#italianmetal — Public Fediverse posts

In the Wide Vale of Uncreated Night marks Lugubrious Garment’s first full-length release, though AMG readers may recognize man-behind-the-band Gabriele Gramaglia’s (GG’s) other projects. Cosmic Putrefaction introduced me to his corner of the metalsphere, assaulting listeners at the intersection of blistering hostility and star-bound synths. Vertebra Atlantis1 earned high praise from Dear Hollow on both their LPs, in particular 2023’s A Dialogue with the Eeriest Sublime and its fusion of dissonant death metal and blackened atmospheres. Despite In the Wide Vale’s debut status, I approached its stylings with some expectations of what I might hear. Given GG’s generally warm reception in AMG’s annals, does In the Wide Vale of Uncreated Night maintain this trajectory or send me into a Lugubrious lament?

Although Lugubrious Garment will sound familiar to fans of Gramaglia’s other ventures, In the Wide Vale’s best touchstones exist outside them. Lugubrious Garment inhabits interstices between metal genres, blurring the lines between progressive death metal and technical thrash emboldened by lightly blackened frills. Defacement and Suffering Hour stand out as reference points (“…And Therein Plant, unto Their Souls Asunder,” “Transient Wounds, Spiritual Wilt”), although Lugubrious Garment forsakes dissonance in favor of sharp, serpentine riffs and dense arrangements. The resulting chaos weds Individual Though Patterns-era Death mixed with early 90s Gorguts (“Innocence as a Burden, Guilt as a Weapon”) in unholy matrimony, and the scope of ideas kindled by these descriptions affords a brief glimpse into the frenetic undercurrents seething In the Wide Vale of Uncreated Night.

Compositionally, In the Wide Vale of Uncreated Night sweeps through labyrinthine corridors with hurtling instrumentation that lends Lugubrious Garment intrigue and unpredictability. The strings on “…And Therein Plant, unto Their Souls Asunder” add depth to the track when they swell with sorrow while Claudio Invidia’s (Devoid of Thought, Nefastis) drumming batters via unerring grooves that drive songs in a jazzy style at once precise and relaxed. The focal point, though, is GG himself, as In the Wide Vale churns in a vortex of violent riffs tugged hither and yon by the winds of various genres. “…And Therein Plant, unto Their Souls Asunder” and “Transient Wounds, Spiritual Wilt” deal in scrambling death metal leads that scurry in restless fervor, and though “Profaned Fountain of Leaden Waters” begins similarly, it shifts into mid-tempo, heavy metal builds halfway through. “Eulogy of Deliberate Malevolence” kicks off with thrash-coded riffing that wouldn’t be out of place on a Miscreance or Dissimulator tune, and appears again on “Innocence as a Burden, Guilt as a Weapon.” On top of the guitar acrobatics and fluidity, GG plays bass and synthesizers while laying down sufficiently moldy, worm-ridden roars,2 and the net effect sees Lugubrious Garment skitter and slither in genre-bending audacity.

Lugubrious Garment covers vast tracts of aural ground on In the Wide Vale of Uncreated Night, and they’re all rich and vivid. In addition to the intricate riffcraft, GG’s bass bludgeons its way into the mix with meaty grooves and a subtle tone that brings the oomph when needed but otherwise doesn’t overpower. It’s a nice touch on an album whose ambition occasionally edges past its cogency, which indexes my only qualm about In the Wide Vale—Lugubrious Garment throws so much into their compositions that some opportunities for further cohesion and tension slip past. Passages swarm with riotous pleasures guaranteeing unbridled fun from moment to moment, but the songs don’t always consolidate into something greater than the sum of their parts. “Profaned Fountain of Leaden Waters” ends with a beautiful, lilting piano piece, and although the keys faintly twinkle throughout the track, I find myself wanting more dynamic pacing during its seven-minute run. Closer “Eden Fades Like Blurred Nightmares” succeeds in this vein, but the reprieve’s impact could have been amplified earlier in the track list. Also, Andrea Morgan’s violin and viola on “…And Therein Plant, unto Their Souls Asunder” gleam with symphonic splendor when featured, but seem underutilized considering what they achieve in the spotlight.

In the Wide Vale of Uncreated Night never fails to supply a good time, and even after several listens I catch details I missed eighteen times before. Lugubrious Garment triumphs on their first LP, and for a guy constantly cooking up new music and projects, GG proves his well of ideas runs deep and refreshing. In the Wide Vale provokes excitement and curiosity about where Lugubrious Garment might go next, and given GG’s productivity I hope I don’t have to wait too long to discover what awaits beyond the Uncreated Night.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: 20 Buck Spin
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: October 16th, 2026

Howdy. It’s been a while, and I’m sure y’all are wondering where the hell I’ve been, besides threatening to kick people’s shins in the comment section for terribly misbehaving. Between lateral moves at work with wildly varied results, the world going up in literal flames, and finding out the hard way that your heroes are well and truly (and in some cases, deservedly) disposable,1 2026 can eat my entire asshole and beg for seconds, thirds, and fourths. It’s been difficult trying to find time to just breathe, let alone listen to music and write about it. Thankfully, one of my favorite discoveries since writing here have a new album coming out, and Shores of Null once again supplied a fantastic collection of songs for us to talk about today.

Shores of Null aren’t afraid of tackling concepts for full-length albums, as 2020’s incredible one-song full-length Beyond the Shores – Of Death and Dying masterfully displayed. On this go-round, the Italians confront the meaning of the album title, whether it’s the yearning, heartache, and desperate need to cling to the memories of home (or the craving for something similar in vibe), or the need to avoid the toxicity, pain, and repercussions of an unhappy upbringing on the polar opposite side of homesickness. No matter which side of that word you fall on, pretty much everyone can relate to the loss of a favorite hangout, a home no longer in existence, or even a home that was never truly there. It’s a powerful, oftentimes cathartic exploration, and one that everyone confronts at one point in their lives.

And by and large, Shores of Null tackled the themes with grace and the proper level of care and attention. From the opening seconds of “Allies Before Defeat,” with its melancholy melodies and riffs and Davide Straccione’s dulcet croons and choruses, it’s immediately apparent that Shores of Null navigates the weight of lamenting a lost landmark or home with ease. “Bleed to Life” sees Straccione utilizing his growls a lot more than in the past, which is a welcome dichotomy that I’d love to see the band explore a bit more, as he possesses an incredible singing and growling voice that complements whatever’s happening musically.2 The rest of the band aren’t slouches, either, as between the Paradise Lost-like riffs and fantastic drumming from Emiliano Cantiano, they set a wonderful backdrop for Straccione to deliver impressive vocal lines.

Things do take a little bit of a dip from midpoint “Dreaming of a Scar”3 onward, but even then it’s only in comparison to how strong the album’s front half is. Other than some worrying vocal strain and pitchiness by Straccione during the choruses on penultimate track “Another Breath,” this is Shores of Null knowing their comfort zones, where their strengths are, and how to best deliver their message. I’m all for experimentation, don’t get me wrong, but there’s nothing wrong with going with what you know, especially when what you know has worked quite well for yourself this far. I’d rather have a collection of strong songs with powerful writing than a grab-bag of ideas that don’t mesh or gel well.

And Homesick is yet another worthwhile feather in Shores of Null’s cap. With Amorphis, Paradise Lost, and Insomnium rightfully planting themselves as forefathers of death/doom, it would be criminal to not include Shores of Null in the mix, as their output has been largely extraordinary since inception. Hopefully, with Homesick, we’ll see big things for these guys, as they’ve been killing it so far with their output. Either way, it’s most certainly a worthy addition to your collection, and one that might help you take your mind off of everything, even if it’s only for 45 minutes.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Dusktone
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 16th, 2026

Frozen Crown does not seem like a group that’s content to sit still for very long. Since The Fallen King in 2018, they have yet to let more than two years go by between full-length releases. These Italians have tinkered with their signature blend of power metal and various other subgenres over the years, on which Eldritch Elitist has expertly expounded with overall positive results. Most recently, he praised 2024’s War Hearts for its concise, pop-leaning compositions. Their sixth album, The Legend of the Six Kings, is a continuation of this sleek, streamlined strategy, with outcomes that may be surprising for longtime fans.

The most immediately obvious change is in Frozen Crown’s velocity, as they move away from a fast-paced Wintersun sound and towards a mid-paced Battle Beast emphasis on rousing anthems. Whereas the melodic death metal influence used to be heard in the instrumentation alone, The Legend of the Six Kings flips the script with simpler heavy metal instrumentation and occasional melodeath growls by Federico Mondelli. This isn’t to say that Frozen Crown is abandoning their Europower roots, though. Cuts such as “Lightning in the Sky” and “Through the Fire” showcase Giada “Jade” Etro’s gritty singing alongside galloping guitar leads, and there is still some swift soloing to be found in some of the songs (“Winter Hearts,” “The One”).

Yet, The Legend of the Six Kings almost always feels watered down in tempo and technicality when compared to its predecessors. Although Frozen Crown is no stranger to soaring choruses, the main focus now appears to be audience engagement during live performances. In a recorded setting, this works better at times than others. The title track’s chorus evokes a similar epic and triumphant feeling as Ancient Bards, whereas “Who Wants to Burn in Heaven” hinges on a catchy, oft-repeated refrain that grows tired after only four minutes. In general, the hooks are not mind-blowingly catchy enough to justify this priority shift to slower, sing-along songwriting. “Winter Hearts” is where Frozen Crown sounds the most like their old selves, with spirited riffs and double bass drumming. It makes me miss when these core elements used to coexist with the thrilling anthems on prior albums.

But Frozen Crown’s reduced pace doesn’t mean they can’t still play some great tunes. In “River of Time,” the vocals and the guitars harmonize to create a warm Brothers of Metal tone that I enjoy. There’s even a cover of “Iris” (Goo Goo Dolls) which sounds surprisingly good in power metal form. The decision to slot “Iris” in the middle of the record rather than tacking it onto the end was a bold one that I’m not sure was fully warranted, but it does help inject some needed vitality into the back half, which has stronger pacing than the front. In terms of song lengths, The Legend of the Six Kings is quite rushed, with most of the ten tracks lasting less than four minutes. I would have preferred more time to flesh out the ideas on display, as the compositions sound a little undercooked and blur together somewhat.

While Frozen Crown may not be inclined to sit still in their career, their music shows signs of running out of steam. They inexplicably discarded the majority of the rapid riffs and rhythms that served as their solid foundation until this point, and it saddens me to hear them so diminished in urgency. The songs are all decent enough on their own, but the relative homogeneity in tempo and the simpler guitar leads cause The Legend of the Six Kings to drag more than its 36-minute runtime would suggest. Similarly, the band members’ individual performances are very well executed, as usual, but the songwriting is a lot safer and more generic across the board. That said, Frozen Crown has never released the same record twice, so I maintain hope for the future. Until then, you’ll find me back at War Hearts.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: frozencrown.bandcamp.com | frozencrown.net | facebook.com/frozencrownofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 2nd, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/ie/698047/ Game Over – When Darkness Falls Review #2026 #30 #Anthrax #Éire #Entertainment #Exodus #GameOver #IE #Ireland #ItalianMetal #Music #Review #Reviews #ScarletRecords #Sep26 #Testament #ThrashMetal #WhenDarknessFalls

Here it is. My first repeat customer. Last April, Italian five-piece Game Over blindsided me with their sixth LP, Face the End, a love letter to ’70s and ’80s horror flicks and coast-to-coast prime-era thrash. Even with some uneven songwriting, a refreshed lineup helped them carve out a newly honed sound that balanced thrash’s timeworn genre tropes with a punchy, aggressive energy that hit all the right notes. Well, color me surprised again. Just a little over a year later, Game Over returns with their seventh album, When Darkness Falls, and a first glance suggests we’re in for more of the same. Anytime a band releases albums in such quick succession, though, I get wary. Will the songwriting suffer? Is this a case of having too much material for their own good? Will it bring the same fun factor as Face the End?

When Darkness Falls picks right up where Face the End left off, offering a heaping plate of thrash comfort food. It’s the kind of thrash made for tearing around town in your beat-up van with the stereo cranked and a case of cheap beer rattling around in the back. These tracks are stuffed with enough sing-along gang vocals and high-octane energy to get any metal fan to pump their fists in time with the riffs. Game Over pull from both ends of the classic thrash spectrum. “Fight For Your Mind” and “Two Souls One Flesh” channel strong Testament vibes, while “Break Away” does its best early Exodus impression with its “Toxic Waltz” swagger. Elsewhere, Anthrax’s East Coast party atmosphere roots “Scream It Out” and “Self Denied,” balancing their aggression with a sense of fun and accessibility. And while the horror-themed lyrics are tropey as hell, they fit Game Over’s approach so naturally that it’s hard to hold any real complaints.

Game Over’s brand of thrash is almost guaranteed to be a blast live, but its familiarity underscores both When Darkness Falls’ strengths and its limitations. The quartet writes solid, entertaining material that hits exactly where it aims, yet it rarely pushes beyond the safety of the genre’s borders or tests how far their sound could stretch. Outside of “What Fate Brings” and “Curse of Strahd,” as well as closer “Command to Die” which drags somewhat in energy and songwriting, the album’s tracks are appealing and well executed, but so safe that they raise questions about the group’s appetite for evolution. A few calculated risks here and creative detours there could have elevated When Darkness Falls to the next level. Still, the old saying “a classic never dies” applies. Game Over know how to deliver and across the record’s brisk 33 minutes I found myself often nodding along, swept up in the abrasive riffs and infectious energy of “Scream It Out,” “Fight For Your Mind,” “Self Denied” and “Two Souls One Flesh” without a care in the world.

Game Over continues to run through vocalist Danny Schiavina, who remains one of the band’s strongest assets. Shifting effortlessly between gritty and menacing roars (“Beneath the Ground,” “Curse of Strahd”) and the soaring, Belladonna-esque proclamations of “Break Away,” Schiavina gives When Darkness Falls a dynamic spine and is a force to be reckoned with. He leans less on his higher register here than he did on Face the End, and he’s not pushed quite as forward in the mix as I would have liked, but his performance suits the heavier, more direct approach of the songwriting all the same. The gang vocals also add punch and immediacy, even though they are overutilized. Now the sole guitarist after Alessandro “Sanso” Sansone’s departure, Luca “Ziro” Zironi, comes armed with a formidable ax, firing off power chords, relentless down-picking, and sharp solos that fuel When Darkness Falls with brute force.

When Darkness Falls delivers exactly what it sets out to do. It’s a familiar platter of loud, well-executed thrash served with enough charm and muscle to satisfy the loyal denim faithful still craving the nostalgic bite of olde. After two very similar records in such close succession, though, I’m hoping Game Over develops some new tricks because that’s what ultimately keeps When Darkness Falls from reaching greater heights, and at this point, we know the cut of these Italians’ gib.

Rating: Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Scarlet Records
Websites: gameoverofficial.bandcamp.com | gameoverofficial.net | facebook.com/GameOverThrashMetal
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

What makes a random promo grab special is the absence of expectations and the ignorance of any band or album lore, at least in the initial stages. The promise of this blank slate drew me to Italian power metal quartet Aletheya, comprised of members from Fleshgod Apocalypse, Stormlord, Ivory Moon, and Concept. Debuting with their upcoming LP Chance to Reborn, Aletheya ventured a story centered around inner conflict and human resilience with a focus on perseverance, self-reflection, and hope. That concept suits the context of power metal perfectly, but how well does the final product coalesce into something exciting and compelling in this competitive arena?

Musically, Aletheya stick pretty closely to the established power metal blueprints established by bands like Rhapsody of Fire, Helloween, and Galneryus. That means a metric ton of double bass runs, thunderous gallops, whimsical synths and twinkling effects, and lightning-fast solo shreds with soaring choruses on top. Those with an affinity for the genre trappings will find great comfort here, and those averse to the same will find a familiar repulsion awaits. Nonetheless, Aletheya are charming and exuberant, such that Chance to Reborn is very difficult to dislike. In fact, the longer I spent time with it, the more I wanted to spend additional time with it.

The biggest detractor holding me back from doing exactly that at any opportunity is Chance to Reborn’s flat and plastic engineering. While not that dissimilar to the Industry Standard™ for power metal, every player except for vocalist Gianni Carcione occupies the same placement at dead center, resulting in a crowded soundscape dominated by Gianni’s heavily accented delivery in the front. Songs like “The Rule” and “Chasing the Sun” in particular suffer for such a lack in sonic dynamics. The former is meant to hit hard the way only Teutonic power metal can, but the engineering’s lack of guts siphon the muscle away from the tune and leaves its sharp, punchy ending dulled and ineffective. The latter should’ve been a sunny, inspirational hair-raiser—and it is for the most part—but this overly sterilized production makes it hard for even Gianni’s empowered vocal runs to punch above their weight as intended.

On the other hand, the songs themselves are sleeper builds, pumping fun and a palpable love for the genre deep into the veins. While at first I was cool on many of these tunes, the electric “Chasing the Sun” began that elusive catalytic reaction I so greedily seek. Eventually, high-energy frolics “Eye of the Stone,” “The Rule,” “Echoes of Oblivion,” and “Stealer” became impossible to resist. Cheesy as they are, their charms seem infinite. Gianni’s bright and unique tonal quality and exuberant delivery—highly reminiscent of Glenn from Superstore if that immensely lovable character fronted a europower act himself1—combine with Francesco Menale’s rapid-fire gallops and neoclassical noodles and David Folchitto’s adrenaline-spiked percussion to great effect. Other songs don’t fare quite as well if only because they sound remarkably similar to one another (“Invisible Heroes,” “Chance to Reborn,” etc.), which gives away a shortage of distinct songwriting ideas and pathways. Consequently, Aletheya aren’t able to support nearly 50 minutes of material on stable footing. Instead, they stretch themes and repeated structures so thin at times that the tissues holding the whole together threaten to tear apart.

Chance to Reborn is a competent, charming, but imperfect first record by a fledgling act. The talent and skill are there, and Gianni in particular boasts a unique and lovable voice that might take getting used to at first, but shines with personality. If the rest of the band can find a similar wealth of character and imbue their songwriting with a wealth of distinct ideas—even if they don’t necessarily challenge genre convention—then future Aletheya works could become truly exciting and epic to behold. Revisiting their engineering process to give their next round more dynamics and guts only promises even greater yields. Until that time, take an hour and test Chance to Reborn’s charms for yourself!

Rating: Mixed
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Rockshots Records
Website: Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

ESCAPEINOUT – No Time | Official Lyric Video

No Time: https://youtu.be/d5GSx-zMYIg

Taken from the album The Age of Collapse, out now on Brutal Records.

“No Time” features Flavio Emanuele Costantino Burtone.

#Escapeinout #NoTime #TheAgeOfCollapse #BrutalRecords #ExtremeMetal #Metal #MetalMusic #ItalianMetal #SicilianMetal #LyricVideo #NewMetal #Metal2026

Given its proclivity for scathing speeds, tough turnarounds, and blistering double bass, death metal contains a surprising number of drummer-vocalists. There’s Chris Reifert’s foundational feats in Autopsy, Mike Browning’s total-body tour de force on The Key (Nocturnus), and Max Klebanoff’s cookie-monstered kit-mashing in Tomb Mold. Add Andrea Feltrin of Miscreance to the list of specimens who helm the drums while screaming like a maniac. His Northern Italian quartet garnered well-deserved hype with their thrashy, old-school brand of technical death metal on debut Convergence (2022).1 For its sophomore outing, Miscreance gets bolder with a concept record; the band describes Reminiscence as a ‘lost album’ from ‘an unknown civilization that’s both futuristic and extremely primitive.’ Feltrin thus faces the unenviable task of carrying the narrative and rhythmic weight of Reminiscence, a forward-looking foray into vintage thrash-death.

Fortunately, three killer musicians fill out Miscreance, evoking the genre’s genesis and present. In lockstep with Feltrin’s lethal limbs is bassist Jean-Claude Rossingnol, whose Rickenbacker rattles with a deliciously fat n’ clangy tone.2 His punchy plucks, scintillating slaps, and stimulating slides unquestionably conjure the presence of Atheist. Guitar duo Andrea Granauro and Tommaso Cappelletti forge Miscreance’s frontline, discharging a repertoire of spidery riffs, grinding gallops, and whammy-barred solos. Their symbolic sound patterns summon the inhuman fretboard gymnastics of proggy Death. Together, the members of Miscreance craft a more-than-worthy iteration of old-school technical death metal, with sharp, clean, and vibrant production. Reminiscence pays homage to a classic like Sadus’s A Vision of Misery (1992), and it can dance with a greenhorn like Tomb Mold’s The Enduring Spirit (2023).

It is the rhythm section, though, that supplies Miscreance with its star power. Often, the bass in technical (death) metal comes off as merely another melodic instrument, and Rossingnol certainly adds color at key moments (“Synaptic Corpse Dissection”). The real joys of Reminiscene, however, bloom when Rossingnol and Feltrin beat the listener over the head with primal rhythmic hooks. A recurring motif in “Oracle’s Rift” best exemplifies such wallopings. Feltrin’s accented drumrolls lock in with Rossingnol’s voluminous bass slaps, acting as a kind of non-melodic chorus for the song. The off-kilter yet movement-inducing interplay between the bass and drums forms the fabric of Reminiscence, tapping into the brain of a lizard with an advanced degree. With a little help from this feral fabric, the knotty guitar hooks stitched by Granauro and Cappelletti shine even more.

Fairly consistently, Reminiscence slays across its 38 minutes. Opener “Trait d’Union” maps a template of elements that reverberate throughout. Its tribal bongos set a primal tone that periodically pops up as the album soars through its technical journey. Additionally, the opener dons over the music deep voiceovers that, while a bit goofy, develop a sense of narrative trajectory. “Synaptic Cortex Dissection” stands as a mid-album high point—it culminates with some absolutely deranged, absolutely delightful guitar harmonies. The back half of Reminiscence keeps the momentum and quality high, even if some moments shout for breathing room (the bass groove in “Symbiosis,” the cosmic solo in “Zenith of a Dying Sun”). Pseudo-instrumental “Mirage” is a bangin’ closer, though, somehow upping the ante on an album living in the fast lane. Feltrin’s maniacal rasps amplify the unhinged volatility, recalling mid-career Chuck and Damian Herring’s harshes (Horrendous). I love how Feltrin barely sputters out all the lyrics as he screeches like an eagle. Still, more lyrical legibility would cement Reminiscence’s concept about ‘primordial extraterrestrials [that] have achieved total neural unity’ but are tempted by ‘innate wickedness.’3

As carpenters of thrashy, old-school technical death metal, Miscreance furnish a sophomore album that all but nails it. Propelled by an exciting bass/drum duo and rounded out by an equally imposing guitar pair, Reminiscence delivers everything fans of this genre are looking for, with verve. Miscreance could stand to be more unique, but they show signs of developing something singular in the future. Indeed, this Italian quintet has only just begun to discover its potential. One day, I look forward to reminiscing about Miscreance’s sophomore album as the band’s stepping-stone to the top of the death-thrash world.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 28th, 2026

🔥 ESCAPEINOUT — THE AGE OF COLLAPSE 🔥

From Catania, Sicily 🇮🇹, ESCAPEINOUT unleash crushing modern extreme metal forged from death metal, groove, atmosphere & down-tuned riffs.

#ESCAPEINOUT #ExtremeMetal #DeathMetal #ItalianMetal #BrutalRecords #NewRelease2026

First appearing on these pages back in 2016 with sophomore record Forsaken, progressive power outfit Noveria have made a habit of getting in their own way. After Forsaken failed to match its Evergreyed ambition with clumsy execution, the quintet bounced back in a big way with Aequilibrium (2019), a record packed with heaviness, melody and virtuosity that hinted at huge things for these Italians. Then regression reared its ugly head with 2024’s The Gates of the Underworld. Although Noveria cleverly reframed their emotional themes through mythological imagery, the album once again collapsed under the weakness of its songwriting, disappointing GardensTale enough to question whether he would ever review them again. Indeed, consistency has been elusive for Noveria, making their on-again, off-again pattern of releases particularly frustrating. But fret not, dear reader. If history is any guide, the pendulum should swing back toward the positive with fifth LP Becoming After, assuming the metal gods smile on us.

And smile they have. Striking a sweet spot between Symphony X and Dream Theater, with touches of Pagan’s Mind, Becoming After finds Noveria sounding like a band reborn. Talent has never been in short supply here, and their cup now runneth over, with drummer Paolo Conte and keyboardist Paolo Campitelli (ScreaMachine) replacing longtime members Davide Calabretta and Julien Spreutels, respectively, alongside the addition of vocalist Frank Marino (Dreamscape). These guys can flat-out play, and Becoming After reaps the benefits, delivering everything existing fans could hope for, only harder, faster and stronger. The aggressive riffs of Aequilibrium are pervasive, synched tightly with Conte’s kinetic rhythms and Campitelli’s synth embellishments, all bolstered by string arrangements by violinist Abigail Stahlschmidt and cellist Luca Basile on cuts like “Through Your Light”1 and “Convicted to Rise.” There’s even a few surprises thrown in for good measure, including djent-focused tracks (“Radiance,” “Heavenfall”) and serene ballads (“Through Your Light”) that help keep things fresh. Although the stylistic departures of “Heavenfall” and “Radiance” seem somewhat out of place within the broader context, they are executed well enough to keep momentum while still feeling fun and adventurous.

Losing most of your roster can hamstring even the best bands, but in Noveria’s case, the shakeup has proven transformative. Francesco Corigliano’s departure left a massive void, but Frank Marino is quick to quell any fears he can’t fill those shoes. The downfall of Gates was its lack of hooks and Mariano ensures that problem doesn’t persist on Becoming After, stuffing Noveria’s songs to the brim with hooks and towering choruses. Possessing James LaBrie’s (Dream Theater) buttery tone and multi-octave range, Marino tears through tracks like “Cold Flames,” “Convicted to Rise,” “Echoes From the Abyss,” and “Infinite Horizons” with a command that is increasingly rare these days. While his voice occasionally loses a bit of power when venturing into higher registers, it still more than holds its own against the record’s dense instrumentation.

As impressive as the vocal performance on Becoming After is, the rest of Noveria deserve equal recognition. Longtime guitarist Francesco Mattei drives the group’s sound with a barrage of muscular riffs that span progressive, power, and djent, setting his fretboard ablaze with virtuosic solos and rapid-fire scales that form the record’s ambitious foundation. When paired with Campitelli’s fleet-fingered keyboard solos, the two put on an absolute show that rivals the best in the business. Likewise, bassist Andrea Arcangeli’s (DGM) dynamic bass lines and Conte’s battering drum work provide a low-end backbone that underpins Noveria’s grandiose arrangements, resulting in songwriting that remains interesting throughout the record’s substantial 55-minute runtime. However, though not drastically overlong, Becoming After does periodically lose steam, most notably during the self-titled closing interlude, “Heavenfall” and “Viper’s Nest,” which are far from bad but feel overshadowed by the stronger material surrounding them.

Lineup changes be damned, Noveria have roared back with Becoming After, crafting an album with tremendous replay value and one that has beamed its way into my psyche with its memorable hooks and consistently strong songwriting. Progressive power metal can often veer into territory that is far too cheesy for my tastes, yet Becoming After strikes the ideal balance between over-the-top spectacle and tasteful restraint in a way that is both charming and difficult to stop listening to. Time will tell whether Becoming After finally breaks Noveria’s streak of inconsistent releases, but they now have my full attention.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Scarlet Records
Websites: scarletrecords.bandcamp.com/album/becoming-after | noveriaofficial.com/home.html | facebook.com/NoveriaOfficial
Releases Worldwide: August 21st, 2026

Numinous (adj.): evoking a sense of the mystical, sublime, or transcendent; awe-inspiring. Abditory (n.): a concealed location used for storage or to hide items (rare). Deflagration (n.): the act of deflagrating; an intense fire; a conflagration or explosion. Specifically, combustion that spreads subsonically via thermal conduction.1 Yup, it’s an I, Voidhanger release. Experimental industrial black/death band Saprovore is an eponymous solo project by the ringleader of Italy’s experimental group Strigiform, also supported by I, Voidhanger. Strigiform’s debut Aconite came out late last year and Saprovore’s debut Unuttered Aporetic Omen dropped this past March, so now I know who’s been hogging all the executive functioning around here. Now, Saprovore aims to build off their debut’s foundation with “a more refined and mindful approach to songwriting” on Numinous Abditory Deflagration. But can Saprovore evoke an awe-inspiring combustion of concealed mystical places with Numinous Abditory Deflagration?

Well, Numinous Abditory Deflagration certainly doesn’t sound conventional. A synth-forward, drum machine-heavy electronic affair driven by speedy blackened fury and cavernous deathly density, Saprovore fit well within the I, Voidhanger canon. Drums take on largely black metal stylings, blasting through loud, slightly off-kilter beats as the synthesizers play dueling, drawn-out symphonic parts and Saprovore wretches out heavily distorted rasps on occasion. I’d bet money that Saprovore had every instrument running through every effect pedal they have at some point on Numinous Abditory Deflagration, as every song is sopping wet with reverb, distortion, delays, etcetera. Though Saprovore touted tighter songwriting this time around, Numinous Abditory Deflagration is still free-form in nature, sloshing into and out of parts with minimal transition or (if you’re not listening closely) notice. All this to say, with Numinous Abditory Deflagration Saprovore doesn’t sound a thing like Manowar. Wimps and posers, you’re free to stay.

What’s flustered me this whole time with Saprovore’s latest is how something so off-beat from conventional songcraft can also be so bafflingly banal. Numinous Abditory Deflagration sounds like a wreck. An uninteresting wreck. With Saprovore, either almost nothing is happening, or everything is happening. Numinous Abditory Deflagration is either droning aimlessly or stacking unrelated synth leads over crushed drum loops ad nauseum. Saprovore’s melodies are also extremely rudimentary and tame, never reaching for soaring payoffs or even achieving all that much dissonance. This undynamic songwriting approach—echoed by its loud, blown-out lo-fi production—means Numinous Abditory Deflagration lacks true peaks and valleys. Meaning that songs and movements start to blend together after a while. Meaning that, after about a dozen listens to Numinous Abditory Deflagration, I still can’t fucking remember a fucking thing about it afterwards.

Numinous Abditory Deflagration’s biggest problem, however, is that Saprovore just runs out of gas after track one. You’ve probably noticed that I haven’t discussed any songs in specific this whole review; that’s because nearly any comment levied on any one song could just as accurately describe any other song off Numinous Abditory Deflagration. Barring the drum and bass break on “Chalice of Spectral Residue” or an eerie key refrain on “Threnody Pt. 1 (Hush-Born),” every song on Numinous Abditory Deflagration is built out of the same few, boring ideas. Listless synths, drawling drum loops, negligible vocals. Speaking of, Saprovore’s vocals exemplify Numinous Abditory Deflagration’s utter banality. Not only are there no variety in delivery, but all but one song uses exactly three blocks of three lines. Barring “Threnody Pt. 1 (Hush-Born),” an instrumental, you get nothing else. If what Saprovore had anything going with Numinous Abditory Deflagration, monotony killed any chance of it meaning anything.

I come away from Numinous Abditory Deflagration with the inescapable feeling—one that I know can’t be true, but I feel regardless—that Saprovore spent considerably more time and care with its naming than its composition. More than anything I’ve reviewed during my tenure at AngryMetalGuy.com—even that one—this was the record I loathed returning to the most. Somehow, it gave me less to think about with each listen. Worse, I know Saprovore can do better. Having gone back to Unuttered Aporetic Omen, I disagree that Numinous Abditory Deflagration is the more refined album. Saprovore’s debut has some of Numinous Abditory Deflagration’s problems—its drums sound terrible, too—but there’s identity between songs. Some, at least. It doesn’t feel like listening to a thoroughly busted microwave fuck up a bag of popcorn for nearly fifty minutes, anyway. Was that the real deflagration all along?

Rating: Unlistenable
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 257 kbps MP3
Label: I, Voidhanger Records
Website: saprovoredeath.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: August 7th, 2026

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 AMG readers surely know, death metal and science fiction go together like science and fiction. Foundational and contemporary examples alike confirm that atonal riffing, guttural growling, and machine-gun drumming pair well with spaceships, aliens, and exoplanets. On the surface, Italy’s Into Darkness fit nicely into this milieu—that cover recalls the content of Spheres (Pestilence) and the color palette of The Key (Nocturnus).1 The band insists, however, that they do not play ‘sci-fi’ or ‘spacey’ death metal. Instead, Into Darkness describe Route to the Outer Side, their long-gestating debut album, as timeless death metal with a focus on ‘divulgative astronomy,’ which translates complex science into accessible language. Death metal, too, constitutes its own specialized language, with experts in the Commentariat ready to evaluate this Italian trio’s contribution to the discourse.

Route to the Outer Side took a while to arrive, but it enters the death metal stratosphere with a bang. Formed in 2011, Into Darkness released several demos, splits, and EPs before their first full-length. Doomed Warrior is the ‘Commander’ of this musical mission, handling vocals, a host of guitar duties (rhythm, lead, acoustic), and bass. Santo is ‘Pilot,’ propelling the Into Darkness ship with his dexterous drumming, while Filippo serves as ‘Mission Specialist,’ mixing more guitars into the melee.2 Despite their Italian heritage, Into Darkness claim Dutch death metal as their primary influence. Indeed, the razor-wire tones, thrash-doom fluctuations, and merciless rhythmic assaults recall Asphyx. I’m also reminded of Spiritual Healing-era Death, insofar as Into Darkness illuminates their tried-and-true murkiness with a tech/prog sensibility. For a more contemporary referent, one can cite the elevated nastiness of Horrendous, seeing as the band favors walloping production that isn’t too low-end heavy. The result is a familiar, consistent debut of quality death metal that rips, grooves, and punishes.

The big question is whether its concept elevates Route to the Outer Side. As an exercise in divulgative astronomy, each song emblematizes an object in the outer region of our solar system: the four gas/ice giants, the Kuiper belt, and—of course—little old Pluto. A peek at their lyrics proves that Into Darkness aren’t joking when they describe their songs as ‘divulgative’ (i.e. informative). In opener “Jupiter,” for example, Doomed Warrior shreds a squeal-laden guitar maelstrom while screaming quantitative data about the fifth planet: ‘Its mass alone, heavy might, outweighs what stands beside / Two and a half times the mass of the other planets combined.’ Like much death metal, the lyrics are generally inscrutable; in this way, the lyrics ‘don’t matter,’ as is frequently true in the subgenre. The informative lyrics are unique, however, seeming to map onto melodic shifts and key changes (“Saturn”). This mapping isn’t obvious, though, revealing a potential over-reading on my part.3 Lyrics aside, the songwriting doesn’t quite stick after the mission ends, but each individual journey excites in the moment.

At 41 minutes, Route to the Outer Side comprises a concisely expansive voyage, though it’s hard to see the galaxy for the celestial objects. One might expect the opening quartet of “Jupiter” through “Neptune” to grow increasingly icy; alas, the four giants play out as dynamic yet interchangeable onslaughts. Into Darkness sprinkles black-box-sounding voiceovers throughout, reinforcing the divulgative concept. “Halley” doesn’t feel especially ‘comet-like,’ but “Kuiper Belt” is a nice interlude into “Pluto,” which should be the closer. Its concluding guitar melody (akin to “For Whom the Bell Tolls”) fades out in album-ending fashion, whereas the closing title track is a brief rager that absolutely sounds like liftoff.

Into Darkness have created a debut that should please most fans of death metal. As long as listeners don’t go in expecting it to be cosmic or atmospheric (despite the cover), they’ll be fine. Route to the Outer Side isn’t terribly original, but it’s totally righteous. It also taught me a thing or two about our solar system, which I can’t say is a typical result of consuming death metal. I’ll definitely be looking to the skies for Into Darkness to reappear. Hopefully, the band won’t be like Uranus, taking ‘eighty-four years to reach the end / Of another lone journey.’

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: July 24th, 2026

Four-and-a-half years after releasing debut T.S.N.R.I. – Impermanenza, Italian atmospheric folk/black outfit Duir returns with sophomore full-length Catarsi. Drawing similarities to Saor, Autrest, and Mossgiver, Duir plays a blend of black and folk metal rooted in evocative instrumentation—specifically the Irish flute, hurdy-gurdy, and bagpipes. Italian for ‘Catharsis,’ Catarsi tells the story of a World War I soldier caught at a crossroads of emotional turmoil and relays the narrative through six tracks totaling forty-seven minutes. Without a lyrics sheet or story details, I can’t comment on the tale itself, yet I admit it establishes a poignant backdrop for atmospheric metal. It’s evident that Duir possesses the skills and imagination to pull it off, but does Catarsi succeed in doing so.

What I enjoy best about Catarsi is Duir’s ability to construct rich layers of music overflowing with vivid textures. Their soundstage feels inhabited and natural, with folk instruments complementing the traditional juncture of guitars and drums. The resulting fusion entices with an understated beauty I heavily associate with folk-informed metal, allowing Duir to forge a path parallel to black metal while developing distinct aural tones besides. Compared to Impermanenza, Catarsi experiments with fewer components, focusing on a narrower scope of sounds and tempos. This allows Duir to fully explore their chosen milieu for the story they’re telling, though it also limits the paths Catarsi can take.

While the instrumentation skews Gaelic and Duir hails from Italy, Catarsi predominantly sounds regionally agnostic,1 imparting an ambiguous rustic charm to the music. Catarsi swells with sumptuous folds as TZ supplies Irish flute and hurdy-gurdy, instilling wonderfully welcome supplements to the tremolos and mournful keening (“Della notte”) of guitarists MK and Skryer. Ever propelling the action forward, drummer P wields a deft touch as he unleashes fierce rolls (“Di nessuno”) and restrained timekeeping (“Manifesto”) in equal measure. Vocalist Vox in Umbra delivers a vicious performance as well, scouring eardrums with his heart-rending rasps (“Manifesto,” “Oltre l’alba”). And though I’m a sucker for punchy bass performances, Duir neither has nor needs any on Catarsi.2 In all, the folk instruments supply ample counterpoints that engender the variety and depth that well-written bass lines typically apply to augment guitars and drums, begetting a well-balanced sonic spread on Catarsi.

I can’t deny that Duir’s performances here are genuinely stunning, yet as a whole, it leaves little impression once concluded. Most of this I attribute to the pervasive homogeneity across the album. Songs are winsome from moment to moment, but leave me with few anchor points to differentiate them. The guitars mostly trem-pick in steady rhythms or drop into passive, melancholic refrains, limiting Duir to only a couple modes of play. And although the flute and hurdy-gurdy bring an extra dimension to proceedings, making them more of a melodic centerpiece would have gone further than utilizing them as accents and flourishes. To be fair, I suspect I’m missing a key component by knowing there’s a story to Catarsi while being ignorant of the details, yet I wish Duir employed more obvious contrasts between the tracks. T.S.N.R.I. – Impermanenza better separated themes and motifs, and while Catarsi’s compositions are more mature, stronger song identities could have reduced the perception of uniformity. Still, Duir prevails on other fronts. The DR score of 8 strongly supports the complexity of their arrangements, and L.G.’s3 guest vocals on “Impeto” yield a clever change-of-pace midway through the album.

Though some flaws hold Catarsi back, Duir can clearly craft absorbing metal. It’s impossible to deny the allure of their music, and any song in isolation sells the vision of Duir’s niche in black metal. All told, though, I struggle to discern the nuances within Catarsi’s design, and without mile markers to segregate passages, its songs can easily slip into the background rather than demanding attention. Even so, Catarsi offers plenty of redeeming moments, and I expect other fans of this style may find more to love than I did.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

The storms persist, but now it’s getting hot! Steam roils inside the filter ducts as my minions scald themselves in the pursuit of moderately valuable nuggets. Will they succeed before they cook like so many broccoli florets? Only time will tell.

Dead or alive, I’ll make sure these lazy louts deliver their semi-precious lodes. So be thankful, and BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Mountainous Member

Volcandra // Beyond the Will of Mortals [April 24th, 2026 – Prosthetic Records]

Who knows why we don’t get promo sometimes? Countless times I’ve been faced with great anticipation for a new record by a band I was keeping tabs on, and countless times, for unknown reasons, promo never came. Louisville melodic black/death quartet Volcandra now enter those ranks with the unsent Beyond the Will of Mortals. Picking up where The Will of Ancients left off, Beyond the Will of Mortals expands in scope and scale, eliciting a grandeur in composition that recalls the epic yarns spun by Foretoken, Hath, and Astralborne, but with the thrashing sensibilities of Antiverse and Skeletonwitch. Leading the charge in stunning fashion, “Beyond the Will of Mortals” and “Marauders of the Cosmic Vortex” explode with a visceral burst of energy built around high-octane riffs, screaming solos, and majestic melodies. Dave Palenske in particular acquits himself admirably, expanding his vocal range far beyond the expected, foraying into scorching screams and subterranean gutturals with excellent technique and charisma (“Venom March Enchantress”). But the rest of the band easily keeps up, deftly trading blows between power metal-ready gallops, violent swings into thrash territory, and all manner of other pyrotechnics to make Beyond the Will of Mortals Volcandra’s most versatile and varied offering yet. To some, this may create a disjointed experience as rippers like “Mage of Fabled Sorcery” contrast in pacing and personality to its neighbors. However, with repeat listens that effects dissolves, making more room to appreciate how much fun this record really is. The back half capitalizes on that effect, unleashing lean and mean banger after banger to leave you salivating for another round (“Within the Webs,” “Infinite Decadence”). In sum, Beyond the Will of Mortals is a fine, invigorating inclusion into anyone’s rotation; so if you missed it, get on it now!

Creeping Ivy’s Punkyard Dogs

Dead Bob // Nothing Changes Everything [April 21st, 2026 – Wrong Records]

In The Collector’s Guide to Heavy Metal, Martin Popoff describes Wrong (1989) by Nomeansno as ‘the mightiest merger between the hateful aggression of punk and the discipline of heavy metal’ (316). Essentially, Popoff affixed to Wrong AMG’s Iconic label: 10/10.1 For readers perhaps unfamiliar with Nomeansno, my best follow-up on Popoff’s portrayal is that the band—formed in 1979 by the Wright brothers (Rob on bass/vocals, John on drums/vocals)—sounds like The Minutemen hijacked a Voivod. After an incredible eleven-album run, Nomeansno officially retired in 2016. Why am I wasting my word count with this history lesson on the greatest Canadian punk band of all time? Because Dead Bob, John Wright’s solo project, released its sophomore album this April. Whereas Life Like fulfills the vision of one man, John enlisted a band for Nothing Changes Everything. Bookending the album are the last two songs John co-wrote with Rob. The techy guitar/bass interplay of lead-off “Centre of the Universe,” as well as the pounding rhythms of closer “No Fun (Alt Mix),” come closest to the punk/metal hybridity of vintage Nomeansno. Between these tracks, the album gets increasingly weird (which is to say, it gets increasingly ‘punk,’ in the word’s original connotation). “Nothing Changes Everything” deploys horns, “Hard is Hard” mixes art/surf rock, and “The Present” sprinkles psychedelic guitar leads over pulsing synths and tribal percussion. If you’re a fan of avant-garde music in a compact package, you can’t go wrong with Nothing Changes Everything.

Poison Ruïn // Hymns from the Hills [April 3rd, 2026 – Relapse Records]

Whilst reading Tyme‘s (excellent) review of Twin Serpent’s (super fun) True Norwegian Blackgrass, a member of the commentariat reminded me of how much I enjoyed Poison Ruïn’s latest offering upon a first listen. That comment got me to revisit Hymn from the Hills, and I’m glad I did. To sell these Philly post-punks to the AMG Faithful, I’ll point out a few things: they’re signed to Relapse Records, they curate a medieval aesthetic (which includes deploying dungeon synths), and the new record was mastered by Arthur Rizk. In addition to liberal metal elements, Poison Ruïn occasionally stride with rock n’ roll swagger (“Hymn from the Hills”), with primary visionary Mac Kennedy channeling Blue Öyster Cult in his role as singer, guitarist, and primary songwriter (“Lily of the Valley”). “Eidolon” perfectly exemplifies the band’s hybridity, mashing up the melody of “Layla,” the propulsive drive of Hüsker Dü, and the rhythmic punctuations of “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” This may sound like a critique, but it’s not; Poison Ruïn excels at mixing punk, rock, and metal into their own arthouse concoction. Metal purists might have to wait until the end of the album, though, to have their fancy truly tickled. But wait, they should, as “Sleeping Giant (Interlude)” offers funeral doom content in a punk-sized package, while closer “The Standoff” gets moving with a wicked blast beat. I’ll definitely be heading for these post-punk hills more and more throughout the year.

Scimitar // Scimitarium II [April 24th, 2026 – Crypt of the Wizard]

Scimitar’s first song receptacle was one of my favorite debuts of 2025. On Scimitarium I, this Danish five-piece served up a scintillating selection of ‘black occult rock,’ combining the caustic fervor of Malokarpatan with the psychedelic haze of Blue Cheer, topped off with a post-punk flavoring of Joy Division. A year later, this Copenhagen cutter returns with Scimitarium II, a follow-up that satisfyingly mirrors the album-art format of its predecessor. Whereas Scimitarium I demonstrated range marred a bit by roughshod production, volume II sounds much sharper, slashing and dashing for a lean 40 minutes. The opening title track introduces our combatants: the dexterous drumming of CCsquele; the counter-melodic bass of Olle Bergholz; the sinister guitar fury of Johan L. Ekstrand and Anders M. Jørgensen; and finally, the commanding vocals of Shaam A.2 From there, the album rips through a trio of unrelenting ragers that feel like they can fall apart at any minute but miraculously hold together. “Through Lava Lit Roads to Lavilenda, Pt. II” offers the only reprieve, spotlighting Shaam’s dynamic range and impressive timbre. Closing out the collection is “Mobula Mobular,” a 13-minute monster built around a doomy riff whose chromaticism lurches upward and downward, to hypnotizing effect. If Scimitar can marry the ambition of I with the ferocity of II next time around, they’ll have a blackened-trad killer on their hands.

Andy-War-Hall’s Dandy Score Haul

Elegant Weapons // Evolution [April 24th, 2026 – Exciter Records]

Everything about Elegant Weapons and the super group’s sophomore record Evolution is a misnomer. Evolution is a high-octane slugfest of tried-and-true heavy metal-leaning hard rock, and Elegant Weapons swing, punch, and bite through it with everything but grace. Is this a problem? When Richie Faulkener’s (Judas Priest) riffs are as groovy and burly as ever and his solos as grin-inducing, Ronnie Romero’s (ex-Rainbow, ex-Michael Schenker Group) voice is booming as it is, and when Dave Rimmer (Uriah Heep) and Christopher Williams’ (Accept) bass and drums respectively, carry as tight a pulse as they do on Evolution, not at all. When it all coalesces into uber catchy fist-pumping anthems like “Bridges Burn,” “The Devil Calls,” and “Shooting Shadows,” especially so. Evolution is easy-peasy listening, and Elegant Weapons’ chemistry and knack for hookcraft make its near hour-long runtime fly by, as well as ease the cringe of the hyper-Boomeristic lyricism on “Generation Me.” They also manage to make fairly stock power ballads in “Come Back to Me” and “Keeper of the Keys” feel affecting, driven by a viral vocal presence and emotive, timeless guitar soloing. Evolution is fun, and Elegant Weapons are sharp. ‘Nuff said.

Demon Spell // Blessed Be the Dark [April 24th, 2026 – Dying Victims Productions]

Creeping from an obscure, ancient, and sinister darkness, Sicily’s Demon Spell have conjured a shadow-cast era of heavy metal’s history back to the light of day with their debut Blessed Be the Dark. Wielding the evil auras of Mercyful Fate and Witchfinder General, Demon Spell play an early-80s melange of early thrash, occult rock, and NWoBHM riffcraft and swagger. Blessed Be the Dark is driven by excellent performances. Vocalist Federico Fano’s falsetto wails evoke King Diamond at his best on “As Lucifer Smiles” while drummer Dario Casabona drops slick, pummeling fills over “Curse of the Undead.” Sinister melodies and atmospheres abound on Blessed Be the Dark, with “The Tolling” and “Hexes and Horrors” driving home a vintage horror aesthetic while tearing it up with blistering heavy metal. Blessed Be the Dark also just sounds pleasantly old. Demon Spell’s guitars and bass sound pulled straight from 1981, complementing their retro songcraft perfectly. Blessed Be the Dark sounds like the night come alive, a fast, fun, and delightfully dark exploration of the kinds of heavy metal that gave your grandma panic attacks back in the day. Fall under the Demon Spell today!

Grin Reaper’s Grim Goodies

Nervosa // Slave Machine [April 3rd, 2026 – Napalm Records]

For a band releasing their sixth album in twelve years, Nervosa sounds remarkably vital. Staying the course with a dozen tracks of their signature death/thrash, Slave Machine burns through forty-three minutes of whammy dives, soaring leads, and all-around thrashy goodness. Writing tunes that pay homage to Sepultura (“You Are Not a Hero”), Kreator (“Ghost Notes”), and Sodom (“The Call”), Nervosa bludgeons with blunt-force drama while touting slick riffs and venomous melodies. Slave Machine opens with “Impending Doom,” a stirring salvo that Arch Enemy wishes they’d written, and from there Nervosa hints at the familiar without ever straying from their own lane. “Hate” starts with a riff that simultaneously reminds of Maiden’s “Flash of the Blade” and System of a Down’s “B.Y.O.B.” before spiraling into vaguely In Flames-tinged melodeath. Meanwhile, “Crawling for Your Pride” and “Beast of Burden” draw from the viciousness of mid-aughts Soulfly. Over and over, Nervosa pulls from known sources, yet bakes enough novelty into their songwriting to sound fresh and pummeling. Those intimate with Nervosa won’t find many surprises here, but are in for a treat. If this is your first encounter with these Brazilian badasses, gird your ears and strap in—welcome to the Slave Machine.

Kõdu // Kirjad Sõgedate Külast [April 20th, 2026 – Antiq Records]

Five years after delivering debut Unusta Kõik, Estonian outfit Kõdu graces us with their sophomore album. Translated as ‘Letters from the Village of the Blind,’3 Kirjad Sõgedate Külast details the sordid ruination of a backwoods village, relating its narrative aspects through a series of letters where each song chronicles a different villager’s perspective.4 Kõdu grounds the lyrics in their native language, drawing from nineteenth and twentieth-century Estonian poets for inspiration. Despite the depth of the macabre backdrop, I never would have taken the time to learn more if Kõdu’s music hadn’t entranced me from the outset. Slow-burn black metal abounds on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast, recalling Dødheimsgard’s shifting moods (“II”) and eclectic instrumentation (“III”) muddled with Wayfarer’s rustic arrangements (“VI”) and Emperor’s dramatic flair (“V”). Musically, Kirjad Sõgedate Külast conjures lush soundscapes (“VII”) through considered songwriting, expertly balancing black metal discharges with melancholic passages that give moments just the right amount of time to bludgeon or breathe before pivoting. I regret not getting the chance to review Kõdu’s latest in full, because the folk magic they weave on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast deserves fanfare and kudõs aplenty.

ClarkKent’s Epic Elegy

Bloody Valkyria // Requiem – Reveries Of The Dying [April 3rd, 2026 – Northern Silence Productions]

Bloody Valkyria, the product of Finland’s Jere Kervinen, peddles in the same sort of epic symphonic/folk black metal that the likes of Ancient Mastery, Stormkeep, and Moonlight Sorcery dish out. Kervinen’s emotionally charged project appears inspired by a personal loss, and you can feel his passion in the emotional outpouring of his music and lyrics. On the epic opener, “Symphony of Silence,” Bloody Valkyria reveal their capability with the patient slow burn. There’s the natural, serene ambience of animal sounds, strings, folky flutes, and then a sudden explosion of riffs and blast beats. And boy does Kervinen write some extraordinary leads, which makes his slow-burn approach all the more rewarding. Each song contains a well-earned hooky riff/trem that holds its sway over you even as the song grows into more thoughtful serenity. Reading along with Kervinen’s poetic, touching lyrics makes the experience all the more poignant as he ruminates on death and the meaning of life. The grief by the end, as he sings about his “beloved north” and a desire for its/her embrace, is palpable. This is a beautiful record that may be too good for these dirty filters, but I just couldn’t risk it getting lost in the shuffle of the chaos that is the end of year.

Crying Steel can arguably claim to be one of Italy’s first heavy metal bands, with roots running all the way back to 1982. They didn’t drop their first album until 1987, and it took them until 2007 to release a follow-up, but true steel never rusts. I became aware of them when I reviewed 2018s Stay Steel, and I was entertained by their 80s-centric metal sound. It’s taken them a lot of time to unleash the next beast, but fifth album, Agent Steel, is finally ready to rumble. Since their last outing, well-traveled vocalist Tony Mills (T.N.T., Siam) sadly passed away, and now Tiziano “Hammerhead” Sbaragli assumes mic duties. Guitarist JJ Frati is also absent, so there’s a lot of change in the air at Camp Steel. You know what hasn’t changed? Their love for the color purple and crap-tastical album art, and their commitment to creating hard-rocking 80s metal that sits somewhere between vintage Saxon and Krokus, with a splash of hair metal for bonus flair points. That should make for a spicy metal meatball, right?

The Crying Steel formula is a simple and time-honored one. Write a few burly riffs and base an anthemic 80s-style metal/hard rock tune around them with over-the-top vocals as the exclamation point. Opener “The Arrival” sets the stage nicely via meaty riffs with Hammerhead soaring over the top like a young Biff Byford with a slight Ripper Owens infection. The man has pipes and an enormous Italian accent, and luckily, he knows how to avoid chronically oversinging and stepping on every moment. It also helps that the band peppers the lyrics with steel this, steel that in true Manowar fashion. As Agent Steel unfolds, you get variations on this theme with a big dose of hard rock undergirding the writing, along with a decent ear for hooks. “You Got the Look”1 is rowdy and pretty silly, and I love how Hammerhead makes the chorus sound like “You got the LUKE!” “Under Cover” sounds like early 80s Saxon with a glossy makeover, “To Remember” is a balls-to-the-walls rocker with relentless Grave Digger-style riffs paired with a hair metal ethos, and “Coming Home” feels heavier and just cooler with added oomph in the riffs/vocals and a memorable chorus to boot.

The album wraps with Crying Steel trying their hand at a Primal Fear-style Euro-power burner on “No One’s Crying,” and to get the point across, they bring Ralph Scheepers himself in to do guest vocals. It’s the most aggressive song on the album, and Ralph completely steals the show. It makes you wish the band would dial things up like this more often. Not everything works so well, though. ESL mega-disaster “My Heart Steel Rocks” is a hugely awkward attempt at stadium metal that veers close to Manowar-levels of macho self-aggrandization. It’s entertaining but also awful. Another ESL faceplant hits with “Queen of Grinder,” and I don’t know what it’s really about, but it leaves lots of room for hilarious interpretations. The song itself is just okay. At a trim 41 minutes with all tracks in the 3-4 minute frame, the writing is tight, and hooks are plentiful across Agent Steel. It’s an easy listen, even if the overall style can feel very dated, and at times, corny.

Franco Nipoti and new axe Paolo Nocchi are the lifeblood of the Crying Steel sound, pumping out an endless string of 80s-centric riffs to anchor the songs and keep your head bobbing. I appreciate that they keep enough heft in the guitar sound to give things a decent edge, and they know how to write good leads and shred when needed. They paint with every color of the 80s and induce nostalgia at every turn. Tiziano “Hammerhead” Sbaragli does a fine job rocking a high-pitched nasally delivery that could become really annoying, yet he manages not to grate on the nerves much, and his performance adds an extra jolt of energy to the material. The biggest weapon in the band’s weapon kit is the ability to write memorable retro metal tunes that get by on excess when they can’t with mere nuance. This stuff is just too fun to resist, even when things get a bit too cheese-heavy.

Agent Steel is another successful journey into the past by a crew of metal lifers who keep going regardless of the scant recognition they receive. I hope Crying Steel are well-regarded back home, because they bring the cheddar surplus while defending the faith in all things olde and metallic. I admire that. Keep those iron tears falling like purple rain, boyos!

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pride & Joy
Websites: cryingsteel.com | facebook.com/cryingsteel | instagram.com/cryingsteelband
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

In Vespro – Where Silence Used to Sleep Review

In a week where I was forced to bail on my half of a double review of Warning’s…
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In Vespro – Where Silence Used to Sleep Review

In a week where I was forced to bail on my half of a double review of Warning’s…
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In Vespro – Where Silence Used to Sleep Review

In a week where I was forced to bail on my half of a double review of Warning’s…
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In a week where I was forced to bail on my half of a double review of Warning’s righteous comeback due to time constraints, a new band from Italy found their way into my ears and heart, offering succor and sweet redemption. In Vespro play doom-death in the vein of early Katatonia, Paradise Lost, and my much beloved Rapture. On their Where Silence Used to Sleep debut, they pull out all the stops to make a tried-and-true style sound as fresh in 2026 as it did back in 1993. Featuring members of Svart Vinter and Veil of Conspiracy,1 In Vespro demonstrate a firm grasp of the sadboi essentials, crafting anthems to despair, loss, and hopelessness with hooks that stick in your swollen tear ducts and keep you hanging around for all the weepy unhappiness. That’s how you get Steel in the yard to have a good cry!

As soon as opener “Fading Hollow” takes flight, you’re cast back to Katatonia’s Brave Murder Day era for a sullen simmer in the crockpot of eternal sadness. It’s instantly likeable and after a few spins, lovable. The morose riffs and glum harmonies conjure the melancholies, and frontman Luca Gagnoni’s vocals are perfect; no clean singing, just a wounded death roar. Can you complain that it’s too close to the Brave Murder Day sound? No, because that way madness lies. “Ghost Inside Tomorrow” is like a long-lost Rapture song, and that gets my full attention. The heaving, sighing guitars also bear the pungent stench of prime Paradise Lost. “Absence Becomes Her” keeps the dour times rolling with an upbeat pace, but the mood remains despondent, even when they spice things up with some unexpectedly noodly guitar work.

By the album’s mid-point, I was so impressed that I started to doubt the second half could keep pace. It does, with killer cuts like “Beneath the Unseen,” which feels deceptively simple on first exposure, led by some very Paradise Lost-adjacent guitar lines, but it does just enough with the classic melodoom formula to make things percolate with pain and remorse. “Ashes of the Dawn” is another textbook example of how to write effective melodoom and make it stick to the ribs. It’s unhurried and grim, but the melody in the weepy guitars carries you along effortlessly from segment to segment. “The Last Light” could’ve fallen off the back of the Draconian Times tour van, so you know that’s a win. Happily, no song feels like filler, and the album functions well as a whole. At a tight, trim 40 minutes and with all songs in the 3-5 minute window, the album moves at a near-perfect pace, and no song overstays its welcome. In fact, several cuts are all the better for their brevity, leaving you wanting more. The production is great with a warm sound and a mix that allows the guitars the weight and space they need for maximum effect, while leaving plenty of room for everything else to breathe.

The guitar tandem of Luca Gagnoni and Emanuaels Marino is a talented one, spinning somber leads that submerge the soul in icy grave water. The harmonies are subtle but impactful and funerary, and the sudden flashes of semi-wanky solos are a nice surprise. Gagnoni is aces as a melodoom vocalist, moving effectively between early days Jonas Renkse and Nick Holmes death bellows and more acerbic blackened wails. There’s no clean singing whatsoever, only occasional spoken word segments. This isn’t an issue, but a few forlorn singing stanzas would make for a nice change-up. If there’s a complaint to be made, it’s how close In Vespro cleave to their obvious influences. It’s impossible to spin this and not hear Katatonia and Rapture looming large in the writing, but when it’s done well, does it really matter? The short answer is fook no.

Where Silence Used to Sleep is a very impressive debut from In Vespro, and it’s quite an effective mood piece album. Mark it as one of those unheralded and happy surprises the promo sump vomits forth when the stars align and the tentacles favor the bold. I may have missed my chance to weigh in on Warning, but I caught this dark beauty as a consolation prize. Life is good (and sad).

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: invespro.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/invesprodoom | instagram.com/invespro_doommetal
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

Wow, I haven’t thought of this band in a looooong time. Known for being plagued with vocal lineup changes—even alternating between female and male leads—the last time I caught up with Italy’s Opera IX was right before the infamous Cadaveria quit. Before she began her own gothic-infused band, Cadavaria haunted every dark corner of stellar Opera IX records, like Sarco Culto and The Black Opera: Symphoniae Mysteriorum in Laudem Tenebrarum. You wouldn’t be able to tell by Cadaveria’s (the band) output, but the woman had a horrifying approach to black metal vocals. So much so that I can still hear them in my head. Those days ended shortly after she vacated the band, and the long-time guitarist took to the mic. Risky move that did not work. That’s when I walked away. Nowadays, it appears the band has gone back to the female variety and, hopefully, buried the male leads forever. So, I decided I’d give them a try and see where they’ve been the last twenty-six years.

For the last couple of albums, the band has been utilizing the voice of Dipsas Dianaria. They must like her because they decided to re-record 2015’s Back to Sepulcro in 2025. For what reason, I don’t know? To erase Abigail Dianaria’s voice from a bunch of originally re-recorded shit no one wanted? Is this fucking Iced Earth? Anyway, after goofing around wth re-recorded old shit and re-re-recorded old shit, this year’s Veneficium comes to us with ten original tracks, a 50-plus-minute runtime, and a… Black Sabbath cover? Not sure I understand that last part, but here we go.

There’s one thing that’s apparent on the first listen of Veneficium: we’ve come a long way from the ferocity of Cadaveria’s piss-spitting vocals and the band’s unique blend of black, death, doom, and goth. While Dianaria can achieve similar fluctuations in vocals (rasps, growls, and cleans), it’s far more rare to see it in a single track. That said, few can achieve that kind of vocal chaos as Cadaveria and Cradle of Filth’s Dani Filth. But, after the eerie, witchcrafty opener, “Vocatio Mortuorum” sees Dianaria attempting just that. Loaded with synths and orchestral layers akin to Dimmu Borgir, this track follows a mid-paced journey to see who can command it: the guitars and drums, or the keys. It has some redeeming qualities here and there, but the goofy, circusy, Cradle of Filth approach on the backend kinda kills it for me.

On the other side of the coin, “Saltatio Corvi” does a fantastic job making it all work and stick. While it contains the same kinds of orchestral elements, relentless guitar and drum work, and alternating vocal styles, it stands out for an addictive character that is pushed to eleven with the clever help of a nyckelharpa. It also uses much more of Dianaria’s vocals than previous tracks. For something with a bit more bruising power, “Defixiones” and “Asphodelios” do the trick with aggressive, headbangable passages that make them stand out above others. Specifically, the dark, melodic atmosphere of “Defixiones” and the death metal interlude and brawling vocals of “Asphodelios.”

After taking everything into account, Veneficium is a fairly standard sympho-black record that does little to make one erect. While some interesting elements have me revisiting a few ditties, the new Dimmu Borgir record does far more in just a handful of tracks versus the entirety of Veneficium. Outside the tracks mentioned, the one that stands out the most is the cover of Black Sabbath’s “Black Sabbath.” The vocals do a fine job of following in Ozzy’s footsteps, while the doomy qualities of the song remind me of where Opera IX used to be. Those good ole days when no one else knew about this band, and I was happy to have it that way. Now, they’re basically blending in with the rest, which is a shame. That said, there’s something here for those who follow the genre. It just takes a few spins to find it.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Edged Circle Productions | Bandcamp
Websites: operaix.it | facebook.com/officialoperaIX
Releases Worldwide: May 22nd, 2026

Nearly a decade has passed since Italian black metal project Lorn last graced these halls. Arrayed Claws greatly impressed the sage Eldritch Elitist back in 2017, who praised its “caustic edge and sheer strangeness.” The man behind the project, Radok, seems to have been relatively quiet in the last nine years, but I don’t think he was idle. In the intervening years, I think Radok has been watching and listening, and he’s found the present lacking. In an endless ocean of new content, Radok sees naught but an arid desert, devoid of depth. On Lorn’s fourth full-length, Searing Blood, Radok promises to reject modernity’s vapid content singularity and conceptually return to black metal’s roots. Is Searing Blood an oasis in the desert, or is it just a mirage?

Those returning to Lorn will immediately notice some differences between Arrayed Claws and Searing Blood. First and foremost, Radok’s newest effort actually has a low end. Where Arrayed Claws was almost grating in its shrill and disquieting tone, Searing Blood rumbles and shakes the ground upon which it stands. This makes for a more physically enjoyable experience, avoiding the listener fatigue that threatened Arrayed Claws. Fans will also clock the shift from fairly distilled black metal toward the atmospheric variety. Radok’s 8-string guitar is still a deeply unsettling force to reckon with (“Haderburg”), but there’s an unexpected tenderness to Searing Blood. While it’s not uncommon for atmoblack bands to focus on the majesty of nature, Radok approaches it through a lens of disillusionment with contemporary life, weaving a sense of loss, betrayal, and impotent outrage into Searing Blood.

Change isn’t always a good thing, but it is on Searing Blood. While Lorn does pay homage to the past with brilliantly discordant melodicism (“Searing Blood,” “Leuchtenburg”), an increased prevalence of synths and the introduction of new elements well-suited to atmospheric spaces allow Lorn greater breadth of expression. “Leuchtenburg” channels Panopticon with metal-stringed chords that hint at a synth-backed, acoustic interlude. Draped in the gothic tones of Unto Others, picked leads on “Gallows” float in and out, evoking a beautiful sense of tension and anxiety. Airy, choral synths and ringing melodies bestow instrumental “Ordo Draconis” with a magical, otherworldly quality. Through it all, Searing Blood’s heart of aching tremolos and agonizing screams adeptly evokes the Romantic’s view of Modernity, an indictment of what is and a yearning for what was.

Lorn’s exploration of a new form isn’t without its stumbles, though. The acoustic interlude in “Leuchtenburg” is a little long, and the synths can distract from the strings. At over nine minutes, “Gallows” similarly sags under its own weight, and “Ordo Draconis” features a jarring transition that only leads to a mismatched back half. Sample usage is a bit heavy-handed,1 and Searing Blood wouldn’t suffer for their omission. Lorn also relies heavily on certain compositional decisions, robbing them of their impact. Short lulls that explode into a furious bridge appear far more often than they should, even multiple times in a single track (“Gallows,” “Threshold’s Tragedy”). And while I appreciate a good fade out, ending every song that way grows stale quickly.

Searing Blood isn’t what I expected. I had prepared to be unsettled and challenged, but I was instead guided through a poignant and emotive journey. Both novel and familiar, Searing Blood presents a surprisingly singular vision. Rather than simply refining Lorn’s particular flavor of dissonant black metal, Radok tills new soil with well-worn tools. Lorn’s new direction is compelling, missteps aren’t fatal, and there’s ample room for Radok to both improve and continue exploring this space. A tighter and more varied composition would aid any future efforts. Searing Blood won’t necessarily drop any jaws, but for those on the fence, it should convince you to keep an eye on Lorn.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps
Label: I, Voidhanger Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

Ignobleth – Manor of Primitive Anticreation Review

You may note that I haven’t published a full review in more than a week. You may also…
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You may note that I haven’t published a full review in more than a week. You may also note that my most recent contribution to AMG Productions was a ranking for the best of death metal’s old guard. You may peek at the score below and question my ability to remain objective in light of my recent musical diet. But worry not, dear reader! Objectivity is my prime objective, Fairness and Justice my guiding lights. You can rest assured that this review of Ignobleth’s debut LP, Manor of Primitive Anticreation, contains naught but Unbiased and Very Correct Opinions™.

Hailing from northern Italy, Ignobleth peddles a unique blend of black and death metal. This trio, comprised of A.L. on guitar, A.B. on bass and vocals, and M.O. on drums, combines the esoteric psychosis of Ritual Ascension with the grime and filth of Rotpit and an HM2 pedal. The result is a worship service held in the darkest recesses of a city sewer system. Murky, mangy riffs echo and multiply as they careen down lightless, sweating passageways, and haunted rasps reverberate in the mire. Together, Ignobleth creates an oppressive and turbid atmosphere, most acutely felt on “Proselyte Pig I” and “And the Lunar Mass Shatters.” The loping, swinging main riff of the former evokes gothic, vaudevillian horror, while M.O.’s icy kit work on the latter encourages eldritch panic.

Speaking of M.O., his percussive assault is perhaps the highlight of Manor of Primitive Anticreation, but not for the reason you might think. Indeed, he effortlessly oscillates between blackened blasts, death-infused rhythms, and punky beats (“Warped Abyssal Architecture,” “Forked Tongues”), but the predominance of the drums here is largely a result of a very subpar production job. Vocals and drums are centered on an unnecessarily wide sound stage with strings as far left and right as they can go, and as a result, each track feels less like a cohesive song and more like instruments playing at the same time. And while A.L.’s guitar is fairly clear when spotlighted for leads and hooks, the second the rest of the band joins in, it becomes barely audible mush. Prime examples include “Obelisk of Deformity,” which, during faster paced sections, becomes a wall of indeterminable sound, and “Proselyte Pig II,” which drowns its main riff in vat of sludge, such that I can barely hear more than two notes when I know A.L. is playing several more.

Would that the woes of Manor of Primitive Anticreation stopped there. Ignobleth includes an intro and three separate interludes on an album spanning only 11 tracks (“Intro,” “Spores,” “Interlude: Lecherous Sex Magick,” and “Manor of Primitive Anticreation”1). Interludes and ambient pieces can work, but here, they’re little more than minorly spooky synths, garbled spoken word, and choral bits that annoyingly interrupt the main course. Manor of Primitive Anticreation boldly includes even more ambience in the outro of “And the Lunar Mass Shatters,” and the last two minutes of album closer, “Among the Seventy-Two Embalmed Ekpyrotic Gods.” Even if the pacing were tighter and less stilted, the songwriting itself leaves much to be desired. Repetition runs rampant through the album (“Among…,” “Proselyte Pig I,” “Obelisk of Deformity”), blunting riffs and passages that could have bitten much harder. There’s also an overreliance on wordless howls over mildly furious instrumental sections. It’s so frequent that song structures seem composed almost entirely of bridges and solos with few verses or choruses to be found, compounding the album’s repetitive tendencies.

This has been a frustrating album to work with. While Ignobleth’s tone is deliciously vile, the songwriting and production leave me deeply disappointed. Over several spins, I got the distinct impression that Manor of Primitive Anticreation isn’t blackened death metal so much as something that sounds vaguely like it. It’s fine in the background, but direct attention reveals it to be a shallow imitation. Much of Manor of Primitive Anticreation seems geared toward a live audience—song structures, tone, prevalence of blast beats—and I have no doubt that it fucks quite hard in such a setting. Unfortunately, this style does not translate well to a studio production, much less the review process.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Caligari Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

The Great Observer – Loss of Transcendence Review

There are few concepts in the Western tradition as misunderstood as that of “the death…
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https://www.europesays.com/uk/930648/ The Great Observer – Loss of Transcendence Review #20 #2026 #Apr26 #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BlackenedThrashMetal #BlackSeedProductions #DeathMetal #diSEMBOWELMENT #Entertainment #ItalianMetal #LossOfTranscendence #MorbidAngel #music #Necrophobic #Review #Reviews #TheGreatObserver #ThrashMetal #TombMold #UK #UnitedKingdom

There are few concepts in the Western tradition as misunderstood as that of “the death of God.” It is not a triumphant proclamation, nor a call for apathetic nihilism. What has been coined in recent online discourse as a ‘meaning crisis’ is only barely getting the point. The Loss of Transcendence—some universal, ultimate, mind-independent Truth and set of values—is a beginning, an event that should prompt critical thought and action and confrontation of a human condition that we sedate ourselves out of with belief in a higher power or sense and reason in the universe; hope; or the rescinding of responsibility to the idea that ‘nothing matters.12 The Great Observer seem to have done their homework for the most part, with their debut channeling their thrashy blackened death into a philosophical call to action that blends Existentialism with Stoicism and Epicureanism. Fresh on the scene and immediately going all-in in aggression and storytelling, what can The Great Observer give to us?

On the face of it, Loss of Transcendence is standard black/death/thrash, with a rotating emphasis on each of those three components. Sticking primarily to up-tempo, gritty riffing in a vein somewhere between Necrophobic, Tomb Mold, and Morbid Angel—though a less flashy iteration—The Great Observer do nonetheless find time to linger in some cavernousness that vaguely recalls Disembowelment. They further emphasise their mean streak with a pervasive vocal echo that adds to the grime of the throaty howls and is compounded during the many instances when such vocals are multi-tracked or delivered as a group. But not all of this energy is used in service of evil; there’s a strong anthemic side to these choruses and a jaunty bombast to many a beat. In many ways, it gives off the aura of classical extreme metal—back when Black Metal was an album title, and ugliness, speed, and aggression were the name of the game in a fundamentally different way to how they are now. And yet, under the layers of dirt and behind the malevolence lie small seeds of nuance, and it is to Loss of Transcendence’s great detriment that they remain scattered seeds alone.

Loss of Transcendence flirts with many things—intrigue, atmosphere, tenacity—but never quite wins any of them over. Riffs generally check boxes for pugnacity, but even at their most brutish and slick (“The Great Observer,” “Impervious Creation”), they have no edge, no force. At the worst end, guitar lines are entirely blunt thanks to nondescript, generic-sounding melodies and patterns (“Herald of Thorns,” “How Far the Faithless will Venture”). It’s unfortunate that all of the best guitar sits in the record’s back half, with “Impervious Creation” and “The Weight of Being Free” delivering shimmying, sliding shredding capable of winning over the harshest of critics, and the latter track featuring a genuinely beautiful, buttery smooth solo that combines everything great about grimy yet gorgeous extreme metal. The frequent use of group vocals, which sometimes creates an impressive miasma of harrowing calls (“Impervious Creation,” title track), falls awkwardly flat when delivered as rousing shouts (“Sentenced at High Noon,” “At The Summit of Consciousness,” “The Weight…”) thanks to the latter’s surprising corniness. The Great Observer also experiment in an exasperatingly random manner with distortion, with a liquid, Worm-adjacent effect appearing in random snatches never to develop (“Parénklisis (Fallen Into Existence),” “How Far…,” “The Weight…,” title track); and the worst part is that it’s good! The pace, generally high, is also stymied by not one but two synth-heavy instrumentals as “Parénklisis…” opens the album with a gravitas that never appears again, and “Ékstasis (The Lonesome Path)” needlessly presses pause for two minutes of ambience and whispering.

In reality, Loss of Transcendence feels frustratingly lukewarm. A mix that pushes guitars erratically between the far background and the very forefront, and a baffling decision3 to layer vocal tracks and reverb like lasagna over these riffs (“The Great Observer,” “Sentenced at High Noon,” “The Weight…,” title track) makes what could be decent blackened death sound almost poor. Almost the only time the guitars sound good is when they sound great, soloing in sudden clarity (“Sentenced…,” “Impervious Creation”) and with fluent expressiveness (“The Weight…,”), and these highlights appear exclusively in the second half. Given this, it becomes harder to forgive the swing of strangely upbeat gang shouts (“Sentenced…,” “Herald of Thorns”) and a brusque attitude to riff-writing that tends to shy away from character.

It’s always a shame when a concept I’m particularly interested in is delivered in mediocre form. Loss of Transcendence strikes as an album that would have had heads spinning and Bibles being reached for in the early 90s but now its grit cannot make up for its shortcomings. Failing to develop their best ideas and sidelining their assets far too often, The Great Observer still haven’t seen how to capitalise on their strengths, and Loss of Transcendence loses more than higher values as a result.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: BlackSeed Productions
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 30th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/uk/896460/ Vanderlust – The Human Farm Review #25 #2026 #Apr26 #BlindGuardian #DreamTheater #Entertainment #ItalianMetal #MassExcess #MeatLoaf #Megadeth #music #Ophelion #PowerMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #RockshotsRecords #S91 #TheHumanFarm #UK #UnitedKingdom #Vanderlust #Vektor

Aliens offer to take you away and give you a perfect—albeit short—life: do you say yes? According to Italian cosmic prog metal band Vanderlust, many of you would. “So, a bunch of people everywhere on Earth gave themselves” to the Coelacanths for that same offer, so opens The Human Farm. Several generations later, a human uprising leads to an escape from slavery and the discovery that the Coelacanths were all along harvesting Humans for their emotions. This isn’t meant to be funny. Vanderlust were deadset on telling a compelling sci-fi adventure in The Human Farm, enlisting guest keyboardist Francesco Londino (S91) and vocalist Martina Barreca (Mass Excess) to play the role of the Coelacanths. But did Vanderlust give us a sci-fi adventure for the ages with The Human Farm?

The gooey earnestness with which Vanderlust spill their adventure on The Human Farm is often matched by skill and musical vision. Vanderlust tear through speed-demonic numbers like “Viral Escape” or “Golden Shackles” with acerbically hooky, Vektor-gone-power-metal riffage while creating respite between the narrative beats with moody clean guitars and skittering drums on “The Turning Point” and “Connection Failed.” Guitarist Francesco Romeggini solos like mad on The Human Farm, shredding Megadethly over Blind Guardian riffs on the almost-instrumental “From the Cave – Fuga” and imbuing “Drive” with a gravitas and refinement. Bassist David Cantina and drummer Giacomo Mezzetti hold down Vanderlust’s rhythms, both driving (“Reborn…Again”) and groovy (“Humanity 3.0 – The New Canaan”) and shine on the “Battlefield”‘s bass solo and underlying fills. Ricca Morello’s vocals can get a bit mush-mouthed in the softer moments, but his power metal-inclined range and delivery crush the big moments, and Barreca’s death growls hit consistently, recalling Ophelion’s vocal duo on 2025’s The Jaunt. The Human Farm isn’t groundbreaking conceptually, but Vanderlust have the chops to tell their tale.

The Human Farm thrives in its biggest moments. Morello sounds his best when he goes all in, like on the Blind Guardian-coded power bonanza “Battlefield”1 and emotionally charged bookends “Humanity 2.0 – The Human Farm” and “Humanity 3.0 – The New Canaan.” Barreca’s growls add tons of punch to Vanderlust’s sound. When she trades lines with the choir on “Connection Failed” or clean sings on “Reborn…Again” and brings Meat Loaf melodrama to Dream Theater balladry, it feels so right. However, The Human Farm lulls when Vanderlust take the pedal off the metal. Momentum from “Golden Shackles” dissipates in the slow-burning of “The Turning Point” and doesn’t return until halfway through “Connection Failed,” and the barn-burning energy of “Viral Escape” is utterly deflated by the narrative interlude “…Find Them!”. However, Vanderlust are at any given time never too far off from another soaring crescendo, making The Human Farm an exciting listen, if not consistently so.

Vanderlust’s conceptual ambitions ultimately hinder The Human Farm, I feel. Vanderlust frequently dumb down musical ideas to allow narration more sonic space. This issue is exacerbated by the uniformly bad acting performances across The Human Farm, which resembles those 90s PC games where they just threw some interns into the booth. But even if the line reads were good, interjected into songs like “From the Cave – Fuga” and “Connection Failed,” they come off as a tacked-on concession to the story rather than an integral part of the music, coming off as distracting or even detrimental to the music. Vanderlust can do interesting things musically to tell their story, like having Barreca clean sing in “Reborn…Again” after the Coelacanths are defeated, reflecting them at their most vulnerable, or reworking the “Humanity 2.0…” motif into the end of “Humanity 3.0…,” where humankind has escaped captivity but find new challenges in freedom and lead some to question their revolution altogether.2 But for the most part, the way Vanderlust tell the story of The Human Farm detracts from what they do well: thrashy prog-power anthems.

If Vanderlust could hone their storytelling as well as their songwriting on The Human Farm, we’d have a great record on our hands. As is, there are too many conflicting elements in The Human Farm for more than a lukewarm recommendation, though there are fantastic songs throughout. Fans of prog-power will find things to like here, and Vanderlust is a band to keep an eye on, and I certainly will try to catch their third album should they make one. I’m not sure if Vanderlust have a Terminal Redux or Access All Worlds in them, but I wouldn’t put it past them either.



Rating: Mixed
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: V0 VBR mp3
Label: Rockshots Records
Websites: facebook.com/vanderlustofficial | soundcloud.com/vanderlust-music
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/uk/878820/ Nefastis – Shadows at the Light of Dawn Review #20 #2026 #AncientBards #Curta'nWall #DeathMetal #Entertainment #FleshgodApocalypse #ItalianMetal #Mar26 #MelodicDeathMetal #MoonlightHaze #music #Nefastis #Review #Reviews #RhapsodyOfFire #RockshotsRecords #ShadowsAtTheLightOfDawn #Sirenia #SymphonicDeathMetal #SymphonicMetal #Therion #UK #UnitedKingdom

CRUENTUS RE-EMERGES WITH "IN MYSELF"

Italian death/thrash metal band Cruentus from Bari, Italy, has released their new album "In Myself". Find out the tracklist and band members.

#Cruentus, #DeathMetal, #ThrashMetal, #NewAlbum, #ItalianMetal

https://newsletter.tf/italian-death-metal-band-cruentus-releases-new-album/

Dwellnought – Monolith of Ephemerality Review

In my hitherto short stint of indefinite indentured servitude in the hall, I’ve frequently noted the importance of…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.0 #2026 #BellWitch #blackeneddoommetal #BlutAusNord #CaligariRecords #Cough #Dwellnought #Entertainment #Feb26 #ItalianMetal #MonolithofEphemerality #Ossuary #review #Reviews #SufferingHour #Teitanblood #UK #UnitedKingdom
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/493429/

https://www.europesays.com/uk/848014/ Dwellnought – Monolith of Ephemerality Review #20 #2026 #BellWitch #BlackenedDoomMetal #BlutAusNord #CaligariRecords #Cough #Dwellnought #Entertainment #Feb26 #ItalianMetal #MonolithOfEphemerality #music #Ossuary #Review #Reviews #SufferingHour #Teitanblood #UK #UnitedKingdom

In my hitherto short stint of indefinite indentured servitude in the hall, I’ve frequently noted the importance of albums with narrative. In my younger days, I was a simp for albums with as many tracks as I could find. Deluxe editions? Yes please. Reissues, demos, covers, unreleased bonus cuts? Heck yeah, inject that right into my veins. It’s only as the responsibilities of adulthood overtook casual listening time that I began to appreciate albums with brevity, direction, and a distinct sense of a complete, full-bodied work. Well, everybody buckle in, because somewhere in the ether a big middle finger on a monkey’s paw has curled in my direction, by way of Italy’s Dwellnought, presenting their debut album Monolith of Ephemerality. Oh, we will go on a journey together, alright, but will there be anything left worth recounting of this Monolith on our return?

Despite an album title seemingly indebted to the more thesaurus-riddled branches of slam, Dwellnought actually traffic in a brand of feedback-drenched blackened doom. Atmospheric theatrics are the name of the game, with an album that seeks to deprive the listener of anything approaching light, optimism, or major keys. Rumbling feedback collapses into slow bpm plods with sustained trem-chords filling in the negative spaces in time for single cymbal/bass drum hits before eventually metamorphosing into an earthquake shattering riff while vocalist S bellows and wails from just beyond the mix. The doom takes the biggest prevalence as Monolith of Ephemerality rarely exceeds a brisk trot in pace, with any spurts of speed eventually devolving back into exhausted continuations.

Monolith of Ephemerality by DWELLNOUGHT

Such commitment to crippling atmosphere is admirable, but it comes at the expense of almost everything else. Dwellnought have attempted an unusual formula, channeling the claustrophobia of Teitanblood in production but channeled through an almost Bell Witch chord pacing with occasional flourishes of Ossuary crust-heaving. The formula finds its peak at the beginning, with long-form intro “Slumbering Through the Dream of Impermanence” flowing seamlessly into massive 17-minute barnburner “The Final Desire is Unbeing.” Here is the Dwellnought recipe at its most refined. The otherwise needlessly lengthy intro is atmospheric and mood-setting, with the oscillation of tempo and tone in its follow-up masterfully executed. Within this lengthy run comes segments heavily indebted to drum-machine era Blut Aus Nord gelling into a barbaric Cough waltz with effortlessness. This 20-minute kickoff shows real promise, evoking the abyss with texture as much as color, or lack thereof.

If only the rest of the album followed suit. The quality dip in the back three-fifths represents not a slope as much as a sudden drop-off where memorable songwriting is sacrificed utterly at the altar of mood. The dedication to the mood is palpable, as not one note approaches anything optimistic or upbeat, but in their avoidance of such things, Dwellnought also sidestep memorability or impact. “Crystalized Flesh Identities Condensed into Wombs of Matter” can’t make up its mind whether it wants to be fast or slow and has tempo changes marked more by indecision than deliberate arrangement. Both this and “Ill Whispers” frequently rely on chords ringing out via prolonged strum with minimalized drumbeats, but the notes are mixed so homogenously I struggle to tell if there are actual riffs or if Dwellnought are riding atonality into oblivion. The opening to both tracks borders on self-plagiarism in their similarity, and no single moment of menace comes close to matching the peak of the preceding songs. Additionally, Monolith of Ephemerality ends on a 6-minute assault of nothing but static and a grumbly voice speaking out of the void, which is wild since that’s exactly how “Crystalized Flesh…” ends as well. An attempt at a narrative is clear, and yet this climax is far from earned, given the drought of memorable set pieces to justify such a noise-rooted outro.

And yet, I keep coming back to those first twenty minutes. It takes balls the size of a bird of a plane of ClarkKent1 to open up your already longform album with your highest quality riffs. Had these two songs made up all of Monolith of Ephemerality as a single-track ep (not dissimilar to Suffering Hour’s Dwell, for example), this would make an excellent addition to the end-of-the-year EP roundups. There’s a genuine seed of promise in how Dwellnought have put their best foot forward, but the collapse in quality as the album continues cannot be denied. The mix is massive, the tone dark, the atmosphere oppressive, and the influences are a recipe for a good time. But somewhere along the way, Dwellnought stared so hard into the abyss that eventually even the abyss stopped staring back. All atmosphere and very little riffage, this album is an excellent reminder to be careful what we wish for.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Caligari Records
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: February 20th, 2026

Picture “black metal.” What do you see? Frigid wastelands illuminated by burning churches? Damp crypts beneath gothic cathedrals? Varg’s stupid backyard vlogs? One band would have you consider the picturesque slopes of Tuscany’s sunbathed Calvana mountain region. The anonymous duo of Italy’s Calvana have raised hell in the name of their treasured namesake mountains for over a decade and across two records, delivering belligerent blackened arts they describe as “trend-free,” “rough and robust,” and “never recalling anything remotely modern nor much else from the darkest past.” Their latest opus, Sub Janus, aims to continue this mission of esoteric aggression and deepest darkness, sounding older than even the oldest black metals do. Can Calvana bring defiant pride to their mountains, or should Sub Janus be left in the present-past?

I don’t buy the claim that Calvana are especially enigmatic in sound, but Sub Janus sounds distinct regardless. Evoking Celtic Frost darkness, serrating it with Venom rawness and supercharging it with Immortal aggression, Calvana play simple compositions brought to life by deep atmospheres and overwhelming force. Torrents of classic black metal tremolo blasts are a staple of Sub Janus, and songs like “My Prayer to Diana” and “Meine Süße Sternenkriegerin”1 rage with a take-no-prisoners attitude that showcases this mode of Calvana at their best. When not frothing over maddening speed, Calvana are practitioners of the slow and menacing, evident on the solemn death march of “Summer Storm” or the sinister, bowed string intro of “Carnivore.” Vocally, Calvana’s frontperson sounds like an old Universal monster, groaning and snarling slurred and theatrically all over Sub Janus, and accompanied by searing guitars and bottom-heavy bass Calvana sit in a niche thoroughly theirs while still playing within the tropes of the sub-genre.

Sub Janus by Calvana

Calvana draw from a refined selection of tricks for Sub Janus, lending the album both focus and, unfortunately, a feeling of déjà vu. Most songs move between two modes: starting slow and ending fast or starting fast and ending slow. Both “Twilight Song” and “Death of Pan” open with brief fanfare before bringing the hurt, folding arpeggios over cascading blast beats and walls of guitar before shifting halfway to a halftime pace. This approach is most effective on “Fear Makes You Tame,” where the slow turn sees most of the band drop out entirely while doomy strums and haunting tremolos ring out amidst a discord of tortured wails and screams. It’s silly, campy, but fun. Calvana’s approach of slow-to-fast works usually better, however, as “Summer Storm” and album-highlight “Sorry” build tension through subtle progression and eccentric rhythms that make their rise to full-speed riffage all the more cacophonous. This small playbook makes Sub Janus a repetitive affair. Songs with especially little going on, like “Meine Süße Sternenkriegerin,” “Twilight Song,” and the closer “Sub Janus,” feel substantially longer than their runtimes suggest. Calvana have something working with Sub Janus, but I wish that it had a little more going for that something.

But if Sub Janus is hampered by songwriting woes, then Calvana saved it with lively production and performances. Calvana’s analog production and emphasis on giving the full band a spotlight lends Sub Janus an earthy, full-bodied sound defined by enormity and dynamism. Everything feels just right in the mix, especially the bass guitar, which sounds burly and substantial. Black metal demands furious showmanship and Calvana deliver mightily, spitting hellfire on “Fear Makes You Tame” and lathering “Carnivore” in horror-film dread. This is especially true of the drummer, who plays out of their damn gourd on Sub Janus, pummeling lightning-fast fills on “Death of Pan,” exacting punishment upon their hated crash cymbals on “My Prayer to Diana” and thumping out one gnarly drum groove on “Sorry.” All of this, more than anything on Sub Janus, makes Calvana seem as ancient as they aimed to feel. Sub Janus feels like a relic lost to time, dug from the Earth, bearing an archaic dread and untamed vitriol still vital today.

Tuscany is a beautiful place, but Calvana would have you believe the sun never once shone there on Sub Janus. Its songwriting issues limit the replay value of Sub Janus, and my feelings toward the album have dimmed somewhat over the weeks, but the fire Calvana brought to it definitely makes me want to keep this band on my radar. A fun, dark, and decently paced romp, Sub Janus is worth the time of black metal fans who prefer their tunes musty and damp. Visit sunny blackened Calvana today!

Rating: Good
DR: 8 | Format: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Adirondack Black Mass
Websites: calvana.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/calvana
Release Date: March 20th, 2026

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

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

Kenstrosity’s Freaky Foursome

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

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

Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) by Upiór

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

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

Erde 666 by KadavriK

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

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

Like Crushed Violets and Linen by Luminesce

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

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

Daemon Breed by Bone Storm

Creeping Ivy’s Riffy Remainder

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

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

Ultra Soul by Lord Elephant

Andy-War-Hall’s Salvaged Windfall

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

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

Tékmés by Juodvarnis

Thus Spoke’s Obscure Offerings

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

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

In Unreality’s Coffin by Ectovoid

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

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

Sealed Into None by Exxûl

ClarkKent’s Canadian Catch

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

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

Mordoré by Turpitude

Grin Reaper’s Heavy Haul

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

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

Neverealm by Valiant Sentinel

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

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

Death Is Your Master by Fili Bibiano’s Fortress

Baguette’s Brutal Burglary

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

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

Abyss Call To Abyss by Skulld

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

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

Mountains Of Madness by Total Annihilation

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

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

Drifting Through Voids by Polaris Experience

Unlike some of our staff, I’ve never been in a band. However, I can imagine the feeling of satisfaction in putting together and releasing that first full-length record. For every band that achieves this milestone, countless more never do. Italy’s Borrower was nearly among that number. Formed in 1993, Borrower released three demos in the ’90s, a fourth in 2005, and then disappeared until 2018 with their debut EP. Whatever interrupted their musical career, the dream remained, and they finally released their first album (and signed to a label, to boot) 33 years later with their founding vocalist, Massano Ratano, and drummer, Frank Formoso, joined by new guitarists Matteo Marzo and Matteo Marini. Behold their vision, a story of killer, humanoid demons as told through music that harks back to some of the legends of ’80s and ’90s speed metal.

Granted, the concept of an album where each song tells a story about a distinctive demonic entity with its own unique “physical traits” and “specific weapon” is extremely silly, yet Killerdemons proves to be a catchy and cool affair. Borrower claim Motörhead, Judas Priest, and Dio as their main influences, and they write spare, riff-tastic tunes in their honor. The guitars carry much more heft than their influences, however, with enough reverb to take tunes dangerously close to stoner territory a lá High on Fire and Black Sabbath. This marriage between speed and stoner proves effective. “El Degollador” oscillates between lightning-fast, “Ace of Spades”-inspired riffs and slower, “War Pigs”-style stoner riffs in a performance that’s sure to give you whiplash. Taking a cue from AC/DC, Borrower keeps their song structures simple yet catchy. The rollicking “Stay Alive” best demonstrates this virtue with crisp songwriting and energetic pacing. Each track has distinctive riffs that are far more powerful than the demons it conjures.

In the eight years since their 2018 EP, A Plague Chapter…, Borrower has vastly improved their sound and instrumental prowess. The two Matteos have played a major role in this transformation. Marini’s fuzzy guitar tone adds heft where the EP’s guitars sounded tinny. His blending of Motörhead-style riffcrafting with the density of High on Fire and Mastodon adds an extra oomph to tracks like “Der Todessoldat” and “Tough Fight.” Marzo’s bass takes a commanding presence as well. He adds depth and backbone to the music, making his presence especially felt on the slower moments of “Knocking on the Coffins.” Formoso takes a restrained approach behind the kit, occasionally blasting the cymbals (“Dream on Fire”), but mostly setting the pace with an effective simplicity. The wild card of the group is vocalist Ratano. He seemingly channels Lemmy, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Fozzie Bear in a truly strange, yet somehow endearing performance. His Italian accent, which drags out the words “kee-ler dee-mons” during the chorus of “Killerdemons,” adds a level of camp that contributes to the goofy fun.

While Borrower keeps Killerdemons to a concise 36 minutes, the record does falter on the two songs that stray from the 3-4 minute range. The first, “Knocking on the Coffins,” has some memorable riffs, including a cool, old school solo, but at over five minutes, it drags on a bit too long. Positioned between the album’s two best tracks, it also proves to be a major momentum killer. The biggest sore thumb, however, is the six-plus minute finale, “A Chaos Vortex.” Not only does it lack memorable riffs, but it falters in its final two minutes as the band sorely misjudges when to best wrap it up. Trimming 2-3 minutes from each of these songs would have immensely improved the album’s otherwise incredible pacing.

As I established last month, metal tends to invite some weird characters, and the killer demon universe created here is certainly an odd one. But that’s also what makes metal so much fun. Bands feel free to try out their off-the-wall ideas, from literary– or video game-inspired themes to the creation of fantasy or sci-fi realms. And sometimes these ideas actually work. Borrower finally sees through their vision, or at least the start of it, and presents it in such a catchy, cool way. I love to see original ideas performed with such care and passion, and I hope these guys continue to cultivate their ideas and musical talents.



Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

#ThursDeath this week is the new LP by VEXITUM (one man project of Walt Dorian in Italy). This is a big death metal contender for me this year. Great oldschool feel, hooky, dynamic, cavernous as fuck, etc.

As @wendigo said, as soon as you get past the wild dungeon reverb (which you'll eventually find endearing), this one really hits.

https://vexitum.bandcamp.com/album/evocation-of-cosmic-decay

#metal #DeathMetal #Italy #ItalianMetal #Vexitum #2026Records #2026Albums #OSDM @HailsandAles @wendigo @swampgas @rtw @guffo @nnenov @flockofnazguls @Kitty @c0m4 @umrk @pephorror

Michael Dorn has appeared on screen in more episodes of Star Trek than anyone else.1 His character, the mighty Klingon warrior, Captain2 Worf is known to greatly enjoy gagh, a traditional Klingon delicacy comprised of live, wriggling serpent worms. It’s fucking gross. It’s also the first thing I thought of when I saw the album art for Gorrch’s sophomore effort, Stillamentum. Founded in 2010 and hailing from Cavaso del Tomba in northeastern Italy, Gorrch is the unsettling black metal project of fraternal duo, Chrimsicrin and Droich. Now, a decade after 2015 debut Nera estasi, Gorrch plumbs the depths of the abyss, seeking to give voice to the primal fear and disgust of being covered in roiling, writhing masses of maggots.

Standard black metal isn’t dark enough for Gorrch. Stillamentum is about horror and dread. Opener “Nimbus” wastes no time burying you alive in a cramped wooden box. Guitars like clamoring bells ring with sanity-threatening dissonance while pummeling blast beats quickly deplete your limited oxygen. Droich viciously saws at palm-muted strings like the erratic, terrifying sprints of cockroaches exploring what’s in the box (you). A lull at the midpoint ushers in a spiraling riff, rising like your gorge in mortal terror. Heretical Gregorian chanting reveals your captors as zealots, and all hope of seeing the sun again dies. Deranged prayers ripped from Chrimsicrin’s throat (“Vorago,” “Angor”), metallic tones like snapping wires (“Vorago,” “Larvæ”), and ritualistic percussion (“Phlegma”) keep you locked in this waking nightmare. The blasphemous love child of Gaerea and Imperial Triumphant, Stillamentum is cacophonous, claustrophobic, and rapturously disturbed.

Stillamentum by Gorrch

Developing and fostering atmosphere through repetition is a common trope in black metal. Stillamentum is no exception, but Gorrch’s approach makes the assessment thereof a bit of a challenge. Each track begins with strong, fast riffs, either searing or psychotic, drawing me in and demanding my attention. Somewhere in the middle third, however, long passages featuring markedly less instrumental variation take over and guide the song to its conclusion. The result is two or three minutes of relatively repetitive instrumentals per track. This was not an issue while running errands or gaming or otherwise spinning Stillamentum in the background—and was in fact a boon—as I enjoyed basking in the consistent atmosphere, but on focused listens, these stretched sections can stall the furious momentum gained earlier in each song.

This same critique can be found mirrored in the structure of Stillamentum as a whole. The front half—“Nimbus,” “Vorago,” and “Larvæ”—as well as closer “Phlegma,” evoke a singular and impressive sense of fear. “Cryptæ” and “Angor,” however, feel less inspired, giving the album’s quality a parabolic shape. They’re not bad songs by any means; there are parts of each I particularly enjoyed. I loved the tempo shift at the midpoint of “Angor” and the clanging, descending riffs in “Cryptæ,” and the synergy between the ritual chanting and Chrimsicrin’s drum work on both tracks is very effective. Even so, they seem closer to boilerplate black metal than the rest of Stillamentum, their teeth notably blunter in comparison. As on the level of individual tracks, this structure works well in the background, but under scrutiny, it highlights opportunities for Gorrch to improve their pacing and direction.

Gorrch shines brightest at their darkest and most unsafe. On Stillamentum, theirs is an abyssal darkness, drenched in formicative3 horror and clothed in perverse piety. At their most oppressive, Gorrch is exactly my kind of black metal: suffocating, malicious, dissonant, and maybe a little blasphemous. Were I grading based on highlights alone, Stillamentum would score much higher. Alas, those peaks are saddled with overlong atmospheric passages, a slight overuse of chanting vocals, and mildly inconsistent quality. If Gorrch can distill their strengths from Stillamentum and hone them to delve even deeper into the void, they’ll unearth something truly unspeakable.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Avantgarde Music
Websites: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026

Brutal cold envelops the building as my minions scrape through ice and filthy slush to find even the smallest shard of metallic glimmer. With extensive budget cuts demanded by my exorbitant bonus schedule—as is my right as CEO of this filtration service—there was no room to purchase adequate gear and equipment for these harsher weathers. However, I did take up crocheting recently so each of my “employees” received a nice soft hat.

Hopefully, that will be enough to tide them over until the inclement weather passes and we return to normal temps. Until then, they have these rare finds to keep them warm, and so do you! REJOICE!

Kenstrosity’s Knightly Nightmare

AngelMaker // This Used to Be Heaven [November 20th, 2025 – Self Released]

I’ve been a fan of AngelMaker’s since their 2015 debut Dissentient. The grossly underrated and underappreciated Vancouver septet are a highly specialized deathcore infantry, with their lineup expanding steadily over their career in concert with their ever-increasing songwriting sophistication. Unlike the brutish and belligerent debut and follow-up AngelMaker, 2022’s Sanctum and new outing This Used to Be Heaven indulge in rich layering, near-neoclassical melodies, and dramatic atmosphere to complement AngelMaker’s trademark sense of swaggering groove. With early entries “Rich in Anguish” and “Haunter” establishing the strength of both sides of their sound, it always surprises me how AngelMaker successfully twist and gnarl their sound into shapes—whether it be hardcore, blackened, or melodic—I wasn’t anticipating (“Silken Hands,” “Relinquished,” “Nothing Left”). A rock-solid back half launched by the epic “The Omen” two-part suite brings these deviations from the expected into unity with the deathcore foundation I know AngelMaker so well for (“Malevolence Reigns,” “Altare Mortis”), and in doing so secure their status as one of the most reliably creative deathcore acts in the scene. Nothing here is going to change the minds of the fiercer deathcore detractors, but if your heart is open even just a crack, there’s a good chance This Used to Be Heaven will force themselves into it, if not entirely rip the whole thing asunder. My advice is simply to let it.

This Used To Be Heaven by AngelMaker

ClarkKent’s Sonic Symphonics

Brainblast // Colossus Suprema [November 11th, 2025 – Vmbrella]

A debut album five years in the making from a band formed in 2015, Colossus Suprema is the brainchild of Bogotá, Colombia’s Edd Jiménez. Jiménez turned his passion for and training in classical composition towards his symphonic progressive act, Brainblast. With Bach as an inspiration, Brainblast’s brand of technical death metal has the grandeur of Fleshgod Apocalypse, the speed of Archspire, and the virtuosity of concert musicians. Jiménez’s classical training shows — the compositions have an orchestral feel, only played at insane energy levels. The speed, the depth, and the breadth of the instrumentation are sure to leave you breathless. Nicholas Le Fou Wells (First Fragment) lays down relentless kitwork with jaw-dropping velocity, while Eetu Hernesmaa provides technical fretwork that’ll similarly leave you awestruck. He delivers sublime riffs on “Relentless Rise” and a surprising melodic lead that steals the show on “Unchain Your Soul.” Perhaps most prominent is the virtuoso play of the bass from Rich Gray (Annihilator) and Dominic Forest Lapointe (First Fragment) that is omnipresent and funky on each and every song. To top it all off is the piano (perhaps from Jiménez), giving the music some gravitas with the technical, concert-style playing. This record is just plain bonkers and tons of fun. Given this is the debut from a young musician, the idea that Brainblast has room to grow is plenty exciting.

COLOSSUS SUPREMA by BRAINBLAST

Gods of Gaia // Escape the Wonderland [November 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

If you’ve been eagerly awaiting the next SepticFlesh release, Germany’s Gods of Gaia have got you covered. Founded in 2023 by Kevin Sierra Eifert, Gods of Gaia is made up of an anonymous collective from around the world, contributing to a dark, heavy, and aggressive form of symphonic metal. Their sophomore album, Escape the Wonderland, features a collection of death metal songs with plenty of orchestral arrangements that add a dramatic flair. Along with crushing riffs and thunderous blast beats, you’ll hear choral chants (“Escape the Wonderland,” “Burn for Me”), bits of piano (“What It Takes”), and plenty of cinematic symphonics. SepticFlesh is the obvious influence, but the grandiosity of Fleshgod Apocalypse flares up on cuts like the dramatic “Rise Up.” The front half is largely aggressive, with “What It Takes” taking the energy to thrash levels. The back half dials down the energy, even creeping to near doom on “Krieg in Mir,” but never pulls back on the heaviness. Cool as the symphonic elements are, the riffs, blast beats, and brutal vocal delivery are just as impressive. Make no mistake, this is melodic death metal above all else, with symphonic seasonings that elevate it a notch. Just the opposite of what the record title suggests, this is one wonderland you won’t want to escape.

Escape the Wonderland by Gods of Gaia

Grin Reaper’s Frozen Feast

Hounds of Bayanay // КЭМ [November 15, 2025 – Self Released]

Two-and-a-half years after dropping debut Legends of the North, Hounds of Bayanay returns with КЭМ to sate your eternal lust for folk metal.1 Blending heavy metal with folk instrumentation, specifically kyrympa2 and khomus,3 as well as throat singing, Hounds of Bayanay might sound like a Tengger Cavalry or The Hu knockoff, but you’ll do yourself a disservice by writing them off. Boldly enunciated, clarion cleans belt out in confident proclamations while grittier refrains and overtones resonate beneath, proffering assorted and engaging vocal stylings. Rather than dwelling overlong in strings and tribal chanting, the deft fusion of folk instruments with traditional metal defines Hounds’ sound and feels cohesively integrated on КЭМ, providing an intimate yet heavy backdrop to a hook-laden and alluringly replayable thirty-nine minutes. In addition to the eclectic folk influence, there’s a satisfying variety of songwriting from track to track, with “Ardaq,” “Cɯsqa:n,” and “Dɔʃɔrum” exemplifying the enticing synthesis of styles. More than anything else, Hounds of Bayanay embodies heart and fun, warming my chilly days with a well-executed platter of Eastern-influenced folk metal. Don’t skip this one, or the decision could hound you.

KEM by Hounds Of Bayanay

Blood Red Throne // Siltskin [December 05, 2025 – Soulseller Records]

I’m shoving up against the deadline to wedge this one in, but Blood Red Throne’s latest deserves a mention, and bulldozing is just the sort of thing you should do while listening to BRT’s brand of bludgeoning, pit-stomping romp. Back in December, the venerable Norwegian death metal act dropped twelfth album Siltskin, maintaining their prolific and consistent release schedule. In addition to their dependable output, BRT stays the course with pummeling, brutish pomp. In his coverage of Nonagon and Imperial Congregation, Doc Grier drums up comparisons to Old Man’s Child, Panzerchrist, and Hypocrisy, and while I’m not inclined to disagree on those points, I’ll add that Siltskin also harkens to Kill-era Cannibal Corpse in its slick coalition of mid-paced slammers, warp-speed blitzes, and fat ‘n’ frolicking bass. Add to that the sly, sticky melody from the likes of Sentenced’s North from Here (“Vestigial Remnants”), and you’ve got a recipe for a righteous forty-five-minute smash-a-thon. Blood Red Throne’s last few records have been among their best, which is an incredible feat for a band this far into their career. While Siltskin doesn’t surpass BRT’s high-water mark, it keeps up, and if you’re hungry for an aural beatdown, then Blood Red Throne would like to throw their crown into the ring for consideration.

Siltskin by Blood Red Throne

Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu // Immortality [December 17, 2025 – Bang the Head Records]

I am woefully late to the charms of Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu, a Japanese death metal outfit prominently featuring slap ‘n’ pop bass. Had it not been for our trusty Flippered Friend, I might have continued this grievous injustice of ignorance, but thankfully, this is not the timeline to which I’m doomed. Immortality is Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu’s seventh album, and those who enjoy the band’s previous work should remain satisfied. For new acolytes, Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu grasps the rabid intensity of Vader and Krisiun and imbues it with a funky edge. Meaty bass rumbles and sprightly slapped accents, provided by bassist/vocalist Haruhisa Takahata, merge with Kouki Akita’s kit obliteration to establish a thunderous, unrelenting rhythm section. Atop the lower end’s heft, Keiichi Enjouji shreds and squeals with thrashy vigor and a keen understanding of melody. First proper track “Anima Immortalis” even includes gang intonations that work so well, I wish they were more prevalent across the album. The sum total of Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu’s atmosphere is one of plucky exuberance that strikes with the force of a roundhouse kick to the dome. Had I discovered it sooner, Immortality would have qualified for a 2025 year-end honorable mention, as I haven’t been able to stop spinning it or the band’s prior releases.4 Though I’m still in the honeymoon phase, I expect this platter to live on in my listening, and recommend you not miss this GTK killer like I almost did.

Thus Spoke’s Random Revelations

The Algorithm // Recursive Infinity [November 21st, 2025 – Self Released]

I’ve been a fan of The Algorithm since the early days, back when their electronica-djent was almost twee in its experimental joy, spliced with light-hearted samples. Over the years, Rémi Gallego has tuned his flair for mesmeric, playful compositions to develop a richer, more streamlined sound. Recursive Infinity continues the recent upward trend Data Renaissance began. With riffs and rhythms the slickest since Brute Force, and melodies the brightest and most colourful since equally-prettily adorned Polymorphic Code, it’s a cyberpunk tour-de-force. The wildness is trained, chunky heaviness grounding magnetic melodies (“Race Condition,” “Mutex,” “By Design”), dense chugging transitioning seamlessly into techno (“Advanced Iteration Technique,” “Hollowing,” “Graceful Degradation), and adding bite to bubbly, candy-coloured soundscapes (“Rainbow Table,”). The skittering of breakbeats tempers synthwave (“Endless Iteration), and bright pulses wrap cascading electro-core (“Race Condition,” “Mutex”) and orchestral melodrama (“Recursive Infinity”). It’s often strongly reminiscent of some point in The Algorithm’s history, but everything is upgraded from charming to entrancing. This provides a new way to interpret Recursive Infinity: not just a reference to an endless loop in general, but to Boucle Infinie (Infinite Loop)—Remi’s other musical project—and by extension, The Algorithm themselves. Yet he is still experimenting, including vocoder vocals (“Endless Iteration,” “By Design”) for a surprisingly successful dark-Daft Punk vibe in slower, moodier moments. With nostalgic throwbacks transformed so beautifully, and the continued evolution, there’s simply no way I can ignore The Algorithm now. And neither should you.

Recursive Infinity by The Algorithm

Owlswald’s Holiday Scraps

Sun of the Suns // Entanglement [December 12th, 2025 – Scarlet Records]

Bands and labels take heed—We reserve December for two things: Listurnalia and celebrating another trip around the sun. It is not for releasing new music. Yet this blunder persists, ensuring we inevitably miss gems like Sun of the Suns’ sophomore effort, Entanglement.5 The record dropped just as the world was tuning out for the year, and it deserves much better. Building on the foundation of their 2021 debut, TIIT, the Italian trio has significantly beefed up their progressive death formula. Mixing tech-death articulation with deathcore brutality, Entanglement ensures fans of Fallujah will feel right at home with its effervescent clean melodies and crystalline textures. Francesca Paoli (Fleshgod Apocalypse) returns to provide another masterclass behind the kit with rapid-fire double-bass, blasts, and tom fills, while guitarists Marco Righetti and Ludovico Cioffi deliver cosmic shredding and radiant solos that are both technical and deliberate. While the early tracks lean into Fallujahian songcraft and Tesseract-style arpeggios, the album shines brightest late when the group largely sheds its stylistic orbit. “Please, Blackout My Eyes” pivots toward a majestic Aeternam vibe with ethereal tech-death incisiveness, while “One With the Sun” and “The Void Where Sound Ends Its Path” hit like a sledgehammer with Xenobiotic’s deathcore grooves. Though Luca Dave Scarlatti’s vocals lack differentiation, the sheer quality of the compositions carries the weight, proving Sun of the Suns are much more than mere clones.

Entanglement by Sun Of The Suns

I swear I’ve seen that saguaro before, in Pima County, standing just off the side of the road, marked among the millions crowding the bajadas. At that size, the sun rising over the Ajos has cast its strange shadow westward tens of thousands of times, yet it’s still young; a few generations removed from a pre-invasion Sonoran desert that thrived before the mountains had Spanish names, before the concept of the gringo, before the thousands of hung-over ones flattened every snake living within half a mile of Highway 85 driving back from “Rocky Point.” Maybe its great-great-grandmother’s seeds were carried by a coyote, lips stained sticky sanguine, slinking under the monsoon clouds when the only people around were O’Odham, themselves too distracted by the bounty to notice her stealing one more fruit from their baskets. Four generations later, a gray fox takes a pit stop under a creosote, setting a lucky propagule up for seventy years of extension, inch by inch, towards the noon summer sun, until a freak event smears its meristem into a radiate new form, ending this lineage forever.

Just after that point, someone takes its picture, and a couple of Italian guys slap it on a black metal album. A black metal album bent on re-orienting the genre away from a frostbitten North and towards an imaginary sun-bleached South, the saguaro being perhaps the most resilient (and, tellingly, clichéd) symbol thereof. Ambitions often crumble against this landscape; the schemes of miners fall through, the hopeful homesteads dry into rubble, at the bodies of desperate migrants collapse in the canyons. Beauty and hostility, available in such great measure here, produce the romance of the desert, the basis for Radici. Diespnea fail to capture either.

Radici by Diespnea

Diespnea practice oddball black metal in the Dødheimsgard idiom, attempting to reinvigorate a staid sound with odd and abrupt inclusions. At the end of “Radici,” they iron a bass groove flat onto gridded electronic beats, then gradually build vocals, drums, and guitars back into the matrix in what would be the record’s most memorable section if it didn’t feel almost identical to the ending of “Vultures.” When the tactic comes around yet again in “Mescalynia,” the effect is more of annoyance than interest. When the duo isn’t dabbling in dull electronica, they’re often whooping and cackling in what seems to be an awful pastiche of pre-Columbian musical traditions.

But the core failure of Radici isn’t in its lazy discursions but the soporific black metal that they depart from. Say what you will about 666 International, there’s no denying the intensity on display. Radici’s official kvlt tab book leads are usually played at three-quarters speed, and the spaces between them sag even more in tempo. Creative songwriting on cuts like “Radici” and “Mescalynia” is hard to appreciate when dragged out for six minutes, though tediously predictable guitar work, and the dull production and brickwalled master don’t do the record any favors. It’s a bit too on-the-nose for a band called Diespnea to sound this asthmatic.

Diespnea have the creativity to embark on something adventurous, but lack the curiosity to decide on a destination, instead floating around their “imaginary South” totally insulated from the confrontation with the real. It’s a painful missed opportunity; the places and traditions and feelings that the duo smudge at are truly profound, and Diespnea’s lazy Tintin “South” is at best an obfuscation and at worst a downright parody of the beauty that desert landscapes, their life, and their peoples hold.

The key to survival in the desert is specificity. In the Sonoran desert, oaks cling only to shady canyon bottoms; senitas populate only the hottest, sandiest washes; water scorpions flourish in ephemeral pools the size of bathtubs, and whole biotas erupt and disappear with the summer monsoons. The desert’s beauty comes from millions of years of coevolution, from novelty and extinction and cycles of glaciation that have stripped away that which does not belong again and again until everything that remains has its place and is fighting to keep it. Radici’s vagaries have nothing in common with places like this, and what Diespnea offer beyond those vagaries is just as unconvincing. And so, Radici comes nearly dead on arrival.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Code 666 Records
Websites: facebook.com/diespnea | diespnea.com | diespnea.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

Literal metals are always cooler when they come from space. A blade forged from meteoric iron is effectively the same as one made from iron you can find on Earth, but don’t tell me you wouldn’t want the space knife way more. Likewise, metal music always sounds cooler when it feels like it’s from another world. Enter ZU, the Italian jazz metal trio comprised of guitarist/bassist Massimo Pupillo, saxophonist/keyboardist Luca Mai, and drummer Paolo Mangardi. ZU forged their latest record, Ferrum Sidereum, Latin for “iron of (or from) the stars,” to sonically approach something otherworldly, drawing from the historical spiritual significance of meteoric iron as inspiration for their music. And forge ZU did, because Ferrum Sidereum is an 80-minute double album of progressive, industrial, punk-infused, and fully instrumental jazz metal. But is Ferrum Sidereum a gift from the stars, or should you look for your metal closer to home?

Ferrum Sidereum is a record that revels in texture and rhythm more so than melody. Like ObZen-era Meshuggah, ZU play melodically bare but rhythmically exquisite riffs, with their prog and metal elements manifesting into bouncy, syncopated djent jabs prominent on tracks like “Golgotha” and “Kether.” Guitars are low (“Ferrum Sidereum”), bass is plucked with abandon (“Charagma”), and drums roll with jazz-practiced precision and metal aggression (“La Donna Vestita Di Sole”). Industrial elements and saxophone conspire to either inject a sense of progression to simple riffs (“Hymn of the Pearl”) or, more often than not, tear your ears a new one with punkish, dissonant whines and whistles (“Fuoco Saturnio”). ZU bounce between these loud, crunched moments with Tool-like passages of meditative, methodical calm and repetition with a hodgepodge of percussive additions to fill out space (“Pleroma”). You likely won’t be able to hum anything off Ferrum Sidereum by the end, but it’s undeniable that ZU are very particular about sounding a very particular way.

Ferrum Sidereum by ZU

ZU have the chops to carry the load of a double album, but Ferrum Sidereum unfortunately doesn’t have the substance to fill one. To achieve a sense of spiritual ritualism, ZU obviously had to rely on repetition within songs, but it quickly just gets excessive and bland. Differences between songs—like “AI Hive Mind” and its distinct, mathcore level of scronk in its guitar tone and saxophone or “Golgotha” and its use of ghostly choir to build unnerving atmospheres—get lost in the flood of crushed djenting that better defines Ferrum Sidereum. ZU stick to such a strict palette that following along to the album as a whole becomes tedious, and the lack of melodic leads or even just a singer make Ferrum Sidereum easy to drift away from mentally. Eighty minutes and no hook is a big ask for any listener. Ferrum Sidereum’s uniform construction does lend it a sense of unity, and ZU’s expert musicianship and occasional atmospheres do make the record a good background listen, but for the purpose of intentional, critical listening, it leaves much to be desired.

This is deeply disappointing to me, because Ferrum Sidereum can at times be simply transcendent. When it comes to shaping otherworldly and religious atmospheres, when ZU get it right, they get it right. “La Donna Vestita Di Sole” feels like a festival from another planet with its twisty sax riff, while the conclusion to the closing title track uses the dichotomy of furious palm-muted riffing and complete silence to make an ending both meditative and succinct. The one-two punch of “The Celestial Bull and the White Lady” and “Hymn of the Pearl” sees ZU at their most sublime, awash with delayed clean guitars and tribal drumming derived from the same sacred geometry as Lateralus, both stirring and refreshing to the mind and soul. There’s great material on Ferrum Sidereum, songs so good I can see clearly the greatness that ZU see in it, but material buried under about as much runtime of bloat as well.

I know there’s a world where Ferrum Sidereum clicks with me, but here and now it doesn’t. ZU are wildly talented musicians, and I know there are fans of instrumental metal who will gobble this up, but for me too much of what makes Ferrum Sidereum enthralling (its rich atmosphere and contemplative nature) is sidelined by what makes it boring (djent). “Hymn of the Pearl” may make a reappearance in December for SotY contention, but I think I’ve gotten enough of ZU’s latest as a whole. But I’ll keep an eye out for falling rocks, regardless.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: House of Mythology
Websites: zuhom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/vajrazu | zuism.net
Releases Worldwide: January 9th, 2026