#katatonia — Public Fediverse posts

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seems like the Filtration system is overburdened once again. Normally, my minions have to scavenge much longer to pick things up this early in the year, but 2026 is proving to be rich in moderately precious metallic ore. That just means I gotta push my team even harder to pull greater loads of filth from the ducts!

As I send them in for yet another round, please enjoy the spoils thus far exploited. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Tattered Tome

Overtoun // Death Drive Anthropology [February 13th, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

Chilean progressive death thrash outfit Overtoun is what you get when you mix old school Death and Atheist with the proggier side of Pestilence, then amp the thrash up by a half turn. At a lofty 50 minutes, you’d expect third release Death Drive Anthropology to drag on, but to make that assumption is to criminally underestimate Overtoun’s creativity and versatility. Opening up the throttle in fine form, the one-two punch of “What Unites All (ft. Max Phelps) and “The Final Beat” manages to encompass many of these Chileans’ songwriting and performance skills in a scant 10 minutes. More introspective, nuanced songwriting takes center stage throughout Anthropology’s midsection, balancing smart melodies and minimalist atmosphere with complex guitar layering, proggy structures, and shreddy wizardry (“Dur Khrod,” “Jade, Gold, Obsidian,” “Yurei,” “Weeping”). The three-part “The Waves Suite” suite adds a mystical character to the affair that blends remarkably well with Overtoun’s more overt political messaging and emotional textures, which helps carry the record through its lengthy runtime without causing fatigue. It’s a neat record that’s modestly blemished by a bass presence that begs for more weight and wildness, especially considering the raw talent on hand. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for a creative, thoughtful, and sophisticated entry into the death/thrash progosphere, Death Drive Anthropology makes a strong case.

Andy-War-Hall’s Primordial Pick-Up

The Grand Myth // Of Vultures and Dragons [February 26th, 2026 – Suncrusher Recordings]

I have a grossly limited capacity for seriousness. Yeah, I like my death metal progressive, technical, and thoughtful, much the way Brandon Bordman’s The Grand Myth deliver it on their latest record, Of Vultures and Dragons, but sometimes I just want fun, too. Of Vultures and Dragons, an adaptation of Ethan Pettus’ novel series Primitive War1 in which a rescue team searches a Vietnamese jungle for a missing platoon of Green Berets and fights for their lives against dinosaurs, has fun in spades. Utilizing a many-layered guitar attack (“Symbiotic Death”), shifting and propulsive rhythms (“Through the River Styx”), a wide cast of voice actors for brief narrative bits2 and surprisingly bright tones (“Agony”), The Grand Myth’s approach to progressive death metal isn’t revolutionary, but it’s deeply refreshing and engaging regardless. Though an absolute blast, The Grand Myth doesn’t spew embarrassingly stupid levels of campiness with their sci-fi dinosaur theming like Victorius. Rather, Of Vultures and Dragons can be fairly emotionally effective at times thanks to Bordman’s emotive clean/harsh vocals and elaborate soloing (“Pyre,” “Agony”). Nobody asks about your favorite dinosaur anymore,3 so feed your inner kid with The Grand Myth’s Of Vultures and Dragons now!

Saunders’ Sunken Shards

Puscifer// Normal Isn’t [February 6th, 2026 – Alchemy Recordings]

After losing track of recent offerings, I reacquainted myself with the latest LP from Puscifer, leaving me pleasantly surprised in the aftermath. The project featuring Tool/A Perfect Circle frontman Maynard James Keenan returned for their first hit out since 2020’s Existential Reckoning. Normal Isn’t finds the shape-shifting project embracing its quirky, gothy industrial rock and electronic elements through an angsty filter of guitar-driven arty rock, post-punk, and infectious songcraft. Age should not weary Maynard, as he still sounds angry, cynical, and on point vocally through a mostly engaging, catchy bag of tunes. The dueling vocal melodies with collaborator Carina Round’s ghostly singing work a treat amidst jittery beats, angular riffs and strong electronic overtones. Rhythmically, it is an interesting ride, drummer Gunnar Olsen putting in a top-notch performance, while there is a vaguely progressive edge underlying the hook-centric songwriting. Opener “Thrust” sets the album in motion with sticky hooks, a darkly humorous, unhinged Maynard performance, and a dose of spite. Other key highlights include “Bad Wolf,” “Self Evident,” “A Public Stoning,” and “ImpetuoUs.” Puscifer made a fine return with Normal Isn’t.

Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows // Inexorable Opposites [February 6th, 2026 – Magnetic Eye Records]

You’ve gotta love a sneaky name drop from our trusty commentariat. It has led to many great discoveries over the years. On this occasion, one of our dear commenters enlightened me to Melbourne psych-blues-doomers Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows with fourth LP, Inexorable Opposites. And it didn’t take long absorbing this latest slab of rustic Aussie coolness to be struck by the album’s slow-burning, addictive power, and gritty tones. Boasting an expansive, rugged sound built on layers of distortion and a weighty blend of psych-drenched blues and doom heaviness. Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows features old school, outlaw-driven lyrical content from mastermind and vocalist/guitarist Tim Coutts-Smith, meshing fictional tales of woe and adventure of character Jack Harlon, with relatable real-life struggles. Through the fuzz, thick jammy vibes, and Coutts-Smith distorted, menacing Aussie drawl, catchy songcraft shines through the muck and psych haze. From the tense, stoner-infected grit and catchy hooks of opener “Moss,” through to the stormy outback balladry of closer “To Die,” Inexorable Opposites is a hard-hitting, riffy delight, further evidenced through scorched earth, infectious cuts like “Venomous,” “Seer,” and the trippy, drug-addled “Mt. Macedon.”

Grin Reaper’s Reaped Recluse

Cold Communion // Monuments to Ruin [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Melodic death/doom isn’t a genre I dabble in often, but every now and again, one of its bands thwarts my defenses and wraps their tendrils around my precious listening time. Durham, North Carolina’s Cold Communion is one such band, featuring Barre Gambling (Daylight Dies) on guitar and Tim Rowland (Alchemy of Flesh, Silent Vigil) on everything else. If that sounds like an unfair split, take a spin and reassess, because Gambling’s performance defines Cold Communion’s melancholic character as much as Rowland’s emotive growl. Forgoing any long-form doom epics, Monuments to Ruin’s longest song comes in at five-and-a-half minutes, with the entire album clocking just forty-five. It’s a tidy platter, and both in song composition and mood shares ample common ground with Finnish sadbois Insomnium. Besides Monuments’ superior production, songs like “A Stillness Survival” and “When the Light Breaks” wouldn’t feel out of place on Across the Dark or One for Sorrow. And despite the somber trappings one might expect from doom-adjacency, there’s plenty of lively riffing and solos to find across Monuments to Ruin, adding a touch of boom to the gloom. In the end, Cold Communion doesn’t reinvent the genre or break new ground, but Monuments to Ruin offers a comfy chair by the fireside on a freezing cold day, and I’m perfectly content with that.

Mossgiver // Renewer [February 6th, 2026 – Sij MusicArt]

Atmospheric black metal often contrasts the beautiful with the bestial, typically prioritizing moods over hooks. ‘Twas a delight, then, to unearth Mossgiver’s Renewal, which deftly combines the two. Weaving together hypnotic passages flooded with strings, piano, flute, synths, double bass rolls, and the requisite blackened tremolos,4 Mossgiver’s mastermind Tilen Šimon (Ueldes) delivers the band’s best record to date. Above all, Renewer sounds like a celebration of nature in the vein of Autrest and Cân Bardd, evoking a whispering wind whipping at leaves or sunlight dappling a brook shaded by oaks and maples. Beyond the well-crafted soundtrack for a walk through the woods, Mossgiver etches emotion into the nooks and crannies of Renewer’s five tracks. From rousing string orchestrations (“I Bring the Spring with Me”) to soft-and-heavy tradeoffs pitting clean guitar and pan pipes against distorted guitar and blast beats (“Renewer”), Mossgiver shimmers with a lush backdrop of instrumentation rife with playfulness and pensiveness. The trio of primary songs5 revolve around powerful melodies that evolve over each track’s duration, with assorted instruments coming in and out to push refrains along. Renewer’s brisk thirty-four minutes showcase Mossgiver’s sticky compositions and leave me whistling its melodies for days at a time. Now throw on your hiking boots and get lost in the Moss.

Ossomancer // Banebdjed’s Path [February 28th, 2026 – Esoteric Evocations]

Six-and-a-half years removed from Ossomancer’s debut Artes Magickae, lone wolf and mastermind Kamose returns to tread Banebjed’s Path. Bursting with references to mythology and mysticism, Banebjed’s Path rumbles and shakes with arcane thunder. Although the backdrop and track names might recall the frenzied onslaught of Nile, Ossomancer instead conceives a realm recalling Aeternam, Iotunn, and Naglfar. Despite the scant thirty-four-minute runtime, Banebjed’s Path sprawls across diverse landscapes and textures. Opener “The Ogdoad Arrangement and the Osirian Creation” oscillates between In Flames melodies and a slinky crawl that could pass for a 90s Geddy Lee bass line played over synth injections from Rush’s 80s era. Follow-up track “Sobek – Cosmic Vibrations Devoured” features Kreator-bred riffing, while closing duo “A Sea of Sand, a Silver Star” and “Retraction into Kether” synthesize the ethereal atmospheres of Iotunn with the blackened assault of Naglfar. Through it all, Ossomancer sounds fabulous, as Banebjed’s Path flaunts an enviable DR 8 and a bodacious mix that spotlights its burly bass performance. Ossomancer’s sophomore outing is crammed with meloblack goodies, and though it’s not a long trek, the journey down Banebjed’s Path far transcends its distance.

Tyme’s Danish Dalliance

Ædel Fetich // Ædel Fetich [February 20th, 2026 – Deadbanger Productions]

That blinged-out pink dish-glove-clad hand is what first drew me to Denmark outfit Ædel Fetich’s self-titled debut. Then I clicked play and was taken on one of the more compelling “black” metal rides in recent memory. With roots primarily buried in the soil of the traditional second-wave, Ædel Fetich is rife with moments of rifferous tremolodic speed (“Ridderlig Lider,” “Madras”) and absolutely berserk guitar chaos (“Sort Magi”). There’s a Trhä-like sense of experimentation, and the rawness of the production enhances the oft-changing compositions, which, like weather in the Midwest, often shift on a dime without warning. Luckily, Ædel Fetich’s adept songwriting organically smooths these transitions, which could have easily come off stilted and jarring, but makes drawing direct comparisons to the Ædel Fetich sound difficult, as there’s a spectrum of other influences at play. There are tracks packed with punky punch (“Et Liv Fuld af Fejl,” “Ildtang”) or imbued with folky reverence (“Mit Billede af Dig”) and even some 80s pop—fans of the movie Flashdance shouldn’t have a problem finding the poppy easter egg hiding near the end of “Sort Magi.”6 Far and away the star of the show, however, is singer Skvat, whose performance is filled with as much black metal bravado as it is theatrical exuberance, his arsenal of shrieks, growls, hoots, howls, and operatic baritonations a refreshing treat, akin to if Mike Patton woke up one day deciding to record a Danish black metal album. Bottom line is, I really dig Ædel Fetich and think you will too.

Creeping Ivy’s Ashen Afterthought

Belzebong // The End is High [February 20th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

In my humble opinion, lyrics are key to making stoner metal more than novelty music. If you’re referencing reefer in your album art, band name, and song titles, at least keep the reeferisms out of the songs themselves,7 or better yet, avoid vocals altogether. Taking this latter advice to heart is instrumental Polish four-piece Belzebong, who have been at it for almost 20 years now. On The End is High, their fourth full-length, Belzebong deal 35 minutes of fuzzed-out riffery described as “a new sermon for the final days.” While not as highbrow (huh huh) as the instrumental stoner metal of Bongripper, Belzebong are similarly ominous on opener (yes) “Bong & Chain,” which caps its ten-minute burn with creepy, haunting synths. From there, the band settle into material more akin to Bongzilla; sound clips adorn the chill grooves of “420 Horsemen,” “Hempnotized,” and “Reefer Mortis,” which closes things out with some solid Electric Wizard worship. If you instinctively (and understandably) recoil from music with marijuana aesthetics but dig the meditative repetition offered by stoner metal, consider sampling The End is High. It’s not exactly the caricature it advertises itself as.

Baguette’s Bygone Bounty

Sundecay // The Blood Lives Again [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Toronto’s Sundecay has been around for a while. These Canadian doomers spawned sometime prior to 2014, quietly releasing EP material every once in a blue moon. The Blood Lives Again is their first full-length release—their first signs of life since 2018 in general—and the time and care they took to develop their sound and songwriting prowess pays off here in spades. The doom and proto-doom inspirations from Black Sabbath to Saint Vitus are obvious (“Here Comes the Wizard”), complemented by other influences from proto-metal, psychedelic, and progressive music (“Silence Spoken”). The hefty, layered guitars have a nice fuzz without fully landing in stoner territory. Ambitious long-form tracks like “Will Dusk Defy Dawn” flow like water while carrying significant emotional heft. Lastly, a moody, reverb-heavy vocal performance crowns the classic doom trance the band is aiming for. At five tracks and some 43 minutes, The Blood Lives Again is a total vibe and flies by before you’ve even noticed. Fans of the ’70s should take notes!

Temple Balls // Temple Balls [February 13th, 2026 – Frontiers Music]

One of the most authentic ways you can honor rock music tradition is via questionable naming conventions. On an unrelated note, Temple Balls is a Finnish hard rock/glam rock band, and they’re fun as hell! They’re not particularly new around the block, either: the group formed in 2009, and self-titled Temple Balls is already their fifth album since debut Traded Dreams in 2017. 2023’s Avalanche felt like a watershed moment, a welcome surprise that brought some new life and energy to a fairly dated genre of Europeisms and Hanoi Rocks rehashes. Temple Balls proves that Avalanche wasn’t a one-off, continuing their extremely authentic throwback approach. The heavy/power-metal-meets-AOR direction of songwriting (“Flashback Dynamite,” “Soul Survivor”) gives it that extra guitar oomph and energy that melodic music like this requires to be anywhere near competitive. With great all-out vocals from Arde Teronen and gigantic hooks to match, it’s just a damn good time front to back. Though it will sadly be the last time we’ll hear Niko Vuorela’s guitar work on record (R.I.P., and fuck cancer), the self-titled is certainly a worthy final milestone for him—and hopefully, another beginning for his comrades.

ClarkKent’s Enchanting Earworm

Hela // A Reign to Conquer [February 27, 2026 – Ardua Music]

Just as it put a pause on many plans and projects, the COVID pandemic slowed down the output of Spain’s Hela. A Reign to Conquer marks their first record since 2019’s Vegvìsir, which was their third release since 2013. This brief hiatus brought new blood in the form of vocalist Raquel Navarro, though, in truth, the only consistency in Hela’s lineup is the other three members—Tano Giménez on bass, Miguel Fernández (The Holeum) on drums, and Julián Velasco (The Holeum) on guitars. They have a deep bond, first forged in 2009 with The Sand Collector before forming Hela just three years later. Though they brand Hela as melodic doom, and the band does have a little in common with Katatonia, I think it’s more accurate to describe them as dreamy progressive rock. Navarro is a major reason for this, with dreamy croons that guide listeners through breezy soundscapes. She bears a passing resemblance to Maud the Moth, though the music Hela plays is decidedly more metal than our Dolphin friend’s favorite nocturnal insect. Guitarist Velasco plays a hypnotizing mix of atmospheric fuzz, crushing doom, and melodic riffs that add some heft and crunch to the ethereal sound. A Reign to Conquer has plenty of layers to probe, rewarding listeners who bear with it for repeat listens. While my initial spins left me wanting, I’ve since become spellbound. Add to that some gorgeous artwork, and this is a nice addition to anyone’s vinyl collection. Hela yeah!

Spicie Forrest’s Vicious Vittles

A Wilhelm Scream8 // Cheap Heat [February 27th, 2026 – Creator-Destructor Records]

A Wilhelm Scream9 returns after a four-year hiatus with their eighth long player, Cheap Heat. Sounding like the best combination of The Story So Far and Rise Against, A Wilhelm Scream delivers an impressive tour de force so late in their career. Vocalist Nuno Pereira10 is the highlight of Cheap Heat, driving the album with urgency and passion (“Somebody’s Gonna Die,” “Fell Off”), but no one here is a slouch. The rhythm section—bassist Brian J. Robinson, rhythm guitarist Trevor Reilly, and drummer Nicholas Pasquale Angelini—gleefully tosses gas on Pereira’s bonfire (“I Got Tunnel Vision”) and delivers solid grooves (“Poison II”) and searing ragers (“Unsolving the Mystery”) that keep the energy cranked to 11 all through Cheap Heat. Hooks are by far the most common lead duty, and Ben Murray puts on a fucking clinic. Each note that rings out from his axe sounds like it fucking owns the place (“Run,” “Visitor: Unimpressed”). Cheap Heat is a smidge front-loaded with “Midnight Ghost” and “I Got Tunnel Vision” being album highlights, but no song on here is anything short of a barn burner. At a super tight 28 minutes, Cheap Heat hits hard and fast and gets the fuck out of Dodge before you’re even sure what hit you. I didn’t expect a 26-year-old hardcore outfit to knock my teeth out when I queued it up on a whim one morning, but Cheap Heat is proving to be one of my favorite albums of the year.

Lead Injector // Witching Attack [February 20th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Who doesn’t like the combination of thrash’s unchained aggression and black metal’s cold hate? There’s never been a better pair. Lead Injector hit the ground running on debut LP Witching Attack. From the opening moments of “Siege Upon Heaven” to the closing moments of “Nuclear Antichrist,” Lead Injector is here to do two things: feed high-speed buckshot to God, skeletons, and anything else that gets in their way, and have a Hellripping good time. “Angel Destructor” and “Siege Upon Heaven” barrel pell-mell through searing riffs and blast beats, while groovier tracks like “Evil Executioner” and “Nuclear Antichrist” let black metal’s punk ancestry shine through. Heavy metal influences a la Judas Priest can be found injected into tracks like “Sacrifice This Bitch” and “M.C.C.I.” While nothing about Lead Injector’s sound is particularly new, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing. This debut is a unique and retro spin on a tried-and-true formula that bodes well for a young band. Witching Attack is a killer time that Ash Williams would gladly spin while boomsticking Deadites alongside Lord Arthur’s army.

For @DXMacGuffin's #ProgTuesday: when you throw #DevinTownsend, #DreamTheater, #GreenCarnation #Haken, #Katatonia, #Opeth, #ShadowGallery, and #SymphonyX into a blender, you get

#Terravia: A New World

https://album.link/k0sghmtnqx9mr

Something familiar, but something different and balanced.
Quite an intro.

One of the biggest challenges I’ve encountered as a music reviewer is trying to describe a band’s musical aesthetic when their discography is all over the place. Now, I know what you’re thinking: Blut Aus Nord, and you would be correct, but at least there’s an intangible thread connecting the various gnarled branches to their undulating, pulsing roots. Vaarwel, the mastermind and sole proprietor of Russia’s Frozen Ocean, takes his project to where it needs to be, and how he feels it should be delivered, musically. Over the course of 11 albums, as well as various EPs and splits, Frozen Ocean follows their own muse, without any musical correlation between them. It’s a big toss-up what you’re going to get per release, and I can’t help but respect the hell out of that.

I just wish it connected with me as well as The Prowess of Dormition did. Whereas Dormition was melodic black metal with a trip-hop undercurrent, Askdrömmar instead flirts with DSBM, rubbing shoulders with a trippier Lifelover bent. Opener “Mangata” leads off with some ambiance before a simple repeated melody takes over, followed by simplistic programmed drums, and finally other instrumentation. Vaarwel adopts more of a black metal rasp this time around, and just as the song starts to go somewhere, everything fades out, and you hear a sample of a young woman talking. Believing this would build to something, it instead leads into “Bortkastade dödsrunor,” the following track… which leads off with another sample.

The majority of what follows is a “wash-rinse-repeat” cycle among the remaining eight tracks, as they all follow a particular pattern: either a sample or piano twinkling, followed by a riff that’s more than a little reminiscent of mid-era Katatonia (“Kottkvam”), an atmospheric moment that sounds like a tremendous build-up that only goes back to the main riff, and then a sudden ending. Things start to get interesting when “Långt lopp genom mörkret” arrives, with its hyperactive keyboards and lively, energetic rhythms, but that’s track #8 of a nine-track album, and that’s just too far in the tracklisting to turn the ship around. Up until then, it’s just too formulaic and repetitive to leave a lasting mark.

The production also doesn’t help matters any, as it’s squashed and flat. The programmed drums sound like they were mixed a bit too far back, whereas the guitars, keyboards, and vocals are in-your-face, and those sound compressed within an inch of their existences. The biggest hurdle of this album lies in its conception and how it ties in with the Frozen Ocean discography. As a fan of Blut Aus Nord, I know mainman Vindsval will write whatever the fuck he feels like, and because of that, BaN’s discography runs the gamut of sounds and styles. However, the big difference is that you can still hear it’s BaN. Vaarwel doesn’t quite have that distinction when it comes to his music, as his releases are so spread out style- and quality-wise that it’s tough to find an underlying thread connecting any of it.

And that sucks to type, because I remember being impressed by The Prowess of Dormition when it released almost a decade ago. While I wasn’t expecting a repeat of that EP, I also wasn’t expecting to be bored by what’s on offer here. Vaarwel is a talented musician with great ideas, but I’m waiting for those ideas to land. With Askdrömmar, I will continue waiting.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 319 kbps mp3
Label: Apocalyptic Witchcraft
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

One of the biggest challenges I’ve encountered as a music reviewer is trying to describe a band’s musical aesthetic when their discography is all over the place. Now, I know what you’re thinking: Blut Aus Nord, and you would be correct, but at least there’s an intangible thread connecting the various gnarled branches to their undulating, pulsing roots. Vaarwel, the mastermind and sole proprietor of Russia’s Frozen Ocean, takes his project to where it needs to be, and how he feels it should be delivered, musically. Over the course of 11 albums, as well as various EPs and splits, Frozen Ocean follows their own muse, without any musical correlation between them. It’s a big toss-up what you’re going to get per release, and I can’t help but respect the hell out of that.

I just wish it connected with me as well as The Prowess of Dormition did. Whereas Dormition was melodic black metal with a trip-hop undercurrent, Askdrömmar instead flirts with DSBM, rubbing shoulders with a trippier Lifelover bent. Opener “Mangata” leads off with some ambiance before a simple repeated melody takes over, followed by simplistic programmed drums, and finally other instrumentation. Vaarwel adopts more of a black metal rasp this time around, and just as the song starts to go somewhere, everything fades out, and you hear a sample of a young woman talking. Believing this would build to something, it instead leads into “Bortkastade dödsrunor,” the following track… which leads off with another sample.

The majority of what follows is a “wash-rinse-repeat” cycle among the remaining eight tracks, as they all follow a particular pattern: either a sample or piano twinkling, followed by a riff that’s more than a little reminiscent of mid-era Katatonia (“Kottkvam”), an atmospheric moment that sounds like a tremendous build-up that only goes back to the main riff, and then a sudden ending. Things start to get interesting when “Långt lopp genom mörkret” arrives, with its hyperactive keyboards and lively, energetic rhythms, but that’s track #8 of a nine-track album, and that’s just too far in the tracklisting to turn the ship around. Up until then, it’s just too formulaic and repetitive to leave a lasting mark.

The production also doesn’t help matters any, as it’s squashed and flat. The programmed drums sound like they were mixed a bit too far back, whereas the guitars, keyboards, and vocals are in-your-face, and those sound compressed within an inch of their existences. The biggest hurdle of this album lies in its conception and how it ties in with the Frozen Ocean discography. As a fan of Blut Aus Nord, I know mainman Vindsval will write whatever the fuck he feels like, and because of that, BaN’s discography runs the gamut of sounds and styles. However, the big difference is that you can still hear it’s BaN. Vaarwel doesn’t quite have that distinction when it comes to his music, as his releases are so spread out style- and quality-wise that it’s tough to find an underlying thread connecting any of it.

And that sucks to type, because I remember being impressed by The Prowess of Dormition when it released almost a decade ago. While I wasn’t expecting a repeat of that EP, I also wasn’t expecting to be bored by what’s on offer here. Vaarwel is a talented musician with great ideas, but I’m waiting for those ideas to land. With Askdrömmar, I will continue waiting.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 319 kbps mp3
Label: Apocalyptic Witchcraft
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

One of the biggest challenges I’ve encountered as a music reviewer is trying to describe a band’s musical aesthetic when their discography is all over the place. Now, I know what you’re thinking: Blut Aus Nord, and you would be correct, but at least there’s an intangible thread connecting the various gnarled branches to their undulating, pulsing roots. Vaarwel, the mastermind and sole proprietor of Russia’s Frozen Ocean, takes his project to where it needs to be, and how he feels it should be delivered, musically. Over the course of 11 albums, as well as various EPs and splits, Frozen Ocean follows their own muse, without any musical correlation between them. It’s a big toss-up what you’re going to get per release, and I can’t help but respect the hell out of that.

I just wish it connected with me as well as The Prowess of Dormition did. Whereas Dormition was melodic black metal with a trip-hop undercurrent, Askdrömmar instead flirts with DSBM, rubbing shoulders with a trippier Lifelover bent. Opener “Mangata” leads off with some ambiance before a simple repeated melody takes over, followed by simplistic programmed drums, and finally other instrumentation. Vaarwel adopts more of a black metal rasp this time around, and just as the song starts to go somewhere, everything fades out, and you hear a sample of a young woman talking. Believing this would build to something, it instead leads into “Bortkastade dödsrunor,” the following track… which leads off with another sample.

The majority of what follows is a “wash-rinse-repeat” cycle among the remaining eight tracks, as they all follow a particular pattern: either a sample or piano twinkling, followed by a riff that’s more than a little reminiscent of mid-era Katatonia (“Kottkvam”), an atmospheric moment that sounds like a tremendous build-up that only goes back to the main riff, and then a sudden ending. Things start to get interesting when “Långt lopp genom mörkret” arrives, with its hyperactive keyboards and lively, energetic rhythms, but that’s track #8 of a nine-track album, and that’s just too far in the tracklisting to turn the ship around. Up until then, it’s just too formulaic and repetitive to leave a lasting mark.

The production also doesn’t help matters any, as it’s squashed and flat. The programmed drums sound like they were mixed a bit too far back, whereas the guitars, keyboards, and vocals are in-your-face, and those sound compressed within an inch of their existences. The biggest hurdle of this album lies in its conception and how it ties in with the Frozen Ocean discography. As a fan of Blut Aus Nord, I know mainman Vindsval will write whatever the fuck he feels like, and because of that, BaN’s discography runs the gamut of sounds and styles. However, the big difference is that you can still hear it’s BaN. Vaarwel doesn’t quite have that distinction when it comes to his music, as his releases are so spread out style- and quality-wise that it’s tough to find an underlying thread connecting any of it.

And that sucks to type, because I remember being impressed by The Prowess of Dormition when it released almost a decade ago. While I wasn’t expecting a repeat of that EP, I also wasn’t expecting to be bored by what’s on offer here. Vaarwel is a talented musician with great ideas, but I’m waiting for those ideas to land. With Askdrömmar, I will continue waiting.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 319 kbps mp3
Label: Apocalyptic Witchcraft
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

One of the biggest challenges I’ve encountered as a music reviewer is trying to describe a band’s musical aesthetic when their discography is all over the place. Now, I know what you’re thinking: Blut Aus Nord, and you would be correct, but at least there’s an intangible thread connecting the various gnarled branches to their undulating, pulsing roots. Vaarwel, the mastermind and sole proprietor of Russia’s Frozen Ocean, takes his project to where it needs to be, and how he feels it should be delivered, musically. Over the course of 11 albums, as well as various EPs and splits, Frozen Ocean follows their own muse, without any musical correlation between them. It’s a big toss-up what you’re going to get per release, and I can’t help but respect the hell out of that.

I just wish it connected with me as well as The Prowess of Dormition did. Whereas Dormition was melodic black metal with a trip-hop undercurrent, Askdrömmar instead flirts with DSBM, rubbing shoulders with a trippier Lifelover bent. Opener “Mangata” leads off with some ambiance before a simple repeated melody takes over, followed by simplistic programmed drums, and finally other instrumentation. Vaarwel adopts more of a black metal rasp this time around, and just as the song starts to go somewhere, everything fades out, and you hear a sample of a young woman talking. Believing this would build to something, it instead leads into “Bortkastade dödsrunor,” the following track… which leads off with another sample.

The majority of what follows is a “wash-rinse-repeat” cycle among the remaining eight tracks, as they all follow a particular pattern: either a sample or piano twinkling, followed by a riff that’s more than a little reminiscent of mid-era Katatonia (“Kottkvam”), an atmospheric moment that sounds like a tremendous build-up that only goes back to the main riff, and then a sudden ending. Things start to get interesting when “Långt lopp genom mörkret” arrives, with its hyperactive keyboards and lively, energetic rhythms, but that’s track #8 of a nine-track album, and that’s just too far in the tracklisting to turn the ship around. Up until then, it’s just too formulaic and repetitive to leave a lasting mark.

The production also doesn’t help matters any, as it’s squashed and flat. The programmed drums sound like they were mixed a bit too far back, whereas the guitars, keyboards, and vocals are in-your-face, and those sound compressed within an inch of their existences. The biggest hurdle of this album lies in its conception and how it ties in with the Frozen Ocean discography. As a fan of Blut Aus Nord, I know mainman Vindsval will write whatever the fuck he feels like, and because of that, BaN’s discography runs the gamut of sounds and styles. However, the big difference is that you can still hear it’s BaN. Vaarwel doesn’t quite have that distinction when it comes to his music, as his releases are so spread out style- and quality-wise that it’s tough to find an underlying thread connecting any of it.

And that sucks to type, because I remember being impressed by The Prowess of Dormition when it released almost a decade ago. While I wasn’t expecting a repeat of that EP, I also wasn’t expecting to be bored by what’s on offer here. Vaarwel is a talented musician with great ideas, but I’m waiting for those ideas to land. With Askdrömmar, I will continue waiting.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 319 kbps mp3
Label: Apocalyptic Witchcraft
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

One of the biggest challenges I’ve encountered as a music reviewer is trying to describe a band’s musical aesthetic when their discography is all over the place. Now, I know what you’re thinking: Blut Aus Nord, and you would be correct, but at least there’s an intangible thread connecting the various gnarled branches to their undulating, pulsing roots. Vaarwel, the mastermind and sole proprietor of Russia’s Frozen Ocean, takes his project to where it needs to be, and how he feels it should be delivered, musically. Over the course of 11 albums, as well as various EPs and splits, Frozen Ocean follows their own muse, without any musical correlation between them. It’s a big toss-up what you’re going to get per release, and I can’t help but respect the hell out of that.

I just wish it connected with me as well as The Prowess of Dormition did. Whereas Dormition was melodic black metal with a trip-hop undercurrent, Askdrömmar instead flirts with DSBM, rubbing shoulders with a trippier Lifelover bent. Opener “Mangata” leads off with some ambiance before a simple repeated melody takes over, followed by simplistic programmed drums, and finally other instrumentation. Vaarwel adopts more of a black metal rasp this time around, and just as the song starts to go somewhere, everything fades out, and you hear a sample of a young woman talking. Believing this would build to something, it instead leads into “Bortkastade dödsrunor,” the following track… which leads off with another sample.

The majority of what follows is a “wash-rinse-repeat” cycle among the remaining eight tracks, as they all follow a particular pattern: either a sample or piano twinkling, followed by a riff that’s more than a little reminiscent of mid-era Katatonia (“Kottkvam”), an atmospheric moment that sounds like a tremendous build-up that only goes back to the main riff, and then a sudden ending. Things start to get interesting when “Långt lopp genom mörkret” arrives, with its hyperactive keyboards and lively, energetic rhythms, but that’s track #8 of a nine-track album, and that’s just too far in the tracklisting to turn the ship around. Up until then, it’s just too formulaic and repetitive to leave a lasting mark.

The production also doesn’t help matters any, as it’s squashed and flat. The programmed drums sound like they were mixed a bit too far back, whereas the guitars, keyboards, and vocals are in-your-face, and those sound compressed within an inch of their existences. The biggest hurdle of this album lies in its conception and how it ties in with the Frozen Ocean discography. As a fan of Blut Aus Nord, I know mainman Vindsval will write whatever the fuck he feels like, and because of that, BaN’s discography runs the gamut of sounds and styles. However, the big difference is that you can still hear it’s BaN. Vaarwel doesn’t quite have that distinction when it comes to his music, as his releases are so spread out style- and quality-wise that it’s tough to find an underlying thread connecting any of it.

And that sucks to type, because I remember being impressed by The Prowess of Dormition when it released almost a decade ago. While I wasn’t expecting a repeat of that EP, I also wasn’t expecting to be bored by what’s on offer here. Vaarwel is a talented musician with great ideas, but I’m waiting for those ideas to land. With Askdrömmar, I will continue waiting.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 319 kbps mp3
Label: Apocalyptic Witchcraft
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

At their very best, the Sweden-by-way-of-globetrotting Soen has produced music ranging from forlorn and mystical to organ-blaring and heart-wrenching. While we often talk about progressive music in terms of its tendency for extravagance and meticulous detail, we skip that many of these artists iterate around ideas that lean insular and lacking broad appeal. By its many definitions, this recontextualizing of rock music has sought to express even more directly the hopes of its creators at whatever cost. But in that pool, bands like Soen have attempted both to attack with this personal expression, in the frenetic footwork of Martin Lopez (ex-Opeth) and the lilting mic mastery of Joel Ekelöf, and lay barbed chorus with these same tools. However, the course of the progressive artist, no matter how light on genre checklist it may be, is one that belongs only to the artist.

Genre definition, of course, doesn’t matter in the face of potent music. On this iterative path toward simplicity—one carved first in large part by Lykaia’s jagged riffage over lockstep rhythm converging with Ekelöf’s growth as the focal point of all crescendos—Soen’s trajectory of snappy runtime, stadium-sized concoctions eschews definitive purity for incessant melody. Enlisting Tony Lindgren again on the board, Reliance mirrors the heavier guitar crunch from Memorial and cements itself with a dual-tone personality—one chunky, modern, a-djent-cent thump (“Discordia” in particular) and another bright, stadium harmonizing wail (“Mercenary,” “Axis,” “Unbound”). In both, Reliance wields immediacy and an ability to frame Ekelöf’s ascending runs in a package trimmed of distracting adornments. This does mean, unfortunately, that returning bassist Stefan Stenberg (last featured on Lotus) finds his spot in the roster less as a Tool-leaning jammer and more of a felt guitar-backing pulse.

Absent a warbling 4-stringer1, its svelte existence, Reliance lands self-similar at its heaviest moments, rendering these intensity climbs rather flat. To the seasoned Soen enjoyer, an air of familiarity surrounds the crawling bounce of “Mercenary” (or “Primal” or “Axis” or “Unbound” or “Draconian”).2 With Ekelöf falling in greater rhythm with the kick-riff patterns that adorn Soen’s compositions, Reliance slides from start to finish with an unsettling ease, these familiar flickers creating a near sense of déjà vu. From the intro whammy dive that explodes against alternate-picked strut to the delicate and multi-tracked vocal harmony that closes “Draconian,” a collage of fist-pumping anthems and lighter-waving crooners flood and fade and only threaten to tether to memory in their low differentiation presentation. Closer “Vellichor,” in that sense, feels awkward in its throwback to a more progressive attack, despite its Floydian guitar weeping and sonorous background accompaniment. Yet its ability to stand out in this presentation, along with other slower tracks like the arena-booming “Huntress” or the ode to angsty heartbreak “Indifferent,” gives Reliance a fighting chance for replayability.

Soen presenting unmistakably as Soen, however, allows Reliance to take chances on lower density arrangements with highlight details that will reward those who do latch on to its vision. Ekelöf himself sits central to many of these diversifying blips, with seconds-long tricks like letting out the gruffest ough in Soen history (“Primal”), pulling higher grit power punches with subtle underlying harmonies (“Discordia”), and finding a goofy smirk in an extra poppy pitch-shifted vocal doubling (“Drifter”). All of these techniques, to those old and new in Soen fandom, spell the potential for differentiation and attachment in a playing field that may appear uniform at first. And, of course, Soen continues to lean on the blaring talents of lead guitarist Cody Ford, whose varied bluesy aplomb never fails to tickle the “classic big solo” part of my listening brain.

Reliance continues to try to paint Soen as a gritty rock band with enough heart and lush detail to carve a unique spot in the popular realm. Soen’s energy still remains in this pursuit, even if the peak tracks of this outing don’t swing as hard as I’d hoped. This sort of comfort, though, keeps Reliance from ever firing a dud, which is an accomplishment now seven albums in. And with warmer and more expressive production than a major act like Alter Bridge3, and with more energy than a related act like Katatonia, Soen exists in a middle-ground identity primed for being a bridge to a wide rock-loving audience, even if Reliance leaves me just to the side nodding in appreciation and curiosity to see who crosses over.



Rating: Good.
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Silver Lining Music
Websites: soenmusic.com | facebook.com/soenmusic
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2026

Back in 2004, an album called Fallout dropped from an unheralded little band called Slumber. It was a lush, gorgeous piece of melodic doom in the vein of early Katatonia, Rapture, and Insomnium, and there was something very special about the moods created within. It remains a beloved album of Yours Steely, and I often wonder why it isn’t better known. Slumber guitarist/songwriter Jari Lindholm would go on to start Enshine, and their Origin and Singulariuty albums took the Slumber aesthetic forward to new soundscapes. Singularity was my Album o’ the Year in 2015, and I still get dragged into its glorious depths at regular intervals. It’s been a long wait for a new Enshine opus as Jari puttered with his ExGenesis and self-titled projects, but word broke in December that a new Enshine was imminent. Elevation was dropped without much fanfare or advanced promo campaigns, so we had to get our greasy mitts on it the same way the filthy masses do. As with past Enshine efforts, Elevation finds Jari Lindholm teamed with Sébastien Pierre, and their classic sound is present, still sitting somewhere between melodoom and melancholic melodeath, and naturally, it’s beautifully rendered. But can it maintain the same high level as the earlier works?

Opener “Shimmering” suggests it can as you’re greeted by the expected cavalcade of opulent trilling leads with melancholic flourishes. Everything is highly polished and bright as the sun, with guitar and keyboards rising and swelling in melodic waves. The music reminds me of modern Insomnium and the mellower moments on Omnium Gatherum’s New World Shadows. Sébastien Pierre provides effective death metal roars that suit the music, and the pieces all fit together well. It’s not the best thing Enshine’s ever done, but it’s pretty damn good. It soon becomes apparent, however, that the opener is one of the most lively tracks on offer. “Heartbliss” has harsher vocals, but they’re wrapped up in a glossy pancake of airy, ethereal melodoom without much in the way of an actual “doom” component to ground things and provide real impact. Jari’s guitar work is ephemeral, stunning, and I could listen to it for days, but the song itself doesn’t stick in my memory. I enjoy it as it floats past, but cannot recall it thereafter. “Where the Sunrise is Felt” self-corrects, providing a beefier riffing foundation, and Sébastien sounds extra spicy here. You still get a deluge of ethereal noodling to float upon, but it’s balanced by some beef, and that makes a difference.

Just as things seem to be moving in the right direction, “Distant Glow” hits with 4 minutes of bright, sugar-coated synthwave devoid of vocals or the slightest edge. It’s moody but dull, and it derails the energy Elevation was beginning to establish. Around this point, it dawned on me that the album is something they could play at a new age spa without disrupting the tranquility or displacing anyone’s chakra. I suppose there’s a place for “spa-metal,” but not on my goddamn property. The remainder of Elevation is loaded with languid, lustrous melodoom with the emphasis on the melo part. I’m reminded of Omnium Gatherum and later era Anathema, and the ravishing sounds are omnipresent, but it’s often sleepy and overly restrained. Here and there, Sébastien or Jari lapses into a whispered delivery, and that choice sums up Elevation as well as anything: it’s dialed-back music designed to avoid any emotion beyond a sullen glaze-over. It’s gorgeous but without real peaks and valleys or much in the way of dramatic impact. Without memorable individual moments, it becomes too easy to lose focus while listening, and the music very quickly slips into the background. Not only does the material tend to sit in the back row of your attention, but the songs tend to bleed together into an ornate, noodly mush. Lovely but unmemorable.

I’m a huge fan of Jari Lindholm’s guitar work, and his brilliance is on display all over Elevation. He has a unique ability to craft such gorgeous and moody guitar lines and layer them in a way that generates a fog of emotion. While his talents are in force here, the end result is less immediate and dynamic than on past works. There’s no shortage of sumptuous leads and delicate solos, but the overall effect is too often lethargy rather than emotional pangs and pulses. A lot of Elevation simply washes over and past me without activating my memory circuits. Jari and Sébastien share vocals, and though Sébastien’s death roars are good, they don’t add as much pop to the material as they could. Sébastien also handles keyboards, and at times his playing becomes a touch cloying and even cheesy. Ultimately, I spend too much time waiting for Jari and/or Sébastien to go harder and provide more oomph to the proceedings, but they rarely do.

Elevation is a gorgeous listen, but there aren’t many songs that I recall once the album ends. It’s a worthwhile listen, and I doubt Enshine could make a bad album, but this really makes me want to spin Singularity or Origin instead. That’s a big bummer for me, and I hope your melo mileage varies. Now go find that Slumber album and learn!

Rating: 3.0/5.01
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: enshine.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/enshine.band
Releases Worldwide: January 3rd, 2026

Maddog

I can’t overstate Enshine’s impact on my music taste. As a teen, I enjoyed melodic death metal, but struggled with the genre’s doomier acts. One day, I stumbled upon Enshine’s 2013 debut Origin. Having never heard of Jari Lindholm’s landmark band Slumber, I came in with few expectations. Eschewing the nondescript riffs that I had come to expect from doom, Origin captivated me with its creative melodies, gigantic climaxes, and synth-laced atmosphere. Most importantly, it brought tears to my eyes. Singularity followed suit in 2015, dragging slightly but hitting hard nonetheless. While Lindholm has released other albums via Exgenesis and his solo work in the interim, Elevation breaks a decade-long silence for Enshine. While it can’t match my first wide-eyed listen through Origin, Elevation is a worthy companion to a sorrowful night.

Enshine has always made every instrument count. Rather than fading into the background, Giannis Koskinas’ (Ocean of Grief) bass steals the show with lively lead melodies (“The Moment”). Conversely, on tracks like “Where the Sunrise Is Felt,” the rhythm section supplies a simple but hefty backbone to steer the song along. Sébastien Pierre’s keyboard is as active as ever, providing both center-stage melodies and a canvas for the other instruments. It’s remarkable how well this works; indeed, the key-heavy instrumental “Distant Glow” is one of Elevation’s most haunting cuts. Pierre and Lindholm’s vocals are unremarkable but get the job done, and the vocal lines are perfectly timed to accentuate the album’s peaks. Of course, while each of these pieces is compelling, Elevation’s guitars are a masterclass. Serving up huge Insomnium riffs, tear-jerking melodies, and minimalist interludes, Lindholm’s guitar work is varied but consistently impressive. Rounded out by a rich tone, Elevation is a full-blown sonic tapestry.

Elevation by Enshine

Enshine’s best work excels in both its climaxes and the journeys between them. Enshine’s riffs are more enormous than ever, with “The Purity of Emptiness” showcasing some pounding specimens. The rhythm section accentuates this riffwork like a thundering heartbeat. Elevation’s melodic peaks are just as lofty, and an explosive guitar solo makes the opener “Shimmering” an early contender for song of the year. As always, Enshine knows when and how to dial it back. For instance, the opening melody of “Heartbliss” serves as a serene counterpoint to the song’s beefier moments, while the closer “Reignite” relieves tension through its sparse midsection. While Elevation often flits masterfully between these extremes, it sometimes fizzles out. The aforementioned “Heartbliss” and “Reignite,” the two longest tracks, both spend their last few minutes in forgettable melodic ramblings. More generally, the album’s back half often settles into a neutral middle ground that neither excites nor calms. Elevation sometimes loses its footing, but most of its runtime is a dexterous volley between aggression and tranquility.

Accordingly, Elevation packs a powerful but inconsistent emotional punch. The most conventional source is the album’s soaring melodies, like those on “Shimmering.” But Enshine’s heart often hides in unlikely spots. “The Moment” hypnotizes the listener with a simple guitar riff, transmutes it into a tragic behemoth, and culminates in rhythmic repetition that evokes Cult of Luna. The key-driven “Distant Glow” remains the album’s most unlikely triumph. By rooting itself in one bittersweet melodic motif, “Distant Glow” evolves seamlessly from a chamomile-infused Infected Mushroom trance to punchy melodeath riffs. The result is a four-minute track that feels like a lifetime, in the best possible way. In contrast, parts of Elevation feel clinical. Songs like “The Purity of Emptiness” rely on interchangeable mid-paced riffs that fade from memory, and even stronger tracks fall into the same age-old trap (“Where the Sunrise Is Felt”). Enshine hasn’t lost their secret sauce, but they have diluted it.

But even more so than usual, I’m an unreliable narrator trapped in the tiniest of prisons. My twelve years with Enshine both paint and taint my perspective. So yes, “Reignite” is Enshine’s worst closer; but that’s because I remember the months I leaned on “Apex” and the friendship I strengthened with “Constellation.” And yes, Elevation sometimes gets lost in meandering riffs; but that sticks out because Origin is the pinnacle of concise melodeath-doom. Enshine’s former glory offers a convenient template for critiquing its follow-ups. In truth, Elevation is an enchanting release from a band that I’d feared would never return. Whether you’re an Enshine addict, a curious first-timer, or even a non-metalhead, Elevation demands and earns your attention.



Rating: 3.5/5.02

Back in 2004, an album called Fallout dropped from an unheralded little band called Slumber. It was a lush, gorgeous piece of melodic doom in the vein of early Katatonia, Rapture, and Insomnium, and there was something very special about the moods created within. It remains a beloved album of Yours Steely, and I often wonder why it isn’t better known. Slumber guitarist/songwriter Jari Lindholm would go on to start Enshine, and their Origin and Singulariuty albums took the Slumber aesthetic forward to new soundscapes. Singularity was my Album o’ the Year in 2015, and I still get dragged into its glorious depths at regular intervals. It’s been a long wait for a new Enshine opus as Jari puttered with his ExGenesis and self-titled projects, but word broke in December that a new Enshine was imminent. Elevation was dropped without much fanfare or advanced promo campaigns, so we had to get our greasy mitts on it the same way the filthy masses do. As with past Enshine efforts, Elevation finds Jari Lindholm teamed with Sébastien Pierre, and their classic sound is present, still sitting somewhere between melodoom and melancholic melodeath, and naturally, it’s beautifully rendered. But can it maintain the same high level as the earlier works?

Opener “Shimmering” suggests it can as you’re greeted by the expected cavalcade of opulent trilling leads with melancholic flourishes. Everything is highly polished and bright as the sun, with guitar and keyboards rising and swelling in melodic waves. The music reminds me of modern Insomnium and the mellower moments on Omnium Gatherum’s New World Shadows. Sébastien Pierre provides effective death metal roars that suit the music, and the pieces all fit together well. It’s not the best thing Enshine’s ever done, but it’s pretty damn good. It soon becomes apparent, however, that the opener is one of the most lively tracks on offer. “Heartbliss” has harsher vocals, but they’re wrapped up in a glossy pancake of airy, ethereal melodoom without much in the way of an actual “doom” component to ground things and provide real impact. Jari’s guitar work is ephemeral, stunning, and I could listen to it for days, but the song itself doesn’t stick in my memory. I enjoy it as it floats past, but cannot recall it thereafter. “Where the Sunrise is Felt” self-corrects, providing a beefier riffing foundation, and Sébastien sounds extra spicy here. You still get a deluge of ethereal noodling to float upon, but it’s balanced by some beef, and that makes a difference.

Just as things seem to be moving in the right direction, “Distant Glow” hits with 4 minutes of bright, sugar-coated synthwave devoid of vocals or the slightest edge. It’s moody but dull, and it derails the energy Elevation was beginning to establish. Around this point, it dawned on me that the album is something they could play at a new age spa without disrupting the tranquility or displacing anyone’s chakra. I suppose there’s a place for “spa-metal,” but not on my goddamn property. The remainder of Elevation is loaded with languid, lustrous melodoom with the emphasis on the melo part. I’m reminded of Omnium Gatherum and later era Anathema, and the ravishing sounds are omnipresent, but it’s often sleepy and overly restrained. Here and there, Sébastien or Jari lapses into a whispered delivery, and that choice sums up Elevation as well as anything: it’s dialed-back music designed to avoid any emotion beyond a sullen glaze-over. It’s gorgeous but without real peaks and valleys or much in the way of dramatic impact. Without memorable individual moments, it becomes too easy to lose focus while listening, and the music very quickly slips into the background. Not only does the material tend to sit in the back row of your attention, but the songs tend to bleed together into an ornate, noodly mush. Lovely but unmemorable.

I’m a huge fan of Jari Lindholm’s guitar work, and his brilliance is on display all over Elevation. He has a unique ability to craft such gorgeous and moody guitar lines and layer them in a way that generates a fog of emotion. While his talents are in force here, the end result is less immediate and dynamic than on past works. There’s no shortage of sumptuous leads and delicate solos, but the overall effect is too often lethargy rather than emotional pangs and pulses. A lot of Elevation simply washes over and past me without activating my memory circuits. Jari and Sébastien share vocals, and though Sébastien’s death roars are good, they don’t add as much pop to the material as they could. Sébastien also handles keyboards, and at times his playing becomes a touch cloying and even cheesy. Ultimately, I spend too much time waiting for Jari and/or Sébastien to go harder and provide more oomph to the proceedings, but they rarely do.

Elevation is a gorgeous listen, but there aren’t many songs that I recall once the album ends. It’s a worthwhile listen, and I doubt Enshine could make a bad album, but this really makes me want to spin Singularity or Origin instead. That’s a big bummer for me, and I hope your melo mileage varies. Now go find that Slumber album and learn!

Rating: 3.0/5.01
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: enshine.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/enshine.band
Releases Worldwide: January 3rd, 2026

Maddog

I can’t overstate Enshine’s impact on my music taste. As a teen, I enjoyed melodic death metal, but struggled with the genre’s doomier acts. One day, I stumbled upon Enshine’s 2013 debut Origin. Having never heard of Jari Lindholm’s landmark band Slumber, I came in with few expectations. Eschewing the nondescript riffs that I had come to expect from doom, Origin captivated me with its creative melodies, gigantic climaxes, and synth-laced atmosphere. Most importantly, it brought tears to my eyes. Singularity followed suit in 2015, dragging slightly but hitting hard nonetheless. While Lindholm has released other albums via Exgenesis and his solo work in the interim, Elevation breaks a decade-long silence for Enshine. While it can’t match my first wide-eyed listen through Origin, Elevation is a worthy companion to a sorrowful night.

Enshine has always made every instrument count. Rather than fading into the background, Giannis Koskinas’ (Ocean of Grief) bass steals the show with lively lead melodies (“The Moment”). Conversely, on tracks like “Where the Sunrise Is Felt,” the rhythm section supplies a simple but hefty backbone to steer the song along. Sébastien Pierre’s keyboard is as active as ever, providing both center-stage melodies and a canvas for the other instruments. It’s remarkable how well this works; indeed, the key-heavy instrumental “Distant Glow” is one of Elevation’s most haunting cuts. Pierre and Lindholm’s vocals are unremarkable but get the job done, and the vocal lines are perfectly timed to accentuate the album’s peaks. Of course, while each of these pieces is compelling, Elevation’s guitars are a masterclass. Serving up huge Insomnium riffs, tear-jerking melodies, and minimalist interludes, Lindholm’s guitar work is varied but consistently impressive. Rounded out by a rich tone, Elevation is a full-blown sonic tapestry.

Elevation by Enshine

Enshine’s best work excels in both its climaxes and the journeys between them. Enshine’s riffs are more enormous than ever, with “The Purity of Emptiness” showcasing some pounding specimens. The rhythm section accentuates this riffwork like a thundering heartbeat. Elevation’s melodic peaks are just as lofty, and an explosive guitar solo makes the opener “Shimmering” an early contender for song of the year. As always, Enshine knows when and how to dial it back. For instance, the opening melody of “Heartbliss” serves as a serene counterpoint to the song’s beefier moments, while the closer “Reignite” relieves tension through its sparse midsection. While Elevation often flits masterfully between these extremes, it sometimes fizzles out. The aforementioned “Heartbliss” and “Reignite,” the two longest tracks, both spend their last few minutes in forgettable melodic ramblings. More generally, the album’s back half often settles into a neutral middle ground that neither excites nor calms. Elevation sometimes loses its footing, but most of its runtime is a dexterous volley between aggression and tranquility.

Accordingly, Elevation packs a powerful but inconsistent emotional punch. The most conventional source is the album’s soaring melodies, like those on “Shimmering.” But Enshine’s heart often hides in unlikely spots. “The Moment” hypnotizes the listener with a simple guitar riff, transmutes it into a tragic behemoth, and culminates in rhythmic repetition that evokes Cult of Luna. The key-driven “Distant Glow” remains the album’s most unlikely triumph. By rooting itself in one bittersweet melodic motif, “Distant Glow” evolves seamlessly from a chamomile-infused Infected Mushroom trance to punchy melodeath riffs. The result is a four-minute track that feels like a lifetime, in the best possible way. In contrast, parts of Elevation feel clinical. Songs like “The Purity of Emptiness” rely on interchangeable mid-paced riffs that fade from memory, and even stronger tracks fall into the same age-old trap (“Where the Sunrise Is Felt”). Enshine hasn’t lost their secret sauce, but they have diluted it.

But even more so than usual, I’m an unreliable narrator trapped in the tiniest of prisons. My twelve years with Enshine both paint and taint my perspective. So yes, “Reignite” is Enshine’s worst closer; but that’s because I remember the months I leaned on “Apex” and the friendship I strengthened with “Constellation.” And yes, Elevation sometimes gets lost in meandering riffs; but that sticks out because Origin is the pinnacle of concise melodeath-doom. Enshine’s former glory offers a convenient template for critiquing its follow-ups. In truth, Elevation is an enchanting release from a band that I’d feared would never return. Whether you’re an Enshine addict, a curious first-timer, or even a non-metalhead, Elevation demands and earns your attention.



Rating: 3.5/5.02

Back in 2004, an album called Fallout dropped from an unheralded little band called Slumber. It was a lush, gorgeous piece of melodic doom in the vein of early Katatonia, Rapture, and Insomnium, and there was something very special about the moods created within. It remains a beloved album of Yours Steely, and I often wonder why it isn’t better known. Slumber guitarist/songwriter Jari Lindholm would go on to start Enshine, and their Origin and Singulariuty albums took the Slumber aesthetic forward to new soundscapes. Singularity was my Album o’ the Year in 2015, and I still get dragged into its glorious depths at regular intervals. It’s been a long wait for a new Enshine opus as Jari puttered with his ExGenesis and self-titled projects, but word broke in December that a new Enshine was imminent. Elevation was dropped without much fanfare or advanced promo campaigns, so we had to get our greasy mitts on it the same way the filthy masses do. As with past Enshine efforts, Elevation finds Jari Lindholm teamed with Sébastien Pierre, and their classic sound is present, still sitting somewhere between melodoom and melancholic melodeath, and naturally, it’s beautifully rendered. But can it maintain the same high level as the earlier works?

Opener “Shimmering” suggests it can as you’re greeted by the expected cavalcade of opulent trilling leads with melancholic flourishes. Everything is highly polished and bright as the sun, with guitar and keyboards rising and swelling in melodic waves. The music reminds me of modern Insomnium and the mellower moments on Omnium Gatherum’s New World Shadows. Sébastien Pierre provides effective death metal roars that suit the music, and the pieces all fit together well. It’s not the best thing Enshine’s ever done, but it’s pretty damn good. It soon becomes apparent, however, that the opener is one of the most lively tracks on offer. “Heartbliss” has harsher vocals, but they’re wrapped up in a glossy pancake of airy, ethereal melodoom without much in the way of an actual “doom” component to ground things and provide real impact. Jari’s guitar work is ephemeral, stunning, and I could listen to it for days, but the song itself doesn’t stick in my memory. I enjoy it as it floats past, but cannot recall it thereafter. “Where the Sunrise is Felt” self-corrects, providing a beefier riffing foundation, and Sébastien sounds extra spicy here. You still get a deluge of ethereal noodling to float upon, but it’s balanced by some beef, and that makes a difference.

Just as things seem to be moving in the right direction, “Distant Glow” hits with 4 minutes of bright, sugar-coated synthwave devoid of vocals or the slightest edge. It’s moody but dull, and it derails the energy Elevation was beginning to establish. Around this point, it dawned on me that the album is something they could play at a new age spa without disrupting the tranquility or displacing anyone’s chakra. I suppose there’s a place for “spa-metal,” but not on my goddamn property. The remainder of Elevation is loaded with languid, lustrous melodoom with the emphasis on the melo part. I’m reminded of Omnium Gatherum and later era Anathema, and the ravishing sounds are omnipresent, but it’s often sleepy and overly restrained. Here and there, Sébastien or Jari lapses into a whispered delivery, and that choice sums up Elevation as well as anything: it’s dialed-back music designed to avoid any emotion beyond a sullen glaze-over. It’s gorgeous but without real peaks and valleys or much in the way of dramatic impact. Without memorable individual moments, it becomes too easy to lose focus while listening, and the music very quickly slips into the background. Not only does the material tend to sit in the back row of your attention, but the songs tend to bleed together into an ornate, noodly mush. Lovely but unmemorable.

I’m a huge fan of Jari Lindholm’s guitar work, and his brilliance is on display all over Elevation. He has a unique ability to craft such gorgeous and moody guitar lines and layer them in a way that generates a fog of emotion. While his talents are in force here, the end result is less immediate and dynamic than on past works. There’s no shortage of sumptuous leads and delicate solos, but the overall effect is too often lethargy rather than emotional pangs and pulses. A lot of Elevation simply washes over and past me without activating my memory circuits. Jari and Sébastien share vocals, and though Sébastien’s death roars are good, they don’t add as much pop to the material as they could. Sébastien also handles keyboards, and at times his playing becomes a touch cloying and even cheesy. Ultimately, I spend too much time waiting for Jari and/or Sébastien to go harder and provide more oomph to the proceedings, but they rarely do.

Elevation is a gorgeous listen, but there aren’t many songs that I recall once the album ends. It’s a worthwhile listen, and I doubt Enshine could make a bad album, but this really makes me want to spin Singularity or Origin instead. That’s a big bummer for me, and I hope your melo mileage varies. Now go find that Slumber album and learn!

Rating: 3.0/5.01
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: enshine.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/enshine.band
Releases Worldwide: January 3rd, 2026

Maddog

I can’t overstate Enshine’s impact on my music taste. As a teen, I enjoyed melodic death metal, but struggled with the genre’s doomier acts. One day, I stumbled upon Enshine’s 2013 debut Origin. Having never heard of Jari Lindholm’s landmark band Slumber, I came in with few expectations. Eschewing the nondescript riffs that I had come to expect from doom, Origin captivated me with its creative melodies, gigantic climaxes, and synth-laced atmosphere. Most importantly, it brought tears to my eyes. Singularity followed suit in 2015, dragging slightly but hitting hard nonetheless. While Lindholm has released other albums via Exgenesis and his solo work in the interim, Elevation breaks a decade-long silence for Enshine. While it can’t match my first wide-eyed listen through Origin, Elevation is a worthy companion to a sorrowful night.

Enshine has always made every instrument count. Rather than fading into the background, Giannis Koskinas’ (Ocean of Grief) bass steals the show with lively lead melodies (“The Moment”). Conversely, on tracks like “Where the Sunrise Is Felt,” the rhythm section supplies a simple but hefty backbone to steer the song along. Sébastien Pierre’s keyboard is as active as ever, providing both center-stage melodies and a canvas for the other instruments. It’s remarkable how well this works; indeed, the key-heavy instrumental “Distant Glow” is one of Elevation’s most haunting cuts. Pierre and Lindholm’s vocals are unremarkable but get the job done, and the vocal lines are perfectly timed to accentuate the album’s peaks. Of course, while each of these pieces is compelling, Elevation’s guitars are a masterclass. Serving up huge Insomnium riffs, tear-jerking melodies, and minimalist interludes, Lindholm’s guitar work is varied but consistently impressive. Rounded out by a rich tone, Elevation is a full-blown sonic tapestry.

Elevation by Enshine

Enshine’s best work excels in both its climaxes and the journeys between them. Enshine’s riffs are more enormous than ever, with “The Purity of Emptiness” showcasing some pounding specimens. The rhythm section accentuates this riffwork like a thundering heartbeat. Elevation’s melodic peaks are just as lofty, and an explosive guitar solo makes the opener “Shimmering” an early contender for song of the year. As always, Enshine knows when and how to dial it back. For instance, the opening melody of “Heartbliss” serves as a serene counterpoint to the song’s beefier moments, while the closer “Reignite” relieves tension through its sparse midsection. While Elevation often flits masterfully between these extremes, it sometimes fizzles out. The aforementioned “Heartbliss” and “Reignite,” the two longest tracks, both spend their last few minutes in forgettable melodic ramblings. More generally, the album’s back half often settles into a neutral middle ground that neither excites nor calms. Elevation sometimes loses its footing, but most of its runtime is a dexterous volley between aggression and tranquility.

Accordingly, Elevation packs a powerful but inconsistent emotional punch. The most conventional source is the album’s soaring melodies, like those on “Shimmering.” But Enshine’s heart often hides in unlikely spots. “The Moment” hypnotizes the listener with a simple guitar riff, transmutes it into a tragic behemoth, and culminates in rhythmic repetition that evokes Cult of Luna. The key-driven “Distant Glow” remains the album’s most unlikely triumph. By rooting itself in one bittersweet melodic motif, “Distant Glow” evolves seamlessly from a chamomile-infused Infected Mushroom trance to punchy melodeath riffs. The result is a four-minute track that feels like a lifetime, in the best possible way. In contrast, parts of Elevation feel clinical. Songs like “The Purity of Emptiness” rely on interchangeable mid-paced riffs that fade from memory, and even stronger tracks fall into the same age-old trap (“Where the Sunrise Is Felt”). Enshine hasn’t lost their secret sauce, but they have diluted it.

But even more so than usual, I’m an unreliable narrator trapped in the tiniest of prisons. My twelve years with Enshine both paint and taint my perspective. So yes, “Reignite” is Enshine’s worst closer; but that’s because I remember the months I leaned on “Apex” and the friendship I strengthened with “Constellation.” And yes, Elevation sometimes gets lost in meandering riffs; but that sticks out because Origin is the pinnacle of concise melodeath-doom. Enshine’s former glory offers a convenient template for critiquing its follow-ups. In truth, Elevation is an enchanting release from a band that I’d feared would never return. Whether you’re an Enshine addict, a curious first-timer, or even a non-metalhead, Elevation demands and earns your attention.



Rating: 3.5/5.02

Back in 2004, an album called Fallout dropped from an unheralded little band called Slumber. It was a lush, gorgeous piece of melodic doom in the vein of early Katatonia, Rapture, and Insomnium, and there was something very special about the moods created within. It remains a beloved album of Yours Steely, and I often wonder why it isn’t better known. Slumber guitarist/songwriter Jari Lindholm would go on to start Enshine, and their Origin and Singulariuty albums took the Slumber aesthetic forward to new soundscapes. Singularity was my Album o’ the Year in 2015, and I still get dragged into its glorious depths at regular intervals. It’s been a long wait for a new Enshine opus as Jari puttered with his ExGenesis and self-titled projects, but word broke in December that a new Enshine was imminent. Elevation was dropped without much fanfare or advanced promo campaigns, so we had to get our greasy mitts on it the same way the filthy masses do. As with past Enshine efforts, Elevation finds Jari Lindholm teamed with Sébastien Pierre, and their classic sound is present, still sitting somewhere between melodoom and melancholic melodeath, and naturally, it’s beautifully rendered. But can it maintain the same high level as the earlier works?

Opener “Shimmering” suggests it can as you’re greeted by the expected cavalcade of opulent trilling leads with melancholic flourishes. Everything is highly polished and bright as the sun, with guitar and keyboards rising and swelling in melodic waves. The music reminds me of modern Insomnium and the mellower moments on Omnium Gatherum’s New World Shadows. Sébastien Pierre provides effective death metal roars that suit the music, and the pieces all fit together well. It’s not the best thing Enshine’s ever done, but it’s pretty damn good. It soon becomes apparent, however, that the opener is one of the most lively tracks on offer. “Heartbliss” has harsher vocals, but they’re wrapped up in a glossy pancake of airy, ethereal melodoom without much in the way of an actual “doom” component to ground things and provide real impact. Jari’s guitar work is ephemeral, stunning, and I could listen to it for days, but the song itself doesn’t stick in my memory. I enjoy it as it floats past, but cannot recall it thereafter. “Where the Sunrise is Felt” self-corrects, providing a beefier riffing foundation, and Sébastien sounds extra spicy here. You still get a deluge of ethereal noodling to float upon, but it’s balanced by some beef, and that makes a difference.

Just as things seem to be moving in the right direction, “Distant Glow” hits with 4 minutes of bright, sugar-coated synthwave devoid of vocals or the slightest edge. It’s moody but dull, and it derails the energy Elevation was beginning to establish. Around this point, it dawned on me that the album is something they could play at a new age spa without disrupting the tranquility or displacing anyone’s chakra. I suppose there’s a place for “spa-metal,” but not on my goddamn property. The remainder of Elevation is loaded with languid, lustrous melodoom with the emphasis on the melo part. I’m reminded of Omnium Gatherum and later era Anathema, and the ravishing sounds are omnipresent, but it’s often sleepy and overly restrained. Here and there, Sébastien or Jari lapses into a whispered delivery, and that choice sums up Elevation as well as anything: it’s dialed-back music designed to avoid any emotion beyond a sullen glaze-over. It’s gorgeous but without real peaks and valleys or much in the way of dramatic impact. Without memorable individual moments, it becomes too easy to lose focus while listening, and the music very quickly slips into the background. Not only does the material tend to sit in the back row of your attention, but the songs tend to bleed together into an ornate, noodly mush. Lovely but unmemorable.

I’m a huge fan of Jari Lindholm’s guitar work, and his brilliance is on display all over Elevation. He has a unique ability to craft such gorgeous and moody guitar lines and layer them in a way that generates a fog of emotion. While his talents are in force here, the end result is less immediate and dynamic than on past works. There’s no shortage of sumptuous leads and delicate solos, but the overall effect is too often lethargy rather than emotional pangs and pulses. A lot of Elevation simply washes over and past me without activating my memory circuits. Jari and Sébastien share vocals, and though Sébastien’s death roars are good, they don’t add as much pop to the material as they could. Sébastien also handles keyboards, and at times his playing becomes a touch cloying and even cheesy. Ultimately, I spend too much time waiting for Jari and/or Sébastien to go harder and provide more oomph to the proceedings, but they rarely do.

Elevation is a gorgeous listen, but there aren’t many songs that I recall once the album ends. It’s a worthwhile listen, and I doubt Enshine could make a bad album, but this really makes me want to spin Singularity or Origin instead. That’s a big bummer for me, and I hope your melo mileage varies. Now go find that Slumber album and learn!

Rating: 3.0/5.01
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: enshine.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/enshine.band
Releases Worldwide: January 3rd, 2026

Maddog

I can’t overstate Enshine’s impact on my music taste. As a teen, I enjoyed melodic death metal, but struggled with the genre’s doomier acts. One day, I stumbled upon Enshine’s 2013 debut Origin. Having never heard of Jari Lindholm’s landmark band Slumber, I came in with few expectations. Eschewing the nondescript riffs that I had come to expect from doom, Origin captivated me with its creative melodies, gigantic climaxes, and synth-laced atmosphere. Most importantly, it brought tears to my eyes. Singularity followed suit in 2015, dragging slightly but hitting hard nonetheless. While Lindholm has released other albums via Exgenesis and his solo work in the interim, Elevation breaks a decade-long silence for Enshine. While it can’t match my first wide-eyed listen through Origin, Elevation is a worthy companion to a sorrowful night.

Enshine has always made every instrument count. Rather than fading into the background, Giannis Koskinas’ (Ocean of Grief) bass steals the show with lively lead melodies (“The Moment”). Conversely, on tracks like “Where the Sunrise Is Felt,” the rhythm section supplies a simple but hefty backbone to steer the song along. Sébastien Pierre’s keyboard is as active as ever, providing both center-stage melodies and a canvas for the other instruments. It’s remarkable how well this works; indeed, the key-heavy instrumental “Distant Glow” is one of Elevation’s most haunting cuts. Pierre and Lindholm’s vocals are unremarkable but get the job done, and the vocal lines are perfectly timed to accentuate the album’s peaks. Of course, while each of these pieces is compelling, Elevation’s guitars are a masterclass. Serving up huge Insomnium riffs, tear-jerking melodies, and minimalist interludes, Lindholm’s guitar work is varied but consistently impressive. Rounded out by a rich tone, Elevation is a full-blown sonic tapestry.

Elevation by Enshine

Enshine’s best work excels in both its climaxes and the journeys between them. Enshine’s riffs are more enormous than ever, with “The Purity of Emptiness” showcasing some pounding specimens. The rhythm section accentuates this riffwork like a thundering heartbeat. Elevation’s melodic peaks are just as lofty, and an explosive guitar solo makes the opener “Shimmering” an early contender for song of the year. As always, Enshine knows when and how to dial it back. For instance, the opening melody of “Heartbliss” serves as a serene counterpoint to the song’s beefier moments, while the closer “Reignite” relieves tension through its sparse midsection. While Elevation often flits masterfully between these extremes, it sometimes fizzles out. The aforementioned “Heartbliss” and “Reignite,” the two longest tracks, both spend their last few minutes in forgettable melodic ramblings. More generally, the album’s back half often settles into a neutral middle ground that neither excites nor calms. Elevation sometimes loses its footing, but most of its runtime is a dexterous volley between aggression and tranquility.

Accordingly, Elevation packs a powerful but inconsistent emotional punch. The most conventional source is the album’s soaring melodies, like those on “Shimmering.” But Enshine’s heart often hides in unlikely spots. “The Moment” hypnotizes the listener with a simple guitar riff, transmutes it into a tragic behemoth, and culminates in rhythmic repetition that evokes Cult of Luna. The key-driven “Distant Glow” remains the album’s most unlikely triumph. By rooting itself in one bittersweet melodic motif, “Distant Glow” evolves seamlessly from a chamomile-infused Infected Mushroom trance to punchy melodeath riffs. The result is a four-minute track that feels like a lifetime, in the best possible way. In contrast, parts of Elevation feel clinical. Songs like “The Purity of Emptiness” rely on interchangeable mid-paced riffs that fade from memory, and even stronger tracks fall into the same age-old trap (“Where the Sunrise Is Felt”). Enshine hasn’t lost their secret sauce, but they have diluted it.

But even more so than usual, I’m an unreliable narrator trapped in the tiniest of prisons. My twelve years with Enshine both paint and taint my perspective. So yes, “Reignite” is Enshine’s worst closer; but that’s because I remember the months I leaned on “Apex” and the friendship I strengthened with “Constellation.” And yes, Elevation sometimes gets lost in meandering riffs; but that sticks out because Origin is the pinnacle of concise melodeath-doom. Enshine’s former glory offers a convenient template for critiquing its follow-ups. In truth, Elevation is an enchanting release from a band that I’d feared would never return. Whether you’re an Enshine addict, a curious first-timer, or even a non-metalhead, Elevation demands and earns your attention.



Rating: 3.5/5.02

Back in 2004, an album called Fallout dropped from an unheralded little band called Slumber. It was a lush, gorgeous piece of melodic doom in the vein of early Katatonia, Rapture, and Insomnium, and there was something very special about the moods created within. It remains a beloved album of Yours Steely, and I often wonder why it isn’t better known. Slumber guitarist/songwriter Jari Lindholm would go on to start Enshine, and their Origin and Singulariuty albums took the Slumber aesthetic forward to new soundscapes. Singularity was my Album o’ the Year in 2015, and I still get dragged into its glorious depths at regular intervals. It’s been a long wait for a new Enshine opus as Jari puttered with his ExGenesis and self-titled projects, but word broke in December that a new Enshine was imminent. Elevation was dropped without much fanfare or advanced promo campaigns, so we had to get our greasy mitts on it the same way the filthy masses do. As with past Enshine efforts, Elevation finds Jari Lindholm teamed with Sébastien Pierre, and their classic sound is present, still sitting somewhere between melodoom and melancholic melodeath, and naturally, it’s beautifully rendered. But can it maintain the same high level as the earlier works?

Opener “Shimmering” suggests it can as you’re greeted by the expected cavalcade of opulent trilling leads with melancholic flourishes. Everything is highly polished and bright as the sun, with guitar and keyboards rising and swelling in melodic waves. The music reminds me of modern Insomnium and the mellower moments on Omnium Gatherum’s New World Shadows. Sébastien Pierre provides effective death metal roars that suit the music, and the pieces all fit together well. It’s not the best thing Enshine’s ever done, but it’s pretty damn good. It soon becomes apparent, however, that the opener is one of the most lively tracks on offer. “Heartbliss” has harsher vocals, but they’re wrapped up in a glossy pancake of airy, ethereal melodoom without much in the way of an actual “doom” component to ground things and provide real impact. Jari’s guitar work is ephemeral, stunning, and I could listen to it for days, but the song itself doesn’t stick in my memory. I enjoy it as it floats past, but cannot recall it thereafter. “Where the Sunrise is Felt” self-corrects, providing a beefier riffing foundation, and Sébastien sounds extra spicy here. You still get a deluge of ethereal noodling to float upon, but it’s balanced by some beef, and that makes a difference.

Just as things seem to be moving in the right direction, “Distant Glow” hits with 4 minutes of bright, sugar-coated synthwave devoid of vocals or the slightest edge. It’s moody but dull, and it derails the energy Elevation was beginning to establish. Around this point, it dawned on me that the album is something they could play at a new age spa without disrupting the tranquility or displacing anyone’s chakra. I suppose there’s a place for “spa-metal,” but not on my goddamn property. The remainder of Elevation is loaded with languid, lustrous melodoom with the emphasis on the melo part. I’m reminded of Omnium Gatherum and later era Anathema, and the ravishing sounds are omnipresent, but it’s often sleepy and overly restrained. Here and there, Sébastien or Jari lapses into a whispered delivery, and that choice sums up Elevation as well as anything: it’s dialed-back music designed to avoid any emotion beyond a sullen glaze-over. It’s gorgeous but without real peaks and valleys or much in the way of dramatic impact. Without memorable individual moments, it becomes too easy to lose focus while listening, and the music very quickly slips into the background. Not only does the material tend to sit in the back row of your attention, but the songs tend to bleed together into an ornate, noodly mush. Lovely but unmemorable.

I’m a huge fan of Jari Lindholm’s guitar work, and his brilliance is on display all over Elevation. He has a unique ability to craft such gorgeous and moody guitar lines and layer them in a way that generates a fog of emotion. While his talents are in force here, the end result is less immediate and dynamic than on past works. There’s no shortage of sumptuous leads and delicate solos, but the overall effect is too often lethargy rather than emotional pangs and pulses. A lot of Elevation simply washes over and past me without activating my memory circuits. Jari and Sébastien share vocals, and though Sébastien’s death roars are good, they don’t add as much pop to the material as they could. Sébastien also handles keyboards, and at times his playing becomes a touch cloying and even cheesy. Ultimately, I spend too much time waiting for Jari and/or Sébastien to go harder and provide more oomph to the proceedings, but they rarely do.

Elevation is a gorgeous listen, but there aren’t many songs that I recall once the album ends. It’s a worthwhile listen, and I doubt Enshine could make a bad album, but this really makes me want to spin Singularity or Origin instead. That’s a big bummer for me, and I hope your melo mileage varies. Now go find that Slumber album and learn!

Rating: 3.0/5.01
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: enshine.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/enshine.band
Releases Worldwide: January 3rd, 2026

Maddog

I can’t overstate Enshine’s impact on my music taste. As a teen, I enjoyed melodic death metal, but struggled with the genre’s doomier acts. One day, I stumbled upon Enshine’s 2013 debut Origin. Having never heard of Jari Lindholm’s landmark band Slumber, I came in with few expectations. Eschewing the nondescript riffs that I had come to expect from doom, Origin captivated me with its creative melodies, gigantic climaxes, and synth-laced atmosphere. Most importantly, it brought tears to my eyes. Singularity followed suit in 2015, dragging slightly but hitting hard nonetheless. While Lindholm has released other albums via Exgenesis and his solo work in the interim, Elevation breaks a decade-long silence for Enshine. While it can’t match my first wide-eyed listen through Origin, Elevation is a worthy companion to a sorrowful night.

Enshine has always made every instrument count. Rather than fading into the background, Giannis Koskinas’ (Ocean of Grief) bass steals the show with lively lead melodies (“The Moment”). Conversely, on tracks like “Where the Sunrise Is Felt,” the rhythm section supplies a simple but hefty backbone to steer the song along. Sébastien Pierre’s keyboard is as active as ever, providing both center-stage melodies and a canvas for the other instruments. It’s remarkable how well this works; indeed, the key-heavy instrumental “Distant Glow” is one of Elevation’s most haunting cuts. Pierre and Lindholm’s vocals are unremarkable but get the job done, and the vocal lines are perfectly timed to accentuate the album’s peaks. Of course, while each of these pieces is compelling, Elevation’s guitars are a masterclass. Serving up huge Insomnium riffs, tear-jerking melodies, and minimalist interludes, Lindholm’s guitar work is varied but consistently impressive. Rounded out by a rich tone, Elevation is a full-blown sonic tapestry.

Elevation by Enshine

Enshine’s best work excels in both its climaxes and the journeys between them. Enshine’s riffs are more enormous than ever, with “The Purity of Emptiness” showcasing some pounding specimens. The rhythm section accentuates this riffwork like a thundering heartbeat. Elevation’s melodic peaks are just as lofty, and an explosive guitar solo makes the opener “Shimmering” an early contender for song of the year. As always, Enshine knows when and how to dial it back. For instance, the opening melody of “Heartbliss” serves as a serene counterpoint to the song’s beefier moments, while the closer “Reignite” relieves tension through its sparse midsection. While Elevation often flits masterfully between these extremes, it sometimes fizzles out. The aforementioned “Heartbliss” and “Reignite,” the two longest tracks, both spend their last few minutes in forgettable melodic ramblings. More generally, the album’s back half often settles into a neutral middle ground that neither excites nor calms. Elevation sometimes loses its footing, but most of its runtime is a dexterous volley between aggression and tranquility.

Accordingly, Elevation packs a powerful but inconsistent emotional punch. The most conventional source is the album’s soaring melodies, like those on “Shimmering.” But Enshine’s heart often hides in unlikely spots. “The Moment” hypnotizes the listener with a simple guitar riff, transmutes it into a tragic behemoth, and culminates in rhythmic repetition that evokes Cult of Luna. The key-driven “Distant Glow” remains the album’s most unlikely triumph. By rooting itself in one bittersweet melodic motif, “Distant Glow” evolves seamlessly from a chamomile-infused Infected Mushroom trance to punchy melodeath riffs. The result is a four-minute track that feels like a lifetime, in the best possible way. In contrast, parts of Elevation feel clinical. Songs like “The Purity of Emptiness” rely on interchangeable mid-paced riffs that fade from memory, and even stronger tracks fall into the same age-old trap (“Where the Sunrise Is Felt”). Enshine hasn’t lost their secret sauce, but they have diluted it.

But even more so than usual, I’m an unreliable narrator trapped in the tiniest of prisons. My twelve years with Enshine both paint and taint my perspective. So yes, “Reignite” is Enshine’s worst closer; but that’s because I remember the months I leaned on “Apex” and the friendship I strengthened with “Constellation.” And yes, Elevation sometimes gets lost in meandering riffs; but that sticks out because Origin is the pinnacle of concise melodeath-doom. Enshine’s former glory offers a convenient template for critiquing its follow-ups. In truth, Elevation is an enchanting release from a band that I’d feared would never return. Whether you’re an Enshine addict, a curious first-timer, or even a non-metalhead, Elevation demands and earns your attention.



Rating: 3.5/5.02

Calva Louise – Edge of the Abyss Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Genre is a funny thing. Calva Louise will almost certainly be called “Crossover.” Their sound is a combination of elements that, if I read each one individually, would make me cringe or shrug my shoulders. Seen grouped on the page, I might ask, “How would that even work?” What I wouldn’t expect is an album that excites me. The kind of excitement that drives one to spin the record again immediately. The kind of excitement that leads to sharing the record with anyone who will listen and lengthy discussions of the details of whether someone else noticed the Fleshgod Apocalypse piano arpeggios in track four.1 But Edge of the Abyss is a rare record that manages to feel wild, unpredictable, and yet addictive—evocative—all at once. And while it’s apparently a concept album, the real story that I’m following is the one told in the songs that add up to something greater than the sum of their parts.

The strength of Edge of the Abyss lies in its fusions, and I mean that in every sense. Calva Louise doesn’t blend styles; they smash them together. “Tunnel Vision” rips open the record with a sugar-rush hook, bouncing within three minutes from pop-chorus to dubstep drop to metallic groove. “W.T.F.” is exactly that: frenetic, agitated, and punky. “Aimless,” the album’s first single, is a real highlight, threading unpredictable melodies, classical piano runs, and crunchy metal riffage into something that feels like “Justice for Saint Marie” (Diablo Swing Orchestra) but with a dembow beat.2 Each song can be emphasized for such moments: “Hate in Me” swaps between Katatonia and Kate Bush without skipping a beat; “Under the Skin” gives Lacuna Coil while “Barely a Response” blends 3/Coheed and Cambria and Muse to create something that just vibes right—blending proggy post-punk with The Fall of Hearts.

The balancing act is accomplished by Edge of the Abyss being extremely well-composed. These songs, while poppy—slick, catchy, memorable—aren’t glued together Frankenpop. Instead, they’re meticulously assembled homunculi, each with its own little soul.3 There’s a sense throughout the first half of this record that you’re listening to something much more thoughtful than its surface chaos might suggest. I might be imagining things, but this is where frontwoman and primary composer Jess Allanic’s background in composition seems to play a major role. The fact that Calva Louise can evoke so many different bands, sounds, and seamlessly traverse genre boundaries in seconds—from harmonized vocals over Latin folk beats to crunchy groove to house in moments (“El Umbral”)—without seeming scattered speaks to a deep understanding of music.4

You can feel that deep understanding of music in Edge of the Abyss’s most daring material: its multilingual, rhythmically tangled, and emotionally exposed core. “Lo Que Vale,” which may be my favorite song, strips things back enough to let Allanic’s small-but-commanding voice—reminiscent of Catalina García (Monsieur Periné)—to shine. “Impeccable” evokes The Kovenant’s “New World Order” before erupting into harmonized guitar leads and New Wave vibes. These are songs with giant choruses, and while Allanic has a remarkable presence and extremely deft melodic sense, she never dominates the mix. Whether screaming, speaking, or singing, her voice is expertly integrated, capable of balancing Kate Bush and Jonas Renkse depending on where she is in a song (“Hate in Me”), with harmonic sensibilities that bring me back to 3‘s The End Is Begun. Her presence does for Calva Louise what Serj Tankian did for System of a Down or Trim for King Goat. But unlike the aforementioned vocalists, she’s playing guitar, piano, and writing songs.

Edge of the Abyss is not perfect, however. First, the record’s energy flags a bit in the back half, where “The Abyss” pulls its punches and “Under the Skin” leans too hard on its mid-tempo groove. Nothing here fails, but the band’s frenetic, genre-defying dynamism seems more concentrated in the first six tracks. Still, even at its weakest, Edge of the Abyss brims with detail—piano breaks, synth arpeggios, key changes—that keep it from feeling inert. And repeated listens have only deepened my appreciation for these later tracks. If the front half is where Calva Louise erupts, the back half is where the ash is beginning to fall. Second, while there is supposedly a concept here, I have no idea what it is. In the tradition of Coheed & Cambria, who famously have a massive story but lyrics that read like “girl doesn’t like boy and boy gets mad about it,” a lot of this just reads as angst.

Some records sound big, and some records feel big. Edge of the Abyss does both.5 It feels big because it has ideas, and it succeeds because it commits to those ideas with zero regard for genre gatekeeping, scene politics, or what guys like me think is cool. It’s weird, catchy, and gleefully sophisticated, with every song bringing something unique to the table. Every arrangement counts. It’s a banger parade, and it’s hard not to feel like it’s also smart as hell. Is it perfect? No. But it’s addictive, it’s fun, and it’s going to be the most controversial Record o’ the Month since Gazpacho.

Rating: Great!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Mascot Records
Websites: calvalouise.com | calvalouise.bandcamp.com
Release Date: July 11th, 2025

#2025 #40 #CalvaLouise #CoheedAndCambria #crossover #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Dubstep #EdgeOfTheAbyss #Electronica #GrooveMetal #Jul25 #Katatonia #KateBush #KingGoat #MascotLabelGroup #MascotRecords #Metalcore #MonsieurPeriné #Muse #PopLatino #ProgressiveMetal #SystemOfADown #TheKovenant #Three #UKMetal

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#BraveWords
Today In Metal History 🤘 August 31st, 2024🤘
SCORPIONS, GENE HOGLAN, DEATH, MEGADETH, LAMB OF GOD, EX DEO

https://bravewords.com/news/today-in-metal-history-august-31st-2024-scorpions-gene-hoglan-death-megadeth-lamb-of-god-ex-deo

#Scorpions #GeneHoglan #Death #Megadeth #LambOfGod #ExDeo #RudolfSchenker #RogerDean #DavidTChastain #RebBeach #KrisNorris #Testament #FearFactory #Dethklock #StrappingYoungLad #DarkAngel #Katatonia #Rush #CephalicCarnage #Murderdolls #10Years #TheAutumnOffering #ForToday #TheWordAlive #Avulsed #Ektomorf #Threshold #PhantomX

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#BraveWords
Today In Metal History 🤘 August 31st, 2024🤘
SCORPIONS, GENE HOGLAN, DEATH, MEGADETH, LAMB OF GOD, EX DEO

https://bravewords.com/news/today-in-metal-history-august-31st-2024-scorpions-gene-hoglan-death-megadeth-lamb-of-god-ex-deo

#Scorpions #GeneHoglan #Death #Megadeth #LambOfGod #ExDeo #RudolfSchenker #RogerDean #DavidTChastain #RebBeach #KrisNorris #Testament #FearFactory #Dethklock #StrappingYoungLad #DarkAngel #Katatonia #Rush #CephalicCarnage #Murderdolls #10Years #TheAutumnOffering #ForToday #TheWordAlive #Avulsed #Ektomorf #Threshold #PhantomX

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#BraveWords
Today In Metal History 🤘 August 31st, 2024🤘
SCORPIONS, GENE HOGLAN, DEATH, MEGADETH, LAMB OF GOD, EX DEO

https://bravewords.com/news/today-in-metal-history-august-31st-2024-scorpions-gene-hoglan-death-megadeth-lamb-of-god-ex-deo

#Scorpions #GeneHoglan #Death #Megadeth #LambOfGod #ExDeo #RudolfSchenker #RogerDean #DavidTChastain #RebBeach #KrisNorris #Testament #FearFactory #Dethklock #StrappingYoungLad #DarkAngel #Katatonia #Rush #CephalicCarnage #Murderdolls #10Years #TheAutumnOffering #ForToday #TheWordAlive #Avulsed #Ektomorf #Threshold #PhantomX

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#BraveWords
Today In Metal History 🤘 August 31st, 2024🤘
SCORPIONS, GENE HOGLAN, DEATH, MEGADETH, LAMB OF GOD, EX DEO

https://bravewords.com/news/today-in-metal-history-august-31st-2024-scorpions-gene-hoglan-death-megadeth-lamb-of-god-ex-deo

#Scorpions #GeneHoglan #Death #Megadeth #LambOfGod #ExDeo #RudolfSchenker #RogerDean #DavidTChastain #RebBeach #KrisNorris #Testament #FearFactory #Dethklock #StrappingYoungLad #DarkAngel #Katatonia #Rush #CephalicCarnage #Murderdolls #10Years #TheAutumnOffering #ForToday #TheWordAlive #Avulsed #Ektomorf #Threshold #PhantomX

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#BraveWords
Today In Metal History 🤘 August 31st, 2024🤘
SCORPIONS, GENE HOGLAN, DEATH, MEGADETH, LAMB OF GOD, EX DEO

https://bravewords.com/news/today-in-metal-history-august-31st-2024-scorpions-gene-hoglan-death-megadeth-lamb-of-god-ex-deo

#Scorpions #GeneHoglan #Death #Megadeth #LambOfGod #ExDeo #RudolfSchenker #RogerDean #DavidTChastain #RebBeach #KrisNorris #Testament #FearFactory #Dethklock #StrappingYoungLad #DarkAngel #Katatonia #Rush #CephalicCarnage #Murderdolls #10Years #TheAutumnOffering #ForToday #TheWordAlive #Avulsed #Ektomorf #Threshold #PhantomX

Appreciating #JuniHabel this early morning as I anticipate Friday’s new #music releases. On deck are we #RyuichiSakamoto, #theMurderCapital, and #Katatonia. #love