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Yoth Iria – Gone with the Devil Review

When I see the title of Yoth Iria’s third full-length, Gone with the Devil, I can’t help but…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2.0 #2026 #ArchEnemy #BlackMetal #Entertainment #Equilibrium #GonewiththeDevil #GreekMetal #Havukruunu #ImagineDragons #May26 #MetalBladeRecords #review #reviews #RottingChrist #Varathron #YothIria
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/623364/

Yoth Iria – Gone with the Devil Review

When I see the title of Yoth Iria’s third full-length, Gone with the Devil, I can’t help but…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2.0 #2026 #ArchEnemy #BlackMetal #Entertainment #Equilibrium #GonewiththeDevil #GreekMetal #Havukruunu #ImagineDragons #May26 #MetalBladeRecords #review #reviews #RottingChrist #Varathron #YothIria
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/623364/

When I see the title of Yoth Iria’s third full-length, Gone with the Devil, I can’t help but think of the Spanish farewell, “vaya con Dios,” or “go with God.” Originally—and still, in some circles—the phrase was an earnest blessing and wish for safety; however, centuries have stained it with a negative connotation. The phrase can now showcase a speaker’s disapproval for the recipient’s intended actions, implying that whatever they’re going to do is dumb enough that only God will be able to get them through it. After two enjoyable-to-impressive albums, is Yoth Iria’s cheeky inversion of the phrase a genuine wish for guidance from the Son of the Morning, or is Gone with the Devil a hot mess only Satan can save?

On 2021 debut As the Flame Withers and 2024 follow-up Blazing Inferno, Yoth Iria’s sound was focused—Hellenic black metal injected with a mix of 70s-80s metal and Middle Eastern atmospherics. Gone with the Devil sees the Athens-based five-piece employ a more exploratory, instinctual, and unrestricted approach to composition…or so the promo material says. In actuality, Yoth Iria leans into accessibility. Elements of their original Hellenic sound remain (“The Blind Eye of Antichrist,” “Woven Spells of a Demon”), infusing the album with a warmth typically absent in black metal. But with tracks that wouldn’t be out of place on an Equilibrium record (“Dare to Rebel”), the newest Arch Enemy (“I Totem,” “Blessed Be He Who Enters”), or a metalized Imagine Dragons (“3AM,” “Once in a Blue Moon”), Gone with the Devil feels fundamentally different from previous releases.

In pursuing wider appeal, Yoth Iria dilutes much of what made them unique, and Gone with the Devil is less engaging for it. The markers of heavy music are all still present—blast beats, harsh vocals, distorted guitars, etc.—but the soul that gives an album weight is totally absent. “3AM” is as forgettable as elevator muzak, and much of the back half of Gone with the Devil1 shares a similar mid/slow-paced rhythm that barely gets my eyes open, let alone my heart pumping. Predictable song structures and played-out tropes, like whispers preceding a heavier passage (“I Totem”) or synths/folk instrumentals returning to bolster a final chorus (“Give ‘Em My Beautiful Hell”), give the impression that Yoth Iria is just going through the motions or following someone else’s recipe.

This isn’t to say Gone with the Devil is bad. Yoth Iria, as a band, is obviously wildly talented, and what they do play, they play well. There are some songwriting bungles, like the end of “I Totem,” the pacing of “Harut-Government-Fallen,” and the choral chanting of “The Blind Eye of Antichrist,” but the album flows well and sounds great. Guitarists Nikolas Perlepe and Naberius weave a lush tapestry of blackened trem-picked riffs and retro leads (“I Totem,” “Give ‘Em My Beautiful Hell”), while bassist Jim Mutilator’s (ex-Rotting Christ, ex-Varathron) presence and influence infuse every second of Gone with the Devil. Vocalist HE and drummer Bill “Vongaar” Stavrianidis have excellent synergy, driving the album’s atmosphere and the ebb and flow of its tension. These performances shine thanks to Gone with the Devil’s production. The vocals might be a smidge forward and the rhythm guitars a touch back, but the mix is both intimate and spacious, offering warmth and clarity on an open soundstage.

Sound and performance can’t save an album, though. Where once Yoth Iria demanded my attention with a unique sound, Gone with the Devil seems geared toward maximum radio engagement or being inoffensive corporate playlist fodder. During my time with the album, I often felt like I was listening to a Temu version of Havukruunu. A seemingly intentional forfeiture of individuality, vapid filler track energy,2 and uninteresting—though adeptly played—instrumental performances make Yoth Iria’s latest a far cry from their previous work. Again, Gone with the Devil isn’t a bad album per se. It’s just milquetoast and unremarkable.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites:Official | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

When I see the title of Yoth Iria’s third full-length, Gone with the Devil, I can’t help but think of the Spanish farewell, “vaya con Dios,” or “go with God.” Originally—and still, in some circles—the phrase was an earnest blessing and wish for safety; however, centuries have stained it with a negative connotation. The phrase can now showcase a speaker’s disapproval for the recipient’s intended actions, implying that whatever they’re going to do is dumb enough that only God will be able to get them through it. After two enjoyable-to-impressive albums, is Yoth Iria’s cheeky inversion of the phrase a genuine wish for guidance from the Son of the Morning, or is Gone with the Devil a hot mess only Satan can save?

On 2021 debut As the Flame Withers and 2024 follow-up Blazing Inferno, Yoth Iria’s sound was focused—Hellenic black metal injected with a mix of 70s-80s metal and Middle Eastern atmospherics. Gone with the Devil sees the Athens-based five-piece employ a more exploratory, instinctual, and unrestricted approach to composition…or so the promo material says. In actuality, Yoth Iria leans into accessibility. Elements of their original Hellenic sound remain (“The Blind Eye of Antichrist,” “Woven Spells of a Demon”), infusing the album with a warmth typically absent in black metal. But with tracks that wouldn’t be out of place on an Equilibrium record (“Dare to Rebel”), the newest Arch Enemy (“I Totem,” “Blessed Be He Who Enters”), or a metalized Imagine Dragons (“3AM,” “Once in a Blue Moon”), Gone with the Devil feels fundamentally different from previous releases.

In pursuing wider appeal, Yoth Iria dilutes much of what made them unique, and Gone with the Devil is less engaging for it. The markers of heavy music are all still present—blast beats, harsh vocals, distorted guitars, etc.—but the soul that gives an album weight is totally absent. “3AM” is as forgettable as elevator muzak, and much of the back half of Gone with the Devil1 shares a similar mid/slow-paced rhythm that barely gets my eyes open, let alone my heart pumping. Predictable song structures and played-out tropes, like whispers preceding a heavier passage (“I Totem”) or synths/folk instrumentals returning to bolster a final chorus (“Give ‘Em My Beautiful Hell”), give the impression that Yoth Iria is just going through the motions or following someone else’s recipe.

This isn’t to say Gone with the Devil is bad. Yoth Iria, as a band, is obviously wildly talented, and what they do play, they play well. There are some songwriting bungles, like the end of “I Totem,” the pacing of “Harut-Government-Fallen,” and the choral chanting of “The Blind Eye of Antichrist,” but the album flows well and sounds great. Guitarists Nikolas Perlepe and Naberius weave a lush tapestry of blackened trem-picked riffs and retro leads (“I Totem,” “Give ‘Em My Beautiful Hell”), while bassist Jim Mutilator’s (ex-Rotting Christ, ex-Varathron) presence and influence infuse every second of Gone with the Devil. Vocalist HE and drummer Bill “Vongaar” Stavrianidis have excellent synergy, driving the album’s atmosphere and the ebb and flow of its tension. These performances shine thanks to Gone with the Devil’s production. The vocals might be a smidge forward and the rhythm guitars a touch back, but the mix is both intimate and spacious, offering warmth and clarity on an open soundstage.

Sound and performance can’t save an album, though. Where once Yoth Iria demanded my attention with a unique sound, Gone with the Devil seems geared toward maximum radio engagement or being inoffensive corporate playlist fodder. During my time with the album, I often felt like I was listening to a Temu version of Havukruunu. A seemingly intentional forfeiture of individuality, vapid filler track energy,2 and uninteresting—though adeptly played—instrumental performances make Yoth Iria’s latest a far cry from their previous work. Again, Gone with the Devil isn’t a bad album per se. It’s just milquetoast and unremarkable.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites:Official | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

When I see the title of Yoth Iria’s third full-length, Gone with the Devil, I can’t help but think of the Spanish farewell, “vaya con Dios,” or “go with God.” Originally—and still, in some circles—the phrase was an earnest blessing and wish for safety; however, centuries have stained it with a negative connotation. The phrase can now showcase a speaker’s disapproval for the recipient’s intended actions, implying that whatever they’re going to do is dumb enough that only God will be able to get them through it. After two enjoyable-to-impressive albums, is Yoth Iria’s cheeky inversion of the phrase a genuine wish for guidance from the Son of the Morning, or is Gone with the Devil a hot mess only Satan can save?

On 2021 debut As the Flame Withers and 2024 follow-up Blazing Inferno, Yoth Iria’s sound was focused—Hellenic black metal injected with a mix of 70s-80s metal and Middle Eastern atmospherics. Gone with the Devil sees the Athens-based five-piece employ a more exploratory, instinctual, and unrestricted approach to composition…or so the promo material says. In actuality, Yoth Iria leans into accessibility. Elements of their original Hellenic sound remain (“The Blind Eye of Antichrist,” “Woven Spells of a Demon”), infusing the album with a warmth typically absent in black metal. But with tracks that wouldn’t be out of place on an Equilibrium record (“Dare to Rebel”), the newest Arch Enemy (“I Totem,” “Blessed Be He Who Enters”), or a metalized Imagine Dragons (“3AM,” “Once in a Blue Moon”), Gone with the Devil feels fundamentally different from previous releases.

In pursuing wider appeal, Yoth Iria dilutes much of what made them unique, and Gone with the Devil is less engaging for it. The markers of heavy music are all still present—blast beats, harsh vocals, distorted guitars, etc.—but the soul that gives an album weight is totally absent. “3AM” is as forgettable as elevator muzak, and much of the back half of Gone with the Devil1 shares a similar mid/slow-paced rhythm that barely gets my eyes open, let alone my heart pumping. Predictable song structures and played-out tropes, like whispers preceding a heavier passage (“I Totem”) or synths/folk instrumentals returning to bolster a final chorus (“Give ‘Em My Beautiful Hell”), give the impression that Yoth Iria is just going through the motions or following someone else’s recipe.

This isn’t to say Gone with the Devil is bad. Yoth Iria, as a band, is obviously wildly talented, and what they do play, they play well. There are some songwriting bungles, like the end of “I Totem,” the pacing of “Harut-Government-Fallen,” and the choral chanting of “The Blind Eye of Antichrist,” but the album flows well and sounds great. Guitarists Nikolas Perlepe and Naberius weave a lush tapestry of blackened trem-picked riffs and retro leads (“I Totem,” “Give ‘Em My Beautiful Hell”), while bassist Jim Mutilator’s (ex-Rotting Christ, ex-Varathron) presence and influence infuse every second of Gone with the Devil. Vocalist HE and drummer Bill “Vongaar” Stavrianidis have excellent synergy, driving the album’s atmosphere and the ebb and flow of its tension. These performances shine thanks to Gone with the Devil’s production. The vocals might be a smidge forward and the rhythm guitars a touch back, but the mix is both intimate and spacious, offering warmth and clarity on an open soundstage.

Sound and performance can’t save an album, though. Where once Yoth Iria demanded my attention with a unique sound, Gone with the Devil seems geared toward maximum radio engagement or being inoffensive corporate playlist fodder. During my time with the album, I often felt like I was listening to a Temu version of Havukruunu. A seemingly intentional forfeiture of individuality, vapid filler track energy,2 and uninteresting—though adeptly played—instrumental performances make Yoth Iria’s latest a far cry from their previous work. Again, Gone with the Devil isn’t a bad album per se. It’s just milquetoast and unremarkable.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites:Official | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

When I see the title of Yoth Iria’s third full-length, Gone with the Devil, I can’t help but think of the Spanish farewell, “vaya con Dios,” or “go with God.” Originally—and still, in some circles—the phrase was an earnest blessing and wish for safety; however, centuries have stained it with a negative connotation. The phrase can now showcase a speaker’s disapproval for the recipient’s intended actions, implying that whatever they’re going to do is dumb enough that only God will be able to get them through it. After two enjoyable-to-impressive albums, is Yoth Iria’s cheeky inversion of the phrase a genuine wish for guidance from the Son of the Morning, or is Gone with the Devil a hot mess only Satan can save?

On 2021 debut As the Flame Withers and 2024 follow-up Blazing Inferno, Yoth Iria’s sound was focused—Hellenic black metal injected with a mix of 70s-80s metal and Middle Eastern atmospherics. Gone with the Devil sees the Athens-based five-piece employ a more exploratory, instinctual, and unrestricted approach to composition…or so the promo material says. In actuality, Yoth Iria leans into accessibility. Elements of their original Hellenic sound remain (“The Blind Eye of Antichrist,” “Woven Spells of a Demon”), infusing the album with a warmth typically absent in black metal. But with tracks that wouldn’t be out of place on an Equilibrium record (“Dare to Rebel”), the newest Arch Enemy (“I Totem,” “Blessed Be He Who Enters”), or a metalized Imagine Dragons (“3AM,” “Once in a Blue Moon”), Gone with the Devil feels fundamentally different from previous releases.

In pursuing wider appeal, Yoth Iria dilutes much of what made them unique, and Gone with the Devil is less engaging for it. The markers of heavy music are all still present—blast beats, harsh vocals, distorted guitars, etc.—but the soul that gives an album weight is totally absent. “3AM” is as forgettable as elevator muzak, and much of the back half of Gone with the Devil1 shares a similar mid/slow-paced rhythm that barely gets my eyes open, let alone my heart pumping. Predictable song structures and played-out tropes, like whispers preceding a heavier passage (“I Totem”) or synths/folk instrumentals returning to bolster a final chorus (“Give ‘Em My Beautiful Hell”), give the impression that Yoth Iria is just going through the motions or following someone else’s recipe.

This isn’t to say Gone with the Devil is bad. Yoth Iria, as a band, is obviously wildly talented, and what they do play, they play well. There are some songwriting bungles, like the end of “I Totem,” the pacing of “Harut-Government-Fallen,” and the choral chanting of “The Blind Eye of Antichrist,” but the album flows well and sounds great. Guitarists Nikolas Perlepe and Naberius weave a lush tapestry of blackened trem-picked riffs and retro leads (“I Totem,” “Give ‘Em My Beautiful Hell”), while bassist Jim Mutilator’s (ex-Rotting Christ, ex-Varathron) presence and influence infuse every second of Gone with the Devil. Vocalist HE and drummer Bill “Vongaar” Stavrianidis have excellent synergy, driving the album’s atmosphere and the ebb and flow of its tension. These performances shine thanks to Gone with the Devil’s production. The vocals might be a smidge forward and the rhythm guitars a touch back, but the mix is both intimate and spacious, offering warmth and clarity on an open soundstage.

Sound and performance can’t save an album, though. Where once Yoth Iria demanded my attention with a unique sound, Gone with the Devil seems geared toward maximum radio engagement or being inoffensive corporate playlist fodder. During my time with the album, I often felt like I was listening to a Temu version of Havukruunu. A seemingly intentional forfeiture of individuality, vapid filler track energy,2 and uninteresting—though adeptly played—instrumental performances make Yoth Iria’s latest a far cry from their previous work. Again, Gone with the Devil isn’t a bad album per se. It’s just milquetoast and unremarkable.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites:Official | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

When I see the title of Yoth Iria’s third full-length, Gone with the Devil, I can’t help but think of the Spanish farewell, “vaya con Dios,” or “go with God.” Originally—and still, in some circles—the phrase was an earnest blessing and wish for safety; however, centuries have stained it with a negative connotation. The phrase can now showcase a speaker’s disapproval for the recipient’s intended actions, implying that whatever they’re going to do is dumb enough that only God will be able to get them through it. After two enjoyable-to-impressive albums, is Yoth Iria’s cheeky inversion of the phrase a genuine wish for guidance from the Son of the Morning, or is Gone with the Devil a hot mess only Satan can save?

On 2021 debut As the Flame Withers and 2024 follow-up Blazing Inferno, Yoth Iria’s sound was focused—Hellenic black metal injected with a mix of 70s-80s metal and Middle Eastern atmospherics. Gone with the Devil sees the Athens-based five-piece employ a more exploratory, instinctual, and unrestricted approach to composition…or so the promo material says. In actuality, Yoth Iria leans into accessibility. Elements of their original Hellenic sound remain (“The Blind Eye of Antichrist,” “Woven Spells of a Demon”), infusing the album with a warmth typically absent in black metal. But with tracks that wouldn’t be out of place on an Equilibrium record (“Dare to Rebel”), the newest Arch Enemy (“I Totem,” “Blessed Be He Who Enters”), or a metalized Imagine Dragons (“3AM,” “Once in a Blue Moon”), Gone with the Devil feels fundamentally different from previous releases.

In pursuing wider appeal, Yoth Iria dilutes much of what made them unique, and Gone with the Devil is less engaging for it. The markers of heavy music are all still present—blast beats, harsh vocals, distorted guitars, etc.—but the soul that gives an album weight is totally absent. “3AM” is as forgettable as elevator muzak, and much of the back half of Gone with the Devil1 shares a similar mid/slow-paced rhythm that barely gets my eyes open, let alone my heart pumping. Predictable song structures and played-out tropes, like whispers preceding a heavier passage (“I Totem”) or synths/folk instrumentals returning to bolster a final chorus (“Give ‘Em My Beautiful Hell”), give the impression that Yoth Iria is just going through the motions or following someone else’s recipe.

This isn’t to say Gone with the Devil is bad. Yoth Iria, as a band, is obviously wildly talented, and what they do play, they play well. There are some songwriting bungles, like the end of “I Totem,” the pacing of “Harut-Government-Fallen,” and the choral chanting of “The Blind Eye of Antichrist,” but the album flows well and sounds great. Guitarists Nikolas Perlepe and Naberius weave a lush tapestry of blackened trem-picked riffs and retro leads (“I Totem,” “Give ‘Em My Beautiful Hell”), while bassist Jim Mutilator’s (ex-Rotting Christ, ex-Varathron) presence and influence infuse every second of Gone with the Devil. Vocalist HE and drummer Bill “Vongaar” Stavrianidis have excellent synergy, driving the album’s atmosphere and the ebb and flow of its tension. These performances shine thanks to Gone with the Devil’s production. The vocals might be a smidge forward and the rhythm guitars a touch back, but the mix is both intimate and spacious, offering warmth and clarity on an open soundstage.

Sound and performance can’t save an album, though. Where once Yoth Iria demanded my attention with a unique sound, Gone with the Devil seems geared toward maximum radio engagement or being inoffensive corporate playlist fodder. During my time with the album, I often felt like I was listening to a Temu version of Havukruunu. A seemingly intentional forfeiture of individuality, vapid filler track energy,2 and uninteresting—though adeptly played—instrumental performances make Yoth Iria’s latest a far cry from their previous work. Again, Gone with the Devil isn’t a bad album per se. It’s just milquetoast and unremarkable.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites:Official | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/ie/466814/ Gus G. – Steel Burner Review #25 #2026 #Annihilator #AOR #Apr26 #Doro #DreamEvil #Éire #Entertainment #Firewind #GreekMetal #GusG #HardRock #HeavyMetal #IcedEarth #IE #Ireland #MetalDepartment #Music #MysticProphecy #Pyramaze #rainbow #Review #Reviews #SteelBurner #Warlock

Gus G. – Steel Burner Review

Gus G. is a busy man. For some odd 25 years and counting, the Greek guitarist has not…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2.5 #2026 #Annihilator #aor #Apr26 #Doro #DreamEvil #Entertainment #Firewind #GreekMetal #GusG. #HardRock #HeavyMetal #IcedEarth #MetalDepartment #MysticProphecy #Pyramaze #Rainbow #review #reviews #SteelBurner #Warlock
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/621508/

Gus G. – Steel Burner Review

Gus G. is a busy man. For some odd 25 years and counting, the Greek guitarist has not…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2.5 #2026 #Annihilator #aor #Apr26 #Doro #DreamEvil #Entertainment #Firewind #GreekMetal #GusG. #HardRock #HeavyMetal #IcedEarth #MetalDepartment #MysticProphecy #Pyramaze #Rainbow #review #reviews #SteelBurner #Warlock
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/621508/

Gus G. – Steel Burner Review

Gus G. is a busy man. For some odd 25 years and counting, the Greek guitarist has not…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #Annihilator #AOR #Apr26 #AU #Australia #Doro #DreamEvil #Entertainment #Firewind #GreekMetal #GusG. #HardRock #HeavyMetal #icedearth #MetalDepartment #MysticProphecy #Pyramaze #rainbow #review #reviews #SteelBurner #Warlock
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/647274/

Gus G. – Steel Burner Review

Gus G. is a busy man. For some odd 25 years and counting, the Greek guitarist has not…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #Annihilator #AOR #Apr26 #AU #Australia #Doro #DreamEvil #Entertainment #Firewind #GreekMetal #GusG. #HardRock #HeavyMetal #icedearth #MetalDepartment #MysticProphecy #Pyramaze #rainbow #review #reviews #SteelBurner #Warlock
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/647274/

Gus G. is a busy man. For some odd 25 years and counting, the Greek guitarist has not only been running his own band Firewind but also contributed to many notable heavy/power metal acts’ beginnings, such as early Mystic Prophecy and Dream Evil. And somehow on top of that, he’s even managed to fit in five solo albums during that time! Steel Burner becomes the sixth album under the Gus G. moniker, the first since 2021’s very fun Quantum Leap. I was a big fan of Firewind’s energetic 2020 comeback and enjoyed 2024’s anthemic rock-oriented Stand United plenty as well. How does Steel Burner compare to his other recent works, and were any Steel Druhm’s harmed in the making?1

Gus has proven himself to be a very potent guitarist since the early ’00s, and Steel Burner’s strand of heavy metal offers a good general gist of the instrumental and solo craft he’s known for. The album doesn’t steer too far off Quantum Leap’s core in this regard. Gus’s natural bend towards ’80s rock and metal shows up in full force once again, containing Yngwie and Blackmore-esque guitar hero cheese (“What If,” “Closure”) in terms of both shred and soulful play. A surprising highlight is “Advent” with its interesting djent-ish influences by way of downtuned 2010s rhythm guitar work. It pans out much better than one might think and makes for a refreshing listen in an album full of otherwise expected source material.

The other side of Steel Burner is the record’s confusing flow and identity, the guest vocalist tracks being at odds with the instrumental songs. Whereas Quantum Leap was fully instrumental, Steel Burner contains a theoretically balanced set of five tracks with vocals and five instrumentals. This intentional variety quickly ends up working against itself. Doro (Doro, ex-Warlock) and Matt Barlow (ex-Iced Earth, ex-Pyramaze) are both starting to show their age, delivering some good lines but flat choruses (“Nothing Can Break Me,” “Dancing with Death”). The suddenly enervated instrumentation exacerbates the quality contrast between Steel Burner’s different aspects. Fortunately, the back half fares better. Vocal mercenaries Ronnie Romero (ex-Rainbow) and Dino Jelusić lend stronger performances on better, more AOR-adjacent tracks (“My Premonition,” “No One Has to Know”), and I wouldn’t mind Gus working with Ronnie more often based on “My Premonition.” Aside from the vocal-instrumental clash, the drums are a sticking point. Gus’s drum programming on the aforementioned tracks is solid, but Quantum Leap’s guest drumming proves that more varied and potent percussion would have helped make these songs much more lively.

Much like Jeff Waters (Annihilator), Gus G. is an excellent guitarist who is usually better when sharing vocals-forward songwriting reins with other people. Steel Burner tends to repeat some of his early-career hiccups with Mystic Prophecy, where the rhythm guitar tends to be underdeveloped and the songs oddly stripped-down without the choruses compensating for it. Gus is very good at crafting colorful instrumental compositions (“Advent,” “Confession”) or even standard power metal tracks at higher BPMs (“Kill the Pain” on Firewind’s self-titled, “Escape from Tomorrow” all the way back on Forged by Fire), but making a ‘normal’ mid-paced track with vocals often requires some extra hands alongside him. Firewind’s two most recent records are proof of this, and the positive effect of a consistent powerhouse vocalist like Herbie Langhans is undeniably lacking here.

Steel Burner has its bright spots, but ends up feeling like two EPs in a bar fight. It mashes together parts of Quantum Leap and Stand United, and both halves unfortunately suffer as a result. While nothing on the record is strictly off-putting, the instrumental side is clearly the better and more inspired one, containing the usual guitar goodness you would expect from Gus. Even so, one listen to Quantum Leap’s title track exposes Steel Burner’s general lack of urgency compared to prior works. Grab most of the instrumental tracks and “My Premonition,” and you’ve got a solid EP! Despite the overall experience being hit-and-miss, I still respect Gus’s work ethic, and I’ll be gladly waiting to see what he comes up with next.

Rating: Mixed
DR: Nope! | Format Reviewed: Alas, poor Stream!
Label: Metal Department
Websites: gusgofficial.com | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Gus G. is a busy man. For some odd 25 years and counting, the Greek guitarist has not only been running his own band Firewind but also contributed to many notable heavy/power metal acts’ beginnings, such as early Mystic Prophecy and Dream Evil. And somehow on top of that, he’s even managed to fit in five solo albums during that time! Steel Burner becomes the sixth album under the Gus G. moniker, the first since 2021’s very fun Quantum Leap. I was a big fan of Firewind’s energetic 2020 comeback and enjoyed 2024’s anthemic rock-oriented Stand United plenty as well. How does Steel Burner compare to his other recent works, and were any Steel Druhm’s harmed in the making?1

Gus has proven himself to be a very potent guitarist since the early ’00s, and Steel Burner’s strand of heavy metal offers a good general gist of the instrumental and solo craft he’s known for. The album doesn’t steer too far off Quantum Leap’s core in this regard. Gus’s natural bend towards ’80s rock and metal shows up in full force once again, containing Yngwie and Blackmore-esque guitar hero cheese (“What If,” “Closure”) in terms of both shred and soulful play. A surprising highlight is “Advent” with its interesting djent-ish influences by way of downtuned 2010s rhythm guitar work. It pans out much better than one might think and makes for a refreshing listen in an album full of otherwise expected source material.

The other side of Steel Burner is the record’s confusing flow and identity, the guest vocalist tracks being at odds with the instrumental songs. Whereas Quantum Leap was fully instrumental, Steel Burner contains a theoretically balanced set of five tracks with vocals and five instrumentals. This intentional variety quickly ends up working against itself. Doro (Doro, ex-Warlock) and Matt Barlow (ex-Iced Earth, ex-Pyramaze) are both starting to show their age, delivering some good lines but flat choruses (“Nothing Can Break Me,” “Dancing with Death”). The suddenly enervated instrumentation exacerbates the quality contrast between Steel Burner’s different aspects. Fortunately, the back half fares better. Vocal mercenaries Ronnie Romero (ex-Rainbow) and Dino Jelusić lend stronger performances on better, more AOR-adjacent tracks (“My Premonition,” “No One Has to Know”), and I wouldn’t mind Gus working with Ronnie more often based on “My Premonition.” Aside from the vocal-instrumental clash, the drums are a sticking point. Gus’s drum programming on the aforementioned tracks is solid, but Quantum Leap’s guest drumming proves that more varied and potent percussion would have helped make these songs much more lively.

Much like Jeff Waters (Annihilator), Gus G. is an excellent guitarist who is usually better when sharing vocals-forward songwriting reins with other people. Steel Burner tends to repeat some of his early-career hiccups with Mystic Prophecy, where the rhythm guitar tends to be underdeveloped and the songs oddly stripped-down without the choruses compensating for it. Gus is very good at crafting colorful instrumental compositions (“Advent,” “Confession”) or even standard power metal tracks at higher BPMs (“Kill the Pain” on Firewind’s self-titled, “Escape from Tomorrow” all the way back on Forged by Fire), but making a ‘normal’ mid-paced track with vocals often requires some extra hands alongside him. Firewind’s two most recent records are proof of this, and the positive effect of a consistent powerhouse vocalist like Herbie Langhans is undeniably lacking here.

Steel Burner has its bright spots, but ends up feeling like two EPs in a bar fight. It mashes together parts of Quantum Leap and Stand United, and both halves unfortunately suffer as a result. While nothing on the record is strictly off-putting, the instrumental side is clearly the better and more inspired one, containing the usual guitar goodness you would expect from Gus. Even so, one listen to Quantum Leap’s title track exposes Steel Burner’s general lack of urgency compared to prior works. Grab most of the instrumental tracks and “My Premonition,” and you’ve got a solid EP! Despite the overall experience being hit-and-miss, I still respect Gus’s work ethic, and I’ll be gladly waiting to see what he comes up with next.

Rating: Mixed
DR: Nope! | Format Reviewed: Alas, poor Stream!
Label: Metal Department
Websites: gusgofficial.com | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Gus G. is a busy man. For some odd 25 years and counting, the Greek guitarist has not only been running his own band Firewind but also contributed to many notable heavy/power metal acts’ beginnings, such as early Mystic Prophecy and Dream Evil. And somehow on top of that, he’s even managed to fit in five solo albums during that time! Steel Burner becomes the sixth album under the Gus G. moniker, the first since 2021’s very fun Quantum Leap. I was a big fan of Firewind’s energetic 2020 comeback and enjoyed 2024’s anthemic rock-oriented Stand United plenty as well. How does Steel Burner compare to his other recent works, and were any Steel Druhm’s harmed in the making?1

Gus has proven himself to be a very potent guitarist since the early ’00s, and Steel Burner’s strand of heavy metal offers a good general gist of the instrumental and solo craft he’s known for. The album doesn’t steer too far off Quantum Leap’s core in this regard. Gus’s natural bend towards ’80s rock and metal shows up in full force once again, containing Yngwie and Blackmore-esque guitar hero cheese (“What If,” “Closure”) in terms of both shred and soulful play. A surprising highlight is “Advent” with its interesting djent-ish influences by way of downtuned 2010s rhythm guitar work. It pans out much better than one might think and makes for a refreshing listen in an album full of otherwise expected source material.

The other side of Steel Burner is the record’s confusing flow and identity, the guest vocalist tracks being at odds with the instrumental songs. Whereas Quantum Leap was fully instrumental, Steel Burner contains a theoretically balanced set of five tracks with vocals and five instrumentals. This intentional variety quickly ends up working against itself. Doro (Doro, ex-Warlock) and Matt Barlow (ex-Iced Earth, ex-Pyramaze) are both starting to show their age, delivering some good lines but flat choruses (“Nothing Can Break Me,” “Dancing with Death”). The suddenly enervated instrumentation exacerbates the quality contrast between Steel Burner’s different aspects. Fortunately, the back half fares better. Vocal mercenaries Ronnie Romero (ex-Rainbow) and Dino Jelusić lend stronger performances on better, more AOR-adjacent tracks (“My Premonition,” “No One Has to Know”), and I wouldn’t mind Gus working with Ronnie more often based on “My Premonition.” Aside from the vocal-instrumental clash, the drums are a sticking point. Gus’s drum programming on the aforementioned tracks is solid, but Quantum Leap’s guest drumming proves that more varied and potent percussion would have helped make these songs much more lively.

Much like Jeff Waters (Annihilator), Gus G. is an excellent guitarist who is usually better when sharing vocals-forward songwriting reins with other people. Steel Burner tends to repeat some of his early-career hiccups with Mystic Prophecy, where the rhythm guitar tends to be underdeveloped and the songs oddly stripped-down without the choruses compensating for it. Gus is very good at crafting colorful instrumental compositions (“Advent,” “Confession”) or even standard power metal tracks at higher BPMs (“Kill the Pain” on Firewind’s self-titled, “Escape from Tomorrow” all the way back on Forged by Fire), but making a ‘normal’ mid-paced track with vocals often requires some extra hands alongside him. Firewind’s two most recent records are proof of this, and the positive effect of a consistent powerhouse vocalist like Herbie Langhans is undeniably lacking here.

Steel Burner has its bright spots, but ends up feeling like two EPs in a bar fight. It mashes together parts of Quantum Leap and Stand United, and both halves unfortunately suffer as a result. While nothing on the record is strictly off-putting, the instrumental side is clearly the better and more inspired one, containing the usual guitar goodness you would expect from Gus. Even so, one listen to Quantum Leap’s title track exposes Steel Burner’s general lack of urgency compared to prior works. Grab most of the instrumental tracks and “My Premonition,” and you’ve got a solid EP! Despite the overall experience being hit-and-miss, I still respect Gus’s work ethic, and I’ll be gladly waiting to see what he comes up with next.

Rating: Mixed
DR: Nope! | Format Reviewed: Alas, poor Stream!
Label: Metal Department
Websites: gusgofficial.com | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Gus G. is a busy man. For some odd 25 years and counting, the Greek guitarist has not only been running his own band Firewind but also contributed to many notable heavy/power metal acts’ beginnings, such as early Mystic Prophecy and Dream Evil. And somehow on top of that, he’s even managed to fit in five solo albums during that time! Steel Burner becomes the sixth album under the Gus G. moniker, the first since 2021’s very fun Quantum Leap. I was a big fan of Firewind’s energetic 2020 comeback and enjoyed 2024’s anthemic rock-oriented Stand United plenty as well. How does Steel Burner compare to his other recent works, and were any Steel Druhm’s harmed in the making?1

Gus has proven himself to be a very potent guitarist since the early ’00s, and Steel Burner’s strand of heavy metal offers a good general gist of the instrumental and solo craft he’s known for. The album doesn’t steer too far off Quantum Leap’s core in this regard. Gus’s natural bend towards ’80s rock and metal shows up in full force once again, containing Yngwie and Blackmore-esque guitar hero cheese (“What If,” “Closure”) in terms of both shred and soulful play. A surprising highlight is “Advent” with its interesting djent-ish influences by way of downtuned 2010s rhythm guitar work. It pans out much better than one might think and makes for a refreshing listen in an album full of otherwise expected source material.

The other side of Steel Burner is the record’s confusing flow and identity, the guest vocalist tracks being at odds with the instrumental songs. Whereas Quantum Leap was fully instrumental, Steel Burner contains a theoretically balanced set of five tracks with vocals and five instrumentals. This intentional variety quickly ends up working against itself. Doro (Doro, ex-Warlock) and Matt Barlow (ex-Iced Earth, ex-Pyramaze) are both starting to show their age, delivering some good lines but flat choruses (“Nothing Can Break Me,” “Dancing with Death”). The suddenly enervated instrumentation exacerbates the quality contrast between Steel Burner’s different aspects. Fortunately, the back half fares better. Vocal mercenaries Ronnie Romero (ex-Rainbow) and Dino Jelusić lend stronger performances on better, more AOR-adjacent tracks (“My Premonition,” “No One Has to Know”), and I wouldn’t mind Gus working with Ronnie more often based on “My Premonition.” Aside from the vocal-instrumental clash, the drums are a sticking point. Gus’s drum programming on the aforementioned tracks is solid, but Quantum Leap’s guest drumming proves that more varied and potent percussion would have helped make these songs much more lively.

Much like Jeff Waters (Annihilator), Gus G. is an excellent guitarist who is usually better when sharing vocals-forward songwriting reins with other people. Steel Burner tends to repeat some of his early-career hiccups with Mystic Prophecy, where the rhythm guitar tends to be underdeveloped and the songs oddly stripped-down without the choruses compensating for it. Gus is very good at crafting colorful instrumental compositions (“Advent,” “Confession”) or even standard power metal tracks at higher BPMs (“Kill the Pain” on Firewind’s self-titled, “Escape from Tomorrow” all the way back on Forged by Fire), but making a ‘normal’ mid-paced track with vocals often requires some extra hands alongside him. Firewind’s two most recent records are proof of this, and the positive effect of a consistent powerhouse vocalist like Herbie Langhans is undeniably lacking here.

Steel Burner has its bright spots, but ends up feeling like two EPs in a bar fight. It mashes together parts of Quantum Leap and Stand United, and both halves unfortunately suffer as a result. While nothing on the record is strictly off-putting, the instrumental side is clearly the better and more inspired one, containing the usual guitar goodness you would expect from Gus. Even so, one listen to Quantum Leap’s title track exposes Steel Burner’s general lack of urgency compared to prior works. Grab most of the instrumental tracks and “My Premonition,” and you’ve got a solid EP! Despite the overall experience being hit-and-miss, I still respect Gus’s work ethic, and I’ll be gladly waiting to see what he comes up with next.

Rating: Mixed
DR: Nope! | Format Reviewed: Alas, poor Stream!
Label: Metal Department
Websites: gusgofficial.com | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Gus G. is a busy man. For some odd 25 years and counting, the Greek guitarist has not only been running his own band Firewind but also contributed to many notable heavy/power metal acts’ beginnings, such as early Mystic Prophecy and Dream Evil. And somehow on top of that, he’s even managed to fit in five solo albums during that time! Steel Burner becomes the sixth album under the Gus G. moniker, the first since 2021’s very fun Quantum Leap. I was a big fan of Firewind’s energetic 2020 comeback and enjoyed 2024’s anthemic rock-oriented Stand United plenty as well. How does Steel Burner compare to his other recent works, and were any Steel Druhm’s harmed in the making?1

Gus has proven himself to be a very potent guitarist since the early ’00s, and Steel Burner’s strand of heavy metal offers a good general gist of the instrumental and solo craft he’s known for. The album doesn’t steer too far off Quantum Leap’s core in this regard. Gus’s natural bend towards ’80s rock and metal shows up in full force once again, containing Yngwie and Blackmore-esque guitar hero cheese (“What If,” “Closure”) in terms of both shred and soulful play. A surprising highlight is “Advent” with its interesting djent-ish influences by way of downtuned 2010s rhythm guitar work. It pans out much better than one might think and makes for a refreshing listen in an album full of otherwise expected source material.

The other side of Steel Burner is the record’s confusing flow and identity, the guest vocalist tracks being at odds with the instrumental songs. Whereas Quantum Leap was fully instrumental, Steel Burner contains a theoretically balanced set of five tracks with vocals and five instrumentals. This intentional variety quickly ends up working against itself. Doro (Doro, ex-Warlock) and Matt Barlow (ex-Iced Earth, ex-Pyramaze) are both starting to show their age, delivering some good lines but flat choruses (“Nothing Can Break Me,” “Dancing with Death”). The suddenly enervated instrumentation exacerbates the quality contrast between Steel Burner’s different aspects. Fortunately, the back half fares better. Vocal mercenaries Ronnie Romero (ex-Rainbow) and Dino Jelusić lend stronger performances on better, more AOR-adjacent tracks (“My Premonition,” “No One Has to Know”), and I wouldn’t mind Gus working with Ronnie more often based on “My Premonition.” Aside from the vocal-instrumental clash, the drums are a sticking point. Gus’s drum programming on the aforementioned tracks is solid, but Quantum Leap’s guest drumming proves that more varied and potent percussion would have helped make these songs much more lively.

Much like Jeff Waters (Annihilator), Gus G. is an excellent guitarist who is usually better when sharing vocals-forward songwriting reins with other people. Steel Burner tends to repeat some of his early-career hiccups with Mystic Prophecy, where the rhythm guitar tends to be underdeveloped and the songs oddly stripped-down without the choruses compensating for it. Gus is very good at crafting colorful instrumental compositions (“Advent,” “Confession”) or even standard power metal tracks at higher BPMs (“Kill the Pain” on Firewind’s self-titled, “Escape from Tomorrow” all the way back on Forged by Fire), but making a ‘normal’ mid-paced track with vocals often requires some extra hands alongside him. Firewind’s two most recent records are proof of this, and the positive effect of a consistent powerhouse vocalist like Herbie Langhans is undeniably lacking here.

Steel Burner has its bright spots, but ends up feeling like two EPs in a bar fight. It mashes together parts of Quantum Leap and Stand United, and both halves unfortunately suffer as a result. While nothing on the record is strictly off-putting, the instrumental side is clearly the better and more inspired one, containing the usual guitar goodness you would expect from Gus. Even so, one listen to Quantum Leap’s title track exposes Steel Burner’s general lack of urgency compared to prior works. Grab most of the instrumental tracks and “My Premonition,” and you’ve got a solid EP! Despite the overall experience being hit-and-miss, I still respect Gus’s work ethic, and I’ll be gladly waiting to see what he comes up with next.

Rating: Mixed
DR: Nope! | Format Reviewed: Alas, poor Stream!
Label: Metal Department
Websites: gusgofficial.com | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Mystfall – Embers of a Dying World Review

Once again, I return to my roots. That opulent, gem-encrusted egg from which my metalhead nascency spawned, symphonic…
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https://www.newsbeep.com/us/535011/

Mystfall – Embers of a Dying World Review

Once again, I return to my roots. That opulent, gem-encrusted egg from which my metalhead nascency spawned, symphonic…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #3.0 #Dialith #Elvellon #EmbersofaDyingWorld #Entertainment #Epica #GreekMetal #Leaves'Eyes #Mar26 #Mystfall #Nightwish #PowerMetal #review #reviews #ScarletRecords #SymphonicMetal #SymphonicPowerMetal #Xandria
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https://www.europesays.com/uk/838573/ Mystfall – Embers of a Dying World Review #2026 #30 #Dialith #Elvellon #EmbersOfADyingWorld #Entertainment #epica #GreekMetal #Leaves'Eyes #Mar26 #music #Mystfall #Nightwish #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #ScarletRecords #SymphonicMetal #SymphonicPowerMetal #UK #UnitedKingdom #Xandria

Once again, I return to my roots. That opulent, gem-encrusted egg from which my metalhead nascency spawned, symphonic power metal. Cloaked in velvet drapery as I return to these cobbled alleys I used to haunt, those early years steeping in Nightwish, Leaves’ Eyes, Epica, and Xandria wash over me, evoking a nostalgic bliss. Enter Greece’s Mystfall and their sophomore effort Embers of a Dying World. Relatively fresh on the scene, and competing with newer champions like Elvellon or Dialith, do Mystfall have what it takes to make waves?

If nothing else, Mystfall have two big things going for them: a (relatively) meaty guitar tone and the most convincing death growls and blackened rasps in the genre right now. Thanks to a moderately-better-than-industry-standard mix and master, you can clearly hear the bass guitar thundering underneath lush strings and prominent choirs as well. These are items that countless acts in this space neglect or shortchange, but not Mystfall. Thankfully, those items don’t detract from the usual suspects. Operatic mezzo-soprano lead vocals, heavily accented; hooky verse work and soaring choruses; galloping drums and brisk pacing; rich orchestrations; the gang’s all here, and in fine form for the most part. And, in another unexpected breath of fresh air, Embers of a Dying World clocks in at a tidy 38 minutes, with the longest song just barely brushing past five minutes. It seems that on paper, Mystfall fully understood their assignment and gave me everything the world needs in a modern symphocheese record.

Embers Of A Dying World by Mystfall

In practice, Embers of a Dying World acquits itself quite nicely as well. Enlisting the help of studio bassist and harsh vocalist Stelios Varotsakis was an inspired choice, as his counterpoint on both instruments elevates everything it touches (“Embers of a Dying World,” “Fading Memories”). It is my assertion that Mystfall make him a full-fledged member of the band immediately. However, his contributions aren’t so astounding as to distract from Marialena Trikoglou’s siren song, Aris Baris’ chuggy riffs, or Dimitris Miglis’ expressive percussion. Hints of old school Epica melodies (“Crimson Dawn,” “Echoes of Arcadia”), Leaves’ Eyes/Xandria adventurism (“Whispers of the Tempest,” “Guardians of the Earth,” “Cosmic Legends”) and Nightwish double bass bounce (“Sleeper in the Abyss”) coalesce into a fun variety of moods and motifs, all smartly woven together to allow each performer their spotlight. With such a bizarrely tight runtime, Embers of a Dying World is also ridiculously easy to spin multiple times in one session, assisting greatly with long-term memorability.

Unfortunately, Mystfall still struggles to find a distinct identity in the homologous plague the symphonic power metal scene perpetuates. While crafting an enjoyable album that is undoubtedly fun and wholly engaging, its similarity to those bands that originally forged the style is undeniable and obvious. Partly due to the strict and restrictive nature of operatic singing techniques—and the physiological difficulties that committing to that style poses to the exploration of any other kind of singing—Marialena’s technically competent performance here lacks impact and power when pinned against singers who can and do work in multiple disciplines (Simone Simons, Floor Jansen, Veronica Bordacchini). On the instrumental front, Aris Baris’ riffs rarely venture outside of the conventions long upheld in this field, often allowing the orchestrations to take point when leading melodies or initiating motifs. Even the dramatic orchestrations lack the showstopping quality they could have if they were either recorded with a full orchestra or more unique in composition or arrangement.

As a result, Embers of a Dying World feels misplaced in time. Were it released in 1996 or thereabouts, it would’ve constituted an instant hit, a direct competitor to the pack leaders at the time. In 2026, it’s one in a million, albeit better made and brilliantly edited. As maligned by songwriting issues and stylistic banality as symphonic power metal often is, competing for acclaim and attention in that crowded place requires a fierce, striking showing. Mystfall have everything they need to make that showing, but Embers of a Dying World falls just short of that elusive threshold. That said, I’m impressed with it enough to wait avidly for what Mystfall might come up with next!

Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Scarlet Records
Websites: mystfallofficial.com | facebook.com/mystfallofficial
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

Once again, I return to my roots. That opulent, gem-encrusted egg from which my metalhead nascency spawned, symphonic power metal. Cloaked in velvet drapery as I return to these cobbled alleys I used to haunt, those early years steeping in Nightwish, Leaves’ Eyes, Epica, and Xandria wash over me, evoking a nostalgic bliss. Enter Greece’s Mystfall and their sophomore effort Embers of a Dying World. Relatively fresh on the scene, and competing with newer champions like Elvellon or Dialith, do Mystfall have what it takes to make waves?

If nothing else, Mystfall have two big things going for them: a (relatively) meaty guitar tone and the most convincing death growls and blackened rasps in the genre right now. Thanks to a moderately-better-than-industry-standard mix and master, you can clearly hear the bass guitar thundering underneath lush strings and prominent choirs as well. These are items that countless acts in this space neglect or shortchange, but not Mystfall. Thankfully, those items don’t detract from the usual suspects. Operatic mezzo-soprano lead vocals, heavily accented; hooky verse work and soaring choruses; galloping drums and brisk pacing; rich orchestrations; the gang’s all here, and in fine form for the most part. And, in another unexpected breath of fresh air, Embers of a Dying World clocks in at a tidy 38 minutes, with the longest song just barely brushing past five minutes. It seems that on paper, Mystfall fully understood their assignment and gave me everything the world needs in a modern symphocheese record.

Embers Of A Dying World by Mystfall

In practice, Embers of a Dying World acquits itself quite nicely as well. Enlisting the help of studio bassist and harsh vocalist Stelios Varotsakis was an inspired choice, as his counterpoint on both instruments elevates everything it touches (“Embers of a Dying World,” “Fading Memories”). It is my assertion that Mystfall make him a full-fledged member of the band immediately. However, his contributions aren’t so astounding as to distract from Marialena Trikoglou’s siren song, Aris Baris’ chuggy riffs, or Dimitris Miglis’ expressive percussion. Hints of old school Epica melodies (“Crimson Dawn,” “Echoes of Arcadia”), Leaves’ Eyes/Xandria adventurism (“Whispers of the Tempest,” “Guardians of the Earth,” “Cosmic Legends”) and Nightwish double bass bounce (“Sleeper in the Abyss”) coalesce into a fun variety of moods and motifs, all smartly woven together to allow each performer their spotlight. With such a bizarrely tight runtime, Embers of a Dying World is also ridiculously easy to spin multiple times in one session, assisting greatly with long-term memorability.

Unfortunately, Mystfall still struggles to find a distinct identity in the homologous plague the symphonic power metal scene perpetuates. While crafting an enjoyable album that is undoubtedly fun and wholly engaging, its similarity to those bands that originally forged the style is undeniable and obvious. Partly due to the strict and restrictive nature of operatic singing techniques—and the physiological difficulties that committing to that style poses to the exploration of any other kind of singing—Marialena’s technically competent performance here lacks impact and power when pinned against singers who can and do work in multiple disciplines (Simone Simons, Floor Jansen, Veronica Bordacchini). On the instrumental front, Aris Baris’ riffs rarely venture outside of the conventions long upheld in this field, often allowing the orchestrations to take point when leading melodies or initiating motifs. Even the dramatic orchestrations lack the showstopping quality they could have if they were either recorded with a full orchestra or more unique in composition or arrangement.

As a result, Embers of a Dying World feels misplaced in time. Were it released in 1996 or thereabouts, it would’ve constituted an instant hit, a direct competitor to the pack leaders at the time. In 2026, it’s one in a million, albeit better made and brilliantly edited. As maligned by songwriting issues and stylistic banality as symphonic power metal often is, competing for acclaim and attention in that crowded place requires a fierce, striking showing. Mystfall have everything they need to make that showing, but Embers of a Dying World falls just short of that elusive threshold. That said, I’m impressed with it enough to wait avidly for what Mystfall might come up with next!

Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Scarlet Records
Websites: mystfallofficial.com | facebook.com/mystfallofficial
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

Once again, I return to my roots. That opulent, gem-encrusted egg from which my metalhead nascency spawned, symphonic power metal. Cloaked in velvet drapery as I return to these cobbled alleys I used to haunt, those early years steeping in Nightwish, Leaves’ Eyes, Epica, and Xandria wash over me, evoking a nostalgic bliss. Enter Greece’s Mystfall and their sophomore effort Embers of a Dying World. Relatively fresh on the scene, and competing with newer champions like Elvellon or Dialith, do Mystfall have what it takes to make waves?

If nothing else, Mystfall have two big things going for them: a (relatively) meaty guitar tone and the most convincing death growls and blackened rasps in the genre right now. Thanks to a moderately-better-than-industry-standard mix and master, you can clearly hear the bass guitar thundering underneath lush strings and prominent choirs as well. These are items that countless acts in this space neglect or shortchange, but not Mystfall. Thankfully, those items don’t detract from the usual suspects. Operatic mezzo-soprano lead vocals, heavily accented; hooky verse work and soaring choruses; galloping drums and brisk pacing; rich orchestrations; the gang’s all here, and in fine form for the most part. And, in another unexpected breath of fresh air, Embers of a Dying World clocks in at a tidy 38 minutes, with the longest song just barely brushing past five minutes. It seems that on paper, Mystfall fully understood their assignment and gave me everything the world needs in a modern symphocheese record.

Embers Of A Dying World by Mystfall

In practice, Embers of a Dying World acquits itself quite nicely as well. Enlisting the help of studio bassist and harsh vocalist Stelios Varotsakis was an inspired choice, as his counterpoint on both instruments elevates everything it touches (“Embers of a Dying World,” “Fading Memories”). It is my assertion that Mystfall make him a full-fledged member of the band immediately. However, his contributions aren’t so astounding as to distract from Marialena Trikoglou’s siren song, Aris Baris’ chuggy riffs, or Dimitris Miglis’ expressive percussion. Hints of old school Epica melodies (“Crimson Dawn,” “Echoes of Arcadia”), Leaves’ Eyes/Xandria adventurism (“Whispers of the Tempest,” “Guardians of the Earth,” “Cosmic Legends”) and Nightwish double bass bounce (“Sleeper in the Abyss”) coalesce into a fun variety of moods and motifs, all smartly woven together to allow each performer their spotlight. With such a bizarrely tight runtime, Embers of a Dying World is also ridiculously easy to spin multiple times in one session, assisting greatly with long-term memorability.

Unfortunately, Mystfall still struggles to find a distinct identity in the homologous plague the symphonic power metal scene perpetuates. While crafting an enjoyable album that is undoubtedly fun and wholly engaging, its similarity to those bands that originally forged the style is undeniable and obvious. Partly due to the strict and restrictive nature of operatic singing techniques—and the physiological difficulties that committing to that style poses to the exploration of any other kind of singing—Marialena’s technically competent performance here lacks impact and power when pinned against singers who can and do work in multiple disciplines (Simone Simons, Floor Jansen, Veronica Bordacchini). On the instrumental front, Aris Baris’ riffs rarely venture outside of the conventions long upheld in this field, often allowing the orchestrations to take point when leading melodies or initiating motifs. Even the dramatic orchestrations lack the showstopping quality they could have if they were either recorded with a full orchestra or more unique in composition or arrangement.

As a result, Embers of a Dying World feels misplaced in time. Were it released in 1996 or thereabouts, it would’ve constituted an instant hit, a direct competitor to the pack leaders at the time. In 2026, it’s one in a million, albeit better made and brilliantly edited. As maligned by songwriting issues and stylistic banality as symphonic power metal often is, competing for acclaim and attention in that crowded place requires a fierce, striking showing. Mystfall have everything they need to make that showing, but Embers of a Dying World falls just short of that elusive threshold. That said, I’m impressed with it enough to wait avidly for what Mystfall might come up with next!

Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Scarlet Records
Websites: mystfallofficial.com | facebook.com/mystfallofficial
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

Once again, I return to my roots. That opulent, gem-encrusted egg from which my metalhead nascency spawned, symphonic power metal. Cloaked in velvet drapery as I return to these cobbled alleys I used to haunt, those early years steeping in Nightwish, Leaves’ Eyes, Epica, and Xandria wash over me, evoking a nostalgic bliss. Enter Greece’s Mystfall and their sophomore effort Embers of a Dying World. Relatively fresh on the scene, and competing with newer champions like Elvellon or Dialith, do Mystfall have what it takes to make waves?

If nothing else, Mystfall have two big things going for them: a (relatively) meaty guitar tone and the most convincing death growls and blackened rasps in the genre right now. Thanks to a moderately-better-than-industry-standard mix and master, you can clearly hear the bass guitar thundering underneath lush strings and prominent choirs as well. These are items that countless acts in this space neglect or shortchange, but not Mystfall. Thankfully, those items don’t detract from the usual suspects. Operatic mezzo-soprano lead vocals, heavily accented; hooky verse work and soaring choruses; galloping drums and brisk pacing; rich orchestrations; the gang’s all here, and in fine form for the most part. And, in another unexpected breath of fresh air, Embers of a Dying World clocks in at a tidy 38 minutes, with the longest song just barely brushing past five minutes. It seems that on paper, Mystfall fully understood their assignment and gave me everything the world needs in a modern symphocheese record.

Embers Of A Dying World by Mystfall

In practice, Embers of a Dying World acquits itself quite nicely as well. Enlisting the help of studio bassist and harsh vocalist Stelios Varotsakis was an inspired choice, as his counterpoint on both instruments elevates everything it touches (“Embers of a Dying World,” “Fading Memories”). It is my assertion that Mystfall make him a full-fledged member of the band immediately. However, his contributions aren’t so astounding as to distract from Marialena Trikoglou’s siren song, Aris Baris’ chuggy riffs, or Dimitris Miglis’ expressive percussion. Hints of old school Epica melodies (“Crimson Dawn,” “Echoes of Arcadia”), Leaves’ Eyes/Xandria adventurism (“Whispers of the Tempest,” “Guardians of the Earth,” “Cosmic Legends”) and Nightwish double bass bounce (“Sleeper in the Abyss”) coalesce into a fun variety of moods and motifs, all smartly woven together to allow each performer their spotlight. With such a bizarrely tight runtime, Embers of a Dying World is also ridiculously easy to spin multiple times in one session, assisting greatly with long-term memorability.

Unfortunately, Mystfall still struggles to find a distinct identity in the homologous plague the symphonic power metal scene perpetuates. While crafting an enjoyable album that is undoubtedly fun and wholly engaging, its similarity to those bands that originally forged the style is undeniable and obvious. Partly due to the strict and restrictive nature of operatic singing techniques—and the physiological difficulties that committing to that style poses to the exploration of any other kind of singing—Marialena’s technically competent performance here lacks impact and power when pinned against singers who can and do work in multiple disciplines (Simone Simons, Floor Jansen, Veronica Bordacchini). On the instrumental front, Aris Baris’ riffs rarely venture outside of the conventions long upheld in this field, often allowing the orchestrations to take point when leading melodies or initiating motifs. Even the dramatic orchestrations lack the showstopping quality they could have if they were either recorded with a full orchestra or more unique in composition or arrangement.

As a result, Embers of a Dying World feels misplaced in time. Were it released in 1996 or thereabouts, it would’ve constituted an instant hit, a direct competitor to the pack leaders at the time. In 2026, it’s one in a million, albeit better made and brilliantly edited. As maligned by songwriting issues and stylistic banality as symphonic power metal often is, competing for acclaim and attention in that crowded place requires a fierce, striking showing. Mystfall have everything they need to make that showing, but Embers of a Dying World falls just short of that elusive threshold. That said, I’m impressed with it enough to wait avidly for what Mystfall might come up with next!

Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Scarlet Records
Websites: mystfallofficial.com | facebook.com/mystfallofficial
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

Once again, I return to my roots. That opulent, gem-encrusted egg from which my metalhead nascency spawned, symphonic power metal. Cloaked in velvet drapery as I return to these cobbled alleys I used to haunt, those early years steeping in Nightwish, Leaves’ Eyes, Epica, and Xandria wash over me, evoking a nostalgic bliss. Enter Greece’s Mystfall and their sophomore effort Embers of a Dying World. Relatively fresh on the scene, and competing with newer champions like Elvellon or Dialith, do Mystfall have what it takes to make waves?

If nothing else, Mystfall have two big things going for them: a (relatively) meaty guitar tone and the most convincing death growls and blackened rasps in the genre right now. Thanks to a moderately-better-than-industry-standard mix and master, you can clearly hear the bass guitar thundering underneath lush strings and prominent choirs as well. These are items that countless acts in this space neglect or shortchange, but not Mystfall. Thankfully, those items don’t detract from the usual suspects. Operatic mezzo-soprano lead vocals, heavily accented; hooky verse work and soaring choruses; galloping drums and brisk pacing; rich orchestrations; the gang’s all here, and in fine form for the most part. And, in another unexpected breath of fresh air, Embers of a Dying World clocks in at a tidy 38 minutes, with the longest song just barely brushing past five minutes. It seems that on paper, Mystfall fully understood their assignment and gave me everything the world needs in a modern symphocheese record.

Embers Of A Dying World by Mystfall

In practice, Embers of a Dying World acquits itself quite nicely as well. Enlisting the help of studio bassist and harsh vocalist Stelios Varotsakis was an inspired choice, as his counterpoint on both instruments elevates everything it touches (“Embers of a Dying World,” “Fading Memories”). It is my assertion that Mystfall make him a full-fledged member of the band immediately. However, his contributions aren’t so astounding as to distract from Marialena Trikoglou’s siren song, Aris Baris’ chuggy riffs, or Dimitris Miglis’ expressive percussion. Hints of old school Epica melodies (“Crimson Dawn,” “Echoes of Arcadia”), Leaves’ Eyes/Xandria adventurism (“Whispers of the Tempest,” “Guardians of the Earth,” “Cosmic Legends”) and Nightwish double bass bounce (“Sleeper in the Abyss”) coalesce into a fun variety of moods and motifs, all smartly woven together to allow each performer their spotlight. With such a bizarrely tight runtime, Embers of a Dying World is also ridiculously easy to spin multiple times in one session, assisting greatly with long-term memorability.

Unfortunately, Mystfall still struggles to find a distinct identity in the homologous plague the symphonic power metal scene perpetuates. While crafting an enjoyable album that is undoubtedly fun and wholly engaging, its similarity to those bands that originally forged the style is undeniable and obvious. Partly due to the strict and restrictive nature of operatic singing techniques—and the physiological difficulties that committing to that style poses to the exploration of any other kind of singing—Marialena’s technically competent performance here lacks impact and power when pinned against singers who can and do work in multiple disciplines (Simone Simons, Floor Jansen, Veronica Bordacchini). On the instrumental front, Aris Baris’ riffs rarely venture outside of the conventions long upheld in this field, often allowing the orchestrations to take point when leading melodies or initiating motifs. Even the dramatic orchestrations lack the showstopping quality they could have if they were either recorded with a full orchestra or more unique in composition or arrangement.

As a result, Embers of a Dying World feels misplaced in time. Were it released in 1996 or thereabouts, it would’ve constituted an instant hit, a direct competitor to the pack leaders at the time. In 2026, it’s one in a million, albeit better made and brilliantly edited. As maligned by songwriting issues and stylistic banality as symphonic power metal often is, competing for acclaim and attention in that crowded place requires a fierce, striking showing. Mystfall have everything they need to make that showing, but Embers of a Dying World falls just short of that elusive threshold. That said, I’m impressed with it enough to wait avidly for what Mystfall might come up with next!

Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Scarlet Records
Websites: mystfallofficial.com | facebook.com/mystfallofficial
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 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

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

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

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

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

Decipher – ΘΕΛΗΜΑ (Thelema) Review

It’s not often I underrate something, but if there were ever a legitimate example, it might be my…
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It’s not often I underrate something, but if there were ever a legitimate example, it might be my review of Arcane Paths to Resurrection, the debut from Greek black metal trio Decipher. Upon revisiting it recently, I experienced newfound intense appreciation for their slightly crusty melodic black metal, and this all stemmed from my initial spins of sophomore ΘΕΛΗΜΑ.1 Not overly atmospheric, not supremely dissonant or integrated into death metal, nor straightforwardly raw and aggressive, Decipher maintain a style in Thelema that’s as subtly intriguing and melodic as it is punchy and to-the-point. The word Thelema means will2 and while there’s no lyric sheet or storytelling in promo material to elucidate the concept, the snatches of audible references to Satan, and the generally extreme, yet anthemic vibe of the music broadcast defiant rebellion and the burden of being, which suit that word well.

Decipher’s sound is broadly the same as on Arcane Paths, a Watain-meets-Dissection viciousness tempered—if you can call it that—by a darker, eerier side that pulls more from Icelandic acts like Svartidauði. Whilst remaining committed to frequent use of group-chanted and screamed vocal lines and plenty of recognisably malicious blackened riffery, Thelema sees the band experiment a little more. While not meandering—with the possible exception of “Bound to the Wheel”—songs spread their themes into more variations (“The Black March,” “Towards Renaissance”) or uncanny soloing, whilst rhythms shift more often, and build tension for longer before unravelling and transforming. The barely five minutes added is enough for the compositions to have more presence, whether with energetic malevolence (“Return to Naught,” “Seven Scars”) or ominous finality (“Liturgy”). Skirting the precipice that would see a descent into atmo-black, there’s a relaxation and a layering to the melodic lines that deepens and darkens the sound.

ΘΕΛΗΜΑ (Thelema) by DECIPHER

Thelema demonstrates that Decipher’s command of rhythm, melody, and grit has only gotten better, as it compels with the joint force of hookiness and evil. Using recurring patterns of riff, vocals, and percussion that each cue one another, Decipher create a thrashing feeling of push-and-pull that’s downright magnetic. A group wail precipitating a gnarly descending arpeggio (“Seven Scars”); the way a guitar clambers up and down to the precise beat of the drums (“Return to Naught,” “Hail Death”). These manifest organically out of existing tempos—blast beat (“Seven Scars”), march (“The Black March”), or shuffling skitter (“Towards Renaissance”) alike, making the shifts seamless and the identity consistent. Perhaps this is black metal that’s not unusual on paper, but adorned with Decipher’s now recognisable bright yet sinister melodies, and continually layered vocals, it sounds freshly thrilling. The tingles that go down my spine when I hear the first riff on opener “Return to Naught,” the solo that ends “The Black March,” and the overlaid cries and urgent tremolo of “Litany” have not yet failed to materialise.

Thelema’s enjoyability and power over its listener is also bolstered by Decipher’s additional refinements in areas not lacking before. By severing any instrumental interlude or protracted intro, the energy—however it transforms—and momentum are maintained, and the album has a more robust through-line. Rhythmic and thematic shifts flex and emerge variously with emphasis and mournful or spiteful intensity. The wails are just as agonised and chest-emptying in the latter half as they are in the first. Decipher’s production has also expanded to accommodate their slightly more nuanced and exploratory sound. Thelema sports a roomy mix that keeps the interspersed vocal and guitar lines, and the proudly beating drums and crashing cymbals equally audible and striking.

I recall bemoaning a lack of zhuzh in Arcane Paths and, whether or not I still consider that justified, it definitely wouldn’t be here. For all the new layers and senses of intrigue, Thelema remains a black metal album with standout moments that threaten to overshadow and desaturate the more standard fare, and may strike some harder than others. It yet undeniably shows Decipher carving out a decisive space for themselves that adumbrates a dark, delicious presence. Thelema stands one step behind the inexorability that confers greatness in its sphere. But it’s a small step.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

It’s not often I underrate something, but if there were ever a legitimate example, it might be my review of Arcane Paths to Resurrection, the debut from Greek black metal trio Decipher. Upon revisiting it recently, I experienced newfound intense appreciation for their slightly crusty melodic black metal, and this all stemmed from my initial spins of sophomore ΘΕΛΗΜΑ.1 Not overly atmospheric, not supremely dissonant or integrated into death metal, nor straightforwardly raw and aggressive, Decipher maintain a style in Thelema that’s as subtly intriguing and melodic as it is punchy and to-the-point. The word Thelema means will2 and while there’s no lyric sheet or storytelling in promo material to elucidate the concept, the snatches of audible references to Satan, and the generally extreme, yet anthemic vibe of the music broadcast defiant rebellion and the burden of being, which suit that word well.

Decipher’s sound is broadly the same as on Arcane Paths, a Watain-meets-Dissection viciousness tempered—if you can call it that—by a darker, eerier side that pulls more from Icelandic acts like Svartidauði. Whilst remaining committed to frequent use of group-chanted and screamed vocal lines and plenty of recognisably malicious blackened riffery, Thelema sees the band experiment a little more. While not meandering—with the possible exception of “Bound to the Wheel”—songs spread their themes into more variations (“The Black March,” “Towards Renaissance”) or uncanny soloing, whilst rhythms shift more often, and build tension for longer before unravelling and transforming. The barely five minutes added is enough for the compositions to have more presence, whether with energetic malevolence (“Return to Naught,” “Seven Scars”) or ominous finality (“Liturgy”). Skirting the precipice that would see a descent into atmo-black, there’s a relaxation and a layering to the melodic lines that deepens and darkens the sound.

ΘΕΛΗΜΑ (Thelema) by DECIPHER

Thelema demonstrates that Decipher’s command of rhythm, melody, and grit has only gotten better, as it compels with the joint force of hookiness and evil. Using recurring patterns of riff, vocals, and percussion that each cue one another, Decipher create a thrashing feeling of push-and-pull that’s downright magnetic. A group wail precipitating a gnarly descending arpeggio (“Seven Scars”); the way a guitar clambers up and down to the precise beat of the drums (“Return to Naught,” “Hail Death”). These manifest organically out of existing tempos—blast beat (“Seven Scars”), march (“The Black March”), or shuffling skitter (“Towards Renaissance”) alike, making the shifts seamless and the identity consistent. Perhaps this is black metal that’s not unusual on paper, but adorned with Decipher’s now recognisable bright yet sinister melodies, and continually layered vocals, it sounds freshly thrilling. The tingles that go down my spine when I hear the first riff on opener “Return to Naught,” the solo that ends “The Black March,” and the overlaid cries and urgent tremolo of “Litany” have not yet failed to materialise.

Thelema’s enjoyability and power over its listener is also bolstered by Decipher’s additional refinements in areas not lacking before. By severing any instrumental interlude or protracted intro, the energy—however it transforms—and momentum are maintained, and the album has a more robust through-line. Rhythmic and thematic shifts flex and emerge variously with emphasis and mournful or spiteful intensity. The wails are just as agonised and chest-emptying in the latter half as they are in the first. Decipher’s production has also expanded to accommodate their slightly more nuanced and exploratory sound. Thelema sports a roomy mix that keeps the interspersed vocal and guitar lines, and the proudly beating drums and crashing cymbals equally audible and striking.

I recall bemoaning a lack of zhuzh in Arcane Paths and, whether or not I still consider that justified, it definitely wouldn’t be here. For all the new layers and senses of intrigue, Thelema remains a black metal album with standout moments that threaten to overshadow and desaturate the more standard fare, and may strike some harder than others. It yet undeniably shows Decipher carving out a decisive space for themselves that adumbrates a dark, delicious presence. Thelema stands one step behind the inexorability that confers greatness in its sphere. But it’s a small step.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

It’s not often I underrate something, but if there were ever a legitimate example, it might be my review of Arcane Paths to Resurrection, the debut from Greek black metal trio Decipher. Upon revisiting it recently, I experienced newfound intense appreciation for their slightly crusty melodic black metal, and this all stemmed from my initial spins of sophomore ΘΕΛΗΜΑ.1 Not overly atmospheric, not supremely dissonant or integrated into death metal, nor straightforwardly raw and aggressive, Decipher maintain a style in Thelema that’s as subtly intriguing and melodic as it is punchy and to-the-point. The word Thelema means will2 and while there’s no lyric sheet or storytelling in promo material to elucidate the concept, the snatches of audible references to Satan, and the generally extreme, yet anthemic vibe of the music broadcast defiant rebellion and the burden of being, which suit that word well.

Decipher’s sound is broadly the same as on Arcane Paths, a Watain-meets-Dissection viciousness tempered—if you can call it that—by a darker, eerier side that pulls more from Icelandic acts like Svartidauði. Whilst remaining committed to frequent use of group-chanted and screamed vocal lines and plenty of recognisably malicious blackened riffery, Thelema sees the band experiment a little more. While not meandering—with the possible exception of “Bound to the Wheel”—songs spread their themes into more variations (“The Black March,” “Towards Renaissance”) or uncanny soloing, whilst rhythms shift more often, and build tension for longer before unravelling and transforming. The barely five minutes added is enough for the compositions to have more presence, whether with energetic malevolence (“Return to Naught,” “Seven Scars”) or ominous finality (“Liturgy”). Skirting the precipice that would see a descent into atmo-black, there’s a relaxation and a layering to the melodic lines that deepens and darkens the sound.

ΘΕΛΗΜΑ (Thelema) by DECIPHER

Thelema demonstrates that Decipher’s command of rhythm, melody, and grit has only gotten better, as it compels with the joint force of hookiness and evil. Using recurring patterns of riff, vocals, and percussion that each cue one another, Decipher create a thrashing feeling of push-and-pull that’s downright magnetic. A group wail precipitating a gnarly descending arpeggio (“Seven Scars”); the way a guitar clambers up and down to the precise beat of the drums (“Return to Naught,” “Hail Death”). These manifest organically out of existing tempos—blast beat (“Seven Scars”), march (“The Black March”), or shuffling skitter (“Towards Renaissance”) alike, making the shifts seamless and the identity consistent. Perhaps this is black metal that’s not unusual on paper, but adorned with Decipher’s now recognisable bright yet sinister melodies, and continually layered vocals, it sounds freshly thrilling. The tingles that go down my spine when I hear the first riff on opener “Return to Naught,” the solo that ends “The Black March,” and the overlaid cries and urgent tremolo of “Litany” have not yet failed to materialise.

Thelema’s enjoyability and power over its listener is also bolstered by Decipher’s additional refinements in areas not lacking before. By severing any instrumental interlude or protracted intro, the energy—however it transforms—and momentum are maintained, and the album has a more robust through-line. Rhythmic and thematic shifts flex and emerge variously with emphasis and mournful or spiteful intensity. The wails are just as agonised and chest-emptying in the latter half as they are in the first. Decipher’s production has also expanded to accommodate their slightly more nuanced and exploratory sound. Thelema sports a roomy mix that keeps the interspersed vocal and guitar lines, and the proudly beating drums and crashing cymbals equally audible and striking.

I recall bemoaning a lack of zhuzh in Arcane Paths and, whether or not I still consider that justified, it definitely wouldn’t be here. For all the new layers and senses of intrigue, Thelema remains a black metal album with standout moments that threaten to overshadow and desaturate the more standard fare, and may strike some harder than others. It yet undeniably shows Decipher carving out a decisive space for themselves that adumbrates a dark, delicious presence. Thelema stands one step behind the inexorability that confers greatness in its sphere. But it’s a small step.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

It’s not often I underrate something, but if there were ever a legitimate example, it might be my review of Arcane Paths to Resurrection, the debut from Greek black metal trio Decipher. Upon revisiting it recently, I experienced newfound intense appreciation for their slightly crusty melodic black metal, and this all stemmed from my initial spins of sophomore ΘΕΛΗΜΑ.1 Not overly atmospheric, not supremely dissonant or integrated into death metal, nor straightforwardly raw and aggressive, Decipher maintain a style in Thelema that’s as subtly intriguing and melodic as it is punchy and to-the-point. The word Thelema means will2 and while there’s no lyric sheet or storytelling in promo material to elucidate the concept, the snatches of audible references to Satan, and the generally extreme, yet anthemic vibe of the music broadcast defiant rebellion and the burden of being, which suit that word well.

Decipher’s sound is broadly the same as on Arcane Paths, a Watain-meets-Dissection viciousness tempered—if you can call it that—by a darker, eerier side that pulls more from Icelandic acts like Svartidauði. Whilst remaining committed to frequent use of group-chanted and screamed vocal lines and plenty of recognisably malicious blackened riffery, Thelema sees the band experiment a little more. While not meandering—with the possible exception of “Bound to the Wheel”—songs spread their themes into more variations (“The Black March,” “Towards Renaissance”) or uncanny soloing, whilst rhythms shift more often, and build tension for longer before unravelling and transforming. The barely five minutes added is enough for the compositions to have more presence, whether with energetic malevolence (“Return to Naught,” “Seven Scars”) or ominous finality (“Liturgy”). Skirting the precipice that would see a descent into atmo-black, there’s a relaxation and a layering to the melodic lines that deepens and darkens the sound.

ΘΕΛΗΜΑ (Thelema) by DECIPHER

Thelema demonstrates that Decipher’s command of rhythm, melody, and grit has only gotten better, as it compels with the joint force of hookiness and evil. Using recurring patterns of riff, vocals, and percussion that each cue one another, Decipher create a thrashing feeling of push-and-pull that’s downright magnetic. A group wail precipitating a gnarly descending arpeggio (“Seven Scars”); the way a guitar clambers up and down to the precise beat of the drums (“Return to Naught,” “Hail Death”). These manifest organically out of existing tempos—blast beat (“Seven Scars”), march (“The Black March”), or shuffling skitter (“Towards Renaissance”) alike, making the shifts seamless and the identity consistent. Perhaps this is black metal that’s not unusual on paper, but adorned with Decipher’s now recognisable bright yet sinister melodies, and continually layered vocals, it sounds freshly thrilling. The tingles that go down my spine when I hear the first riff on opener “Return to Naught,” the solo that ends “The Black March,” and the overlaid cries and urgent tremolo of “Litany” have not yet failed to materialise.

Thelema’s enjoyability and power over its listener is also bolstered by Decipher’s additional refinements in areas not lacking before. By severing any instrumental interlude or protracted intro, the energy—however it transforms—and momentum are maintained, and the album has a more robust through-line. Rhythmic and thematic shifts flex and emerge variously with emphasis and mournful or spiteful intensity. The wails are just as agonised and chest-emptying in the latter half as they are in the first. Decipher’s production has also expanded to accommodate their slightly more nuanced and exploratory sound. Thelema sports a roomy mix that keeps the interspersed vocal and guitar lines, and the proudly beating drums and crashing cymbals equally audible and striking.

I recall bemoaning a lack of zhuzh in Arcane Paths and, whether or not I still consider that justified, it definitely wouldn’t be here. For all the new layers and senses of intrigue, Thelema remains a black metal album with standout moments that threaten to overshadow and desaturate the more standard fare, and may strike some harder than others. It yet undeniably shows Decipher carving out a decisive space for themselves that adumbrates a dark, delicious presence. Thelema stands one step behind the inexorability that confers greatness in its sphere. But it’s a small step.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

It’s not often I underrate something, but if there were ever a legitimate example, it might be my review of Arcane Paths to Resurrection, the debut from Greek black metal trio Decipher. Upon revisiting it recently, I experienced newfound intense appreciation for their slightly crusty melodic black metal, and this all stemmed from my initial spins of sophomore ΘΕΛΗΜΑ.1 Not overly atmospheric, not supremely dissonant or integrated into death metal, nor straightforwardly raw and aggressive, Decipher maintain a style in Thelema that’s as subtly intriguing and melodic as it is punchy and to-the-point. The word Thelema means will2 and while there’s no lyric sheet or storytelling in promo material to elucidate the concept, the snatches of audible references to Satan, and the generally extreme, yet anthemic vibe of the music broadcast defiant rebellion and the burden of being, which suit that word well.

Decipher’s sound is broadly the same as on Arcane Paths, a Watain-meets-Dissection viciousness tempered—if you can call it that—by a darker, eerier side that pulls more from Icelandic acts like Svartidauði. Whilst remaining committed to frequent use of group-chanted and screamed vocal lines and plenty of recognisably malicious blackened riffery, Thelema sees the band experiment a little more. While not meandering—with the possible exception of “Bound to the Wheel”—songs spread their themes into more variations (“The Black March,” “Towards Renaissance”) or uncanny soloing, whilst rhythms shift more often, and build tension for longer before unravelling and transforming. The barely five minutes added is enough for the compositions to have more presence, whether with energetic malevolence (“Return to Naught,” “Seven Scars”) or ominous finality (“Liturgy”). Skirting the precipice that would see a descent into atmo-black, there’s a relaxation and a layering to the melodic lines that deepens and darkens the sound.

ΘΕΛΗΜΑ (Thelema) by DECIPHER

Thelema demonstrates that Decipher’s command of rhythm, melody, and grit has only gotten better, as it compels with the joint force of hookiness and evil. Using recurring patterns of riff, vocals, and percussion that each cue one another, Decipher create a thrashing feeling of push-and-pull that’s downright magnetic. A group wail precipitating a gnarly descending arpeggio (“Seven Scars”); the way a guitar clambers up and down to the precise beat of the drums (“Return to Naught,” “Hail Death”). These manifest organically out of existing tempos—blast beat (“Seven Scars”), march (“The Black March”), or shuffling skitter (“Towards Renaissance”) alike, making the shifts seamless and the identity consistent. Perhaps this is black metal that’s not unusual on paper, but adorned with Decipher’s now recognisable bright yet sinister melodies, and continually layered vocals, it sounds freshly thrilling. The tingles that go down my spine when I hear the first riff on opener “Return to Naught,” the solo that ends “The Black March,” and the overlaid cries and urgent tremolo of “Litany” have not yet failed to materialise.

Thelema’s enjoyability and power over its listener is also bolstered by Decipher’s additional refinements in areas not lacking before. By severing any instrumental interlude or protracted intro, the energy—however it transforms—and momentum are maintained, and the album has a more robust through-line. Rhythmic and thematic shifts flex and emerge variously with emphasis and mournful or spiteful intensity. The wails are just as agonised and chest-emptying in the latter half as they are in the first. Decipher’s production has also expanded to accommodate their slightly more nuanced and exploratory sound. Thelema sports a roomy mix that keeps the interspersed vocal and guitar lines, and the proudly beating drums and crashing cymbals equally audible and striking.

I recall bemoaning a lack of zhuzh in Arcane Paths and, whether or not I still consider that justified, it definitely wouldn’t be here. For all the new layers and senses of intrigue, Thelema remains a black metal album with standout moments that threaten to overshadow and desaturate the more standard fare, and may strike some harder than others. It yet undeniably shows Decipher carving out a decisive space for themselves that adumbrates a dark, delicious presence. Thelema stands one step behind the inexorability that confers greatness in its sphere. But it’s a small step.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/ie/387092/ Winter Eternal – Unveiled Nightsky Review #25 #2026 #ancient #BlackMetal #Dissection #Éire #Entertainment #Feb26 #GreekMetal #HellsHeadbangers #IE #Ireland #MelodicBlackMetal #Music #OldMan'sChild #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Thulcandra #UnveiledNightsky #WinterEternal

Winter Eternal – Unveiled Nightsky Review

Less than two years removed from Winter Eternal’s last album, the Greek transplant (now based in Scotland) returns…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #ancient #BlackMetal #Dissection #Entertainment #Feb26 #GreekMetal #HellsHeadbangers #MelodicBlackMetal #OldMan'sChild #review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Thulcandra #UK #UnitedKingdom #UnveiledNightsky #WinterEternal
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/477090/

https://www.europesays.com/uk/827566/ Winter Eternal – Unveiled Nightsky Review #25 #2026 #ancient #BlackMetal #Dissection #Entertainment #Feb26 #GreekMetal #HellsHeadbangers #MelodicBlackMetal #music #OldMan'sChild #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Thulcandra #UK #UnitedKingdom #UnveiledNightsky #WinterEternal

Charm is a powerful drug. At the farthest extremes, charm can alter my perception at a fundamental level, warping what might otherwise be boring, unreliable, or even downright problematic things into something worth defending or even loving. But when it comes to music, charm—in measured doses, of course—allows me to fully enjoy the good in something flawed. This is what ultimately drew me to Greek doom startups Distorted Reflection in 2024, and now again in 2026.

2024’s Doom Rules Eternally introduced founding member Kostas Salodmidis’ new project to the world and established Distorted Reflection’s core of doom. Combining Candlemass riffs with Sorcerer drama and a touch of Sorrows Path shred, that core carries over unchanged into Doom Zone. Kostas’ beefy riffs and screaming solos remain as present as ever, and so does his shaky baritone croon. Vangelis gains greater presence with his bass here, which is a welcome improvement over the debut, burbling in lockstep with riffs and offering counterpoint during solo breaks. Filling out the lineup, Thomas Zen pounds the skins with a swinging stomp that suits this doom-laden material like a fitted suit, classy and reigned into the pocket at all times. It might not be the most exciting or unique formula, but it works.

Unfortunately, Doom Zone lacks the one thing that made Doom Rules Eternally worth covering: charm. Doom Zone isn’t completely soulless, but its flaws dominate my experience, leaving very little room for Distorted Reflection’s earnest delivery and competent riffcraft to shine. Evident from the onset of opener “3000 A.D.” and unrelenting throughout the runtime, Kostas’ vocals conspire to distract and detract at almost every opportunity. Unstable vibrato, strained upper range1, abysmal growls and repetitive melodic phrasing make tracks like “My Second Father,” “Gates of Paranoia,” “Tower of Dreams,” and “Morbid Reality” difficult to enjoy. Doom Zone’s songwriting is also noticeably weaker, suffering from a deeply repetitive structure and monotonous pacing that inevitably stalls any momentum individual elements (riffs, solos, choruses) initiate (“Asphyxiation,” “The Final Attempt”). It’s a good thing, then, that Doom Zone is short, clocking in at a responsible 39 minutes. Even so, it drags such that I routinely check my playback to see if I’m close to the end.

This is a shame, because Distorted Reflection are gifted musicians with great potential. Kostas filled Doom Zone with an arsenal of chunky riffs and high-octane solos (“3000 A.D.,” “Certain Death,” “Diminished,” “Morbid Reality”), many of which aptly reference the great works of the doom metal scene, though perhaps a bit too closely. Zen’s drumming is a perfect fit for this sound as well, and Vangelis’ bass noodling is a delight to hear with such clarity. More importantly, everybody understands their role and can play their instruments well enough to attract the spotlight without having to force it away from someone else. The overarching problem ultimately lies in the songwriting. With the exception of a few solid tracks at the album’s midpoint, like “Diminished,” Doom Zone wholly lacks the dynamics, the creativity, and the voice it needs to succeed.

Charm can go a long way to make me like something I would otherwise pass up. Distorted Reflection almost instantaneously lost the charm they once had after my time with Doom Zone. Unmemorable, uninspired, and at times downright irritating, Doom Zone fails to exhibit Distorted Reflection’s strengths in a way that overshadows their flaws. Instead, it accomplished the inverse. Flaws glare, making the process of picking out highlights a grind, and the experience of enjoying the good a chore. I still have hope that they can turn it around with album three, but as it stands, my recommendation is to leave Doom Zone behind while you traverse the doom zone.



Rating: Bad
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Iron Shield Records
Websites: distortedreflectiondoom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/distortedreflectiondoom
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Charm is a powerful drug. At the farthest extremes, charm can alter my perception at a fundamental level, warping what might otherwise be boring, unreliable, or even downright problematic things into something worth defending or even loving. But when it comes to music, charm—in measured doses, of course—allows me to fully enjoy the good in something flawed. This is what ultimately drew me to Greek doom startups Distorted Reflection in 2024, and now again in 2026.

2024’s Doom Rules Eternally introduced founding member Kostas Salodmidis’ new project to the world and established Distorted Reflection’s core of doom. Combining Candlemass riffs with Sorcerer drama and a touch of Sorrows Path shred, that core carries over unchanged into Doom Zone. Kostas’ beefy riffs and screaming solos remain as present as ever, and so does his shaky baritone croon. Vangelis gains greater presence with his bass here, which is a welcome improvement over the debut, burbling in lockstep with riffs and offering counterpoint during solo breaks. Filling out the lineup, Thomas Zen pounds the skins with a swinging stomp that suits this doom-laden material like a fitted suit, classy and reigned into the pocket at all times. It might not be the most exciting or unique formula, but it works.

Unfortunately, Doom Zone lacks the one thing that made Doom Rules Eternally worth covering: charm. Doom Zone isn’t completely soulless, but its flaws dominate my experience, leaving very little room for Distorted Reflection’s earnest delivery and competent riffcraft to shine. Evident from the onset of opener “3000 A.D.” and unrelenting throughout the runtime, Kostas’ vocals conspire to distract and detract at almost every opportunity. Unstable vibrato, strained upper range1, abysmal growls and repetitive melodic phrasing make tracks like “My Second Father,” “Gates of Paranoia,” “Tower of Dreams,” and “Morbid Reality” difficult to enjoy. Doom Zone’s songwriting is also noticeably weaker, suffering from a deeply repetitive structure and monotonous pacing that inevitably stalls any momentum individual elements (riffs, solos, choruses) initiate (“Asphyxiation,” “The Final Attempt”). It’s a good thing, then, that Doom Zone is short, clocking in at a responsible 39 minutes. Even so, it drags such that I routinely check my playback to see if I’m close to the end.

This is a shame, because Distorted Reflection are gifted musicians with great potential. Kostas filled Doom Zone with an arsenal of chunky riffs and high-octane solos (“3000 A.D.,” “Certain Death,” “Diminished,” “Morbid Reality”), many of which aptly reference the great works of the doom metal scene, though perhaps a bit too closely. Zen’s drumming is a perfect fit for this sound as well, and Vangelis’ bass noodling is a delight to hear with such clarity. More importantly, everybody understands their role and can play their instruments well enough to attract the spotlight without having to force it away from someone else. The overarching problem ultimately lies in the songwriting. With the exception of a few solid tracks at the album’s midpoint, like “Diminished,” Doom Zone wholly lacks the dynamics, the creativity, and the voice it needs to succeed.

Charm can go a long way to make me like something I would otherwise pass up. Distorted Reflection almost instantaneously lost the charm they once had after my time with Doom Zone. Unmemorable, uninspired, and at times downright irritating, Doom Zone fails to exhibit Distorted Reflection’s strengths in a way that overshadows their flaws. Instead, it accomplished the inverse. Flaws glare, making the process of picking out highlights a grind, and the experience of enjoying the good a chore. I still have hope that they can turn it around with album three, but as it stands, my recommendation is to leave Doom Zone behind while you traverse the doom zone.



Rating: Bad
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Iron Shield Records
Websites: distortedreflectiondoom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/distortedreflectiondoom
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Charm is a powerful drug. At the farthest extremes, charm can alter my perception at a fundamental level, warping what might otherwise be boring, unreliable, or even downright problematic things into something worth defending or even loving. But when it comes to music, charm—in measured doses, of course—allows me to fully enjoy the good in something flawed. This is what ultimately drew me to Greek doom startups Distorted Reflection in 2024, and now again in 2026.

2024’s Doom Rules Eternally introduced founding member Kostas Salodmidis’ new project to the world and established Distorted Reflection’s core of doom. Combining Candlemass riffs with Sorcerer drama and a touch of Sorrows Path shred, that core carries over unchanged into Doom Zone. Kostas’ beefy riffs and screaming solos remain as present as ever, and so does his shaky baritone croon. Vangelis gains greater presence with his bass here, which is a welcome improvement over the debut, burbling in lockstep with riffs and offering counterpoint during solo breaks. Filling out the lineup, Thomas Zen pounds the skins with a swinging stomp that suits this doom-laden material like a fitted suit, classy and reigned into the pocket at all times. It might not be the most exciting or unique formula, but it works.

Unfortunately, Doom Zone lacks the one thing that made Doom Rules Eternally worth covering: charm. Doom Zone isn’t completely soulless, but its flaws dominate my experience, leaving very little room for Distorted Reflection’s earnest delivery and competent riffcraft to shine. Evident from the onset of opener “3000 A.D.” and unrelenting throughout the runtime, Kostas’ vocals conspire to distract and detract at almost every opportunity. Unstable vibrato, strained upper range1, abysmal growls and repetitive melodic phrasing make tracks like “My Second Father,” “Gates of Paranoia,” “Tower of Dreams,” and “Morbid Reality” difficult to enjoy. Doom Zone’s songwriting is also noticeably weaker, suffering from a deeply repetitive structure and monotonous pacing that inevitably stalls any momentum individual elements (riffs, solos, choruses) initiate (“Asphyxiation,” “The Final Attempt”). It’s a good thing, then, that Doom Zone is short, clocking in at a responsible 39 minutes. Even so, it drags such that I routinely check my playback to see if I’m close to the end.

This is a shame, because Distorted Reflection are gifted musicians with great potential. Kostas filled Doom Zone with an arsenal of chunky riffs and high-octane solos (“3000 A.D.,” “Certain Death,” “Diminished,” “Morbid Reality”), many of which aptly reference the great works of the doom metal scene, though perhaps a bit too closely. Zen’s drumming is a perfect fit for this sound as well, and Vangelis’ bass noodling is a delight to hear with such clarity. More importantly, everybody understands their role and can play their instruments well enough to attract the spotlight without having to force it away from someone else. The overarching problem ultimately lies in the songwriting. With the exception of a few solid tracks at the album’s midpoint, like “Diminished,” Doom Zone wholly lacks the dynamics, the creativity, and the voice it needs to succeed.

Charm can go a long way to make me like something I would otherwise pass up. Distorted Reflection almost instantaneously lost the charm they once had after my time with Doom Zone. Unmemorable, uninspired, and at times downright irritating, Doom Zone fails to exhibit Distorted Reflection’s strengths in a way that overshadows their flaws. Instead, it accomplished the inverse. Flaws glare, making the process of picking out highlights a grind, and the experience of enjoying the good a chore. I still have hope that they can turn it around with album three, but as it stands, my recommendation is to leave Doom Zone behind while you traverse the doom zone.



Rating: Bad
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Iron Shield Records
Websites: distortedreflectiondoom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/distortedreflectiondoom
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Charm is a powerful drug. At the farthest extremes, charm can alter my perception at a fundamental level, warping what might otherwise be boring, unreliable, or even downright problematic things into something worth defending or even loving. But when it comes to music, charm—in measured doses, of course—allows me to fully enjoy the good in something flawed. This is what ultimately drew me to Greek doom startups Distorted Reflection in 2024, and now again in 2026.

2024’s Doom Rules Eternally introduced founding member Kostas Salodmidis’ new project to the world and established Distorted Reflection’s core of doom. Combining Candlemass riffs with Sorcerer drama and a touch of Sorrows Path shred, that core carries over unchanged into Doom Zone. Kostas’ beefy riffs and screaming solos remain as present as ever, and so does his shaky baritone croon. Vangelis gains greater presence with his bass here, which is a welcome improvement over the debut, burbling in lockstep with riffs and offering counterpoint during solo breaks. Filling out the lineup, Thomas Zen pounds the skins with a swinging stomp that suits this doom-laden material like a fitted suit, classy and reigned into the pocket at all times. It might not be the most exciting or unique formula, but it works.

Unfortunately, Doom Zone lacks the one thing that made Doom Rules Eternally worth covering: charm. Doom Zone isn’t completely soulless, but its flaws dominate my experience, leaving very little room for Distorted Reflection’s earnest delivery and competent riffcraft to shine. Evident from the onset of opener “3000 A.D.” and unrelenting throughout the runtime, Kostas’ vocals conspire to distract and detract at almost every opportunity. Unstable vibrato, strained upper range1, abysmal growls and repetitive melodic phrasing make tracks like “My Second Father,” “Gates of Paranoia,” “Tower of Dreams,” and “Morbid Reality” difficult to enjoy. Doom Zone’s songwriting is also noticeably weaker, suffering from a deeply repetitive structure and monotonous pacing that inevitably stalls any momentum individual elements (riffs, solos, choruses) initiate (“Asphyxiation,” “The Final Attempt”). It’s a good thing, then, that Doom Zone is short, clocking in at a responsible 39 minutes. Even so, it drags such that I routinely check my playback to see if I’m close to the end.

This is a shame, because Distorted Reflection are gifted musicians with great potential. Kostas filled Doom Zone with an arsenal of chunky riffs and high-octane solos (“3000 A.D.,” “Certain Death,” “Diminished,” “Morbid Reality”), many of which aptly reference the great works of the doom metal scene, though perhaps a bit too closely. Zen’s drumming is a perfect fit for this sound as well, and Vangelis’ bass noodling is a delight to hear with such clarity. More importantly, everybody understands their role and can play their instruments well enough to attract the spotlight without having to force it away from someone else. The overarching problem ultimately lies in the songwriting. With the exception of a few solid tracks at the album’s midpoint, like “Diminished,” Doom Zone wholly lacks the dynamics, the creativity, and the voice it needs to succeed.

Charm can go a long way to make me like something I would otherwise pass up. Distorted Reflection almost instantaneously lost the charm they once had after my time with Doom Zone. Unmemorable, uninspired, and at times downright irritating, Doom Zone fails to exhibit Distorted Reflection’s strengths in a way that overshadows their flaws. Instead, it accomplished the inverse. Flaws glare, making the process of picking out highlights a grind, and the experience of enjoying the good a chore. I still have hope that they can turn it around with album three, but as it stands, my recommendation is to leave Doom Zone behind while you traverse the doom zone.



Rating: Bad
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Iron Shield Records
Websites: distortedreflectiondoom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/distortedreflectiondoom
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026