#incantation — Public Fediverse posts

Since the last Filter dropped, it still hasn’t stopped raining and storming in my neck of the woods. Consequently, my minions trudge evermore through the thin sheet metal of our ducts as the thunder rattles everything like so many dice in a tabletop nerd’s clutches.1 Yet I must press them and push them, for we have quotas to meet and ravenous appetites to sate.

So it is with shaky hands and discombobulated craniums that my grunts hand over the goods. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Thrashed Thrall

Ascended Master // Crepuscular Gloom [May 8th, 2026 – Self Released]

Death thrash is best thrash, if you ask this sponge. Something about this unholy combo really rustles my jimmies, especially when its executed with great speed and riff-centered fervor. Cincinnati’s Ascended Master nail that combination right into the grave, boasting a sound that’s three parts Death, one part Atheist, and a pinch of Blood Red Throne. With a sense of groove that gives barnburners “Blood Spilled Upon the Stars,” “Crepuscular Gloom,” and rabid closer “Xenopaleontology” a deadly swagger liable to cause fierce whiplash in all who would headbang to it, debut LP Crepuscular Gloom” is a record pumped full of testosterone and adrenaline. Speedy rippers like “Midnight Mother” and “Ghoul Queen” put the pedal to the metal with a ferocity more commonly associated with Kvaen or Hellripper in the modern pantheon, but the record’s natural engineering and coherent screams hark to earlier times where Death reigned supreme in the scene. However, it would be inaccurate to call it pure worship. Ascended Master have an intense personality and a particular ferocity that allows Crepuscular Gloom to integrate smoothly into their respective category without blending into the crowd. As their career develops from this point, I expect we’ll see their identity bloom and rise with greater distinction, further setting them apart and threatening year-end lists all around. Just wait, you’ll see!

ClarkKent’s Prehistoric Pulls

Ilienses Tree // Toward the Storm [May 1st, 2026 – Meuse Music Records]

Ilienses Tree sow their roots deep into the island the band originates from—Sardinia, just off the coast of Italy. Their name, Ilienses, refers to an ancient Nuragic civilization that, during the Bronze Age, built impressive stone tower structures that still stand today. While the band isn’t nearly so old, their second album, Toward the Storm, dabbles in the sort of slow, deliberate doom that speaks of the patience of those ancient ruins. They lean towards a style of funeral doom that has the brutal power of My Dying Bride, but their record also contains the unpredictable dynamic drumming of Oromet and sneaks into speedier death/doom territory akin to Paradise Lost and Novembers Doom. Ilienses Tree have a mastery over melancholic lead riffs, such as the one that opens “To Not Be Forgotten.” “Sudden Rain” flexes the band’s creative muscle most impressively. Beginning in a slow burn and anchored by a poignant guitar lead, the song has a sudden burst of energy, turns in a lovely duet between arpeggiated riffs and bass, and features several more memorable and distinct guitar leads. Though the songs average nine minutes, they fit neatly into a 38-minute record, and thanks to progressive structures, they never feel overlong. If you’d like some music that simultaneously hits you in the feels and provides a shot of adrenaline, then go towards, not away from, this storm.

Anna Fiori // Metztli [May 21st, 2026 – Self Released]

Sometimes symphonic metal bands grow a touch stale from a failure to innovate, relying too heavily on the gimmick of symphonic instruments. Anna Fiori, however, has created something pretty special, with a Mexican/Aztec twist on the genre. Her band mixes “pre-Hispanic instrumentation” with cinematic symphonics and heavy guitars to create thrilling high-energy music. While some songs hit a more poppy Beyond the Black mold (“En El Vacio”), others take a longer-form route. The nine-minute “Luna Llena (Xiki Noeso)” blends indigenous chants and flutes with orchestral elements that sometimes sound like an exciting score to a whimsical adventure film. The highlight, “Luna Menguante (Nimotemak),” contains a mix of cool riffs, flutes, and blast beats before taking us on a bonkers ride involving operatic singing, off-kilter pianos, a few solos, and perhaps the summoning of a demon or two. While the song compositions are tons of fun, Fiori’s performance ties it all together. She sings in the sweet poppy manner of Epica’s Simone Simons, the operatic style of many a Therion singer, and even some growls in the spirit of Seven Spires’s Adrienne Cowen, if not quite her power. Fiori even briefly raps on a couple of tracks, with a pretty impressive section on the outro track, “Tetzahuitl, Pt. 2: El Origen,” and goes off-script with an infectious laugh on “Entre Mil Voces.” Clearly she’s having a lot of fun. Metztli hits some of the familiar symphonic notes while injecting enough personality of its own to make for an entertaining, and sometimes wild, ride.

Grin Reaper’s Spring Fling

Beyond the Veil // Oblivion [May 1st, 2026 – Wormholedeath Records]

There’s little online information about Tokyo prog metallers Beyond the Veil,2 and while I don’t recall how I stumbled across debut Oblivion, I’m glad I did. Upon listening, I was immediately enamored by their familiar yet enchanting blend of drama and technicality. Fans of Opeth and Dream Theater will uncover a trove of unapologetic prog where Beyond the Veil weaves gorgeously conceived instrumentation into intricate compositions. Oblivion also embraces long-form arrangements, sporting six tracks ranging between seven-and-a-half and sixteen minutes each. Credit to Beyond the Veil, though, because even with such robust runtimes totaling over an hour, Oblivion never feels repetitive or bankrupt of ideas. Quite the opposite, in fact, as each listen reveals new knots to untangle and coils to unwind. Perhaps the facet I’ve come to appreciate the most as I revisit Oblivion is Beyond the Veil’s merger of piano, mellotron, and orchestrations with guitar, bass, and drums. They’re hardly the first band to do this, but each song sounds well-attuned to incorporating the right instrument for the right part rather than spotlighting heavy-handed wankery, allowing Oblivion to soar. While Beyond the Veil doesn’t break the mold with this one, getting lost in Oblivion never sounded so sweet.

Lago // Vigil [May 8th, 2026 – Everlasting Spew Records]

Vigil introduced me to Lago and their infectiously abrasive death metal, and this album is forty-two minutes of unhinged brutality flecked with melody. The blood of Immolation, Morbid Angel, and Incantation pumps through Lago’s veins, delivering unapologetic tangles of dissonant, jangling guitars, fuming blast beats, and murky bass runs beneath Cole Jacobsen’s devilishly demented gutturals. Lago’s brew is potent stuff, swirling and churning with caustic acid that will leave your eardrums scarred and cowed with nary a moment wasted. Complimenting the devastating filth Lago dredges is Gus Barr’s warbling lead guitar, which cuts through the grime with off-kilter shredding. “Behold, Ruin” and “Initiation Rite” hit with the immediacy and aplomb of Immolation, lurching onwards with Brian Miller’s timekeeping straight out of Close to a World Below’s playbook. Meanwhile, “Procession into Slaughter” and “The Land Was a Desert” launch into Azagthoth-tinged, otherworldly riffs. Everything about Lago screams danger, yet once the blood starts flowing it’s impossible to turn away from their murderously addictive violence. Once Vigil has its hooks in you, you won’t want them to Lago.

Redshift // Down the Wire [May 29th, 2026 – Pale Wizard Records]

As a massive Rush fan, Redshift’s Down the Wire immediately caught my attention with ample parallels. A power trio wielding buttery smooth bass lines, Lifeson-leaning chords, and Tiago Martins’ tender tenor call to mind Canada’s greatest export for all the right reasons. Yet Bath, England’s Redshift is more than a Rush clone, and on Down the Wire they bounce and whip in syncopated flurries and chromatic runs while dabbling with vocoded vocals and deathly roars. As the best prog does, Redshift explores vast territory in a commensurately brief runtime. Opener “The Routine” hits the Rush influence hard and early, but “The Clown” draws upon Synchestra-era Devin Townsend kookiness while “The Rogue” dabbles in Yesified eclecticism and even features guest keys from Derek Sherinian (ex-Dream Theater, ex-Yngwie Malmsteen). One thing Redshift steers away from is the self-seriousness associated with a lot of prog, and Down the Wire radiates a pervasive sense of fun. Trumpets and samba-coded melodies enliven “The Rogue” while “The Singer” assaults with fierce growls, wicked solos, and perfectly balanced instrumental interplay. Down the Wire fires on all cylinders, scorching with progressive songwriting and so much replayability that I regret not getting the chance to write a review in full. If you’re Down to the Wire and need a prog fix quickly, Redshift is a clever choice that won’t disappoint.

Spicie Forrest’s Nostalgic Nugget

Haste the Day // Dissenter [May 1st, 2026 – Solid State Records]

I haven’t heard the name Haste the Day since 2008. At the time, I was on the tail end of my metalcore phase and pushing into heavier styles, so while I recognized their quality, I didn’t latch on to them as I did other acts of their ilk. It’s a shame, because Dissenter is the sound of my adolescence. Slinging the same emo-flavored metalcore as early As I Lay Dying and August Burns Red, the Indianapolis-based six-piece offers 39 minutes of beautifully aching nostalgia. Stephen Keech’s lead vocals sound pushed and strained (complimentary), evoking the emotion of early Linkin Park (“Shallows,” “Grave”). Guitarists Scott Whelan, Brennan Chaulk, and Dave Krysl are so in sync, delivering stellar layered riffs and leads felt in the soul (“Burn”). When Michael Murphy’s bass comes to the fore, as on “Liminal,” he brings a heaviness and intensity that hurtles me back to middle school like it was just yesterday. Dissenter is a bit heavier and faster on the front end, but even the not-quite-overwrought power ballads of the back half maintain their drive and pacing thanks to Giuseppe Capolupo’s kit work (“Adrift,” “Escape”). For those of us who cut our teeth on acts like Haste the Day, late-career and comeback albums can be an anxious affair, but I’m happy to report that Dissenter is a worthy walk down memory lane.

Since the last Filter dropped, it still hasn’t stopped raining and storming in my neck of the woods. Consequently, my minions trudge evermore through the thin sheet metal of our ducts as the thunder rattles everything like so many dice in a tabletop nerd’s clutches.1 Yet I must press them and push them, for we have quotas to meet and ravenous appetites to sate.

So it is with shaky hands and discombobulated craniums that my grunts hand over the goods. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Thrashed Thrall

Ascended Master // Crepuscular Gloom [May 8th, 2026 – Self Released]

Death thrash is best thrash, if you ask this sponge. Something about this unholy combo really rustles my jimmies, especially when its executed with great speed and riff-centered fervor. Cincinnati’s Ascended Master nail that combination right into the grave, boasting a sound that’s three parts Death, one part Atheist, and a pinch of Blood Red Throne. With a sense of groove that gives barnburners “Blood Spilled Upon the Stars,” “Crepuscular Gloom,” and rabid closer “Xenopaleontology” a deadly swagger liable to cause fierce whiplash in all who would headbang to it, debut LP Crepuscular Gloom” is a record pumped full of testosterone and adrenaline. Speedy rippers like “Midnight Mother” and “Ghoul Queen” put the pedal to the metal with a ferocity more commonly associated with Kvaen or Hellripper in the modern pantheon, but the record’s natural engineering and coherent screams hark to earlier times where Death reigned supreme in the scene. However, it would be inaccurate to call it pure worship. Ascended Master have an intense personality and a particular ferocity that allows Crepuscular Gloom to integrate smoothly into their respective category without blending into the crowd. As their career develops from this point, I expect we’ll see their identity bloom and rise with greater distinction, further setting them apart and threatening year-end lists all around. Just wait, you’ll see!

ClarkKent’s Prehistoric Pulls

Ilienses Tree // Toward the Storm [May 1st, 2026 – Meuse Music Records]

Ilienses Tree sow their roots deep into the island the band originates from—Sardinia, just off the coast of Italy. Their name, Ilienses, refers to an ancient Nuragic civilization that, during the Bronze Age, built impressive stone tower structures that still stand today. While the band isn’t nearly so old, their second album, Toward the Storm, dabbles in the sort of slow, deliberate doom that speaks of the patience of those ancient ruins. They lean towards a style of funeral doom that has the brutal power of My Dying Bride, but their record also contains the unpredictable dynamic drumming of Oromet and sneaks into speedier death/doom territory akin to Paradise Lost and Novembers Doom. Ilienses Tree have a mastery over melancholic lead riffs, such as the one that opens “To Not Be Forgotten.” “Sudden Rain” flexes the band’s creative muscle most impressively. Beginning in a slow burn and anchored by a poignant guitar lead, the song has a sudden burst of energy, turns in a lovely duet between arpeggiated riffs and bass, and features several more memorable and distinct guitar leads. Though the songs average nine minutes, they fit neatly into a 38-minute record, and thanks to progressive structures, they never feel overlong. If you’d like some music that simultaneously hits you in the feels and provides a shot of adrenaline, then go towards, not away from, this storm.

Anna Fiori // Metztli [May 21st, 2026 – Self Released]

Sometimes symphonic metal bands grow a touch stale from a failure to innovate, relying too heavily on the gimmick of symphonic instruments. Anna Fiori, however, has created something pretty special, with a Mexican/Aztec twist on the genre. Her band mixes “pre-Hispanic instrumentation” with cinematic symphonics and heavy guitars to create thrilling high-energy music. While some songs hit a more poppy Beyond the Black mold (“En El Vacio”), others take a longer-form route. The nine-minute “Luna Llena (Xiki Noeso)” blends indigenous chants and flutes with orchestral elements that sometimes sound like an exciting score to a whimsical adventure film. The highlight, “Luna Menguante (Nimotemak),” contains a mix of cool riffs, flutes, and blast beats before taking us on a bonkers ride involving operatic singing, off-kilter pianos, a few solos, and perhaps the summoning of a demon or two. While the song compositions are tons of fun, Fiori’s performance ties it all together. She sings in the sweet poppy manner of Epica’s Simone Simons, the operatic style of many a Therion singer, and even some growls in the spirit of Seven Spires’s Adrienne Cowen, if not quite her power. Fiori even briefly raps on a couple of tracks, with a pretty impressive section on the outro track, “Tetzahuitl, Pt. 2: El Origen,” and goes off-script with an infectious laugh on “Entre Mil Voces.” Clearly she’s having a lot of fun. Metztli hits some of the familiar symphonic notes while injecting enough personality of its own to make for an entertaining, and sometimes wild, ride.

Grin Reaper’s Spring Fling

Beyond the Veil // Oblivion [May 1st, 2026 – Wormholedeath Records]

There’s little online information about Tokyo prog metallers Beyond the Veil,2 and while I don’t recall how I stumbled across debut Oblivion, I’m glad I did. Upon listening, I was immediately enamored by their familiar yet enchanting blend of drama and technicality. Fans of Opeth and Dream Theater will uncover a trove of unapologetic prog where Beyond the Veil weaves gorgeously conceived instrumentation into intricate compositions. Oblivion also embraces long-form arrangements, sporting six tracks ranging between seven-and-a-half and sixteen minutes each. Credit to Beyond the Veil, though, because even with such robust runtimes totaling over an hour, Oblivion never feels repetitive or bankrupt of ideas. Quite the opposite, in fact, as each listen reveals new knots to untangle and coils to unwind. Perhaps the facet I’ve come to appreciate the most as I revisit Oblivion is Beyond the Veil’s merger of piano, mellotron, and orchestrations with guitar, bass, and drums. They’re hardly the first band to do this, but each song sounds well-attuned to incorporating the right instrument for the right part rather than spotlighting heavy-handed wankery, allowing Oblivion to soar. While Beyond the Veil doesn’t break the mold with this one, getting lost in Oblivion never sounded so sweet.

Lago // Vigil [May 8th, 2026 – Everlasting Spew Records]

Vigil introduced me to Lago and their infectiously abrasive death metal, and this album is forty-two minutes of unhinged brutality flecked with melody. The blood of Immolation, Morbid Angel, and Incantation pumps through Lago’s veins, delivering unapologetic tangles of dissonant, jangling guitars, fuming blast beats, and murky bass runs beneath Cole Jacobsen’s devilishly demented gutturals. Lago’s brew is potent stuff, swirling and churning with caustic acid that will leave your eardrums scarred and cowed with nary a moment wasted. Complimenting the devastating filth Lago dredges is Gus Barr’s warbling lead guitar, which cuts through the grime with off-kilter shredding. “Behold, Ruin” and “Initiation Rite” hit with the immediacy and aplomb of Immolation, lurching onwards with Brian Miller’s timekeeping straight out of Close to a World Below’s playbook. Meanwhile, “Procession into Slaughter” and “The Land Was a Desert” launch into Azagthoth-tinged, otherworldly riffs. Everything about Lago screams danger, yet once the blood starts flowing it’s impossible to turn away from their murderously addictive violence. Once Vigil has its hooks in you, you won’t want them to Lago.

Redshift // Down the Wire [May 29th, 2026 – Pale Wizard Records]

As a massive Rush fan, Redshift’s Down the Wire immediately caught my attention with ample parallels. A power trio wielding buttery smooth bass lines, Lifeson-leaning chords, and Tiago Martins’ tender tenor call to mind Canada’s greatest export for all the right reasons. Yet Bath, England’s Redshift is more than a Rush clone, and on Down the Wire they bounce and whip in syncopated flurries and chromatic runs while dabbling with vocoded vocals and deathly roars. As the best prog does, Redshift explores vast territory in a commensurately brief runtime. Opener “The Routine” hits the Rush influence hard and early, but “The Clown” draws upon Synchestra-era Devin Townsend kookiness while “The Rogue” dabbles in Yesified eclecticism and even features guest keys from Derek Sherinian (ex-Dream Theater, ex-Yngwie Malmsteen). One thing Redshift steers away from is the self-seriousness associated with a lot of prog, and Down the Wire radiates a pervasive sense of fun. Trumpets and samba-coded melodies enliven “The Rogue” while “The Singer” assaults with fierce growls, wicked solos, and perfectly balanced instrumental interplay. Down the Wire fires on all cylinders, scorching with progressive songwriting and so much replayability that I regret not getting the chance to write a review in full. If you’re Down to the Wire and need a prog fix quickly, Redshift is a clever choice that won’t disappoint.

Spicie Forrest’s Nostalgic Nugget

Haste the Day // Dissenter [May 1st, 2026 – Solid State Records]

I haven’t heard the name Haste the Day since 2008. At the time, I was on the tail end of my metalcore phase and pushing into heavier styles, so while I recognized their quality, I didn’t latch on to them as I did other acts of their ilk. It’s a shame, because Dissenter is the sound of my adolescence. Slinging the same emo-flavored metalcore as early As I Lay Dying and August Burns Red, the Indianapolis-based six-piece offers 39 minutes of beautifully aching nostalgia. Stephen Keech’s lead vocals sound pushed and strained (complimentary), evoking the emotion of early Linkin Park (“Shallows,” “Grave”). Guitarists Scott Whelan, Brennan Chaulk, and Dave Krysl are so in sync, delivering stellar layered riffs and leads felt in the soul (“Burn”). When Michael Murphy’s bass comes to the fore, as on “Liminal,” he brings a heaviness and intensity that hurtles me back to middle school like it was just yesterday. Dissenter is a bit heavier and faster on the front end, but even the not-quite-overwrought power ballads of the back half maintain their drive and pacing thanks to Giuseppe Capolupo’s kit work (“Adrift,” “Escape”). For those of us who cut our teeth on acts like Haste the Day, late-career and comeback albums can be an anxious affair, but I’m happy to report that Dissenter is a worthy walk down memory lane.

As I snatch their sophomore, Monument aux morts from the jaws of the dormant Shark, the irony of reviewing an act called Viande1 as a vegan is not lost on me. Fortunately, the meat they’re serving is of the metaphorical kind—brutal, nasty, chewy. After L’Abime dévore les âmes saw all souls eaten, a Monument to the dead comes in comiseration castigation for the misstep into that abyss. At first blush, Monument aux morts seems to follow also in its predecessor’s grimy doom-death-black stylistic tracks; but there’s more to the descent this time. Coming four years since Viande first crawled out of the earth, can it strike the death blow its predecessor narrowly missed?

Monument aux morts changes little about Viande’s culinary style, continuing to draw heavily from the Incantation school of death metal, though now with more prominent disorienting flourishes that vividly recall Thantifaxath (“Sacrifice Ardent,” “L’homme Brasier”). The atmospheric side leans closer to that of Praise the Plague—grand and menacing—on the slower end (“Linceul Immense,” “Une cage d’os”), and Ultha on the faster—vocals excepted—(“Germes de mort”). Together, these create a darker and more dissonant offering which in turn makes the omnipresent echo and whines of feedback that bleed tracks together feel even more smothering. Dense and heavy at fast as well as moderated tempos, Monument aux morts succeeds in creating a persistent aura of horror even as it wavers before the threshold of total envelopment.

Viande’s ability to unsettle has improved, thanks to deeper, more nuanced compositions. Guitars snake ominously and twist themselves into ever more gut-wrenching patterns (“Sacrifice ardent,” “Germes de mort,” “L’homme brasier”), whilst tremolos also slip more often into an eerie shiver (“Linceul immense”). The pervasive atmosphere uses reverb intelligently, without detracting from each song’s momentum, and often pulls in the horrifying sounds of screams (“Sacrifice ardent”) and strange synthetic whines (“L’esprit cachot”). Malevolent minor melody bleeds in as a short-lived, swaying foothold in the mire (“Une cage d’os”) of churning scales or feedback. Amidst the chaos, oddly compelling grooves take hold (“Linceul Immense,” “Cercueil de vase”). The culmination of these aspects is a consistently frightening texture, which peaks when it all combines to form thrilling, even darkly beautiful, shapes that step outside of a clear (sub-)genre boundary. At these times, Monument aux morts ceases to be merely a punishing, dirt-choked slab of blackened death-doom,2, but a consuming miasma of discordant scales and impossible drums (“Sacrifice ardent,” “L’homme brasier”), or a rippling, oddly mesmerising chasm driven deeper through layers of rhythm and almost-melody (“Monolithe de chagrin,” “L’esprit cachot”).

And yet, Monument aux morts fails to maintain the vice grip on the listener it periodically holds. This is partly down to production that’s fittingly crushing and filth-encrusted for the album’s brutal death leanings, but thereby flattens the more prominent atmospheric side. Aside from above-noted highlights, and the odd sharp turns into the unusual, the majority of Monument aux morts’ eight movements progress along the same lines. The shared components—lurching from resonant tremolos into gallops, retreats to minimalistic whining and half-present drums, recurrent sludgy stomping—are effective in themselves. The issue comes with their repetition across a runtime that approaches an hour, where overlapping song transitions cause things to blur still further into an indistinct mass.

Viande are getting closer to the masterwork of horror they suggest they’re capable of. Despite being longer, Monument aux morts holds a more commanding presence than their debut and the germs of dark brilliance have grown to larger aspects that are truly gripping when they take over. All that remains is for Viande to stitch them together and give them the richer master their depths deserve.

Rating: Good
DR: 63 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 31st, 2026

As I snatch their sophomore, Monument aux morts from the jaws of the dormant Shark, the irony of reviewing an act called Viande1 as a vegan is not lost on me. Fortunately, the meat they’re serving is of the metaphorical kind—brutal, nasty, chewy. After L’Abime dévore les âmes saw all souls eaten, a Monument to the dead comes in comiseration castigation for the misstep into that abyss. At first blush, Monument aux morts seems to follow also in its predecessor’s grimy doom-death-black stylistic tracks; but there’s more to the descent this time. Coming four years since Viande first crawled out of the earth, can it strike the death blow its predecessor narrowly missed?

Monument aux morts changes little about Viande’s culinary style, continuing to draw heavily from the Incantation school of death metal, though now with more prominent disorienting flourishes that vividly recall Thantifaxath (“Sacrifice Ardent,” “L’homme Brasier”). The atmospheric side leans closer to that of Praise the Plague—grand and menacing—on the slower end (“Linceul Immense,” “Une cage d’os”), and Ultha on the faster—vocals excepted—(“Germes de mort”). Together, these create a darker and more dissonant offering which in turn makes the omnipresent echo and whines of feedback that bleed tracks together feel even more smothering. Dense and heavy at fast as well as moderated tempos, Monument aux morts succeeds in creating a persistent aura of horror even as it wavers before the threshold of total envelopment.

Viande’s ability to unsettle has improved, thanks to deeper, more nuanced compositions. Guitars snake ominously and twist themselves into ever more gut-wrenching patterns (“Sacrifice ardent,” “Germes de mort,” “L’homme brasier”), whilst tremolos also slip more often into an eerie shiver (“Linceul immense”). The pervasive atmosphere uses reverb intelligently, without detracting from each song’s momentum, and often pulls in the horrifying sounds of screams (“Sacrifice ardent”) and strange synthetic whines (“L’esprit cachot”). Malevolent minor melody bleeds in as a short-lived, swaying foothold in the mire (“Une cage d’os”) of churning scales or feedback. Amidst the chaos, oddly compelling grooves take hold (“Linceul Immense,” “Cercueil de vase”). The culmination of these aspects is a consistently frightening texture, which peaks when it all combines to form thrilling, even darkly beautiful, shapes that step outside of a clear (sub-)genre boundary. At these times, Monument aux morts ceases to be merely a punishing, dirt-choked slab of blackened death-doom,2, but a consuming miasma of discordant scales and impossible drums (“Sacrifice ardent,” “L’homme brasier”), or a rippling, oddly mesmerising chasm driven deeper through layers of rhythm and almost-melody (“Monolithe de chagrin,” “L’esprit cachot”).

And yet, Monument aux morts fails to maintain the vice grip on the listener it periodically holds. This is partly down to production that’s fittingly crushing and filth-encrusted for the album’s brutal death leanings, but thereby flattens the more prominent atmospheric side. Aside from above-noted highlights, and the odd sharp turns into the unusual, the majority of Monument aux morts’ eight movements progress along the same lines. The shared components—lurching from resonant tremolos into gallops, retreats to minimalistic whining and half-present drums, recurrent sludgy stomping—are effective in themselves. The issue comes with their repetition across a runtime that approaches an hour, where overlapping song transitions cause things to blur still further into an indistinct mass.

Viande are getting closer to the masterwork of horror they suggest they’re capable of. Despite being longer, Monument aux morts holds a more commanding presence than their debut and the germs of dark brilliance have grown to larger aspects that are truly gripping when they take over. All that remains is for Viande to stitch them together and give them the richer master their depths deserve.

Rating: Good
DR: 63 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 31st, 2026

If unrepentant guitar shredding gets your juices flowing, be warned that Arise from Worms bursts at the seams with face-melting indulgence on A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction. Boasting legends from essential death metal bands, Arise from Worms sports a first-rate, international pedigree. The project’s genesis stems from Sonny Lombardozzi, who seeks to push past genre boundaries in his quest for technical ecstasy. Lombardozzi spent time with Incantation from 2017 to 2019, contributing guitars for Profane Nexus, and recruited Morbid Angel vocalist Steve Tucker while supporting the Tampa institution on tour.1 From there, Lombardozzi rounded out the band with first-rate musicians. Cryptopsy‘s Flo Mounier bashes skulls and skins with his signature percussive shellacking, and ex-Dream Theater, ex-Yngwie Malmsteen keyboardist Derek Sherinian lends his high-velocity runs and proggy accents. Armed with enough firepower to defend a small nation, does A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction pack enough punch to make our collective worms arise?

Based solely on the members involved, A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction may not sound like what listeners expect to hear. Though Morbid Angel embodies an apt starting place with their serpentine riffs, Arise from Worms accelerates the speed and jolts guitar tones with a candied DragonForce coating. Sherinian’s contributions occasionally skew towards Dream Theater,2 though A Bleeding Tree requires a darker degree of menace and foreboding. Overall, Arise from Worms sounds a lot like Necrophagist, but with keyboards and a penchant for wankery. And though this comparison isn’t perfect, it gives prospective listeners a point to begin shaping expectations.

Arise from Worms’ performances across A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction doubtlessly spellbind with technicality. Lombardozzi’s masterclass shredding eats up the stage at every turn as he dances up and down the fretboard with enough gusto to make Yngwie blush. From the gratuitous weedlies in “Forgotten Kings” to the Annihilator-ready precision chugging in “Laolongtou,” Lombardozzi never leaves listeners doubting his greed for speed, whether on guitars or bass (“Axes of the Viovode 2”). In fact, Arise from Worms showcases excellent bassmanship throughout A Bleeding Tree, often shadowing the guitars with rousing plucking and impossibly dextrous burbles. Meanwhile, Mounier discharges an unimpeachable onslaught behind the kit, where furious double bass rolls (“Psionic Being”), jazz-flavored snare and cymbal finesse (“Nine Walls”), and tempered beatdowns amidst metronomic grooves (“Raize Demons Breath,” “Axes of the Viovode 1”) epitomize his exacting style and capture what makes him one of my favorite metal drummers. Similarly, Sherinian embeds synth flourishes and eldritch atmospherics to give Arise from Worms ample mystique while loosing dazzling keyboard cascades every now and again (“Laolongtou”). Though not as immediately eye-popping as the instrumentation, Tucker delivers an appropriately monstrous performance on A Bleeding Tree, and if there’s one ingredient Arise from Worms could use more of, it’s Tucker’s vicious vocals.

Unfortunately, despite the wizardry dripping off Arise from Worms’ A Bleeding Tree, insufficient songwriting prevents the technicality from coalescing into fully formed songs. “Forgotten Kings” and “Axes of the Viovode 1 & 2” give Tucker just enough of a platform to build towards proper tracks, but after a few listens, A Bleeding Tree loses its allure and leaks its jaw-dropping magic—even at a reasonable thirty-six minutes. More positively, the music sounds great, with Lombardozzi commanding Arise from Worms with frictionless licks and searing speeds. Given the bad reputation technical death metal gets for poor production, I find A Bleeding Tree a step above in this department, where strings, keys, drums, and vocals crash into one another with satisfying zeal while allowing each other plenty of room within the mix.

As a fan of technical showmanship and a high tolerance for self-indulgent instrumentation, Arise from Worms’ debut leaves me impressed yet mostly unmoved. A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction sounds incredible on paper, and lead single “Forgotten Kings” had me convinced that this would be a special album. In the promo materials, Arise from Worms touts breaking new musical ground and pioneering the writing of novel harmonies and time signatures. Yet in reality, A Bleeding Tree often exhibits the technicality of a clinic or workshop while lacking the songwriting cohesion to elevate songs past the surface. In the end, A Bleeding Tree lingers between outstanding performances and an inadequate execution of fulfilling metal songcraft, and while A Bleeding Tree may be worth Hanging around for, Arise for Worms carries more promise than they deliver on their debut.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: V0 or ~260 kbps VBR mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 10th, 2026

If unrepentant guitar shredding gets your juices flowing, be warned that Arise from Worms bursts at the seams with face-melting indulgence on A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction. Boasting legends from essential death metal bands, Arise from Worms sports a first-rate, international pedigree. The project’s genesis stems from Sonny Lombardozzi, who seeks to push past genre boundaries in his quest for technical ecstasy. Lombardozzi spent time with Incantation from 2017 to 2019, contributing guitars for Profane Nexus, and recruited Morbid Angel vocalist Steve Tucker while supporting the Tampa institution on tour.1 From there, Lombardozzi rounded out the band with first-rate musicians. Cryptopsy‘s Flo Mounier bashes skulls and skins with his signature percussive shellacking, and ex-Dream Theater, ex-Yngwie Malmsteen keyboardist Derek Sherinian lends his high-velocity runs and proggy accents. Armed with enough firepower to defend a small nation, does A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction pack enough punch to make our collective worms arise?

Based solely on the members involved, A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction may not sound like what listeners expect to hear. Though Morbid Angel embodies an apt starting place with their serpentine riffs, Arise from Worms accelerates the speed and jolts guitar tones with a candied DragonForce coating. Sherinian’s contributions occasionally skew towards Dream Theater,2 though A Bleeding Tree requires a darker degree of menace and foreboding. Overall, Arise from Worms sounds a lot like Necrophagist, but with keyboards and a penchant for wankery. And though this comparison isn’t perfect, it gives prospective listeners a point to begin shaping expectations.

Arise from Worms’ performances across A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction doubtlessly spellbind with technicality. Lombardozzi’s masterclass shredding eats up the stage at every turn as he dances up and down the fretboard with enough gusto to make Yngwie blush. From the gratuitous weedlies in “Forgotten Kings” to the Annihilator-ready precision chugging in “Laolongtou,” Lombardozzi never leaves listeners doubting his greed for speed, whether on guitars or bass (“Axes of the Viovode 2”). In fact, Arise from Worms showcases excellent bassmanship throughout A Bleeding Tree, often shadowing the guitars with rousing plucking and impossibly dextrous burbles. Meanwhile, Mounier discharges an unimpeachable onslaught behind the kit, where furious double bass rolls (“Psionic Being”), jazz-flavored snare and cymbal finesse (“Nine Walls”), and tempered beatdowns amidst metronomic grooves (“Raize Demons Breath,” “Axes of the Viovode 1”) epitomize his exacting style and capture what makes him one of my favorite metal drummers. Similarly, Sherinian embeds synth flourishes and eldritch atmospherics to give Arise from Worms ample mystique while loosing dazzling keyboard cascades every now and again (“Laolongtou”). Though not as immediately eye-popping as the instrumentation, Tucker delivers an appropriately monstrous performance on A Bleeding Tree, and if there’s one ingredient Arise from Worms could use more of, it’s Tucker’s vicious vocals.

Unfortunately, despite the wizardry dripping off Arise from Worms’ A Bleeding Tree, insufficient songwriting prevents the technicality from coalescing into fully formed songs. “Forgotten Kings” and “Axes of the Viovode 1 & 2” give Tucker just enough of a platform to build towards proper tracks, but after a few listens, A Bleeding Tree loses its allure and leaks its jaw-dropping magic—even at a reasonable thirty-six minutes. More positively, the music sounds great, with Lombardozzi commanding Arise from Worms with frictionless licks and searing speeds. Given the bad reputation technical death metal gets for poor production, I find A Bleeding Tree a step above in this department, where strings, keys, drums, and vocals crash into one another with satisfying zeal while allowing each other plenty of room within the mix.

As a fan of technical showmanship and a high tolerance for self-indulgent instrumentation, Arise from Worms’ debut leaves me impressed yet mostly unmoved. A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction sounds incredible on paper, and lead single “Forgotten Kings” had me convinced that this would be a special album. In the promo materials, Arise from Worms touts breaking new musical ground and pioneering the writing of novel harmonies and time signatures. Yet in reality, A Bleeding Tree often exhibits the technicality of a clinic or workshop while lacking the songwriting cohesion to elevate songs past the surface. In the end, A Bleeding Tree lingers between outstanding performances and an inadequate execution of fulfilling metal songcraft, and while A Bleeding Tree may be worth Hanging around for, Arise for Worms carries more promise than they deliver on their debut.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: V0 or ~260 kbps VBR mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 10th, 2026

Steel Druhm can never get enough rancid, rotten death. That’s probably why I had a large-capacity rotpit installed on my property, and why I maintain front-row seats at the local autopsy theater. Thus, I welcome what Canada’s Coprolith bring to the charnel house on their Putrescence debut. This is scuzzy, lo-fi, low-I.Q. death for the creeps who worship the vomitorious sounds of Autopsy, Grave, Incantation, and older acts like massively underappreciated Finnish maniacs Demigod.1 Taking many crucial cues from early Autopsy, Coprolith blend harrowing doom with blistering OSDM, and everything feels filthy, infectious, and corrupted. It’s a moldy oldy recipe, but in the hands of some truly sick twists, it can still fuck up your shit, as it does here.

You won’t spend much time wondering where Putrescence is heading either. Opener “Sentenced to the Grave” rips the band-aid off, along with a good portion of healthy flesh, as it brings a teeming, writhing mass of moist and gruesome death metal to life. Melding mid-tempo caveman grinding segments that feel massive and unstoppable with doomy plods that crush your will to thrive, this is like a leaden dead weight on your puny shoulders, but there’s a vibrancy and energy to it even when things are stuck in the meat mulch. Some well-timed upticks of speed with blastbeats and cement-mixer riffs keep you alert and following the funeral program. Add some utterly inhuman, reverb-heavy death croaks and vomit noises, and you’re in the grave business! I especially enjoy the eerie harmonies on the song’s back end. The title track is more of the same, informed by gruelingly meatheaded grooves and ponderous doom marching. The guitars offer just enough variety to keep things interesting, spiked by rabid flare-ups of aural violence.

The album centerpiece is the 7-minute “Defiling Incantation,” which Coprolith certainly do with gusto. It’s a lumbering, unwieldy piece of death-doom that recalls the best moments of Incantation and Winter without copying them, and there’s a dark, sludgy, blackened edge to everything that feels evil and unsettling. How do you follow something like that? With a hyper-aggressive piece of scummy, molten death that could have been on Post Mortem’s classic Coroner’s Office release. “Birthed by Remorseless Flames” packs top-notch Neanderthal power chugs and keeps things heavy enough to liquefy and evacuate the contents of your bowels. This is one of my favorite death ditties of 2026 because it feels olde, bold, and heavy like a two-ton anvil dipped in shit, duck fat, and motor oil. I don’t even care that it almost hits the 6-minute mark because it’s just so greasy and unappetizing. At a skinny 34 minutes, every track is morbidly a beast. Bloat is carefully avoided through well-timed tempo shifts, and even the longer cuts avoid feeling too long. The production is deranged genius, essentially recreating the horrific sound of Autopsy classics like Severed Survival and Acts of the Unspeakable. It’s grimy, smutty shit-muck, but damn does it hit the feelz bone with a 10 lb. sledge. There’s enough filth-gunk in the sound to please any hardcore death metal elitist, and you can still hear what the band is actually doing!

Guitarists A.K. and J.H. throw all manner of vile, befouled riffs at you, all with teeth that go for the nether-regions. The doomy leads are nigh-irresistible and will plant you in the earth like a flag pole. The urgent, in-your-face riffage feels jagged, ragged, and dripping with tetanus ichor. This sounds old as fook, but just as toxic as anything new-fangled being released today. To this nightmare sauce, add the obscene croaks, moans, and wretches of K.D., who seems to be broadcasting from some Lovecraftian dimension you want no part of. These unholy vocals add a whole layer of poo-crust to the already appallingly impure sound. Bassist A.M. delivers a lot of mass and heft to the sound profile, coming forward at times to shake your bladder batter into stiff peaks. All this is undergirded by the reliably massive drumming of A.M., who knows when to pound you into assdust and when to oppress your brain jelly. This crew knows what they’re about and how to harsh your mellows.

Coprolith have the rotten stuff, and they fling it all over the place. Putrescence is a nasty piece of soiled work and a loving tribute to the kings of death and death-doom. If you want to marinate in the medical waste barrel, this is the slurry to soak in. It will give you a loathsome disease, but you’ll enjoy the entire incubation period. That, my friends, is what good death metal can do for you/to you! GAG!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ojo / Rotted Life
Websites: coprolith.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/coprolithdeath
Releases Worldwide: July 3rd, 2026

Steel Druhm can never get enough rancid, rotten death. That’s probably why I had a large-capacity rotpit installed on my property, and why I maintain front-row seats at the local autopsy theater. Thus, I welcome what Canada’s Coprolith bring to the charnel house on their Putrescence debut. This is scuzzy, lo-fi, low-I.Q. death for the creeps who worship the vomitorious sounds of Autopsy, Grave, Incantation, and older acts like massively underappreciated Finnish maniacs Demigod.1 Taking many crucial cues from early Autopsy, Coprolith blend harrowing doom with blistering OSDM, and everything feels filthy, infectious, and corrupted. It’s a moldy oldy recipe, but in the hands of some truly sick twists, it can still fuck up your shit, as it does here.

You won’t spend much time wondering where Putrescence is heading either. Opener “Sentenced to the Grave” rips the band-aid off, along with a good portion of healthy flesh, as it brings a teeming, writhing mass of moist and gruesome death metal to life. Melding mid-tempo caveman grinding segments that feel massive and unstoppable with doomy plods that crush your will to thrive, this is like a leaden dead weight on your puny shoulders, but there’s a vibrancy and energy to it even when things are stuck in the meat mulch. Some well-timed upticks of speed with blastbeats and cement-mixer riffs keep you alert and following the funeral program. Add some utterly inhuman, reverb-heavy death croaks and vomit noises, and you’re in the grave business! I especially enjoy the eerie harmonies on the song’s back end. The title track is more of the same, informed by gruelingly meatheaded grooves and ponderous doom marching. The guitars offer just enough variety to keep things interesting, spiked by rabid flare-ups of aural violence.

The album centerpiece is the 7-minute “Defiling Incantation,” which Coprolith certainly do with gusto. It’s a lumbering, unwieldy piece of death-doom that recalls the best moments of Incantation and Winter without copying them, and there’s a dark, sludgy, blackened edge to everything that feels evil and unsettling. How do you follow something like that? With a hyper-aggressive piece of scummy, molten death that could have been on Post Mortem’s classic Coroner’s Office release. “Birthed by Remorseless Flames” packs top-notch Neanderthal power chugs and keeps things heavy enough to liquefy and evacuate the contents of your bowels. This is one of my favorite death ditties of 2026 because it feels olde, bold, and heavy like a two-ton anvil dipped in shit, duck fat, and motor oil. I don’t even care that it almost hits the 6-minute mark because it’s just so greasy and unappetizing. At a skinny 34 minutes, every track is morbidly a beast. Bloat is carefully avoided through well-timed tempo shifts, and even the longer cuts avoid feeling too long. The production is deranged genius, essentially recreating the horrific sound of Autopsy classics like Severed Survival and Acts of the Unspeakable. It’s grimy, smutty shit-muck, but damn does it hit the feelz bone with a 10 lb. sledge. There’s enough filth-gunk in the sound to please any hardcore death metal elitist, and you can still hear what the band is actually doing!

Guitarists A.K. and J.H. throw all manner of vile, befouled riffs at you, all with teeth that go for the nether-regions. The doomy leads are nigh-irresistible and will plant you in the earth like a flag pole. The urgent, in-your-face riffage feels jagged, ragged, and dripping with tetanus ichor. This sounds old as fook, but just as toxic as anything new-fangled being released today. To this nightmare sauce, add the obscene croaks, moans, and wretches of K.D., who seems to be broadcasting from some Lovecraftian dimension you want no part of. These unholy vocals add a whole layer of poo-crust to the already appallingly impure sound. Bassist A.M. delivers a lot of mass and heft to the sound profile, coming forward at times to shake your bladder batter into stiff peaks. All this is undergirded by the reliably massive drumming of A.M., who knows when to pound you into assdust and when to oppress your brain jelly. This crew knows what they’re about and how to harsh your mellows.

Coprolith have the rotten stuff, and they fling it all over the place. Putrescence is a nasty piece of soiled work and a loving tribute to the kings of death and death-doom. If you want to marinate in the medical waste barrel, this is the slurry to soak in. It will give you a loathsome disease, but you’ll enjoy the entire incubation period. That, my friends, is what good death metal can do for you/to you! GAG!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ojo / Rotted Life
Websites: coprolith.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/coprolithdeath
Releases Worldwide: July 3rd, 2026

Astriferous slimed out of the Costa Rican death metal scene back in 2019 and have been on a slow, upward crawl since. Their 2023 Pulsations from the Black Orb debut grabbed them some attention and a mostly positive review from our own Ferox. Their weapon of choice is repugnant caverncore with a dose of dissonance, putting them squarely in the Incantation, Dead Congregation, and early days Tomb Mold wing of the death emporium. Atavistic Unraveling finds them stuck in the same filth and scum with scant migration toward the light of day. It’s still fugly, grotesque death metal of the olden school, with the dissonance element adding a slight touch of modernity. Their sound is a bit more fleshed out this time, and when everything clicks, things can feel pretty goddamn harrowing and brutal. With so many bands trying to ape the classic Incantation sound and vibe, can Astriferous do enough to crack through that thick mucous membrane and claim their share of the cesspool? Let’s test the tainted waters for hazardous algae.

Fucknormous opener “Carriers of the Curse” is a fine way to kick things off, and it has all the crucial elements. It’s not doing anything new, but it comes after you with so much raw savagery that innovation starts to seem trivial. It covers all the bases a caverncore tune should, from ragged blasting to slower mid-tempo plodding, and there’s a meatheaded Cannibal Corpse vibe to the riffs when they aren’t being all snakey and creepy. The only downside is that it feels like the song rambles on for about a minute too long, revisiting the same scorched territory. “The Floating Catacombs” is more of the same high-quality ear abuse, with slimy, repulsive riffs and subterranean vocals teamed with caveman moments and some weirdly Voivodian riffs popping in and out for variety. As the album churns along, you get quality nastiness, but there’s that nagging tendency to stretch out compositions a bit too far, reducing the overall impact. This despite the fact that most song run between 4-5 minutes. It’s a weird thing. “Proto Embryo (The Third Tribulation)” is a remorseless blast furnace with just enough tempo shifts to keep things interesting, but it just keeps going when it feels like it should be over. Likewise, “Arcane Demonomania” is another blistering ass blaster with a jagged d-beat and a plethora of ugly, squiriming riffs. It’s easy to love, but once again, it drags on toward the end.

A few tracks are good but less impactful, like “Mnemonic Phenomena,” despite some effective doomy segments and overwhelming vocal excess. 8-plus minute closer “Resonance Cascade” is more modern-sounding, venturing into sludge doom at points. At its best, it can feel oppressive and suffocating. Over the whole runtime, though, it ends up challenging the attention span as segments of less interesting riffs drift by, offering little to cling to. The album’s nearly omnipresent sense of bloat makes a 36-minute album feel much longer than it is, which is a shame because Astriferous do so many things right here.

Felipe Tencio and new slinger Esteban Sancho are at the center of a maelstrom, casting frantic corkscrewing riffs in all directions when not laying down big power chugs that put the boot on the throat. This tandem knows the ways of caverncore, and many of these leads probably slithered away after recording to become invasive species somewhere. Incantation is a clear influence, but I also hear Immolation, Morbid Angel, and Cannibal Corpse in the DNA. Tencio is a great death metal vocalist possessed with a deep, intimidating roar for the ages. He sounds demonic and gigantic and anchors the material to the Ninth Level of Hell. José Pablo Phillips also impresses with a pronounced and weighty bass performance. The only real knock is that the writing can be undisciplined and too long in the fang, thereby partially unraveling the band’s good works.

Astriferous have a winning formula and the talent to execute it, and parts of Atavistic Unraveling scream of potential and hint at greatness. With tighter, more consistent writing, this would be a must-hear and headed for my year-end list. As it stands, I can safely recommend this for death heads everywhere as the wet, sticky goods are delivered, even if they aren’t all equally malicious and infectious. Like my great-granddaddy Pig Iron Druhm used to say, “If the cave smells of rancid mold, there’s bound to be some gold.” Wisdom!

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ojo
Website: instagram.com/astriferousdeath
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

Astriferous slimed out of the Costa Rican death metal scene back in 2019 and have been on a slow, upward crawl since. Their 2023 Pulsations from the Black Orb debut grabbed them some attention and a mostly positive review from our own Ferox. Their weapon of choice is repugnant caverncore with a dose of dissonance, putting them squarely in the Incantation, Dead Congregation, and early days Tomb Mold wing of the death emporium. Atavistic Unraveling finds them stuck in the same filth and scum with scant migration toward the light of day. It’s still fugly, grotesque death metal of the olden school, with the dissonance element adding a slight touch of modernity. Their sound is a bit more fleshed out this time, and when everything clicks, things can feel pretty goddamn harrowing and brutal. With so many bands trying to ape the classic Incantation sound and vibe, can Astriferous do enough to crack through that thick mucous membrane and claim their share of the cesspool? Let’s test the tainted waters for hazardous algae.

Fucknormous opener “Carriers of the Curse” is a fine way to kick things off, and it has all the crucial elements. It’s not doing anything new, but it comes after you with so much raw savagery that innovation starts to seem trivial. It covers all the bases a caverncore tune should, from ragged blasting to slower mid-tempo plodding, and there’s a meatheaded Cannibal Corpse vibe to the riffs when they aren’t being all snakey and creepy. The only downside is that it feels like the song rambles on for about a minute too long, revisiting the same scorched territory. “The Floating Catacombs” is more of the same high-quality ear abuse, with slimy, repulsive riffs and subterranean vocals teamed with caveman moments and some weirdly Voivodian riffs popping in and out for variety. As the album churns along, you get quality nastiness, but there’s that nagging tendency to stretch out compositions a bit too far, reducing the overall impact. This despite the fact that most song run between 4-5 minutes. It’s a weird thing. “Proto Embryo (The Third Tribulation)” is a remorseless blast furnace with just enough tempo shifts to keep things interesting, but it just keeps going when it feels like it should be over. Likewise, “Arcane Demonomania” is another blistering ass blaster with a jagged d-beat and a plethora of ugly, squiriming riffs. It’s easy to love, but once again, it drags on toward the end.

A few tracks are good but less impactful, like “Mnemonic Phenomena,” despite some effective doomy segments and overwhelming vocal excess. 8-plus minute closer “Resonance Cascade” is more modern-sounding, venturing into sludge doom at points. At its best, it can feel oppressive and suffocating. Over the whole runtime, though, it ends up challenging the attention span as segments of less interesting riffs drift by, offering little to cling to. The album’s nearly omnipresent sense of bloat makes a 36-minute album feel much longer than it is, which is a shame because Astriferous do so many things right here.

Felipe Tencio and new slinger Esteban Sancho are at the center of a maelstrom, casting frantic corkscrewing riffs in all directions when not laying down big power chugs that put the boot on the throat. This tandem knows the ways of caverncore, and many of these leads probably slithered away after recording to become invasive species somewhere. Incantation is a clear influence, but I also hear Immolation, Morbid Angel, and Cannibal Corpse in the DNA. Tencio is a great death metal vocalist possessed with a deep, intimidating roar for the ages. He sounds demonic and gigantic and anchors the material to the Ninth Level of Hell. José Pablo Phillips also impresses with a pronounced and weighty bass performance. The only real knock is that the writing can be undisciplined and too long in the fang, thereby partially unraveling the band’s good works.

Astriferous have a winning formula and the talent to execute it, and parts of Atavistic Unraveling scream of potential and hint at greatness. With tighter, more consistent writing, this would be a must-hear and headed for my year-end list. As it stands, I can safely recommend this for death heads everywhere as the wet, sticky goods are delivered, even if they aren’t all equally malicious and infectious. Like my great-granddaddy Pig Iron Druhm used to say, “If the cave smells of rancid mold, there’s bound to be some gold.” Wisdom!

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ojo
Website: instagram.com/astriferousdeath
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

La pluie, la pluie, la pluie, viens la pluie !!

#incantation #secheresse

New Jersey’s marshlands and hospital waste pits have long concealed one of America’s best death metal acts. Formed in 2000, Funebrarum leaked from the Garden State with a sound steeped in early 90s acts like Incantation and Immolation. Their Beneath the Columns of Abandoned Gods debut was a cavernous, monolithic ode to all things extreme and vile. Though it was crushingly heavy, there was a deft hand at work compositionally that made it all go down like greased tripe. It’s a classic of the death metal genre that, for whatever reason, never seems to get the respect it deserves. After 2009s excellent The Sleep of Morbid Dreams, the band went into a kind of extended hibernation, rising only occasionally to drop splits and EPs every few years, the last of which arrived in 2016. After 16 long years (and 10 of complete inactivity), they finally rise from the grave and deign to release a new full-length upon the world with Beckoning the Void of Eternal Silence. The good news is that multi-instrument wizard Phil Tougas of Worm, First Fragment, EXXÛL, and 50 other bands is on board to provide extra fretboard-busting insanity. After such a lengthy absence, what can one expect from Funebrarum? Will their usual caveman cavern-core antics still feel as terrifying and oppressive in this new age of death? Let’s drag the Jersey swamps for answers and dead mobsters.

After an overlong intro that sounds like it was stolen from a late 90s symphonic black metal album, we get dropped into the title track, which starts out equally moody and ominous before eventually shifting into cavern-core pummeling and blasting. Once this occurs, references to Incantation and Cruciamentum are inevitable, but this is a mellower beast with a lighter vibe to the music, as a classic 90s death metal gallop surfaces again and again amid stretches of doom slog and hyper-blastery. Guttural death vox and crazed blackened screams dot the landscape, and newish axe Sam Osbourne (ex-Undergang) joins Phil Tougas in dropping classic death leads and exploring other melodic spaces when solo time arrives. It’s a convincingly heavy, dense song, and it feels fairly inspired. Some of the momentum gained here is lost during the nearly 7 minutes of follow-up “ša nagba amāru,” which opts for a doomier direction and ends up a bit less convincing and forceful despite some interesting guitar work and appropriately dark moods. A big moment arrives with “Into Dark Domains,” where some of the classic Funebrarum energy sparks into being. It offers nods to classic 90s death platters like Onward to Golgotha, and some pieces even remind me of early grind days Carcass.

“From Rotting Burial Shrouds” delivers an immediately satisfying, few-frills beat down of foaming-at-the-mouth caveman death, and I love it, but it makes me wish for more lead pipe intensity from the rest of the material. And while nothing here could be labeled as wholly bad or filler (minus the short mid-album interlude), not every song puts the pimp hand down and bashes my brain into mind jelly. Penultimate track “Turning the Stones of Torment” is fairly generic and doesn’t do much for me. The nearly 9-minute finale, “The Whispering Cathedral – Epilogue,” is also underwhelming. It has interesting moments and segments, but by the 6th minute, I’m ready to settle my bill and check out. At 49 minutes, Beckoning feels significantly longer, and there’s noticeable bloat on several tracks that weigh things down in unfortunate ways.

There’s a garbage truck full of raw talent involved in the making of this album, even without the contributions from Mr. Tougas. Charles Koryn (Ascended Dead, ex-Ghoulgotha) is an impressive drummer, and he supplies a steady stream of gallops, blasts, rolls, and fills that keep things moving and shaking. Daryl Kahan (ex-Disma) is a true throat terror, shaking the ground with phlegmy, repellent croaks, and harsh screams. He sounds very inhuman and very reanimated. Now add the Tougas factor, and the guitar work goes from wow to WOW. The man can play and play he does. The only criticism I’d make is that some of the fretboard gymnastics make the vibe shift from death metal to melodeath and cause the album to feel less rancid and diseased.

I wasn’t expecting to see another album from Funebraum, and while I’m happy to have it, I’m a bit let down that it doesn’t approach the heights of their established discography. It’s definitely good with very good moments, but after so long in the void of eternal silence, it’s hard not to expect MOAR. I suppose part of the problem is that what they’re doing here has now been done so many times before, so some of the shock and awe has worn off. Still, there are loads of quality noise to be found for the patient death heads. New Jersey still has some disgusting tricks up its sleeve after all, besides Newark. Worth a loud blast, then go and visit their early stuff post-haste.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pulverized Records
Websites: funebrarum-death-metal.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/funebrarumofficial | instagram.com/funebrarum_official
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

New Jersey’s marshlands and hospital waste pits have long concealed one of America’s best death metal acts. Formed in 2000, Funebrarum leaked from the Garden State with a sound steeped in early 90s acts like Incantation and Immolation. Their Beneath the Columns of Abandoned Gods debut was a cavernous, monolithic ode to all things extreme and vile. Though it was crushingly heavy, there was a deft hand at work compositionally that made it all go down like greased tripe. It’s a classic of the death metal genre that, for whatever reason, never seems to get the respect it deserves. After 2009s excellent The Sleep of Morbid Dreams, the band went into a kind of extended hibernation, rising only occasionally to drop splits and EPs every few years, the last of which arrived in 2016. After 16 long years (and 10 of complete inactivity), they finally rise from the grave and deign to release a new full-length upon the world with Beckoning the Void of Eternal Silence. The good news is that multi-instrument wizard Phil Tougas of Worm, First Fragment, EXXÛL, and 50 other bands is on board to provide extra fretboard-busting insanity. After such a lengthy absence, what can one expect from Funebrarum? Will their usual caveman cavern-core antics still feel as terrifying and oppressive in this new age of death? Let’s drag the Jersey swamps for answers and dead mobsters.

After an overlong intro that sounds like it was stolen from a late 90s symphonic black metal album, we get dropped into the title track, which starts out equally moody and ominous before eventually shifting into cavern-core pummeling and blasting. Once this occurs, references to Incantation and Cruciamentum are inevitable, but this is a mellower beast with a lighter vibe to the music, as a classic 90s death metal gallop surfaces again and again amid stretches of doom slog and hyper-blastery. Guttural death vox and crazed blackened screams dot the landscape, and newish axe Sam Osbourne (ex-Undergang) joins Phil Tougas in dropping classic death leads and exploring other melodic spaces when solo time arrives. It’s a convincingly heavy, dense song, and it feels fairly inspired. Some of the momentum gained here is lost during the nearly 7 minutes of follow-up “ša nagba amāru,” which opts for a doomier direction and ends up a bit less convincing and forceful despite some interesting guitar work and appropriately dark moods. A big moment arrives with “Into Dark Domains,” where some of the classic Funebrarum energy sparks into being. It offers nods to classic 90s death platters like Onward to Golgotha, and some pieces even remind me of early grind days Carcass.

“From Rotting Burial Shrouds” delivers an immediately satisfying, few-frills beat down of foaming-at-the-mouth caveman death, and I love it, but it makes me wish for more lead pipe intensity from the rest of the material. And while nothing here could be labeled as wholly bad or filler (minus the short mid-album interlude), not every song puts the pimp hand down and bashes my brain into mind jelly. Penultimate track “Turning the Stones of Torment” is fairly generic and doesn’t do much for me. The nearly 9-minute finale, “The Whispering Cathedral – Epilogue,” is also underwhelming. It has interesting moments and segments, but by the 6th minute, I’m ready to settle my bill and check out. At 49 minutes, Beckoning feels significantly longer, and there’s noticeable bloat on several tracks that weigh things down in unfortunate ways.

There’s a garbage truck full of raw talent involved in the making of this album, even without the contributions from Mr. Tougas. Charles Koryn (Ascended Dead, ex-Ghoulgotha) is an impressive drummer, and he supplies a steady stream of gallops, blasts, rolls, and fills that keep things moving and shaking. Daryl Kahan (ex-Disma) is a true throat terror, shaking the ground with phlegmy, repellent croaks, and harsh screams. He sounds very inhuman and very reanimated. Now add the Tougas factor, and the guitar work goes from wow to WOW. The man can play and play he does. The only criticism I’d make is that some of the fretboard gymnastics make the vibe shift from death metal to melodeath and cause the album to feel less rancid and diseased.

I wasn’t expecting to see another album from Funebraum, and while I’m happy to have it, I’m a bit let down that it doesn’t approach the heights of their established discography. It’s definitely good with very good moments, but after so long in the void of eternal silence, it’s hard not to expect MOAR. I suppose part of the problem is that what they’re doing here has now been done so many times before, so some of the shock and awe has worn off. Still, there are loads of quality noise to be found for the patient death heads. New Jersey still has some disgusting tricks up its sleeve after all, besides Newark. Worth a loud blast, then go and visit their early stuff post-haste.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pulverized Records
Websites: funebrarum-death-metal.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/funebrarumofficial | instagram.com/funebrarum_official
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

Hatebreed will headline the second 2026 leg of The Summer Slaughter Tour with support from Terror, Incantation, Gates To Hell, Torture, and Creeping Death.

Details: https://metalinsider.net/touring/hatebreed-to-headline-second-leg-of-summer-slaughter-2026

#Hatebreed #SummerSlaughter #Terror #Incantation #CreepingDeath #DeathMetal #Hardcore #MetalTour #MetalNews

Gods of our land
Land stirring
Stirring awakening
Awakening dawning
Dawning intention
Intention focused
Focused together
Together to war
To win this war together

Fury stirring
Stirring boiling
Boiling rising
Rising relentlessly
Relentlessly destroying
Destroying enemy
Enemy on our land
Our land is cleansed
Cleansed of the enemy

#Rosc #Incantation #FediCoven

Gods of our land
Land stirring
Stirring awakening
Awakening dawning
Dawning intention
Intention focused
Focused together
Together to war
To win this war together

Fury stirring
Stirring boiling
Boiling rising
Rising relentlessly
Relentlessly destroying
Destroying enemy
Enemy on our land
Our land is cleansed
Cleansed of the enemy

#Rosc #Incantation #FediCoven

Me Saco Un Ojo Records has fast become one of my favorite death metal labels, signing bands whose music sates my sickened sweet tooth and reeks with the dirty, rotten, filthy, stinking, rich stench of death! Warranted tags that also describe Costa Rica’s newest OSDM export and Me Saco Un Ojo rosterlings, Candarian. Inspired by early 90s death metal, guitarist Christopher G. De Haan and bassist/vocalist José Pablo Phillips (Astriferous) birthed Candarian in 2020, gigging extensively throughout their local scene on the strength of a handful of songs that would eventually end up on their 2022 demo, Stagnant Livor Mortis—a meaty morsel of moldy maleficence. Four years further down the cemetery path with tandem label partner Memento Mori in tow and that charmingly grotesque Grant Hatfield cover art in hand, Candarian prepare to dump their debut bucket of blood, Trepanación, on you, and the heads of unsuspecting prom queens everywhere. Having precariously lived through the original 90s death metal wave, I was curious to see whether Candarian would have any fresh ideas to offer. Is Trepanación the death shroud I’ll cozily wrap myself up in on a cold night, or will it have me praying for someone to strap me down and drill a hole in my skull, too?

Candarian peddle in plague-laden, gore-soaked, horror-themed OSDM, with Trepanación serving up steaming bowls of slop bloated with chunks of Incantation and Autopsy. Not entirely original perhaps, but still not a bad place from which to draw inspiration, especially if well executed. Which Candarian does, sans feats of technical wizardry, as De Haan and fellow string-slayer Felipe Tencio (Astriferous) opt instead to perform ear-hole surgery with a Golgothan bag full of rusty, tremoloed riffs, serrated squealies, and mangled, meat-hammered chugs (“Altars and Ancestors”). On drums stretched taut with human skin, blunt force butcher Pablo Umaña keeps the Candarian brain-drill from boring any errant head holes while Phillips, whose bass lines lurk and gurgle below like blood-clogged lungs (“Psychosurgery Ecstasy”) and whose cavernous bellows strike a very John McEntee chord, rounds out the cadaverous quartet. It’s clear these Ticos know death metal.

Candarian muscles their way through Trepanación with biceps built on strongwriting. Shifts in tone and pace within tracks are written with alacrity and performed with a transitional maturity that never feels forced or too abrupt. Basking in beams of light cast by “The Ibex Moon,”1 the ghoulishly fun “Zombie Miscarriage” morphs smoothly from down-tuned tremolo-monstrous riffs over lumbering double-bass rolls to drunkenly swerving doom chords and mid-paced chug ‘n squeals, all punctuated by Phillips’ rancorous roars. Another limb retaining some viably meaty moments is “Relinquished Viscera,” its sluggish, Morbificated opening riffs acquiescing easily to speedier harmonic leads and oft-used pus-pinching harmonics. The last of my odious shoutouts goes to album closer “Vilipendio del Cadaver”2 which sweats Mental Funeral-filled beads of ichor as it trudges and stomps a path filled with doomy goodness, Sabbathian trills, and a swingy section that could give “In the Grip of Winter” a run for its money.

Candarian hit the nail on the head of 90s death metal. Paying tribute to their influences without sounding overtly derivative and accomplishing this through a production that maintains just the right amount of rawness to stay menacing without devolving into the overly cloudy, reverberant depths of early cavern-core. Manageably brief, with a runtime barely cresting 33 minutes, Trepanación tends to feel longer than it is, thanks in part to all the inter-song twists and turns and to four of the seven tracks exceeding the 5-minute mark. Not a major knock, but it was something I felt on all my play-throughs. Working most against them, without having done anything egregiously bad or exceptionally good, is Candarian’s throwback “no more but no less” approach, as this can only take them so far. Which also reinforces guidance I once received from one wizened, hairy primate related to scoring death metal of this ilk.

If you’re ever in the mood for better than passable, old-school, filthy death metal, the Me Saco Un Ojo roster—Cryptworm, Invictus, Phrenelith, Ossuary, Diabolizer and many more among them—does not disappoint. Candarian, a band I’ll certainly be keeping tabs on, is another fine addition, and you could do a lot worse than spend an afternoon or three getting skull fucked by Trepanación.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ojo | Memento Mori
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: April 27th, 2026

Me Saco Un Ojo Records has fast become one of my favorite death metal labels, signing bands whose music sates my sickened sweet tooth and reeks with the dirty, rotten, filthy, stinking, rich stench of death! Warranted tags that also describe Costa Rica’s newest OSDM export and Me Saco Un Ojo rosterlings, Candarian. Inspired by early 90s death metal, guitarist Christopher G. De Haan and bassist/vocalist José Pablo Phillips (Astriferous) birthed Candarian in 2020, gigging extensively throughout their local scene on the strength of a handful of songs that would eventually end up on their 2022 demo, Stagnant Livor Mortis—a meaty morsel of moldy maleficence. Four years further down the cemetery path with tandem label partner Memento Mori in tow and that charmingly grotesque Grant Hatfield cover art in hand, Candarian prepare to dump their debut bucket of blood, Trepanación, on you, and the heads of unsuspecting prom queens everywhere. Having precariously lived through the original 90s death metal wave, I was curious to see whether Candarian would have any fresh ideas to offer. Is Trepanación the death shroud I’ll cozily wrap myself up in on a cold night, or will it have me praying for someone to strap me down and drill a hole in my skull, too?

Candarian peddle in plague-laden, gore-soaked, horror-themed OSDM, with Trepanación serving up steaming bowls of slop bloated with chunks of Incantation and Autopsy. Not entirely original perhaps, but still not a bad place from which to draw inspiration, especially if well executed. Which Candarian does, sans feats of technical wizardry, as De Haan and fellow string-slayer Felipe Tencio (Astriferous) opt instead to perform ear-hole surgery with a Golgothan bag full of rusty, tremoloed riffs, serrated squealies, and mangled, meat-hammered chugs (“Altars and Ancestors”). On drums stretched taut with human skin, blunt force butcher Pablo Umaña keeps the Candarian brain-drill from boring any errant head holes while Phillips, whose bass lines lurk and gurgle below like blood-clogged lungs (“Psychosurgery Ecstasy”) and whose cavernous bellows strike a very John McEntee chord, rounds out the cadaverous quartet. It’s clear these Ticos know death metal.

Candarian muscles their way through Trepanación with biceps built on strongwriting. Shifts in tone and pace within tracks are written with alacrity and performed with a transitional maturity that never feels forced or too abrupt. Basking in beams of light cast by “The Ibex Moon,”1 the ghoulishly fun “Zombie Miscarriage” morphs smoothly from down-tuned tremolo-monstrous riffs over lumbering double-bass rolls to drunkenly swerving doom chords and mid-paced chug ‘n squeals, all punctuated by Phillips’ rancorous roars. Another limb retaining some viably meaty moments is “Relinquished Viscera,” its sluggish, Morbificated opening riffs acquiescing easily to speedier harmonic leads and oft-used pus-pinching harmonics. The last of my odious shoutouts goes to album closer “Vilipendio del Cadaver”2 which sweats Mental Funeral-filled beads of ichor as it trudges and stomps a path filled with doomy goodness, Sabbathian trills, and a swingy section that could give “In the Grip of Winter” a run for its money.

Candarian hit the nail on the head of 90s death metal. Paying tribute to their influences without sounding overtly derivative and accomplishing this through a production that maintains just the right amount of rawness to stay menacing without devolving into the overly cloudy, reverberant depths of early cavern-core. Manageably brief, with a runtime barely cresting 33 minutes, Trepanación tends to feel longer than it is, thanks in part to all the inter-song twists and turns and to four of the seven tracks exceeding the 5-minute mark. Not a major knock, but it was something I felt on all my play-throughs. Working most against them, without having done anything egregiously bad or exceptionally good, is Candarian’s throwback “no more but no less” approach, as this can only take them so far. Which also reinforces guidance I once received from one wizened, hairy primate related to scoring death metal of this ilk.

If you’re ever in the mood for better than passable, old-school, filthy death metal, the Me Saco Un Ojo roster—Cryptworm, Invictus, Phrenelith, Ossuary, Diabolizer and many more among them—does not disappoint. Candarian, a band I’ll certainly be keeping tabs on, is another fine addition, and you could do a lot worse than spend an afternoon or three getting skull fucked by Trepanación.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ojo | Memento Mori
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: April 27th, 2026

Aquest any es compleixen 30 anys que arribava "Incantation" per "Super Nintendo" de #Nintendo 🕹🎮. #Incantation #SuperNintendo #Plataformes #Videojocs #Gaming #VideoGames #RetroGaming #ClassicGaming #RetroGames #VideojocsAntics

Aquest any es compleixen 30 anys que arribava "Incantation" per "Super Nintendo" de #Nintendo 🕹🎮. #Incantation #SuperNintendo #Plataformes #Videojocs #Gaming #VideoGames #RetroGaming #ClassicGaming #RetroGames #VideojocsAntics

"The moment was all; the moment was enough.”
― Virginia Woolf, The Waves

I don’t always compose. Sometimes I listen—for garden incantations passing through. I capture them in words:

"We are a chord of scattered feathers, our fractures shimmering in the sun; every shifting wind retunes us, composing our unsteady flight into song."

#self-portrait #happiness #joy #garden #incantation #rhyme #woolf

"The moment was all; the moment was enough.”
― Virginia Woolf, The Waves

I don’t always compose. Sometimes I listen—for garden incantations passing through. I capture them in words:

"We are a chord of scattered feathers, our fractures shimmering in the sun; every shifting wind retunes us, composing our unsteady flight into song."

#self-portrait #happiness #joy #garden #incantation #rhyme #woolf

#NintendoSwitch Review Video: #Incantation - If you’re willing to be patient on the more suspenseful moments and scares, there’s at least some payoff here, but there’s also a lot of downtime and general disappointment in between #IndieGames...

https://youtu.be/e_ucxvR-VXo

#NintendoSwitch Review Video: #Incantation - If you’re willing to be patient on the more suspenseful moments and scares, there’s at least some payoff here, but there’s also a lot of downtime and general disappointment in between #IndieGames...

https://youtu.be/e_ucxvR-VXo

#NintendoSwitch Video: #Incantation - There's definitely a decent horror and suspense vibe, with some scares, but quite a bit of walking as well #IndieGames

https://youtu.be/qcOoSHDJT94

#NintendoSwitch Video: #Incantation - There's definitely a decent horror and suspense vibe, with some scares, but quite a bit of walking as well #IndieGames

https://youtu.be/qcOoSHDJT94

Incantation; el juego de terror y supervivencia cinematográfico asiático ya está disponible para consolas

https://powerups.es/incantation-el-juego-de-terror-y-supervivencia-cinematografico-asiatico-ya-esta-disponible-para-consolas/

#Noticias #Eastasiasoft #Incantation

Incantation; el juego de terror y supervivencia cinematográfico asiático ya está disponible para consolas

https://powerups.es/incantation-el-juego-de-terror-y-supervivencia-cinematografico-asiatico-ya-esta-disponible-para-consolas/

#Noticias #Eastasiasoft #Incantation

The life of the unpaid, overworked metal reviewer is not an easy one. The reviewing collective at AMG lurches from one new release to the next, errors and n00bs strewn in our wake. But what if, once in a while, the collective paused to take stock and consider the discography of those bands that shaped many a taste? What if multiple aspects of the AMG collective personality shared with the slavering masses their personal rankings of that discography, and what if the rest of the personality used a Google sheet some kind of dark magic to produce an official guide to, and an all-around definitive aggregated ranking of, that band’s entire discography? Well, if that happened, we imagine it would look something like this…

Formed in 1988, Immolation emerged shortly after death metal’s dawn of aggression. Alongside Incantation, Suffocation, and Mortician, Immolation cemented themselves as a cornerstone of New York’s death metal scene in the early 90s. Since then, the band has erected a kingdom of consistency, releasing cut after unholy cut of complex arrangements, unwavering hostility, and anti-religious ruminations about the failures of gods. Key to Immolation’s dependable, high-quality output are mainstays bassist/vocalist Ross Dolan and guitarist Robert Vigna, who have both been with the band since inception. Even Immolation’s other members prove steadfast, with drummer Steve Shalaty searing skins since 2003 and Alex Bouks lending his axe since 2016. Through eleven full-length releases, Immolation has proven that their ability to harness ruin and forge death metal majesty is nigh unparalleled.

With twelfth album Descent arriving soon, staffers old and new clamored to share their opinions on how Immolation’s back catalog stacks up. Unlike rankings mostly prescribed by overwhelming consensus on their highs and lows, Immolation presents a discography with nothing to atone for, providing fertile ground for healthy, well-considered discourse. Without further ado, then, let’s put our ears to the door of a world below and divine these diabolical rankings!

– Grin Reaper

The Rankings

Grin Reaper

In my book, nobody does pure death metal better than Immolation. More consistent than Suffocation and Incantation and more uncompromising than Morbid Angel and Cryptopsy,1 Immolation scoffs at AMG’s Law of Diminishing Recordings™ as they reign atop an unimpeachable discography that lacks a single turd. Seriously. The ‘worst’ album Immolation ever put out still rivals or surpasses the best from most other death metal outfits, and their indomitable march to dismantle the weak and unworthy entrenches them as one of my all-time favorite acts. Jesus wept—Immolation never fucking flinched.

#11. Harnessing Ruin (2005) — Something has to be last, and Harnessing Ruin gets my tap. Songwriting-wise, Immolation drops a strong effort with acerbically grim leads and a rousing introduction to new drummer Steve Shalaty. Guitars supply the album highlights—from the gnarled riffing in “Our Savior Sleeps” and the sludgy sway on “Son of Iniquity” to the scalding solo on “Dead to Me,” Bob Vigna and Bill Taylor sizzle with hell’s fire across Harnessing Ruin. Unfortunately, the album’s production holds it back, and the muffled mix lacks the bite of Unholy Cult. Also, the longest songs cluster at the end, dragging the back half a touch.

#10. Kingdom of Conspiracy (2013) — Kingdom of Conspiracy just ekes ahead of Harnessing Ruin, clocking three minutes briefer despite having one more track. To my ears, Kingdom of Conspiracy features Immolation’s brightest, most modern production. This offers a boon to Dolan’s grating growls and the tormented guitar tandem of Vigna and Taylor, but it also buries the bass and pushes the drums further away from the dead corpse smacks that characterize my favorite Immolation bass drum tones. As one might expect from the bottom end of such an excellent discography, Kingdom of Conspiracy does little wrong, but lacks the heretical heft that defines Immolation’s best material.

#9. Shadows in the Light (2007) — Concluding what I consider Immolation’s middle period, Shadows in the Light chronologically bridges their weakest link, Harnessing Ruin, and powerhouse Nuclear Blast debut, Majesty and Decay. Shadows in the Light drastically improves on Harnessing Ruin’s production, wading out of the former’s forlorn pall and laying down brimstone-tinged bangers like one-two punch “Passion Kill” and “World Agony.” A sense of immediacy pervades Shadows that, while not lacking in the lowest-ranked albums, burns even hotter here, filling its forty minutes with writhing leads and furious drumming that typifies what Immolation does so damned well.

#8. Failures for Gods (1999) — Failures for Gods falling to #8 proves just how potent Immolation’s discography is, as the album would be a crown jewel in countless other discographies. On the surface, Failures for Gods has everything Immolation fans could ask for: punishing grooves, tortured guitars, and vocals that could command the armies of hell. Despite that, Failures for Gods feels like it holds back from the devastating offensive that would launch a year later, instead rehashing rather than progressing what Immolation accomplished on their first two albums. Still, Failures introduced drummer Alex Hernandez, and though his masterstrokes would be heard on Close, songs like “God Made Filth” and “The Devil I Know” heralded the storm to come.

#7. Dawn of Possession (1991) — Pure fucking evil rarely sounds this intoxicating. Steeped in an unpolished production that’s coarse yet clear, Dawn of Possession hooks ears and souls alike, flaying them with its hellish implements. Though it’s Immolation’s most straightforward album, tracks like “Into Everlasting Fire, “Those Left Behind,” and “Immolation” exemplify why suburban mothers clutch their pearls when they happen upon their precious babes listening to death metal. Dawn of Possession was my entry point for Immolation, and it encompasses everything the band offers without guile. I still recommend it for the uninitiated, particularly those who enjoy straight-up OSDM with a side of heresy.

#6. Unholy Cult (2002) — Where Failures for Gods luxuriates in gloomy menace and Close to a World Below reeks of sulfurous damnation, Unholy Cult blurs the line between the two. Starting with a slow build on opener “Of Martyrs and Men,” Unholy Cult careens between ominous drawls and infernal fervor with a substantially improved production over Immolation’s 90s output. “Unholy Cult” remains the second-longest song these death peddlers have penned, and it looms large, rooted in the front half of the album. From there, the tracks rumble and blitz up to closer “Bring Them Down,” a funky barnburner that highlights Dolan’s basswork amidst Immolation’s blazing backdrop.

#5. Majesty and Decay (2010) — Immolation unleashed a juggernaut for their first platter with Nuclear Blast. Blistering, contemplative, and brimming with moldering melody, Majesty and Decay swats with the divine laze of a celestial being, uncoiling at its leisure but devastating in its wrath once roused. Tracks like “A Glorious Epoch” and “The Rapture of Ghosts” toe this line, where beefy chugs pound beneath soaring, anthemic guitars. Meanwhile, the likes of “The Purge” and “A Token of Malice” hit with the force of a thunderclap, unrelenting in their fury. I originally had Majesty and Decay in the same tier as Atonement and Acts of God, but the busy mix and unimaginatively titled “Intro” and “Interlude” hold it back.2

#4. Atonement (2017) — With no song running past the five-minute mark, Atonement exhibits Immolation’s dedication to excising the fat and gristle. Vigna’s crooked leads and crushing riffs mesh perfectly with new guitarist Alex Bouks’ calculated anarchy, and together they synchronize in exquisite harmony. Along with Majesty and Decay, Atonement might be the closest Immolation comes to achieving accessibility. Typically, my favorite straight-up death metal furnishes little room for nuance, and though Immolation doesn’t have a reputation for subtlety, Atonement expertly doles out moments of relief (the end of “When the Jackals Come,” the intro to “Lower”) that almost lull you into safety before the bottom drops out and sends you to hell.

#3. Acts of God (2022) — When I first saw Immolation flaunting fifteen tracks totaling over fifty minutes, I thought their best days were behind them. Bloat is never a good sign, particularly from a band with such a pristine track record. I happily resign to being wrong, though, as Acts of God not only subverted but demolished my expectations. Immolation’s allure lies in the intricacies of their music. Dolan’s patristic admonishment of humanity, Vigna and Bouks’ serpentine noodling, and Shalaty’s tempestuous brutalization of the kit define the band’s sound, yet here the music is more direct and urgent than ever. Rather than missing any beats, Immolation sounds ruinously revitalized.

#2. Here in After (1996) — Though not a significant shift away from Dawn of Possession, Immolation struck nails to gold with Here in After. Compared to later releases, Here in After radiates a few extra degrees of chaos, with deranged soloing that reminds of Slayer’s vision of hell and a slightly more impassioned vocal performance from Dolan. To be clear, his vocals are one of my favorite aspects of Immolation’s sound, and his matter-of-fact, comprehensible gutturals against such malicious metal engenders wonderful drama. The edge to his voice on “Nails to Gold” and “Christ’s Cage” adds a dimension of metaphysical dread that is the chef’s kiss throughout Here in After’s inflamed impiety.

#1. Close to a World Below (2000) — I can’t fathom any other Immolation album topping this blasphemous bonanza than Close to a World Below. Opening with my favorite Immolation track “Higher Coward,” the album bursts forth with an unapologetic eruption of sinuous guitars, vicious growls, and an unyielding onslaught by drummer Alex Hernandez. The drum tones alone deserve a spotlight, but the cataclysmic bombardment of stick on skin violence stops me dead in my tracks anytime one of Close to a World Below’s songs pops up. Immolation distills the essence of what worked so well on previous albums and folds those layers into a perfect performance across eight insidiously immaculate tracks. “Father, You’re Not a Father,” “Unpardonable Sin,” and the closing title track resonate with especially inspired performances, but the entirety of Close to a World Below boils over with the most unhinged and malignant performance of Immolation’s career. Being damned never sounded so Iconic.

Lavender Larcenist

#11. Harnessing Ruin (2005) — Immolation does not have a bad album, but Harnessing Ruin feels like a band chugging along in a bit of an in-between space. The production is muddled here, especially after Unholy Cult and Close to a World Below, but “Our Savior Sleeps” still retains that Immolation heft while “At Mourning’s Twilight” is an inspired closer with an incredible solo at the midpoint. Harnessing Ruin would be the best album of many other bands’ careers, but it is only a lower-tier album for a band as storied as Immolation.

#10. Shadows in the Light (2007) — Shadows in the Light follows Harnessing Ruin in terms of feeling like a band spinning its wheels (as much as a band as talented as Immolation can). Even then, “Passion Kill” is a classic Immolation track with an incredible breakdown that will make a fan out of any listener. “World Agony” follows with a dissonant wailing riff backing as it drops headfirst into a rolling bulldozer of a track. Unfortunately, there isn’t much else to Shadows in the Light that helps it stand out amongst the rest of Immolation’s discography, but it still makes for a solid death metal record with some memorable tracks that have stood the test of time.

#9. Failures for Gods (1999) — Failures for Gods is a solid album that is no slouch in the songwriting department, but it is marred by some truly busted production. Everything feels muddy, oddly loud, and compressed at the same time. “No Jesus, No Beast” is a monster, and the title track features that classic evil tone that becomes so apparent in late-stage Immolation, but the production handicaps this album at every turn. Great songwriting goes a long way, but in a race this tight, poor production brings Failures for Gods low.

#8. Kingdom of Conspiracy (2013) — Kingdom of Conspiracy shaves off a bit of Majesty and Decay’s technicality to its detriment. It is the closest Immolation has come to creating an album that is more groove than tech. As a result, it is probably one of their more approachable records, but it is the weakest of their current era. “Keep the Silence” is a monster of a track, and Kingdom has more than enough material to make it worth a listen. I think this is an album more fans should revisit, and newbies should start with, because it is hooky, heavy, and groovy in ways that will tickle your evil organ.

#7. Dawn of Possession (1991) — Dawn of Possession is an incredible debut from a band that is clearly young and ready to fuck the world up. Robert Vigna’s trademark style is immediately apparent, and Immolation’s blend of groove, dizzying technicality, and evil vibes is on display out of the gate. Craig Smilowski’s drumming is absurd in its rhythm and technical flourishes, but the album lacks the atmosphere that Immolation became famous for later in their career. Dawn of Possession is a fantastic debut that is only brought down by the extent to which its tracks bleed together. Something Immolation struggles with throughout their career.

#6. Here in After (1996) — Here in After sees the band refine their skills and write tighter songs that hit harder while adding just a little dash of that trademark Immolation vibe. The groove is starting to creep in, and tracks like “Christ’s Cage” showcase the band playing with the truly evil tone that pervades their most recent work. Album opener “Nailed to Gold” is a classic for the band, and Here in After is a quintessential Immolation album. Ross Dolan’s vocals have switched from Dawn’s nastier tone to his trademark bellow, and Vigna’s pirouetting shredwork is here to stay. Here in After is Immolation in classic form.

#5. Close to a World Below (2000) — Opening with “Higher Coward”, Close to a World Below starts on a high note and never stops delivering. The production foibles of Failures are ironed out, and Immolation sounds like a band ready to bulldoze society. “Unpardonable Sin” is as heavy as it is frantic with its switches back and forth between dissonant groove and face-melting speed. “Lost Passion” crescendos into trademark Immolation wankery in the best way, but Close to a World Below still suffers from some odd production. Dolan’s vocals feel slightly different track to track, but this is an album with some of Immolation’s best songs to date.

#4. Unholy Cult (2002) — Something about Unholy Cult just clicks for me. “Of Martyrs and Men” is that pure, wonderful, evil shit. After an explosive intro, the track moves into one of Immolation’s most crushing riffs. The title track is a slice of hell in a way the band hasn’t played with since “Christ’s Cage”, an eight-minute epic that is as catchy as it is devastating. Vigna flips from this vibrato-tremolo guitar riff right into an all-out assault and back to massive Immolation grooves without a hitch. Unholy Cult is stuffed with great tracks and feels like a first step towards the second half of Immolation’s career, where atmosphere and groove hold more sway over pure technicality.

#3. Majesty and Decay (2010) — Majesty and Decay is where modern Immolation comes into full form. Part truly diabolical atmosphere, part neutron star heavy, all technical and groovy as hell. “Intro” gives listeners a glimpse into the band’s future. “A Glorious Epoch” has one of the best riffs, basically ever, making for a track that gets my blood boiling without fail. “A Token of Malice” is astounding in its technicality while being a freight train of destruction with Vigna riding shotgun. Majesty and Decay is also the best Immolation has sounded up to this point, where the production finally feels consistent, clear, and absolutely brutal.

#2. Atonement (2017) — Likely an album that will grace the top tier on every list, Atonement feels like the quintessential Immolation album. If I were to introduce the band to anyone, I would probably start here. “When the Jackals Come” is one of the band’s best tracks, and “Lower” is just astounding in how brutal Immolation still is decades later. It also keeps things at a slim and trim forty-four minutes, and album closer “Epiphany” puts a perfect bow on this devil baby. There isn’t a track worth skipping on Atonement, a feat made all the more impressive when it is a band ten albums into their career.

#1. Acts of God (2022) — Where do I start with Acts of God? To me, it is the perfect combination of creativity, groove, technicality, and that evil Immolation sound we have come to know and cherish. As one of Immolation’s longest albums, you would think the well has run dry, but the intro “Abandoned” and interlude “And The Flames Wept” add so much cohesion to the album and drape the entire affair in a veil of depravity. Acts of God features some of Immolation’s biggest and baddest riffs, while also pushing their atmosphere to new heights. Their most evil album, their most creative, and maybe even their heaviest. “Noose of Thorns” is led by a diabolical descending riff that drops into high-pitched tapping that sets the tone so well you can’t help but feel pulled by hell’s destructive currents. “Immoral Stain” is dripping with malice; you can hear it seep into every riff and lyric. “Let the Darkness In” features a bouncing, infectious groove that immediately flips into Vigna’s trademark dissonant wails. Acts of God is Immolation’s magnum opus in every sense, and somehow my favorite album by a band that feels like they can do no wrong.

Mark Z.

Immolation feel like old friends. I discovered them early in my extreme metal journey and was immediately captivated by Bob Vigna’s unconventional riffing style and Ross Dolan’s commanding (and surprisingly comprehensible) growl. No matter what’s happened in the metal scene, it’s always been comforting to know that Immolation have been there, touring relentlessly while consistently delivering their trademark brand of dissonant death metal and never releasing a true dud. In the world of old school death metal, they’re the one band I could always count on. Because of that, they’ll always have a special place in my ever-blackening heart.

#11. Shadows in the Light (2007) — Not a bad album, just a relatively bland one. While there are some inspired ideas, most of the tracks have little of the dark atmosphere or interesting songwriting found on their earlier material. Nonetheless, it’s a testament to Immolation’s quality that even their worst album still has stuff as good as the lumbering grooves of “Passion Kill” or the growl-along catchiness of “World Agony,” which is one of the group’s best songs.

#10. Harnessing Ruin (2005) — Arguably Immolation’s most accessible album, Harnessing Ruin shows them trying to find their place in the mid-2000s death metal scene by writing some more direct songs than usual. Just like with Shadows in the Light, however, this album sags in its back half and lacks the darkness or quality of the first few records. There’s good stuff here, but this record also feels bleak and oddly dated, possibly due to the generic mid-2000s artwork, plain production job, or the misguided use of whispered vocals in “Dead to Me” and “Son of Iniquity.”

#9. Kingdom of Conspiracy (2013) — The fucking drums, man. The drum sound here is borderline overbearing, and given that this record is already pretty fast, the overall experience is a relentless and punishing one that largely crushes nuance beneath the heel of its boot. Fortunately, the riffing is still strong, and the album’s generally fast nature makes the slower, commanding marches of “Keep the Silence” and “All That Awaits Us” hit all the harder.

#8. Majesty and Decay (2010) — After a relatively lackluster era in the mid-2000s, Immolation signed to Nuclear Blast and seemed hell-bent on redemption with Majesty and Decay. Compared to its immediate predecessors, this record has an improved production job, more dynamic songwriting, and a better sense of structure (with the band employing an intro track and interlude for the first time). While the title track’s Gateways to Annihilation vibes make it one of the band’s best slower songs, the album as a whole would be better if some of the weaker tracks were shaved off and a few others were tightened up a bit.

#7. Acts of God (2022) — This is a very good album with two main issues: It’s too long, and it has the misfortune of having to follow up Atonement. Not even an Immolation album needs to be 52 minutes long, and compared to its predecessor, the production is stuffier and the songs aren’t as strong. As a whole, however, this is still a blasphemous good time that maintains a consistently high level of quality throughout, with “The Age of No Light” and “Overtures of the Wicked” being especially powerful cuts.

#6. Unholy Cult (2002) — Immolation’s fifth album represents a bridge between the apocalyptic malevolence of their early material and the polished hostility of their later work. It’s also potentially their most vicious and chaotic release, with the opening track “Of Martyrs and Men” even featuring some borderline-mathcore riffs. While at times tough to untangle, Unholy Cult ultimately succeeds as a 41-minute shrapnel blast of ideas that somehow combines the epic and the violent into an utterly compelling whole.

#5. Failures for Gods (1999) — The start of Immolation’s long partnership with producer Paul Orofino, Failures for Gods is held back a bit by his lack of prior experience with death metal, with the bass drums sounding like bouncing basketballs. Stylistically and structurally, however, this is essentially Here in After Part II, with twisted and brooding compositions that vary between being grandiose and cutthroat. While a bit front-loaded, Failures is still a brilliant record. In a just world, “No Jesus, No Beast” would be the closer at every Immolation show.

#4. Dawn of Possession (1991) — Immolation’s debut essentially gave their death-thrash demo tracks a murkier production job and placed them alongside newer songs that would hint at the band’s dissonance to come. As such, Dawn of Possession is the most traditional death metal album in the band’s catalog while also being one of the most distinct and stylistically diverse. While Bob Vigna would only improve as a songwriter from here, Dawn’s numerous classic tracks and otherworldly sense of blasphemy make it easy to love, warts and all.

#3. Atonement (2017) — How the fuck is this album so good? Late-career albums aren’t supposed to be this good, but this is the rare lightning-strike release where everything hits just right: the production, the songwriting, the performances, and even the cover art (which marks the return of the band’s classic logo). It’s like they found a way to increase the quality of everything while sacrificing nothing, resulting in a record that’s powerful yet understated, hooky yet stuffed with riffs, and listenable yet extreme. It may be slightly front-loaded, but it’s still one of my favorite death metal albums of the 2010s.

#2. Here in After (1996) — Arriving five years after their debut, Here in After shows Immolation truly coming into their own, with Bob Vigna’s dark, dissonant arrangements and Ross Dolan’s menacing, intelligible growl both emerging in full force. The improved songwriting is apparent right from the flawless opener, “Nailed to Gold,” which could be one of the Top 10 death metal songs ever. While the twisted structures that follow are less immediately accessible, it all eventually coalesces into a masterfully crafted whole, demonstrating a keen sense of flow and diversity while exuding a timeless, unheavenly darkness that only Immolation could conjure.

#1. Close to a World Below (2000) — There are certain albums so good that they transcend not only their own band’s discography, but also the rest of their genre. Close to a World Below is one of those albums. Never before or since has an album sounded so much like being in hell, with a suffocating and merciless production job that somehow still allows every note to be heard in all its unholy glory. Drummer Alex Hernandez delivers a once-in-a-career performance that sounds like he’s bashing every part of his kit at once, and Bob Vigna somehow manages to write his catchiest material while still delivering riffs more warped than ever. The record also has one of the best openings of all time, with a sullen voice asking, “Didn’t you say. . . Jesus was coming?” before a blasting onslaught tramples any hope of ever making it to heaven. Fukk it, send me below!

Spicie Forrest

Having begun my metal journey in nü territory, there are holes in my metallic knowledge you could drive a commercial truck through.3 While Immolation has long been a name vaguely known to me, it wasn’t until Atonement that I actually heard any of their music. So, when the call for a ranking came in, I saw an excellent opportunity to dive deeply into a storied discography and see what I’ve been missing.

#11. Harnessing Ruin (2005) — While comparably unremarkable, even the bottom end of this list is still good. The truth is, Immolation has never put out a bad album. With such a consistent base quality, placing albums in a numbered order became a game of sudden death. The nail in the coffin for Harnessing Ruin? The whispering vocals on “Dead to Me” and “Son of Iniquity.”

#10 Unholy Cult (2002) — How the hell do you follow up Close to a World Below? By comparison—and even in isolation—Unholy Cult feels lackluster and unremarkable. I’d likely still recognize most of this as Immolation in a playlist, and it’s still very solid death metal by any measure, but there’s precious little here that demands my attention or elevates it above background music. Additionally, pacing shifts, as on “Reluctant Messiah” and “Bring Them Down,” make it difficult to find a groove or flow through the album.

#9 Failures for Gods (1999) — The first three albums Immolation released are all, more or less, of a piece. Failures for Gods maintains much of the quality from earlier releases, from the searing, whiplash solo work and deep riffage of “No Jesus, No Beast” and “Failures for Gods” to the brooding, intimidating tone of “The Devil I Know.” There’s a bit of staleness that creeps into Failures for Gods, though. Aside from some odd, Spanish-inflected acoustic riffing on the title track, not much here stands out from their earlier work or in retrospect.

#8 Shadows in the Light (2007) — Immolation’s output through the mid-00s is, for me, their least engaging, but Shadows in the Light sees them begin to turn things around toward the high quality they’d been known for in the early years. The percussion on Shadows in the Light caught me by surprise, reminding me mightily of Slipknot’s self-titled. Steve Shalaty’s kit work feels alive and visceral, just itching to incite a riot. This holds especially true on “Passion Kill” and “Breathing the Dark.”

#7 Kingdom of Conspiracy (2013) — Kingdom of Conspiracy is an odd duck in Immolation’s discography. This 2013 release has proven divisive not only for its shift in theme,4 but for its notably clean production, as well. While I do appreciate the clarity and snappiness, it is a tad sterile. Ross Dolan’s vocals are hurt the most by this, making him sound toothless and tired. Highlights like “All That Awaits Us” and “God Complex” still hit hard, but as a whole, Kingdom of Conspiracy just doesn’t have the searing identity of records higher on this list.

#6 Here in After (1996) — Being the sophomore album is a tough break. The pressure’s on, expectations are high. Here in After largely holds the line and even improves on the debut in some ways—the title track and “Christ’s Cage” are absolute powerhouses, wielding the weight of worlds like feathers. That said, Here in After does not feel as compositionally tight or structurally sound as Dawn of Possession. Additionally, much of the solo work feels jarring and a skosh too chaotic for my sensibilities, especially on “Nailed to Gold” and “Burn with Jesus.”

#5 Majesty and Decay (2010) — A continuation of the upward shift in quality from Shadows in the Light, Majesty and Decay sees Immolation beginning to explore the more tempered, measured sound so prevalent in their contemporary output. Some tracks, like “A Thunderous Consequence” and “Power and Shame,” fall flat in their attempts to create atmosphere, but “Divine Code” and “A Glorious Epoch” show exactly how menacing and powerful Immolation can be and truly embody the title of the album.

#4 Dawn of Possession (1991) — This served as the standard by which all else was measured. Apocalyptic and vicious, Immolation’s debut was a revelation. There’s a ferocity on Dawn of Possession that only a young band eager to share their vision can produce. And in so doing, Immolation marred the tapestry forever. Injecting their relentless assault with streaks of virtuosity, Dawn of Possession became the bar not only for the band, but for thousands of inspired musicians in the decades since. Immolation has tweaked and tempered their blueprint in the 35 years since, but the core has always remained.

#3 Acts of God (2022) — I’m normally not a fan of intros, but “Abandoned” sets the stage perfectly for the brutal and utterly savage cudgeling to come. Fully returning to the unchecked hatred for Christians and their gods, Acts of God is contemptuous and caustic in way that hasn’t been heard since Close to a World Below. Most impressive here is Immolation’s success in merging the pomp and circumstance of their modern output with the rage of their early work. While not strictly their best release, Acts of God is a quintessential work, defining the true identity of Immolation.

#2 Close to a World Below (2000) — Already known for their malicious, uncompromising sound, Immolation cranks all the dials to eleven on Close to a World Below. It’s seething, it’s virulent, it’s fucking hostile. If this masterpiece ever lets up, it’s only to parade and mock the mangled corpse of Christ before grabbing a bigger hammer. Every second of this album drips with scorn, from the indictment of “Father, You’re Not a Father,” to the blasphemy of “Unpardonable Sin.” I get chills at the start of “Higher Coward” every fucking time, and they don’t go away until long after “Close to a World Below” fades out.

#1 Atonement (2017) — The first Immolation album I ever heard, Atonement still remains untouched. The imperial confidence and contempt—the sheer power—left me speechless, and I still return to it, nearly ten years later. Atonement is more atmospheric than much of their other work, but the result is a heretofore unknown level of weight and heft, no doubt aided by its more vibrant and textured production. Like the change in the air before a coming storm, Atonement feels like a harbinger of ruin, and at times like the disaster itself. Barns burn on tracks like “Destructive Currents” and “Rise the Heretics,” but Immolation truly shines in patient malevolence. Highlights like “When the Jackals Come,” “Thrown to the Fire,” and “Lower” are in no rush to grind your bones to paste. Atonement is the full realization of what was hinted on Majesty and Decay, and it is breathtaking to behold.

Angry Metal Guy Staff Ranking

Thanks to the dark magic of profane arithmetic, we present the aggregate staff ranking below:

1. 1. Harnessing Ruin (2005)
   2. Shadows in the Light (2007)
   3. Kingdom of Conspiracy (2013)
   4. Failures for Gods (1999)
   5. Unholy Cult (2002)
   6. Dawn of Possession (1991)
   7. Majesty and Decay (2010)
   8. Here in After (1996)
   9. Acts of God (2022)
   10. Atonement (2017)
   11. Close to a World Below (2000)

For any ignorant, curious, or non-practicing heathens out there that need to bathe in the everlasting fire, look no further than AMG’s Immolation primer:



The life of the unpaid, overworked metal reviewer is not an easy one. The reviewing collective at AMG lurches from one new release to the next, errors and n00bs strewn in our wake. But what if, once in a while, the collective paused to take stock and consider the discography of those bands that shaped many a taste? What if multiple aspects of the AMG collective personality shared with the slavering masses their personal rankings of that discography, and what if the rest of the personality used a Google sheet some kind of dark magic to produce an official guide to, and an all-around definitive aggregated ranking of, that band’s entire discography? Well, if that happened, we imagine it would look something like this…

Formed in 1988, Immolation emerged shortly after death metal’s dawn of aggression. Alongside Incantation, Suffocation, and Mortician, Immolation cemented themselves as a cornerstone of New York’s death metal scene in the early 90s. Since then, the band has erected a kingdom of consistency, releasing cut after unholy cut of complex arrangements, unwavering hostility, and anti-religious ruminations about the failures of gods. Key to Immolation’s dependable, high-quality output are mainstays bassist/vocalist Ross Dolan and guitarist Robert Vigna, who have both been with the band since inception. Even Immolation’s other members prove steadfast, with drummer Steve Shalaty searing skins since 2003 and Alex Bouks lending his axe since 2016. Through eleven full-length releases, Immolation has proven that their ability to harness ruin and forge death metal majesty is nigh unparalleled.

With twelfth album Descent arriving soon, staffers old and new clamored to share their opinions on how Immolation’s back catalog stacks up. Unlike rankings mostly prescribed by overwhelming consensus on their highs and lows, Immolation presents a discography with nothing to atone for, providing fertile ground for healthy, well-considered discourse. Without further ado, then, let’s put our ears to the door of a world below and divine these diabolical rankings!

– Grin Reaper

The Rankings

Grin Reaper

In my book, nobody does pure death metal better than Immolation. More consistent than Suffocation and Incantation and more uncompromising than Morbid Angel and Cryptopsy,1 Immolation scoffs at AMG’s Law of Diminishing Recordings™ as they reign atop an unimpeachable discography that lacks a single turd. Seriously. The ‘worst’ album Immolation ever put out still rivals or surpasses the best from most other death metal outfits, and their indomitable march to dismantle the weak and unworthy entrenches them as one of my all-time favorite acts. Jesus wept—Immolation never fucking flinched.

#11. Harnessing Ruin (2005) — Something has to be last, and Harnessing Ruin gets my tap. Songwriting-wise, Immolation drops a strong effort with acerbically grim leads and a rousing introduction to new drummer Steve Shalaty. Guitars supply the album highlights—from the gnarled riffing in “Our Savior Sleeps” and the sludgy sway on “Son of Iniquity” to the scalding solo on “Dead to Me,” Bob Vigna and Bill Taylor sizzle with hell’s fire across Harnessing Ruin. Unfortunately, the album’s production holds it back, and the muffled mix lacks the bite of Unholy Cult. Also, the longest songs cluster at the end, dragging the back half a touch.

#10. Kingdom of Conspiracy (2013) — Kingdom of Conspiracy just ekes ahead of Harnessing Ruin, clocking three minutes briefer despite having one more track. To my ears, Kingdom of Conspiracy features Immolation’s brightest, most modern production. This offers a boon to Dolan’s grating growls and the tormented guitar tandem of Vigna and Taylor, but it also buries the bass and pushes the drums further away from the dead corpse smacks that characterize my favorite Immolation bass drum tones. As one might expect from the bottom end of such an excellent discography, Kingdom of Conspiracy does little wrong, but lacks the heretical heft that defines Immolation’s best material.

#9. Shadows in the Light (2007) — Concluding what I consider Immolation’s middle period, Shadows in the Light chronologically bridges their weakest link, Harnessing Ruin, and powerhouse Nuclear Blast debut, Majesty and Decay. Shadows in the Light drastically improves on Harnessing Ruin’s production, wading out of the former’s forlorn pall and laying down brimstone-tinged bangers like one-two punch “Passion Kill” and “World Agony.” A sense of immediacy pervades Shadows that, while not lacking in the lowest-ranked albums, burns even hotter here, filling its forty minutes with writhing leads and furious drumming that typifies what Immolation does so damned well.

#8. Failures for Gods (1999) — Failures for Gods falling to #8 proves just how potent Immolation’s discography is, as the album would be a crown jewel in countless other discographies. On the surface, Failures for Gods has everything Immolation fans could ask for: punishing grooves, tortured guitars, and vocals that could command the armies of hell. Despite that, Failures for Gods feels like it holds back from the devastating offensive that would launch a year later, instead rehashing rather than progressing what Immolation accomplished on their first two albums. Still, Failures introduced drummer Alex Hernandez, and though his masterstrokes would be heard on Close, songs like “God Made Filth” and “The Devil I Know” heralded the storm to come.

#7. Dawn of Possession (1991) — Pure fucking evil rarely sounds this intoxicating. Steeped in an unpolished production that’s coarse yet clear, Dawn of Possession hooks ears and souls alike, flaying them with its hellish implements. Though it’s Immolation’s most straightforward album, tracks like “Into Everlasting Fire, “Those Left Behind,” and “Immolation” exemplify why suburban mothers clutch their pearls when they happen upon their precious babes listening to death metal. Dawn of Possession was my entry point for Immolation, and it encompasses everything the band offers without guile. I still recommend it for the uninitiated, particularly those who enjoy straight-up OSDM with a side of heresy.

#6. Unholy Cult (2002) — Where Failures for Gods luxuriates in gloomy menace and Close to a World Below reeks of sulfurous damnation, Unholy Cult blurs the line between the two. Starting with a slow build on opener “Of Martyrs and Men,” Unholy Cult careens between ominous drawls and infernal fervor with a substantially improved production over Immolation’s 90s output. “Unholy Cult” remains the second-longest song these death peddlers have penned, and it looms large, rooted in the front half of the album. From there, the tracks rumble and blitz up to closer “Bring Them Down,” a funky barnburner that highlights Dolan’s basswork amidst Immolation’s blazing backdrop.

#5. Majesty and Decay (2010) — Immolation unleashed a juggernaut for their first platter with Nuclear Blast. Blistering, contemplative, and brimming with moldering melody, Majesty and Decay swats with the divine laze of a celestial being, uncoiling at its leisure but devastating in its wrath once roused. Tracks like “A Glorious Epoch” and “The Rapture of Ghosts” toe this line, where beefy chugs pound beneath soaring, anthemic guitars. Meanwhile, the likes of “The Purge” and “A Token of Malice” hit with the force of a thunderclap, unrelenting in their fury. I originally had Majesty and Decay in the same tier as Atonement and Acts of God, but the busy mix and unimaginatively titled “Intro” and “Interlude” hold it back.2

#4. Atonement (2017) — With no song running past the five-minute mark, Atonement exhibits Immolation’s dedication to excising the fat and gristle. Vigna’s crooked leads and crushing riffs mesh perfectly with new guitarist Alex Bouks’ calculated anarchy, and together they synchronize in exquisite harmony. Along with Majesty and Decay, Atonement might be the closest Immolation comes to achieving accessibility. Typically, my favorite straight-up death metal furnishes little room for nuance, and though Immolation doesn’t have a reputation for subtlety, Atonement expertly doles out moments of relief (the end of “When the Jackals Come,” the intro to “Lower”) that almost lull you into safety before the bottom drops out and sends you to hell.

#3. Acts of God (2022) — When I first saw Immolation flaunting fifteen tracks totaling over fifty minutes, I thought their best days were behind them. Bloat is never a good sign, particularly from a band with such a pristine track record. I happily resign to being wrong, though, as Acts of God not only subverted but demolished my expectations. Immolation’s allure lies in the intricacies of their music. Dolan’s patristic admonishment of humanity, Vigna and Bouks’ serpentine noodling, and Shalaty’s tempestuous brutalization of the kit define the band’s sound, yet here the music is more direct and urgent than ever. Rather than missing any beats, Immolation sounds ruinously revitalized.

#2. Here in After (1996) — Though not a significant shift away from Dawn of Possession, Immolation struck nails to gold with Here in After. Compared to later releases, Here in After radiates a few extra degrees of chaos, with deranged soloing that reminds of Slayer’s vision of hell and a slightly more impassioned vocal performance from Dolan. To be clear, his vocals are one of my favorite aspects of Immolation’s sound, and his matter-of-fact, comprehensible gutturals against such malicious metal engenders wonderful drama. The edge to his voice on “Nails to Gold” and “Christ’s Cage” adds a dimension of metaphysical dread that is the chef’s kiss throughout Here in After’s inflamed impiety.

#1. Close to a World Below (2000) — I can’t fathom any other Immolation album topping this blasphemous bonanza than Close to a World Below. Opening with my favorite Immolation track “Higher Coward,” the album bursts forth with an unapologetic eruption of sinuous guitars, vicious growls, and an unyielding onslaught by drummer Alex Hernandez. The drum tones alone deserve a spotlight, but the cataclysmic bombardment of stick on skin violence stops me dead in my tracks anytime one of Close to a World Below’s songs pops up. Immolation distills the essence of what worked so well on previous albums and folds those layers into a perfect performance across eight insidiously immaculate tracks. “Father, You’re Not a Father,” “Unpardonable Sin,” and the closing title track resonate with especially inspired performances, but the entirety of Close to a World Below boils over with the most unhinged and malignant performance of Immolation’s career. Being damned never sounded so Iconic.

Lavender Larcenist

#11. Harnessing Ruin (2005) — Immolation does not have a bad album, but Harnessing Ruin feels like a band chugging along in a bit of an in-between space. The production is muddled here, especially after Unholy Cult and Close to a World Below, but “Our Savior Sleeps” still retains that Immolation heft while “At Mourning’s Twilight” is an inspired closer with an incredible solo at the midpoint. Harnessing Ruin would be the best album of many other bands’ careers, but it is only a lower-tier album for a band as storied as Immolation.

#10. Shadows in the Light (2007) — Shadows in the Light follows Harnessing Ruin in terms of feeling like a band spinning its wheels (as much as a band as talented as Immolation can). Even then, “Passion Kill” is a classic Immolation track with an incredible breakdown that will make a fan out of any listener. “World Agony” follows with a dissonant wailing riff backing as it drops headfirst into a rolling bulldozer of a track. Unfortunately, there isn’t much else to Shadows in the Light that helps it stand out amongst the rest of Immolation’s discography, but it still makes for a solid death metal record with some memorable tracks that have stood the test of time.

#9. Failures for Gods (1999) — Failures for Gods is a solid album that is no slouch in the songwriting department, but it is marred by some truly busted production. Everything feels muddy, oddly loud, and compressed at the same time. “No Jesus, No Beast” is a monster, and the title track features that classic evil tone that becomes so apparent in late-stage Immolation, but the production handicaps this album at every turn. Great songwriting goes a long way, but in a race this tight, poor production brings Failures for Gods low.

#8. Kingdom of Conspiracy (2013) — Kingdom of Conspiracy shaves off a bit of Majesty and Decay’s technicality to its detriment. It is the closest Immolation has come to creating an album that is more groove than tech. As a result, it is probably one of their more approachable records, but it is the weakest of their current era. “Keep the Silence” is a monster of a track, and Kingdom has more than enough material to make it worth a listen. I think this is an album more fans should revisit, and newbies should start with, because it is hooky, heavy, and groovy in ways that will tickle your evil organ.

#7. Dawn of Possession (1991) — Dawn of Possession is an incredible debut from a band that is clearly young and ready to fuck the world up. Robert Vigna’s trademark style is immediately apparent, and Immolation’s blend of groove, dizzying technicality, and evil vibes is on display out of the gate. Craig Smilowski’s drumming is absurd in its rhythm and technical flourishes, but the album lacks the atmosphere that Immolation became famous for later in their career. Dawn of Possession is a fantastic debut that is only brought down by the extent to which its tracks bleed together. Something Immolation struggles with throughout their career.

#6. Here in After (1996) — Here in After sees the band refine their skills and write tighter songs that hit harder while adding just a little dash of that trademark Immolation vibe. The groove is starting to creep in, and tracks like “Christ’s Cage” showcase the band playing with the truly evil tone that pervades their most recent work. Album opener “Nailed to Gold” is a classic for the band, and Here in After is a quintessential Immolation album. Ross Dolan’s vocals have switched from Dawn’s nastier tone to his trademark bellow, and Vigna’s pirouetting shredwork is here to stay. Here in After is Immolation in classic form.

#5. Close to a World Below (2000) — Opening with “Higher Coward”, Close to a World Below starts on a high note and never stops delivering. The production foibles of Failures are ironed out, and Immolation sounds like a band ready to bulldoze society. “Unpardonable Sin” is as heavy as it is frantic with its switches back and forth between dissonant groove and face-melting speed. “Lost Passion” crescendos into trademark Immolation wankery in the best way, but Close to a World Below still suffers from some odd production. Dolan’s vocals feel slightly different track to track, but this is an album with some of Immolation’s best songs to date.

#4. Unholy Cult (2002) — Something about Unholy Cult just clicks for me. “Of Martyrs and Men” is that pure, wonderful, evil shit. After an explosive intro, the track moves into one of Immolation’s most crushing riffs. The title track is a slice of hell in a way the band hasn’t played with since “Christ’s Cage”, an eight-minute epic that is as catchy as it is devastating. Vigna flips from this vibrato-tremolo guitar riff right into an all-out assault and back to massive Immolation grooves without a hitch. Unholy Cult is stuffed with great tracks and feels like a first step towards the second half of Immolation’s career, where atmosphere and groove hold more sway over pure technicality.

#3. Majesty and Decay (2010) — Majesty and Decay is where modern Immolation comes into full form. Part truly diabolical atmosphere, part neutron star heavy, all technical and groovy as hell. “Intro” gives listeners a glimpse into the band’s future. “A Glorious Epoch” has one of the best riffs, basically ever, making for a track that gets my blood boiling without fail. “A Token of Malice” is astounding in its technicality while being a freight train of destruction with Vigna riding shotgun. Majesty and Decay is also the best Immolation has sounded up to this point, where the production finally feels consistent, clear, and absolutely brutal.

#2. Atonement (2017) — Likely an album that will grace the top tier on every list, Atonement feels like the quintessential Immolation album. If I were to introduce the band to anyone, I would probably start here. “When the Jackals Come” is one of the band’s best tracks, and “Lower” is just astounding in how brutal Immolation still is decades later. It also keeps things at a slim and trim forty-four minutes, and album closer “Epiphany” puts a perfect bow on this devil baby. There isn’t a track worth skipping on Atonement, a feat made all the more impressive when it is a band ten albums into their career.

#1. Acts of God (2022) — Where do I start with Acts of God? To me, it is the perfect combination of creativity, groove, technicality, and that evil Immolation sound we have come to know and cherish. As one of Immolation’s longest albums, you would think the well has run dry, but the intro “Abandoned” and interlude “And The Flames Wept” add so much cohesion to the album and drape the entire affair in a veil of depravity. Acts of God features some of Immolation’s biggest and baddest riffs, while also pushing their atmosphere to new heights. Their most evil album, their most creative, and maybe even their heaviest. “Noose of Thorns” is led by a diabolical descending riff that drops into high-pitched tapping that sets the tone so well you can’t help but feel pulled by hell’s destructive currents. “Immoral Stain” is dripping with malice; you can hear it seep into every riff and lyric. “Let the Darkness In” features a bouncing, infectious groove that immediately flips into Vigna’s trademark dissonant wails. Acts of God is Immolation’s magnum opus in every sense, and somehow my favorite album by a band that feels like they can do no wrong.

Mark Z.

Immolation feel like old friends. I discovered them early in my extreme metal journey and was immediately captivated by Bob Vigna’s unconventional riffing style and Ross Dolan’s commanding (and surprisingly comprehensible) growl. No matter what’s happened in the metal scene, it’s always been comforting to know that Immolation have been there, touring relentlessly while consistently delivering their trademark brand of dissonant death metal and never releasing a true dud. In the world of old school death metal, they’re the one band I could always count on. Because of that, they’ll always have a special place in my ever-blackening heart.

#11. Shadows in the Light (2007) — Not a bad album, just a relatively bland one. While there are some inspired ideas, most of the tracks have little of the dark atmosphere or interesting songwriting found on their earlier material. Nonetheless, it’s a testament to Immolation’s quality that even their worst album still has stuff as good as the lumbering grooves of “Passion Kill” or the growl-along catchiness of “World Agony,” which is one of the group’s best songs.

#10. Harnessing Ruin (2005) — Arguably Immolation’s most accessible album, Harnessing Ruin shows them trying to find their place in the mid-2000s death metal scene by writing some more direct songs than usual. Just like with Shadows in the Light, however, this album sags in its back half and lacks the darkness or quality of the first few records. There’s good stuff here, but this record also feels bleak and oddly dated, possibly due to the generic mid-2000s artwork, plain production job, or the misguided use of whispered vocals in “Dead to Me” and “Son of Iniquity.”

#9. Kingdom of Conspiracy (2013) — The fucking drums, man. The drum sound here is borderline overbearing, and given that this record is already pretty fast, the overall experience is a relentless and punishing one that largely crushes nuance beneath the heel of its boot. Fortunately, the riffing is still strong, and the album’s generally fast nature makes the slower, commanding marches of “Keep the Silence” and “All That Awaits Us” hit all the harder.

#8. Majesty and Decay (2010) — After a relatively lackluster era in the mid-2000s, Immolation signed to Nuclear Blast and seemed hell-bent on redemption with Majesty and Decay. Compared to its immediate predecessors, this record has an improved production job, more dynamic songwriting, and a better sense of structure (with the band employing an intro track and interlude for the first time). While the title track’s Gateways to Annihilation vibes make it one of the band’s best slower songs, the album as a whole would be better if some of the weaker tracks were shaved off and a few others were tightened up a bit.

#7. Acts of God (2022) — This is a very good album with two main issues: It’s too long, and it has the misfortune of having to follow up Atonement. Not even an Immolation album needs to be 52 minutes long, and compared to its predecessor, the production is stuffier and the songs aren’t as strong. As a whole, however, this is still a blasphemous good time that maintains a consistently high level of quality throughout, with “The Age of No Light” and “Overtures of the Wicked” being especially powerful cuts.

#6. Unholy Cult (2002) — Immolation’s fifth album represents a bridge between the apocalyptic malevolence of their early material and the polished hostility of their later work. It’s also potentially their most vicious and chaotic release, with the opening track “Of Martyrs and Men” even featuring some borderline-mathcore riffs. While at times tough to untangle, Unholy Cult ultimately succeeds as a 41-minute shrapnel blast of ideas that somehow combines the epic and the violent into an utterly compelling whole.

#5. Failures for Gods (1999) — The start of Immolation’s long partnership with producer Paul Orofino, Failures for Gods is held back a bit by his lack of prior experience with death metal, with the bass drums sounding like bouncing basketballs. Stylistically and structurally, however, this is essentially Here in After Part II, with twisted and brooding compositions that vary between being grandiose and cutthroat. While a bit front-loaded, Failures is still a brilliant record. In a just world, “No Jesus, No Beast” would be the closer at every Immolation show.

#4. Dawn of Possession (1991) — Immolation’s debut essentially gave their death-thrash demo tracks a murkier production job and placed them alongside newer songs that would hint at the band’s dissonance to come. As such, Dawn of Possession is the most traditional death metal album in the band’s catalog while also being one of the most distinct and stylistically diverse. While Bob Vigna would only improve as a songwriter from here, Dawn’s numerous classic tracks and otherworldly sense of blasphemy make it easy to love, warts and all.

#3. Atonement (2017) — How the fuck is this album so good? Late-career albums aren’t supposed to be this good, but this is the rare lightning-strike release where everything hits just right: the production, the songwriting, the performances, and even the cover art (which marks the return of the band’s classic logo). It’s like they found a way to increase the quality of everything while sacrificing nothing, resulting in a record that’s powerful yet understated, hooky yet stuffed with riffs, and listenable yet extreme. It may be slightly front-loaded, but it’s still one of my favorite death metal albums of the 2010s.

#2. Here in After (1996) — Arriving five years after their debut, Here in After shows Immolation truly coming into their own, with Bob Vigna’s dark, dissonant arrangements and Ross Dolan’s menacing, intelligible growl both emerging in full force. The improved songwriting is apparent right from the flawless opener, “Nailed to Gold,” which could be one of the Top 10 death metal songs ever. While the twisted structures that follow are less immediately accessible, it all eventually coalesces into a masterfully crafted whole, demonstrating a keen sense of flow and diversity while exuding a timeless, unheavenly darkness that only Immolation could conjure.

#1. Close to a World Below (2000) — There are certain albums so good that they transcend not only their own band’s discography, but also the rest of their genre. Close to a World Below is one of those albums. Never before or since has an album sounded so much like being in hell, with a suffocating and merciless production job that somehow still allows every note to be heard in all its unholy glory. Drummer Alex Hernandez delivers a once-in-a-career performance that sounds like he’s bashing every part of his kit at once, and Bob Vigna somehow manages to write his catchiest material while still delivering riffs more warped than ever. The record also has one of the best openings of all time, with a sullen voice asking, “Didn’t you say. . . Jesus was coming?” before a blasting onslaught tramples any hope of ever making it to heaven. Fukk it, send me below!

Spicie Forrest

Having begun my metal journey in nü territory, there are holes in my metallic knowledge you could drive a commercial truck through.3 While Immolation has long been a name vaguely known to me, it wasn’t until Atonement that I actually heard any of their music. So, when the call for a ranking came in, I saw an excellent opportunity to dive deeply into a storied discography and see what I’ve been missing.

#11. Harnessing Ruin (2005) — While comparably unremarkable, even the bottom end of this list is still good. The truth is, Immolation has never put out a bad album. With such a consistent base quality, placing albums in a numbered order became a game of sudden death. The nail in the coffin for Harnessing Ruin? The whispering vocals on “Dead to Me” and “Son of Iniquity.”

#10 Unholy Cult (2002) — How the hell do you follow up Close to a World Below? By comparison—and even in isolation—Unholy Cult feels lackluster and unremarkable. I’d likely still recognize most of this as Immolation in a playlist, and it’s still very solid death metal by any measure, but there’s precious little here that demands my attention or elevates it above background music. Additionally, pacing shifts, as on “Reluctant Messiah” and “Bring Them Down,” make it difficult to find a groove or flow through the album.

#9 Failures for Gods (1999) — The first three albums Immolation released are all, more or less, of a piece. Failures for Gods maintains much of the quality from earlier releases, from the searing, whiplash solo work and deep riffage of “No Jesus, No Beast” and “Failures for Gods” to the brooding, intimidating tone of “The Devil I Know.” There’s a bit of staleness that creeps into Failures for Gods, though. Aside from some odd, Spanish-inflected acoustic riffing on the title track, not much here stands out from their earlier work or in retrospect.

#8 Shadows in the Light (2007) — Immolation’s output through the mid-00s is, for me, their least engaging, but Shadows in the Light sees them begin to turn things around toward the high quality they’d been known for in the early years. The percussion on Shadows in the Light caught me by surprise, reminding me mightily of Slipknot’s self-titled. Steve Shalaty’s kit work feels alive and visceral, just itching to incite a riot. This holds especially true on “Passion Kill” and “Breathing the Dark.”

#7 Kingdom of Conspiracy (2013) — Kingdom of Conspiracy is an odd duck in Immolation’s discography. This 2013 release has proven divisive not only for its shift in theme,4 but for its notably clean production, as well. While I do appreciate the clarity and snappiness, it is a tad sterile. Ross Dolan’s vocals are hurt the most by this, making him sound toothless and tired. Highlights like “All That Awaits Us” and “God Complex” still hit hard, but as a whole, Kingdom of Conspiracy just doesn’t have the searing identity of records higher on this list.

#6 Here in After (1996) — Being the sophomore album is a tough break. The pressure’s on, expectations are high. Here in After largely holds the line and even improves on the debut in some ways—the title track and “Christ’s Cage” are absolute powerhouses, wielding the weight of worlds like feathers. That said, Here in After does not feel as compositionally tight or structurally sound as Dawn of Possession. Additionally, much of the solo work feels jarring and a skosh too chaotic for my sensibilities, especially on “Nailed to Gold” and “Burn with Jesus.”

#5 Majesty and Decay (2010) — A continuation of the upward shift in quality from Shadows in the Light, Majesty and Decay sees Immolation beginning to explore the more tempered, measured sound so prevalent in their contemporary output. Some tracks, like “A Thunderous Consequence” and “Power and Shame,” fall flat in their attempts to create atmosphere, but “Divine Code” and “A Glorious Epoch” show exactly how menacing and powerful Immolation can be and truly embody the title of the album.

#4 Dawn of Possession (1991) — This served as the standard by which all else was measured. Apocalyptic and vicious, Immolation’s debut was a revelation. There’s a ferocity on Dawn of Possession that only a young band eager to share their vision can produce. And in so doing, Immolation marred the tapestry forever. Injecting their relentless assault with streaks of virtuosity, Dawn of Possession became the bar not only for the band, but for thousands of inspired musicians in the decades since. Immolation has tweaked and tempered their blueprint in the 35 years since, but the core has always remained.

#3 Acts of God (2022) — I’m normally not a fan of intros, but “Abandoned” sets the stage perfectly for the brutal and utterly savage cudgeling to come. Fully returning to the unchecked hatred for Christians and their gods, Acts of God is contemptuous and caustic in way that hasn’t been heard since Close to a World Below. Most impressive here is Immolation’s success in merging the pomp and circumstance of their modern output with the rage of their early work. While not strictly their best release, Acts of God is a quintessential work, defining the true identity of Immolation.

#2 Close to a World Below (2000) — Already known for their malicious, uncompromising sound, Immolation cranks all the dials to eleven on Close to a World Below. It’s seething, it’s virulent, it’s fucking hostile. If this masterpiece ever lets up, it’s only to parade and mock the mangled corpse of Christ before grabbing a bigger hammer. Every second of this album drips with scorn, from the indictment of “Father, You’re Not a Father,” to the blasphemy of “Unpardonable Sin.” I get chills at the start of “Higher Coward” every fucking time, and they don’t go away until long after “Close to a World Below” fades out.

#1 Atonement (2017) — The first Immolation album I ever heard, Atonement still remains untouched. The imperial confidence and contempt—the sheer power—left me speechless, and I still return to it, nearly ten years later. Atonement is more atmospheric than much of their other work, but the result is a heretofore unknown level of weight and heft, no doubt aided by its more vibrant and textured production. Like the change in the air before a coming storm, Atonement feels like a harbinger of ruin, and at times like the disaster itself. Barns burn on tracks like “Destructive Currents” and “Rise the Heretics,” but Immolation truly shines in patient malevolence. Highlights like “When the Jackals Come,” “Thrown to the Fire,” and “Lower” are in no rush to grind your bones to paste. Atonement is the full realization of what was hinted on Majesty and Decay, and it is breathtaking to behold.

Angry Metal Guy Staff Ranking

Thanks to the dark magic of profane arithmetic, we present the aggregate staff ranking below:

1. 1. Harnessing Ruin (2005)
   2. Shadows in the Light (2007)
   3. Kingdom of Conspiracy (2013)
   4. Failures for Gods (1999)
   5. Unholy Cult (2002)
   6. Dawn of Possession (1991)
   7. Majesty and Decay (2010)
   8. Here in After (1996)
   9. Acts of God (2022)
   10. Atonement (2017)
   11. Close to a World Below (2000)

For any ignorant, curious, or non-practicing heathens out there that need to bathe in the everlasting fire, look no further than AMG’s Immolation primer:



Summer Slaughter 2026 returns with Hatebreed, Devourment, Incantation, and more:

#SummerSlaughter #Hatebreed #Devourment #Incantation

Link: https://metalinsider.net/touring/summer-slaughter-2026-returns-with-hatebreed-devourment-incantation-and-more

Although Calgary isn’t exactly a hotbed for death metal, the city hosts a healthy mix of metal acts. Hazzerd, Mares of Thrace, and Riot City call the Canadian city home, as does death metal troupe Cultist. Formed in 2015, the band recorded debut full-length Manic Despair in 2020. It took over a year to release the album, which finally hit shelves in early 2022. Four later, the Cowtown collective returns with follow-up Spiritual Atrophy, primed with half-an-hour of vintage death metal vitriol to proselytize you into brain-bludgeoned bondage. Does Cultist slip you some spiritual healing, or will Spiritual Atrophy have you asking for the Kool-Aid?

Fans of Manic Despair will quickly recognize that Spiritual Atrophy marks a new chapter in Cultist’s sound. Bassist/vocalist Vanessa Grossberndt and drummer Jim Petigo have been consistent fixtures in the band’s lineup over the last six years, but there’s been a revolving door for guitarists since Brodie Wylie left the band in 2021.1 Whether by design or just a byproduct of altered chemistry, Spiritual Atrophy forsakes the arcane mystique of Manic Despair and instead adopts a more straightforward attack, focusing on riffs and repetition over mood and tension. Where Cultist’s debut leans toward Incantation or Autopsy, Spiritual Atrophy more closely echoes the likes of Morbid Angel and Immolation. Even the album art recalls Unholy Cult with Harnessing Ruin’s color palette. Despite using a similar bag of tricks as legendary DM stalwarts, though, Cultist’s latest feels more like a retread of what you’ve heard before rather than constructing a fresh take upon proven elements.

Spiritual Atrophy by CULTIST

Where the rhythm section shaped Cultist’s identity on Manic Despair, Spiritual Atrophy sacrifices drum ‘n’ bass thunder for the almighty riff. New guitarist Betzi Poitras hews leaden earworms with razor-sharp riffing, and in isolation poses a promising new direction. Comprehensively, though, her barbed cuts bleed out the magic that defined Manic Despair. This alone isn’t damning, as the urge to reinvent and evolve is as natural as Steel’s back hair. Unfortunately, the replacement magic manifests as a finely-crafted routine we’ve seen countless times before, and fails to maintain intrigue as Cultist’s hand dips into the careworn, upturned top hat time and again. Grossberndt‘s bass still rumbles and bounces with occasional spotlights (“Phenomena”), and her gutturals get augmented with contributions from Poitras and Petigo, broadening the vocal diversity. Although I prefer Grossberndt‘s deeper, most unhinged growls,2 I appreciate the expanded range. Meanwhile, Petigo’s drumming maintains the blast-beaten fury from the debut, but his progressive flourishes have dwindled, and the overall drum presence is too far back in the mix. It’s a shame, because Petigo’s contributions were previously a cornerstone of Cultist’s atmosphere, and Spiritual Atrophy suffers from his diminished role.

Listening to Spiritual Atrophy can be a frustrating experience, not just because of the step backwards in originality, but the missteps outweigh what Cultist does so well. In a vacuum, individual moments on Spiritual Atrophy burn with a corrosive glow. The central riff from “Reality Shaper” could be a lost cut from Domination or Close to a World Below, but over four-and-a-half minutes, the pointed, serpentine lick is filed to a nub through repetition. This over-dependence on the same or similar riffs (“Neophyte,” “Spiritual Atrophy”) kills momentum throughout, making active listens feel much longer than thirty minutes. Spiritual Atrophy’s two instrumentals also undercut the listening experience, with intro piece “Divination Whispers” building to a moment that never arrives. Interlude “Perversion of Survival” does the same, alluring with its promising, sci-fi oriented forty seconds, only to be jettisoned for a tune that’s entirely agnostic to the lead-in. The instrumentals are solid on their own, and don’t necessarily belong on the cutting room floor—I only wish they’d been integrated with more consideration.

Though I’m left disappointed with Cultist’s latest offering, promise lurks around Spiritual Atropy’s corners. Frantic, off-kilter riffs, tortured vocals, and bursts of scathing venom supply the building blocks for nasty death metal magic. If Cultist can refine their songwriting and add more depth to their soundscape, their next LP could convert the masses.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 319 kbps mp3
Label: Awakening Records/Futhark Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

Although Calgary isn’t exactly a hotbed for death metal, the city hosts a healthy mix of metal acts. Hazzerd, Mares of Thrace, and Riot City call the Canadian city home, as does death metal troupe Cultist. Formed in 2015, the band recorded debut full-length Manic Despair in 2020. It took over a year to release the album, which finally hit shelves in early 2022. Four later, the Cowtown collective returns with follow-up Spiritual Atrophy, primed with half-an-hour of vintage death metal vitriol to proselytize you into brain-bludgeoned bondage. Does Cultist slip you some spiritual healing, or will Spiritual Atrophy have you asking for the Kool-Aid?

Fans of Manic Despair will quickly recognize that Spiritual Atrophy marks a new chapter in Cultist’s sound. Bassist/vocalist Vanessa Grossberndt and drummer Jim Petigo have been consistent fixtures in the band’s lineup over the last six years, but there’s been a revolving door for guitarists since Brodie Wylie left the band in 2021.1 Whether by design or just a byproduct of altered chemistry, Spiritual Atrophy forsakes the arcane mystique of Manic Despair and instead adopts a more straightforward attack, focusing on riffs and repetition over mood and tension. Where Cultist’s debut leans toward Incantation or Autopsy, Spiritual Atrophy more closely echoes the likes of Morbid Angel and Immolation. Even the album art recalls Unholy Cult with Harnessing Ruin’s color palette. Despite using a similar bag of tricks as legendary DM stalwarts, though, Cultist’s latest feels more like a retread of what you’ve heard before rather than constructing a fresh take upon proven elements.

Spiritual Atrophy by CULTIST

Where the rhythm section shaped Cultist’s identity on Manic Despair, Spiritual Atrophy sacrifices drum ‘n’ bass thunder for the almighty riff. New guitarist Betzi Poitras hews leaden earworms with razor-sharp riffing, and in isolation poses a promising new direction. Comprehensively, though, her barbed cuts bleed out the magic that defined Manic Despair. This alone isn’t damning, as the urge to reinvent and evolve is as natural as Steel’s back hair. Unfortunately, the replacement magic manifests as a finely-crafted routine we’ve seen countless times before, and fails to maintain intrigue as Cultist’s hand dips into the careworn, upturned top hat time and again. Grossberndt‘s bass still rumbles and bounces with occasional spotlights (“Phenomena”), and her gutturals get augmented with contributions from Poitras and Petigo, broadening the vocal diversity. Although I prefer Grossberndt‘s deeper, most unhinged growls,2 I appreciate the expanded range. Meanwhile, Petigo’s drumming maintains the blast-beaten fury from the debut, but his progressive flourishes have dwindled, and the overall drum presence is too far back in the mix. It’s a shame, because Petigo’s contributions were previously a cornerstone of Cultist’s atmosphere, and Spiritual Atrophy suffers from his diminished role.

Listening to Spiritual Atrophy can be a frustrating experience, not just because of the step backwards in originality, but the missteps outweigh what Cultist does so well. In a vacuum, individual moments on Spiritual Atrophy burn with a corrosive glow. The central riff from “Reality Shaper” could be a lost cut from Domination or Close to a World Below, but over four-and-a-half minutes, the pointed, serpentine lick is filed to a nub through repetition. This over-dependence on the same or similar riffs (“Neophyte,” “Spiritual Atrophy”) kills momentum throughout, making active listens feel much longer than thirty minutes. Spiritual Atrophy’s two instrumentals also undercut the listening experience, with intro piece “Divination Whispers” building to a moment that never arrives. Interlude “Perversion of Survival” does the same, alluring with its promising, sci-fi oriented forty seconds, only to be jettisoned for a tune that’s entirely agnostic to the lead-in. The instrumentals are solid on their own, and don’t necessarily belong on the cutting room floor—I only wish they’d been integrated with more consideration.

Though I’m left disappointed with Cultist’s latest offering, promise lurks around Spiritual Atropy’s corners. Frantic, off-kilter riffs, tortured vocals, and bursts of scathing venom supply the building blocks for nasty death metal magic. If Cultist can refine their songwriting and add more depth to their soundscape, their next LP could convert the masses.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 319 kbps mp3
Label: Awakening Records/Futhark Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

Back in 2023, Brazilian death crew Fossilization dropped their Leprous Daylight debut on the unsuspecting world below, impressing Cherd in the process with its Incantation-esque blend of ghastly cavern crawling and 5-ton doomy digressions. He even went so far as to suggest it was superior to Incantation’s then-new platter Unholy Deification while generally singing the praises of preserved beast bone recovery. Fast-forward a few years, and the band’s sophomore release, Advent of Wounds, falls to me as Cherd has gone missing in a very nonsuspicious way that does NOT require police involvement or any half-assed internet sleuthing of any kind. So what do the two men behind Fossilization bring to the archaeology party this time? More raw, unvarnished spelunk-core full of horrific nods to Dead Congregation, Phobocosm, and of course, the esteemed Incanters of OSDM. It’s heavy, nasty, rough and raw, just as you want it. But is this mere imitation of genre archetypes or something that can stand on its own pale and deformed feet? Let’s turn on the headlamps and see what scurries away into the darkness.

Opener “Cremation of a Seraph” comes out blasting savagely before going full caverncore with scads of hideous trem-riffs that inspire menace and dread. This is the kind of relentlessly heavy, abrasive death metal that destabilizes your brain health, and it can peel the paint off the walls of the mental asylum you’ll eventually be confined in. Yes, their style will remind you of the genre bigs, and it’s hard to miss the influences as they slither up between the floorboards, but Fossilization is legitimately good at what they do, and this song will wreck your internal organs. Better still is the ginormously destructive “Disentombed and Reassembled by the Ages,” which is like the mutated offspring of Bolt Thrower, Asphyx, and Hate Eternal, who’s been fed a steady diet of elephant steroids and military-grade bath salts. It’s fucking ugly and oppressive, and I can’t get enough of this muck fuckery. The drums blast your face off as an unruly collection of skin-flaying riffs rip at you from all sides. It’s like a maelstrom of torment with no escape hatch, so you must endure the abuse. The tempos shift just when they should, offering doomier segments that make the faster parts bite all the harder. This is lethal shit.

While the remainder of Advent of Wounds is undeniably solid and skull-crushing, nothing equals the sheer intensity of the first 2 cuts. “Scalded by His Sacred Halo” pummels and pounds away, only to drop a killer doom segment that will oppress your life and deathstyle. “While the Light Lasts” delivers awkward, herky-jerky riff arrangements, and the song has a strong Novembers Doom vibe that I wouldn’t have expected. Overall, it’s the least killer track present, but not bad at all. The problem I have as Advent unspools is that the merely good stuff makes me want to slap on some prime Incantation or Immolation instead. This is skillfully done stuff, but it’s close enough to the genre greats to appear the lesser for the comparisons. At a trim 35 minutes, though, it’s not a challenge to get through, and the fact that the songs are all kept in the 3-5 minute range helps the album’s flow. I like the production here, which gives the drums a primal impact and the guitars exude the proper force and weight.

Masterminds V and Z deliver a truckload of vicious riffs that feel fierce and feral. The use of scathing trems is highly effective and adds a dark, dangerous edge to the material. A lot of these leads feel like they have a life of their own as they flop and slither on the cavern flooor instilling terror and revulsion. The vocals by V are appropriately raw, inhuman, and subterranean, providing ample awfulness and bile to the already unpleasant soundscapes. The drums occasionally lapse into unusual patterns, and this can sound out of place, but it provides a level of identity and interest to the overly familiar style Fossilization plies you with.

I’m a fan of the style heard on Advent of Wounds, and like Cherd before me, Fossilization have a lot of good things going for them. However, I think their debut packs a bigger, more consistent impact than this one does. There are great moments here that speak of huge potential, but too much of the album is merely good. I’ll keep my eyes on these cretins because they have something potent developing. I just hope they can harness it more completely next time and really shake up my skeletal system. Worth a loud investigation.



Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Everlasting Spew
Websites: facebook.com/fossilization | instagram.com/fossilizationprocess
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

The marriage of death and doom is a well-trodden path, but Malignant Aura’s 2022 debut proved they had quickly mastered the formula. Abysmal Misfortune is Draped Upon Me was a crushing blend of old-school death metal (OSDM) misery and funeral desolation, establishing the Australian quartet as another worthy addition to an already vibrant scene. Born from the collaborative interests of guitarist Chris Clark and vocalist Tim Smith, the project has quickly metastasized from its demo roots into a fully realized unit. Now a part of the Memento Mori roster, their sophomore effort, Where All of Worth Comes to Wither, arrives to push Malignant Aura out of the nether realm and into a world all their own.

Where All of Worth picks up where Abysmal Misfortune left off. Opening with a series of gongs, the title track’s Mournful Congregation of Peaceville Three-inspired languid melodies and somber refrains surrender to a plodding, tectonic drum beat. Though Malignant Aura could have merged this intro into the subsequent track, it successfully anchors the record’s slow-burn atmosphere. Elsewhere, “The Pathetic Festival” conjures the macabre spirit of Hooded Menace and OSDM legends Incantation. It stands out as the tighter and faster track of the bunch, while the remaining three tracks are massive—mostly exceeding ten minutes—weaving funeral doom’s glacial phrasing with incendiary OSDM grit. Malignant Aura’s strength lies in the interplay between Robertson’s articulate drumming and Smith’s visceral vocal performance. Smith’s cesspool of gutturals, gurgles (“Beneath a Crown of Anguish,” “The Pathetic Festival”), chokes (“The Pathetic Festival”), and “bleghs” (“Languishing in the Perpetual Mire”) are phenomenal, with Clark’s wailing guitars, titanic riffs, and processional melodies guiding his vocals through shifting and swirling movements.

Where All of Worth Comes to Wither by Malignant Aura

I usually groan when I see double-digit track times, but Malignant Aura navigates Where All of Worth’s unabridged structure with ease by prioritizing flow over sheer density. Treating length as a function of tension and release rather than piling on riffs, they rely on intentional pacing, dynamic restraint, and Robertson’s percussion-led transitions to maintain intrigue and momentum. Whether it’s through violent double bass ruptures (“Languishing in the Perpetual Mire”), sepulchral marches (“The Pathetic Festival”), or cascading, symmetrical fills (“An Abhorrent Path to Providence”), Robertson’s drumming ensures that Where All of Worth’s transitions never feel foreign or accidental. This makes the eventual catastrophic payoffs feel earned rather than obligatory, a key reason each song’s arc feels purposeful. Motifs recur, but they return with altered tempos, denser drumming, or heightened aggression. The constant push and pull between crawling doom passages with repeated fake-outs and sudden bursts of deathly speed prevents stagnation in “Languishing in the Perpetual Mire.” Additionally, the formidable “Beneath a Crown of Anguish” never feels bloated thanks to later sections reframing what came before. “Beneath a Crown of Anguish’s” finale particularly nails this approach, briefly pausing for a moment before slamming back in at halftime for a decisive, memorable ending. Overall, Malignant Aura’s songwriting either deepens atmosphere, increases tension, or reshapes ideas, making their sprawling compositions feel immersive rather than exhausting.

Malignant Aura has undoubtedly sharpened their funerary tools on Where All of Worth, yet the songwriting doesn’t always stick the landing. “An Abhorrent Path to Providence,” for instance, lacks the peaks and valleys of other songs, succumbing to an atmospheric plateau that reveals what happens when runtime exceeds inspiration. The track’s midsection outstays its welcome and, despite the quality of Robertson’s kit work, the track feels unnecessarily distended. Moreover, a solo that fails to echo the song’s morose essence hampers the finale of “Languishing in the Perpetual Mire.” Though a far more evocative lead follows—nearly masking the previous stumble—the song awkwardly dissolves into a fade-out. It’s a clumsy end for a song that deserved a far more monolithic conclusion. However, while these compositional fractures exist, the songwriting remains sharp enough to sustain the weight of Where All of Worth’s expansive crusade.

As my colleagues in the staff lounge can attest, Where All of Worth’s cold embrace initially enthralled me—frankly, I wouldn’t shut up about it. I was certain it would drag the Score Counter into the lifeless muck with ease. Yet, reviewing has a way of introducing irony. Upon further listening, the record leveled out more than I anticipated, causing it to just miss greatness. Nonetheless, Malignant Aura has crafted an undeniable winner here, offering a wealth of grim, doom-laden, and morbid textures that will more than satisfy doom and death fans alike.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Memento Mori | Grindhead/Primitive Moth
Websites: malignant-aura.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/MalignantAura
Releases Worldwide: January 26th, 2026

Five years ago, I highlighted Invictus’ 2020 debut LP Catacombs of Fear as part of our year-end death metal roundup feature. Since then, the Japanese death metal trio toiled under the ground with a brutal live schedule and steadily wrote what might very well be my most highly anticipated follow-up in the death metal realm. Hot on the heels of killer releases from personal favorites like Depravity, and jumping just ahead of another highly anticipated salvo from Eximperitus, Invictus’ upcoming Nocturnal Visions has big shoes to fill and stiff competition to combat. But if anybody has the chops and the balls to do it, it’s Invictus.

Having only one previous album and a few scattered demos/singles to their name, Invictus haven’t messed with their formula very much since their inception. Boasting a killer combo of Demolition Hammer nastiness and Consuming Impulse-era Pestilence attack, Nocturnal Visions pushes 35 minutes of pure adrenaline. Nary a second faffs about with filler, fluffy atmosphere, or anything else that could be construed as something other than devout reverence to The Almighty Riff™. With each twist of phrase or shift in movement, guitarist/vocalist Takehitopsy Seki tears through an unrelenting assault of intense grooves, speedy thrashes, and writhing rhythms that don’t just open up pits, but rather rip open dimensional rifts straight to hell itself (“Altar of Devoted Slaughter,” “Wandering Ashdream”). Instead of relying on blasts for intensity, Haruki Tokutake’s percussive strategy focuses on machine-gun double-bass runs and thrashy skanks so brutally exacted upon my spine that I needed a back brace and headgear just to approach the second half—accommodations which in no way deterred my summary bodily encrushment (“Persecution Madness”). Bassist Toshihiro Seki clunks and clangs beneath the surface with a violent, hammering tone that, while not always as audible as it ought to be, nonetheless deepens the tonal quality of the record’s warm, slightly swampy production (“Nocturnal Visions”). Unlike many of those acts from whom Invictus draws inspiration, Seki’s vocals operate squarely inside the Incantation/Tomb Mold school of subterranean monstrosity. Counterintuitively, this sets the trio apart from their influences by hiding in plain sight with their contemporaries.

Nocturnal Visions by Invictus

Regardless of where you fall in the greater scope of metallic fandom, Nocturnal Visions is a magnificent showcase of energetic songwriting and devastating hookcraft. While the formula opener proper “Abyssal Earth Eradicates” utilizes feels and sounds familiar, Invictus executes it with a youthfulness, voracity, and dare I say exuberance that makes me forget for a moment the entirety of death metal’s history. As Nocturnal Visions progresses through its early movements, boasting killer tracks in “Altar of Devoted Slaughter,” “Lucid Dream Trauma,” and “Persecution Madness,” my ability to care about anything other than banging my head, grimacing like a gargoyle, and stomping my poor abused feet against the floor vanishes. What’s left is a mind-broken sponge reduced to primal instincts, with a vocabulary of one word, “Fuck!” exclaimed exclusively with each new swaggering groove or pummeling riff. Even after several dozen spins, pit monsters “Persecution Madness,” “Dragged Beneath the Grave,” and later highlight “Wandering Ashdream” received such frequent and aggressive verbal confirmation of their sheer awesomeness and perpetual energy that my coworker had to perform a wellness check. Even the daunting eight-minute closer “Nocturnal Visions” earns its keep here, switching up themes and reprising refrains just enough to keep my interest up and my engagement high.

That doesn’t leave much room for negatives, and indeed, few found purchase in my evaluation. Obviously, Nocturnal Visions exhibits nothing new or innovative; it’s simply doing classic death metal far better than most. Consequently, Invictus left some creativity and novelty on the table. They could easily pick up bits and bobs from that stack of potential ideas and bring an extra dimension to future efforts without sacrificing their core sound. Additionally, pacing Nocturnal Visions at such a blistering rate of speed so consistently across 35 minutes leaves a little to be desired in the way of songwriting dynamics. Tokutake in particular makes the most of his arsenal of patterns, fills, and tumbles to alleviate this condition, but not quite enough to cure it—see the otherwise ripping “Frozen Tomb.” Seki’s somewhat one-note vocal approach doesn’t always help matters in that respect, but his performance is rock-solid and dependable enough not to hurt either.

Of course, these critiques amount to mere nitpicks in the truest sense of the term. Nocturnal Visions is, simply put, a staggering monument to old-school death molded for the modern era. Invictus blasted my skull apart with their debut, but this sophomore effort is more than a worthy successor. Hear it!

Rating: Great!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ojo Records
Websites: invictus3.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Invictus
Releases Worldwide: January 26th, 2026

For over 30 years, Casket has been a reliable—if slow and not terribly well-known—source of classic death metal. Originally forming as a four-piece in Reutlingen, Germany in 1990, they released a slew of demos between 1992 and 1996 before releasing their debut, Under the Surface, in 1998. They’ve released something (demo, EP, or LP) every five years or so since then, and aside from paring down to a trio in 2007, not much has changed since the early days. Although they experimented with gothic/symphonic elements on 2017’s Unearthed, their fifth full-length sees Casket returning to form. In the Long Run We Are All Dead promises raw, basic death metal, diluted by neither time nor inferior metals. Is their barebones style still virile, or is it a relic best left in its bygone age?

Casket’s death metal may be barebones, but they’re damn good at it. With nary a note of warning, Casket hits the ground running on opener “The Will to Comply.” Vocalist/guitarist Schorsch launches beefy, retro riffs and vicious, descending tremolos while vomiting up chasm-deep vocals like slabs of cement grinding against each other. Casket’s skill and experience are painfully obvious as they rip through track after track of dumb, violent death metal. The low-end heft from Susi Z’s bass makes In the Long Run We Are All Dead feel more like blunt force trauma than a stabbing or a slashing, and drummer Marinko consistently provides just the right tools for his bandmates to inflict maximum damage. This is old school death metal played the way only the old guard knows how.

Hammer, Knife, Spade by CASKET

When I first saw that In the Long Run We Are All Dead boasted a whopping 11 tracks, I was worried it would overstay its welcome. Luckily, that’s not the case. Casket constantly shifts between various iterations of the old school formula. Incantation is the biggest touchstone here, but not the only one. The specter of Bolt Thrower lends its inexorable, crushing riffcraft to “Highest Thrones” and “Fundamental Rot,” and there’s a dash of punk woven throughout, largely driven by Marinko’s drumming (“Highest Thrones,” “Seeds of Desolation”). While Cannibal Corpse’s freneticism shows in tracks like “Hammer, Knife, Spade” and “Mainstream Mutilation,” much of In the Long Run We Are All Dead stalks along at a middle pace, trading speed for power and complementing Schorsch’s demonically low roars. Even when my attention does start to wander by album enders “Strangulation Culture” and “Graveyard Stomper,” Schorsch’s guitar ventures for the first time into higher registers, adding a novel brightness in a final push to the dead wax.

There’s not much to complain about on Casket’s latest. Missteps on In the Long Run We Are All Dead are few and minor, while mid-to-highlights—like the strong conclusions of “Seeds of Desolation” and “Graveyard Stomper,” the instrumental pause in “Fundamental Rot” when Schorsch roars over the gap, or the punky shifts that peak in and out on “Highest Thrones”—are fairly common. I did find the occasional kinetic plucking noise on the bass a little distracting, and I wish the kick drum sounded a little less anemic next to an otherwise robust kit. The opening and recurring riff of “Skull Bunker” fails in repetition and would have served better as a hook. Two tracks are dubiously cut interludes (“Mirrors,” “Necrowaves”), and “Fundamental Rot” takes its time leaving the stage, but at a combined two and a half minutes, none of it is bothersome enough to hit skip, or even properly be called bloat.

In an era of always searching for the next big thing, Casket brutally reminds me of a core life lesson: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Casket has been around since the beginning, and they know the basics never go out of style. Sure, there’s a weird riff here, a bad bridge there, but even 36 years in, In the Long Run We Are All Dead is no exception to Casket’s consistent quality and timeless, nuts-and-bolts style. Casket doesn’t do hype or trends; they don’t care about exploring boundaries or subverting expectations. They’re just here to break your skull open with a hammer. Or a knife. Or a spade.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Neckbreaker Records
Websites: Official | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: January 23rd, 2026

It’s gotta be tough being inspired by genre giants. For bands like Incantation or Autopsy, it can be hard to drink from their well without sounding like derivative, uninspired knockoffs. In the realm of brutal death, Suffocation unsurprisingly stands at the top of the corpse pile, with a sound that’s inspired offshoot after offshoot and triggered more permutations of listener-savaging than one can count. There was a period when “Suffoclone” was used as a term of mockery, and now time has looped back around to turning such a descriptor into a potential point of praise. Architectural Genocide have landed with their sophomore album Malignant Cognition, which unsurprisingly seeks to worship at the altar of the brutal death kings. Will their tribute allow them to rise to the ranks of priesthood in this church of the charnel, or relegate them to mere parish members of the profane?

Architectural Genocide overcome brutal deaths first major hurdle with an excellent sound and a clearly articulated production. With a slightly above average DR (particularly by genre standards), every instrument1 is clearly articulated, with a real shine to the drums. Nate Conner’s drum performance rides snare violations, and china fills in what sounds like a refreshingly undigital performance, while guitarists Tom Savage and Caleb Baker offer up a hodgepodge of slams and chuggy assaults which alternate between breakdowns and full-blown Suffo-isms at the drop of a hat. Vocalist Daniel Brockway, in particular, manages to share a similar register with Ricky Myers when in his higher range, adding some sense of familiarity to the proceedings. Everything is confidently delivered and competently composed.

Malignant Cognition by ARCHITECTURAL GENOCIDE

With brutal death being such a broad target to hit, various strains of DNA making their presence known is unsurprising. As already alluded too, Suffocation are the clear cornerstone, with Architectural Genocide even going so far as to kick off the album with a sample that uses the phrase “Bind, torture, kill” (“Precursor to Bloodshed.”) Occasional nods to mid-era Devourment (“Malicious Wager”) and swings to Mob Justice-era Vulvodynia (“Leave It to Cleaver”) litter Malignant Cognition, as one riff after another attempts to channel different foul spirits of savagery into one whole. In the included promo sheet, Architectural Genocide brag about distilling all the vital elements of the genre into one offering, and the sheer glut of names that can occur to anyone with a slight knowledge of the genre is telling that they’ve done their homework.

But while it’s true that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, everyone always forgets the back half of the quote: “…that mediocrity can pay to greatness.” In a world where gurgles and snare-shattering blasts are a requisite, the distinction between the goods and the greats is personality. Architectural Genocide have their greatest strength function as their biggest Achilles heel, in that they remind me of so many other bands that I find myself wishing I was listening to them instead. The snare-based drum patterns grow to be so repetitive that even Pathology might suggest toning them down a little bit, while tracks like “Malicious Wager” use a start-stop method of riffing which doesn’t get past Amputate in “intensity”, with the staccato presentation only underscoring how “fine” it is. The most interesting riffing and intense moments are all saved for the back end of the album (“Zed Requiem”, Stuffed Under Floordboards”), where Nate Connor unfurls some genuinely fun fills, and we have our first meaningful bass presence. We even get a slam worthy of slicing spines to carry us to the conclusion, ending on a high note, but also leaving one to ask where this personality has been hiding the entire time. It seems like Architectural Genocide have spent the last few years learning the compositional tricks of all these great bands, but are still struggling to cobble together the pieces into what distinguished those outfits from their hoards of imitators.

This is disappointing, because Architectural Genocide are skilled players with a good grasp of composition. But at the moment, that composition has only allowed them to ring out with the echoes of the greats, rather than sing with their own anthems of death. Nobody knocks bands anymore (usually) for sounding inspired by others, but everyone at least knows that you have to come with flair and personality, not just good emulation of style. I believe the band has the toolset to evolve past their inspirations, and I am rooting for them to do so. In the meantime, if you need a quick fix of head-bobbing gnarliness, there are plenty worse options out there.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Comatose Music
Website: Official Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2025