in 2009, and self-titled Temple Balls is already their fifth album since debut Traded Dreams in 2017. 2023’s Avalanche felt like a watershed moment, a welcome surprise that brought some new life and energy to a fairly dated genre of Europeisms and Hanoi Rocks rehashes. Temple Balls proves that Avalanche wasn’t a one-off, continuing their extremely authentic throwback approach. The heavy/power-metal-meets-AOR direction of songwriting (“Flashback Dynamite,” “Soul Survivor”) gives it that extra guitar oomph and energy that melodic music like this requires to be anywhere near competitive. With great all-out vocals from Arde Teronen and gigantic hooks to match, it’s just a damn good time front to back. Though it will sadly be the last time we’ll hear Niko Vuorela’s guitar work on record (R.I.P., and fuck cancer), the self-titled is certainly a worthy final milestone for him—and hopefully, another beginning for his comrades.

ClarkKent’s Enchanting Earworm

Hela // A Reign to Conquer [February 27, 2026 – Ardua Music]

Just as it put a pause on many plans and projects, the COVID pandemic slowed down the output of Spain’s Hela. A Reign to Conquer marks their first record since 2019’s Vegvìsir, which was their third release since 2013. This brief hiatus brought new blood in the form of vocalist Raquel Navarro, though, in truth, the only consistency in Hela’s lineup is the other three members—Tano Giménez on bass, Miguel Fernández (The Holeum) on drums, and Julián Velasco (The Holeum) on guitars. They have a deep bond, first forged in 2009 with The Sand Collector before forming Hela just three years later. Though they brand Hela as melodic doom, and the band does have a little in common with Katatonia, I think it’s more accurate to describe them as dreamy progressive rock. Navarro is a major reason for this, with dreamy croons that guide listeners through breezy soundscapes. She bears a passing resemblance to Maud the Moth, though the music Hela plays is decidedly more metal than our Dolphin friend’s favorite nocturnal insect. Guitarist Velasco plays a hypnotizing mix of atmospheric fuzz, crushing doom, and melodic riffs that add some heft and crunch to the ethereal sound. A Reign to Conquer has plenty of layers to probe, rewarding listeners who bear with it for repeat listens. While my initial spins left me wanting, I’ve since become spellbound. Add to that some gorgeous artwork, and this is a nice addition to anyone’s vinyl collection. Hela yeah!

Spicie Forrest’s Vicious Vittles

A Wilhelm Scream8 // Cheap Heat [February 27th, 2026 – Creator-Destructor Records]

A Wilhelm Scream9 returns after a four-year hiatus with their eighth long player, Cheap Heat. Sounding like the best combination of The Story So Far and Rise Against, A Wilhelm Scream delivers an impressive tour de force so late in their career. Vocalist Nuno Pereira10 is the highlight of Cheap Heat, driving the album with urgency and passion (“Somebody’s Gonna Die,” “Fell Off”), but no one here is a slouch. The rhythm section—bassist Brian J. Robinson, rhythm guitarist Trevor Reilly, and drummer Nicholas Pasquale Angelini—gleefully tosses gas on Pereira’s bonfire (“I Got Tunnel Vision”) and delivers solid grooves (“Poison II”) and searing ragers (“Unsolving the Mystery”) that keep the energy cranked to 11 all through Cheap Heat. Hooks are by far the most common lead duty, and Ben Murray puts on a fucking clinic. Each note that rings out from his axe sounds like it fucking owns the place (“Run,” “Visitor: Unimpressed”). Cheap Heat is a smidge front-loaded with “Midnight Ghost” and “I Got Tunnel Vision” being album highlights, but no song on here is anything short of a barn burner. At a super tight 28 minutes, Cheap Heat hits hard and fast and gets the fuck out of Dodge before you’re even sure what hit you. I didn’t expect a 26-year-old hardcore outfit to knock my teeth out when I queued it up on a whim one morning, but Cheap Heat is proving to be one of my favorite albums of the year.

Lead Injector // Witching Attack [February 20th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Who doesn’t like the combination of thrash’s unchained aggression and black metal’s cold hate? There’s never been a better pair. Lead Injector hit the ground running on debut LP Witching Attack. From the opening moments of “Siege Upon Heaven” to the closing moments of “Nuclear Antichrist,” Lead Injector is here to do two things: feed high-speed buckshot to God, skeletons, and anything else that gets in their way, and have a Hellripping good time. “Angel Destructor” and “Siege Upon Heaven” barrel pell-mell through searing riffs and blast beats, while groovier tracks like “Evil Executioner” and “Nuclear Antichrist” let black metal’s punk ancestry shine through. Heavy metal influences a la Judas Priest can be found injected into tracks like “Sacrifice This Bitch” and “M.C.C.I.” While nothing about Lead Injector’s sound is particularly new, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing. This debut is a unique and retro spin on a tried-and-true formula that bodes well for a young band. Witching Attack is a killer time that Ash Williams would gladly spin while boomsticking Deadites alongside Lord Arthur’s army.

German death-doom outfit Décembre Noir has received a fair amount of praise here over the years, with four of their five albums garnering ‘Great’ to ‘Good’ ratings from three of AMG’s finest—Madam X, Huck N’ Roll and, most recently, Ferox, whose review of 2023’s Your Sunset | My Sunrise cited a band that may be resting on laurels, perhaps having lost touch with its muse. Whether those issues led Sebastian Görlach, founding guitarist and one of two main songwriters, to depart the band in the Spring of 2024 is unclear. It is, however, germane since he has returned with a new death doom project, Avertat, and a debut album, Dead End Life. While Görlach admits it was hard to walk away from his “baby,” Avertat offers him the opportunity to reunite with “the same forces that have always defined his relationship with metal: emotional truth, atmospheric depth, and the ability to transform darkness into sound.” All that’s left to decide is whether Avertat, and more importantly, Dead End Life, has any future.

On Dead End Life, Avertat draws from the same well of desolate darkness that Décembre Noir has plumbed for years. Add a fair amount of My Dying Bride to the mix, and you can sense what Avertat is about. From skins to strings, Görlach impressively handles all of Dead End Life’s instrumental responsibilities, even contributing his own deathly growls—here, a satisfying mix of Mikael Akerfeldt and Lars Dotzauer.1 Tracks adhere to a tried-and-true formula, oscillating between speedier, chug-heavy melo-death (“Your Hate,” “The Sea”) and slower-paced, melancholic doom (“[7],” “Call to Death”). And while the addition of clean vocals is hardly groundbreaking, the crisp, prog-poppy tones of non-metal newcomer Enrico Langguth—eerily reminiscent of Tim Charles (Ne Obliviscaris)—are refreshing and bright, serving as a dynamic counterpoint to Görlach’s gruffness.2 Langguth’s emotively hopeful delivery both assuages and drives home the pain of Dead End Life’s deeply emotional stories, which are as heavy as Avertat’s music.

Avertat wastes no time getting down to its bleak, loss-is-life business. Album opener “Your Hate” sets the tone, its chunky, angry riffs, razor-sharp leads, and driving drum beats employed to tell the story of an abused child grown up to take care of his abusive parent as Görlach roars the lyric, “Whenever your hand rises, time blurs within me, I am the child that endures it,” before pleading, “When will you stop, when will you stop living?” This anguish cedes to another as the beautiful piano intro of “[7]” introduces us to the painful tale of Marianne Bachmeier.3 Doomy chords and lilting leads are the backdrop as Langguth croons a mother’s lament, “Seeking out for her smile, I always search for her hand, always held onto her so close”4 before death-heavy riffs and Görlach’s growls come crashing in, “Every shot looses the chains, gifts me freedom for the moment,” reflecting a mother’s vigilante-fueled grief and anger. Whether it’s the Line of Deathless Kings-like lilting leads and doomy riffs of “Call to Death” and “Last Request,”—the former a song about war as told through the eyes of war, replete with some Bolt Throwerish chugs—or the long-form doom-goodery of “My Blood,” recounting a father’s pride, Avertat packs a wallop.

Barely shy of 39 minutes, Avertat doesn’t loiter, and despite the brevity of this kind being rare in the genre, it definitely increases Dead End Life’s replay value. In fact, as the final strains of “Last Request” faded from my speakers, I found myself longing for another song, settling instead to start Dead End Life again. Görlach’s production—yes, he produced Dead End Life too—is warm and enveloping, leaving little for me to quibble with. I suppose, if pressed, I could say I connected least with the blast beats of “The Sea,” as they ran rampant under slower-paced guitars and vocals, but honestly, ’twas a small thing. I just wish there was MOAR!

Avertat delivers a heartfelt experience on Dead End Life, rife with emotional and musical heaviness—elevated by the back-and-forth vocal trade-offs of Görlach and Langguth. While I can’t pontificate on Décembre Noir’s future without Sebastian Görlach, I can absolutely say that Avertat’s future looks bright, despite a recipe that peddles in darkness. I will absolutely be here for whatever comes next, and so too should you.

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

German death-doom outfit Décembre Noir has received a fair amount of praise here over the years, with four of their five albums garnering ‘Great’ to ‘Good’ ratings from three of AMG’s finest—Madam X, Huck N’ Roll and, most recently, Ferox, whose review of 2023’s Your Sunset | My Sunrise cited a band that may be resting on laurels, perhaps having lost touch with its muse. Whether those issues led Sebastian Görlach, founding guitarist and one of two main songwriters, to depart the band in the Spring of 2024 is unclear. It is, however, germane since he has returned with a new death doom project, Avertat, and a debut album, Dead End Life. While Görlach admits it was hard to walk away from his “baby,” Avertat offers him the opportunity to reunite with “the same forces that have always defined his relationship with metal: emotional truth, atmospheric depth, and the ability to transform darkness into sound.” All that’s left to decide is whether Avertat, and more importantly, Dead End Life, has any future.

On Dead End Life, Avertat draws from the same well of desolate darkness that Décembre Noir has plumbed for years. Add a fair amount of My Dying Bride to the mix, and you can sense what Avertat is about. From skins to strings, Görlach impressively handles all of Dead End Life’s instrumental responsibilities, even contributing his own deathly growls—here, a satisfying mix of Mikael Akerfeldt and Lars Dotzauer.1 Tracks adhere to a tried-and-true formula, oscillating between speedier, chug-heavy melo-death (“Your Hate,” “The Sea”) and slower-paced, melancholic doom (“[7],” “Call to Death”). And while the addition of clean vocals is hardly groundbreaking, the crisp, prog-poppy tones of non-metal newcomer Enrico Langguth—eerily reminiscent of Tim Charles (Ne Obliviscaris)—are refreshing and bright, serving as a dynamic counterpoint to Görlach’s gruffness.2 Langguth’s emotively hopeful delivery both assuages and drives home the pain of Dead End Life’s deeply emotional stories, which are as heavy as Avertat’s music.

Avertat wastes no time getting down to its bleak, loss-is-life business. Album opener “Your Hate” sets the tone, its chunky, angry riffs, razor-sharp leads, and driving drum beats employed to tell the story of an abused child grown up to take care of his abusive parent as Görlach roars the lyric, “Whenever your hand rises, time blurs within me, I am the child that endures it,” before pleading, “When will you stop, when will you stop living?” This anguish cedes to another as the beautiful piano intro of “[7]” introduces us to the painful tale of Marianne Bachmeier.3 Doomy chords and lilting leads are the backdrop as Langguth croons a mother’s lament, “Seeking out for her smile, I always search for her hand, always held onto her so close”4 before death-heavy riffs and Görlach’s growls come crashing in, “Every shot looses the chains, gifts me freedom for the moment,” reflecting a mother’s vigilante-fueled grief and anger. Whether it’s the Line of Deathless Kings-like lilting leads and doomy riffs of “Call to Death” and “Last Request,”—the former a song about war as told through the eyes of war, replete with some Bolt Throwerish chugs—or the long-form doom-goodery of “My Blood,” recounting a father’s pride, Avertat packs a wallop.

Barely shy of 39 minutes, Avertat doesn’t loiter, and despite the brevity of this kind being rare in the genre, it definitely increases Dead End Life’s replay value. In fact, as the final strains of “Last Request” faded from my speakers, I found myself longing for another song, settling instead to start Dead End Life again. Görlach’s production—yes, he produced Dead End Life too—is warm and enveloping, leaving little for me to quibble with. I suppose, if pressed, I could say I connected least with the blast beats of “The Sea,” as they ran rampant under slower-paced guitars and vocals, but honestly, ’twas a small thing. I just wish there was MOAR!

Avertat delivers a heartfelt experience on Dead End Life, rife with emotional and musical heaviness—elevated by the back-and-forth vocal trade-offs of Görlach and Langguth. While I can’t pontificate on Décembre Noir’s future without Sebastian Görlach, I can absolutely say that Avertat’s future looks bright, despite a recipe that peddles in darkness. I will absolutely be here for whatever comes next, and so too should you.

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

Look at that cover. It looks like the sort of neon-drenched fever dream burst straight from the mind of an unmedicated, hyperactive toddler whose special interests are cyborg dinosaurs and laser-wielding ninjas that promises the sort of maximalist, power cheese pungent enough to stink up any room. Luckily for us, German fromagers Victorius have been honing their brand of hook-forward, Saturday-morning-cartoon power metal for years. Their 7th album, World War Dinosaur, is a continuation of the band’s deeply unserious “space ninjas vs. holy dinosaurs” storyline showcased on records like Dinosaur Warfare – Legend of the Power Saurus, Space Ninjas From Hell,and Dinosaur Warfare Pt. 2 – The Great Ninja War. I’m all for ridiculous imagery and album concepts, as long as they don’t overshadow the compositions themselves. Can Victorius manage to avoid being crushed under the weight of their own cheese?

On World War Dinosaur, Victorius demonstrates a seasoned knack for crafting straightforward, yet satisfying, dinosaur-themed power metal bangers. The band’s execution of their over-the-top subject matter is less garish than one might expect, eschewing lengthy spoken-word sections or lore-heavy character backstories in favor of poppy power metal with dinosaur-specific hooks. Tracks are fast-paced and built around the tried-and-true power formula of hyper-melodic guitar/synth hooks over galloping drums, with huge, festival-ready singalong choruses, and Victorius are masters at transitioning seamlessly between the expected sections. It’s easy to get lost in the Galneryus-esque haze of dino rippers on songs like “Raptor Squad Attack,” “Brachio Bazooka Battalion,” and “Dino Power Resistance,” which fully lean into their concept. There’s a simple joyousness to be had in listening to well-executed, catchy power metal, and it’s only made more fun by the blatantly absurd subject matter.

Luckily, Victorius aren’t just coasting on a dumb (read: brilliant) gimmick; they actually play like a band that’s been around the block. Vocalist David Bassin, who’s sounded a bit weightless in the past, finally shows up swinging. Here, he sounds confident and inspired, helped by stacked vocal harmonies and gang shouts, which appropriately heighten big moments. Bassin’s soaring tenor absolutely shines while belting out ludicrous lines on ridiculous choruses (“World War Dinosaur,” “Dino Race From Outer Space), leading the charge and treating the “dino vs. ninja” subject matter as if his life depended on it. Beyond the choruses, it’s the truly infectious non-vocal melodic lines that stand out on repeated listens. Guitarists Dirk Scharsich and Flo serve up sharp, memorable leads that weave throughout the songs, with the opening fanfare of “Kingdom of the Strong” and “Lost Legacy” serving as highlights. Throw in the usual bombastic orchestration and gloriously tacky synth work, and suddenly these compositions coalesce into something that’s still sugary and familiar, but hit just a bit harder than your typical middling power metal.

I only wish World War Dinosaur saw Victorius take more musical and conceptual risks. Every song is in the 3-4 minute range, and nearly all of them follow the tried and true power metal formula. There are some mid-tempo cuts like “Evil Mean Megalodon” about a cybernetic shark/submarine of all things, but most tracks feel incredibly similar. This extends to the concept as well, which seems to exist primarily as dinosaur-covered wrapping paper over some standard power metal lyrics about war and battles. There seems to be very little about the actual dinosaur-ninja war as promised, with no narrative progression present, just several songs about dinosaur war units (“Raptor Squad Attack,” “Brachio Bazooka Battalion,” “Prehistoric Panzer Power”), one song about laser ninjas (“Lazer Ninja Thunderstorm”) and a vague conclusion about “fighting forever” (“Lost Legacy”). None of this really detracts from the fun, chorus-focused power metal on display, but it does feel like a minor missed opportunity to elevate the record beyond the sum of its parts.

Nonetheless, World War Dinosaur is a well-crafted, entertaining and incredibly campy slab of power metal. Victorius aren’t charting particularly novel territory, but they’re clearly familiar with the elements that make this style so enjoyable and the over-the-top concept helps to make the whole package more exciting. For those in search of some accessible power cheese to brighten their day, look no further.



Rating: Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Perception Records
Websites: victoriusmetal.net | facebook.com/victoriusmetal
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

Look at that cover. It looks like the sort of neon-drenched fever dream burst straight from the mind of an unmedicated, hyperactive toddler whose special interests are cyborg dinosaurs and laser-wielding ninjas that promises the sort of maximalist, power cheese pungent enough to stink up any room. Luckily for us, German fromagers Victorius have been honing their brand of hook-forward, Saturday-morning-cartoon power metal for years. Their 7th album, World War Dinosaur, is a continuation of the band’s deeply unserious “space ninjas vs. holy dinosaurs” storyline showcased on records like Dinosaur Warfare – Legend of the Power Saurus, Space Ninjas From Hell,and Dinosaur Warfare Pt. 2 – The Great Ninja War. I’m all for ridiculous imagery and album concepts, as long as they don’t overshadow the compositions themselves. Can Victorius manage to avoid being crushed under the weight of their own cheese?

On World War Dinosaur, Victorius demonstrates a seasoned knack for crafting straightforward, yet satisfying, dinosaur-themed power metal bangers. The band’s execution of their over-the-top subject matter is less garish than one might expect, eschewing lengthy spoken-word sections or lore-heavy character backstories in favor of poppy power metal with dinosaur-specific hooks. Tracks are fast-paced and built around the tried-and-true power formula of hyper-melodic guitar/synth hooks over galloping drums, with huge, festival-ready singalong choruses, and Victorius are masters at transitioning seamlessly between the expected sections. It’s easy to get lost in the Galneryus-esque haze of dino rippers on songs like “Raptor Squad Attack,” “Brachio Bazooka Battalion,” and “Dino Power Resistance,” which fully lean into their concept. There’s a simple joyousness to be had in listening to well-executed, catchy power metal, and it’s only made more fun by the blatantly absurd subject matter.

Luckily, Victorius aren’t just coasting on a dumb (read: brilliant) gimmick; they actually play like a band that’s been around the block. Vocalist David Bassin, who’s sounded a bit weightless in the past, finally shows up swinging. Here, he sounds confident and inspired, helped by stacked vocal harmonies and gang shouts, which appropriately heighten big moments. Bassin’s soaring tenor absolutely shines while belting out ludicrous lines on ridiculous choruses (“World War Dinosaur,” “Dino Race From Outer Space), leading the charge and treating the “dino vs. ninja” subject matter as if his life depended on it. Beyond the choruses, it’s the truly infectious non-vocal melodic lines that stand out on repeated listens. Guitarists Dirk Scharsich and Flo serve up sharp, memorable leads that weave throughout the songs, with the opening fanfare of “Kingdom of the Strong” and “Lost Legacy” serving as highlights. Throw in the usual bombastic orchestration and gloriously tacky synth work, and suddenly these compositions coalesce into something that’s still sugary and familiar, but hit just a bit harder than your typical middling power metal.

I only wish World War Dinosaur saw Victorius take more musical and conceptual risks. Every song is in the 3-4 minute range, and nearly all of them follow the tried and true power metal formula. There are some mid-tempo cuts like “Evil Mean Megalodon” about a cybernetic shark/submarine of all things, but most tracks feel incredibly similar. This extends to the concept as well, which seems to exist primarily as dinosaur-covered wrapping paper over some standard power metal lyrics about war and battles. There seems to be very little about the actual dinosaur-ninja war as promised, with no narrative progression present, just several songs about dinosaur war units (“Raptor Squad Attack,” “Brachio Bazooka Battalion,” “Prehistoric Panzer Power”), one song about laser ninjas (“Lazer Ninja Thunderstorm”) and a vague conclusion about “fighting forever” (“Lost Legacy”). None of this really detracts from the fun, chorus-focused power metal on display, but it does feel like a minor missed opportunity to elevate the record beyond the sum of its parts.

Nonetheless, World War Dinosaur is a well-crafted, entertaining and incredibly campy slab of power metal. Victorius aren’t charting particularly novel territory, but they’re clearly familiar with the elements that make this style so enjoyable and the over-the-top concept helps to make the whole package more exciting. For those in search of some accessible power cheese to brighten their day, look no further.



Rating: Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Perception Records
Websites: victoriusmetal.net | facebook.com/victoriusmetal
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

⚠️ NEW INTERVIEW ⚠️

Pure. Relentless. Sludge. 🌫️

We caught up with the German masters of post-metal, Cranial, to dissect their massive soundscapes and crushing atmosphere. If you like your riffs heavy and your transitions haunting, this is for you.

Explore the depths of their creative process below.

🔗 https://roughtimes.net/interviews/cranial-where-sludge-meets-sonic-chaos-germany-sludge-post-metal-interview-with-julian-bastian

#Cranial #PostMetal #SludgeMetal #GermanMetal #AtmosphericSludge #DoomMetal #HeavyRiffs #CranialBand #Sludge #PostMetalBand #MetalInterview #SlowAndHeavy

⚠️ NEW INTERVIEW ⚠️

Pure. Relentless. Sludge. 🌫️

We caught up with the German masters of post-metal, Cranial, to dissect their massive soundscapes and crushing atmosphere. If you like your riffs heavy and your transitions haunting, this is for you.

Explore the depths of their creative process below.

🔗 https://roughtimes.net/interviews/cranial-where-sludge-meets-sonic-chaos-germany-sludge-post-metal-interview-with-julian-bastian

#Cranial #PostMetal #SludgeMetal #GermanMetal #AtmosphericSludge #DoomMetal #HeavyRiffs #CranialBand #Sludge #PostMetalBand #MetalInterview #SlowAndHeavy

With 33 songs and over two hours of music, Lord of the Lost has written an ambitious trilogy, mercifully spread across eight months rather than released all at once. On Opvs Noir, the band leans into the darker, more gothic aspects of their pop-infused metal, bringing plenty of guest collaborators aboard to keep things spicy. The first two volumes of this opvs have proven a success, with creative instrumentation and an affecting performance from frontman Chris Harms. The question is whether Lord of the Lost can keep up the momentum across another 11 tracks on Vol. 3. The finale of an ambitious project such as this can often feel bittersweet, as it marks the end of something you have (hopefully) come to love, or, like the finales to the Mission Impossible series or Daniel Craig’s James Bond run, it can just be plain disappointing.

Unlike the more energetic, sometimes ostentatious arrangements of the prior two records, Vol. 3 proves to be a much mellower affair. The gothic symphonic elements often pair with softer pop/rock tunes, many of which aim at mood over hooks. Opener “Kill the Lights” starts off with a poppy beat, some cellos, and a growling Chris Harms, and though the chorus might not stick, it’s an overall good song. The moodier pieces don’t always work, however. “The Shadows Within,” which alternates between slower pop and higher energy techno-pop, is largely forgettable. The minimalist finale, “The Days of Our Lives,” serves as a disappointing send-off for the trilogy, though Harms, as usual, makes it worthwhile with his melodic cadence. Though overall less exciting, Vol. 3 does offer plenty of catchy ballads and duets, including “La Vie Est Hell,” performed with departing Kissin’ Dynamite frontman, Hannes Braun.1 It doesn’t do anything fancy, yet I find it often playing in my head on repeat.2

Opvs Noir Vol. 3 does milk some variety out of a couple of pop-related themes coursing through it: empowerment and doomed love. The two most upbeat tunes, “I’m a Diamond” and “I Hate People,” play out as Rammstein techno-industrial pop anthems for people who don’t quite fit in with mainstream society. While “I’m a Diamond” is the catchiest song on offer, the lyrics are a touch contrived.3 “I Hate People” turns the misanthropic-sounding title on its head by directing its ire towards those who seek to force their limited ideology on others.4 Lyrically, the synth-heavy, hip-hop adjacent “My Funeral” is my favorite, containing tongue-in-cheek lyrics where Harms proclaims that “Black is my happy colour” and “I’m gonna, gonna wear / Pink to my funeral.” Rounding out the pop themes are a few love songs, from the Duran Duran-inspired synth pop track, “Square One,” complete with ’80s toms, to a touching duet with Ambre Vourvahis (Xandria). These touches do help keep a rather mild record from growing stale.

While the songs here are well-written, produced, and performed, there’s no denying that it feels as if Lord of the Lost ran out of gas by Vol. 3. The hooks just don’t come as easily, and the lower energy levels feel like a letdown compared to the highs of the first two volumes. One issue is the blandness of the guitars. While creative riffing has not been one of Lord of the Lost’s fortes, they made up for it in the past with more creative arrangements. The generic riffs that fire up on choruses from “The Shadows Within” to “Your Love is Colder Than Death” feel like halfhearted attempts to inject some life into tepid tunes. Much more effective is the penultimate song, “Take Me Far Away,” which ends with an exciting burst of drums and riffs that brings the record to life, albeit briefly.5

This finale ends up bittersweet, feeling more like a whimper than a bang. Yet for fans of Chris Harms and co., it’s not a total loss. Chris Harms is able to elevate even the blandest of tunes; there’s not a single bad song, though many are only mildly enjoyable. Unlike a lot of the dreck that some of the more popular metal bands release, however, Lord of the Lost puts a lot of thought and care into their music, and the Opvs Noir trilogy has plenty to offer those who like their metal less extreme, yet still carrying an edge.



Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

With 33 songs and over two hours of music, Lord of the Lost has written an ambitious trilogy, mercifully spread across eight months rather than released all at once. On Opvs Noir, the band leans into the darker, more gothic aspects of their pop-infused metal, bringing plenty of guest collaborators aboard to keep things spicy. The first two volumes of this opvs have proven a success, with creative instrumentation and an affecting performance from frontman Chris Harms. The question is whether Lord of the Lost can keep up the momentum across another 11 tracks on Vol. 3. The finale of an ambitious project such as this can often feel bittersweet, as it marks the end of something you have (hopefully) come to love, or, like the finales to the Mission Impossible series or Daniel Craig’s James Bond run, it can just be plain disappointing.

Unlike the more energetic, sometimes ostentatious arrangements of the prior two records, Vol. 3 proves to be a much mellower affair. The gothic symphonic elements often pair with softer pop/rock tunes, many of which aim at mood over hooks. Opener “Kill the Lights” starts off with a poppy beat, some cellos, and a growling Chris Harms, and though the chorus might not stick, it’s an overall good song. The moodier pieces don’t always work, however. “The Shadows Within,” which alternates between slower pop and higher energy techno-pop, is largely forgettable. The minimalist finale, “The Days of Our Lives,” serves as a disappointing send-off for the trilogy, though Harms, as usual, makes it worthwhile with his melodic cadence. Though overall less exciting, Vol. 3 does offer plenty of catchy ballads and duets, including “La Vie Est Hell,” performed with departing Kissin’ Dynamite frontman, Hannes Braun.1 It doesn’t do anything fancy, yet I find it often playing in my head on repeat.2

Opvs Noir Vol. 3 does milk some variety out of a couple of pop-related themes coursing through it: empowerment and doomed love. The two most upbeat tunes, “I’m a Diamond” and “I Hate People,” play out as Rammstein techno-industrial pop anthems for people who don’t quite fit in with mainstream society. While “I’m a Diamond” is the catchiest song on offer, the lyrics are a touch contrived.3 “I Hate People” turns the misanthropic-sounding title on its head by directing its ire towards those who seek to force their limited ideology on others.4 Lyrically, the synth-heavy, hip-hop adjacent “My Funeral” is my favorite, containing tongue-in-cheek lyrics where Harms proclaims that “Black is my happy colour” and “I’m gonna, gonna wear / Pink to my funeral.” Rounding out the pop themes are a few love songs, from the Duran Duran-inspired synth pop track, “Square One,” complete with ’80s toms, to a touching duet with Ambre Vourvahis (Xandria). These touches do help keep a rather mild record from growing stale.

While the songs here are well-written, produced, and performed, there’s no denying that it feels as if Lord of the Lost ran out of gas by Vol. 3. The hooks just don’t come as easily, and the lower energy levels feel like a letdown compared to the highs of the first two volumes. One issue is the blandness of the guitars. While creative riffing has not been one of Lord of the Lost’s fortes, they made up for it in the past with more creative arrangements. The generic riffs that fire up on choruses from “The Shadows Within” to “Your Love is Colder Than Death” feel like halfhearted attempts to inject some life into tepid tunes. Much more effective is the penultimate song, “Take Me Far Away,” which ends with an exciting burst of drums and riffs that brings the record to life, albeit briefly.5

This finale ends up bittersweet, feeling more like a whimper than a bang. Yet for fans of Chris Harms and co., it’s not a total loss. Chris Harms is able to elevate even the blandest of tunes; there’s not a single bad song, though many are only mildly enjoyable. Unlike a lot of the dreck that some of the more popular metal bands release, however, Lord of the Lost puts a lot of thought and care into their music, and the Opvs Noir trilogy has plenty to offer those who like their metal less extreme, yet still carrying an edge.



Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

As much as metal is a niche interest (at least in my part of the world), it is a vast ecosystem. Following it is a joy, but it’s always a bit humbling to come across a group you’ve never heard of with a long history. Mirror of Deception have been around since 1993. Transience is their sixth full-length release, and even this blog has not heard their name up until this point. That can be a bit daunting as a reviewer, lacking context and missing a big element of what makes a band their band. On the other hand, I get an opportunity to listen to some classic-style doom metal and just kind of say what I think and see how this review ends up from there. So that’s the plan! Let’s listen to some doom metal.

Transience treads an interesting line between doom and more traditional metal. Conceptually, it’s a fairly bleak listen, with intense riffs driving urgency, despair, and anger. Michael Siffermann and Jochen Fopp are strong guitarists, whether channeling dramatic endings, as in the bleak “Haven,” or broader, slower peaks in “The Sands.” On the other hand, their music is lively; Uwe Kurz’s drumming is dynamic and animated, Pascal Schrade’s bass comparatively bright across Transience’s gritty, aggrieved sound. The aforementioned “The Sands” is a good example; for four minutes, Mirror of Deception play a dramatic, slow-build, mid-tempo song that then transforms with a lively, almost bright riff that jumps up that tempo and really gets the head nodding. It all fits, and it all works—an often-woeful, sometimes brighter skip across doom themes with a lively backdrop that comes from confidence and experience.

Transience by Mirror of Deception

What fit less well, I’m sad to say, are the vocal melodies. I’m not sure who, between Schrade and Siffermann, is the lead vocalist, but his singing is over-produced and at odds with the music behind him. Opener “Death, Deliver Us,” for example, is a dark, heavy, distorted soundscape of anguish, but the singing consistently fails to match that atmosphere. I was surprised to read the lyrics to the song, in fact, and discover the singer is seemingly meant to be a sea captain fighting a losing battle against stormy seas. I got none of that from the way those words are sung, and while I wouldn’t argue that the singing is bad by any stretch, I would say the performance lacks the gravitas that the rest of the band and production are aiming for, and the effects layered on that performance further remove it from where I’d want it to be. On slower, calmer songs, this is much less of an issue. “Slow Winds,” for example, effectively captures a feeling of uneasiness that benefits from a straightforward vocal performance.

Transience is only forty-three minutes long, but I feel there isn’t enough variety from song to song for it to avoid feeling a touch overlong. This may be another offshoot of the vocal performance—all of the hooks I can recall offhand are riffs—or it may just be that Mirror of Deception play a fairly straightforward brand of doom metal, one that enjoys a bleak, if upbeat, atmosphere and doesn’t focus so much on catchiness1 in any form. The result is an album that is generally enjoyable in the moment, but doesn’t make a big enough impact for genuine memorability.

On Transience, Mirror of Deception do a lot of good things and play a lot of good music. But I can’t help feeling it doesn’t quite come together as an album. I can see myself returning to individual songs more than Transience itself, and that’s a shame. I can hear the experience of the players, feel the maturity of the group, but the music just isn’t resonating like I know it should. The result, for me at least, is a mixed experience and a new band worth keeping an eye on.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self release
Websites: mirrorofdeception-doom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/pages/mirror-of-deception
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

As much as metal is a niche interest (at least in my part of the world), it is a vast ecosystem. Following it is a joy, but it’s always a bit humbling to come across a group you’ve never heard of with a long history. Mirror of Deception have been around since 1993. Transience is their sixth full-length release, and even this blog has not heard their name up until this point. That can be a bit daunting as a reviewer, lacking context and missing a big element of what makes a band their band. On the other hand, I get an opportunity to listen to some classic-style doom metal and just kind of say what I think and see how this review ends up from there. So that’s the plan! Let’s listen to some doom metal.

Transience treads an interesting line between doom and more traditional metal. Conceptually, it’s a fairly bleak listen, with intense riffs driving urgency, despair, and anger. Michael Siffermann and Jochen Fopp are strong guitarists, whether channeling dramatic endings, as in the bleak “Haven,” or broader, slower peaks in “The Sands.” On the other hand, their music is lively; Uwe Kurz’s drumming is dynamic and animated, Pascal Schrade’s bass comparatively bright across Transience’s gritty, aggrieved sound. The aforementioned “The Sands” is a good example; for four minutes, Mirror of Deception play a dramatic, slow-build, mid-tempo song that then transforms with a lively, almost bright riff that jumps up that tempo and really gets the head nodding. It all fits, and it all works—an often-woeful, sometimes brighter skip across doom themes with a lively backdrop that comes from confidence and experience.

Transience by Mirror of Deception

What fit less well, I’m sad to say, are the vocal melodies. I’m not sure who, between Schrade and Siffermann, is the lead vocalist, but his singing is over-produced and at odds with the music behind him. Opener “Death, Deliver Us,” for example, is a dark, heavy, distorted soundscape of anguish, but the singing consistently fails to match that atmosphere. I was surprised to read the lyrics to the song, in fact, and discover the singer is seemingly meant to be a sea captain fighting a losing battle against stormy seas. I got none of that from the way those words are sung, and while I wouldn’t argue that the singing is bad by any stretch, I would say the performance lacks the gravitas that the rest of the band and production are aiming for, and the effects layered on that performance further remove it from where I’d want it to be. On slower, calmer songs, this is much less of an issue. “Slow Winds,” for example, effectively captures a feeling of uneasiness that benefits from a straightforward vocal performance.

Transience is only forty-three minutes long, but I feel there isn’t enough variety from song to song for it to avoid feeling a touch overlong. This may be another offshoot of the vocal performance—all of the hooks I can recall offhand are riffs—or it may just be that Mirror of Deception play a fairly straightforward brand of doom metal, one that enjoys a bleak, if upbeat, atmosphere and doesn’t focus so much on catchiness1 in any form. The result is an album that is generally enjoyable in the moment, but doesn’t make a big enough impact for genuine memorability.

On Transience, Mirror of Deception do a lot of good things and play a lot of good music. But I can’t help feeling it doesn’t quite come together as an album. I can see myself returning to individual songs more than Transience itself, and that’s a shame. I can hear the experience of the players, feel the maturity of the group, but the music just isn’t resonating like I know it should. The result, for me at least, is a mixed experience and a new band worth keeping an eye on.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self release
Websites: mirrorofdeception-doom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/pages/mirror-of-deception
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

To receive the honor of reviewing duties for Noise’s latest as a superfan of his output is an exciting prospect. I tend to agree with Carcharodon when it comes to their critical consensus, and Kanonenfieber is one of my favorite acts around. So, when I was (presumptively) lucky enough to review the latest Non Est Deus record, Blessings and Curses, I was excited to say the least. We have lavished praise here at AMG across the Noise spectrum, and while his projects range in quality, that quality remains firmly in the top tier of melodic black metal. So, with all that out of the way, is the latest noise from Noise a blessing of black metal righteousness or a curse on the venerable artist’s output?

Out of the gate, Blessing and Curses works to establish a more unique sound for Non Est Deus in comparison to Noise’s other projects. Whereas Legacy could lean a little too close to Kanonenfieber or Leiþa at times, this latest record makes a clear differentiation between the new Non Est Deus and the old. Noise’s vocals are clear and crisp, sung completely in English, and never hit the heaviness of Kanonenfieber or the tortured emotion of Leiþa. In fact, the first band that came to mind when spinning Blessings and Curses was Rotting Christ. At first glance, this feels like a clear step in a better direction for a project that needed a more unique identity, but upon further inspection, it hampers the album at nearly every turn.

Blessings and Curses by Non Est Deus

Blessings and Curses has a strong artistic foundation and conceptual structure, with three interludes (Prayer I, II, and III, respectively) and psalms scourging every major track. The album feels unique in the way that it follows a believer in God who loses their way and becomes disillusioned, directly mirroring the diptych on the album cover, as well as the title of the record. Phenomenal album cover aside, the musical progression isn’t as pronounced as I had hoped based on the concept, and Blessings and Curses is repetitive throughout. Nearly every track follows a similar structure, including choruses that repeat the same cadence and emotional beats on a majority of the songs. Noise returns to refrains that have a main line (usually the song title) followed by a “whispered” section that either repeats that same idea or only a slight variation on it (“Show Mercy”, “My Lord”, “The Forsaken”, “The Indulgence”). It leaves Blessings and Curses sounding like someone trying to replicate Noise as opposed to Noise himself.

To Blessings and Curses’ detriment, spoken word sections are back, and the album remains worse for it. The opening “Prayer I” feels entirely throwaway, and the interludes are so quick as to make them feel like an afterthought. The psalms on each track also kill momentum, with their placement typically towards the finale of the song. Derailing every track, the psalms are the vegetables before getting to the meat of it all. While they serve the album conceptually, they are half-baked throughout. The idea of splitting the album is an interesting one, and the best tracks are in the back half, but Blessings and Curses is sonically stagnant. “Show Mercy” and “Forgive Me” (an album highlight) play with some very light black n’ roll elements, making me wish the first half had gone all in on that idea, leaving the second half to be a blasting blackened death beast. Unfortunately, neither is that diverse, sitting in this mid space that just sounds a bit like Noise on autopilot. None of the songs are bad, some are even great, but the album as a whole feels like it wastes a phenomenal concept.

If you told me I would be reviewing Noise for AMG in 2026, I would call you a fuckin’ liar and that you shouldn’t play with my emotions. If you told me that I would be the one to give Noise a proper tongue lashing, I would be doubly upset. As a stalwart fan of the artist, I still enjoyed Blessings and Curses on a lizard-brain level, and there are some truly great tracks (Forgive Me, Kora, Transgression). I appreciate Non Est Deus doing more to differentiate itself from the rest of Noise’s work, but I would love to see it pushed even further and move out of its melodic black metal safe zone. As it stands, a mediocre Noise record is still better than most other offerings out there, but for an artist with such incredible albums under his belt, I prayed for more.

Rating: Mixed
DR: N/A| Format Reviewed: A dreamy streamy
Label: Noisebringer Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

To receive the honor of reviewing duties for Noise’s latest as a superfan of his output is an exciting prospect. I tend to agree with Carcharodon when it comes to their critical consensus, and Kanonenfieber is one of my favorite acts around. So, when I was (presumptively) lucky enough to review the latest Non Est Deus record, Blessings and Curses, I was excited to say the least. We have lavished praise here at AMG across the Noise spectrum, and while his projects range in quality, that quality remains firmly in the top tier of melodic black metal. So, with all that out of the way, is the latest noise from Noise a blessing of black metal righteousness or a curse on the venerable artist’s output?

Out of the gate, Blessing and Curses works to establish a more unique sound for Non Est Deus in comparison to Noise’s other projects. Whereas Legacy could lean a little too close to Kanonenfieber or Leiþa at times, this latest record makes a clear differentiation between the new Non Est Deus and the old. Noise’s vocals are clear and crisp, sung completely in English, and never hit the heaviness of Kanonenfieber or the tortured emotion of Leiþa. In fact, the first band that came to mind when spinning Blessings and Curses was Rotting Christ. At first glance, this feels like a clear step in a better direction for a project that needed a more unique identity, but upon further inspection, it hampers the album at nearly every turn.

Blessings and Curses by Non Est Deus

Blessings and Curses has a strong artistic foundation and conceptual structure, with three interludes (Prayer I, II, and III, respectively) and psalms scourging every major track. The album feels unique in the way that it follows a believer in God who loses their way and becomes disillusioned, directly mirroring the diptych on the album cover, as well as the title of the record. Phenomenal album cover aside, the musical progression isn’t as pronounced as I had hoped based on the concept, and Blessings and Curses is repetitive throughout. Nearly every track follows a similar structure, including choruses that repeat the same cadence and emotional beats on a majority of the songs. Noise returns to refrains that have a main line (usually the song title) followed by a “whispered” section that either repeats that same idea or only a slight variation on it (“Show Mercy”, “My Lord”, “The Forsaken”, “The Indulgence”). It leaves Blessings and Curses sounding like someone trying to replicate Noise as opposed to Noise himself.

To Blessings and Curses’ detriment, spoken word sections are back, and the album remains worse for it. The opening “Prayer I” feels entirely throwaway, and the interludes are so quick as to make them feel like an afterthought. The psalms on each track also kill momentum, with their placement typically towards the finale of the song. Derailing every track, the psalms are the vegetables before getting to the meat of it all. While they serve the album conceptually, they are half-baked throughout. The idea of splitting the album is an interesting one, and the best tracks are in the back half, but Blessings and Curses is sonically stagnant. “Show Mercy” and “Forgive Me” (an album highlight) play with some very light black n’ roll elements, making me wish the first half had gone all in on that idea, leaving the second half to be a blasting blackened death beast. Unfortunately, neither is that diverse, sitting in this mid space that just sounds a bit like Noise on autopilot. None of the songs are bad, some are even great, but the album as a whole feels like it wastes a phenomenal concept.

If you told me I would be reviewing Noise for AMG in 2026, I would call you a fuckin’ liar and that you shouldn’t play with my emotions. If you told me that I would be the one to give Noise a proper tongue lashing, I would be doubly upset. As a stalwart fan of the artist, I still enjoyed Blessings and Curses on a lizard-brain level, and there are some truly great tracks (Forgive Me, Kora, Transgression). I appreciate Non Est Deus doing more to differentiate itself from the rest of Noise’s work, but I would love to see it pushed even further and move out of its melodic black metal safe zone. As it stands, a mediocre Noise record is still better than most other offerings out there, but for an artist with such incredible albums under his belt, I prayed for more.

Rating: Mixed
DR: N/A| Format Reviewed: A dreamy streamy
Label: Noisebringer Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

Read it in the stars: an Astral Spectre is upon us. German multi-instrumentalist Tenebros has spent the past six years mixing up a potent blend of black and heavy metal across three long players that take the NWoBHM energy, blackened aggression, and the occultic flair of 70s hard/prog rock.1 Astral Spectre’s third revelation, 2026s Cosmic Mirage, is poised to be the project’s most ambitious record, taking their established sound and putting it through “more sophisticated arrangements” and utilizing “professional mixing for the first time.” It all looks good to me, but are Astral Spectre the real deal, or is Cosmic Mirage just that?

Astral Spectre’s sound is indebted to the proto-metal and progressive rock of the 1970s, but Cosmic Mirage is no mere exercise in nostalgia. Take Nite and give them Blue Öyster Cult’s guitar tone, longer songs, a meaner blackened rasp, a Hammond organ, and (sometimes) a clarinet, and you’d get Cosmic Mirage. Black metal manifests in Tenebros’ aforementioned rasping, foreboding tones and odd blast beats (“Chronomancer,” “Dancing with Ghosts”), but Astral Spectre’s bread and butter is warm, lively rock n’ roll. NWoBHM twin guitars soar over most tracks, dominating “Stardrifter” and “The Witch’s Waltz” while keys fill out the middle ranges where a rhythm guitar typically would. The organ towers over Cosmic Mirage, adding weight and texture to Astral Spectre’s sound while lending Cosmic Mirage a deeper gothic edge (“The Witch’s Waltz”). Astral Spectre also use clarinet on certain tracks, imbuing snaky, sultry leads to “Death of Osiris” while trading solos with the guitar on “The Demon’s Offer.” Overall, though Cosmic Mirage evokes a specific scene and era of music’s past, Astral Spectre stand on their own through creative utilization of its various pieces.

Cosmic Mirage by Astral Spectre

Cosmic Mirage is at its best when Astral Spectre simply floor it. The opening duo of “Stardrifter” and “Chonomancer” bubble over with energetic hooks, roaring with Iron Maiden gallops and punchy, off-kilter keys that don’t let up and make for one of the best one-two punches I’ve heard this year. Tenebros’ drumming deserves recognition, as he can lend songs like “Cosmic Mirage” and “Stardrifter” ridiculously propulsive energy while laying down serious groove over the Opeth-meets-Maiden “Death of Osiris.” The drumming is brisk, but so slick that it feels laid back, working nicely with Tenebros’ thrumming yet reserved bass playing. But where Cosmic Mirage shines brightest is in its solos, where fast, classically-influenced and highly melodic playing evoke the likes of Adrian Smith (“Stardrifter”), Ritchie Blackmore (“Dancing with Ghosts”) and Eddie Van Halen (“Death of Osiris”). When it all comes together, Astral Spectre sounds like a souped-up Kansas or Blue Öyster Cult crushing it with Tribulation. And that’s just beautiful.

The only knock against Cosmic Mirage is when Astral Spectre’s progressive tendencies come at the expense of hookiness. Astral Spectre flexes their songcraft on longer cuts “Death of Osiris” and “Cosmic Mirage,” and though both songs have good moments, they are bogged down by slow passages that aren’t as vital as the faster, more rockin’ tunes. “Death of Osiris” in particular languishes in repetition for its first half, riffing on a thoroughly cliché “Egyptian” melody before sliding into an Iron Maidenesque bass-plucked build-up to the clarinet solo, where things finally take off.2 “Cosmic Mirage” starts strong with a driving beat and strong hooks before dropping into a spacey, Pink Floyd-like passage that just doesn’t demand your attention as much, and by the time Astral Spectre get their momentum back, the song is basically over. Also, Cosmic Mirage’s clarinet, while it weaves compelling melodies and lends the album a uniquely mellow mood, is always way upfront in the mix and tends to drown out the guitar. This and an understated bass presence are the only gripes I have with the otherwise warm and open mix of Cosmic Mirage, just as Astral Spectre’s few hiccups regarding their longer songs are the only real problems I have with the album at large.

Cosmic Mirage has more going on than it seems at first glance. Besides some missteps in the longer songs, Astral Spectre crafted an ambitious, engrossing, and deviously fun album that anyone with a love for twin guitars should get behind. Tenebros is a phenomenal musician and the fact that Astral Spectre aren’t signed baffles me. As rich as it is immediate, Cosmic Mirage has grown on me with every listen, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it continues to grow well into the year. Chase the mirage!

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 10 | V0 VBR mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: astral-spectre.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/OfficialAstralSpectre
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Read it in the stars: an Astral Spectre is upon us. German multi-instrumentalist Tenebros has spent the past six years mixing up a potent blend of black and heavy metal across three long players that take the NWoBHM energy, blackened aggression, and the occultic flair of 70s hard/prog rock.1 Astral Spectre’s third revelation, 2026s Cosmic Mirage, is poised to be the project’s most ambitious record, taking their established sound and putting it through “more sophisticated arrangements” and utilizing “professional mixing for the first time.” It all looks good to me, but are Astral Spectre the real deal, or is Cosmic Mirage just that?

Astral Spectre’s sound is indebted to the proto-metal and progressive rock of the 1970s, but Cosmic Mirage is no mere exercise in nostalgia. Take Nite and give them Blue Öyster Cult’s guitar tone, longer songs, a meaner blackened rasp, a Hammond organ, and (sometimes) a clarinet, and you’d get Cosmic Mirage. Black metal manifests in Tenebros’ aforementioned rasping, foreboding tones and odd blast beats (“Chronomancer,” “Dancing with Ghosts”), but Astral Spectre’s bread and butter is warm, lively rock n’ roll. NWoBHM twin guitars soar over most tracks, dominating “Stardrifter” and “The Witch’s Waltz” while keys fill out the middle ranges where a rhythm guitar typically would. The organ towers over Cosmic Mirage, adding weight and texture to Astral Spectre’s sound while lending Cosmic Mirage a deeper gothic edge (“The Witch’s Waltz”). Astral Spectre also use clarinet on certain tracks, imbuing snaky, sultry leads to “Death of Osiris” while trading solos with the guitar on “The Demon’s Offer.” Overall, though Cosmic Mirage evokes a specific scene and era of music’s past, Astral Spectre stand on their own through creative utilization of its various pieces.

Cosmic Mirage by Astral Spectre

Cosmic Mirage is at its best when Astral Spectre simply floor it. The opening duo of “Stardrifter” and “Chonomancer” bubble over with energetic hooks, roaring with Iron Maiden gallops and punchy, off-kilter keys that don’t let up and make for one of the best one-two punches I’ve heard this year. Tenebros’ drumming deserves recognition, as he can lend songs like “Cosmic Mirage” and “Stardrifter” ridiculously propulsive energy while laying down serious groove over the Opeth-meets-Maiden “Death of Osiris.” The drumming is brisk, but so slick that it feels laid back, working nicely with Tenebros’ thrumming yet reserved bass playing. But where Cosmic Mirage shines brightest is in its solos, where fast, classically-influenced and highly melodic playing evoke the likes of Adrian Smith (“Stardrifter”), Ritchie Blackmore (“Dancing with Ghosts”) and Eddie Van Halen (“Death of Osiris”). When it all comes together, Astral Spectre sounds like a souped-up Kansas or Blue Öyster Cult crushing it with Tribulation. And that’s just beautiful.

The only knock against Cosmic Mirage is when Astral Spectre’s progressive tendencies come at the expense of hookiness. Astral Spectre flexes their songcraft on longer cuts “Death of Osiris” and “Cosmic Mirage,” and though both songs have good moments, they are bogged down by slow passages that aren’t as vital as the faster, more rockin’ tunes. “Death of Osiris” in particular languishes in repetition for its first half, riffing on a thoroughly cliché “Egyptian” melody before sliding into an Iron Maidenesque bass-plucked build-up to the clarinet solo, where things finally take off.2 “Cosmic Mirage” starts strong with a driving beat and strong hooks before dropping into a spacey, Pink Floyd-like passage that just doesn’t demand your attention as much, and by the time Astral Spectre get their momentum back, the song is basically over. Also, Cosmic Mirage’s clarinet, while it weaves compelling melodies and lends the album a uniquely mellow mood, is always way upfront in the mix and tends to drown out the guitar. This and an understated bass presence are the only gripes I have with the otherwise warm and open mix of Cosmic Mirage, just as Astral Spectre’s few hiccups regarding their longer songs are the only real problems I have with the album at large.

Cosmic Mirage has more going on than it seems at first glance. Besides some missteps in the longer songs, Astral Spectre crafted an ambitious, engrossing, and deviously fun album that anyone with a love for twin guitars should get behind. Tenebros is a phenomenal musician and the fact that Astral Spectre aren’t signed baffles me. As rich as it is immediate, Cosmic Mirage has grown on me with every listen, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it continues to grow well into the year. Chase the mirage!

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 10 | V0 VBR mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: astral-spectre.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/OfficialAstralSpectre
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

This year has already kicked off in thrash-tastic fashion. We’ve seen new releases from the likes of Megadeth, Exodus, and Kreator, with Anthrax and more on the way. A quick check of my thrash bingo card shows that, by the end of the year, at least half of the “Big 4”1 will have dropped new records, with many of the honorable-mention heavyweights joining the fray. While we wait for the next boot to drop, we turn our attention to Würzburg, Germany’s Zerre, one of modern thrash’s promising upstarts. Their debut, Scorched Souls, was a Metallica-meets-Municipal Waste slab of old-school aggression loaded with crossover, beer-chugging grooves. Taking the foundations of their debut, Rotting on a Golden Throne finds Zerre tearing through nine tracks with a sharpened sense of purpose—more aggressive, more political, and more sadistic than its predecessor. And let me tell you, it delivers in spades. I hope you’re thirsty for some tallboys, because thrash is still on the menu.

Forging their songwriting into material that’s meaner, tighter, and far more assured, Rotting on a Golden Throne shines with the violently tempered alloy of classic thrash and modern crossover’s street-level grit that never lets its energy wane. Heavily steeped in Municipal Waste’s party chaos and …And Justice for All’s rapid, surgical picking, Zerre also imbues the album with Power Trip’s coarseness, Anthrax’s stomping swagger (“Killing Taste”) and the frantic wails of Slayer (“No Alibi,” “Deception of the Weak”). Riffs hit in relentless waves, with raw aggression spilling over into massive, replay-ready grooves, while strategically placed interludes are woven directly into the album’s 40-minute runtime rather than sliced off as filler (“Mental Vacation,” “Rotting on a Golden Throne”). This smart choice gives Rotting on a Golden Throne a more cohesive flow and breaks up the record’s accelerated attack just enough to keep things elastic. Zerre delivers it all seamlessly, with a dialed‑up piss‑and‑vinegar attitude that hits you right between the eyes.

Rotting on a Golden Throne by Zerre

Neck-snapping riffs abound on Rotting on a Golden Throne, driven by Zerre’s full-throttle dual axe attack of Dominik Bertelt and Rocco Lepore. The two throw their weight around effortlessly with hyperspeed picking mixed with trilling, power cord syncopations, whammy dives, and a metric ton of technical solos. After the “Battery”-inspired acoustic intro, “Pigs will be Pigs” fires the first shot with blistering runs that give way to a soaring melodic solo, while “Deception of the Weak” counters with sharp twin harmonies and nimble hammer‑ons and pull‑offs. Even the slower approach of “Concrete Hell” packs a punch and “Tin God” seals the deal with a squealing, tapping frenzy that illustrates how purposefully Zerre uses solos—coupled with keen songwriting—to drive the record’s peaks. The Nordic folk lick stretching out into intertwining leads in “Mental Vacation” is also a pleasant surprise, as is the power metal riff in the self-titled track, proving that when these guys branch out of their comfort zone, they do so tastefully and with restraint rather than veering off into left field.

Vocalist Nick Ziska2 brings a feral edge to Zerre’s sound. His performance swings between Tom Araya‑styled screams (“No Alibi”) and a Riley Gale-esque snarling mid‑range, anchoring Rotting on a Golden Throne’s songs with a serrated bark that sounds abrasive and weathered, yet still clear enough to slice through the chaos. Zerre’s songwriting leans heavily on gang vocals, and while they’re a clear fallback move, they inject a sense of rowdy fun that magnifies Ziska’s lyrics and makes the choruses instantly hooky. Ziska takes the lead, and the rest of the crew pile in behind him, creating shout-along moments that demand listener participation. Lyrically, Rotting on a Golden Throne sticks to thrash’s customary grievances—anti-police sentiment, prison system disdain and broad political ire—but these tropes feel less like a crutch and more like part of the total package, reinforcing the album’s scrappy, kinetic energy.

Talking about this album in the staff lounge, our resident Reaper categorized Rotting on a Golden Throne as one of the best straight-up thrash records of the year so far, and I couldn’t agree more. Detractors may point to Zerre’s stylistic touchstones as a mere recombination of established genre language, and while they wouldn’t be wrong, I don’t care. Zerre has dropped an album that embodies everything I want my thrash to be. Rotting on a Golden Throne is bursting with energy, aggression, groove, and a sense of unfiltered fun. It’s a combination that’s hard to find in today’s thrash metal landscape, and it’s one that’s worth raising a beer for.

Rating: Great!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Websites: dyingvictimsproductions.bandcamp.com/album/rotting-on-a-golden-throne | facebook.com/zerre.thrash
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

This year has already kicked off in thrash-tastic fashion. We’ve seen new releases from the likes of Megadeth, Exodus, and Kreator, with Anthrax and more on the way. A quick check of my thrash bingo card shows that, by the end of the year, at least half of the “Big 4”1 will have dropped new records, with many of the honorable-mention heavyweights joining the fray. While we wait for the next boot to drop, we turn our attention to Würzburg, Germany’s Zerre, one of modern thrash’s promising upstarts. Their debut, Scorched Souls, was a Metallica-meets-Municipal Waste slab of old-school aggression loaded with crossover, beer-chugging grooves. Taking the foundations of their debut, Rotting on a Golden Throne finds Zerre tearing through nine tracks with a sharpened sense of purpose—more aggressive, more political, and more sadistic than its predecessor. And let me tell you, it delivers in spades. I hope you’re thirsty for some tallboys, because thrash is still on the menu.

Forging their songwriting into material that’s meaner, tighter, and far more assured, Rotting on a Golden Throne shines with the violently tempered alloy of classic thrash and modern crossover’s street-level grit that never lets its energy wane. Heavily steeped in Municipal Waste’s party chaos and …And Justice for All’s rapid, surgical picking, Zerre also imbues the album with Power Trip’s coarseness, Anthrax’s stomping swagger (“Killing Taste”) and the frantic wails of Slayer (“No Alibi,” “Deception of the Weak”). Riffs hit in relentless waves, with raw aggression spilling over into massive, replay-ready grooves, while strategically placed interludes are woven directly into the album’s 40-minute runtime rather than sliced off as filler (“Mental Vacation,” “Rotting on a Golden Throne”). This smart choice gives Rotting on a Golden Throne a more cohesive flow and breaks up the record’s accelerated attack just enough to keep things elastic. Zerre delivers it all seamlessly, with a dialed‑up piss‑and‑vinegar attitude that hits you right between the eyes.

Rotting on a Golden Throne by Zerre

Neck-snapping riffs abound on Rotting on a Golden Throne, driven by Zerre’s full-throttle dual axe attack of Dominik Bertelt and Rocco Lepore. The two throw their weight around effortlessly with hyperspeed picking mixed with trilling, power cord syncopations, whammy dives, and a metric ton of technical solos. After the “Battery”-inspired acoustic intro, “Pigs will be Pigs” fires the first shot with blistering runs that give way to a soaring melodic solo, while “Deception of the Weak” counters with sharp twin harmonies and nimble hammer‑ons and pull‑offs. Even the slower approach of “Concrete Hell” packs a punch and “Tin God” seals the deal with a squealing, tapping frenzy that illustrates how purposefully Zerre uses solos—coupled with keen songwriting—to drive the record’s peaks. The Nordic folk lick stretching out into intertwining leads in “Mental Vacation” is also a pleasant surprise, as is the power metal riff in the self-titled track, proving that when these guys branch out of their comfort zone, they do so tastefully and with restraint rather than veering off into left field.

Vocalist Nick Ziska2 brings a feral edge to Zerre’s sound. His performance swings between Tom Araya‑styled screams (“No Alibi”) and a Riley Gale-esque snarling mid‑range, anchoring Rotting on a Golden Throne’s songs with a serrated bark that sounds abrasive and weathered, yet still clear enough to slice through the chaos. Zerre’s songwriting leans heavily on gang vocals, and while they’re a clear fallback move, they inject a sense of rowdy fun that magnifies Ziska’s lyrics and makes the choruses instantly hooky. Ziska takes the lead, and the rest of the crew pile in behind him, creating shout-along moments that demand listener participation. Lyrically, Rotting on a Golden Throne sticks to thrash’s customary grievances—anti-police sentiment, prison system disdain and broad political ire—but these tropes feel less like a crutch and more like part of the total package, reinforcing the album’s scrappy, kinetic energy.

Talking about this album in the staff lounge, our resident Reaper categorized Rotting on a Golden Throne as one of the best straight-up thrash records of the year so far, and I couldn’t agree more. Detractors may point to Zerre’s stylistic touchstones as a mere recombination of established genre language, and while they wouldn’t be wrong, I don’t care. Zerre has dropped an album that embodies everything I want my thrash to be. Rotting on a Golden Throne is bursting with energy, aggression, groove, and a sense of unfiltered fun. It’s a combination that’s hard to find in today’s thrash metal landscape, and it’s one that’s worth raising a beer for.

Rating: Great!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Websites: dyingvictimsproductions.bandcamp.com/album/rotting-on-a-golden-throne | facebook.com/zerre.thrash
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Danke Metalheads aus Deutschland! Wir sind mit unserem 2. Album "My Kingdom Come" in den Metal Rock Charts!

Sagt es euren Freunden, dann klettern wir vielleich nächste Woche noch etwas nach oben mit unserer dunklen Variante von Symphonic Power Metal.
#metalgermany #germanmetal

Danke Metalheads aus Deutschland! Wir sind mit unserem 2. Album "My Kingdom Come" in den Metal Rock Charts!

Sagt es euren Freunden, dann klettern wir vielleich nächste Woche noch etwas nach oben mit unserer dunklen Variante von Symphonic Power Metal.
#metalgermany #germanmetal

Evolution. It’s one of those principles that seems to undergird just about every aspect of existence in this universe. As students of our most favorite of genres, we often speak about the “evolution of heavy metal” and how it has birthed a plethora of subgenres of varying degrees of viability. While some of these subgenres carry enough useful traits to become long-lasting pillars in the monument of heavy metal, others seem to serve the role of transitional forms or “missing links” between more well-known styles. Case in point: speed metal. Often seen as a momentary stop on metal’s journey from traditional to thrash, relatively few bands have built a career on speed alone. Acts who start with speed metal (many early thrash bands and power metal bands, especially) often incorporate other elements or transition to something else entirely. While this may be the general trend in metal’s history, Germany’s Cruel Force says, “Fuck that.”

Formed back in the late aughts as a blackened thrash/speed metal band, Cruel Force regrouped after a long hiatus, reinventing themselves as a pure and simple speed metal band with 2023’s Dawn of the Axe, an album that impressed me enough to earn a spot on my list of honorable mentions for that year. Well, if that was the dawn of the axe, 2026’s Haneda is the reign of the axe, an axe that has been meticulously honed and polished to the point of being as beautiful as it is lethal. I’d suggest doing a proper warmup before pressing play on the embedded “Whips-A-Swinging,” because severe neck damage is all but inevitable.

Haneda by CRUEL FORCE

In fact, Haneda should have come with a warning from the surgeon general stating something like, “May cause permanent stank face. May cause carpal tunnel syndrome secondary to excessive involuntary air guitar. May cause the user to run through walls, laugh maniacally at inappropriate times, or punch strangers in the face. Do not use while operating motor vehicles, as dangerous and irreversible acceleration has occurred. User may also feel the urge to destroy said vehicle with their bare hands, Street Fighter style.” And that’s just my experience with the record these maniacs have produced. Guitarist Slaughter absolutely lives up to his name, slaying all before him with unbelievable rhythm skills and classic metal leads, while Spider’s fingers crawl across his bass fretboard in an effort to keep up. Carnivore feasts, delivering a timeless, thrashy vocal performance that suits the music oh so well, but MVP honors go to drummer GG Alex, whose incessant fills have managed to become a hallmark of Cruel Force’s sound.

The prospect of 42 minutes of speed metal probably doesn’t sound all that special or exciting, but in Cruel Force’s capable hands, Haneda has managed to transcend the genre’s ham-fisted, beer-guzzling stereotype to create something truly special. The compositions are incredible, ranging from 4-minute rippers like “Whips-A-Swinging,” “Savage Gods,” “Sword of Iron,” and “Black Talon,” stretching into more complex work like “Warlords” or the album’s instrumental centerpiece “Crystal Skull,” and finishing in grand fashion with the epic, 9-minute, Song o’ the Year-frontrunning title track. Every song features wild, yet somehow graceful transitions and killer grooves, and the production is simply beautiful, proving that an album can sound authentically old and brutal while simultaneously feeling cultured and refined. I’m honestly still in shock from how hard this album hit me; what on first listen felt like just a really good speed metal album has revealed itself to be utterly excellent.

To finish my musings on evolution, Haneda sounds like a handful of speed metal bands become isolated on an island that drifted away from mainland Metal millions of years ago (let’s call this island ‘Metalgascar’) and whose progeny have spent the intervening time adapting and mutating without any other external musical influence. Where mainland Metal achieved heaviness through ever more extreme vocalization, down-tuning, and genre bastardization, Metalgascar developed its heaviness through ever-increasing speed and compositional quality. Far from being some hunched-over figure towards the beginning of heavy metal’s March of Progress, speed metal, in the form of Cruel Force, has achieved its final form, becoming Homo deus, the Übermensch, the Gigachad, or as the kids say these days, “he’s him” (or “she’s her,” or “they’re them,” if you prefer). This fantastic record will undoubtedly be on my year-end list (if not atop it), because I doubt that 2026 can produce something that’s more quintessentially metal.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Shadow Kingdom Records
Websites: cruelforce.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cruelforce
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Evolution. It’s one of those principles that seems to undergird just about every aspect of existence in this universe. As students of our most favorite of genres, we often speak about the “evolution of heavy metal” and how it has birthed a plethora of subgenres of varying degrees of viability. While some of these subgenres carry enough useful traits to become long-lasting pillars in the monument of heavy metal, others seem to serve the role of transitional forms or “missing links” between more well-known styles. Case in point: speed metal. Often seen as a momentary stop on metal’s journey from traditional to thrash, relatively few bands have built a career on speed alone. Acts who start with speed metal (many early thrash bands and power metal bands, especially) often incorporate other elements or transition to something else entirely. While this may be the general trend in metal’s history, Germany’s Cruel Force says, “Fuck that.”

Formed back in the late aughts as a blackened thrash/speed metal band, Cruel Force regrouped after a long hiatus, reinventing themselves as a pure and simple speed metal band with 2023’s Dawn of the Axe, an album that impressed me enough to earn a spot on my list of honorable mentions for that year. Well, if that was the dawn of the axe, 2026’s Haneda is the reign of the axe, an axe that has been meticulously honed and polished to the point of being as beautiful as it is lethal. I’d suggest doing a proper warmup before pressing play on the embedded “Whips-A-Swinging,” because severe neck damage is all but inevitable.

Haneda by CRUEL FORCE

In fact, Haneda should have come with a warning from the surgeon general stating something like, “May cause permanent stank face. May cause carpal tunnel syndrome secondary to excessive involuntary air guitar. May cause the user to run through walls, laugh maniacally at inappropriate times, or punch strangers in the face. Do not use while operating motor vehicles, as dangerous and irreversible acceleration has occurred. User may also feel the urge to destroy said vehicle with their bare hands, Street Fighter style.” And that’s just my experience with the record these maniacs have produced. Guitarist Slaughter absolutely lives up to his name, slaying all before him with unbelievable rhythm skills and classic metal leads, while Spider’s fingers crawl across his bass fretboard in an effort to keep up. Carnivore feasts, delivering a timeless, thrashy vocal performance that suits the music oh so well, but MVP honors go to drummer GG Alex, whose incessant fills have managed to become a hallmark of Cruel Force’s sound.

The prospect of 42 minutes of speed metal probably doesn’t sound all that special or exciting, but in Cruel Force’s capable hands, Haneda has managed to transcend the genre’s ham-fisted, beer-guzzling stereotype to create something truly special. The compositions are incredible, ranging from 4-minute rippers like “Whips-A-Swinging,” “Savage Gods,” “Sword of Iron,” and “Black Talon,” stretching into more complex work like “Warlords” or the album’s instrumental centerpiece “Crystal Skull,” and finishing in grand fashion with the epic, 9-minute, Song o’ the Year-frontrunning title track. Every song features wild, yet somehow graceful transitions and killer grooves, and the production is simply beautiful, proving that an album can sound authentically old and brutal while simultaneously feeling cultured and refined. I’m honestly still in shock from how hard this album hit me; what on first listen felt like just a really good speed metal album has revealed itself to be utterly excellent.

To finish my musings on evolution, Haneda sounds like a handful of speed metal bands become isolated on an island that drifted away from mainland Metal millions of years ago (let’s call this island ‘Metalgascar’) and whose progeny have spent the intervening time adapting and mutating without any other external musical influence. Where mainland Metal achieved heaviness through ever more extreme vocalization, down-tuning, and genre bastardization, Metalgascar developed its heaviness through ever-increasing speed and compositional quality. Far from being some hunched-over figure towards the beginning of heavy metal’s March of Progress, speed metal, in the form of Cruel Force, has achieved its final form, becoming Homo deus, the Übermensch, the Gigachad, or as the kids say these days, “he’s him” (or “she’s her,” or “they’re them,” if you prefer). This fantastic record will undoubtedly be on my year-end list (if not atop it), because I doubt that 2026 can produce something that’s more quintessentially metal.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Shadow Kingdom Records
Websites: cruelforce.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cruelforce
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

In 1560, Lope de Aguirre, a Spaniard who would deem himself the “Wrath of God,” joined Pedro de Ursúa’s expedition through the Amazon rainforest. He would eventually find himself in charge after successfully plotting to assassinate not just one, but two of the expedition’s leaders. Power hungry and full of bloodlust, Aguirre headed towards Peru to overthrow the Spanish colonial government and declare the territory for himself. Fate had other plans in mind for him, however, as his rebellion ended in his death at the hands of those he sought to overthrow. Werner Herzog perfectly captured the essence of this tale in the magnificent film Aguirre, Wrath of God,1 but clearly this is a story meant to be told in black metal. Enter Antrisch. Carcharodon heaped high praise on their debut album, Expedition II: Die Passage, which was about Sir John Franklin’s 1845 expedition in the Arctic, and predicted the independent band would soon find themselves attached to a label. Now here they are, signed with AOP Records, and ready to deliver the tale of yet another historical expedition—Expedition III: Renitenzpfad.2

With their attack-heavy brand of black metal, Antrisch is not your typical atmoblack group. Yet the atmospheric aspects of their music play a key role in their storytelling. They establish a setting through Spanish-sounding elements, such as the acoustic tremolos of what sounds like a Spanish guitar on opening song “Conquista – Prolog.” Other atmospheric touches further bring the story’s setting to life, with animal and environmental sound effects on “Verschanzt – Perleneilandterror” placing listeners firmly in the jungle. Finale “Canis Ivpvm Edit” borrows a page from Vengeful Spectre as it incorporates the din of war whilst Spanish guitars strum mournful notes. Antrisch also establish atmosphere with emotive arpeggios, ambient segments with sparse drumming, and whispered rasps from Maurice Wilson.3 They prove to be masters at immersing listeners into their narrative.

EXPEDITION III : Renitenzpfad by Antrisch

Where Antrisch really shine is in their aggressive, riff-driven black metal. Once the opening Spanish stuff ends on “Conquista – Prolog,” the tune erupts in a satisfying burst of blackened rasps, blistering blast beats, and furious riffs. And boy, do they play some great riffs. There’s a sweet melodic riff to bookend that opening song as well as some memorable tremolos throughout. The part that takes the cake is about two minutes into “Canis Ivpvm Edit,” where a bass/guitar bit combined with some impressive kitwork and vocal delivery lays down a showstopping performance. Their blend of aggressive black metal with more dramatic atmospherics has a lot in common with what Kanonenfieber do, and clearly, they have learned much from the master, Noise. Antrisch prove they can leverage their music to craft some exciting stories, even if I don’t know what the hell they’re saying.

Buoying the terrific production are some phenomenal performances. Wilson’s rasps are a force of nature. He has an entertaining vocal cadence that makes the music that much more enjoyable. His snarl is absolutely vicious, but in quieter moments, he shifts to a whispered rasp—one that’s no less menacing for being less loud. His manic energy makes for the perfect medium to tell about a madman like Aguirre. Noel Ewart Odell’s kit work has a similar persistent, manic energy. Like all aggressive black metal, he excels at incessantly pounding blast beats, but knows when to dial things back for proper ambiance and mood shifts. On occasion, he bursts into a bit of lively dance beats (“Hidalgo Infernal”) or speedy marching beats (“Bittergruen”). His omnipresence is all the more noticeable when he disappears, allowing the atmospheric elements to sink in. I’ve already spoken highly of the ever-shifting guitar work. Both Robert Falcon Strike and Alexander Gordon Laing impress with their dual attack, mixing trems with riffs and then slowing things down with poignant arpeggios. The whole crew displays an impressive bit of acrobatics and discipline.

There’s the famous Greek saying that you never “step into the same river twice, for it is not the same river.”4 Such is the case for Expedition III: Renitzenzpfad. The tracks are never the same on any given spin due to their ever-shifting, progressive structures. The constant shifts between aggression and quieter atmosphere not only keep you on your toes, but threaten to give you whiplash. While there are certainly powerful hooks you’ll keep returning to, each spin of the record reveals new depths and surprises. Antrisch successfully transport you to the lushness of the Amazon rainforest and into the mind of a madman in a riveting feat of musicianship and songwriting.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

In 1560, Lope de Aguirre, a Spaniard who would deem himself the “Wrath of God,” joined Pedro de Ursúa’s expedition through the Amazon rainforest. He would eventually find himself in charge after successfully plotting to assassinate not just one, but two of the expedition’s leaders. Power hungry and full of bloodlust, Aguirre headed towards Peru to overthrow the Spanish colonial government and declare the territory for himself. Fate had other plans in mind for him, however, as his rebellion ended in his death at the hands of those he sought to overthrow. Werner Herzog perfectly captured the essence of this tale in the magnificent film Aguirre, Wrath of God,1 but clearly this is a story meant to be told in black metal. Enter Antrisch. Carcharodon heaped high praise on their debut album, Expedition II: Die Passage, which was about Sir John Franklin’s 1845 expedition in the Arctic, and predicted the independent band would soon find themselves attached to a label. Now here they are, signed with AOP Records, and ready to deliver the tale of yet another historical expedition—Expedition III: Renitenzpfad.2

With their attack-heavy brand of black metal, Antrisch is not your typical atmoblack group. Yet the atmospheric aspects of their music play a key role in their storytelling. They establish a setting through Spanish-sounding elements, such as the acoustic tremolos of what sounds like a Spanish guitar on opening song “Conquista – Prolog.” Other atmospheric touches further bring the story’s setting to life, with animal and environmental sound effects on “Verschanzt – Perleneilandterror” placing listeners firmly in the jungle. Finale “Canis Ivpvm Edit” borrows a page from Vengeful Spectre as it incorporates the din of war whilst Spanish guitars strum mournful notes. Antrisch also establish atmosphere with emotive arpeggios, ambient segments with sparse drumming, and whispered rasps from Maurice Wilson.3 They prove to be masters at immersing listeners into their narrative.

EXPEDITION III : Renitenzpfad by Antrisch

Where Antrisch really shine is in their aggressive, riff-driven black metal. Once the opening Spanish stuff ends on “Conquista – Prolog,” the tune erupts in a satisfying burst of blackened rasps, blistering blast beats, and furious riffs. And boy, do they play some great riffs. There’s a sweet melodic riff to bookend that opening song as well as some memorable tremolos throughout. The part that takes the cake is about two minutes into “Canis Ivpvm Edit,” where a bass/guitar bit combined with some impressive kitwork and vocal delivery lays down a showstopping performance. Their blend of aggressive black metal with more dramatic atmospherics has a lot in common with what Kanonenfieber do, and clearly, they have learned much from the master, Noise. Antrisch prove they can leverage their music to craft some exciting stories, even if I don’t know what the hell they’re saying.

Buoying the terrific production are some phenomenal performances. Wilson’s rasps are a force of nature. He has an entertaining vocal cadence that makes the music that much more enjoyable. His snarl is absolutely vicious, but in quieter moments, he shifts to a whispered rasp—one that’s no less menacing for being less loud. His manic energy makes for the perfect medium to tell about a madman like Aguirre. Noel Ewart Odell’s kit work has a similar persistent, manic energy. Like all aggressive black metal, he excels at incessantly pounding blast beats, but knows when to dial things back for proper ambiance and mood shifts. On occasion, he bursts into a bit of lively dance beats (“Hidalgo Infernal”) or speedy marching beats (“Bittergruen”). His omnipresence is all the more noticeable when he disappears, allowing the atmospheric elements to sink in. I’ve already spoken highly of the ever-shifting guitar work. Both Robert Falcon Strike and Alexander Gordon Laing impress with their dual attack, mixing trems with riffs and then slowing things down with poignant arpeggios. The whole crew displays an impressive bit of acrobatics and discipline.

There’s the famous Greek saying that you never “step into the same river twice, for it is not the same river.”4 Such is the case for Expedition III: Renitzenzpfad. The tracks are never the same on any given spin due to their ever-shifting, progressive structures. The constant shifts between aggression and quieter atmosphere not only keep you on your toes, but threaten to give you whiplash. While there are certainly powerful hooks you’ll keep returning to, each spin of the record reveals new depths and surprises. Antrisch successfully transport you to the lushness of the Amazon rainforest and into the mind of a madman in a riveting feat of musicianship and songwriting.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Reviewing albums explicitly labelled post-metal always seems to bring out my inner pedant. I know all genre labels are kind of meaningless, but post-metal specifically seems to simply be slapped onto anything with fewer riffs than your average atmo-black record, but a lot more cleans. Nonetheless, you know what it sounds like, in essence. If that essence had form, it could be Unverkalt on their third LP Héréditaire. Born in Greece and now split between Greece and Germany, Unverkalt’s self-styled avant-garde approach to post-metal takes its “heaviest and most heartfelt” form on this album, which also marks their signing with Season of Mist. Unknown to me beforehand, promotional references to Cut of Luna and Sylvaine in particular caught my eye, along with the art. I’m glad I picked it up because Unverkalt have something that approaches brilliance at many times. But in embodying the vague yet recognisable subgenre—and sounding good whilst doing it—Héréditaire fails to go further than the safety of the minimum required.

Ignore the artist touchstones in the promo; Unverkalt has little meaningful in common with them: a female lead vocalist is about where that starts and ends. If anything, the aura reflects more Harakiri for the Sky, Heretoir, or maybe Frayle. Lead vocalist Dimitra Kalavrezou sings with a distinctive, somewhat sweet intonation, and screams with articulate fierceness—impressive considering this is her first record providing harsh vocals. Her voice is joined by that of guitarist Eli Mavrychev and—in a late-album highlight—Sakis Tolis (“I, The Deceit”), often layered and intermingled to lend a chorus-of-many-voices air that can be quite powerful. This sense of solidarity and humanity ties into Héréditaire’s overt emotionality—easily its greatest asset—which revolves around mournful yet uplifting themes that rise from softly resonant notes into the (regrettably blurry) weeping of tremolo and chunky riffs. It’s through the continued swell and fade of each composition that we get to see the greats that Unverkalt is capable of.

Héréditaire by Unverkalt

Even as songs tend to repeat the same pattern, most manage to draw the listener in. Synths (“Oath ov Prometheus”), vaguely MENA-style saxophone (“Ænæ Lithi”), and sprinklings of piano (“Penumbrian Lament”), and humming strings (“Maladie de l’Esprit”)1 float in and out, and I only wish they were used more. Harnessing the drama of surging, urgent riffs (“Die Auslöschung,” “Oath ov Prometheus”) and heartfelt group screams and singing (“Death is Forever,” “A Lullaby for the Descent”), the iterated compositions win you over by sheer force. These plainly beautiful melodies and ardent vocal performances are inextricable, each lending the other a level of strength and gravity neither could claim in isolation. Some songs stand head and shoulders above others in this regard: “Die Auslöschung,” “Death is Forever,” “Maladie de l’Esprit,” and in particular, “I, the Deceit,” where Sakis Tolis brings not only his voice but a distinctly Scandinavian melodeath2 vibe to a song where he and Dimitria also duet in their shared native tongue. That song and many others are also examples of Unverkalt’s strange, quasi-pop-rock leanings that they incorporate through the use of bobbing, understated clean refrains that slingshot back into something heavier or more atmospheric (“Oath ov Prometheus,” “A Lullaby for the Descent,” “Introjects”). This weirdness sharpens Unverkalt’s style and works surprisingly well.

Héréditaire thus brims with feeling, strong melodies, and potential. Undeniably stirring at its best (“Die Auslöschung,” “I, the Deceit,” “Maladie de l’Esprit”), and with little idiosyncrasies of style giving it distinction, as a whole it feels oddly unrealised. One culprit is the shockingly compressed mix, which robs the guitars of their body and drums of their bite. Given the vocal range on display and the elements of instrumental experimentation (horns, piano, etc), this would sound far better with a roomier production. But it’s primarily the overly repetitive structure of the compositions that causes issues. Though the passion of the singing or screaming, and the force of a good melody cause you to briefly forget, every song follows essentially the same trajectory—or rather, the same sequence of things repeats across the album, sometimes spanning between songs. Whispers or quiet singing, a steady beat and post-rock atmosphere, black-adjacent speed and screaming, and a lapse into a swaying tempo. With nine tracks adding up to around 50 minutes, you start to notice.

I don’t want to rag on Héréditarire too much; it’s a good album. The fervency and melancholia of the vocal performances—from Dimitria especially—and melodies show the passion behind the project, and there’s a thread of individuality that could pull them out of obscurity. But for as expressive, intriguing, and compelling as their music often is, Unverkalt’s reluctance—or inability—to step outside of a template holds them down when they could be soaring.

Rating: Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Reviewing albums explicitly labelled post-metal always seems to bring out my inner pedant. I know all genre labels are kind of meaningless, but post-metal specifically seems to simply be slapped onto anything with fewer riffs than your average atmo-black record, but a lot more cleans. Nonetheless, you know what it sounds like, in essence. If that essence had form, it could be Unverkalt on their third LP Héréditaire. Born in Greece and now split between Greece and Germany, Unverkalt’s self-styled avant-garde approach to post-metal takes its “heaviest and most heartfelt” form on this album, which also marks their signing with Season of Mist. Unknown to me beforehand, promotional references to Cut of Luna and Sylvaine in particular caught my eye, along with the art. I’m glad I picked it up because Unverkalt have something that approaches brilliance at many times. But in embodying the vague yet recognisable subgenre—and sounding good whilst doing it—Héréditaire fails to go further than the safety of the minimum required.

Ignore the artist touchstones in the promo; Unverkalt has little meaningful in common with them: a female lead vocalist is about where that starts and ends. If anything, the aura reflects more Harakiri for the Sky, Heretoir, or maybe Frayle. Lead vocalist Dimitra Kalavrezou sings with a distinctive, somewhat sweet intonation, and screams with articulate fierceness—impressive considering this is her first record providing harsh vocals. Her voice is joined by that of guitarist Eli Mavrychev and—in a late-album highlight—Sakis Tolis (“I, The Deceit”), often layered and intermingled to lend a chorus-of-many-voices air that can be quite powerful. This sense of solidarity and humanity ties into Héréditaire’s overt emotionality—easily its greatest asset—which revolves around mournful yet uplifting themes that rise from softly resonant notes into the (regrettably blurry) weeping of tremolo and chunky riffs. It’s through the continued swell and fade of each composition that we get to see the greats that Unverkalt is capable of.

Héréditaire by Unverkalt

Even as songs tend to repeat the same pattern, most manage to draw the listener in. Synths (“Oath ov Prometheus”), vaguely MENA-style saxophone (“Ænæ Lithi”), and sprinklings of piano (“Penumbrian Lament”), and humming strings (“Maladie de l’Esprit”)1 float in and out, and I only wish they were used more. Harnessing the drama of surging, urgent riffs (“Die Auslöschung,” “Oath ov Prometheus”) and heartfelt group screams and singing (“Death is Forever,” “A Lullaby for the Descent”), the iterated compositions win you over by sheer force. These plainly beautiful melodies and ardent vocal performances are inextricable, each lending the other a level of strength and gravity neither could claim in isolation. Some songs stand head and shoulders above others in this regard: “Die Auslöschung,” “Death is Forever,” “Maladie de l’Esprit,” and in particular, “I, the Deceit,” where Sakis Tolis brings not only his voice but a distinctly Scandinavian melodeath2 vibe to a song where he and Dimitria also duet in their shared native tongue. That song and many others are also examples of Unverkalt’s strange, quasi-pop-rock leanings that they incorporate through the use of bobbing, understated clean refrains that slingshot back into something heavier or more atmospheric (“Oath ov Prometheus,” “A Lullaby for the Descent,” “Introjects”). This weirdness sharpens Unverkalt’s style and works surprisingly well.

Héréditaire thus brims with feeling, strong melodies, and potential. Undeniably stirring at its best (“Die Auslöschung,” “I, the Deceit,” “Maladie de l’Esprit”), and with little idiosyncrasies of style giving it distinction, as a whole it feels oddly unrealised. One culprit is the shockingly compressed mix, which robs the guitars of their body and drums of their bite. Given the vocal range on display and the elements of instrumental experimentation (horns, piano, etc), this would sound far better with a roomier production. But it’s primarily the overly repetitive structure of the compositions that causes issues. Though the passion of the singing or screaming, and the force of a good melody cause you to briefly forget, every song follows essentially the same trajectory—or rather, the same sequence of things repeats across the album, sometimes spanning between songs. Whispers or quiet singing, a steady beat and post-rock atmosphere, black-adjacent speed and screaming, and a lapse into a swaying tempo. With nine tracks adding up to around 50 minutes, you start to notice.

I don’t want to rag on Héréditarire too much; it’s a good album. The fervency and melancholia of the vocal performances—from Dimitria especially—and melodies show the passion behind the project, and there’s a thread of individuality that could pull them out of obscurity. But for as expressive, intriguing, and compelling as their music often is, Unverkalt’s reluctance—or inability—to step outside of a template holds them down when they could be soaring.

Rating: Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Finally, the new year is upon us! A fresh start for some, same shit different year for others; mainly, my minions who toil in the mines ducts of the Filter. Since they don’t get any holidays, they probably don’t even fucking know it’s 2026 yet, but that’s okay. As long as they come back to HQ with a substantial haul, their ability to know when it is is immaterial.

These are the sacrifices we (not me, though), make to ensure you get the goods relatively on time-ish. So say thank you!

Kenstrosity’s Freaky Foursome

Upiór // Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) [January 2nd, 2026 – Self Released]

Featuring members of Gorod (Benoit Claus) and Xaoc (Kévin Paradis), Upiór pinged my radar after a certain cosmic Discordian pinged me. A blistering combination of Fleshgod Apocalypse opulence and Wachenfeldt aggression, sophomore release Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) impressed me immediately as “The Black Paintings ripped my face right off. “A Blessing or a Curse” doubled down on speed, blasting rhythms, and eerie melodies to propel itself straight into my Song o’ the Year long-list. Even with three instrumental interludes, all of which are quite fluffy, Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) crams pummeling riffs, exuberant percussion, and dramatic lushness into its 51-minute runtime. “Forefathers’ Eve (Part I),” a fantastic companion to Fleshgod Apocalypse’s “Cold As Perfection” without aping its features, conjures a similarly affecting character that draws me in completely. Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption)’s middle section continues to build personality and develop greater dynamics from that point, represented most clearly in melodic riffs and expressive leads/soloing (“The Woman that Weeps”). Leading into its conclusion, a tonal shift towards the dire at this junction foreshadows the imminent release of Upiór’s second act, Forefathers’ Eve (Damnation) (due in early April), charring songs like “Forefather’s Eve (Part II)” and “Between the Living and Dead” with blackened rabidity and dissonant flourishes. All of this to say, Upiór launched this latest arc with a striking blow, and I can only imagine what’s in store for Damnation.

Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) by Upiór

KadavriK // Erde666 [January 9th, 2026 – Self Released]

Germany’s melodic death metal quintet KadavriK have been cranking out records since 2007, but I only heard about them this year, once again, thanks to Discord. Erde666, their fifth outing, takes an unorthodox and progressive approach to melodic death metal, which makes comparisons difficult to draw. Stripped down and raw in some moments, mystical and lush in others, Erde666 is all about textures. Its opening title track explores that spectrum of sounds and philosophies to its fullest, even drawing heavy influence from blues, psychedelia, and sludge at times (“Getrümmerfreund”), but it all coalesces seamlessly. Following up an opener as strong as that would be a tall order for anyone, but KadavriK are clever songwriters, and the long form served them well even compared to the more straightforward tracklists of previous installments (“Nihilist,” “Das Ende Des Anthropozäns”). Off-kilter guitar melodies countered against twinkling Kalmah synths and sweeping strings do a lot of work to elevate and liven the crushing chords of their high-impact riffs as well, which adds a ton of interest into an already unconventional melodic death record (“Widerhall”). All of this makes for a record that might not be as immediate or fast-paced as most aim for in this space, but, counterintuitively, significantly more memorable. Don’t sleep on this one, folks!

Erde 666 by KadavriK

Luminesce // Like Crushed Violets and Linen [November 20th, 2026 – Self Released]

Prolific at a scale I haven’t witnessed since Déhà, Luminesce mastermind Alice Simard, based in Québec, piqued my curiosity for the first time with Like Crushed Violets and Linen, her sophomore effort under the Luminesce moniker. Boasting machine-gun rapidity (“Exploited Monochromaticism”), off-kilter rhythms (“Silver”), and a downright romantic sense of melody (“Like Crushed Violets and Linen,” “Lamp of Fulguration”)—countered by lyrical themes ranging from guilt complexes to gender identity (“To Restore”)—Like Crushed Violets and Linen is a deeply personal record forged in a melodic technical death metal mold. And as such a record, it recalls the vicarious guitar pyrotechnics of Inferi and Obscura while securing a melodic sensibility more in line with neoclassical composition (“The Covenant of Counterfeit Stars”). Unlike many of her contemporaries, however, Alice is a master of editing. Filled with killer ideas and instrumental wizardry without involving a drop of bloat, each of these seven songs coalesce into a buttery-smooth 30-minute excursion that punches far above its feathery mass. The addition of delightful chiptune dalliances helps distinguish Luminesce further from the pack (“To Restore”), though I’m torn about how far forward they are in the mix. In fact, the mix is my main gripe, as Like Crushed Violets and Linen is muffled and a bit flat, despite boasting a much-appreciated meaty bass presence. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for an unlikely tech-death contender, Luminesce might be just what you need.

Like Crushed Violets and Linen by Luminesce

Bone Storm // Daemon Breed [January 30th, 2026 – Self Released]

As the CEO of this Filter company, I withhold the right to break the rules and include a very cool bonus fourth option, Bone Storm’s cavebrained Daemon Breed. Do you like Bolt Thrower? Yes, you do. Do you like Bear Mace? Yes, you do. By proxy, then, you already like Connecticut’s Bone Storm as they draw from the same chunky, groove-laden school of death metal. At a somewhat overachieving 50 minutes, Daemon Breed pummels the listener beneath a veritable smorgasbord of neck-breaking riffs built upon a framework of triplet grooves, swaggering syncopations, and galloping double bass assaults. Their approach is simple and unburdened by blistering speed, fiddly technicality, or atmospheric deviation, and in that way recalls the undeniable immediacy and brutal effectiveness of records like Black Royal’s Firebride. With highlights “Heaven’s End (Burn Them All),” “Plaguerider,” “Sanctimonious Morality,” and above all “Ritual Supremacy,” Bone Storm use that approach with aplomb, proving that the spirit of classic, no-frills death metal is vital and vicarious. Delightfully cogent roars and gutturals allow the most difficult deliveries (see “Daemon Breed”) to feel vicious and purposeful, while a subtle thread of melody (see “Cursed Born”) affords the record a small measure of songwriting variety to break things up just when Daemon Breed needs it most. Heavy reliance on triplets and perhaps a zealous desire to put down every idea that seems good even if it’s placed immediately adjacent to much better one (“Halo of Disease” and “Hammer of Judas” bookending “Ritual Supremacy” are tough positions to defend, as is “Wrist Slitter” next to the fun Frozen Soul-esque “Blood Priest”), hold it back from higher praise only mildly. Moral of the story? Enter the bone zone, with haste!

Daemon Breed by Bone Storm

Creeping Ivy’s Riffy Remainder

Lord Elephant // Ultra Soul [January 30th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

Sometimes, you don’t need dynamic songwriting, harmonic density, or even a vocalist. Sometimes, all you need are riffs. Okay, and maybe some psychedelic leads to go over those riffs. Ultra Soul, the sophomore album from Italian instrumental trio Lord Elephant, delivers 48 minutes of pure, mostly unadulterated stoner-doom. In the feudal jungle of heavy riff rock, Lord Elephant pays scutage to King Buffalo, similarly forming longish compositions where simple, bluesy figures reign supreme, stretching their limbs in grassy patches. Occasionally, guitarist Leandro Gaccione, bassist Edoardo De Nardi, and drummer Tommaso Urzino lock into some lively, head-bobbing grooves (“Gigantia”). But mostly, Lord Elephant keeps things meditative, hypnotizing listeners with Earthless drones and lurches (“Smoke Tower,” “Black River Blues”). De Nardi’s bass often leads the way (“Electric Dunes”), the underwater tone of which reminds me of falling for Isis.1 Lord Elephant aren’t reinventing any wheels here; the familiarity of their bluesy riffing simply won’t interest those for whom such bluesiness is a staid marker of old-man rock. The absence of vocals, however, makes Ultra Soul work as pseudo-ambient music that can set the mood, or accompany tasks, or gateway a normie. Closer listening will reveal, though, a tight trio reveling in the rudiments of rock music—a drummer, bassist, and guitarist vibing on a riff.

Ultra Soul by Lord Elephant

Andy-War-Hall’s Salvaged Windfall

Juodvarnis // Tékmés [January 23rd, 2026 – Self Released]

Lithuania’s Juodvarnis cooked for a long six years between albums for their fourth record Tékmés. With the confidence and sharpness displayed on all levels by Juodvarnis here, that was clearly time well spent in the kitchen. Sporting a brand of progressive black metal that blends the Enslaved framework of prog-black with the epic heft and melody of Iotunn and the crushing rhythms and harsh vocals of Gojira, Tékmés is tight, lively and achieves a remarkable level of melancholic thoughtfulness without neglecting the average listener’s chronic need for riffs. Translated to “flow” from Hungarian,2 Tékmés navigates inter-song and album-wide progressions of pummeling rhythms (“Dvasios Ligos”) and slow marches (“Tamsiausias Nušvitimas”), impassioned clean vocals (“Platybės”) and razor-throated screams (“Juodos Akys”) to achieve a gradual, natural sense of advancement across its 42-minute journey. If progressive black metal that knows how to riff and can turn the reverb off 11 sounds like a good time to you, give Juodvarnis’ Tékmés a shot sometime.

Tékmés by Juodvarnis

Thus Spoke’s Obscure Offerings

Ectovoid // In Unreality’s Coffin [January 9th, 2026 – Everlasting Spew Records]

Normally, it takes copious amounts of reverb, wonkiness, melody, or turbo-dissonance for death metal to be palatable to me. Every once in a while, however, an album like Ectovoid’s In Unreality’s Coffin comes along and shows me that there is another way. The music’s stickiness has a lot to do with its boundary-straddling take on OSDM. Ostensibly, the battering, percussion, sawblade riffing, and gruff gurgling growls mark it as your everyday modern no-nonsense death metal, somewhere between Cryptopsy and Immolation. But In Unreality’s Coffin is more like tech-death, disso-death, and brutal-death in a trench coat than it is any one of them, or another subgenre.3 Its arpeggios can be rhythmically snappy, sometimes combined with equally sharp vocal delivery (“Intrusive Illusions (Echoes from a Distant Plane)”), but more often than not channel a churning chaos that resists punchiness for a darker unease I find addictive (“Collapsing Spiritual Nebula,” “Erroneous Birth”). The music is constantly speeding up or slowing down, churning guitars collapsing with slides (“Dissonance Corporeum”) or pitching upwards in squeals (“In Anguished Levitation”), or evolving into mania as screams and growls fragment and layer (“Formless Seeking Form”). Rather than being exhausting, it’s exhilarating, with expertly-timed releases of diabolically echoing melody (“Collapsing Spiritual Nebula”) or a new groove to latch onto (“In Unreality’s Coffin”) coming to keep you afloat. Ectovoid keep you guessing without actually really pushing the boundaries, making In Unreality’s Coffin both a lot of fun and straightforwardly br00tal enough to sustain a savage workout; or just a really intense 45 minutes.

In Unreality’s Coffin by Ectovoid

Exxûl // Sealed into None [January 15th, 2026 – Productions TSO]

Phil Tougas has had an impressive start to the year. Before Worm’s Necropalace this February, came Sealed into None, the debut by Exxûl—a genre-blending, kinda blackened epic-power-doom-heavy-metal group also comprising several of Phil’s Atramentus band-mates. Several people brought up this album in the comments on my Worm review, often to the tune of “Exxûl better,” and while I respectfully disagree on the quality ranking of the two, I can’t deny how fabulous Sealed into None is. Here again are genres of music I’m usually unable to connect with—in this instance, power and classical heavy metal—but shaped in a way that opens my eyes and ears. Yes, the high-pitched wail style of singing first took me a little off-guard when they first arose on “Blighted Deity,” and they offend my usual tastes. But they are impressive, and work in a way I thought only harsh vocals could when following the trajectory of distorted keys and guitar (“Walls of Endless Darkness”), or shouting into an atmospheric abyss (“The Screaming Tower”). Oh, and of course, the overall vibe of magnificent, melodramatic blackened doom that sets the scene, capped off with—predictably—phenomenal guitarwork, is just magic and enough for me to get past my knee-jerk vocal ick and love it not in spite of that, but because of what it can bring to the whole. I love the slow builds to dazzling solos (“Bells of the Exxûl through to “Blighted Deity,” “The Screaming Tower”) and the way the camper, heavy-metal sides blur into something darker (“Labyrinthine Fate”). I just love this album, to be honest.

Sealed Into None by Exxûl

ClarkKent’s Canadian Catch

Turpitude // Mordoré [January 1, 2026 – Self Released]

Since 2019, Alice Simard has been a prolific presence in Quebec’s underground metal scene. She consistently releases albums for several different projects, from the ambient atmoblack of Coffret de Bijoux to the tech death of Luminesce (also uncovered in this month’s Filter by our Sponge Fren). Mordoré, the fourth full-length for Turpitude, thrives on its riffs and carries a cheerful energy reminiscent of the carefree raw black metal of Grime Stone Records stalwarts Wizard Keep and Old Nick. Yet Simard opts for traditional instruments, no synths, though production choices make the drumsticks sound as if they’re banging against blocks of wood, give the guitars a lofi reverb, and cause Simard’s voice to fade into the background in a cavernous growl. The riffs are the real star, with some terrifically catchy melodic leads and trems throughout (“La Traverse Mordorée,” “Aller de L’avant”). This combination of riffs, a raw sound, and often upbeat tunes draws comparison to Trhä and To Escape. While Mordoré keeps a mostly cheery tone, Turpitude’s no one-trick pony. There’s a tinge of the melancholic on the moody, atmospheric “Peintra,” as well as a successful stab at covering a non-metal song a lá Spider God on “Washing Machine Heart.”4 This is a worthwhile endeavor for those who like their black metal raw and energetic.

Mordoré by Turpitude

Grin Reaper’s Heavy Haul

Valiant Sentinel // Neverealm [January 16th, 2026 – Theogonia Records]

Greek heavy metal heroes Valiant Sentinel dropped their sophomore platter Neverealm back in mid-January, unleashing forty-six minutes that reek of high fantasy. Galloping riffs, driving drums, and vocal harmonies aplenty supply a cinematic adventure that basks in fun. While the pacing of Neverealm mainly operates in high-energy bombast, Valiant Sentinel smartly weaves in mid-paced might, evidenced by how the controlled assault of “Mirkwood Forest” provides a breather after opening chest-thumpers “War in Heaven” and “Neverealm.” Acoustic pieces “To Mend the Ring” and “Come What May” further diversify Neverealm’s heavy metal holdings, and while I’m usually keener on more aggressive numbers, these two tracks comprise some of my favorite moments on the album.5 Mostly, Valiant Sentinel summons comparisons to Germany’s heavy/power scene—chief among them Blind Guardian—going so far as to bring in BG drummer extraordinaire Frederik Ehmke. I also catch fleeting glimpses of Brainstorm and Mystic Prophecy in Valiant Sentinel’s DNA, though guitarist and composer Dimitris Skodras does a commendable job carving out a distinct identity for the band. Featuring skilled performances across the board and guest spots from Burning Witches’ Laura Guldemond (“Neverealm”) and Savatage’s Zak Stevens (“Arch Nemesis”), Valiant Sentinel packs loads of drama into a streamlined package. So what are you waiting for? Go grab your polyhedrals and a Spelljammer, and set sail for Neverealm.

Neverealm by Valiant Sentinel

Fili Bibiano’s Fortress // Death Is Your Master [January 30th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Does Shredphobia keep you away from metal? Does the sultry siren call of licks, riffs, and chugs make you break into a cold sweat? If so, I strongly urge you to stay away from Fortress’ sophomore album, Death Is Your Master. Channeling Tony Martin-era Black Sabbath and 80s Judas Priest, Fortress drops six-string shenanigans that’ll get your booty shaking and the floor quaking, offering a romping retro slab that goes down slow ‘n’ easy. The overt classic 80s heavy metal worship on tracks “Flesh and Dagger” and “Night City” delivers riff after riff recalling the glory days, giving Fortress an authenticity that expands what could have otherwise been a one-dimensional LP. Guitarist Fili Bibiano sizzles with axe-slinging abandon, occasionally conjuring the neoclassical debauchery of Yngwie (“Savage Sword,” “Maze”). Still, it’s not all about the guitar, and drummer Joey Mancaruso and vocalist Juan Aguila nail their contributions as Fortress wends their way through a trim thirty-four minutes. On a guitar-forward album featuring slick songwriting and singalong jams, Death Is Your Master bumps, dives, and wails in a slow-burn frenzy of classic heavy goodness. Dig in!

Death Is Your Master by Fili Bibiano’s Fortress

Baguette’s Brutal Burglary

Skulld // Abyss Calls to Abyss [January 23rd, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

While last year was alright for death metal and notably starred Dormant Ordeal, I felt it was lacking in quantity of impressive releases for said cornerstone of the metal underground. Fortunately, Italian group Skulld is here to start off the year with a bang! Abyss Calls to Abyss takes Bolt Thrower’s tank-rolling grooves (“Mother Death”) and Dismember’s melodic buzzsaw action (“Wear the Night as a Velvet Cloak”) and adds in some crust punk influence as extra seasoning (“Le Diable and the Snake”). It feels like they’ve taken some influence from both Finnish and Swedish varieties of death metal as well, and I’m here for it! The band is fluent in switching things up at the drop of a hat without sacrificing energy or cohesion. “Mother Death” and “Drops of Sorrow” go from heavy, dissonant chords to big lead guitar melodies, which in turn lead to a chunky and punky death metal groove that’s bound to get your head moving. Teo’s drumming controls the mood in excellent fashion, adding fast blast beats or slow-pummelling stomps when called for. The vicious, varied growls of Pam further cement the violence contained within and add to the album’s attitude. At a brief 34 minutes spread over eight songs, it wastes no time going for your throat in a multitude of ways. Get this album into your skull or get Skulld!

Abyss Call To Abyss by Skulld

Total Annihilation // Mountains of Madness [January 16th, 2026 – Testimony Records]

What would happen if you took Vader, Slayer and Sodom and threw them in a big ol’ manic death/thrash blender? The answer is Mountains of Madness! While Swiss Total Annihilation’s earliest works were more in line with classic ’80s thrash metal, they have increasingly moved towards more aggressive and relentless pastures, and their songwriting is all the better for it. Fourth album Mountains of Madness channels records like Vader’s Litany and Sodom’s Tapping the Vein in particular (“The Art of Torture,” “Age of Mental Suicide”), taking advantage of a relentless, drum-forward groove and a furious vocal performance. The album’s dual guitar attack weaves together thrashier tunes with parts that reach straight up Swedeath territory, be it melodic or not. In addition, tracks like “Mountains of Madness” and “Choose the Day” throw some melodic thrash akin to Sodom’s self-titled album into the mix for that extra bit of variety and replay value. Mountains of Madness isn’t afraid to slow things down with a satisfying lead riff, but most of Mountains of Madness is at a respectful lightning-fast pace, as thrash should. Another brief but powerful addition to the January pile ov skulls!

Mountains Of Madness by Total Annihilation

Polaris Experience // Drifting Through Voids [January 2nd, 2026 – Distant Comet Entertainment]

On the earliest days of the year, Japan delivered an awesome surprise drop of death metal-influenced progressive thrash! Polaris Experience features various Cynical riffs (“Interplanetary Funambulist,” “Bathyscapes”) while sporting a similarly old-school guitar tone throughout. Being progressive thrash, the main focus is naturally on the oh-so-sweet instrumentation that balances melody and groove seamlessly. The instrumental “Parvati” alone highlights how tight everything is, from the snappy drumming to the bouncy bass work. Most importantly, the music is catchy and memorable despite its relative complexity and lack of brevity. Additionally, Drifting Through Voids uses vocals sparingly but in all the right ways, complementing its technicalities with a traditional thrashy, harsh bark. The fact that it’s a two-man project and a debut makes it all the more impressive. Fans of similar recent progressive and technical shenanigans like Species should take notes post-haste. Considering we’ve already had this and Cryptic Shift this early in the year, and how prog/tech thrash is usually only allowed one or two notable albums per year, we could be in for a banner year for the subgenre. It also marks the first time in ages that a Japanese album has genuinely good production. Welcome to the new millennium!

Drifting Through Voids by Polaris Experience

Finally, the new year is upon us! A fresh start for some, same shit different year for others; mainly, my minions who toil in the mines ducts of the Filter. Since they don’t get any holidays, they probably don’t even fucking know it’s 2026 yet, but that’s okay. As long as they come back to HQ with a substantial haul, their ability to know when it is is immaterial.

These are the sacrifices we (not me, though), make to ensure you get the goods relatively on time-ish. So say thank you!

Kenstrosity’s Freaky Foursome

Upiór // Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) [January 2nd, 2026 – Self Released]

Featuring members of Gorod (Benoit Claus) and Xaoc (Kévin Paradis), Upiór pinged my radar after a certain cosmic Discordian pinged me. A blistering combination of Fleshgod Apocalypse opulence and Wachenfeldt aggression, sophomore release Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) impressed me immediately as “The Black Paintings ripped my face right off. “A Blessing or a Curse” doubled down on speed, blasting rhythms, and eerie melodies to propel itself straight into my Song o’ the Year long-list. Even with three instrumental interludes, all of which are quite fluffy, Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) crams pummeling riffs, exuberant percussion, and dramatic lushness into its 51-minute runtime. “Forefathers’ Eve (Part I),” a fantastic companion to Fleshgod Apocalypse’s “Cold As Perfection” without aping its features, conjures a similarly affecting character that draws me in completely. Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption)’s middle section continues to build personality and develop greater dynamics from that point, represented most clearly in melodic riffs and expressive leads/soloing (“The Woman that Weeps”). Leading into its conclusion, a tonal shift towards the dire at this junction foreshadows the imminent release of Upiór’s second act, Forefathers’ Eve (Damnation) (due in early April), charring songs like “Forefather’s Eve (Part II)” and “Between the Living and Dead” with blackened rabidity and dissonant flourishes. All of this to say, Upiór launched this latest arc with a striking blow, and I can only imagine what’s in store for Damnation.

Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) by Upiór

KadavriK // Erde666 [January 9th, 2026 – Self Released]

Germany’s melodic death metal quintet KadavriK have been cranking out records since 2007, but I only heard about them this year, once again, thanks to Discord. Erde666, their fifth outing, takes an unorthodox and progressive approach to melodic death metal, which makes comparisons difficult to draw. Stripped down and raw in some moments, mystical and lush in others, Erde666 is all about textures. Its opening title track explores that spectrum of sounds and philosophies to its fullest, even drawing heavy influence from blues, psychedelia, and sludge at times (“Getrümmerfreund”), but it all coalesces seamlessly. Following up an opener as strong as that would be a tall order for anyone, but KadavriK are clever songwriters, and the long form served them well even compared to the more straightforward tracklists of previous installments (“Nihilist,” “Das Ende Des Anthropozäns”). Off-kilter guitar melodies countered against twinkling Kalmah synths and sweeping strings do a lot of work to elevate and liven the crushing chords of their high-impact riffs as well, which adds a ton of interest into an already unconventional melodic death record (“Widerhall”). All of this makes for a record that might not be as immediate or fast-paced as most aim for in this space, but, counterintuitively, significantly more memorable. Don’t sleep on this one, folks!

Erde 666 by KadavriK

Luminesce // Like Crushed Violets and Linen [November 20th, 2026 – Self Released]

Prolific at a scale I haven’t witnessed since Déhà, Luminesce mastermind Alice Simard, based in Québec, piqued my curiosity for the first time with Like Crushed Violets and Linen, her sophomore effort under the Luminesce moniker. Boasting machine-gun rapidity (“Exploited Monochromaticism”), off-kilter rhythms (“Silver”), and a downright romantic sense of melody (“Like Crushed Violets and Linen,” “Lamp of Fulguration”)—countered by lyrical themes ranging from guilt complexes to gender identity (“To Restore”)—Like Crushed Violets and Linen is a deeply personal record forged in a melodic technical death metal mold. And as such a record, it recalls the vicarious guitar pyrotechnics of Inferi and Obscura while securing a melodic sensibility more in line with neoclassical composition (“The Covenant of Counterfeit Stars”). Unlike many of her contemporaries, however, Alice is a master of editing. Filled with killer ideas and instrumental wizardry without involving a drop of bloat, each of these seven songs coalesce into a buttery-smooth 30-minute excursion that punches far above its feathery mass. The addition of delightful chiptune dalliances helps distinguish Luminesce further from the pack (“To Restore”), though I’m torn about how far forward they are in the mix. In fact, the mix is my main gripe, as Like Crushed Violets and Linen is muffled and a bit flat, despite boasting a much-appreciated meaty bass presence. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for an unlikely tech-death contender, Luminesce might be just what you need.

Like Crushed Violets and Linen by Luminesce

Bone Storm // Daemon Breed [January 30th, 2026 – Self Released]

As the CEO of this Filter company, I withhold the right to break the rules and include a very cool bonus fourth option, Bone Storm’s cavebrained Daemon Breed. Do you like Bolt Thrower? Yes, you do. Do you like Bear Mace? Yes, you do. By proxy, then, you already like Connecticut’s Bone Storm as they draw from the same chunky, groove-laden school of death metal. At a somewhat overachieving 50 minutes, Daemon Breed pummels the listener beneath a veritable smorgasbord of neck-breaking riffs built upon a framework of triplet grooves, swaggering syncopations, and galloping double bass assaults. Their approach is simple and unburdened by blistering speed, fiddly technicality, or atmospheric deviation, and in that way recalls the undeniable immediacy and brutal effectiveness of records like Black Royal’s Firebride. With highlights “Heaven’s End (Burn Them All),” “Plaguerider,” “Sanctimonious Morality,” and above all “Ritual Supremacy,” Bone Storm use that approach with aplomb, proving that the spirit of classic, no-frills death metal is vital and vicarious. Delightfully cogent roars and gutturals allow the most difficult deliveries (see “Daemon Breed”) to feel vicious and purposeful, while a subtle thread of melody (see “Cursed Born”) affords the record a small measure of songwriting variety to break things up just when Daemon Breed needs it most. Heavy reliance on triplets and perhaps a zealous desire to put down every idea that seems good even if it’s placed immediately adjacent to much better one (“Halo of Disease” and “Hammer of Judas” bookending “Ritual Supremacy” are tough positions to defend, as is “Wrist Slitter” next to the fun Frozen Soul-esque “Blood Priest”), hold it back from higher praise only mildly. Moral of the story? Enter the bone zone, with haste!

Daemon Breed by Bone Storm

Creeping Ivy’s Riffy Remainder

Lord Elephant // Ultra Soul [January 30th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

Sometimes, you don’t need dynamic songwriting, harmonic density, or even a vocalist. Sometimes, all you need are riffs. Okay, and maybe some psychedelic leads to go over those riffs. Ultra Soul, the sophomore album from Italian instrumental trio Lord Elephant, delivers 48 minutes of pure, mostly unadulterated stoner-doom. In the feudal jungle of heavy riff rock, Lord Elephant pays scutage to King Buffalo, similarly forming longish compositions where simple, bluesy figures reign supreme, stretching their limbs in grassy patches. Occasionally, guitarist Leandro Gaccione, bassist Edoardo De Nardi, and drummer Tommaso Urzino lock into some lively, head-bobbing grooves (“Gigantia”). But mostly, Lord Elephant keeps things meditative, hypnotizing listeners with Earthless drones and lurches (“Smoke Tower,” “Black River Blues”). De Nardi’s bass often leads the way (“Electric Dunes”), the underwater tone of which reminds me of falling for Isis.1 Lord Elephant aren’t reinventing any wheels here; the familiarity of their bluesy riffing simply won’t interest those for whom such bluesiness is a staid marker of old-man rock. The absence of vocals, however, makes Ultra Soul work as pseudo-ambient music that can set the mood, or accompany tasks, or gateway a normie. Closer listening will reveal, though, a tight trio reveling in the rudiments of rock music—a drummer, bassist, and guitarist vibing on a riff.

Ultra Soul by Lord Elephant

Andy-War-Hall’s Salvaged Windfall

Juodvarnis // Tékmés [January 23rd, 2026 – Self Released]

Lithuania’s Juodvarnis cooked for a long six years between albums for their fourth record Tékmés. With the confidence and sharpness displayed on all levels by Juodvarnis here, that was clearly time well spent in the kitchen. Sporting a brand of progressive black metal that blends the Enslaved framework of prog-black with the epic heft and melody of Iotunn and the crushing rhythms and harsh vocals of Gojira, Tékmés is tight, lively and achieves a remarkable level of melancholic thoughtfulness without neglecting the average listener’s chronic need for riffs. Translated to “flow” from Hungarian,2 Tékmés navigates inter-song and album-wide progressions of pummeling rhythms (“Dvasios Ligos”) and slow marches (“Tamsiausias Nušvitimas”), impassioned clean vocals (“Platybės”) and razor-throated screams (“Juodos Akys”) to achieve a gradual, natural sense of advancement across its 42-minute journey. If progressive black metal that knows how to riff and can turn the reverb off 11 sounds like a good time to you, give Juodvarnis’ Tékmés a shot sometime.

Tékmés by Juodvarnis

Thus Spoke’s Obscure Offerings

Ectovoid // In Unreality’s Coffin [January 9th, 2026 – Everlasting Spew Records]

Normally, it takes copious amounts of reverb, wonkiness, melody, or turbo-dissonance for death metal to be palatable to me. Every once in a while, however, an album like Ectovoid’s In Unreality’s Coffin comes along and shows me that there is another way. The music’s stickiness has a lot to do with its boundary-straddling take on OSDM. Ostensibly, the battering, percussion, sawblade riffing, and gruff gurgling growls mark it as your everyday modern no-nonsense death metal, somewhere between Cryptopsy and Immolation. But In Unreality’s Coffin is more like tech-death, disso-death, and brutal-death in a trench coat than it is any one of them, or another subgenre.3 Its arpeggios can be rhythmically snappy, sometimes combined with equally sharp vocal delivery (“Intrusive Illusions (Echoes from a Distant Plane)”), but more often than not channel a churning chaos that resists punchiness for a darker unease I find addictive (“Collapsing Spiritual Nebula,” “Erroneous Birth”). The music is constantly speeding up or slowing down, churning guitars collapsing with slides (“Dissonance Corporeum”) or pitching upwards in squeals (“In Anguished Levitation”), or evolving into mania as screams and growls fragment and layer (“Formless Seeking Form”). Rather than being exhausting, it’s exhilarating, with expertly-timed releases of diabolically echoing melody (“Collapsing Spiritual Nebula”) or a new groove to latch onto (“In Unreality’s Coffin”) coming to keep you afloat. Ectovoid keep you guessing without actually really pushing the boundaries, making In Unreality’s Coffin both a lot of fun and straightforwardly br00tal enough to sustain a savage workout; or just a really intense 45 minutes.

In Unreality’s Coffin by Ectovoid

Exxûl // Sealed into None [January 15th, 2026 – Productions TSO]

Phil Tougas has had an impressive start to the year. Before Worm’s Necropalace this February, came Sealed into None, the debut by Exxûl—a genre-blending, kinda blackened epic-power-doom-heavy-metal group also comprising several of Phil’s Atramentus band-mates. Several people brought up this album in the comments on my Worm review, often to the tune of “Exxûl better,” and while I respectfully disagree on the quality ranking of the two, I can’t deny how fabulous Sealed into None is. Here again are genres of music I’m usually unable to connect with—in this instance, power and classical heavy metal—but shaped in a way that opens my eyes and ears. Yes, the high-pitched wail style of singing first took me a little off-guard when they first arose on “Blighted Deity,” and they offend my usual tastes. But they are impressive, and work in a way I thought only harsh vocals could when following the trajectory of distorted keys and guitar (“Walls of Endless Darkness”), or shouting into an atmospheric abyss (“The Screaming Tower”). Oh, and of course, the overall vibe of magnificent, melodramatic blackened doom that sets the scene, capped off with—predictably—phenomenal guitarwork, is just magic and enough for me to get past my knee-jerk vocal ick and love it not in spite of that, but because of what it can bring to the whole. I love the slow builds to dazzling solos (“Bells of the Exxûl through to “Blighted Deity,” “The Screaming Tower”) and the way the camper, heavy-metal sides blur into something darker (“Labyrinthine Fate”). I just love this album, to be honest.

Sealed Into None by Exxûl

ClarkKent’s Canadian Catch

Turpitude // Mordoré [January 1, 2026 – Self Released]

Since 2019, Alice Simard has been a prolific presence in Quebec’s underground metal scene. She consistently releases albums for several different projects, from the ambient atmoblack of Coffret de Bijoux to the tech death of Luminesce (also uncovered in this month’s Filter by our Sponge Fren). Mordoré, the fourth full-length for Turpitude, thrives on its riffs and carries a cheerful energy reminiscent of the carefree raw black metal of Grime Stone Records stalwarts Wizard Keep and Old Nick. Yet Simard opts for traditional instruments, no synths, though production choices make the drumsticks sound as if they’re banging against blocks of wood, give the guitars a lofi reverb, and cause Simard’s voice to fade into the background in a cavernous growl. The riffs are the real star, with some terrifically catchy melodic leads and trems throughout (“La Traverse Mordorée,” “Aller de L’avant”). This combination of riffs, a raw sound, and often upbeat tunes draws comparison to Trhä and To Escape. While Mordoré keeps a mostly cheery tone, Turpitude’s no one-trick pony. There’s a tinge of the melancholic on the moody, atmospheric “Peintra,” as well as a successful stab at covering a non-metal song a lá Spider God on “Washing Machine Heart.”4 This is a worthwhile endeavor for those who like their black metal raw and energetic.

Mordoré by Turpitude

Grin Reaper’s Heavy Haul

Valiant Sentinel // Neverealm [January 16th, 2026 – Theogonia Records]

Greek heavy metal heroes Valiant Sentinel dropped their sophomore platter Neverealm back in mid-January, unleashing forty-six minutes that reek of high fantasy. Galloping riffs, driving drums, and vocal harmonies aplenty supply a cinematic adventure that basks in fun. While the pacing of Neverealm mainly operates in high-energy bombast, Valiant Sentinel smartly weaves in mid-paced might, evidenced by how the controlled assault of “Mirkwood Forest” provides a breather after opening chest-thumpers “War in Heaven” and “Neverealm.” Acoustic pieces “To Mend the Ring” and “Come What May” further diversify Neverealm’s heavy metal holdings, and while I’m usually keener on more aggressive numbers, these two tracks comprise some of my favorite moments on the album.5 Mostly, Valiant Sentinel summons comparisons to Germany’s heavy/power scene—chief among them Blind Guardian—going so far as to bring in BG drummer extraordinaire Frederik Ehmke. I also catch fleeting glimpses of Brainstorm and Mystic Prophecy in Valiant Sentinel’s DNA, though guitarist and composer Dimitris Skodras does a commendable job carving out a distinct identity for the band. Featuring skilled performances across the board and guest spots from Burning Witches’ Laura Guldemond (“Neverealm”) and Savatage’s Zak Stevens (“Arch Nemesis”), Valiant Sentinel packs loads of drama into a streamlined package. So what are you waiting for? Go grab your polyhedrals and a Spelljammer, and set sail for Neverealm.

Neverealm by Valiant Sentinel

Fili Bibiano’s Fortress // Death Is Your Master [January 30th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Does Shredphobia keep you away from metal? Does the sultry siren call of licks, riffs, and chugs make you break into a cold sweat? If so, I strongly urge you to stay away from Fortress’ sophomore album, Death Is Your Master. Channeling Tony Martin-era Black Sabbath and 80s Judas Priest, Fortress drops six-string shenanigans that’ll get your booty shaking and the floor quaking, offering a romping retro slab that goes down slow ‘n’ easy. The overt classic 80s heavy metal worship on tracks “Flesh and Dagger” and “Night City” delivers riff after riff recalling the glory days, giving Fortress an authenticity that expands what could have otherwise been a one-dimensional LP. Guitarist Fili Bibiano sizzles with axe-slinging abandon, occasionally conjuring the neoclassical debauchery of Yngwie (“Savage Sword,” “Maze”). Still, it’s not all about the guitar, and drummer Joey Mancaruso and vocalist Juan Aguila nail their contributions as Fortress wends their way through a trim thirty-four minutes. On a guitar-forward album featuring slick songwriting and singalong jams, Death Is Your Master bumps, dives, and wails in a slow-burn frenzy of classic heavy goodness. Dig in!

Death Is Your Master by Fili Bibiano’s Fortress

Baguette’s Brutal Burglary

Skulld // Abyss Calls to Abyss [January 23rd, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

While last year was alright for death metal and notably starred Dormant Ordeal, I felt it was lacking in quantity of impressive releases for said cornerstone of the metal underground. Fortunately, Italian group Skulld is here to start off the year with a bang! Abyss Calls to Abyss takes Bolt Thrower’s tank-rolling grooves (“Mother Death”) and Dismember’s melodic buzzsaw action (“Wear the Night as a Velvet Cloak”) and adds in some crust punk influence as extra seasoning (“Le Diable and the Snake”). It feels like they’ve taken some influence from both Finnish and Swedish varieties of death metal as well, and I’m here for it! The band is fluent in switching things up at the drop of a hat without sacrificing energy or cohesion. “Mother Death” and “Drops of Sorrow” go from heavy, dissonant chords to big lead guitar melodies, which in turn lead to a chunky and punky death metal groove that’s bound to get your head moving. Teo’s drumming controls the mood in excellent fashion, adding fast blast beats or slow-pummelling stomps when called for. The vicious, varied growls of Pam further cement the violence contained within and add to the album’s attitude. At a brief 34 minutes spread over eight songs, it wastes no time going for your throat in a multitude of ways. Get this album into your skull or get Skulld!

Abyss Call To Abyss by Skulld

Total Annihilation // Mountains of Madness [January 16th, 2026 – Testimony Records]

What would happen if you took Vader, Slayer and Sodom and threw them in a big ol’ manic death/thrash blender? The answer is Mountains of Madness! While Swiss Total Annihilation’s earliest works were more in line with classic ’80s thrash metal, they have increasingly moved towards more aggressive and relentless pastures, and their songwriting is all the better for it. Fourth album Mountains of Madness channels records like Vader’s Litany and Sodom’s Tapping the Vein in particular (“The Art of Torture,” “Age of Mental Suicide”), taking advantage of a relentless, drum-forward groove and a furious vocal performance. The album’s dual guitar attack weaves together thrashier tunes with parts that reach straight up Swedeath territory, be it melodic or not. In addition, tracks like “Mountains of Madness” and “Choose the Day” throw some melodic thrash akin to Sodom’s self-titled album into the mix for that extra bit of variety and replay value. Mountains of Madness isn’t afraid to slow things down with a satisfying lead riff, but most of Mountains of Madness is at a respectful lightning-fast pace, as thrash should. Another brief but powerful addition to the January pile ov skulls!

Mountains Of Madness by Total Annihilation

Polaris Experience // Drifting Through Voids [January 2nd, 2026 – Distant Comet Entertainment]

On the earliest days of the year, Japan delivered an awesome surprise drop of death metal-influenced progressive thrash! Polaris Experience features various Cynical riffs (“Interplanetary Funambulist,” “Bathyscapes”) while sporting a similarly old-school guitar tone throughout. Being progressive thrash, the main focus is naturally on the oh-so-sweet instrumentation that balances melody and groove seamlessly. The instrumental “Parvati” alone highlights how tight everything is, from the snappy drumming to the bouncy bass work. Most importantly, the music is catchy and memorable despite its relative complexity and lack of brevity. Additionally, Drifting Through Voids uses vocals sparingly but in all the right ways, complementing its technicalities with a traditional thrashy, harsh bark. The fact that it’s a two-man project and a debut makes it all the more impressive. Fans of similar recent progressive and technical shenanigans like Species should take notes post-haste. Considering we’ve already had this and Cryptic Shift this early in the year, and how prog/tech thrash is usually only allowed one or two notable albums per year, we could be in for a banner year for the subgenre. It also marks the first time in ages that a Japanese album has genuinely good production. Welcome to the new millennium!

Drifting Through Voids by Polaris Experience