#independentunsigned — Public Fediverse posts

We often wax eloquent on the distinctive factors between good and great. In a writing sphere where we are strictly commanded to avoid “artistic bullshit” in our analysis in favor of more clinical, scientific examination, pinning down elements that distinguish the enjoyable from the memorable and the well-made from the impactful can make for a fun thought experiment or a maddening exercise in futility and thesaurus perusing. A few months ago, this very topic was brought up in the halls, and while staffers hemmed and hawed over nebulous ideas of quality, the ever-wise Dolphin Whisperer chimed in with a straight-to-the-point insight which stuck with me: “For me, the difference between good and great is whether I’d buy this for ten dollars.” Hailing from Croatia, one-man black metal project Petrale have arrived with some creepily straightforward artwork and an equally straightforward album title; will this be relegated to your ever-flowing streams, or have you reaching for your wallets?

Though classified as “raw black metal”, Goat at Sunset sidesteps stereotypes in presentation. Produced entirely on analogue open reel tape, this album contains the warmest, richest sound I’ve heard in some time. Rather than raw by way of underproduction like Fell Omen or draped in overly reverbed fog ala Black Cilice, each instrument has a charmingly clear enunciation while being mixed roughly around the edges with an organic, welcoming tone. Full, thick major(!) chord progressions (“Dorsal Horn”) give way to looping doses of Ulcerate-isms, which manage to be much more straightforward in execution while carving their own atmosphere of distant menace. The drums carry a dollop of modern Darkthrone in their presence, with the double bass successfully muddying the riffs just a touch, emphasizing the rawness in the nature of the production without relying on deliberate self-sabotage of aesthetic.

Goat At Sunset by Petrale

In that sound lies a standout assembly of riff which does a masterful job of evoking the artwork accompanying it. Far from being a nonstop collection of hazy blast beats and trem pickings, Goat at Sunset uses a healthy sense of dynamic composition and tempo changes to carry the listener through the entire body of work. Frequently throughout the album, breaks are used which evoke something spiritually akin to smokehouse lounge vibes (“The Postulating Conduit (Sunset)”, “Hunter”) while sometimes sandwiching more energetic riffs into doomy plods (“The Wedge That Was Supposed to Prevent Sin”). As the art shows the ominous goat head, far away but clearly defined and present, the reliance on dissonant foundations with sudden flourishes of clarity channels a soundtrack that doesn’t seek to quite open the gates of hell as much as let the listener observe such a thing from a long way off.

The net result renders Goat at Sunset as a genre offering that manages to hit a sweet spot of fusion between accessibility and roughness, and with atmosphere and musicianship. Special attention must be paid to the bass, carrying an absolutely delicious tone which permeates throughout the release, and is given multiple opportunities to shine and echo leads rather than down strumming through chord progressions. Even the concluding cover song (a cover of an artist called Sven Väth) channels a heavy dollop of upbeat major progressions into something that seems like an organic conclusion to the release rather than a merely tacked-on bonus track. It’s true that near the end, the album loses some of its steam and places more emphasis on slower theatrics rather than raw riffage, particularly if you disregard the cover and let the album end on its proper, more “official” note. Nevertheless, Petrale have crafted an album replete with memorable moments, unusual time signatures (the 7/4 break in “Dorsal Horn” being a real standout) and a fully realized atmosphere and mood.

Raw black metal stands alongside genres like stoner doom as being difficult to execute in a way worthy of a coveted 4.0. Petrale have come as close as I’ve heard in years by inverting, rather than rejecting, genre stereotypes. A production which is warm instead of abrasive on the ears, chords which carry harmony as much as dissonance, emphasis on dynamics as much as blast beats are all cobbled together to create an album which carves a clear personality for itself within the genre trappings. Rich enough in sound to welcome genre casuals while bleak enough to entice genre aficionados, Goat at Sunset has been a dark delight. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find my wallet and buy one of the 100 CD-R copies available. Hopefully, for ten dollars.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: n/a | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Self-Released
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: February 1st, 2026

I grew up with a slew of friends who dabbled in the visual arts throughout the years. One in particular blew me away by stating that the greatest artists aren’t the masters of their trade in every aspect, but rather they know what they don’t have, or rather don’t need, to make a sizable impact. You don’t need to own the most expensive paint set, a wide array of colors at your disposal, or to fill up the canvas with stuff. You have to just create your vision with what you have, and let the negative space do the work for you. Swedish duo Moon Mother knows this. On their second full-length, Meadowlands, they paint a lush, aural landscape teeming with anguish, grief, and trauma, while also crafting a sense of wonder, peace, and a smidge of hope.

You probably scrolled down to the tags section and decided to nope out in record time, especially at the sight of the “Not Metal” tag, and that’s entirely your loss. What guitarist Patriec Ahlström and vocalist Sara Mehner crafted in Meadowlands is nothing short of breathtaking, and their usage of negative space to allow for Ahlström’s melodies and gentle strums to reverberate and roll through the sleepy landscape they’ve crafted. “Wilderness,” with its finger-plucked strings and gentle electric guitar hums, is a class example of what you can build with only what you’ve got. It’s not the high production values or expensive instruments that carry you through. Rather, it’s knowing what to say, how to say it, and when not to say anything at all.

And Mehner’s angelic voice is the perfect complimentary component. Whether it’s her powerful howling (opener “High Houses”), somber melodies (closer “Windhover”), or her achingly beautiful near-yodels (“Wilderness”, the awesome “Be a Forest, Child!”), Mehner’s ability to wring out the most emotion out of a song or melody rivals that of Chelsea Wolfe or Emma Ruth Rundle in terms of performance and power. The way her gentle wailing closes out the title track stirs up so many raw emotions that will have you feeling both heartbreak and catharsis, no matter how it manifests within you. Singling out certain moments on Meadowlands proved difficult because, in reality, her standout performance, coupled with Ahlström’s musical backdrop, is best enjoyed in a single, uninterrupted, and fully focused listening experience.

If there was a bone to pick with Meadowlands, it’s in the production, and even then, it’s not a dealbreaker. Meadowlands is drenched in reverb, and I mean drenched in reverb. Coupled with the compressed mix, it makes it a bit busy, especially during the second half of “High Houses.” That, and the album is loaded with cathartic moments in the album’s second half, almost to the point of being overwhelmingly so. But the last time I’ve been hit this hard, this potently, by a doom/folk hybrid was with Darkher’s debut album. That is some absolutely stellar company to be with, and Meadowlands connects viscerally on that level.

Sure, I know what the name of the website is, and Meadowlands is a colossal anomaly in that aspect. And yes, I’m sure my colleagues will give me a reasonable (re: absurdly high) amount of shit for giving it the score it’s getting, but Moon Mother crafted an album that’s simultaneously the perfect album to purge your emotions, and an album you can use as a backdrop for a dew-filled foggy morning with a mug of your favorite heated beverage of choice. In creating an album to signify grief and hope, they gained my attention and my adoration. Give it your time, and it most certainly will do the same for you.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format: WAV
Label: Independent/Self-Release
Websites: Official | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

I’ve always wondered why there aren’t more bands that use palindromes as names.1 Think of the perfect symmetry you can get with your logo! While I’m not sure that’s what Louisville, Kentucky’s Redivider (complete with sharp, symmetrical logo!) was aiming for when they were coming up with a name, it does make them stand out in the field of bands with gory overtones, creative combinations of food/pain/sexual positions, or what-have-you. It doesn’t hurt that their debut, Sounds of Malice, helps them stand out a little bit more due to the tightness and musicianship on display.

If you’re looking for psychedelic embellishments to channel your inner third eye, or are yearning for creative interpretations of scales and modes in a dizzying array of progressive dalliances, Sounds of Malice is not for you. This is as meat-and-potatoes death metal as it gets, with emphasis on the meat, because hoo-boy, there are riffs aplenty. Guitarists Jake Atha and Paul Nunavath stuff every one of the seven tracks full of chunky riffing and squealy pinch-harmonics that look back to the likes of Immolation and Cannibal Corpse while slamming shit up. Opener “Quartered & Devoured” and the title track deliver that head-caving one-two punch combo that sets a brutal stage for a rightful trouncing.

That one-two punch, however, reveals all of Redivider’s tools early on. While none of the songs on Sounds of Malice are bad, it does blur with repeated listens as the album continues. “Shackled to Existence” feels like a continuation of the opening two-song salvo, and the fake-out ending doesn’t help matters when the song “ended” just fine without it. When a song does possess a solo, such as the Morbid Angelic closer “Left to Rot,” it acts as a breath of fresh air amongst the (cannibal) corpses, a moment you can latch on to and recall. Jacob Spencer’s sub-guttural growls and wretched pig squeals do an effective job at amplifying the brutality, but even they begin to blend into one another with each passing song.

The Dan Swanö mastering helps each instrument to breathe, which is remarkable given the lack of dynamic range. I appreciate being able to hear bass in my death metal, and Xander Farrington is no slouch as a bassist, so hearing his bass among the riffs and James Goetz’s pummeling is a welcome treat. For as heavy as the riffs and production are, however, there needs to be a tightening of the song structure and writing. Even though Sounds of Malice is a brisk sub-thirty-minute album, it does feel like it drags in certain areas. Not enough to kill the vibe, but it’s definitely noticeable.

But don’t let this deter you from checking out Sounds of Malice on your own. It’s not often we get a strong debut in the beginning of the year, but this is a fun romp that respects your time while it plays out. Sometimes, no-frills death metal does the job just fine, and there are far worse bands doing it than Redivider are, and this is only their debut. If they keep at it, things will look bright indeed for these guys, or my name isn’t Tacocat. Wait…

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Unsigned/Independent
Websites: redividerdeathmetal.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/redivider.louisville
Releases Worldwide: January 9th, 2026