#jun25 — Public Fediverse posts

Merry Mastchris, everyone!
#mastchris #Jun25 #25Jun

Stuck in the Filter: June 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

Sweat pours out of our pores. Heat blisters metal and scorches dirt. Power bills rise relentlessly, without mercy. These are the signs of summer in the brutal ductwork that is our hallowed Filter. But we continue onward in search of those metallic scraps that provide such unbridled joy to our masses. The only variable: who of my trusted team will survive this season, and who will perish in the service of this sacred duty?

We won’t know the answer until this article gets published. And when it is, the statistics will be fabricated and obfuscated accordingly. So ignore the death toll and instead peep the haul!

Kenstrosity’s Meanest Meanies

Shadow of Intent // Imperium Delirium [June 12th, 2025 – Self-Release]

For over a decade, Connecticut/Rhode Island melodic deathcore independents Shadow of Intent challenged the standards of the genre by offering album after album of ripping tracks filled with drama, clever songwriting, and demolishing vocal talent. In their catalog, Elegy was the one record of theirs that didn’t stick with me. However, Imperium Delirium rapidly righted the ship with 55 minutes of opulent, evil, and crushing melodic destruction. Raging through its first half without a single misstep, Imperium Delirium is a focused effort chock full of devastating heft, buttery smooth songwriting, and a favorable riffs-to-breakdowns ratio. The back half focuses on drama and orchestration just a touch more, but songs like “Feeding the Meatgrinder,” “Vehement Draconian Vengeance,” and “No Matter the Cost” still bring the violence required to annihilate entire planets. Championing this unending assault of killer tunes, Ben Duerr’s vocal performance is intimidating to say the least, easily reinforcing his rightful place as one of the very best extreme vocalists in the scene today. Of course, the record is still too long by about 10 minutes, and a fair amount of that bloat comes from the slightly overblown self-titled closer. Additionally, while I appreciate the reverent nod to the instrumental talent on “Apocalypse Canvas,” I don’t believe it adds enough to the story of this record. Nonetheless, Imperium Delirium might be one of my favorite Shadows of Intent, and I look forward to where it leads me next.

ClarkKent’s Literary Listen

Nightbearer // Defiance [June 13, 2025 – Testimony Records]

Anyone looking for a mashup of Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy and Gothenburg melodeath, look no further than the latest album from Germany’s Nightbearer. Defiance marks album number three in the band’s repertoire, and a continuation of their worship of fantasy epics.1 Right off the bat, the catchy harmonic guitar lead of “His Dark Materials” summons Dark Tranquillity and At the Gates. The guitar work by Dominik Hellmuth and Tristan Schubert is fantastic throughout–their creative melodies bring to mind lively outfits like Brymir. Michael Torka’s beastly growls and Manuel Lüke’s thunderous drumming add some brutality and weight to the harmonious riffs. A few songs even go full brutal death metal (“One Church Over All”, “Dying Knows No Bounds”). Perhaps the standout track comes from the 9-minute epic, “Ascension.” It starts with an eerie synth intro before breaking out into some of the best riffs on Defiance. Then, just as things settle down, the song builds back up and explodes into something straight from Blackwater Park-era Opeth. Overall, this is an impressive collection of songs that’s sure to scratch that HM-2 itch.

Tyme’s Juxtaposed Jotting

Lipoma // No Cure for the Sick [June 13th, 2025 – Gurgling Gore]

Melodic gore-grind. Yeah, it’s a thing. And California-based Lipoma’s new album, No Cure for the Sick, proves it’s a pretty fucking cool thing at that—the brainchild of one Max Pierce (aka Dr. Lipoma).2 Since going live in 2021, Lipoma has been insanely active, releasing a slew of splits and EPs along with two full-length albums: 2022’s Horrors of Pathology and 2023’s Odes to Suffering. And while Lipoma has steadily worked to make comparisons with fellow purveyors like Carcass, Lymphatic Phlegm, and Pharmacist less relevant, No Cure for the Sick moves things to a different ballpark, one full of Gothenburgian melodicism (“Cult of the Firehealers,” “Glory to the Blade”), post-metallic pop-punk optimism (“Cardiac Scars Forever,” “Psalms of Psoriasis”), indecipherable gurgles, and organ, which is what sets Lipoma’s No Cure for the Sick apart not only from previous efforts, but the pack in general. From the circus-like atmosphere shrouding opener “The Sea Surgeon,” Pierce’s use of organ permeates much of No Cure for the Sick’s forty minutes, buoying the melodic heaviness and excellent solo work with jig-like danceability (“Remedies of Pagan Medicine,” “Last Anatomy of Johan Ziegler,” “No Cure for the Sick”). Pierce’s melodically charged instrumentation, when juxtaposed against his gore-ground gurglings—a combo that works in a way it has no right to—sees Lipoma doing something I find wholly unique, a rarity in today’s digital age. I have had a ton of fun with No Cure for the Sick, and if you’ve not checked it out yet, do so post haste.

Iceberg’s Frosty Forget-Me-Nots

Puppe Magnetik // Laudans Deum [June 6th, 2025 – The Circle Music]

Laudans Deum is not for the faint of heart, if that album cover didn’t quite convince you. The debut compilation of Puppe Magnetik, the record dives deep into the recesses of the human psyche. Aina Virtanen weaponizes industrial metal, ambient, and drone, wrapped up in the stylings of the Weimar Republic. An accomplished classically-trained musician, Virtanen uses her clean vocals sparingly (“Who Will Sing This Sorrow,” “Labyrinth”) but to great effect, reminiscent of Diablo Swing Orchestra. But the accessibility stops there; Laudans Deum’s thirteen tracks are comprised of ambient meditations (“Moritat”), ear-splitting electronic barrages (“Suspendium, Rosarium et Crucifixu”), and mood music fit for a throwback horror movie (“The Pregnant Nun,” “Patient AV”). But within the graveyard are scattered moments of respite; the gorgeously rendered classical guitar of “Timeless Serenade” and the haunting vocals of “Laments From The Desert.” While the album is unforgivingly through-composed, making for an exceptionally difficult first listen, there’s something darkly endearing about it. I’m reminded of Sergei Prokofiev, the Russian composer whose music was often described as both grotesque and starkly beautiful. Puppe Magnetik have produced a challenging record, but it’s worth a listen for those who enjoy avant-garde music and the stranger, more terrifying corners of the aural arts.

All Men Unto Me // Requiem [June 27th, 2025 – The Larvarium]

A little more metal, but a lot more challenging, All Men Unto Me’s Requiem brings to bear the full weight of spiritual suffering. Requiem is a direct interpretation of the Latin Mass for the Dead, it’s eight tracks playing all the hits. Fuzzed out, half-time doom takes a supporting role in a record that heavily features pipe organ, acoustic guitar, and string leads. Rylan Greaves takes a unique approach here, subverting the natural tension and release of the rite by injecting clanging noise into passages normally reverent. Their vocal performance is the unrepentant star of the show, at times crystalline (“Introit”) at others sobbing (“Kyrie”) straining (“Agnus Dei”) and howling (“Sequentia”). The album takes its time to sink its claws into you, with long track lengths and extended droning chords requiring patience. But pay close attention to Greaves’ lyrics and you can’t help but be pulled into the raw, emotional drama of Requiem. The rising, ethereal sunset of “In Paradisum,” the falsetto whisper speaking “God knows what I’d be without you” against an impossibly high, ever so slightly off-key bell-tone. One’s left wondering the true meaning of that line as the track ends, and the dead remain silent. A powerful statement indeed.

Killjoy’s Fabulous Find

Fabula Rasa // Tome II: The Beyond [June 13th, 2025 – Self-Release]

The words “fabulous” and “fable” are interconnected, both derived from the Latin word “fabulosus.” And since folk music and power metal draw heavily from fables and myths, the portmanteau Fabula Rasa is a fitting name for a group that blends both genres. Following the lead of forebears Elvenking and early Mägo de Oz, this spirited crew from Düsseldorf, Germany, infuses what would otherwise be standard—but good!—heavy/power metal with lots of violin. The violin and guitar trade off playing the lead melodies, though the former tends to have greater emphasis. But fret not, shred-heads, for the guitar solos are also exemplary in the more power metal-leaning songs, like “Dragon Rising” and “Vengeance Is Mine.” The violin often carves its own folksy space, the cheery, zippy fiddling akin to Dalriada (“At Full Moon,” “Anthem of the North”). Most songs are energetic, but “Burning Innocence” is a pleasant surprise midway through the record, with hand drums and the other band members’ vocal contributions creating an intimate group setting. Don’t miss this charismatic performance from these fabulous musicians.

Maddog’s Sludgy Selection

Dimscûa // Dust Eater [June 3rd, 2025 – Self-Release]

While sludge is a dime a dozen, few bands scratch the same itch as Amenra’s best work. The UK’s Dimscûa aims to correct this oversight. Dust Eater opens with “Elder Bairn,” whose rhythmic riffs evoke the meditative power of LLNN. After this appetizer, the album’s interplay between brawn and heart rivals Amenra. While Dimscûa’s muscular riffs drive the album forward (“Existence/Futility”), Dust Eater stands out through its hypnotic melodies. The heartache in these melodies is palpable, magnified by tortured vocals that recall Julie Christmas. Because of this ebb and flow, the album never feels bloated despite its eight-minute average track length. For instance, “Existence/Futility” abandons and then suddenly resurrects its driving main riff, adding unexpected variety and lodging into my memory. Dust Eater’s climaxes sometimes fall short, like the fizzle-out ending of “The Dusteater.” But despite its imperfections, Dimscûa’s debut is a powerful outing in a neglected style.3

Dear Hollaback’s Ain’t No B-A-N-A-N-A-S

Various Artists // KPop Demon Hunters [Original Motion Picture Soundtrack] [June 20th, 2025 – Republic Records]4

Okay, look. Look. K-Pop is not metal, I get that. But the gang over at Sony concocted what just recently earned the title of Netflix’s most watched movie of all time, and holy shit, what a soundtrack.. I’d like to use the classic “my daughter made me do it” schtick but she only likes “Takedown.”5 KPop Demon Hunters creates insanely catchy pop music that’s also focused and intentional, a commentary on the rigid and flagellant nature of K-Pop alongside feel-good messages of self-acceptance and healing (“Golden,” “What It Sounds Like”). The focal girl group HUNTR/X does most of the heavy lifting, also tossing in enough pop culture-inclined battle hymns to make the republic jealous (“How It’s Done,” “Takedown”). Their on-screen rivals Saja Boys offer entendre-layered sugary pop (the infamous “Soda Pop”) and sinister Gregorian-influenced choruses (“Your Idol”). Beyond the novelty is intentionality: clever chord progressions that feel continually transcendent rather than stagnantly by-the-numbers (“What It Sounds Like”), diminuendos of authenticity among bombasts of a glossy sheen (“Golden”), touches of dissonance paired with unsettling slant rhymes (“Your Idol”), and rhythmic complexity building to ethereal climaxes of soaring belts (“Free”). While yes, I’m telling you to give it a spin, I am also giving excuses for why my review count dropped to critical this summer. Fuck off, I’m gonna be, gonna be golden.

#2025 #AllMenUntoMe #Ambient #AmericanMetal #AtTheGates #AvantGarde #Brymir #Carcass #Dalriada #DarkTranquility #Deathcore #Defiance #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Dimscûa #Drone #DustEater #Elvenking #FabulaRasa #FinnishMetal #FolkMetal #GermanMetal #GurglingGore #HeavyMetal #HUNTRX #ImperiumDelirium #IndustrialMetal #Jun25 #KPop #KPopDemonHunters #LaudansDeum #Lipoma #LymphaticPhlegm #MägoDeOz #MelodicDeathMetal #MelodicDeathcore #Nightbearer #NoCureForTheSick #Opeth #Pharmacist #PowerMetal #PuppeMagnetik #RepublicRecords #Requiem #Review #Reviews #SajaBoys #SelfRelease #SelfReleased #ShadowOfIntent #StuckInTheFilter #TestimonyRecords #TheCircleMusic #TheLarvarium #TomeIITheBeyond #UKMetal #VariousArtists

Stuck in the Filter: June 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

Sweat pours out of our pores. Heat blisters metal and scorches dirt. Power bills rise relentlessly, without mercy. These are the signs of summer in the brutal ductwork that is our hallowed Filter. But we continue onward in search of those metallic scraps that provide such unbridled joy to our masses. The only variable: who of my trusted team will survive this season, and who will perish in the service of this sacred duty?

We won’t know the answer until this article gets published. And when it is, the statistics will be fabricated and obfuscated accordingly. So ignore the death toll and instead peep the haul!

Kenstrosity’s Meanest Meanies

Shadow of Intent // Imperium Delirium [June 12th, 2025 – Self-Release]

For over a decade, Connecticut/Rhode Island melodic deathcore independents Shadow of Intent challenged the standards of the genre by offering album after album of ripping tracks filled with drama, clever songwriting, and demolishing vocal talent. In their catalog, Elegy was the one record of theirs that didn’t stick with me. However, Imperium Delirium rapidly righted the ship with 55 minutes of opulent, evil, and crushing melodic destruction. Raging through its first half without a single misstep, Imperium Delirium is a focused effort chock full of devastating heft, buttery smooth songwriting, and a favorable riffs-to-breakdowns ratio. The back half focuses on drama and orchestration just a touch more, but songs like “Feeding the Meatgrinder,” “Vehement Draconian Vengeance,” and “No Matter the Cost” still bring the violence required to annihilate entire planets. Championing this unending assault of killer tunes, Ben Duerr’s vocal performance is intimidating to say the least, easily reinforcing his rightful place as one of the very best extreme vocalists in the scene today. Of course, the record is still too long by about 10 minutes, and a fair amount of that bloat comes from the slightly overblown self-titled closer. Additionally, while I appreciate the reverent nod to the instrumental talent on “Apocalypse Canvas,” I don’t believe it adds enough to the story of this record. Nonetheless, Imperium Delirium might be one of my favorite Shadows of Intent, and I look forward to where it leads me next.

ClarkKent’s Literary Listen

Nightbearer // Defiance [June 13, 2025 – Testimony Records]

Anyone looking for a mashup of Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy and Gothenburg melodeath, look no further than the latest album from Germany’s Nightbearer. Defiance marks album number three in the band’s repertoire, and a continuation of their worship of fantasy epics.1 Right off the bat, the catchy harmonic guitar lead of “His Dark Materials” summons Dark Tranquillity and At the Gates. The guitar work by Dominik Hellmuth and Tristan Schubert is fantastic throughout–their creative melodies bring to mind lively outfits like Brymir. Michael Torka’s beastly growls and Manuel Lüke’s thunderous drumming add some brutality and weight to the harmonious riffs. A few songs even go full brutal death metal (“One Church Over All”, “Dying Knows No Bounds”). Perhaps the standout track comes from the 9-minute epic, “Ascension.” It starts with an eerie synth intro before breaking out into some of the best riffs on Defiance. Then, just as things settle down, the song builds back up and explodes into something straight from Blackwater Park-era Opeth. Overall, this is an impressive collection of songs that’s sure to scratch that HM-2 itch.

Tyme’s Juxtaposed Jotting

Lipoma // No Cure for the Sick [June 13th, 2025 – Gurgling Gore]

Melodic gore-grind. Yeah, it’s a thing. And California-based Lipoma’s new album, No Cure for the Sick, proves it’s a pretty fucking cool thing at that—the brainchild of one Max Pierce (aka Dr. Lipoma).2 Since going live in 2021, Lipoma has been insanely active, releasing a slew of splits and EPs along with two full-length albums: 2022’s Horrors of Pathology and 2023’s Odes to Suffering. And while Lipoma has steadily worked to make comparisons with fellow purveyors like Carcass, Lymphatic Phlegm, and Pharmacist less relevant, No Cure for the Sick moves things to a different ballpark, one full of Gothenburgian melodicism (“Cult of the Firehealers,” “Glory to the Blade”), post-metallic pop-punk optimism (“Cardiac Scars Forever,” “Psalms of Psoriasis”), indecipherable gurgles, and organ, which is what sets Lipoma’s No Cure for the Sick apart not only from previous efforts, but the pack in general. From the circus-like atmosphere shrouding opener “The Sea Surgeon,” Pierce’s use of organ permeates much of No Cure for the Sick’s forty minutes, buoying the melodic heaviness and excellent solo work with jig-like danceability (“Remedies of Pagan Medicine,” “Last Anatomy of Johan Ziegler,” “No Cure for the Sick”). Pierce’s melodically charged instrumentation, when juxtaposed against his gore-ground gurglings—a combo that works in a way it has no right to—sees Lipoma doing something I find wholly unique, a rarity in today’s digital age. I have had a ton of fun with No Cure for the Sick, and if you’ve not checked it out yet, do so post haste.

Iceberg’s Frosty Forget-Me-Nots

Puppe Magnetik // Laudans Deum [June 6th, 2025 – The Circle Music]

Laudans Deum is not for the faint of heart, if that album cover didn’t quite convince you. The debut compilation of Puppe Magnetik, the record dives deep into the recesses of the human psyche. Aina Virtanen weaponizes industrial metal, ambient, and drone, wrapped up in the stylings of the Weimar Republic. An accomplished classically-trained musician, Virtanen uses her clean vocals sparingly (“Who Will Sing This Sorrow,” “Labyrinth”) but to great effect, reminiscent of Diablo Swing Orchestra. But the accessibility stops there; Laudans Deum’s thirteen tracks are comprised of ambient meditations (“Moritat”), ear-splitting electronic barrages (“Suspendium, Rosarium et Crucifixu”), and mood music fit for a throwback horror movie (“The Pregnant Nun,” “Patient AV”). But within the graveyard are scattered moments of respite; the gorgeously rendered classical guitar of “Timeless Serenade” and the haunting vocals of “Laments From The Desert.” While the album is unforgivingly through-composed, making for an exceptionally difficult first listen, there’s something darkly endearing about it. I’m reminded of Sergei Prokofiev, the Russian composer whose music was often described as both grotesque and starkly beautiful. Puppe Magnetik have produced a challenging record, but it’s worth a listen for those who enjoy avant-garde music and the stranger, more terrifying corners of the aural arts.

All Men Unto Me // Requiem [June 27th, 2025 – The Larvarium]

A little more metal, but a lot more challenging, All Men Unto Me’s Requiem brings to bear the full weight of spiritual suffering. Requiem is a direct interpretation of the Latin Mass for the Dead, it’s eight tracks playing all the hits. Fuzzed out, half-time doom takes a supporting role in a record that heavily features pipe organ, acoustic guitar, and string leads. Rylan Greaves takes a unique approach here, subverting the natural tension and release of the rite by injecting clanging noise into passages normally reverent. Their vocal performance is the unrepentant star of the show, at times crystalline (“Introit”) at others sobbing (“Kyrie”) straining (“Agnus Dei”) and howling (“Sequentia”). The album takes its time to sink its claws into you, with long track lengths and extended droning chords requiring patience. But pay close attention to Greaves’ lyrics and you can’t help but be pulled into the raw, emotional drama of Requiem. The rising, ethereal sunset of “In Paradisum,” the falsetto whisper speaking “God knows what I’d be without you” against an impossibly high, ever so slightly off-key bell-tone. One’s left wondering the true meaning of that line as the track ends, and the dead remain silent. A powerful statement indeed.

Killjoy’s Fabulous Find

Fabula Rasa // Tome II: The Beyond [June 13th, 2025 – Self-Release]

The words “fabulous” and “fable” are interconnected, both derived from the Latin word “fabulosus.” And since folk music and power metal draw heavily from fables and myths, the portmanteau Fabula Rasa is a fitting name for a group that blends both genres. Following the lead of forebears Elvenking and early Mägo de Oz, this spirited crew from Düsseldorf, Germany, infuses what would otherwise be standard—but good!—heavy/power metal with lots of violin. The violin and guitar trade off playing the lead melodies, though the former tends to have greater emphasis. But fret not, shred-heads, for the guitar solos are also exemplary in the more power metal-leaning songs, like “Dragon Rising” and “Vengeance Is Mine.” The violin often carves its own folksy space, the cheery, zippy fiddling akin to Dalriada (“At Full Moon,” “Anthem of the North”). Most songs are energetic, but “Burning Innocence” is a pleasant surprise midway through the record, with hand drums and the other band members’ vocal contributions creating an intimate group setting. Don’t miss this charismatic performance from these fabulous musicians.

Maddog’s Sludgy Selection

Dimscûa // Dust Eater [June 3rd, 2025 – Self-Release]

While sludge is a dime a dozen, few bands scratch the same itch as Amenra’s best work. The UK’s Dimscûa aims to correct this oversight. Dust Eater opens with “Elder Bairn,” whose rhythmic riffs evoke the meditative power of LLNN. After this appetizer, the album’s interplay between brawn and heart rivals Amenra. While Dimscûa’s muscular riffs drive the album forward (“Existence/Futility”), Dust Eater stands out through its hypnotic melodies. The heartache in these melodies is palpable, magnified by tortured vocals that recall Julie Christmas. Because of this ebb and flow, the album never feels bloated despite its eight-minute average track length. For instance, “Existence/Futility” abandons and then suddenly resurrects its driving main riff, adding unexpected variety and lodging into my memory. Dust Eater’s climaxes sometimes fall short, like the fizzle-out ending of “The Dusteater.” But despite its imperfections, Dimscûa’s debut is a powerful outing in a neglected style.3

Dear Hollaback’s Ain’t No B-A-N-A-N-A-S

Various Artists // KPop Demon Hunters [Original Motion Picture Soundtrack] [June 20th, 2025 – Republic Records]4

Okay, look. Look. K-Pop is not metal, I get that. But the gang over at Sony concocted what just recently earned the title of Netflix’s most watched movie of all time, and holy shit, what a soundtrack.. I’d like to use the classic “my daughter made me do it” schtick but she only likes “Takedown.”5 KPop Demon Hunters creates insanely catchy pop music that’s also focused and intentional, a commentary on the rigid and flagellant nature of K-Pop alongside feel-good messages of self-acceptance and healing (“Golden,” “What It Sounds Like”). The focal girl group HUNTR/X does most of the heavy lifting, also tossing in enough pop culture-inclined battle hymns to make the republic jealous (“How It’s Done,” “Takedown”). Their on-screen rivals Saja Boys offer entendre-layered sugary pop (the infamous “Soda Pop”) and sinister Gregorian-influenced choruses (“Your Idol”). Beyond the novelty is intentionality: clever chord progressions that feel continually transcendent rather than stagnantly by-the-numbers (“What It Sounds Like”), diminuendos of authenticity among bombasts of a glossy sheen (“Golden”), touches of dissonance paired with unsettling slant rhymes (“Your Idol”), and rhythmic complexity building to ethereal climaxes of soaring belts (“Free”). While yes, I’m telling you to give it a spin, I am also giving excuses for why my review count dropped to critical this summer. Fuck off, I’m gonna be, gonna be golden.

#2025 #AllMenUntoMe #Ambient #AmericanMetal #AtTheGates #AvantGarde #Brymir #Carcass #Dalriada #DarkTranquility #Deathcore #Defiance #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Dimscûa #Drone #DustEater #Elvenking #FabulaRasa #FinnishMetal #FolkMetal #GermanMetal #GurglingGore #HeavyMetal #HUNTRX #ImperiumDelirium #IndustrialMetal #Jun25 #KPop #KPopDemonHunters #LaudansDeum #Lipoma #LymphaticPhlegm #MägoDeOz #MelodicDeathMetal #MelodicDeathcore #Nightbearer #NoCureForTheSick #Opeth #Pharmacist #PowerMetal #PuppeMagnetik #RepublicRecords #Requiem #Review #Reviews #SajaBoys #SelfRelease #SelfReleased #ShadowOfIntent #StuckInTheFilter #TestimonyRecords #TheCircleMusic #TheLarvarium #TomeIITheBeyond #UKMetal #VariousArtists

Record(s) o’ the Month – June 2025

By Angry Metal Guy

As we inch inexorably closer to relevance and timeliness, we must first cross the fallow fields of June. A weird month, June was differentiated by the sheer number of recommendations that I received from the staff. Some months will see the Groupthink kick in, and everyone will vote for the same three albums. But June had no clear standout. Instead, it had a raft of yeah, I like that! That said, the longer I’ve spent with the records that were released in June, the more I have enjoyed almost all of the recommendations. Some of them unexpectedly. That there were so many recommendations has meant that I have had to take my time. But at last, the time has come…

You guys remember that time when we had a big kerfuffle with the guy who produced The Flesh Prevails? That’s the last time that I can clock that a Fallujah record really hit home for me. As much as I adored their debut, Fallujah’s post-gettin’-big material has largely left me cold. I’m not even sure I remember listening to 2022’s Empyrean until prepping for this. Xenotaph—out June 13th, 2025, from Nuclear Blast Records [Bandcamp]—is different. With a vibe that screams Traced in Air, but with a willingness to push into the realms of death metal that made Fallujah a household name,1 Xenotaph hits genuinely different. Sounding something more akin to reunion-era Cynic works for them because it’s technically appealing, it’s melodically sexy, and it doesn’t undermine their strengths. It enhances them. While The Harvest Wounds did have a vaguely atmospheric backing, the guitars and drums had bite, and the whole album didn’t have the dreamlike quality that came to define their follow-ups. While the increasingly atmospheric vibe undermined the band’s sound for me, Xenotaph—which features more guitar attack than any record of theirs since their debut, probably—benefits from the dreamy qualities, giving it a surreal, progressive feel that flows with the album art, the dynamic vocal performances, and interesting composition. Yet, the reintroduction of attack on the guitars and the more consistent compositional dynamics make Xenotaph feel heavier and more immediate than anything I’ve heard from these Bay Area death metallers in a long time. The deeper I dig into Xenotaph, the stronger it feels. Dolphin Whisperer noted—in a newborn baby-induced fugue state—that the album benefits from borderline-conceptual interlinkages between songs and “endless and lush guitar layers that scaffold the composition on Xenotaph and make it a rewarding, repeatable listen.” That’s unusually understated for a Record o’ the Month review. So let me hyperbolize: Fallujah has achieved a conceptual evolution on Xenotaph that feels true to their origins and yet develops their sound in ways that make it accessible, and yet, truly unique. Said differently, Fallujah’s sellout has been well executed, and I’m here for it.2

Runner(s) Up:

Insania // The Great Apocalypse [June 13th, 2025 | Frontiers Music | Stream on Tidal] — I was surprised when I started listening to Insania’s The Great Apocalypse and found myself increasingly invested in it. At first, it was the kind of record that felt familiar—a solid Good! on the rating scale, something that scratched an itch and amused me—but with time, I came to see so much more. Too much of the response to this album has been to write it off as either derivative or rote power metal, but a deep dive tells a different story. The Great Apocalypse finds a band that’s developing its sound, using decades of experience, and branching out slowly but surely. This becomes increasingly true as the album continues. A bit like T/L’s Rhapsody, this record starts in the familiar and becomes increasingly adventurous and interesting as it goes on—with particularly elevated guitarwork throughout. But I don’t need to justify my love for The Great Apocalypse by saying it’s more than it is perceived to be. Because it is also a very good Europower record from a band that cut its teeth decades ago and has reawakened full of piss, vinegar, and addictive hockey rock choruses that you won’t forget for days. To quote an earlier, extremely excited version of AMG Myself, “by playing to form and yet resisting predictability, The Great Apocalypse finds Insania sounding like a band that knows the rules so well that they don’t have to break them; they subvert them. While earlier albums felt a bit paint-by-numbers, added nuance and increasing sophistication have propelled Insania into a different tier: one that’s ambitious, confident, and, at times, even profound.”3

Cryptopsy // An Insatiable Violence [June 20th, 2025 | Season of Mist | Bandcamp] — Remember when a Cryptopsy release was the biggest deal in the metal scene since the last Cryptopsy release? It’s been a while. And yet An Insatiable Violence is a reminder that Cryptopsy is still very sorry for whatever it was they tried to do, and actually, they’re still really fucking good. Maybe they’ve gotten better. At first pass, An Insatiable Violence feels like a continuation of 13 years of Cryptopsy paying penance for an album no one liked while proving they can still rip with the best of them. But the longer you sit with An Insatiable Violence, the more it comes into focus as something greater: 38 minutes that deliberately weave together every era of Cryptopsy, from the bone-grinding grooves and whirwind savagery of their early days to flashes of melody and subtle nods to avant-garde detours. As some fucking guy who I’ve never heard of before (Alekhines Gun?4) wrote with an obvious excess of pathos that makes me wonder whether he’s a fit for what we do around here: “For the last decade plus, Cryptopsy have enhanced their skillset, honed their compositions, and fine-tuned their performances into the giants they used to be. An Insatiable Violence is engaging, bloodthirsty, frantic, and most importantly, an excellent release from a granddaddy band who are here to remind any that there truly is none so vile.”

Helms Deep // Chasing the Dragon [June 20th, 2025 | Nameless Grave Records | Bandcamp] — American power metal was on a lot of lips in June. Alas, everyone was talking about one band with great music, but who struggled to stick the landing. On the other hand, not enough people were talking about the album that literally has a dragon with a fucking jetpack on the cover, as well as a vocalist who can both cheese and hit notes when doing his US Power Metal Obligatory Falsetto Wail™. Whether evoking Mötely Crüe (“Cursed”) or Rata Blanca (“Craze of the Vampire”), Helms Deep does it all with the kind of charm and pizzazz that is undeniable. Chasing the Dragon exudes a certain charisma, what the kids would call “rizz,” but also has a righteously old school production job—in style, if not in DR Score—that makes me feel like I’m listening to a dubbed tape that my brother’s buddy’s older brother recorded for us. But all of this is window dressing on a record that is chock full of genuinely good guitar work, fun writing, and the kind of Drinking a PBR and Headbanging with My People energy that metal has increasingly lost as listeners and practitioners have become invested in Being Taken Very Seriously as Artists.5 As a-guy-who-definitely-is-not-Superman wrote, unchecked by journalistic ethics or a desire to be circumspect and humble in his opining: “Within the belly of this dragon is a great album. I immensely enjoyed my time with Chasing the Dragon, which has a modern sound that is clearly dedicated to its influences without ripping them off. Sciortino has created a magical project. If Helms Deep can combine their balls-to-the-wall energy with some discipline, their next album could be a monster.” Point taken, it’s long, but Chasing the Dragon is already a monster. A winged, armored, fire-breathing monster wearing a fucking jet pack!

#2025 #AnInsatiableViolence #AngryMetalGuy #BlogPost #ChasingTheDragon #Cryptopsy #Empyrean #Fallujah #HelmsDeep #Insania #Jun25 #RecordSOTheMonth #RecordsOfTheMonth #TheFleshPrevails #TheGreatApocalypse #Xenotaph

Heathen’s Eye – Port Inspiro Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Written by: Nameless_n00b_607

The past is a vast well of knowledge and inspiration, but dwelling in it too much has its perils. Not enough of your spin on things can make your album sound generic and stale, while too much can alienate your target audience. Genres with accessible melodic songwriting are a precarious balancing act in this regard, and standing out becomes even more of a trial by fire. Swedish band Heathen’s Eye is boldly trying to make their mark in these well-traveled lands with their debut Port Inspiro, the Esperanto title meaning ‘inspired by the past.’ Can this freshly formed team of experienced musicians sail through time without getting lost along the way?

The heart of Heathen’s Eye beats comfortably within the late-’80s/early-‘90s borderlands between melodic rock and metal. On the metal side of things, the songwriting channels the anthemic nature of Accept’s Metal Heart. Electrifying guitars by axe wielder Göran Hamrin, accompanied by the soaring baritone vocals of Robb Lindh, are Port Inspiro’s driving force, bringing a welcome Jornian attitude to the record. While Lindh is not Lord Jørn—and occasionally trades away his strengths for versatility—his voice fits the genre like a glove, being often reminiscent of a more rock-oriented Johan Längqvist (Candlemass). In between the heavier bits are traces of Magnum and Journey piercing through, with Mikael Andersson’s wide synth arsenal drifting from bright and nostalgic to dark and mystical between songs. Despite leaning towards the softer end of the metalverse, Heathen’s Eye shows they can still riff, with some unexpectedly hefty guitar and drum work (“Mirrorman,” “Blind”) adding appropriate counterweight to the album.

Confident veteran musicianship makes Port Inspiro turn out to be more varied and ambitious than it seems at first glance. “Ghosts of Yesterday” and “Monsters” both recall the subtly progressive melodic side of acts such as ‘90s Fates Warning or earlier Queensrÿche. This side of the record makes it a good companion piece to something like the recent A-Z album, albeit leaning less towards prog and more towards AOR. When Heathen’s Eye ups the speed and energy, a hint of power metal influence is noticeable too. The record reaches a particular apex when all these separate elements get to coalesce and transcend (“Firepriest”). While I wish the album had more bursts of glory in this vein and spent less time in its mid-paced comfort zone, the material’s catchiness mostly makes up for the lack of speed. The band’s influences coming from more than one place significantly increase the album’s replay value, and a smooth blend crafted by experienced hands keeps the ship well afloat.

Port Inspiro is an enjoyable experience overall, but it suffers from some pacing issues. At 63 minutes, the album quite convincingly sprints past LP length. Its plentiful hooks and variety offer a convincing illusion of brevity, but most songs here fall in the 5–6-minute range, and some do overstay their welcome (“Monsters,” “Time to Deliver”). The pacing also becomes apparent in the album’s clunky middle, where several songs in a row feature lengthy intros, suggesting a mild case of Steve Harris-itis. Another place where the pacing is problematic is that Heathen’s Eye places two ballads almost next to each other. Cutting the somber, stylistic pariah “Lost in the Wind” would result in a more cohesive album. Ultimately, none of these are huge issues, and the album is still a pleasant journey with all 12 tracks ranging from solid to very good. The warm and vibrant production job at a surprising DR10 helps to make Port Inspiro cozy listening from start to finish.1

If Heathen’s Eye can further zero in on their songwriting, their good formula here could very well turn into a resounding triumph. Port Inspiro celebrates the past while also combining the band’s influences in interesting ways. It might not be innovative—it doesn’t intend to be—but it does succeed in its main goal: it’s fun. And while some extra trimming and urgency would have further improved the record’s pacing, it still manages to feel shorter than it is. Even with occasional missteps, Port Inspiro is a comfortable listen that has plenty of tunes combining anthemic and creative, inspired by but not stuck in the past. I’ll be curious to see if they can take what they’ve learned and follow up with an even stronger package; momentum is on their side.

Rating: Good!
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: V3 MP32
Label: Pride & Joy Music
Websites Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Accept #AOR #Candlemass #FatesWarning #HeathenSEye #Jorn #Journey #Jun25 #Magnum #MelodicMetal #MetalHeart #PortInspiro #Queensryche #Review #Reviews #SwedishMetal

Heathen’s Eye – Port Inspiro Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Written by: Nameless_n00b_607

The past is a vast well of knowledge and inspiration, but dwelling in it too much has its perils. Not enough of your spin on things can make your album sound generic and stale, while too much can alienate your target audience. Genres with accessible melodic songwriting are a precarious balancing act in this regard, and standing out becomes even more of a trial by fire. Swedish band Heathen’s Eye is boldly trying to make their mark in these well-traveled lands with their debut Port Inspiro, the Esperanto title meaning ‘inspired by the past.’ Can this freshly formed team of experienced musicians sail through time without getting lost along the way?

The heart of Heathen’s Eye beats comfortably within the late-’80s/early-‘90s borderlands between melodic rock and metal. On the metal side of things, the songwriting channels the anthemic nature of Accept’s Metal Heart. Electrifying guitars by axe wielder Göran Hamrin, accompanied by the soaring baritone vocals of Robb Lindh, are Port Inspiro’s driving force, bringing a welcome Jornian attitude to the record. While Lindh is not Lord Jørn—and occasionally trades away his strengths for versatility—his voice fits the genre like a glove, being often reminiscent of a more rock-oriented Johan Längqvist (Candlemass). In between the heavier bits are traces of Magnum and Journey piercing through, with Mikael Andersson’s wide synth arsenal drifting from bright and nostalgic to dark and mystical between songs. Despite leaning towards the softer end of the metalverse, Heathen’s Eye shows they can still riff, with some unexpectedly hefty guitar and drum work (“Mirrorman,” “Blind”) adding appropriate counterweight to the album.

Confident veteran musicianship makes Port Inspiro turn out to be more varied and ambitious than it seems at first glance. “Ghosts of Yesterday” and “Monsters” both recall the subtly progressive melodic side of acts such as ‘90s Fates Warning or earlier Queensrÿche. This side of the record makes it a good companion piece to something like the recent A-Z album, albeit leaning less towards prog and more towards AOR. When Heathen’s Eye ups the speed and energy, a hint of power metal influence is noticeable too. The record reaches a particular apex when all these separate elements get to coalesce and transcend (“Firepriest”). While I wish the album had more bursts of glory in this vein and spent less time in its mid-paced comfort zone, the material’s catchiness mostly makes up for the lack of speed. The band’s influences coming from more than one place significantly increase the album’s replay value, and a smooth blend crafted by experienced hands keeps the ship well afloat.

Port Inspiro is an enjoyable experience overall, but it suffers from some pacing issues. At 63 minutes, the album quite convincingly sprints past LP length. Its plentiful hooks and variety offer a convincing illusion of brevity, but most songs here fall in the 5–6-minute range, and some do overstay their welcome (“Monsters,” “Time to Deliver”). The pacing also becomes apparent in the album’s clunky middle, where several songs in a row feature lengthy intros, suggesting a mild case of Steve Harris-itis. Another place where the pacing is problematic is that Heathen’s Eye places two ballads almost next to each other. Cutting the somber, stylistic pariah “Lost in the Wind” would result in a more cohesive album. Ultimately, none of these are huge issues, and the album is still a pleasant journey with all 12 tracks ranging from solid to very good. The warm and vibrant production job at a surprising DR10 helps to make Port Inspiro cozy listening from start to finish.1

If Heathen’s Eye can further zero in on their songwriting, their good formula here could very well turn into a resounding triumph. Port Inspiro celebrates the past while also combining the band’s influences in interesting ways. It might not be innovative—it doesn’t intend to be—but it does succeed in its main goal: it’s fun. And while some extra trimming and urgency would have further improved the record’s pacing, it still manages to feel shorter than it is. Even with occasional missteps, Port Inspiro is a comfortable listen that has plenty of tunes combining anthemic and creative, inspired by but not stuck in the past. I’ll be curious to see if they can take what they’ve learned and follow up with an even stronger package; momentum is on their side.

Rating: Good!
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: V3 MP32
Label: Pride & Joy Music
Websites Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Accept #AOR #Candlemass #FatesWarning #HeathenSEye #Jorn #Journey #Jun25 #Magnum #MelodicMetal #MetalHeart #PortInspiro #Queensryche #Review #Reviews #SwedishMetal

Ophelion – The Jaunt Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Written By: Nameless_n00b_604 In the canon of life-ruining short stories, somewhere amidst Ellison’s “I Have No Mouth and Must Scream” and Jackson’s “The Lottery,” you’ll find Stephen King’s “The Jaunt.” In summary: Family sets out to teleport to Mars on The Jaunt, Dad tells kids that taking The Jaunt while unanesthetized makes you go crazy, Boy takes the Jaunt unanesthetized, Boy experiences time “longer than you think!”, Boy goes crazy and attempts disposing of own eyes by way of own fingers. It’s a story so metal, it begs for musical adaptation. UK-based progressive metallers Ophelion have accepted the challenge in their five-track self-released debut. Undeniably bold, are they up to adapting such a stark, deceptively simple tale?

The Jaunt progs hard. Opeth’s shadow looms large, particularly heavy on “Voice of Thought” through haunting key melodies, breathy crooning, and crushing growls by Marcello Vieira (Braveride) and Gabriel Riccio, respectively. Guitarist/bassist/co-songwriter Shaun Eggleston and drummer Travis Orbin (Darkest Hour, ex-Periphery) groove over odd, shifting time signatures while co-songwriter Steven Eggleston’s synthesizers primarily lay down chord beds (“Transference”) and create atmosphere (“Emergence”). The mix is loud and busy, but the musicianship is on par with the luminaries of prog metal, dishing out water-tight grooves (“Artefact,” “Voice of Thought”), masterful soloing, and longform compositions that weave through bridge after copious bridge. As such, if you’re allergic to any of the developments in progressive metal from the past thirty years, The Jaunt is liable to give you a rash, as Ophelion strikes them all.1

But Ophelion has the vision to appeal to more than prog nerds. Chugs are ubiquitous across The Jaunt, but varied rhythms keep things groovy rather than monotonous alongside embellishment-rich riffage (“Transference” at 1:10, “Exodus” at 5:07). Fretboard warrior Shaun Eggleston weaves Petrucciesque solos on “Exodus” but also conjures thrash nastiness on “Artefact” (3:37), sounding like Megadeth trying southern rock. Vieira sports a reedy high register and the Euro-power proclivity to over-enunciate and under-pronounce, but his gravitas is undeniably infectious. Riccio’s growls ooze spit-and-vinegar, with instrumentation turning chromatic and dissonant with his appearances (“Voice of Thought,” “Artefact”). A lot happens on The Jaunt; sometimes too much, too rapidly. With so many brief movements throughout, Ophelion is the antimatter of atmoblack metal—doing too much for not long enough—and the music often doesn’t repeat enough to nestle into the listener’s brain.2 Regardless, Ophelion’s diverse virtuosity should please most metalheads.

What’s most impressive, however, is how everything coalesces into storytelling. Departing from King, Ophelion enters The Jaunt through an unnamed traveler (“Transference”), with Vieira portraying him enduring bodyless consciousness (“Voice of Thought”) before watching his thoughts manifest into civilizations “Praying to the skies to a god who wants to die”3 (“Artefact”), creating the Jaunt themselves. Riccio plays the voice of the titular Jaunt, callously enlightening him that “As you watch your body / Enter the machine / All happens once again / The universe exists recursively” (“Exodus”). Like King’s prose, the lyricism—if somewhat on-the-nose—is concisely vivid.

Songwriting sells the lyrics through film score-level symbiosis between music and narrative. The solos in “Artefact” become progressively unhinged, reflecting the traveler’s increasing anguish. The spacey “Emergence” conveys the emptiness between losing control (“Voice of Thought”) and becoming omniscient (“Artefact”). Finally, concluding “Exodus”—depicting the traveler’s release from the Jaunt and subsequent self-blinding—sees a quiet, eerie key change as Ophelion rebuilds momentum to crescendo into a final solo before leaving a lone acoustic guitar, recalling the acoustic “Transference” intro, evoking the cursed recursive universe.4 Ophelion didn’t just use King’s story as a backdrop; the narrative is essential in enjoying The Jaunt as art.

Ophelion’s The Jaunt brushes the hem of greatness. With a more settled approach to songwriting—letting hooks sink in—Ophelion could be lethal. Though sometimes too frenetic, The Jaunt nevertheless abounds with excellent ideas, musicianship, and narrative, an easy pick for any prog fan and/or enemy of the “less is more” philosophy.5 Give The Jaunt a try. Just don’t hold your breath.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 8 | Review Format: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-Released
Website: ophelionmusic.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: June 23rd, 2025

#2025 #35 #Braveride #BritishMetal #DarkestHour #Jun25 #Megadeth #Opeth #Ophelion #Periphery #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelase #TheJaunt

Ophelion – The Jaunt Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Written By: Nameless_n00b_604 In the canon of life-ruining short stories, somewhere amidst Ellison’s “I Have No Mouth and Must Scream” and Jackson’s “The Lottery,” you’ll find Stephen King’s “The Jaunt.” In summary: Family sets out to teleport to Mars on The Jaunt, Dad tells kids that taking The Jaunt while unanesthetized makes you go crazy, Boy takes the Jaunt unanesthetized, Boy experiences time “longer than you think!”, Boy goes crazy and attempts disposing of own eyes by way of own fingers. It’s a story so metal, it begs for musical adaptation. UK-based progressive metallers Ophelion have accepted the challenge in their five-track self-released debut. Undeniably bold, are they up to adapting such a stark, deceptively simple tale?

The Jaunt progs hard. Opeth’s shadow looms large, particularly heavy on “Voice of Thought” through haunting key melodies, breathy crooning, and crushing growls by Marcello Vieira (Braveride) and Gabriel Riccio, respectively. Guitarist/bassist/co-songwriter Shaun Eggleston and drummer Travis Orbin (Darkest Hour, ex-Periphery) groove over odd, shifting time signatures while co-songwriter Steven Eggleston’s synthesizers primarily lay down chord beds (“Transference”) and create atmosphere (“Emergence”). The mix is loud and busy, but the musicianship is on par with the luminaries of prog metal, dishing out water-tight grooves (“Artefact,” “Voice of Thought”), masterful soloing, and longform compositions that weave through bridge after copious bridge. As such, if you’re allergic to any of the developments in progressive metal from the past thirty years, The Jaunt is liable to give you a rash, as Ophelion strikes them all.1

But Ophelion has the vision to appeal to more than prog nerds. Chugs are ubiquitous across The Jaunt, but varied rhythms keep things groovy rather than monotonous alongside embellishment-rich riffage (“Transference” at 1:10, “Exodus” at 5:07). Fretboard warrior Shaun Eggleston weaves Petrucciesque solos on “Exodus” but also conjures thrash nastiness on “Artefact” (3:37), sounding like Megadeth trying southern rock. Vieira sports a reedy high register and the Euro-power proclivity to over-enunciate and under-pronounce, but his gravitas is undeniably infectious. Riccio’s growls ooze spit-and-vinegar, with instrumentation turning chromatic and dissonant with his appearances (“Voice of Thought,” “Artefact”). A lot happens on The Jaunt; sometimes too much, too rapidly. With so many brief movements throughout, Ophelion is the antimatter of atmoblack metal—doing too much for not long enough—and the music often doesn’t repeat enough to nestle into the listener’s brain.2 Regardless, Ophelion’s diverse virtuosity should please most metalheads.

What’s most impressive, however, is how everything coalesces into storytelling. Departing from King, Ophelion enters The Jaunt through an unnamed traveler (“Transference”), with Vieira portraying him enduring bodyless consciousness (“Voice of Thought”) before watching his thoughts manifest into civilizations “Praying to the skies to a god who wants to die”3 (“Artefact”), creating the Jaunt themselves. Riccio plays the voice of the titular Jaunt, callously enlightening him that “As you watch your body / Enter the machine / All happens once again / The universe exists recursively” (“Exodus”). Like King’s prose, the lyricism—if somewhat on-the-nose—is concisely vivid.

Songwriting sells the lyrics through film score-level symbiosis between music and narrative. The solos in “Artefact” become progressively unhinged, reflecting the traveler’s increasing anguish. The spacey “Emergence” conveys the emptiness between losing control (“Voice of Thought”) and becoming omniscient (“Artefact”). Finally, concluding “Exodus”—depicting the traveler’s release from the Jaunt and subsequent self-blinding—sees a quiet, eerie key change as Ophelion rebuilds momentum to crescendo into a final solo before leaving a lone acoustic guitar, recalling the acoustic “Transference” intro, evoking the cursed recursive universe.4 Ophelion didn’t just use King’s story as a backdrop; the narrative is essential in enjoying The Jaunt as art.

Ophelion’s The Jaunt brushes the hem of greatness. With a more settled approach to songwriting—letting hooks sink in—Ophelion could be lethal. Though sometimes too frenetic, The Jaunt nevertheless abounds with excellent ideas, musicianship, and narrative, an easy pick for any prog fan and/or enemy of the “less is more” philosophy.5 Give The Jaunt a try. Just don’t hold your breath.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 8 | Review Format: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-Released
Website: ophelionmusic.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: June 23rd, 2025

#2025 #35 #Braveride #BritishMetal #DarkestHour #Jun25 #Megadeth #Opeth #Ophelion #Periphery #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelase #TheJaunt

Grace Hayhurst – The World Is Dying Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Written By: Nameless_n00b_601

Making good progressive metal is incredibly difficult. Where styles like black metal can still succeed without considered songwriting or astonishing musicianship, prog is a fickle mistress, demanding expert songcraft that balances dynamic peaks and valleys, as well as considerable instrumental prowess. Even prog’s biggest bands still routinely falter when armed with a fearsome squad of world-class musicians and major label backing.1 Still, this fails to deter new artists without such resources from aiming for the sheer highs the style can offer. Enter English multi-instrumentalist Grace Hayhurst and her debut record, The World Is Dying. Except for drums, Hayhurst accomplishes the impressive task of composing and performing an expansive prog album entirely by herself. Informed by both ’70s prog rock and modern prog metal, alongside orchestral music and sci-fi media, The World Is Dying aims to be music that Hayhurst “wants to listen to.” Can this one-woman independent release fulfill her ambitions and succeed in producing a quality prog album where her contemporaries have failed?

Grace Hayhurst demonstrates a clear familiarity with prog, which she uses to craft engaging and varied songs. Her brand of prog metal is very much in line with the approach to the subgenre crystallized by Dream Theater and modernized by Haken, complete with a dash of extra British flavor á la Steven Wilson and Gentle Giant. Vocal-led compositions feature keyboards front and center, alongside odd time signatures and syncopated guitar riffs across dynamic shifts between softer, atmospheric moments and heavier passages with distorted power chords. Hayhurst follows the “prog playbook” while managing to avoid the common pitfalls of unfocused songwriting and extended solo sections, which plague many of her contemporaries. Instead of mashing together unrelated parts around a vague pop song structure, she builds on a distinct rhythmic or melodic motif and follows it throughout a song. Hayhurst weaves in and out of verses, choruses, and solos while dialing the intensity up or down depending on the part. The World Is Dying’s strongest songs use such motifs as central throughlines, complicating and enhancing compositions through texture and instrument substitutions (“Us vs Them,” “Revolution”).

Stunning compositions are only part of a successful prog equation, though, and unfortunately, Grace Hayhurst is an unengaging vocalist. The vocal parts themselves are all competently written, but vocally, she lacks the power or personality necessary to lead songs consisting of big hooks and dramatic peaks. Her vocal delivery is breathy and devoid of emotion. This makes the more chorus-focused songs (“The World Is Dying,” “It’s Our Fault”) significantly weaker, as each song’s repeated centerpiece falls flat. This isn’t helped by uninspiring lyrics throughout, which are presented with crystal clear audibility due to the production style. The record is entirely about humankind’s destruction of the Earth and the lack of consequences for those in power who have caused this. Yet, there’s no use of metaphor or abstraction in dealing with this potentially rich topic, just relatively plain language doled out in obvious rhyme schemes. After repeated listens, I find myself constantly pulled away from the tension created by lush instrumentation when what should be a memorable vocal moment fails to land.

When the vocals aren’t centered, The World Is Dying is loaded with engaging compositions, replete with musical layers and countermelodies that elevate an already-strong instrumental core. The individual sections themselves can sometimes veer into predictable, generic prog territory, but there is no shortage of textural flavor or variety, which adds nuance and replayability to several tunes. Nature sound effects are used to strengthen the concept while deepening the sonic space (“Our Forest, the Earth”), slap bass is employed for some funktastic groove changeups (“Us Vs. Them”) and guitar/synth melodies are embellished with tasty, doubled harmonies or added strings and orchestral flare (“Take Off”). On the vocal end, there are efforts made with layered harmonies and vocoders to make things a bit more interesting by pulling the focus away from a single vocal performance. Even harsh vocals are deployed at a few key moments, such as the end of the 13-minute “Revolution,” to great effect. Although on the track list, this is followed by an interlude and then the album closer, “Absent Futures,” a vocal-led acoustic ballad that falls flat due to its form.

The World Is Dying displays plenty of promise, but its potential is hampered by one unfortunately lackluster element. As a lover of prog, Grace Hayhurst’s debut is almost filled with enough whimsy and clever songwriting to excite me, but is ultimately held back by its weak vocals. I could see Hayhurst functioning well as the primary composer for a prog metal band with a dedicated singer. She still has some growth before carrying a full band on her own. For now, this album finds itself in the same predicament as its cover art: a competent package whose thematic cohesion is displaced by one disappointing component.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Independent
Websites: gracehr.st| gracehrst.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#25 #2025 #DreamTheater #GentleGiant #GraceHayhurst #Haken #Jun25 #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleases #StevenWilson #TheWorldIsDying

Grace Hayhurst – The World Is Dying Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Written By: Nameless_n00b_601

Making good progressive metal is incredibly difficult. Where styles like black metal can still succeed without considered songwriting or astonishing musicianship, prog is a fickle mistress, demanding expert songcraft that balances dynamic peaks and valleys, as well as considerable instrumental prowess. Even prog’s biggest bands still routinely falter when armed with a fearsome squad of world-class musicians and major label backing.1 Still, this fails to deter new artists without such resources from aiming for the sheer highs the style can offer. Enter English multi-instrumentalist Grace Hayhurst and her debut record, The World Is Dying. Except for drums, Hayhurst accomplishes the impressive task of composing and performing an expansive prog album entirely by herself. Informed by both ’70s prog rock and modern prog metal, alongside orchestral music and sci-fi media, The World Is Dying aims to be music that Hayhurst “wants to listen to.” Can this one-woman independent release fulfill her ambitions and succeed in producing a quality prog album where her contemporaries have failed?

Grace Hayhurst demonstrates a clear familiarity with prog, which she uses to craft engaging and varied songs. Her brand of prog metal is very much in line with the approach to the subgenre crystallized by Dream Theater and modernized by Haken, complete with a dash of extra British flavor á la Steven Wilson and Gentle Giant. Vocal-led compositions feature keyboards front and center, alongside odd time signatures and syncopated guitar riffs across dynamic shifts between softer, atmospheric moments and heavier passages with distorted power chords. Hayhurst follows the “prog playbook” while managing to avoid the common pitfalls of unfocused songwriting and extended solo sections, which plague many of her contemporaries. Instead of mashing together unrelated parts around a vague pop song structure, she builds on a distinct rhythmic or melodic motif and follows it throughout a song. Hayhurst weaves in and out of verses, choruses, and solos while dialing the intensity up or down depending on the part. The World Is Dying’s strongest songs use such motifs as central throughlines, complicating and enhancing compositions through texture and instrument substitutions (“Us vs Them,” “Revolution”).

Stunning compositions are only part of a successful prog equation, though, and unfortunately, Grace Hayhurst is an unengaging vocalist. The vocal parts themselves are all competently written, but vocally, she lacks the power or personality necessary to lead songs consisting of big hooks and dramatic peaks. Her vocal delivery is breathy and devoid of emotion. This makes the more chorus-focused songs (“The World Is Dying,” “It’s Our Fault”) significantly weaker, as each song’s repeated centerpiece falls flat. This isn’t helped by uninspiring lyrics throughout, which are presented with crystal clear audibility due to the production style. The record is entirely about humankind’s destruction of the Earth and the lack of consequences for those in power who have caused this. Yet, there’s no use of metaphor or abstraction in dealing with this potentially rich topic, just relatively plain language doled out in obvious rhyme schemes. After repeated listens, I find myself constantly pulled away from the tension created by lush instrumentation when what should be a memorable vocal moment fails to land.

When the vocals aren’t centered, The World Is Dying is loaded with engaging compositions, replete with musical layers and countermelodies that elevate an already-strong instrumental core. The individual sections themselves can sometimes veer into predictable, generic prog territory, but there is no shortage of textural flavor or variety, which adds nuance and replayability to several tunes. Nature sound effects are used to strengthen the concept while deepening the sonic space (“Our Forest, the Earth”), slap bass is employed for some funktastic groove changeups (“Us Vs. Them”) and guitar/synth melodies are embellished with tasty, doubled harmonies or added strings and orchestral flare (“Take Off”). On the vocal end, there are efforts made with layered harmonies and vocoders to make things a bit more interesting by pulling the focus away from a single vocal performance. Even harsh vocals are deployed at a few key moments, such as the end of the 13-minute “Revolution,” to great effect. Although on the track list, this is followed by an interlude and then the album closer, “Absent Futures,” a vocal-led acoustic ballad that falls flat due to its form.

The World Is Dying displays plenty of promise, but its potential is hampered by one unfortunately lackluster element. As a lover of prog, Grace Hayhurst’s debut is almost filled with enough whimsy and clever songwriting to excite me, but is ultimately held back by its weak vocals. I could see Hayhurst functioning well as the primary composer for a prog metal band with a dedicated singer. She still has some growth before carrying a full band on her own. For now, this album finds itself in the same predicament as its cover art: a competent package whose thematic cohesion is displaced by one disappointing component.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Independent
Websites: gracehr.st| gracehrst.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#25 #2025 #DreamTheater #GentleGiant #GraceHayhurst #Haken #Jun25 #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleases #StevenWilson #TheWorldIsDying

A-Z – A2Z² Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

In the eyes of a legacy creator, novelty and personal excitement drive the continued pursuit of the release. Mark Zonder, esteemed drummer of Warlord and formerly of Fates Warning, lives by this mantra, using A-Z as an outlet for his frenetic rhythmic focus surrounded by the performances of trusted partners. While mic-mate Ray Alder (Fates Warning, ex-Redemption) and thick-string-slinger Philip Bynoe (Warlord, Steve Vai) have returned to the fold for this follow-up, A2Z², to 2022’s self-titled debut, much of the cast looks to earn their stripes here. Slick-licked guitarists Nick van Dyke (Redemption) and Simone Mularoni (DGM, ex-Sunstorm)1 lean less ’80s but as fierce as ever in riffcraft and thicker assault. And keys maestro Jimmy Waldo (Alcatrazz, Warlord) partners in breezy build and shimmering accent to keep A2Z² rooted in whimsical wail. No need to teach old dogs new tricks when they’ve got barbs built into their every bite.

In an extension of A-Z’s mission of looking to write a diverse array of heavy metal cuts, A2Z² doubles down on the depths of tone throughout. The guitar duo of Van Dyke and Mularoni shifts from burly chords and knotty fills (“Fire Away,” “I Am Numb”) to slippery Steve Vai-leaning histrionics (“Nothing Is Over,” “Now I Walk Away”) to chiming melodic builds (“A Wordless Prison,” “This Chaotic Symphony”) on the turn of a blaring amp. And Alder, in turn, embodies through his chiseled-by-age gruff croon an expressive range from schmaltzy, forlorn ballad (“Wordless Prison” is a classic fit for this mode) to fist-raising, powerhouse crowd-movers, with the opening trio of tracks scorching hot in his lyrical fury. Of course, the cherry on top will always be Zonder’s progressive and playful Peart-indebted2 percussion, with capricious chatter laced in e-tom boings, hi-hat stutters, and tilted-frame shuffles that always move the music forward.

Despite this constant momentum within each track, A2Z² has a tricky flow between its aggressive and contemplative moments that presents as a barrier to easy full attachment. A-Z sticks to a formula—the classic verse-chorus ABABCB rock platform imbued with sick solos and hooks that reach for the stickiness of an act like Toto. And likewise, in this heavy stride, Alder finds a power and grit on aggressive numbers that matches so well the beefier guitar presence and pulsing rhythms (“Fire Away,” “Running in Place,” “I Am Numb”). But A2Z², being an experience built on the power of individual songs, runs into a momentum issue trudging through three slower songs, either ballads or mid-paced thumps, smack dab in the middle of the album (“A Wordless Prison,” “Reaching Out,” “The Remedy”). The professional ensemble of A-Z ensures that these songs are still good, of course—I never press skip. But the back half does feel hidden while trying to digest this run on early listens.

Alas, A-Z’s ability to pepper simple structures with colorful sonic texture and virtuosic aplomb continues to be a treat to harmony-seeking ears. Once you do hit side B, lush vocal layers against prog/power giddy-up (“I Am Numb”), dancing cello builds (“This Chaotic Symphony”), and slow burn-to-stewed solo extravagance (“Now I Walk Away”) land hit after hit on an audience looking for accidental displays of public karaoke and air shredding. A2Z² has no issue cranking the heat, starting from the get-go with scorching heavy metal and escalating in progressive play to the very end. And even at its weakest moments, both Alder and Zonder can use their talents in hot honey verse and tap-happy navigation, respectively, to fill a lull with a couple standout moments (“Wordless Prison,” “Reaching Out”).

Oftentimes, with this many Iron Chef cooks in the kitchen, an act of the collective talent that A-Z possesses can flounder out in noodle-forward instrumentation and gutless yet pretty refrain. However, A2Z² solidifies that when legacy artists form under a mission to create bold songs in an elevated, tangible package, great things can happen. A-Z isn’t revolutionary—nor do I think Zonder and co. are aiming for that kind of stamp on the heavy metal community. But A2Z², steeped in targeted chorus, searing leads, and stimulating percussive strut, remains a modern pleasure in its tried, true, and tricky demeanor.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade | Bandcamp
Websites: a-zband.com | facebook.com/AthruZBand
Release Worldwide: June 6th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AZ #A2Z_ #Alcatrazz #DGM #FatesWarning #HeavyMetal #InternationalMetal #Jun25 #MetalBlade #ProgressiveRock #Redemption #Review #Reviews #Rush #SteveVai #Toto #Warlord

A-Z – A2Z² Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

In the eyes of a legacy creator, novelty and personal excitement drive the continued pursuit of the release. Mark Zonder, esteemed drummer of Warlord and formerly of Fates Warning, lives by this mantra, using A-Z as an outlet for his frenetic rhythmic focus surrounded by the performances of trusted partners. While mic-mate Ray Alder (Fates Warning, ex-Redemption) and thick-string-slinger Philip Bynoe (Warlord, Steve Vai) have returned to the fold for this follow-up, A2Z², to 2022’s self-titled debut, much of the cast looks to earn their stripes here. Slick-licked guitarists Nick van Dyke (Redemption) and Simone Mularoni (DGM, ex-Sunstorm)1 lean less ’80s but as fierce as ever in riffcraft and thicker assault. And keys maestro Jimmy Waldo (Alcatrazz, Warlord) partners in breezy build and shimmering accent to keep A2Z² rooted in whimsical wail. No need to teach old dogs new tricks when they’ve got barbs built into their every bite.

In an extension of A-Z’s mission of looking to write a diverse array of heavy metal cuts, A2Z² doubles down on the depths of tone throughout. The guitar duo of Van Dyke and Mularoni shifts from burly chords and knotty fills (“Fire Away,” “I Am Numb”) to slippery Steve Vai-leaning histrionics (“Nothing Is Over,” “Now I Walk Away”) to chiming melodic builds (“A Wordless Prison,” “This Chaotic Symphony”) on the turn of a blaring amp. And Alder, in turn, embodies through his chiseled-by-age gruff croon an expressive range from schmaltzy, forlorn ballad (“Wordless Prison” is a classic fit for this mode) to fist-raising, powerhouse crowd-movers, with the opening trio of tracks scorching hot in his lyrical fury. Of course, the cherry on top will always be Zonder’s progressive and playful Peart-indebted2 percussion, with capricious chatter laced in e-tom boings, hi-hat stutters, and tilted-frame shuffles that always move the music forward.

Despite this constant momentum within each track, A2Z² has a tricky flow between its aggressive and contemplative moments that presents as a barrier to easy full attachment. A-Z sticks to a formula—the classic verse-chorus ABABCB rock platform imbued with sick solos and hooks that reach for the stickiness of an act like Toto. And likewise, in this heavy stride, Alder finds a power and grit on aggressive numbers that matches so well the beefier guitar presence and pulsing rhythms (“Fire Away,” “Running in Place,” “I Am Numb”). But A2Z², being an experience built on the power of individual songs, runs into a momentum issue trudging through three slower songs, either ballads or mid-paced thumps, smack dab in the middle of the album (“A Wordless Prison,” “Reaching Out,” “The Remedy”). The professional ensemble of A-Z ensures that these songs are still good, of course—I never press skip. But the back half does feel hidden while trying to digest this run on early listens.

Alas, A-Z’s ability to pepper simple structures with colorful sonic texture and virtuosic aplomb continues to be a treat to harmony-seeking ears. Once you do hit side B, lush vocal layers against prog/power giddy-up (“I Am Numb”), dancing cello builds (“This Chaotic Symphony”), and slow burn-to-stewed solo extravagance (“Now I Walk Away”) land hit after hit on an audience looking for accidental displays of public karaoke and air shredding. A2Z² has no issue cranking the heat, starting from the get-go with scorching heavy metal and escalating in progressive play to the very end. And even at its weakest moments, both Alder and Zonder can use their talents in hot honey verse and tap-happy navigation, respectively, to fill a lull with a couple standout moments (“Wordless Prison,” “Reaching Out”).

Oftentimes, with this many Iron Chef cooks in the kitchen, an act of the collective talent that A-Z possesses can flounder out in noodle-forward instrumentation and gutless yet pretty refrain. However, A2Z² solidifies that when legacy artists form under a mission to create bold songs in an elevated, tangible package, great things can happen. A-Z isn’t revolutionary—nor do I think Zonder and co. are aiming for that kind of stamp on the heavy metal community. But A2Z², steeped in targeted chorus, searing leads, and stimulating percussive strut, remains a modern pleasure in its tried, true, and tricky demeanor.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade | Bandcamp
Websites: a-zband.com | facebook.com/AthruZBand
Release Worldwide: June 6th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AZ #A2Z_ #Alcatrazz #DGM #FatesWarning #HeavyMetal #InternationalMetal #Jun25 #MetalBlade #ProgressiveRock #Redemption #Review #Reviews #Rush #SteveVai #Toto #Warlord

The Bleak Picture – Shades of Life Review

By Maddog

It’s been a draining year. Lacking the mental energy for new music, I’ve subsisted on a diet of ISIS and Fvneral Fvkk. Clouded by the doomy stylings of the latter, I decided to make my return to reviewing with dismal death-doom. Despite releasing their debut just last year, Finland’s The Bleak Picture is a project of members of Autumnfall. That said, these two bands sound worlds apart, as their names betray. Abandoning the blackened scenery of Autumnfall, The Bleak Picture paints a bleak picture with melodic death-doom that reeks of Finland. Channeling the icons of sadboi history, Shades of Life is a flawed but worthwhile slab of morose doom.

You won’t find much innovation here, but The Bleak Picture has learned from the best. Blending harsh vocals and spoken word, doomy plains and deathy mountain ranges, Shades of Life consists of familiar elements. The opener “Plagued by Sorrow” offers the listener zero seconds of respite before launching into a persistent doom riff. Melodic guitar leads steer the album along, stitching the doomy cuts together in a manner that recalls Enshine (“Without the I”). Rather than slowing to a standstill, The Bleak Picture uses Insomnium riffs to push the album along without diluting its sorrow. The guitars (handled by Jussi Hänninen, along with the other instruments) are the core of Shades of Life, but Tero Ruohonen’s vocals broaden its horizons. While he largely dwells in standard harsh territory, Ruohonen’s cleans tinge the album with gothic influences, like the distorted spoken word of “Absolution.” Indeed, sections like the straightforward rock of “Without the I” recall Paradise Lost. However, lest this lengthy description fool you, Shades of Life is largely standard fare.

It feels criminal to listen to Shades of Life on a 90-degree summer day. The Bleak Picture conveys emotion through the sheer enormity of their riffs, burying the listener like an avalanche (“Absolution”). Elsewhere, Shades of Life deftly intersperses these assaults with tranquility, like the transition from an explosive chorus to minimalist bass-led instrumentals on “Plagued by Sorrow.” These strengths reach their apex on the 11-minute spectacle “Silent Exit.” Evoking Swallow the Sun’s Plague of Butterflies, the track progresses through a nightmarish acoustic melody, forceful doom riffs, and girthy bass lines. Cult of Luna-style drumming leads the song into a climactic ending that raises the bar even further. Across these highlights, The Bleak Picture’s sophomore release boasts a mature approach to songwriting.

Shades of Life still struggles to transcend its melodic death-doom formula. The album’s biggest weakness is its monotony. In their quest for chunky riffs, The Bleak Picture tends to overuse ideas, emulating an uninspired version of Rapture (“Code of Ethics”). Even the album’s best pieces sometimes fizzle out, like the abrupt ending of the otherwise-powerful “Absolution.” Similarly, while the penultimate track “Silent Exit” showcases the best of Shades of Life, the closer “City of Ghosts” settles into a low-energy doom routine that never picks up steam. Despite its apparent variety of influences, The Bleak Picture’s by-the-book approach to death-doom doesn’t always keep my interest.

An album like Shades of Life is difficult to dissect; its success hinges on the heart, not the brain. The Bleak Picture is on the right path, and tracks like “Silent Exit” hit hard with their bulky riffwork and creative variety. But as a whole, Shades of Life isn’t the gut punch I’d hoped for. It doesn’t match the raw power of Paradise Lost, the otherworldly sadness of Enshine, or the narrative prowess of Insomnium. Still, I have no regrets. There are strong whiffs of talent here, and with its mature and tempered approach to songwriting, Shades of Life is an easy, rewarding listen. It’s worth a shot for anyone who prefers moping over sunlight.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Ardua Music
Websites: thebleakpicture.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/thebleakpicture
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#25 #2025 #ArduaMusic #Autumnfall #CultOfLuna #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #DeathDoomMetal #DoomDeath #DoomDeathMetal #DoomMetal #Enshine #FinnishMetal #Gothic #GothicDoom #GothicMetal #GothicRock #Insomnium #Jun25 #Melodeath #MelodeathMetal #MelodicDeathDoom #MelodicDeathMetal #ParadiseLost #Rapture #Review #Reviews #ShadesOfLife #SwallowTheSun #TheBleakPicture

The Bleak Picture – Shades of Life Review

By Maddog

It’s been a draining year. Lacking the mental energy for new music, I’ve subsisted on a diet of ISIS and Fvneral Fvkk. Clouded by the doomy stylings of the latter, I decided to make my return to reviewing with dismal death-doom. Despite releasing their debut just last year, Finland’s The Bleak Picture is a project of members of Autumnfall. That said, these two bands sound worlds apart, as their names betray. Abandoning the blackened scenery of Autumnfall, The Bleak Picture paints a bleak picture with melodic death-doom that reeks of Finland. Channeling the icons of sadboi history, Shades of Life is a flawed but worthwhile slab of morose doom.

You won’t find much innovation here, but The Bleak Picture has learned from the best. Blending harsh vocals and spoken word, doomy plains and deathy mountain ranges, Shades of Life consists of familiar elements. The opener “Plagued by Sorrow” offers the listener zero seconds of respite before launching into a persistent doom riff. Melodic guitar leads steer the album along, stitching the doomy cuts together in a manner that recalls Enshine (“Without the I”). Rather than slowing to a standstill, The Bleak Picture uses Insomnium riffs to push the album along without diluting its sorrow. The guitars (handled by Jussi Hänninen, along with the other instruments) are the core of Shades of Life, but Tero Ruohonen’s vocals broaden its horizons. While he largely dwells in standard harsh territory, Ruohonen’s cleans tinge the album with gothic influences, like the distorted spoken word of “Absolution.” Indeed, sections like the straightforward rock of “Without the I” recall Paradise Lost. However, lest this lengthy description fool you, Shades of Life is largely standard fare.

It feels criminal to listen to Shades of Life on a 90-degree summer day. The Bleak Picture conveys emotion through the sheer enormity of their riffs, burying the listener like an avalanche (“Absolution”). Elsewhere, Shades of Life deftly intersperses these assaults with tranquility, like the transition from an explosive chorus to minimalist bass-led instrumentals on “Plagued by Sorrow.” These strengths reach their apex on the 11-minute spectacle “Silent Exit.” Evoking Swallow the Sun’s Plague of Butterflies, the track progresses through a nightmarish acoustic melody, forceful doom riffs, and girthy bass lines. Cult of Luna-style drumming leads the song into a climactic ending that raises the bar even further. Across these highlights, The Bleak Picture’s sophomore release boasts a mature approach to songwriting.

Shades of Life still struggles to transcend its melodic death-doom formula. The album’s biggest weakness is its monotony. In their quest for chunky riffs, The Bleak Picture tends to overuse ideas, emulating an uninspired version of Rapture (“Code of Ethics”). Even the album’s best pieces sometimes fizzle out, like the abrupt ending of the otherwise-powerful “Absolution.” Similarly, while the penultimate track “Silent Exit” showcases the best of Shades of Life, the closer “City of Ghosts” settles into a low-energy doom routine that never picks up steam. Despite its apparent variety of influences, The Bleak Picture’s by-the-book approach to death-doom doesn’t always keep my interest.

An album like Shades of Life is difficult to dissect; its success hinges on the heart, not the brain. The Bleak Picture is on the right path, and tracks like “Silent Exit” hit hard with their bulky riffwork and creative variety. But as a whole, Shades of Life isn’t the gut punch I’d hoped for. It doesn’t match the raw power of Paradise Lost, the otherworldly sadness of Enshine, or the narrative prowess of Insomnium. Still, I have no regrets. There are strong whiffs of talent here, and with its mature and tempered approach to songwriting, Shades of Life is an easy, rewarding listen. It’s worth a shot for anyone who prefers moping over sunlight.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Ardua Music
Websites: thebleakpicture.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/thebleakpicture
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#25 #2025 #ArduaMusic #Autumnfall #CultOfLuna #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #DeathDoomMetal #DoomDeath #DoomDeathMetal #DoomMetal #Enshine #FinnishMetal #Gothic #GothicDoom #GothicMetal #GothicRock #Insomnium #Jun25 #Melodeath #MelodeathMetal #MelodicDeathDoom #MelodicDeathMetal #ParadiseLost #Rapture #Review #Reviews #ShadesOfLife #SwallowTheSun #TheBleakPicture

Acidsloth – Acidsloth Review

By Thus Spoke

Can you guess what genre Acidsloth plays? Yes, that’s right, it’s thrash! Ok, no, obviously not, it’s stoner doom—what else with a name that’s a portmanteau of a drug and a notoriously slow-moving animal? Kicking1 around since 2021, Kraków’s Acidsloth already have two LPs to their name, but it’s their third that they bestow the honor of being self-titled. The reason is that this time, they’re a “full band” (to use their own terminology), totaling eight(!) musicians, five of whom perform vocals. In this sense, Acidsloth is kind of their debut. With a charmingly against-type depiction of their token animal, and the promise of “Eyehategod-level aggression mixed with Conan’s heaviness and Electric Wizard’s psychedelic weight,” Acidsloth are out to show they mean business.

Acidsloth’s more-is-more approach to vocalists sees them hand the mic to a new player on (almost) every track.2 This is a cool and unique way to inject a bit of flavor into what is an infamously monotonous subgenre, as we swap between the shriekier (Julia Markiewicz, Radosław Bury), hoarser (Jan Gajewski, Mateusz Zborowski) and the growlier (Patryk Kozera) interpretations of the sludge scream. Beyond this, their compositions follow a common trajectory, often beginning with atmospheric, slightly ominous plucking and spending most of their time brooding in distorted sludgy chugs to a sedated beat. It’s certainly solid (in literal density as well as aesthetic quality), and sometimes it’s even slick thanks to some beautifully-timed transitions and an elusive solo. But as a whole, it fails to have the weight it needs to support its posture.

The thing about having different vocalists on different songs is that it’s quite important to be able to hear them well enough to appreciate their individual skills. Unfortunately, Acidsloth’s vocal track is so low in the mix compared to the instrumentation that the shouts and screams are often lost in the fuzz and bang of guitar and bass drum (particularly on “Float” and “Sin”). Given this, you’d hope the riffs would make up for it, but here too, Acidsloth fumble the ball. Outside of two pretty sweet solos (“Hole,” “Puke”) the guitars only hint at interesting melodies with some hanging plucks (“Hole,” “Free,” “Puke,” “Satan”), and interspersed passages of up-or-down-tempo strumming (“Float,” “Satan”). There are little moments of brilliance where it seems Acidsloth finally finish coming up and deliver—brutal, sledgehammer sludge screams (“Float,” “Free”); that solo (“Hole”); groovily-tapping post metal tension (“Free,” “Satan”); moody liquid plucks (“Sin”). But it’s at these times when Acidsloth’s odd compositional habits truly hamstring what strength they gained. Frequently, songs switch gears midway, and then again, and yet manage to reprise the least-interesting elements of monotony; the cool parts not given time to command the space they deserve (“Hole,” “Free,” “Sin,” “Puke”). The worst case is “Free,” which could have Amenra-esque levels of bite and solemnity, if the mid-tier galloping sludge didn’t smother the harrowing howls, and the anticipatory build that interrupts it set the tone instead.

Doom of any kind, and sludge for that matter, is at heart designed to be uncomplicated, but its presence—whether through emotional depth or sheer magnitude—is what makes it powerful. Alternatively, maybe it can just make you feel good with some psychedelically lush soundscapes. Acidsloth has no presence beyond its literal noisiness, and there’s but a glimmer of color in the melodies. The near-inaudibility of the vocalists is made worse by the frequent use of reverb, and what is either multi-tracking or group shouts (their muddiness makes it hard to tell). The music isn’t “boring,” as such, it’s just draining to listen to, as all the best riffs, screams, and good use of rhythm and atmosphere are quite quickly ironed over with a return to the plod and a sheen of humming feedback. One thus ends up walking away with the unfair impression that there’s simply nothing going on in the entire record. Even in active listens, I struggled to cling to the positive vibes.

As a stoner doom album, maybe Acidsloth is standard fare, but I would like to think not. As a sludge album, it fares better, thanks to an emphasis on chunky—albeit mostly dull—riffing and the fact that at least some of the vocalists seem to have promise. Acidsloth are finding their feet as an ensemble, and if they can pool their assets, I think they could make something pretty juicy. Hopefully, they make the move faster than the animal they’re named for.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

#20 #2025 #Acidsloth #Amenra #Conan #CultOfLuna #DoomMetal #ElectricWizard #Eyehategod #Jun25 #PolishMetal #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleases #Sludge #StonerDoom

Acidsloth – Acidsloth Review

By Thus Spoke

Can you guess what genre Acidsloth plays? Yes, that’s right, it’s thrash! Ok, no, obviously not, it’s stoner doom—what else with a name that’s a portmanteau of a drug and a notoriously slow-moving animal? Kicking1 around since 2021, Kraków’s Acidsloth already have two LPs to their name, but it’s their third that they bestow the honor of being self-titled. The reason is that this time, they’re a “full band” (to use their own terminology), totaling eight(!) musicians, five of whom perform vocals. In this sense, Acidsloth is kind of their debut. With a charmingly against-type depiction of their token animal, and the promise of “Eyehategod-level aggression mixed with Conan’s heaviness and Electric Wizard’s psychedelic weight,” Acidsloth are out to show they mean business.

Acidsloth’s more-is-more approach to vocalists sees them hand the mic to a new player on (almost) every track.2 This is a cool and unique way to inject a bit of flavor into what is an infamously monotonous subgenre, as we swap between the shriekier (Julia Markiewicz, Radosław Bury), hoarser (Jan Gajewski, Mateusz Zborowski) and the growlier (Patryk Kozera) interpretations of the sludge scream. Beyond this, their compositions follow a common trajectory, often beginning with atmospheric, slightly ominous plucking and spending most of their time brooding in distorted sludgy chugs to a sedated beat. It’s certainly solid (in literal density as well as aesthetic quality), and sometimes it’s even slick thanks to some beautifully-timed transitions and an elusive solo. But as a whole, it fails to have the weight it needs to support its posture.

The thing about having different vocalists on different songs is that it’s quite important to be able to hear them well enough to appreciate their individual skills. Unfortunately, Acidsloth’s vocal track is so low in the mix compared to the instrumentation that the shouts and screams are often lost in the fuzz and bang of guitar and bass drum (particularly on “Float” and “Sin”). Given this, you’d hope the riffs would make up for it, but here too, Acidsloth fumble the ball. Outside of two pretty sweet solos (“Hole,” “Puke”) the guitars only hint at interesting melodies with some hanging plucks (“Hole,” “Free,” “Puke,” “Satan”), and interspersed passages of up-or-down-tempo strumming (“Float,” “Satan”). There are little moments of brilliance where it seems Acidsloth finally finish coming up and deliver—brutal, sledgehammer sludge screams (“Float,” “Free”); that solo (“Hole”); groovily-tapping post metal tension (“Free,” “Satan”); moody liquid plucks (“Sin”). But it’s at these times when Acidsloth’s odd compositional habits truly hamstring what strength they gained. Frequently, songs switch gears midway, and then again, and yet manage to reprise the least-interesting elements of monotony; the cool parts not given time to command the space they deserve (“Hole,” “Free,” “Sin,” “Puke”). The worst case is “Free,” which could have Amenra-esque levels of bite and solemnity, if the mid-tier galloping sludge didn’t smother the harrowing howls, and the anticipatory build that interrupts it set the tone instead.

Doom of any kind, and sludge for that matter, is at heart designed to be uncomplicated, but its presence—whether through emotional depth or sheer magnitude—is what makes it powerful. Alternatively, maybe it can just make you feel good with some psychedelically lush soundscapes. Acidsloth has no presence beyond its literal noisiness, and there’s but a glimmer of color in the melodies. The near-inaudibility of the vocalists is made worse by the frequent use of reverb, and what is either multi-tracking or group shouts (their muddiness makes it hard to tell). The music isn’t “boring,” as such, it’s just draining to listen to, as all the best riffs, screams, and good use of rhythm and atmosphere are quite quickly ironed over with a return to the plod and a sheen of humming feedback. One thus ends up walking away with the unfair impression that there’s simply nothing going on in the entire record. Even in active listens, I struggled to cling to the positive vibes.

As a stoner doom album, maybe Acidsloth is standard fare, but I would like to think not. As a sludge album, it fares better, thanks to an emphasis on chunky—albeit mostly dull—riffing and the fact that at least some of the vocalists seem to have promise. Acidsloth are finding their feet as an ensemble, and if they can pool their assets, I think they could make something pretty juicy. Hopefully, they make the move faster than the animal they’re named for.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

#20 #2025 #Acidsloth #Amenra #Conan #CultOfLuna #DoomMetal #ElectricWizard #Eyehategod #Jun25 #PolishMetal #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleases #Sludge #StonerDoom

Nad Sylvan – Monumentata Review

By El Cuervo

Nad Sylvan has enjoyed a decade-long stint in my music library and rambling writings at Angry Metal Guy. His “vampire” trilogy (Courting the Widow, The Bride Said No and The Regal Bastard) offers a charming platter of 70s-influenced progressive rock, but I immediately found the twee successor entitled Spiritus Mundi irritating; so I promptly handed off the review to someone else. But the passage of four years – and the exit of the intervening reviewer – sees my return to the musical realms of this bold Swede. Where has his heartfelt muse led him on 2025’s Monumentata?

On first listen, you’d be forgiven for thinking Sylvan had simplified his songwriting. But on subsequent listens, you’d learn that his hand has instead become more subtle and less ‘progressive.’ The songs on Monumentata are shorter, streamlined, and linear, featuring a poppy cadence. But they still draw from a blend of influences, this time encompassing prog and alt rock, fun,k and jazz. And there’s a tangible texture and depth to their compositions. “That’s Not Me” benefits from lively counter-pointing keyboard and guitar melodies, and I love the mini-crescendo from 2:45 on “Monte Carlo Priceless” as Sylvan’s vocals escalate amid the loudening drums and delicate streams of electric guitar. Likewise, “Flowerland” clashes layers of vocal counter-melodies into a climactic finale. It feels like the thinking man’s pop, similar to but nothing like Tears for Fears. Sylvan is proven not just an excellent instrumentalist but an accomplished composer. Monumentata sounds simple on first listen, but there are layers behind that simplicity and the more you listen, the more you hear.

Sylvan ordinarily oozes nerdiness, but here he oozes cool. As much as I love progressive rock, so often it’s overwrought and feels like the product of a significant effort. But on Monumentata, his songwriting has never felt so slick or effortless. Both “Secret Love” and “That’s Not Me” open the record with sharp, crunchy leads, prioritizing The Riff in a way that he hasn’t previously. Even when those riffs morph into something more technical, befitting a writer grounded in prog, they complement the passages they fit into. While swooshing synths and the piano bulk out the songs’ textures, Sylvan focuses here on guitar and vocal melodies. And though his bluesy, nasally voice has always been his signature, prominently layering this at the top of the mix indicates a man completely at ease with himself. The songs still revolve around the recognizably melodramatic stories, but they’re more comfortable and easier to enjoy. It’s the sound of a man with swagger in his stride.

But above all, Monumentata succeeds because it converges around memorable, individualistic songs. Each has a clear style and hook that separates it from the remainder. “Secret Lover” and “That’s Not Me” demonstrate a newfound interest in guitar riffs, while “Monte Carlo Priceless” pursues a beautifully serene tone. Meanwhile, “Wildfire” has a grand chorus and operates as the album’s fulcrum. “Make Somebody Proud” is jazzy. “I’m Stepping Out” is funky. “Monumentata” is exquisitely mournful. Each track has a place in the album’s flow (even if not every song is great; “I’m Stepping Out” is an obvious weakness). Monumentata feels like a return to the variety of Sylvan’s vampire trilogy because while Spiritus Mundi was more tonally steady, it wasn’t as good. The corresponding weakness with this approach is that this record doesn’t always feel very consistent or cohesive. Nonetheless, it remains hard to deny a release that collects good songs.

2025 sees Sylvan hitting a rich vein of form as Monumentata is enjoyably melodic and slickly composed. Though it takes repetition for the hooks to sink in and for the intricate compositions to reveal themselves, the music is so slick that my criticisms easily wash off. It invokes a mild sense of wonder and joy. It’s not a record designed to hit the joy receptors within seconds, but it is a record that generates more joy the more time you spend with it. Experimental rock and pop fans will surely find plenty to enjoy here.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Inside Out Music
Websites: nadsylvan.com | facebook.com/nadsylvan
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#2025 #35 #Jazz #Jun25 #Monumentata #NadSylvan #ProgressiveRock #Review #Reviews #SwedishMetal #TearsForFears

Nad Sylvan – Monumentata Review

By El Cuervo

Nad Sylvan has enjoyed a decade-long stint in my music library and rambling writings at Angry Metal Guy. His “vampire” trilogy (Courting the Widow, The Bride Said No and The Regal Bastard) offers a charming platter of 70s-influenced progressive rock, but I immediately found the twee successor entitled Spiritus Mundi irritating; so I promptly handed off the review to someone else. But the passage of four years – and the exit of the intervening reviewer – sees my return to the musical realms of this bold Swede. Where has his heartfelt muse led him on 2025’s Monumentata?

On first listen, you’d be forgiven for thinking Sylvan had simplified his songwriting. But on subsequent listens, you’d learn that his hand has instead become more subtle and less ‘progressive.’ The songs on Monumentata are shorter, streamlined, and linear, featuring a poppy cadence. But they still draw from a blend of influences, this time encompassing prog and alt rock, fun,k and jazz. And there’s a tangible texture and depth to their compositions. “That’s Not Me” benefits from lively counter-pointing keyboard and guitar melodies, and I love the mini-crescendo from 2:45 on “Monte Carlo Priceless” as Sylvan’s vocals escalate amid the loudening drums and delicate streams of electric guitar. Likewise, “Flowerland” clashes layers of vocal counter-melodies into a climactic finale. It feels like the thinking man’s pop, similar to but nothing like Tears for Fears. Sylvan is proven not just an excellent instrumentalist but an accomplished composer. Monumentata sounds simple on first listen, but there are layers behind that simplicity and the more you listen, the more you hear.

Sylvan ordinarily oozes nerdiness, but here he oozes cool. As much as I love progressive rock, so often it’s overwrought and feels like the product of a significant effort. But on Monumentata, his songwriting has never felt so slick or effortless. Both “Secret Love” and “That’s Not Me” open the record with sharp, crunchy leads, prioritizing The Riff in a way that he hasn’t previously. Even when those riffs morph into something more technical, befitting a writer grounded in prog, they complement the passages they fit into. While swooshing synths and the piano bulk out the songs’ textures, Sylvan focuses here on guitar and vocal melodies. And though his bluesy, nasally voice has always been his signature, prominently layering this at the top of the mix indicates a man completely at ease with himself. The songs still revolve around the recognizably melodramatic stories, but they’re more comfortable and easier to enjoy. It’s the sound of a man with swagger in his stride.

But above all, Monumentata succeeds because it converges around memorable, individualistic songs. Each has a clear style and hook that separates it from the remainder. “Secret Lover” and “That’s Not Me” demonstrate a newfound interest in guitar riffs, while “Monte Carlo Priceless” pursues a beautifully serene tone. Meanwhile, “Wildfire” has a grand chorus and operates as the album’s fulcrum. “Make Somebody Proud” is jazzy. “I’m Stepping Out” is funky. “Monumentata” is exquisitely mournful. Each track has a place in the album’s flow (even if not every song is great; “I’m Stepping Out” is an obvious weakness). Monumentata feels like a return to the variety of Sylvan’s vampire trilogy because while Spiritus Mundi was more tonally steady, it wasn’t as good. The corresponding weakness with this approach is that this record doesn’t always feel very consistent or cohesive. Nonetheless, it remains hard to deny a release that collects good songs.

2025 sees Sylvan hitting a rich vein of form as Monumentata is enjoyably melodic and slickly composed. Though it takes repetition for the hooks to sink in and for the intricate compositions to reveal themselves, the music is so slick that my criticisms easily wash off. It invokes a mild sense of wonder and joy. It’s not a record designed to hit the joy receptors within seconds, but it is a record that generates more joy the more time you spend with it. Experimental rock and pop fans will surely find plenty to enjoy here.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Inside Out Music
Websites: nadsylvan.com | facebook.com/nadsylvan
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#2025 #35 #Jazz #Jun25 #Monumentata #NadSylvan #ProgressiveRock #Review #Reviews #SwedishMetal #TearsForFears

Anfauglir – Akallabêth Review

By Killjoy

How much effort should be required to appreciate a piece of art? The Silmarillion, a posthumous compilation of mythology and historical accounts relating to J. R. R. Tolkien’s timeless fantasy universe, is generally regarded as a more difficult read than its more cohesive and narrative-focused predecessors, The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings.1 Still, the rewards for such dedication are said to be great, and the rich lore also serves as a creative wellspring for many an artist. Anfauglir, an anonymous duo tucked away somewhere in the United States,2 presents its own daunting work of art: a 72-minute symphonic black metal album patterned after Akallabêth, one of the main parts of The Silmarillion chronicling the rise and fall of the island kingdom Númenor. Now, I’m not the most knowledgeable Fela on the AMG staff about deep Tolkien lore, but I will nonetheless endeavor to expound upon the wonders of Akallabêth.

In this case, the term “symphonic” is just as much a descriptor of compositional structure as musical style. Comprising just four monolithic tracks, Akallabêth is arranged like a classical symphony with a black metal coating, an ambitious approach similar to that of Aquilus. Anfauglir’s orchestral compositions are no less elaborate than Aquilus’, however, they are more bombastic and grandiose rather than intimate in order to reflect the lofty source material. Although the guitars serve a secondary function in terms of carrying the melodies, Akallabêth still feels very much like black metal, with plenty of impassioned rasps and intense drumming providing an energy close to Kull or Bal-sagoth. Occasional female operatic vocals (Imago Latens) further enrich the compositions with subtle, ethereal undertones.

Akallabêth breathes and flows as naturally and effortlessly as a river. Though the tracks are immense in length, they are divided into more digestible movements, within which musical motifs and themes help orient the listener over an extended period of time without being over-relied upon. Much of the first half of “The Inevitable Truths of Time” is built around guest Tomas Brandoni’s classical guitar, and I particularly enjoy its interplay with the piano at certain points. In general, the plentiful piano sections serve as both transitions between movements and refreshing respites. The latter proves to be crucial because the surrounding orchestrations are busy; morphing between gorgeous, melodramatic, serene, menacing, triumphant, and a host of other adjectives. Though clearly aiming for cinematic grandeur (especially “Defying the Doom of Men”), they don’t feel ripped out of a movie soundtrack, nor do they feel trite or cheesy. Akallabêth is, in a word, excessive, but in the best possible way.

Akallabêth’s entertainment value is the other factor making its many minutes feel less fatiguing than they ought to. Much of the credit for this goes to the vocalist, Griss, whose snarls and screams drip with emotive inflection. The passionate delivery pulls me into the overarching narrative despite understanding few of the lyrics.3 The vocals also complement the choirs to create some of the more dramatic moments. The main aspect that mildly disrupts immersion is the sterile sound of the drums, which I assume were programmed, albeit with great care and attention to detail. Also, I wish that the guitars took the reins a little more often, especially in the few moments when they start to play an exciting riff that prematurely fizzles out (“The Rise of Númenor,” “Defying the Doom of Men”). Ultimately, though, these are inconsequential quibbles amidst a sea of resplendent and breathtaking music.

It’s been 17 years since Anfauglir’s previous album, and it’s clear that this was time well spent. Akallabêth is a rare case where the long runtime feels intrinsic to its identity rather than a failure to self-edit. Everything is meticulously arranged to make the best use of the allotted time. Further, they condensed a narrative period of over 3,000 years into only 72 minutes, an impressive feat. Akallabêth may seem intimidating at first, but it absolutely deserves to be experienced many times from start to finish. Much like what I’ve heard about The Silmarillion, you’ll get out of Akallabêth what you’re willing to put in, and if any record is worth a large time and attention commitment, it’s this one.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Debemur Morti Productions
Website: anfauglir.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#2025 #40 #Akallabêth #AmericanMetal #Anfauglir #Aquilus #BalSagoth #BlackMetal #DebemurMortiProductions #Jun25 #Kull #Review #Reviews #SymphonicBlackMetal #SymphonicMetal #TolkienMetal

Anfauglir – Akallabêth Review

By Killjoy

How much effort should be required to appreciate a piece of art? The Silmarillion, a posthumous compilation of mythology and historical accounts relating to J. R. R. Tolkien’s timeless fantasy universe, is generally regarded as a more difficult read than its more cohesive and narrative-focused predecessors, The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings.1 Still, the rewards for such dedication are said to be great, and the rich lore also serves as a creative wellspring for many an artist. Anfauglir, an anonymous duo tucked away somewhere in the United States,2 presents its own daunting work of art: a 72-minute symphonic black metal album patterned after Akallabêth, one of the main parts of The Silmarillion chronicling the rise and fall of the island kingdom Númenor. Now, I’m not the most knowledgeable Fela on the AMG staff about deep Tolkien lore, but I will nonetheless endeavor to expound upon the wonders of Akallabêth.

In this case, the term “symphonic” is just as much a descriptor of compositional structure as musical style. Comprising just four monolithic tracks, Akallabêth is arranged like a classical symphony with a black metal coating, an ambitious approach similar to that of Aquilus. Anfauglir’s orchestral compositions are no less elaborate than Aquilus’, however, they are more bombastic and grandiose rather than intimate in order to reflect the lofty source material. Although the guitars serve a secondary function in terms of carrying the melodies, Akallabêth still feels very much like black metal, with plenty of impassioned rasps and intense drumming providing an energy close to Kull or Bal-sagoth. Occasional female operatic vocals (Imago Latens) further enrich the compositions with subtle, ethereal undertones.

Akallabêth breathes and flows as naturally and effortlessly as a river. Though the tracks are immense in length, they are divided into more digestible movements, within which musical motifs and themes help orient the listener over an extended period of time without being over-relied upon. Much of the first half of “The Inevitable Truths of Time” is built around guest Tomas Brandoni’s classical guitar, and I particularly enjoy its interplay with the piano at certain points. In general, the plentiful piano sections serve as both transitions between movements and refreshing respites. The latter proves to be crucial because the surrounding orchestrations are busy; morphing between gorgeous, melodramatic, serene, menacing, triumphant, and a host of other adjectives. Though clearly aiming for cinematic grandeur (especially “Defying the Doom of Men”), they don’t feel ripped out of a movie soundtrack, nor do they feel trite or cheesy. Akallabêth is, in a word, excessive, but in the best possible way.

Akallabêth’s entertainment value is the other factor making its many minutes feel less fatiguing than they ought to. Much of the credit for this goes to the vocalist, Griss, whose snarls and screams drip with emotive inflection. The passionate delivery pulls me into the overarching narrative despite understanding few of the lyrics.3 The vocals also complement the choirs to create some of the more dramatic moments. The main aspect that mildly disrupts immersion is the sterile sound of the drums, which I assume were programmed, albeit with great care and attention to detail. Also, I wish that the guitars took the reins a little more often, especially in the few moments when they start to play an exciting riff that prematurely fizzles out (“The Rise of Númenor,” “Defying the Doom of Men”). Ultimately, though, these are inconsequential quibbles amidst a sea of resplendent and breathtaking music.

It’s been 17 years since Anfauglir’s previous album, and it’s clear that this was time well spent. Akallabêth is a rare case where the long runtime feels intrinsic to its identity rather than a failure to self-edit. Everything is meticulously arranged to make the best use of the allotted time. Further, they condensed a narrative period of over 3,000 years into only 72 minutes, an impressive feat. Akallabêth may seem intimidating at first, but it absolutely deserves to be experienced many times from start to finish. Much like what I’ve heard about The Silmarillion, you’ll get out of Akallabêth what you’re willing to put in, and if any record is worth a large time and attention commitment, it’s this one.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Debemur Morti Productions
Website: anfauglir.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#2025 #40 #Akallabêth #AmericanMetal #Anfauglir #Aquilus #BalSagoth #BlackMetal #DebemurMortiProductions #Jun25 #Kull #Review #Reviews #SymphonicBlackMetal #SymphonicMetal #TolkienMetal

Putridity – Morbid Ataraxia Review

By Alekhines Gun

Formed in the early 2000s, Putridity are an Italian brutal death band. With roots as a solo project by a former member of Obscene Perversion, the outfit grew from a one-man-basement dream into a fully fledged lineup of slowly increasing reputation from infrequent release to release. A decade has passed since the previous full-length Ignominious Atonement, though the recently released Greedy Gory Gluttony EP finds the band with a refreshed but stable lineup and an enhanced taste for lethality. With last year being a stunning time for brutal death of all shapes and sizes, and this year already facing challenges from young bands and veterans alike, do these brutal statesmen have an argument for a place at the top of the beatings heap?

Morbid Ataraxia puts a lot of stock in its hefty production. A spacious tonal palate allows the nonstop battering-ram drumming of Cédric Malebolgia to erupt from underneath the riffs, with heavy emphasis put on snare violation and rapid-fire cymbal interplay. Vocalist Andrea Piro features a fierce guttural that channels the spirit of vintage Analepsy, human and caustic without deteriorating into pure trash compactor indecipherability. The tones of founder Putrid Ciccio and Manuel Lucchini unfortunately drown out bassist Giancarlo Mendo but make up for it in raw punch, straddling a perfect line between just enough treble for progressions to be heard and enough bottom end to sound like driving cement mixers. For an album that hinges on breakneck speed and more blasts than a military training ground, this breadth of clarity allows each savage moment to be present and accounted for with extreme prejudice to the listener.

At its best, Morbid Ataraxia is a precise and clinical display of the “never-ending cyclone of riffs” class of brutal death. Title track “Morbid Ataraxia” features a devastatingly foul plod of a chug while drums erupt with boiling rage underneath. “Overflowing Mortal Smell” manages to make a shuddering groove out of rarely placed halftime (for the tempo) riffage. Add more pinch harmonic-based phrasing than I can count, and time signature changes from measure to measure, and you have a recipe for a dose of relentless assault from cover to cover. The entire album is connected via samples, which range from ambient vocal gurgling and a (possibly unintentional) throwback to a vintage Skinless cut to the far more unsettling. The unexpectedly ambient ebb and flow of the album, with the samples bisecting various tracks and the constant gargling throughout the empty spaces lends Morbid Ataraxia a proper LP vibe, meant to be consumed in one sitting from beginning to end.

However, the worst thing about Morbid Ataraxia is that it’s a precise and clinical display of the “never-ending cyclone of riffs” class of brutal death. An excessive overreliance on pinch harmonics and monochrome snare abuse give the first half of the album a monotonous feeling, where each track feels like it could be substituted into another slot without impacting much of the album’s flow. Putridity traffic heavily in a vintage Deeds of Flesh approach to riff-craft, with moment to moment flowing into itself with little thought of hooks or repetition or accessibility. That’s fine, to a point; certainly big anthemic choruses aren’t what we are here for. But depending entirely on an “everything and the kitchen sink” approach to song craft means you need your individual riffs to actually pack a punch beyond their tone, and here is where the album falls flat. Two songs in, you will have heard every bag of tricks Putridity has to offer; not just the harmonics but limited drum styling, minimal lead flourishes, and speedy grinding chord progressions, all of which are quite lethal in their immediacy but ineffective in retaining attention ’til the back half of the album.

Putridity is a good band, and Morbid Ataraxia is a fine album, but the few highs it has presented have left me wanting more. The production is a delight, and individual performances are certainly top-notch. However, the band fails in overcoming brutal death’s greatest hurdle, which is to be perpetually interesting and not just obscenely heavy. The approach of stitching all the tracks together implies a concept of some sort, and I’d like to see them continue this approach in the future, but with widened wings in the composition department. For now, if you’re still chasing the brutality dragon, Putridity have you covered; just consider the artwork and don’t ask what you’re covered in.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: Album Bandcamp | Official Instagram
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#25 #Analepsy #BrutalDeathMetal #DeedsOfFlesh #ItalianMetal #Jun25 #MorbidAtaraxia #ObscenePerversion #Putridity #Review #Reviews #Skinless #WillowtipRecords

Putridity – Morbid Ataraxia Review

By Alekhines Gun

Formed in the early 2000s, Putridity are an Italian brutal death band. With roots as a solo project by a former member of Obscene Perversion, the outfit grew from a one-man-basement dream into a fully fledged lineup of slowly increasing reputation from infrequent release to release. A decade has passed since the previous full-length Ignominious Atonement, though the recently released Greedy Gory Gluttony EP finds the band with a refreshed but stable lineup and an enhanced taste for lethality. With last year being a stunning time for brutal death of all shapes and sizes, and this year already facing challenges from young bands and veterans alike, do these brutal statesmen have an argument for a place at the top of the beatings heap?

Morbid Ataraxia puts a lot of stock in its hefty production. A spacious tonal palate allows the nonstop battering-ram drumming of Cédric Malebolgia to erupt from underneath the riffs, with heavy emphasis put on snare violation and rapid-fire cymbal interplay. Vocalist Andrea Piro features a fierce guttural that channels the spirit of vintage Analepsy, human and caustic without deteriorating into pure trash compactor indecipherability. The tones of founder Putrid Ciccio and Manuel Lucchini unfortunately drown out bassist Giancarlo Mendo but make up for it in raw punch, straddling a perfect line between just enough treble for progressions to be heard and enough bottom end to sound like driving cement mixers. For an album that hinges on breakneck speed and more blasts than a military training ground, this breadth of clarity allows each savage moment to be present and accounted for with extreme prejudice to the listener.

At its best, Morbid Ataraxia is a precise and clinical display of the “never-ending cyclone of riffs” class of brutal death. Title track “Morbid Ataraxia” features a devastatingly foul plod of a chug while drums erupt with boiling rage underneath. “Overflowing Mortal Smell” manages to make a shuddering groove out of rarely placed halftime (for the tempo) riffage. Add more pinch harmonic-based phrasing than I can count, and time signature changes from measure to measure, and you have a recipe for a dose of relentless assault from cover to cover. The entire album is connected via samples, which range from ambient vocal gurgling and a (possibly unintentional) throwback to a vintage Skinless cut to the far more unsettling. The unexpectedly ambient ebb and flow of the album, with the samples bisecting various tracks and the constant gargling throughout the empty spaces lends Morbid Ataraxia a proper LP vibe, meant to be consumed in one sitting from beginning to end.

However, the worst thing about Morbid Ataraxia is that it’s a precise and clinical display of the “never-ending cyclone of riffs” class of brutal death. An excessive overreliance on pinch harmonics and monochrome snare abuse give the first half of the album a monotonous feeling, where each track feels like it could be substituted into another slot without impacting much of the album’s flow. Putridity traffic heavily in a vintage Deeds of Flesh approach to riff-craft, with moment to moment flowing into itself with little thought of hooks or repetition or accessibility. That’s fine, to a point; certainly big anthemic choruses aren’t what we are here for. But depending entirely on an “everything and the kitchen sink” approach to song craft means you need your individual riffs to actually pack a punch beyond their tone, and here is where the album falls flat. Two songs in, you will have heard every bag of tricks Putridity has to offer; not just the harmonics but limited drum styling, minimal lead flourishes, and speedy grinding chord progressions, all of which are quite lethal in their immediacy but ineffective in retaining attention ’til the back half of the album.

Putridity is a good band, and Morbid Ataraxia is a fine album, but the few highs it has presented have left me wanting more. The production is a delight, and individual performances are certainly top-notch. However, the band fails in overcoming brutal death’s greatest hurdle, which is to be perpetually interesting and not just obscenely heavy. The approach of stitching all the tracks together implies a concept of some sort, and I’d like to see them continue this approach in the future, but with widened wings in the composition department. For now, if you’re still chasing the brutality dragon, Putridity have you covered; just consider the artwork and don’t ask what you’re covered in.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: Album Bandcamp | Official Instagram
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#25 #Analepsy #BrutalDeathMetal #DeedsOfFlesh #ItalianMetal #Jun25 #MorbidAtaraxia #ObscenePerversion #Putridity #Review #Reviews #Skinless #WillowtipRecords

King Witch – III Review

By Owlswald

A great singer can be a game-changer, and Edinburgh doom outfit King Witch is lucky enough to have an exceptional one in Laura Donnelly. Combining the grit of Janis Joplin, the range of Chris Cornell, and the tonality of Ann Wilson (Heart), Donnelly is currently one of the best in the game thanks to her commanding delivery. But there’s no “I” in “band,” and every great singer needs instrumental prowess to back them up. Enter guitarist/producer Jamie Gilchrist and bassist Rory Lee,1 whose earthmoving riffs—rooted in doom, 70s rock and grunge—perfectly augment Donnelly’s gifts. Since hitting the scene in 2015, King Witch has evolved their artistic direction across two full-length albums and two EPs.2 Their 2018 debut, Under the Mountain, impressed one Ferrous Bueller, who underscored the group’s significant potential through strong songwriting and powerful performances. Their 2021 follow-up, Body of Light, then shifted focus, emphasizing dynamics via tempo and mood changes. With III, King Witch aims to combine the best aspects of their previous work and elevate their sound to the next level.

They’ve definitely succeeded. III features top-notch songwriting that highlights King Witch’s strengths. Donnelly dominates, fronting spirited rock anthems (“Digging in the Dirt,” “Suffer in Life”), acoustic ambiance (“Little Witch”), and introspective segments (“Behind the Veil,” “Last Great Wilderness”) with her impressive vibrato and vast range. Gilchrist’s versatility shines through a litany of memorable riffs, effortlessly shaping a Soundgarden of doom, grunge, and classic rock into a cohesive whole. From “Sea of Lies’” lumbering, grungy plods to “Deal with the Devil’s” blues-infused refrains, Gilchrist assembles a sophisticated and magnetic foundation of genre-bending material. Replacing Lyle Brown, session drummer Andrew Scott (Paul Gilbert, Slice the Cake) lays down Sabbathian-sized rhythms that unite with Lee’s driving bass, producing iron-clad tempos which bolster King Witch’s potent attack. Thanks to Gilchrist’s bright production, everything on III is brimming with energy and punch, elevating King Witch’s Candlemassive sound and reinforcing the album’s pervasive quality.

King Witch’s songwriting utilizes conventional structures with a newfound conciseness and maturity. The quartet’s knack for subtly varying tracks—even longer ones—to hold listener interest is a true testament to their skill in crafting memorable musical motifs. Repeat choruses that soar higher than the first (“Sea of Lies”), delicate and somber bridges that provide dynamic contrast to hard-hitting verses (“Last Great Wilderness”) and welcome variations in mood and energy that pull Scott’s and Lee’s performances into focus (“Behind the Veil,” “Swarming Flies”), add fresh dimensions within otherwise predictable verse-chorus frameworks. Simultaneously, these nuanced permutations grant the underlying performances the creative freedom and space to show their mettle while III’s succinct songwriting prevents stagnation. In this context, Gilchrist’s solos stand out and consistently impress, blending virtuosity with extraordinary feel without being too excessive. His blues-rooted phrasing and progressive technicality complement a lively wah tone that fuses III’s song structures together with a myriad of hammers, bends, sweeps, and taps.

Still, Laura Donnelly’s vocals remain the dominant force in King Witch’s music, and her incredibly emotional and powerful delivery makes III a genuine blast to experience. Serving as the band’s flagbearer, her voice is a masterclass in drama, power,r and dynamic control. Her range is off the charts, driving III’s catchy hooks and melodies with full-force belting (“Swarming Flies”), soulful croons (“Deal with the Devil,” “Last Great Wilderness”), and even falsetto (“Sea of Lies”) that glues me to every note. While I could wax poetic for hours about her superb performance on III, her Heartfelt singing atop the unplugged “Little Witch” is particularly noteworthy for its soothing yet chilling soulful presentation.

III is incredibly stout, and I’ve had it on repeat ever since it arrived. Pinpointing genuine flaws is a challenge, though if pressed, closer “Last Great Wilderness” occasionally meanders and “Behind the Veil” concludes rather abruptly. Moreover, the opening of motivational anthem “Diggin in the Dirt” doesn’t quite grip me as hard as its counterparts. These minor quibbles, however, do little to detract from III’s resounding success and the album masterfully fuses King Witch’s past strengths into one of the year’s best records. Great music often transcends labels, and III does exactly that. Buckle up—King Witch has officially arrived, and the future for these Edinburgh rockers is remarkably bright.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Listenable Records
Websites: kingwitchband.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/kingwitch | instagram.com/kingwitchband
Releases Worldwide: June 27, 2025

Show 2 footnotes

1. Lyle Brown, King Witch’s former drummer, departed the band in 2022. ↩
2. Their Worship the Riffs EP comprised two covers: Black Sabbath’s “Children of the Sea” and Metallica’s “The Thing That Should Not Be.” ↩

#2025 #40 #BlackSabbath #Candlemass #DoomMetal #Heart #HeavyMetal #III #JanisJoplin #Jun25 #KingWitch #ListenableRecords #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Soundgarden

King Witch – III Review

By Owlswald

A great singer can be a game-changer, and Edinburgh doom outfit King Witch is lucky enough to have an exceptional one in Laura Donnelly. Combining the grit of Janis Joplin, the range of Chris Cornell, and the tonality of Ann Wilson (Heart), Donnelly is currently one of the best in the game thanks to her commanding delivery. But there’s no “I” in “band,” and every great singer needs instrumental prowess to back them up. Enter guitarist/producer Jamie Gilchrist and bassist Rory Lee,1 whose earthmoving riffs—rooted in doom, 70s rock and grunge—perfectly augment Donnelly’s gifts. Since hitting the scene in 2015, King Witch has evolved their artistic direction across two full-length albums and two EPs.2 Their 2018 debut, Under the Mountain, impressed one Ferrous Bueller, who underscored the group’s significant potential through strong songwriting and powerful performances. Their 2021 follow-up, Body of Light, then shifted focus, emphasizing dynamics via tempo and mood changes. With III, King Witch aims to combine the best aspects of their previous work and elevate their sound to the next level.

They’ve definitely succeeded. III features top-notch songwriting that highlights King Witch’s strengths. Donnelly dominates, fronting spirited rock anthems (“Digging in the Dirt,” “Suffer in Life”), acoustic ambiance (“Little Witch”), and introspective segments (“Behind the Veil,” “Last Great Wilderness”) with her impressive vibrato and vast range. Gilchrist’s versatility shines through a litany of memorable riffs, effortlessly shaping a Soundgarden of doom, grunge, and classic rock into a cohesive whole. From “Sea of Lies’” lumbering, grungy plods to “Deal with the Devil’s” blues-infused refrains, Gilchrist assembles a sophisticated and magnetic foundation of genre-bending material. Replacing Lyle Brown, session drummer Andrew Scott (Paul Gilbert, Slice the Cake) lays down Sabbathian-sized rhythms that unite with Lee’s driving bass, producing iron-clad tempos which bolster King Witch’s potent attack. Thanks to Gilchrist’s bright production, everything on III is brimming with energy and punch, elevating King Witch’s Candlemassive sound and reinforcing the album’s pervasive quality.

King Witch’s songwriting utilizes conventional structures with a newfound conciseness and maturity. The quartet’s knack for subtly varying tracks—even longer ones—to hold listener interest is a true testament to their skill in crafting memorable musical motifs. Repeat choruses that soar higher than the first (“Sea of Lies”), delicate and somber bridges that provide dynamic contrast to hard-hitting verses (“Last Great Wilderness”) and welcome variations in mood and energy that pull Scott’s and Lee’s performances into focus (“Behind the Veil,” “Swarming Flies”), add fresh dimensions within otherwise predictable verse-chorus frameworks. Simultaneously, these nuanced permutations grant the underlying performances the creative freedom and space to show their mettle while III’s succinct songwriting prevents stagnation. In this context, Gilchrist’s solos stand out and consistently impress, blending virtuosity with extraordinary feel without being too excessive. His blues-rooted phrasing and progressive technicality complement a lively wah tone that fuses III’s song structures together with a myriad of hammers, bends, sweeps, and taps.

Still, Laura Donnelly’s vocals remain the dominant force in King Witch’s music, and her incredibly emotional and powerful delivery makes III a genuine blast to experience. Serving as the band’s flagbearer, her voice is a masterclass in drama, power,r and dynamic control. Her range is off the charts, driving III’s catchy hooks and melodies with full-force belting (“Swarming Flies”), soulful croons (“Deal with the Devil,” “Last Great Wilderness”), and even falsetto (“Sea of Lies”) that glues me to every note. While I could wax poetic for hours about her superb performance on III, her Heartfelt singing atop the unplugged “Little Witch” is particularly noteworthy for its soothing yet chilling soulful presentation.

III is incredibly stout, and I’ve had it on repeat ever since it arrived. Pinpointing genuine flaws is a challenge, though if pressed, closer “Last Great Wilderness” occasionally meanders and “Behind the Veil” concludes rather abruptly. Moreover, the opening of motivational anthem “Diggin in the Dirt” doesn’t quite grip me as hard as its counterparts. These minor quibbles, however, do little to detract from III’s resounding success and the album masterfully fuses King Witch’s past strengths into one of the year’s best records. Great music often transcends labels, and III does exactly that. Buckle up—King Witch has officially arrived, and the future for these Edinburgh rockers is remarkably bright.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Listenable Records
Websites: kingwitchband.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/kingwitch | instagram.com/kingwitchband
Releases Worldwide: June 27, 2025

#2025 #40 #BlackSabbath #Candlemass #DoomMetal #Heart #HeavyMetal #III #JanisJoplin #Jun25 #KingWitch #ListenableRecords #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Soundgarden

When the Deadbolt Breaks – In the Glow of the Vatican Fire Review

By ClarkKent

When the Deadbolt Breaks is a name designed to elicit feelings of horror. It could be the mundane horror of needing to shell out cash to replace a busted deadbolt, or the life-and-death horror of the deadbolt snapping while you’re trying to lock out a deadly assailant. This fits with the band’s exploration into unsettling music that evokes psychological horror. In the Glow of the Vatican Fire marks album number seven in the 20-year career of these Connecticut doom-slingers. The Metal Archives reveals a band with a history of cycling through members, and that shows through their shifting sound from album to album. Yet lead songwriter Aaron Lewis has been consistent in his intent to unsettle listeners. For those of you stumbling into this review in search of how to fix a broken deadbolt, prepare instead for a dose of sludge-y horror.

To achieve their core sludge/doom sound, When the Deadbolt Breaks uses fuzzy, trudging guitars and plodding drums. Expect long, drawn-out guitar riffs played at the speed of funeral doom, a la Godthrymm. Aaron Lewis mixes it up, however, by occasionally plucking in a manner reminiscent of Dolven’s acoustic doom or speeding things up with frantic tremolos. The ghostly chanting of Amber Leigh achieves a haunting beauty; she sounds eerily serene as she sings about the coming of death in “The Scythe Will Come.” In The Glow of the Vatican Fire isn’t just another slow, plodding doom record, however. It features lots of tempo shifts. The follow-up to the slower-paced, gentler opening track is a frenzied, chaotic “Deus Vault,” which turns up the dial on the noise and features frenetic drumming from Rob Birkbeck. These tempo shifts are common within songs, switching from breakneck speed to turtle crawl, enhancing their narrative and emotional effects.

In the Glow of the Vatican Fire creates a variety of moods, ranging from hopeful to manic to depressed, thanks to the varied vocal performances of Lewis and Leigh. On “The Deep Well,” the two alternate singing parts, Leigh crooning with a lilting, plaintive voice, while Lewis sounds more pained as he warbles about struggles with depression. Instrumentation is also key in developing mood. When the Deadbolt Breaks frequently builds tension through the use of riffs and drumming that grow in intensity over time, with the tension released in a manic frenzy. Lewis adds to the terror of these instrumental outbursts with menacing, violent growls (“The Deep Well”). Not all choices work equally well. Some songs feature vocal texturing that’s meant, perhaps, to be jarring (“The Scythe Will Come,” “Burning Zozobro”), but it instead serves as a distraction from the story, the same way bad CGI can ruin a movie.

Whenever an album surpasses the hour mark, it can be difficult to justify all of the choices that go into the songwriting. In the Glow of the Vatican Fire consists of eight tracks, half of them over ten minutes long. I enjoyed the long-form songs a little more than the shorter ones because Lewis and company prove to be effective storytellers. However, there are questionable choices made in the name of experimentation. Take “The Chaos of Water” as an example. This tune has some of my favorite and least favorite moments on the record. The opening, thrashy two minutes are tons of fun, and the final four minutes feature Leigh’s best singing. However, the middle portion slows to a crawl while a robotic voice gives a speech over a single, slow riff strumming repeatedly. It kills the narrative on what was otherwise a very compelling song. Sometimes When the Deadbolt Breaks does too much where simpler would be more effective.

I realize that an hour-long sludge record is the true horror for many metal fans. Yet When the Deadbolt Breaks have composed a well-written album that’s worth spending a few hours with. Based on my overview of prior records, In the Glow of the Vatican Fire is also their best. The presence of Leigh is a massive boon. But it’s also clear that Lewis has improved his songwriting acumen. True, he has some work to do in the editing department, but for the most part, the 10+ minute songs earn every second. He proves to be a master of the slow build, and if you have patience, you’ll find the payoff to be rewarding. I hope When the Deadbolt Breaks can return with all members intact and a wiser Lewis penning his tales of existential horror.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #ArgonautaRecords #AvantGarde #Dolven #DoomMetal #Godthrymm #InTheGlowOfTheVaticanFire #Jun25 #Review #Reviews #Sludge #WhenTheDeadboltBreaks

Sodom – The Arsonist Review

By Steel Druhm

Sodom forged a lengthy career for themselves as the bestial goon of the “Big Three” of Germanic thrash, and you could always count on them to scuzz the joint up with caveman shock trooper ugliness.1 I’ve regularly used them as an example of a band that refused to evolve or embrace trends, but they have grown modestly since their thuggish beginnings. Born as a sludgy, proto-blackened thrash outfit way back in 1984, their In the Sign of Evil debut was the nastiest shit to hit my tender teen ears up to that point. Obsessed by Cruelty was only slightly more polished and was still as unpleasant as Doc Grier after a bottle of rotgut whiskey and a fistful of microwave burritos. It wasn’t until 1987s Persecution Mania that Sodom settled into the form they’re best known for, with a punky, thrashy sound that was rough, gritty, and mean. From there, they dropped extreme metal gems like Agent Orange and Tapping the Vein, followed by several less-than-stellar, overly-punkified albums, only to rebound with the mighty thrash classic M-16 and their eponymous 2006 outing. After another downward trending phase, 2020s Genesis XIX felt like a revitalized piece of weaponized excrement and showed that Sodom still had some shit left to kick. 4-plus years later, we get The Arsonist as these battle buzzards stumble into their 4th decade of violent existence. Does the fire still burn as that epic album artwork suggests? Prepare to get sodomized!

After a short, pointless intro, Sodom get the war rolling on “Battle of Harvest Moon,” and it’s exactly what you expect from them after decades in the trenches. It’s caveman thrash with satisfyingly fugly riffs and Tom Angelripper’s trademark rough, raw vocals slathered over the top like napalm jelly on a sucking chest wound. Long-time Sodom guitar hero Frank Blackfire throws down beef-brained riffs and a classic jangled solo, and everything feels right in the warzone. It’s not reinventing the Claymore, but it feels familiar and good enough to make an olde fan smile. The real firepower arrives on lead single “Trigger Discipline,” which is like a throwback to the M-16 era with an extra volatile dose of war-loving insanity that hits like a blockbuster bomb. THIS is the Sodom I love and always want more of. Tom sounds feral and unhinged, and everything is dialed up to 12.7. It even has hints of their 80s pre-black metal sound in Frank’s guitar work (think 80s Bathory). Put this in your mortar tube and smoke it, motherfuckers! “Witchhunter” is a rowdy, rabble-rousing ode to former drummer Chris Witchhunter, who passed away in 1992, and it delivers a satisfying amount of witch hammering excess for their fallen comrade. R.I.P.

Unlike some recent Sodom albums that had stark highs and lows, The Arsonist remains fairly consistent. The back half has a collection of burly throat punchers like “Taphephobia,” “Sane Insanity,” and A.W.T.F.,” with the latter even shoehorning in some ZZ Top-esque guitar bits for shits and giggles. Things are kept urgent and in your face across the album’s runtime, with only “Scavenger” slowing things down to a neanderthal chug-plod, and this works as a change of pace. While “Trigger Discipline” is the clear standout, nothing feels like filler, though “Obliteration Of The Aeons” is somewhat unmemorable compared to its peers. At 48 minutes with all the songs in the 3-4 minute range, The Arsonist doesn’t feel overlong, and the thrashing intensity carries it along in a blitzkrieging fury. I miss the more 80s-centric, extra raw sound they had on Genesis XIX, but everything still sounds appropriately greasy and unkempt here.

Sodom has always been the vehicle for Tom Angelripper to vent his diseased throat, and he sounds in full outbreak mode here, bellowing like a berserk maniac, wandering into death metal-esque antics, and generally sounding like he needs time in a quiet nervous hospital. It’s great to have Frank Blackfire in the Sodom camp again, and his riff chaos is not to be trifled with. Sure, he borrows a fair amount from vintage Slayer, but who doesn’t? His unique ability to blend chaotic thrash energy and stadium-ready solos and harmonies was always the element that put Sodom over the top, and he still has the kovorka. He’s paired well with returning axe-slinger Yorck Segatz, who aids him in his suicide mission to blow the material as high as possible, and some of their solos are fucking bonkers.

After 40 years, Sodom still haven’t stopped dragging their hairy knuckles through the filth, and for that Steel is thankful. Some things just aren’t meant to be pretty or smart, chief among them, these crusty cretins. The Arsonist is on par with Genesis XIX, and a consistently entertaining throwback to their glory days with enough brute firepower to please fans and shellshock unsuspecting newbies. The battle ain’t over, folks. Get your war crimes on.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: SPV/Steamhammer
Websites: sodomized.info | sodomofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/sodomized | instagram.com/sodom_band_official
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#2025 #30 #GenesisXIX #GermanMetal #Jun25 #Review #Reviews #Sodom #SPVSteamhammer #TheArsonist #ThrashMetal

Inhuman Condition – Mind Trap Review

By Tyme

Inhuman Condition has been repping 90s-era Floridian death metal since 2020. Comprised of former Massacre members Jeramie Kling, Taylor Nordberg, and Terry Butler, Inhuman Condition‘s debut, Rat°God, was the best thing Massacre never recorded post From Beyond, garnering a 3.5 from our overlord and hater of over raters, Steel. Presumably rushed was 2022’s sophomore effort, Fearsick, which saw Inhuman Condition take a step backward despite sporting additional guitar appearances from Rick Rozz himself. With a freshly gory, revamped logo by Mark Riddick adorning yet another beautiful cover by Dan Goldsworthy,1 Inhuman Condition returns with its third offering, Mind Trap. Will this outing see Inhuman Condition walk a path of redemption and assume its own identity, or will it stumble again and continue suffering Massacre‘s curse of ever-diminishing relevance?

Eschewing technicality and bouts of blistering speed, Inhuman Condition remain flagbearers of groovily mid-paced, thrashy death metal. Having simmered for a few years, however, Mind Trap feels fully cooked, more akin to Rat°God than Fearsick as Inhuman Condition further distance themselves from overt Massacre clone-ialism. Suffused with a renewed sense of immediacy, Nordberg’s re-energized guitar work features plenty of Rozz dives into the whammy pool (“Severely Lifeless,” “GodShip”), as well as serpentine solos and a multitude of chuggy-chunk riffs (“Chaos Engine,” “Obscurer”). His Royal Bassist, Terry Butler, continues to lay down a fat-bottomed low end that adds weight to Nordberg’s muscular machinations and hangs meatily on the hooks of Kling’s pounderous drumming, whose vocals, too, hit that brutal yet discernible sweet spot. For Inhuman Condition, simple is as simple does, and though Mind Trap adheres smashingly to the groovy, cavemanic formula perpetuated by the likes of Six Feet Under and Jungle Rot, it’s got the legs to outrun the pack.

Mind Trap‘s thirty-one-minute runtime whisks you along faster than an In-N-Out Burger drive-thru and is full of bite-size death metal bits, most of them sirloin, but some filet mignon. One such morsel, lyrically penned by Cannibal Corpse‘s Paul Mazurkiewicz,2 and an album highlight, “Face for Later” is a viscerally speedy and satisfying death metal romp with up-tempo riffs, crazed solo work, and a chorus that will earworm its way in and haunt your corrupted brain. Also of note are the grower, not show-er riffs and quirky tempos of “The Betterment Plan,” which improved for me with repeated listens, and the mildly atmospheric “Recollections of the Future,” sporting a “King Con”-ic intro and guest vocals from Jonas Kjellgren (Carnal Forge, Scar Symmetry). Intact since inception, this stalwart lineup has defied its Massacred beginnings through sustained continuity. Mind Trap reflects an Inhuman Condition stepping further into their own, and more importantly, back in a positive direction.

Inhuman Condition once again took up arms and recorded at Smoke & Mirrors Productions, with Kling’s mix and Nordberg’s master suffusing Mind Trap in a rich warmth that gives every meaty riff, beefy bass line, and brawny beat the space needed to thrive. Yet, even excellent production cannot overcome limp songwriting, and not all the tracks on Mind Trap stand out. With its doomy, Sabbathian trilled intro and straightforwardly speedy and boring midsection, “Mind | Tool | Weapon” did nothing to rouse my fist to pump or my head to bob. Then, the awkward riffs and sloppy guitar runs of “Science of Discontent” came across as amateurish and were not only a poor way to conclude the album but also an example of the material’s inferiority.

Unlike Gruesome, who are happy to release quality albums that mimic their influences, Inhuman Condition continues to stitch a unique niche in the tapestry of OSDM and, in doing so, leave their Massacre ties further behind. Mind Trap is a fun, not too serious, attention-deficit-friendly death metal album that further exemplifies Inhuman Conditions growing coalescence. Among this trio’s other projects, of which Obituary (Butler), Deicide (Nordberg), and Goregäng (Nordberg and Kling) are just a few, it seems these guys genuinely enjoy playing together as Inhuman Condition. Mind Trap‘s got plenty to sink your teeth into, and I’m sure songs like “Face for Later” and “Obscurer” will go over well in a live setting. I was glad to hear Inhuman Condition returned to form here, and I would recommend you give Mind Trap a few spins this summer yourself.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records (Europe)
Websites: Bandcamp | InhumanCondition.com | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanDeathMetal #DeathMetal #HighRollerRecords #InhumanCondition #Jun25 #JungleRot #Massacre #MindTrap #Review #SixFeetUnder

Cam Girl – Flesh & Chrome Review

By Kenstrosity

Every once in a blue moon, reviewing a local band—especially a largely DIY band like Asheville, North Carolina’s Cam Girl—comes with a few extra perks. Because of our proximity, I secured promo months in advance in the form of a sick translucent cyan vinyl and a digital mp3, and gleaned additional insight into how this record was made. Having that much more exposure and access to the band by the grace of locality helped contextualize exactly what Cam Girl aspire to be. In this case, the AVL trio1 have a single-minded focus: to become a phenomenon. Hard at work in pursuit of this lofty standard, Cam Girl prepared a sophomore record, Flesh & Chrome, that not only outstrips their debut, Untucked, but also marks a significant propulsion towards their ultimate goal.

Cam Girl isn’t concerned with what musical box they may or may not fit, but rather with crafting unforgettable, addictive songs written specifically to infect your brain—permanently. To that end, Cam Girl pulled out all the stops in songwriting, performance, and production. Flesh & Chrome builds around the infallible backbone of Kozy Kozette’s simple, but wildly effective guitar lines, exuberant riffcraft, and rich harmonies. Topping that rock-hard instrumental foundation, Lily Larceny’s vocal performance demonstrates a remarkable uptick in skillset, versatility, cadence, and potency from previous efforts. The rhythm section then sculpts heft and power, allowing Flesh & Chrome access to a greater breadth of audiences. But that’s just the tip. In the same way that notable pop songwriters of the 80s used innuendo and sheer metaphors to subvert most public audiences’ tolerance for the risqué, Cam Girl’s lyrics do the inverse. Unabashedly sexual, confrontational, and unflinching in their simplicity and irreverence on the surface, these lyrics present a multifaceted and timely commentary. Instilling messages of empowerment and self-actualization; dispensing of arbitrarily dictated societal, gender, and sexual roles; and rebuking all forms of misogyny and gender discrimination/fetishization, Flesh & Chrome nonetheless makes no sacrifice to irresistible, kinky fun, and therein lies its magic.

Whether it be the stadium-ready “Bubblegum Revolution,” the sassy “Girls Gotta Eat,” or the one-two-three-four-five punch that lights up an unstoppable run from “I Want Your Rock!” to the awesome self-titled closer, Flesh & Chrome offers an endless supply of killer material and no filler across a tight 32 minutes. In the early stages of Flesh & Chrome’s progression, familiar listeners might recognize a similar cocktail of Turbonegro/Blondie touchstones that Untucked showcased. However, hero anthems “Girls to the Top” and “Bubblegum Revolution” rouse the spirit higher with tighter, more focused writing and invigorating choruses. “Face the Facts” and “Stand Back” use that initial push to load in a rebellious Rise Against spirit with more impactful musical energy and lyrical candor than ever. And how can I forget the organ-soaked “Back Sabbath,” a whimsical bit of devilish levity that bisects the record with a summoning of a powerful ass demon for the expressed purpose of dealing for a bigger ass?2

Whatever actually transpired during that “Back Sabbath” worked wonders for Cam Girl, because Flesh & Chrome’s back half is stunning. Even factoring in the occasional—but thankfully brief—in-your-face spoken word verse3 in “I Want Your Rock!” and “Sugar Rush,” the songs burst with vitality and stick with fierce adhesion. Furthermore, bouncy synths bubbling in the background of these tracks provide a new instrumental element that doubles down on chipped tuneage through yet another chorus hero, “Ice Cream N’ Soda Pop.” Reminiscent of a much more adult Wreck-It Ralph OST, these new instrumental baubles complement Kozy’s increasingly metamorphic riffs, leads, and solos across all manner of references and inspirations. But, in no way do these novel excursions across the frets pull away from Cam Girl’s core sound or unmistakable identity. In fact, they reinforce and elevate it. This, in turn, sets up closing duo “Plastic Princess” and “Flesh & Chrome” to gleam as stellar culminations of every songwriting development Cam Girl exhibits across Flesh & Chrome. Boasting fun lyrics, brilliant guitar work,4 and spine-tingling choruses featuring some of Lily’s finest exhibitions yet, these B-sides demand my undivided attention so raptly that I fantasize about listening to them again, even before they end.

There’s so much more about Flesh & Chrome that I desperately want to highlight in greater detail. Lily’s bang-on Agnete Kirkevaag (Madder Mortem) vocal tone when she sings more melodic phrases; bassist Robbie Forbes’ throbbing low end counterpoint; Kozy’s sneaky Iron Maiden gallops, and her cool artwork and layout;5 Matt Langston’s and Jeremy SH Griffith’s punchy production;6 I could go on. And yet, it still feels like Cam Girl is only getting started. If their goal is to become a phenomenon, Flesh & Chrome makes for one helluva launch!

Rating: Excellent!
DR: 5 (Digital mp3) | Formats Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3 | Physical Vinyl
Label: Self Released
Websites: camgirlband.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/camgirlband
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Blondie #CamGirl #FleshChrome #HardRock #HeavyMetal #IronMaiden #Jun25 #MadderMortem #MelodicMetal #PopPunk #Punk #Review #Reviews #RiseAgainst #SelfReleased #Turbonegro

Darkyra – Life Force Review

By ClarkKent

Sometimes life takes you to unexpected places. Gina Bafile, who dubbed herself Darkyra Black and founded the band Darkyra, saw her dreams become reality with the release of two albums in 2014 and 2015. Her band started touring in her hometown of Australia shortly thereafter, and apparently, her shows were popular enough to make plans to take them to Europe. Unfortunately, life took a turn for Bafile. In 2016, she was diagnosed with breast cancer and had to take an indefinite break from her music. Now, nearly 10 years later, Bafile is back at it with the release of her third Darkyra album, Life Force. It’s amazing what modern medicine and the human spirit can accomplish. Through perseverance, Bafile survived a cancer scare, and again through perseverance, she has rekindled her dream and put forth an ambitious record. That in itself is a worthy success story.

The most succinct way to describe the genre of Life Force is standard rock-and-roll with some extra frills. Like many hard rock songs, Darkyra hooks you early with some nice melodies, but then switches to standard rock riffs as rhythm to accompany Bafile’s voice. Synths add some extra personality: on “One Foot in the Grave,” they provide an eerie, gothic atmosphere, while on “Leap Before You Die,” they perform some nice solos. The piano also plays an important role, providing the main source of instrumentation on “Tomorrow Without You” and serving a supporting role on other tracks like “Quiet the Mind.” Pop/rock songs like these live and die by the chorus, and Life Force has some catchy ones. Most tunes follow the traditional pop structure of repeating the chorus once or twice, but a few instead build up to a big chorus in the finale.

Spend enough time with Life Force and you’ll find that there is plenty to appreciate. Surprisingly, the biggest standout is the bassist, Lucio Manca. On songs like “Life Force” and “Quiet the Mind,” his bass absolutely slaps. He steals the show with his grooves, and I wish he had a more prominent role. I know a certain bass-loving Dolphin who would salivate to hear Manca play, and thanks to the crisp production values, his bass clearly stands out. While there are several songs that stand above the pack, such as “Quiet the Mind,” which has a killer chorus, “Celebrity Smile” is the one that I wish Darkyra had used as a model for the rest. 1 It’s the only true symphonic track on Life Force, and when those string instruments and choral chants accompany Bafile’s voice on the chorus, I can’t help but imagine how great this album could have been had Darkyra done more of this.

Life Force unfortunately, suffers from some inconsistencies. Bafile has a strong voice, but at times the songs put too much pressure on her larynx. For example, when she reaches for a higher register on the chorus of “All in Good Time,” her voice strains and grows pitchy. Darkyra also opts for some odd vocal choices, such as a sassy-talk section (“All in Good Time”), some Darth Vader-like whispers (“Quiet the Mind”), and a moment where I confused her for a nasally Gwen Stefani (“Tomorrow Without You”). These moments aren’t the only weaknesses, though. For one, the guitars are pretty bland, often disappearing into the background. Some of the lyrics are questionable as well, such as when Bafile redundantly sings, “You’ve gotta leap before you die / Leap while you’re alive.” Probably the biggest offender is the penultimate tune, “Tested the Water,” which feels completely phoned in and out of tune.

What Bafile has done with Life Force–create an ambitious work of art after life threw a wrench her way–is an inspiration. No matter what I write in these paragraphs, that in itself is a success. And the album is pretty enjoyable. Yes, it has its warts and blemishes, like any record, but I still find myself giddily singing aloud “You’ve gotta leap before you die” and swaying to the violins of “Celebrity Smile” as they replay in my head. I hope next time around, Bafile plays to Darkyra’s strengths more consistently. Bafile and her team have good instincts for creating musical arrangements with strings, piano, and that bass. I look forward to hearing what she does next.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Battlegod Productions
Websites: darkyra.com | darkyrablack.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: June 13th, 2025

#25 #2025 #AustralianMetal #BattlegodProductions #Darkyra #GothicMetal #GwenStefani #HardRock #Jun25 #LifeForce #Productions #Review #Reviews #SymphonicMetal

Fallujah – Xenotaph Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Whatever mood suits you—perhaps none at all if you prefer deathly excursions of the older and fetid variety—Fallujah’s alien guitar identity consistently earns them a notch on the altar atop many a post-The Faceless tech death connoisseur’s mantle. Yet, the path that Fallujah walks has not always been one of extreme innovation. Rather, in spindly idiosyncrasies and heavyweight melodic ripples, the California riffslingers have whipped their way from roots in crushing yet entrancing death metal (The Harvest Wombs, The Flesh Prevails), through increasing gazey atmospherics (Dreamless, Undying Light), and into a flexed, teched out expression of all their past lives (Empyrean). And in that same vein of iterative development within a crystallizing, whammy-fluid style, Xenotaph looks to enrich the treble palate of a wanting audience.

Taking pleasure in the brighter vibrations of an extended-range string supply, founding guitarist Scott Carstairs, in closed-eye bends and chord quivers, defines the breathy ambience of Fallujah’s jittery developments. Not world’s away from 2023’s Empyrean, Xenotaph finds a harmonic shell in lush guitar layers that skirt the line between deep atmosphere and technical bounce. And breezing through with a trim song set that navigates a bevy of Cynic-coded trickling riffage (“Labyrinth of Stone,” “The Crystalline Veil”) and kick-saturated sprints (“Kaleidoscopic Waves,” “Xenotaph”) alike, Fallujah weaves a through line of sticky guitar candy. Returning vocalist Kyle Schaefer continues to be a chameleonic—if polarizing to the oldest fans—presence that stitches with aggressive, pitched yells, towering, gruff barks, and glistening, melodic core cleans, allowing Xenotaph to saunter down a familiar but kindly bent road.

In turn, guitar pyrotechnics come stock in the Fallujah package. Carstairs and new recruit Sam Mooradian (Inhale Existence) use their fiery and slippery talents to skew Xenotaph toward flypaper melodies and crunchy atmosphere rather than directionless, shreddy excess. Whether at the twinkle of gentle reverb on clean drives (“In Stars We Drown,” “A Parasitic Dream,” “The Obsidian Architect”), dancing play of panning refrains (“Kaleidoscopic Waves,” “Step…,” “Xenotaph”), or furious tremolo-bouncing riffage, this well-practiced duo makes every stutter-loaded passage feel buttery. In response, the inherent wandering nature of a soundscape that threatens the relaxing alien jazz of a Holdsworth1 finds a grounded landing in Thordendal (Meshuggah, Fredrik Thordendal‘s Special Defects) solo bleating (“Xenotaph”) and the kind of staccato The Faceless riffage that has defined a generation of low-gain, techy endeavors. In a slight step back on the production front, Xenotaph sees bass virtuoso Evan Brewer (Entheos,2 ex-Animosity) relegated to popping backing on skronky chord stabs, muffled boom alongside pitter-patter kick, and light rumble accent. The Otero compression method does succeed, though, in ensuring that each and every guitar passage cuts and twirls and dives with all the precision required to bore deep into a tablature-gawking mind.

Even if some tones find too much restraint, the endless and lush guitar layers that scaffold Xenotaph add to a rewarding, repeatable listen. While Fallujah hasn’t ever dabbled fully in the concept album world, recurring melodies flicker and warp and recontextualize throughout, tying tight pseudo-suites between Xenotaph’s strongest moments (“Labyrinth…” through “Step…,” “A Parasitic Dream” through “Xenotaph”). With this kind of blended and moment-blurry track timeline, though, placing an exact finger on the pulse that penetrates through to memory can be tough. It’s easy to get stuck in which rapid fire kick run3 was it that built tension before a wild solo, or which bent and wobbled dreamy lead carried that choppy riff to another choppy riff or which breakaway melodic chorus punched away to a meditative bridge. But Fallujah revels in extreme detail—the choral recollection that both opens and closes Xenotaph in loop, the chewiest melodic chorus this side of peak Tesseract (“The Crystalline Veil”), the flippant vocal modulations that run wild (“Labyrinth…, “The Obsidian Architect”). In novel pleasantries, Xenotaph finds a comfortable and developmental home.

Fallujah wears a collected calm and fun that can be hard for a veteran tech act to maintain. In Carstairs’ unique and effortless play—the backbone of all this act’s modern efforts—high note count riffage and solos find space to expand and nestle, and flourish. And in his reliable supporting cast, one seemingly cultivated of friendship, Xenotaph follows that same sentiment despite seeing Fallujah again fall into modern production stylings that raise more philosophical sound debate than I’d prefer. But if these are the kinds of questions Fallujah has to ask of their sound to keep growing, I’m content to bear witness to the fruits of their particular brand of floating and flamboyant internal dialogue.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast | Bandcamp
Websites: fallujah.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/fallujahofficial
Releases Worldwide: June 13th, 20254

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #AtmosphericDeathMetal #Cynic #Entheos #Fallujah #Jun25 #Meshuggah #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetalcore #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #VvonDogmaI #Xenotaph

THRÆDS – Impermanence Review

By Owlswald

Adding to my list of bands with irregular monikers, German progressive post-metal/rock group THRÆDS (pronounced “Threads”) is the latest to fall under the scrutiny of my wide-eyed gaze. Formed in 2019 as a solo project by guitarist Angelos Tzamtzis, THRÆDS has since grown into a multi-national five-piece.1 Their 2021 Akasha EP garnered the attention of Octopus Rising—an imprint of Argonauta Records—which is now releasing their debut full-length, Impermanence. The promotional material for this Berlin-based quintet bills itself as a seamless blend of progressive post-metal alongside atmospheric rock, claiming to fuse the sounds of giants like Gojira, Tool, and Porcupine Tree into a diverse and unique style. Call me cynical, but whenever descriptions throw about such high-caliber names, the reality seldom matches the hype. And, unfortunately, THRÆDS proves to be no exception.

A pervasive sense of familiarity permeates Impermanence’s forty-eight minutes. While “Devolve” delivers a half-time L’Enfant Sauvage stomp with Gojira’s trademark pitch shifts and tracks like “Einstein-Rosen Bridge” and “Clockworks” evoke some of the moody melancholia of Porcupine Tree or Katatonia, THRÆDS ultimately leans too heavily on well-trodden modern rock crutches to convey their moods and textures. As a result, the material on Impermanence is largely standard and unremarkable, offering little in the way of presence or impact. Chuggy palm-muted guitar riffs, delay-heavy arpeggios and gallant distorted chord strumming drive Impermanence during its drawn-out instrumental sections. Celso Borralho’s vocals dither between solemn whines (“Sole Survivor”), gravelly Chester Bennington-esque frys (“Reflections”), and high, soulful croons (“Nothing Good to Say”). While these hint at Borralho’s considerable range, they generally also fall short of his full potential. Despite the self-produced effort registering a mighty DR 10 and Barnabás Mihály’s playful basslines providing some much-needed aptitude, Impermanence exhibits a vanilla disposition with little novelty or energy.

THRÆDS relies on familiar modern rock clichés to drive their songwriting. Rock anthem “Reflections,” with its big, sing-along chorus and radio-ready polish is well-composed but employs repetitive chord progressions and melodic structures a myriad of modern rock groups have used a million times over. Similarly, “Sole Survivor” and “Timeless” lack novelty with formulaic compositions that contrast quiet, delay-saturated post-rock verses with heavier down-tuned choruses filled with garden-variety guitar riffs, foundational rock beats, and cornerstone vocal belting. Borralho frequently toys between his high and low registers, sounding unassured and whiny rather than passionate and introspective as his voice warbles above the melodies. His range and high register are his greatest strengths, yet he seldom leans into them with enough conviction to improve THRÆDS’ simplistic approach. Compounding matters is the sheer length of Impermanence’s songs as “Devolve,” “Timeless,” and “Reflections” all clear six minutes while closer “Story in Reverse” pushes eight, primarily to accommodate Alegros Gramma’s sax solo. Even the shorter “Einstein-Rosen Bridge” contributes to Impermanence’s sense of bloat, stretching thin ideas into wandering Maserati-like post-rock.

Predictably, Impermanence’s stronger moments appear when THRÆDS trim the fat and venture outside of well-trodden tropes. A prime example is the solemn “Nothing Good to Say,” where the quintet crafts a condensed, cohesive, and engaging offering with Borralho’s high, soulful croons floating above playful drum and bass grooves, all enveloped by an eerie, atmospheric feel. Mihály’s bass performance is noteworthy, driving a deep pocket with his rhythmic pulses while capably utilizing space with high-scale runs that explore the full range of his fretboard. Likewise, the chorus in “Story in Reverse” and the verse in “Einstein-Rosen Bridge” point to a more favorable stylistic direction, as THRÆDS momentarily recalls the grunge-saturated sounds of Alice in Chains amid stretches of otherwise tedious material.

From start to finish, Impermanence struggles to find its footing, delivering an unremarkable collection of songs that is more often bland and forgettable than original and engaging. Displaying brief flashes of promise, THRÆDS defaults to the comfort of well-worn rock sounds, resulting in an overly long debut that lacks the confidence one would expect from a group aspiring to stand alongside the giants it name-drops. Ultimately, Impermanence rings hollow, forcing progressive and post-metal fans to look elsewhere for novelty and imagination.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: thraeds.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/threads.project | instagram.com/thraeds.band/
Releases Worldwide: June 6, 2025

Show 1 footnote

1. Members originate from Chile, Greece, Hungary, New Zealand, and Portugal. ↩

#20 #2025 #AliceInChains #ArgonautaRecords #GermanMetal #Gojira #HardRock #impermanence #Jun25 #Katatonia #Maserati #MelodicMetal #OctopusRisingRecords #PorcupineTree #PostMetal #ProgressiveRock #Review #Reviews #Rock #THRÆDS #Tool

THRÆDS – Impermanence Review

By Owlswald

Adding to my list of bands with irregular monikers, German progressive post-metal/rock group THRÆDS (pronounced “Threads”) is the latest to fall under the scrutiny of my wide-eyed gaze. Formed in 2019 as a solo project by guitarist Angelos Tzamtzis, THRÆDS has since grown into a multi-national five-piece.1 Their 2021 Akasha EP garnered the attention of Octopus Rising—an imprint of Argonauta Records—which is now releasing their debut full-length, Impermanence. The promotional material for this Berlin-based quintet bills itself as a seamless blend of progressive post-metal alongside atmospheric rock, claiming to fuse the sounds of giants like Gojira, Tool, and Porcupine Tree into a diverse and unique style. Call me cynical, but whenever descriptions throw about such high-caliber names, the reality seldom matches the hype. And, unfortunately, THRÆDS proves to be no exception.

A pervasive sense of familiarity permeates Impermanence’s forty-eight minutes. While “Devolve” delivers a half-time L’Enfant Sauvage stomp with Gojira’s trademark pitch shifts and tracks like “Einstein-Rosen Bridge” and “Clockworks” evoke some of the moody melancholia of Porcupine Tree or Katatonia, THRÆDS ultimately leans too heavily on well-trodden modern rock crutches to convey their moods and textures. As a result, the material on Impermanence is largely standard and unremarkable, offering little in the way of presence or impact. Chuggy palm-muted guitar riffs, delay-heavy arpeggios and gallant distorted chord strumming drive Impermanence during its drawn-out instrumental sections. Celso Borralho’s vocals dither between solemn whines (“Sole Survivor”), gravelly Chester Bennington-esque frys (“Reflections”), and high, soulful croons (“Nothing Good to Say”). While these hint at Borralho’s considerable range, they generally also fall short of his full potential. Despite the self-produced effort registering a mighty DR 10 and Barnabás Mihály’s playful basslines providing some much-needed aptitude, Impermanence exhibits a vanilla disposition with little novelty or energy.

THRÆDS relies on familiar modern rock clichés to drive their songwriting. Rock anthem “Reflections,” with its big, sing-along chorus and radio-ready polish is well-composed but employs repetitive chord progressions and melodic structures a myriad of modern rock groups have used a million times over. Similarly, “Sole Survivor” and “Timeless” lack novelty with formulaic compositions that contrast quiet, delay-saturated post-rock verses with heavier down-tuned choruses filled with garden-variety guitar riffs, foundational rock beats, and cornerstone vocal belting. Borralho frequently toys between his high and low registers, sounding unassured and whiny rather than passionate and introspective as his voice warbles above the melodies. His range and high register are his greatest strengths, yet he seldom leans into them with enough conviction to improve THRÆDS’ simplistic approach. Compounding matters is the sheer length of Impermanence’s songs as “Devolve,” “Timeless,” and “Reflections” all clear six minutes while closer “Story in Reverse” pushes eight, primarily to accommodate Alegros Gramma’s sax solo. Even the shorter “Einstein-Rosen Bridge” contributes to Impermanence’s sense of bloat, stretching thin ideas into wandering Maserati-like post-rock.

Predictably, Impermanence’s stronger moments appear when THRÆDS trim the fat and venture outside of well-trodden tropes. A prime example is the solemn “Nothing Good to Say,” where the quintet crafts a condensed, cohesive, and engaging offering with Borralho’s high, soulful croons floating above playful drum and bass grooves, all enveloped by an eerie, atmospheric feel. Mihály’s bass performance is noteworthy, driving a deep pocket with his rhythmic pulses while capably utilizing space with high-scale runs that explore the full range of his fretboard. Likewise, the chorus in “Story in Reverse” and the verse in “Einstein-Rosen Bridge” point to a more favorable stylistic direction, as THRÆDS momentarily recalls the grunge-saturated sounds of Alice in Chains amid stretches of otherwise tedious material.

From start to finish, Impermanence struggles to find its footing, delivering an unremarkable collection of songs that is more often bland and forgettable than original and engaging. Displaying brief flashes of promise, THRÆDS defaults to the comfort of well-worn rock sounds, resulting in an overly long debut that lacks the confidence one would expect from a group aspiring to stand alongside the giants it name-drops. Ultimately, Impermanence rings hollow, forcing progressive and post-metal fans to look elsewhere for novelty and imagination.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: thraeds.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/threads.project | instagram.com/thraeds.band/
Releases Worldwide: June 6, 2025

#20 #2025 #AliceInChains #ArgonautaRecords #GermanMetal #Gojira #HardRock #impermanence #Jun25 #Katatonia #Maserati #MelodicMetal #OctopusRisingRecords #PorcupineTree #PostMetal #ProgressiveRock #Review #Reviews #Rock #THRÆDS #Tool

Lucille – Dawn of Destruction Review

By Tyme

I might not have four hungry children and a crop in the field, but what I do have is the debut album from Polish thrashers Lucille. So don’t leave just yet, dear readers; you’ve picked a fine time to join me. Formed in 2017, Lucille spent a considerable amount of time gigging the underground circuit while writing and refining their message, which would form the basis of their 2021 EP, Too Proud to Beg for Mercy, which caught the attention of Dying Victims Productions. Upon solidifying themselves as a quartet, with a love for 80’s thrash and Negan’s barbed wire-wrapped baseball bat in their hearts, Lucille set out to put together the pieces for their debut album, Dawn of Destruction. Will Lucille succeed at expanding the up-and-coming thrash culture in a Polish metal scene dominated by black, death, and Sexmag metal, or should the uprising be squashed with one swift blow to the head?

With a cover evoking Sodom, Dawn of Destruction embodies the 80s-era thrashthetic. Clad in the standard-issue uniform of black leather, bullet belts, boots, and battle vests, Lucille looks the part, and the music is as you’d expect. Downpicked riffs come fast and furious, courtesy of Ramone and K. Dragunov, whose dueling solo work is reminiscent of those classic King/Hanneman battles; the two tearing through this homage to the golden age of thrash with reckless abandon. Foundationally anchored by Matthew’s ever-present, hulking bass lines and Jugen’s traffic-controlling drum work, Lucille presents an above-average grasp of what it takes to recreate the chaotic energy inherent to the early works of Slayer, Megadeth, and Kreator, and more importantly, the chops to execute their vision.

Remnants of Lucille‘s influences inhabit much of Dawn of Destruction. As if swept up from the cutting room floor of the So Far, So Good… So What! sessions, the one-and-a-half minute album opener “Desolate Winds” blows through its superfluous existence before settling into “Brand New World,” a Megadethian tribute full of Mustaine-ic riffs and leads. Likewise is the album title track, “Dawn of Destruction,” with its faux Show No Mercy vibes, or the Pleasure to Killish riffs and speeds of “Genetic Curse,” a reflection of the raw thrash heart Lucille so unapologetically wears on their leathered-up sleeves. A fifth integral component here is Aleksander Hybś’ mix and master, which perfectly captures the rawness of the 80’s thrash movement but manages to wrap it in a modern production that gives the sonic space necessary for the instrumentation to thrive, an element largely missing from albums recorded during the target period. Dawn of Destruction swirls in the past instead of forging a new future but does so with a level of talent that warrants notice.

Much of the make-or-break decision for those listening to Lucille will hinge on the tolerance level for Ramone’s vocal approach. A mix of Kreator‘s Mille Petrozza and Destruction‘s Schmier, Ramone snarls, sneers, and growls his way through Dawn of Destruction‘s nearly 43 minutes, punctuating the performance with plenty of high-pitched screams. I wasn’t particularly bothered by it—there were a few times it distracted—as there’s an unhinged element to his delivery that imparts some nostalgic charm. Still, I could see it being a problem for some listeners. The mercury of modern thrash, however, is definitely in retrograde, as there are few bands truly pushing the thrash envelope in an attempt to create a new space for the genre to thrive and exist. There are so many bands continuing to cash the checks written by forebears as part of the ongoing retro movement that many albums, like Lucille‘s Dawn of Destruction, are as a drop of water in a vast sea of similarity.

Musically tight and capably equipped, Lucille is a young thrash band with enough talent to set themselves apart in an ocean of also-rans, if only slightly. Dawn of Destruction, despite doing nothing to move the genre forward, is more than just a throwaway retread of a bygone era. It’s a legitimate tip of the cap to a time in metal history that saw some of metal’s most influential bands emerge and flourish, a six-pack on a summery Saturday choice for a good time, but not much more. I enjoyed my time with Dawn of Destruction and am anxious to hear what Lucille does next. I’m hopeful they’ll continue to carve out a sound of their own, swinging for the fences with that barbed-wire bat.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 12 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 20, 2025

#2025 #30 #DawnOfDestruction #Destruction #DyingVictimsProductions #Jun25 #Kreator #Lucille #Megadeth #PolishMetal #Review #Slayer #SpeedMetal #ThrashMetal

Hiroe – Wield Review

By Killjoy

Despite the importance that many metal and rock subgenres place on instrumentation, music without vocals often proves a tough nut to crack. Without the inherent structure that generally comes from writing vocal lines or the unique individuality of a human voice, it’s difficult to grab—much less keep—a listener’s attention. Still, that doesn’t stop a multitude of artists from reaching for a slice of the wordless glory. The latest of these is Hiroe, a newcomer post-rock group from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, releasing their debut full-length Wield (following an EP, Wrought, in 2022). With promotional material describing a diverse, expansive, and epic writing approach, Hiroe is poised to offer a maximalist take on a traditionally minimalist genre.

Wield is indeed diverse, containing many of the various touchstones under the expansive post-rock umbrella. As is typical of instrumental acts, Hiroe principally relies on a three-pronged guitar alliance (Eric Kusanagi, Brian Kong, and Jill Paslier) to construct and embellish the music. On the one hand are serene, luscious melodies designed to ruffle the heartstrings similarly to pg.lost or Caspian. On the other hand are dense post-metal guitar clusters favored by Pelican and Isis. But somewhere in the middle of these two extremes, they reveal progressive inclinations, which is where bassist Jon Seiler and drummer Dan Sagherian shine the most, their knotty rhythms adding depth and complexity.

Hiroe seems indecisive about targeting the heart or the head and misses both. Not completely, of course, and Wield does start off promisingly. “The Calm” opens with a gorgeous, glassy melody that artfully evokes feelings of eagerness as it accumulates layer after layer. But soon these hopes are quite literally crushed by the thick, slow wall of post-metal guitar chords of “Tides.” The wall eventually cracks open and a ringing guitar lead spills forth, but Wield never properly follows through on the lush beauty teed up in the intro track or evokes much of an emotional response from me. Attempts at intellectual stimulation don’t often connect either. “Collider” is the most promising from a technical standpoint, opening with an intricate, swirling guitar melody that dazzles at first but tends to overpower the other instruments as it reoccurs. It rarely feels like the three guitarists and the bassist fully realize the rich, multilayered compositions for which Hiroe is aiming.

However, what most impedes Wield is an imbalance between repetition and progression. Disappointingly, in this regard, Wield is heavily weighted towards the former. There are some genuinely compelling melodies, but they tend to span too many minutes. The record is composed of only six tracks, all of which (save for the intro) are at least seven minutes long, and none warrant their lengthy runtime. To keep things moving along, the more homogeneous songs should have been shortened (“I’ve Been Waiting for You All My Life,” “Dancing at the End of the World”), whereas “Collider” could have been cleanly split into two separate songs. The back half of the album feels particularly listless, the exception being the fuzzy and chunky guitar distortion of “The Crush,” but, again, each passage lingers too long. It may appear unfair or even antithetical to criticize post-rock for repetition, but for a free-form instrumental variation to transcend background music, each individual passage must foster a natural continuity with the next without overstaying its welcome.

Ultimately, Wield proved to be a frustrating experience. I enjoy much of the music during a given moment, but it rarely feels like the constituent elements come together in a satisfying way. Though I can appreciate Hiroe’s attempt to expand the horizons of post-rock and post-metal, this repetitive long-form songwriting strategy is not working for me. Despite the overall tone of this review, I don’t actually dislike Wield, but I’m simply unmoved. That said, die-hard fans of the genre may well find more to enjoy than I did. Each member of Hiroe is a talented musician, and they’ll likely be a force to be reckoned with after maturing as composers.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Pelagic Records
Websites: hiroe.bandcamp.com | hiroemusic.com | facebook.com/hiroemusic
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

#20 #2025 #AmericanMetal #Caspian #Hiroe #InstrumentalMetal #Isis #Jun25 #PelagicRecords #Pelican #pgLost #PostRock #PostMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Wield

Patristic – Catechesis Review

By Thus Spoke

The first eight centuries of the common era were a tumultuous one for Christian theology, played out in the writings of scholars now considered Early Church fathers. The study of this back-and-forth, which eventually resulted in an agreed ‘canon,’ gives Patristic their name. On debut Catechesis, the trio turn to the turbulent and culturally pivotal period that saw the fall of the Roman Empire, and the rise of the once-marginalized religion. The album’s title refers to the practice of Christian instruction imparted upon potential converts—teachings which stemmed from a still-divided root, even as the religion spread and any pretenses to truth conceded to power. This chaos informs Patristic’s music in a way unique to freeform dissonant metal and culminates in a record whose resonance goes beyond the literal echo of its notes.

The seamlessly flowing sermons that comprise Catechesis are both discomfiting and alluring. Churning riffs and undulating waves of percussion, though sinister and often dissonant, mesmerize through hypnotic recurrence, as Patristic sway and lurch between moments of eerie calm, and punishing violence. And the whole evolves gradually through repeated returns to restless drum patterns, and passages of tense atmosphere, cataclysmic blackened-death assaults, and imposing, frightening melody. As with all the best dissonant extreme metal, Catechesis is intense without being totally overwhelming, and beyond this, is haunting in its particular approach to the interplay between spaciousness and crushing density. In this—particularly a disposition towards dark layers of guitar, and a reverberating quality to the vocals (“A Vinculis Soluta II,” “Catechesis I”)—the closest comparison is Verberis,1 though Patristic craft a drama that is very much their own.

Catechesis can and should be seen as one piece; you could say, one instruction, one imparting of sacred knowledge or dogma. Without lyrics, much is hidden, but as the album progresses, one gets the sense of approaching order by means of violence. The grand refrain that first emerges towards the end of “Catechesis II” comes to fruition with yet ominous finality in closer “Catechesis IV,” and this ultimate reprise echoes the subversive creep of themes through Catechesis. The music’s stream allows the ebb and flow of elements to layer, rise, and fade away with grace that borders on predatory, melodies teased in fragmentary glimpses (“A Vinculis Soluta I,” “Catechesis IV”), or their aura turned back from menacing to mournful (“A Vinculis Soluta II” “Catechesis III”). Riffs overlap in uneasy syncopation, hum malevolently, or chime emphatically in a reverberant chorus with rasping and cavernous bellows, and cello2—played in shuddering vibrato3—weaves through the darkness to amplify tension, and eerie beauty (“Vinculis Soluta II,” “Catechesis I,” “Catechesis II”). Driving the whole through union and separation is a current of mesmerizingly fluid and dynamic drumming, which heightens the already portentous atmospheres and pulls you deep into the writhing mass of it all.

The convergence of the many thematic and percussive threads across the album is impressive in its scope and deceptive ease; it is seamless, beautiful, and often frightening. Patristic also achieve the practically unachievable by using spoken word to add powerful gravitas, which increases rather than lessens the song’s impact (“A Vinculis Soluta I,” “A Vinculis Soluta II”). And speaking of impact, the drum performance, courtesy of Sathrath, deserves particular praise for being one of the most insane of its kind I have ever heard.4 It’s impossibly delicate in shivering cymbal taps, lethally fast in split-second rollovers and fills, and ruthless in its sharp, brutal cascades of double-bass. Everything, drums included, is produced perfectly to allow the convulsing lows to reflect and resonate in a cavernous, immersive portal of grinding guitar and bellowing howls, and the stalking highs dip chillingly below and above its surface.

With such immensity, it’s easy to see how Patristic got a signing with Willowtip so soon; I struggle to believe that these musicians have been playing together for less than five years. So arresting is Catechesis, so layered and immersive, that it threatens to overshadow all other extreme metal this year—if not all metal, period. This is a teaching that all acolytes of the dark and dissonant, and hell, maybe even the crucified Lord, need to hear.

Rating: Excellent
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

#2025 #45 #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #Catechesis #DeathMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #ItalianMetal #Jun25 #Patristic #Review #Reviews #Ulcerate #Verberis #WillowtipRecords

Helms Deep – Chasing the Dragon Review

By ClarkKent

Helms Deep made quite a splash with their debut, Treacherous Ways, thanks to their high-energy ode to speed metal acts of the ’70s and ’80s. Now they’re back with a little extra firepower in the form of guitarist Ray DeTone and a more progressive-minded drummer in Hal Aponte (Ice Age). The remaining two players make their return, including bassist John Gallagher, who AMG writers have attempted to lure back into the comments section since his infamous critique of Huck N Roll’s review of Raven’s Metal City. Finally, there’s Helms Deep founder and frontman, Alex Sciortino, whose impressive vocals help propel this project to the next level. On Chasing the Dragon, Sciortino promises a new focus while still maintaining their modern take on old-school thrash and traditional heavy metal.

Initially, Chasing the Dragon doesn’t actually sound all that different from Treacherous Ways. Early Satan and Savatage remain strong influences, and you’ll hear classic Iron Maiden, especially on the galloping “Chasing the Dragon.” Judas Priest makes their presence felt on the chugging opener of “Frozen Solid”, while mid-tempo cuts like “Cursed” have a Ride the Lightning-era Metallica feel to them. These songs have a relentless energy with fast, pounding drums and endless riffs oozing from all three guitarists. There are also some new additions to the already impressive Helms Deep sonic repertoire. You’ll first hear it in the final minutes of “Craze of the Vampire,” when the guitar tone takes on a noticeably spacey, prog-like Pink Floyd hue. This turns out to be no accident, as “Red Planet” also dabbles in psychedelia that features arpeggios so fast and fun they’ll make you want to mix your LSD with speed. Even with these psychedelic tones, Helms Deep still promises speed first.

Chasing the Dragon boasts crystal-clear production, allowing the 12-string guitars ample room to soar. Close listens will reward lovers of guitar riffs, and Helms Deep goes buck wild on most songs. “Craze of the Vampire” is a perfect example of the artful fretwork on display, beginning with classical-sounding tremolos, moving into creative rhythm riffs, and putting the icing on the cake with frantic arpeggios during the chorus. It’s not just the 12-string guitars that steal the show. Gallagher’s groovy bass is also prominent. Just listen to the opening of “Black Sefirot” and feel your heart pumping as Gallagher’s noodling prepares you for combat. Sciortino’s riveting voice will spur you onward to battle fierce space dragons as he switches from gruff to high-pitched on the turn of a dime. My one complaint is the drums. Aponte’s work on the kit comes off a bit more repetitive than Mike Heller’s, who handled drums on Treacherous Ways, and gives some songs the feeling that they’re dragging on at parts.

If there’s anything that prevents Chasing the Dragon from achieving greatness, it’s that Helms Deep has pulled a (minor) Senjutsu. While Holdeneye felt that their prior record was “a tad long” at 50 minutes, this one clocks in at almost an hour. The problem with having not one but two 12-string guitars is that musicians don’t want to waste that firepower, and so they play nonstop, almost aimless solos. A number of tracks, such as “Craze of the Vampire” and “Flight of the Harpy,” include three additional minutes of guitar wizardry after Sciortino sets his microphone aside. When the riffs are consistently so fun, however, this is only a minor setback. I might have still given this the 4.0ldeneye treatment if it weren’t for the finale, “Shiva’s Wrath,” a 7+ minute instrumental that falls short of the glory of the classic Metallica instrumentals. It features some fun riffs, but lacks focus.

Within the belly of this dragon is a great album. I immensely enjoyed my time with Chasing the Dragon, trying my best to sing along with Sciortino’s anthemic choruses. Fans of that old school thrash and NWoBHM sound should definitely give this one a whirl. It has a modern sound that is clearly dedicated to its influences without ripping them off. Sciortino has created a magical project, and I even like the moments of experimental psychedelia he infused in some songs. I will be revisiting this one throughout the year, and I’d probably be considering it for my year-end list if it were more tightly edited. If Helms Deep can combine their balls-to-the-wall energy with some discipline, their next album could be a monster.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nameless Grave Records
Websites: helmsdeep666.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/helmsdeep666
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #ChasingTheDragon #HeavyMetal #HelmsDeep #IceAge #JudasPriest #Jun25 #Metallica #NamelessGraveRecords #NWOBHM #PinkFloyd #PowerMetal #Raven #Review #Reviews #Satan #Savatage #SpeedMetal

Cryptopsy – An Insatiable Violence Review

By Alekhines Gun

We all know the score for Cryptopsy by now. It’s been thirteen long years since their apology letter/fan service/throne rebuilding mission statement attempted to right the wrongs in the brutal death stalwart’s camp. But the wounds were too deep, the fanbase’s rage too visceral, and in the end, an otherwise excellent album passed by without much of the fanfare it deserved. In subsequent years, two slabs of incredible EP’s and one monster full-length have worked to regain the graces of death aficionados the world over. Constant touring and setting a personal record for being the first metal band to play in Saudi Arabia saw them putting in the work while fine-tuning the formula that brought them to the dance. Now, a meager two years after As Gomorrah Burns, the Canadians have not returned with The Book of Suffering III (unfortunately) but a new full-length in An Insatiable Violence. Is enough enough? Can we leave the checkered past behind us and welcome the return of the kings?

It’s my intellectually rooted, emotionally detached, and purely scientific opinion that we absolutely can. An Insatiable Violence is a masturbatory self-tribute of carnage on the grandest scale, touching on all the songwriting cornerstones that founded the classic Cryptopsy lore while still attempting to push the band’s compositions to new heights and their performances to ever more lethal levels. Every ingredient you can name in tech and brutal death, from waltz-rooted chuggathons (“Until There’s Nothing Left”), to staccato peppered twanging and forest-fire tempo’d savagery (“Fools Last Acclaim”), are worked with head chef precision into a concise, yet dense and detailed listen. Bassist Oliver Pinard’s fingerprints are all across the album with multiple solos and highlights (“The Art of Emptiness” “Our Great Deception”), adding color and texture to the fastest of riffs and depth of tone to the slower moments, ensuring an album that does its best to live up to its name in the bands overall trajectory.

The secret ingredient to Cryptopsy’s classics is catchy simplicity disguised through techy virtuosity1. This focus is found throughout An Insatiable Violence, where accessible hooks and immediate earworms are run through a filter of proficiency and skill. “The Nimis Adoration” features one of the single most melodic solos in the band’s history, while “Malicious Needs” is constructed on the bones of a stuttering groove which would slot itself neatly into the band’s OG era. Indeed, the band said they wrote the album while touring in support of As Gomorrah Burns, which imparts a flavor that’s meant to be performed and consumed in a live setting, and every cut across the bloody board features a highlight to liquify vertebrae and flay nerve endings.

Individual performances in the Cryptopsy camp remain unsurprisingly top shelf. Flo Mounier continues to expand his drumming skillset in defiance of bands half his age, while Matt McGachy maintains his growth as a vocalist. An Insatiable Violence features some of his best work, with his vocals hitting pitches both high and low yet to be heard in his tenure with the band, while growing in enunciation and barbarism. Throughout the album, the band writes a tribute to each of their eras, from grooves that sound pulled right from The Book of Suffering to acoustic strums from the avant-garde middle period, to the vintage, PTSD-inducing savagery of yore. Even the lyrics2 attempt to return to the storytelling literature vibe of olden days, and while it’s true nothing will quite hit the vibe of “Pardon, please”, the mood is permeated throughout the release.

An unusually early promo from Season of Mist has allowed me to spend almost two full months with An Insatiable Violence, and each of the near fifty listens I’ve had offer up some new detail, compositional nuance, or performative bit which stands out and demands my attention. For the last decade plus, Cryptopsy have enhanced their skillset, honed their compositions, and fine-tuned their performances into the giants they used to be. It is time to leave the past in the past, to cease using The Unspoken King as a benchmark of career banality, and to recognize that the throne has indeed been rebuilt. An Insatiable Violence is engaging, bloodthirsty, frantic, and most importantly, an excellent release from a granddaddy band who are here to remind any that there truly is none so vile.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: Album Bandcamp | Band Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AnInsatiableViolence #BrutalDeath #CanadianMetal #Cryptopsy #Jun25 #Review #Reviews #SeasonOfMist #TechDeath

Row of Ashes – Tide into Ruin Review

By Owlswald

Bristol post-hardcore group, Row of Ashes, likes to make noise—and they’re good at it. Known for their untamed live energy and drawing heavily from revered acts like Unsane, Will Haven, and Kowloon Walled City, Row of Ashes crafts an unyielding and suffocating wall of sound; one that fuses post-hardcore and sludge together with the experimental, dissonant fringes of noise rock. After releasing two EPs, their raw, physical force exploded onto the scene with 2022’s Bleaching Heat, a ruthless debut that earned them a tour with Will Haven. Now standing on the brink of broader recognition, Row of Ashes is ready to unleash Tide into Ruin, their second post-hardcore punch designed to be as overpowering and instinctual as their live performances.

Row of Ashes delivers raw, suffocating intensity through guitarist Will Duffin’s low, harsh distortion, Dan Arrowsmith’s bruising rhythms and bassist/vocalist Chris Wilson’s striking shouts. The threesome excels at crafting intense crowd-movers with stomping, crushing finales like “Immortalist” and “Icon,” while also evidencing their aptitude for tension and release with ominous, somber post-hardcore interludes such as “Coda” and “Wake.” Wilson’s and Duffin’s guitar and bass seamlessly meld into a thick, impervious wall of hard-hitting riffs, often creating an oppressive, gnarly buzz that rattles in unison, driving Tide into Ruin’s grim atmosphere. Wilson’s delivery is fierce and confrontational—his versatile range jumping effortlessly between British punk (“Fracture”), Mike Patton-like shrieks (“Leveller”) and blood-curdling hardcore screams (“Icon,” “Tide”), tearing through Row of Ashes’ heavy instrumental underbelly. Despite some mixed songwriting, Row of Ashes lets loose a surprisingly immense and pulverizing sound that defies their lean lineup.

Centered around Wilson and Duffin’s deep, sludgy distortion, Row of Ashes skillfully imbues Tide into Ruin with dynamic contrast, shifting between pummeling riffs and dissonant bursts, punctuated by softer, mournful interludes. The peaks and valleys of “Immortalist” and “Tide” demonstrate this with tender, forlorn passages squeezed between mammoth, plodding breakdowns. “Leveller’s” and “Icon’s” swarming guitar lines, sprayed with shoegaze-tinged high dissonance ebb and flow effortlessly, opposing crushing heaviness with momentary breaths that fuel the album’s brooding mood. Showcasing Row of Ashes’ more experimental side, “Imber’s” quirky beginning—featuring frantic guitar rises and feedback squeals—aptly conveys its anxiety through chaos before an eventual bone-crushingly heavy close. While the payoff takes a bit too long to arrive—even though Tide into Ruin’s stronger tracks feel too brief at times—this experimental flavor helps prevent the album from becoming a repetitive sludge-fest, pushing Row of Ashes’ sound beyond Bleaching Heat’s more straightforward style.

At the same time, this more experimental side also leads Row of Ashes astray. Interlude “Lille’s” ambient serenity and French spoken word is just short enough to work after the record’s strong first half, but “Wake” fares less successfully. Its length, repetition and close to forty-five seconds of nothing but feedback thwart its attempt to build pressure—alternating between quiet, eerie arpeggiated sections and heavier, distorted parts (including “Lille’s” spoken word). This same issue reappears later with “Coda.” The track’s somber, clean guitar notes and harmonics, coupled with Arrowsmith’s delicate cymbal work, create a foreboding and somber atmosphere that would have made for a much better closer if not for three minutes of cavernous ambient noises and static, rendering that portion of the song skippable. While interludes like these can be beneficial in a live setting, their inclusion here detracts from Tide into Ruin’s strength and cohesion, leading to more frustration than anything else.

Though the songwriting occasionally detracts from an otherwise solid effort, Tide into Ruin still contains some of Row of Ashes’ most potent material to date. And its relentless intensity—fueled by crushing riffs, fierce vocals, and raw energy—is amplified by a lively, organic mix that conveys the band’s vision. Row of Ashes’ affinity for crafting dynamic, atmospheric post-hardcore is sure to appeal to a wide range of fans, and the stage is set for them to realize their considerable potential. With continued refinement, Row of Ashes is poised to fully break through—building on their momentum and paving the way for a future brimming with possibility.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Road to Masochist
Websites: rowofashes.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/RowofAshesband | instagram.com/rowofashesband
Releases Worldwide: June 13th, 2025

#25 #2025 #BritishMetal #Jun25 #KowloonWalledCity #NoiseRock #PostHardcore #Review #Reviews #RoadToMasochist #RowOfAshes #Sludge #TideIntoRuin #Unsane #WillHaven

Numinous – Returning Review

By Twelve

Cascadian black metal is not a term you hear too often (unless you’re some kind of Cascadian black metal fan who regularly searches the term), but that’s what I was offered when I started looking into Returning. After I was done being enamored by the lovely cover art over there, I had to remind myself what it meant—and when I did, I was more than happy to dive in blind. The sophomore full-length from Numinous, Returning aims at a wild sound, boasting “emotional melodies, introspective ritual elements, and deeply thoughtful lyrics.”1 That checks all of the boxes for me—how does this particular branch of atmospheric black metal hold up to its inspiration and its contemporaries?

The natural imagery and theme to Returning is its most notable quality, and is expressed in several different ways throughout. Black metal this may well be, but it takes several minutes for the metal bit to get started and it makes up less of the album whole than you’d think. Still, I don’t mind a slow build, nor am I opposed to heightened thematic relevance. I don’t mind nature noises, acoustic guitars, plucked passages, tremolo riffs, all of which Numinous happily provide. The ambient passages are reminiscent of Wolves in the Throne Room, while the metal bits remind me, curiously, of October Falls—rough around the edges, but lively and spirited, with the tremolo leads in particular carrying melody and passion in a thematic, evocative way.

If only there were more of them! The lead guitar carries the emotional weight of Numinous, but gets little time to shine throughout, mostly on opener “Sacred Decay.” So much of Returning is dedicated to ambient passages or nature noises; so much of the metal songs use the same-sounding bludgeoning bass riff; and so much of the vocal approach is in a hoarse, not-a-growl, not-a-shout style that doesn’t land for me. When Numinous isn’t rocking an emotive, melodic lead, their music is often blending in with itself, losing memorability and impact. “Offerings to the Great Circle” has some strong ideas: an acoustic build to a thundering riff, an effectively creepy break around the one-third mark. These all represent great moments, but too often, they feel like they’re only moments—here one second, and gone the next, swept up by the next new idea that doesn’t make quite the same impact.

It doesn’t help that the full album is only three songs long, nor that “Offerings to the Great Circle” alone is twenty minutes out of forty-six. The three pieces are fairly distinct from one another, too—”Endless Dance” has no metal in it at all, but rather cycles through traditional drumming, nature samples, Forndom-style strings passages, and finally an acoustic build to the next song. All of this would be fine were the song not eleven minutes long, or maybe if it wasn’t following a thirteen-minute-long black metal song—or if didn’t “end” each time it introduces a new idea (it could easily be three distinct songs, with the acoustic end being far and away the best one). I mentioned earlier that “Offerings to the Great Circle” has some strong moments, but it similarly creaks under its weight, and could have been both shortened and split.2 All of this creates for me an image of an unrealized ambition, a vision Numinous has for Returning that I lost somewhere in the translation.

And it’s an honest shame, because I do think that somewhere or, perhaps, in several places—along the way, this band with a sound I like made some choices that I don’t care for, and now they and I are looking at two different things. The vision, passion, and technical skill are largely present, but as I listen to the four-minute-long ambient outro to “Offerings to the Great Circle” for what will be the final time, I can’t help but feel disappointed by the result.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Bindrune Recordings
Website: bindrunerecordings.bandcamp.com/album/numinous
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

#20 #2025 #AmericanMetal #BindruneRecordings #BlackMetal #Forndom #Jun25 #Numinous #OctoberFalls #Returning #Review #Reviews #WolvesInTheThroneRoom

Masseti – Odds and Ends Review

By Iceberg

When prog and symphonic metal meet in just the right way, they click together like puzzle pieces. Prog’s technicality and excess are balanced by the melody and atmosphere of symphonic metal. Symphonic metal’s penchant for straightforward structure and synth-reliance is buoyed by the dynamism and rhythm-bending of guitar wizardry. Tiago Masseti, the man behind his eponymous band, Masseti, is seeking to walk the line between these two styles on his debut album, Odds and Ends. Previously fronting Brazilian prog act Daydream XI, Tiago relocated to Brooklyn and hashed out the eight tracks of his debut album in the creative incubator of the COVID lockdowns. Masseti’s chosen style is dear to my heart, so I was excited to see if Odds and Ends could rekindle one of my oldest and fondest flames.

If you’re familiar with the sounds of early Symphony X and Dream Theater, you’ll have insight into the contents of Odds and Ends. Chunky, rhythmic riffs propel the verses towards catchy choruses and then into acrobatic instrumental passages, and don’t forget the omnipresent unison lines, where keyboard and guitar move through tonality and barlines with abandon. Musical prowess is required here, and the performances on Odds and Ends are tight and commendable across the board. Tiago, whether he means to or not, does a spot-on impression of 90’s Russell Allen, with a clean upper register that can wail in the highs (“A Singer In The Arms Of Winter”) and swoop into low growls (“Against Our Fire”). His guitar work is impressive, with solos in the mold of Romeo and Petrucci (“The Pool of Liquid Dreams,” “A Singer In The Arms Of Winter”). Masseti’s rhythm section is dependable and shines when needed, with a noteworthy bass intro (“The Pool of Liquid Dreams”) and some dazzlingly quick combinations on the drums (“Against Our Fire”).

Odds and Ends is a fitting title for Masseti’s debut, because the album consists of tracks that seem fully cooked and others that don’t quite fit in. When Tiago nails his songwriting and editing, though, some of the material is downright decadent. Opener and somehow-not-single “Serpents and Whores” is the star of the show here, effortlessly fusing modern Haken djent with an absolute banger of a chorus and a smart, underutilized odd-time signature diversion in the coda. The album busies itself with winding paths from there, visiting classic Symphony X-tinged ballads (“Gone,” “Hindrance”) and long-form Dream Theater-style excursions (“Never Be Like You,” “Heir Of The Survivor”). Masseti certainly don’t rest on their laurels, but the cosmopolitan nature of Odds and Ends proves to be something of an Achilles’ heel.

Perhaps more important than convincing songs is album cohesion. The DR 6 production has a modern sheen to it, but it runs louder than it needs to and would benefit from more nuance and depth. Prog is no stranger to long compositions, but they can be momentum killers, and editing is paramount. The opening salvo of tracks is trimmed and lean, full of exciting choruses and varied songwriting approaches, but the album’s center sags. “Singer In The Arms Of Winter” is a hulking tribute to Dio that nails the execution but sticks around just a little too long, and while “Never Be Like You” uses a refreshingly off-kilter unison rhythm as its central motif, it takes 8 minutes to do what it could probably do in 6. The kinetic energy of the album’s outset is never really regained. By the time closer “Heir Of The Survivor”—a Twilight Of Olympus inspired track if I’ve ever heard one—rolls around, it seems Masseti has lost the novel direction they took in the beginning and are sitting in more comfortable, proven territory.

It may seem I’m coming down hard on Masseti, but I do it out of love, because the front end of this album shows just how much raw potential is here. Tiago should be commended for shouldering so much of the performance and production for a debut album that sounds like it’s coming from a mature outfit. I can see myself returning to this album every once in a while, but tracks like “Serpents and Whores” and “Gone” will definitely be making my NOW 2025 list1. Masseti have all the tools in their belt, and with greater editing and album cohesion, I see a great symphonic prog record in their future.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: massetiofficial.com | facebook.com/massetiofficial
Releases Worldwide: June 14th, 2025

#2025 #30 #DaydreamXI #Dio #DreamTheater #Haken #Jun25 #Masseti #OddsAndEnds #PowerMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #SymphonicMetal #SymphonyX #USMetal

Morbyda – Under the Spell Review

By El Cuervo

I always enjoy reviewing and exposing bands on their debut. A debut offers a cornucopia of possibilities: will it be innovative? Exciting? Shit? Picking up an album deep into a discography often results in something that’s like what came before, but with a debut, there’s an element of the unknown. Under the Spell by Germany’s Morbyda is one such example, with just one demo and live release under their belt previously. Promising a NWoBHM-inflected release of blackened speed metal, there are few things more heartening than a young band making heavy metal. Do I remain heartened after spending hours with Morbyda?

At its core, Under the Spell blends blackened shouts, wailing vibratos, crunchy guitars, and vibrant riffs into energetic speed metal. Despite the heaviness derived from the grimy instrumental tones and unrelenting pace, the melodies are so upbeat that they almost sound happy. And although the songs sometimes lack the brevity that might benefit them, I admire their directness. Focused songwriting prioritizes the fastest route from guitar lead to guitar lead, and there are few moments on the album that aren’t trying to be big, loud, and boisterous. On “Turning the Wheel of Steel” – coincidentally, how Steel Druhm describes himself becoming aroused – the harmonized lead is a highlight and refrain to which the song regularly returns. Likewise, the key change to a higher octave at 3:10, underpinned by a slowing rhythm, partitions the song into two halves and accentuates the ensuing solo. Morbyda target maximalism.

The production packages the Under the Spell sound into something fairly chaotic and lo-fi. This would be my ordinary preference, especially for black/speed metal, but here it’s so roughshod that there are unfortunate consequences. The muddy rhythm section is the prime suspect, filling the middle of the sound stage with drums and bass that are poorly defined. This not only obscures the instrumental skill of the respective performers; it also obscures the second guitarist and distinctiveness of the riffs. The riffs are generally good, but the poorly defined mix results in many sounding the same. This results in a release where, once you’ve heard a couple of the tracks, you’ve heard them all. Sonic consistency is a given on a cohesive record, but this creeps into a uniformity that undermines the divisions between songs. By contrast, moments where the soundstage clears to expose fewer instruments – like the transition around 1:50 on “Mother of Decay” – my attention is grabbed once more.

Under the Spell is most enjoyable when its songs are restricted to a shorter duration; the three shortest are some of the best. “Evil” offers a speedy and robust introduction, “The Curse” is uniquely boisterous on a boisterous album, and “Sacrifice” benefits from a spidery lead that’s both technical and atmospheric. Accordingly, the three tracks that approach or exceed six minutes suffer the most from the length. And beyond sheer time consumed, Morbyda struggle to arrange the longer tracks in a sophisticated manner. The transition from a slower instrumental passage to the frenzied solo at 3:55 on “Mother of Decay” is jarring and representative of transitions that are just as roughshod as the production. Likewise, this same track closes with a guitar solo that simply stops. The album is the product of an enthusiastic group trying to stitch together enthusiastic songs, but their enthusiasm exceeds their compositional abilities.

I’ve struggled to score Under the Spell. I have numerous gripes, from the muddy production to the monotonous song-writing to the clunky arrangements. And yet my over-arching response is still one that’s reasonably positive. You might expect imperfections from a young band figuring out their sound, and Morbyda have a bouncy, entertaining quality. There are ultimately too many obstacles to reach a ‘good’ rating, but I’ll be tracking the progress of these Germans with interest.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Website: morbyda.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

#25 #2025 #BlackenedSpeedMetal #DyingVictimsProductions #GermanMetal #Jun25 #Morbyda #Review #Reviews #SpeedMetal #UnderTheSpell

Affliction Vector – Contra Hominem Review

By Alekhines Gun

Sometimes you encounter a piece of work that stands as a testament to everything you love in music. Lovers of heavy tones and brutal riffs in all their permutations are constantly chasing that dragon, seeking the brutality to return us to our more joyful youth, or the blackened assaults that turn melted frowns into jubilant smiles. Some bands accomplish this through interesting cross-pollinations of sound, while others adhere to the straight and narrow definitions set by the genre’s torchbearers, who earn their merit through the strength of their songcraft and adherence to proper production. Either way, the quest is the same: create something to make audience and reviewer alike point in awe, stand smitten with horns raised high and tequila on our breath (or apple juice if you’re wholesome like Killjoy) and love in our hearts as we declare “This is good! This is real! This is excellent!” Fortunately for my limited well of superlatives, Contra Hominem is not such an album, and it’s not even close.

Affliction Vector have presented an album whose production is devoid of any real defining features. Somehow, at once lo-fi in mix yet hi-fi in tone, Contra Hominem offers a listen which avoids the abrasive, sharp tones of the brutal assault it pretends to offer, yet blends any melodies or riffs down into the mix until the entire album passes by in a listless haze. The aural equivalent of a glass of water, its sounds are featureless, smoothed over, and bland, with no sound grabbing the listener’s ear or providing any engagement despite its short 28-minute runtime. Faceless blast after faceless blast, so flavorless I’m offended a Faceless band name has already been taken, make attempts to walk in the cleft hoof of Teitanblood, but without the proper sound quality to match the necessary assault. Contra Hominem sounds lazy, meandering, and manages to take a package of high BPM assemblages somehow and make them sound as lethargic as the color scheme “adorning” the art.

But Gun! I hear you cry, what of the riffs? To be sure, this glass of water does contain a few ice cubes to chew on. Unfortunately, two of the biggest and most distinct cubes come in the shape of two interludes, one of which is nothing but the sound of running water. I’m more into album intros and interludes than some of my colleagues, but a sub-half-hour album has no need for interludes, let alone mere sound effects. The album opens with a twangy piano intro in an attempt to be spooky, but the melody is so protracted as to grate more than intimidate. “Lethal” manages to work a memorable moment above the deluge of textureless soundscapes, as does “Nero Gorgo”. The latter is the best song, with creative organ layering and a monster drop of a groove, which causes the ears to perk up in joy at the oasis in the barren desert across the rest of the album.

Performances by the members of Affliction Vector are serviceable in their delivery of mediocrity. Stefano S. handles drums, and the production does allow his kick to come through with meaty oomph, rendering blasts pleasing to the ear. Occasionally, he slows down enough to flirt with industrial tempos, particularly in “Ephemeral Lifeless.” Ans handles all other duties and shows competence in the delivery of solos. There’s a nifty time change in “Animalis Irae”, and he really lets his voice hit fever pitch at “To Lucifer.” But ultimately, these are fleeting moments in a lifeless experience, a few merciful snapshots of technical capability raising their head from the miasma of gray within.

Sorry to say, Contra Hominem is boring. The promo sheet described the album as trying to summon noise, which could bridge the gap between Heaven and Hell, but unfortunately, that’s a pretty big bridge to build. The first step is successfully crossing the gap in the points between my attention span, and in that goal, it has proven to be a cataclysmic failure. It’s boring in how it’s produced. It’s boring in how it’s performed. It’s boring in how it’s composed. Any one of the three are surmountable if the other two are used as strength (just see how the admittedly good production on the last Rivers album has people convinced the music itself is good) but this trifecta of drab and dreary only solidifies this album as memorable in how much I’ve not enjoyed my time with it, despite allowing numerable replays in a chance to win me over.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Iron Bonehead Productions
Websites: afflictionvector.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/AnsAV666
Releases Worldwide: June 6th, 2025

#15 #2025 #AfflictionVector #BlackMetal #ContraHominem #IronBoneheadProductions #ItalianMetal #Jun25 #Review #Reviews #RiversOfNihil #Teitanblood #TheFaceless

Dolven – In My Grave…Silence Review

By ClarkKent

In his review of Aganoor’s Doomerism, Killjoy discussed how the “myriad subgenres” of doom “can sound so wildly different from one another.” We can add to this discussion Portland, Oregon’s Dolven, who bills their latest album, In My Grave…Silence, as acoustic doom. This begs the question, what constitutes doom metal? Doom typically buries you in melancholy and despair with heavy, plodding, low-tuned guitars, or it sets you up for a good trip by adding some fuzz to the guitar tone. Can one really write doom music using acoustic instruments? Could you even call it metal, or is it just folk music? Sure, an acoustic guitar doesn’t get the same tone as an electric, but what matters is the spirit of the music–the mood and the tempo. Of course, I’m not really here to argue the semantics of what makes an album doom. Ultimately, I’m here to tell you whether Dolven’s latest album, In My Grave…Silence, is worthy of a spin or two.

Anyone familiar with Dolven’s prior work will quickly notice In My Grave…Silence sounds a little different. This is thanks to new singer, Jori Apedaile (Eneferens, Hyalithe), and percussionist, Hunter Ginn (Agalloch). Apedaile, who generally shrieks on his one-man black metal projects, sings gentle, plaintive cleans, at odds with the previous vocalist, Henry Lauer, who had a lower tenor and occasionally provided some growls. Ginn makes use of hand drums that bring a light, meditative touch, in addition to drums gently-tapped by stick. Even outside of these two n00bs, In My Grave…Silence has a much more refined and polished sound than prior outings. Main songwriter and guitarist, Nick Wusz (Snares of Sixes), remains Dolven’s heart and soul. He plays a mix of lightly plucked tunes and softly-strummed chords and provides such a soulful touch that it’s as if his guitar itself is crooning. Finally, bassist Jason W. Walton (Agalloch, Sculptured) provides a deeper resonance on his acoustic bass, reminding you of the sorrow residing behind Wusz’s sometimes uplifting, hopeful melodies.

There’s an intimacy to the musical compositions that brings the feeling of sitting around a campfire and watching Dolven play live. The phenomenal production values enhance these qualities.1 You can clearly hear every note, even the sliding of Wusz’s fingers on the strings. The album is also exceptionally quiet, forcing you to turn it up and pay close attention. This closeness brings a sense of comfort in spite of the otherwise mournful sounds and words. Where electric guitars leave lingering noise with each strum, the acoustic instruments create empty spaces that add to the tranquil melancholy. The tracks on In My Grave…Silence are thoughtful and intentional. The nine-minute “You’ve Chosen,” for example, doesn’t feel a second too long. It mixes a catchy whistling tune, terrific guitar playing, soulful singing, and meditative hand drums to create what will end up being one of the best songs of the year.2

The issue with a 45-minute album filled with acoustic plucks is that the songs start to blend together. Each song has its own distinct melodies, but without other distinguishing features a few of them are tough to differentiate from the pack. The more memorable tracks make use of unique features, such as the whistling on “You’ve Chosen” or the string instrument (likely violin) on “Beside Me.” The instrumentals in particular, are more ephemeral in nature and don’t necessarily stay with you after the record’s over. In My Grave…Silence also gets repetitive, especially on the longer tracks. This is more noticeable with the lyrics, where Apedaile repeats himself a lot. On “Anymore” he sings, “I don’t want to talk about it,” over and over, every other time adding the lyric “anymore.”3 A little bit of editing and trimming could have helped reduce this feeling of repetition.

All that said, In My Grave…Silence is a beautiful listen. It will haunt you with its melodies and plaintive singing, and it will calm you with its lightly-played arrangements. Wusz is a talented musician, and he has made wise choices in who to surround himself with. The long-form compositions he writes are outstanding, and he plays them wonderfully. His songs remind me of classical compositions, and that a record like this gets treated as metal or metal-adjacent says a lot about what makes heavy metal such a diverse musical genre. Across three records, Dolven has made clear improvements, and I have no doubt the next go around will be even better.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Winding Stairs Records
Websites: dolven.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/dolven.oregon
Releases Worldwide: June 13th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AcousticDoom #Agalloch #Aganoor #AmericanMetal #Dolven #DoomMetal #Eneferens #Folk #Hyalithe #InMyGraveSilence #Jun25 #NotMetal #Review #Reviews #Sculptured #SnaresOfSixes #WindingStairsRecords

Sun After Dark – Tatkraft Review

By Mystikus Hugebeard

Sun After Dark is an enigmatic new project that comes to us from one Benjamin König. He was a co-founding member and the principal composer of frigid black metal legends Lunar Aurora, which will surely excite my Dear and Hollow friend, but has very few listed musical credits since Lunar Aurora’s dissolution in 2012. In the interim, König has been a prolific artist, providing album artwork for bands like Botanist, Horna, Equilibrium, and so on. In fact, König’s artwork for Polar Veil by Hexvessel was even awarded 10th place on GardensTale’s Illustrious Artwork Extravaganza. Today, Herr König is cursed blessed with his first trve AMG review, for his first musical work in roughly a decade: Tatkraft.

At the risk of oversimplifying the myriad of musical ideas within Tatkraft, I would affectionately classify Tatkraft as blackened gothic metal. The opening volley efficiently demonstrates what Sun After Dark is about. “Dawn and Dirges” opens with a bevy of keyboard effects augmenting the guitars as they grow in intensity, launching into an immensely satisfying riff as the vocals appear. Thomas Helm (Empyrium, and the other permanent member of Sun After Dark) has a rich, operatic croon that contrasts nicely with Matthias Jell’s (Azathoth from Dark Fortress) nastier shrieks. “Waidmanns Hoffnung” shows visions of Tatkraft’s slower side, interspersing long passages of gloomy guitars and electronic drums with brief forays into blackened aggression. Like a medium-rare steak and red wine, the softer and heavier sides of Tatkraft pair deliciously. Tatkraft will often remind one of other bands—the vibes are a little bit The Vision Bleak, there’s some ambient traces of Lunar Aurora to be found, naturally, and Helm’s singular vocals cannot help but evoke Empyrium—but König balances the album’s sonic elements with finesse and creativity such that Tatkraft sounds wholly original throughout.

While the facets of Tatkraft complement each other well, the album’s greatest strength lies in König‘s inspired songwriting; the mashed potatoes with our steak and wine, if you will. Gnashing guitars (“Dawn and Dirges”), emotionally rich melodies (“Leaving Metropolis”), or folksy energy (“Schlittenfahrt”) hooks the listener straight away, until repeat listens reveal the layers of depth König has hidden behind the musicianship. In this regard, Tatkraft’s keyboards rival Atlas in weight carried. Flanging and warbling keyboards form a swirling tempest around the guitars in “Dawn and Dirges,” “Burning Blue,” “Antarctic Morning,” or they eke out a siren’s droning hum in “Waidmanns Hoffnung,” or any of the other infinite tiny tricks heard across the whole of Tatkraft. It’s all subtle and unobtrusive, and it’s a great way to utilize the negative space that makes for some wonderful moments like the blaring emergency honks atop chugging guitars towards the end of “Antarctic Morning.” The mix, by Victor Bullok of Triptykon, enables this depth to shine through while the moment-to-moment experience remains immediate and engaging.

What ultimately holds Tatkraft back from the higher score it deserves is a matter of focus. König is undoubtedly a talented songwriter with solid songcraft ideas, but these ideas infrequently culminate into a single, structurally satisfying whole. What highlights this are the sheer strength of “Burning Blue” and “Antarctic Morning,” where each sequence seamlessly flows into the next until reaching the climax. These songs do wield some of the strongest material in Tatkraft, so perhaps they’re unfairly advantaged. Still, there is a clear-cut and engaging progression to each song’s flow, which in turn highlights the opposite in “Ohne Grab” and “Schlittenfahrt.” Each song is similarly laden with strong ideas—I love the raking guitars that open “Ohne Grab” and the polka-inspired riffs of “Schlittenfahrt” (featuring Mosaic’s Martin Falkenstein) are a blast in a vacuum—but the flow is absent. The individual sequences in “Ohne Grab” are starkly different from one another, and the transitions between them lack any grace, while “Schlittenfahrt,” despite a strong core riff, feels incomplete, as if it were missing its second or third act. But ultimately, these rough edges do feel earned, not so much subtracting from the big picture but adding texture. No song on Tatkraft lacks in inspiration or sincerity, and boredom will be a foreign concept during your listening experience.

In the end, Tatkraft has made me an eager fan of Sun After Dark. There are a few things here and there to be ironed out, but I feel genuinely excited for Sun After Dark’s future. I shall be recommending Tatkraft to like-minded individuals, but when the day arrives, we get an album full of “Burning Blue”‘s and “Antarctic Morning”‘s, no god nor king could stop my blackened gothic crusade from spreading Sun After Dark to all.

Rating: Good!!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Hammerheart Records
Websites: facebook | bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 13th, 2025

#2025 #30 #BlackMetal #BlackenedGothic #DarkFortress #Empyrium #GermanMetal #GothicMetal #Jun25 #LunarAurora #Mosaic #Review #Reviews #SunAfterDark #Tatkraft #TheVisionBleak #Triptykon