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Sallow Moth – Hydrophilous Brood Review

Less than a year after delivering one of my favorite albums of 2025, Sallow Moth flutters in to…
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https://www.europesays.com/uk/1107516/ Sallow Moth – Hydrophilous Brood Review #2026 #40 #AmericanMetal #Cynic #DeathMetal #Entertainment #HydrophilousBrood #Jul26 #LabyrinthineHeirs #Lureplasm #music #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SallowMoth #Thaetas #UK #UnitedKingdom #WillowtipRecords

Less than a year after delivering one of my favorite albums of 2025,1 Sallow Moth flutters in to unload another monstrous helping of progressive death metal. Thematically, Hydrophilous Brood continues exploring the quantum entanglements of the Mossbane Lantern, a capriciously powerful artifact that can transport users across planes of existence—often with horrific consequences. I thoroughly enjoyed this backdrop on Mossbane Lantern, and learning that Sallow Moth’s new platter would once again fathom the inscrutable fickleness of the Lantern made me equal parts giddy and nervous. With expectations unfairly inflated, I slipped off my skivvies to bathe in the marvels of Hydrophilous Brood.

Compared to Mossbane Lantern, Hydrophilous Brood luxuriates in murkier, more organic tones than its predecessor. Largely, the differences between them condense into two observations. First, Garry Brents’ addition of drummer Allen Gingerich pays off big time. Second, most of the electronic embellishments heard on Mossbane Lantern have dwindled significantly, even though their spirit periodically reemerges via guitar or bass reprisals. What stands out most against Mossbane Lantern is the new LP’s commitment to more traditional instrumentation, even if the compositions themselves remain wildly unpredictable. Rather than abrupt shifts between crushing death metal, trip hop shimmers, and electronica-infused breaks, Hydrophilous Brood suggests most of these moods without pulling the rug out from listeners, and the end result impresses with more streamlined, delightfully lawless musical hooliganism.

Performance-wise, Sallow Moth doesn’t miss a beat as Brents and Gingerich glide through Hydrophilous Brood’s runtime. Most immediately, Gingerich’s drums supply an enormous boost to Sallow Moth’s compositions. The percussive elements on Mossbane Lantern never disappointed, yet Hydrophilous Brood quickly reinforces the magic that a skilled technician can add. Robotic rolls and precision snare abuse (“Driftmoth Vivisector”) may give the impression of programmed drums, but Gingerich also imparts slick sticksmanship and jazzy spasms (“Polymorphic Gnaw,” “Serene Aqueous Leech”) that leave me reeling with whiplashing wonder. In addition to the drums, Gingerich discharges a couple of guitar solos on “Arcane Benthic Umbilicus” and “Polymorphic Gnaw” that hew closer to more traditional fretwork, adding further depth to Sallow Moth’s arrangements. Brents, meanwhile, rekindles the aural anarchy from Mossbane Lantern, especially the crisply shred-infested riffing interspersed with brief passages of Cynical bass noodling and subtle synth atmospherics. Vocally, Brents strikes with a varied attack, assaulting listeners with brown-note toilet burps in line with this year’s Lureplasm (“Nebulous Appendages of Vacillant Seafoam,” “Polymorphic Gnaw”),2 aggrieved caveman roars (“Arcane Benthic Umbilicus”), and several brief guest cameos, including Corey Peterson (Thætas) and Evan Sadler (Labyrinthine Heirs).

In all, Sallow Moth throws a dizzying spread of instrumentation at listeners, making Hydrophilous Brood so dense and tangled that it can be difficult to navigate at first. It’s a bit like a several-thousand-piece puzzle, where the first listen is just flipping all the pieces over the right way. With more time, though, the album takes shape and reveals the overarching vision beneath the madness. Melodic phrases regularly trade the spotlight with tumultuous chugs and squealing guitars, never allowing songs to lock in before lurching to the next. I understand how it can be jarring, but catching the quick-flitting melodies as they dance to the fore then fade into the background without dissipating altogether demands appreciation. Thematically, the whimsical nature of the Mossbane Lantern artifact persists on Hydrophilous Brood, exerting wicked fun throughout.

After delivering one of my favorite death metal slabs of 2025, Sallow Moth follows up with another gloriously depraved contender. As I reflect on the music I’ve loved over the last couple of years, I find that what appeals to me mostly falls into one of two camps: flawless executions of proven recipes and novel explorations of metal. Sallow Moth lands squarely in the latter, and though novelty for its own sake often falls flat, the stories embedded within Hydrophilous Brood amplify the music, giving form to its chaos. Sure, there are things I miss from Mossbane Lantern, particularly the electronica-infused injections, and there are things I wish had been utilized more, like Ola’s noir-coded trumpet on “Serene Aqueous Leech.” Yet in the end, my critical comments mostly boil down to what I wish they’d done more of rather than faulting what they did. It takes patience to unravel and appreciate Sallow Moth’s latest, but after marinating in its waters for spins on end, I’m unashamedly glued to the Brood.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: July 24th, 2026

Less than a year after delivering one of my favorite albums of 2025,1 Sallow Moth flutters in to unload another monstrous helping of progressive death metal. Thematically, Hydrophilous Brood continues exploring the quantum entanglements of the Mossbane Lantern, a capriciously powerful artifact that can transport users across planes of existence—often with horrific consequences. I thoroughly enjoyed this backdrop on Mossbane Lantern, and learning that Sallow Moth’s new platter would once again fathom the inscrutable fickleness of the Lantern made me equal parts giddy and nervous. With expectations unfairly inflated, I slipped off my skivvies to bathe in the marvels of Hydrophilous Brood.

Compared to Mossbane Lantern, Hydrophilous Brood luxuriates in murkier, more organic tones than its predecessor. Largely, the differences between them condense into two observations. First, Garry Brents’ addition of drummer Allen Gingerich pays off big time. Second, most of the electronic embellishments heard on Mossbane Lantern have dwindled significantly, even though their spirit periodically reemerges via guitar or bass reprisals. What stands out most against Mossbane Lantern is the new LP’s commitment to more traditional instrumentation, even if the compositions themselves remain wildly unpredictable. Rather than abrupt shifts between crushing death metal, trip hop shimmers, and electronica-infused breaks, Hydrophilous Brood suggests most of these moods without pulling the rug out from listeners, and the end result impresses with more streamlined, delightfully lawless musical hooliganism.

Performance-wise, Sallow Moth doesn’t miss a beat as Brents and Gingerich glide through Hydrophilous Brood’s runtime. Most immediately, Gingerich’s drums supply an enormous boost to Sallow Moth’s compositions. The percussive elements on Mossbane Lantern never disappointed, yet Hydrophilous Brood quickly reinforces the magic that a skilled technician can add. Robotic rolls and precision snare abuse (“Driftmoth Vivisector”) may give the impression of programmed drums, but Gingerich also imparts slick sticksmanship and jazzy spasms (“Polymorphic Gnaw,” “Serene Aqueous Leech”) that leave me reeling with whiplashing wonder. In addition to the drums, Gingerich discharges a couple of guitar solos on “Arcane Benthic Umbilicus” and “Polymorphic Gnaw” that hew closer to more traditional fretwork, adding further depth to Sallow Moth’s arrangements. Brents, meanwhile, rekindles the aural anarchy from Mossbane Lantern, especially the crisply shred-infested riffing interspersed with brief passages of Cynical bass noodling and subtle synth atmospherics. Vocally, Brents strikes with a varied attack, assaulting listeners with brown-note toilet burps in line with this year’s Lureplasm (“Nebulous Appendages of Vacillant Seafoam,” “Polymorphic Gnaw”),2 aggrieved caveman roars (“Arcane Benthic Umbilicus”), and several brief guest cameos, including Corey Peterson (Thætas) and Evan Sadler (Labyrinthine Heirs).

In all, Sallow Moth throws a dizzying spread of instrumentation at listeners, making Hydrophilous Brood so dense and tangled that it can be difficult to navigate at first. It’s a bit like a several-thousand-piece puzzle, where the first listen is just flipping all the pieces over the right way. With more time, though, the album takes shape and reveals the overarching vision beneath the madness. Melodic phrases regularly trade the spotlight with tumultuous chugs and squealing guitars, never allowing songs to lock in before lurching to the next. I understand how it can be jarring, but catching the quick-flitting melodies as they dance to the fore then fade into the background without dissipating altogether demands appreciation. Thematically, the whimsical nature of the Mossbane Lantern artifact persists on Hydrophilous Brood, exerting wicked fun throughout.

After delivering one of my favorite death metal slabs of 2025, Sallow Moth follows up with another gloriously depraved contender. As I reflect on the music I’ve loved over the last couple of years, I find that what appeals to me mostly falls into one of two camps: flawless executions of proven recipes and novel explorations of metal. Sallow Moth lands squarely in the latter, and though novelty for its own sake often falls flat, the stories embedded within Hydrophilous Brood amplify the music, giving form to its chaos. Sure, there are things I miss from Mossbane Lantern, particularly the electronica-infused injections, and there are things I wish had been utilized more, like Ola’s noir-coded trumpet on “Serene Aqueous Leech.” Yet in the end, my critical comments mostly boil down to what I wish they’d done more of rather than faulting what they did. It takes patience to unravel and appreciate Sallow Moth’s latest, but after marinating in its waters for spins on end, I’m unashamedly glued to the Brood.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: July 24th, 2026

Less than a year after delivering one of my favorite albums of 2025,1 Sallow Moth flutters in to unload another monstrous helping of progressive death metal. Thematically, Hydrophilous Brood continues exploring the quantum entanglements of the Mossbane Lantern, a capriciously powerful artifact that can transport users across planes of existence—often with horrific consequences. I thoroughly enjoyed this backdrop on Mossbane Lantern, and learning that Sallow Moth’s new platter would once again fathom the inscrutable fickleness of the Lantern made me equal parts giddy and nervous. With expectations unfairly inflated, I slipped off my skivvies to bathe in the marvels of Hydrophilous Brood.

Compared to Mossbane Lantern, Hydrophilous Brood luxuriates in murkier, more organic tones than its predecessor. Largely, the differences between them condense into two observations. First, Garry Brents’ addition of drummer Allen Gingerich pays off big time. Second, most of the electronic embellishments heard on Mossbane Lantern have dwindled significantly, even though their spirit periodically reemerges via guitar or bass reprisals. What stands out most against Mossbane Lantern is the new LP’s commitment to more traditional instrumentation, even if the compositions themselves remain wildly unpredictable. Rather than abrupt shifts between crushing death metal, trip hop shimmers, and electronica-infused breaks, Hydrophilous Brood suggests most of these moods without pulling the rug out from listeners, and the end result impresses with more streamlined, delightfully lawless musical hooliganism.

Performance-wise, Sallow Moth doesn’t miss a beat as Brents and Gingerich glide through Hydrophilous Brood’s runtime. Most immediately, Gingerich’s drums supply an enormous boost to Sallow Moth’s compositions. The percussive elements on Mossbane Lantern never disappointed, yet Hydrophilous Brood quickly reinforces the magic that a skilled technician can add. Robotic rolls and precision snare abuse (“Driftmoth Vivisector”) may give the impression of programmed drums, but Gingerich also imparts slick sticksmanship and jazzy spasms (“Polymorphic Gnaw,” “Serene Aqueous Leech”) that leave me reeling with whiplashing wonder. In addition to the drums, Gingerich discharges a couple of guitar solos on “Arcane Benthic Umbilicus” and “Polymorphic Gnaw” that hew closer to more traditional fretwork, adding further depth to Sallow Moth’s arrangements. Brents, meanwhile, rekindles the aural anarchy from Mossbane Lantern, especially the crisply shred-infested riffing interspersed with brief passages of Cynical bass noodling and subtle synth atmospherics. Vocally, Brents strikes with a varied attack, assaulting listeners with brown-note toilet burps in line with this year’s Lureplasm (“Nebulous Appendages of Vacillant Seafoam,” “Polymorphic Gnaw”),2 aggrieved caveman roars (“Arcane Benthic Umbilicus”), and several brief guest cameos, including Corey Peterson (Thætas) and Evan Sadler (Labyrinthine Heirs).

In all, Sallow Moth throws a dizzying spread of instrumentation at listeners, making Hydrophilous Brood so dense and tangled that it can be difficult to navigate at first. It’s a bit like a several-thousand-piece puzzle, where the first listen is just flipping all the pieces over the right way. With more time, though, the album takes shape and reveals the overarching vision beneath the madness. Melodic phrases regularly trade the spotlight with tumultuous chugs and squealing guitars, never allowing songs to lock in before lurching to the next. I understand how it can be jarring, but catching the quick-flitting melodies as they dance to the fore then fade into the background without dissipating altogether demands appreciation. Thematically, the whimsical nature of the Mossbane Lantern artifact persists on Hydrophilous Brood, exerting wicked fun throughout.

After delivering one of my favorite death metal slabs of 2025, Sallow Moth follows up with another gloriously depraved contender. As I reflect on the music I’ve loved over the last couple of years, I find that what appeals to me mostly falls into one of two camps: flawless executions of proven recipes and novel explorations of metal. Sallow Moth lands squarely in the latter, and though novelty for its own sake often falls flat, the stories embedded within Hydrophilous Brood amplify the music, giving form to its chaos. Sure, there are things I miss from Mossbane Lantern, particularly the electronica-infused injections, and there are things I wish had been utilized more, like Ola’s noir-coded trumpet on “Serene Aqueous Leech.” Yet in the end, my critical comments mostly boil down to what I wish they’d done more of rather than faulting what they did. It takes patience to unravel and appreciate Sallow Moth’s latest, but after marinating in its waters for spins on end, I’m unashamedly glued to the Brood.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: July 24th, 2026

Less than a year after delivering one of my favorite albums of 2025,1 Sallow Moth flutters in to unload another monstrous helping of progressive death metal. Thematically, Hydrophilous Brood continues exploring the quantum entanglements of the Mossbane Lantern, a capriciously powerful artifact that can transport users across planes of existence—often with horrific consequences. I thoroughly enjoyed this backdrop on Mossbane Lantern, and learning that Sallow Moth’s new platter would once again fathom the inscrutable fickleness of the Lantern made me equal parts giddy and nervous. With expectations unfairly inflated, I slipped off my skivvies to bathe in the marvels of Hydrophilous Brood.

Compared to Mossbane Lantern, Hydrophilous Brood luxuriates in murkier, more organic tones than its predecessor. Largely, the differences between them condense into two observations. First, Garry Brents’ addition of drummer Allen Gingerich pays off big time. Second, most of the electronic embellishments heard on Mossbane Lantern have dwindled significantly, even though their spirit periodically reemerges via guitar or bass reprisals. What stands out most against Mossbane Lantern is the new LP’s commitment to more traditional instrumentation, even if the compositions themselves remain wildly unpredictable. Rather than abrupt shifts between crushing death metal, trip hop shimmers, and electronica-infused breaks, Hydrophilous Brood suggests most of these moods without pulling the rug out from listeners, and the end result impresses with more streamlined, delightfully lawless musical hooliganism.

Performance-wise, Sallow Moth doesn’t miss a beat as Brents and Gingerich glide through Hydrophilous Brood’s runtime. Most immediately, Gingerich’s drums supply an enormous boost to Sallow Moth’s compositions. The percussive elements on Mossbane Lantern never disappointed, yet Hydrophilous Brood quickly reinforces the magic that a skilled technician can add. Robotic rolls and precision snare abuse (“Driftmoth Vivisector”) may give the impression of programmed drums, but Gingerich also imparts slick sticksmanship and jazzy spasms (“Polymorphic Gnaw,” “Serene Aqueous Leech”) that leave me reeling with whiplashing wonder. In addition to the drums, Gingerich discharges a couple of guitar solos on “Arcane Benthic Umbilicus” and “Polymorphic Gnaw” that hew closer to more traditional fretwork, adding further depth to Sallow Moth’s arrangements. Brents, meanwhile, rekindles the aural anarchy from Mossbane Lantern, especially the crisply shred-infested riffing interspersed with brief passages of Cynical bass noodling and subtle synth atmospherics. Vocally, Brents strikes with a varied attack, assaulting listeners with brown-note toilet burps in line with this year’s Lureplasm (“Nebulous Appendages of Vacillant Seafoam,” “Polymorphic Gnaw”),2 aggrieved caveman roars (“Arcane Benthic Umbilicus”), and several brief guest cameos, including Corey Peterson (Thætas) and Evan Sadler (Labyrinthine Heirs).

In all, Sallow Moth throws a dizzying spread of instrumentation at listeners, making Hydrophilous Brood so dense and tangled that it can be difficult to navigate at first. It’s a bit like a several-thousand-piece puzzle, where the first listen is just flipping all the pieces over the right way. With more time, though, the album takes shape and reveals the overarching vision beneath the madness. Melodic phrases regularly trade the spotlight with tumultuous chugs and squealing guitars, never allowing songs to lock in before lurching to the next. I understand how it can be jarring, but catching the quick-flitting melodies as they dance to the fore then fade into the background without dissipating altogether demands appreciation. Thematically, the whimsical nature of the Mossbane Lantern artifact persists on Hydrophilous Brood, exerting wicked fun throughout.

After delivering one of my favorite death metal slabs of 2025, Sallow Moth follows up with another gloriously depraved contender. As I reflect on the music I’ve loved over the last couple of years, I find that what appeals to me mostly falls into one of two camps: flawless executions of proven recipes and novel explorations of metal. Sallow Moth lands squarely in the latter, and though novelty for its own sake often falls flat, the stories embedded within Hydrophilous Brood amplify the music, giving form to its chaos. Sure, there are things I miss from Mossbane Lantern, particularly the electronica-infused injections, and there are things I wish had been utilized more, like Ola’s noir-coded trumpet on “Serene Aqueous Leech.” Yet in the end, my critical comments mostly boil down to what I wish they’d done more of rather than faulting what they did. It takes patience to unravel and appreciate Sallow Moth’s latest, but after marinating in its waters for spins on end, I’m unashamedly glued to the Brood.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: July 24th, 2026

Less than a year after delivering one of my favorite albums of 2025,1 Sallow Moth flutters in to unload another monstrous helping of progressive death metal. Thematically, Hydrophilous Brood continues exploring the quantum entanglements of the Mossbane Lantern, a capriciously powerful artifact that can transport users across planes of existence—often with horrific consequences. I thoroughly enjoyed this backdrop on Mossbane Lantern, and learning that Sallow Moth’s new platter would once again fathom the inscrutable fickleness of the Lantern made me equal parts giddy and nervous. With expectations unfairly inflated, I slipped off my skivvies to bathe in the marvels of Hydrophilous Brood.

Compared to Mossbane Lantern, Hydrophilous Brood luxuriates in murkier, more organic tones than its predecessor. Largely, the differences between them condense into two observations. First, Garry Brents’ addition of drummer Allen Gingerich pays off big time. Second, most of the electronic embellishments heard on Mossbane Lantern have dwindled significantly, even though their spirit periodically reemerges via guitar or bass reprisals. What stands out most against Mossbane Lantern is the new LP’s commitment to more traditional instrumentation, even if the compositions themselves remain wildly unpredictable. Rather than abrupt shifts between crushing death metal, trip hop shimmers, and electronica-infused breaks, Hydrophilous Brood suggests most of these moods without pulling the rug out from listeners, and the end result impresses with more streamlined, delightfully lawless musical hooliganism.

Performance-wise, Sallow Moth doesn’t miss a beat as Brents and Gingerich glide through Hydrophilous Brood’s runtime. Most immediately, Gingerich’s drums supply an enormous boost to Sallow Moth’s compositions. The percussive elements on Mossbane Lantern never disappointed, yet Hydrophilous Brood quickly reinforces the magic that a skilled technician can add. Robotic rolls and precision snare abuse (“Driftmoth Vivisector”) may give the impression of programmed drums, but Gingerich also imparts slick sticksmanship and jazzy spasms (“Polymorphic Gnaw,” “Serene Aqueous Leech”) that leave me reeling with whiplashing wonder. In addition to the drums, Gingerich discharges a couple of guitar solos on “Arcane Benthic Umbilicus” and “Polymorphic Gnaw” that hew closer to more traditional fretwork, adding further depth to Sallow Moth’s arrangements. Brents, meanwhile, rekindles the aural anarchy from Mossbane Lantern, especially the crisply shred-infested riffing interspersed with brief passages of Cynical bass noodling and subtle synth atmospherics. Vocally, Brents strikes with a varied attack, assaulting listeners with brown-note toilet burps in line with this year’s Lureplasm (“Nebulous Appendages of Vacillant Seafoam,” “Polymorphic Gnaw”),2 aggrieved caveman roars (“Arcane Benthic Umbilicus”), and several brief guest cameos, including Corey Peterson (Thætas) and Evan Sadler (Labyrinthine Heirs).

In all, Sallow Moth throws a dizzying spread of instrumentation at listeners, making Hydrophilous Brood so dense and tangled that it can be difficult to navigate at first. It’s a bit like a several-thousand-piece puzzle, where the first listen is just flipping all the pieces over the right way. With more time, though, the album takes shape and reveals the overarching vision beneath the madness. Melodic phrases regularly trade the spotlight with tumultuous chugs and squealing guitars, never allowing songs to lock in before lurching to the next. I understand how it can be jarring, but catching the quick-flitting melodies as they dance to the fore then fade into the background without dissipating altogether demands appreciation. Thematically, the whimsical nature of the Mossbane Lantern artifact persists on Hydrophilous Brood, exerting wicked fun throughout.

After delivering one of my favorite death metal slabs of 2025, Sallow Moth follows up with another gloriously depraved contender. As I reflect on the music I’ve loved over the last couple of years, I find that what appeals to me mostly falls into one of two camps: flawless executions of proven recipes and novel explorations of metal. Sallow Moth lands squarely in the latter, and though novelty for its own sake often falls flat, the stories embedded within Hydrophilous Brood amplify the music, giving form to its chaos. Sure, there are things I miss from Mossbane Lantern, particularly the electronica-infused injections, and there are things I wish had been utilized more, like Ola’s noir-coded trumpet on “Serene Aqueous Leech.” Yet in the end, my critical comments mostly boil down to what I wish they’d done more of rather than faulting what they did. It takes patience to unravel and appreciate Sallow Moth’s latest, but after marinating in its waters for spins on end, I’m unashamedly glued to the Brood.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: July 24th, 2026

Labyrinthine Heirs – Labyrinthine Heirs Review

By Tyme

Eclectic Texan quartet Labyrinthine Heirs is ready to float their self-titled debut album, partnered with I, Voidhanger Records, which has one of the most diverse rosters in the metalverse. All four musicians come from different musical walks of life, and given the label partner, I expected that the music on Labyrinthine Heirs would be off-kilter at a minimum. With Léon François Comerre’s excellent cover painting in view but very little to go on by way of Labyrinthine Heirs‘ history, I was intrigued by the promo blurb, which quoted vocalist Evan Sadler as saying, ‘The plan was to marry the sound of Touch and Go Records artists like The Jesus Lizard and Shellac with that of Celtic Frost and Virus.’ I was a big fan of Goat in the 90s and love Celtic Frost to this day, so I was excited to hear how Labyrinthine Heirs would attempt to pull this feat off.

Apropos and in keeping with I, Voidhanger tradition, the Labyrinthine Heirs‘ sound, an alternative mix of blackish death metal, presents a descriptive sticky wicket. Comparisons with The Jesus Lizard are valid here, and a fair amount of Written in Waters era Ved Buens Ende is at play.1 Samuel Kang’s (Cathexis) guitar work is distinctly crisp, full of plucky riffs (“Brick Refusers Quartered”), cascading shimmers of dissonance, and circusy leads (“The Loop of Human Flesh Told in Perpetuity”). In lock-step accompaniment is the slap-happy bass work of Bryan Camphire (ex Bloody Panda) and the understated drumming of Anthony Brownlow, all three creating a hypnotizing flow over which vocalist Evan Sadler can drape his raspy, spoken-word delivery. Labyrinthine Heirs certainly sounds impressive, but one of the problems with hypnosis is that the subject eventually falls asleep.

Colin Marston’s master of Labyrinthine Heirs is warm and inviting, highlighting the interplay between the guitars and rhythm section while providing enough wide, organic spaces to hear every separate instrument on its own and simultaneously. Like how a dog can smell each ingredient in that stew on your stovetop individually while still smelling the whole thing. The opening track, “Brick Refusers Quartered,” with the guitar and bass playfully splashing in puddles of dissonance, pulls you immediately into Labyrinthine Heirs‘ web and ushers you through the next thirty-seven minutes. Sadler strays from his go-to mono-rasp to bring some ear-catching dynamism in the form of screeching screams, vomits, chokes, and coughs (“The Loop of Human Flesh Told in Perpetuity,” “The Conceited Determination of Nimrod”) and this reminds me of the vocals from some of Nattefrost‘s nastier solo work at times. I was also thankful for these moments since they were some of the few to rouse me from my slumberous hypnosis.

Labyrinthine Heirs packs a fair number of ideas into Labyrinthine Heirs‘ five tracks.2 The biggest problem is that nearly every idea sounds the same. In its entirety, Labyrinthine Heirs never strays from the sonic palette introduced on the opening track. Nearly every time I arrived at the fifth and final song, “Yaldabaoth Gored to Blindness,” I was surprised to discover that almost 30 minutes of music had passed with nary a blip on my radar of interest to show for it, which brings us to the crux of my problem with Labyrinthine Heirs debut, and that is its overwhelming sense of similitude. All five songs suffer from reciprocating guitar techniques that, combined with the steady slap n’ tap bass, reserved drums, and raspily spoken lyrics, shroud the whole in a drone-like pall.

My relationship with I, Voidhanger, Records, is like a series of coin flips. There always seems to be a fifty-fifty chance I’ll enjoy what I hear or be equally content to let it pass. I’ve found many gems (Creature, Neptunian Maximalism, Yhdarl), to name a few, but I’ve discovered stinkers that balance the equation for each one. Labyrinthine Heirs may be deserving of their I, Voidhanger, roster spot. However, I don’t find this debut engaging enough to keep my attention, so I can’t fully recommend it. There are flashes on Labyrinthine Heirs that will have me on the lookout for its follow-up, but I prefer to pass on this.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger Records | Facebook
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 28th, 2025

#25 #2025 #AlternativeMetal #AmericanMetal #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #IVoidhangerRecords #LabyrinthineHeirs #Mar2025 #Review #TheJesusLizard #VedBuensEnde

Labyrinthine Heirs – Labyrinthine Heirs Review

By Tyme

Eclectic Texan quartet Labyrinthine Heirs is ready to float their self-titled debut album, partnered with I, Voidhanger Records, which has one of the most diverse rosters in the metalverse. All four musicians come from different musical walks of life, and given the label partner, I expected that the music on Labyrinthine Heirs would be off-kilter at a minimum. With Léon François Comerre’s excellent cover painting in view but very little to go on by way of Labyrinthine Heirs‘ history, I was intrigued by the promo blurb, which quoted vocalist Evan Sadler as saying, ‘The plan was to marry the sound of Touch and Go Records artists like The Jesus Lizard and Shellac with that of Celtic Frost and Virus.’ I was a big fan of Goat in the 90s and love Celtic Frost to this day, so I was excited to hear how Labyrinthine Heirs would attempt to pull this feat off.

Apropos and in keeping with I, Voidhanger tradition, the Labyrinthine Heirs‘ sound, an alternative mix of blackish death metal, presents a descriptive sticky wicket. Comparisons with The Jesus Lizard are valid here, and a fair amount of Written in Waters era Ved Buens Ende is at play.1 Samuel Kang’s (Cathexis) guitar work is distinctly crisp, full of plucky riffs (“Brick Refusers Quartered”), cascading shimmers of dissonance, and circusy leads (“The Loop of Human Flesh Told in Perpetuity”). In lock-step accompaniment is the slap-happy bass work of Bryan Camphire (ex Bloody Panda) and the understated drumming of Anthony Brownlow, all three creating a hypnotizing flow over which vocalist Evan Sadler can drape his raspy, spoken-word delivery. Labyrinthine Heirs certainly sounds impressive, but one of the problems with hypnosis is that the subject eventually falls asleep.

Colin Marston’s master of Labyrinthine Heirs is warm and inviting, highlighting the interplay between the guitars and rhythm section while providing enough wide, organic spaces to hear every separate instrument on its own and simultaneously. Like how a dog can smell each ingredient in that stew on your stovetop individually while still smelling the whole thing. The opening track, “Brick Refusers Quartered,” with the guitar and bass playfully splashing in puddles of dissonance, pulls you immediately into Labyrinthine Heirs‘ web and ushers you through the next thirty-seven minutes. Sadler strays from his go-to mono-rasp to bring some ear-catching dynamism in the form of screeching screams, vomits, chokes, and coughs (“The Loop of Human Flesh Told in Perpetuity,” “The Conceited Determination of Nimrod”) and this reminds me of the vocals from some of Nattefrost‘s nastier solo work at times. I was also thankful for these moments since they were some of the few to rouse me from my slumberous hypnosis.

Labyrinthine Heirs packs a fair number of ideas into Labyrinthine Heirs‘ five tracks.2 The biggest problem is that nearly every idea sounds the same. In its entirety, Labyrinthine Heirs never strays from the sonic palette introduced on the opening track. Nearly every time I arrived at the fifth and final song, “Yaldabaoth Gored to Blindness,” I was surprised to discover that almost 30 minutes of music had passed with nary a blip on my radar of interest to show for it, which brings us to the crux of my problem with Labyrinthine Heirs debut, and that is its overwhelming sense of similitude. All five songs suffer from reciprocating guitar techniques that, combined with the steady slap n’ tap bass, reserved drums, and raspily spoken lyrics, shroud the whole in a drone-like pall.

My relationship with I, Voidhanger, Records, is like a series of coin flips. There always seems to be a fifty-fifty chance I’ll enjoy what I hear or be equally content to let it pass. I’ve found many gems (Creature, Neptunian Maximalism, Yhdarl), to name a few, but I’ve discovered stinkers that balance the equation for each one. Labyrinthine Heirs may be deserving of their I, Voidhanger, roster spot. However, I don’t find this debut engaging enough to keep my attention, so I can’t fully recommend it. There are flashes on Labyrinthine Heirs that will have me on the lookout for its follow-up, but I prefer to pass on this.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger Records | Facebook
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 28th, 2025

#25 #2025 #AlternativeMetal #AmericanMetal #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #IVoidhangerRecords #LabyrinthineHeirs #Mar2025 #Review #TheJesusLizard #VedBuensEnde

Labyrinthine Heirs – Labyrinthine Heirs Review

By Tyme

Eclectic Texan quartet Labyrinthine Heirs is ready to float their self-titled debut album, partnered with I, Voidhanger Records, which has one of the most diverse rosters in the metalverse. All four musicians come from different musical walks of life, and given the label partner, I expected that the music on Labyrinthine Heirs would be off-kilter at a minimum. With Léon François Comerre’s excellent cover painting in view but very little to go on by way of Labyrinthine Heirs‘ history, I was intrigued by the promo blurb, which quoted vocalist Evan Sadler as saying, ‘The plan was to marry the sound of Touch and Go Records artists like The Jesus Lizard and Shellac with that of Celtic Frost and Virus.’ I was a big fan of Goat in the 90s and love Celtic Frost to this day, so I was excited to hear how Labyrinthine Heirs would attempt to pull this feat off.

Apropos and in keeping with I, Voidhanger tradition, the Labyrinthine Heirs‘ sound, an alternative mix of blackish death metal, presents a descriptive sticky wicket. Comparisons with The Jesus Lizard are valid here, and a fair amount of Written in Waters era Ved Buens Ende is at play.1 Samuel Kang’s (Cathexis) guitar work is distinctly crisp, full of plucky riffs (“Brick Refusers Quartered”), cascading shimmers of dissonance, and circusy leads (“The Loop of Human Flesh Told in Perpetuity”). In lock-step accompaniment is the slap-happy bass work of Bryan Camphire (ex Bloody Panda) and the understated drumming of Anthony Brownlow, all three creating a hypnotizing flow over which vocalist Evan Sadler can drape his raspy, spoken-word delivery. Labyrinthine Heirs certainly sounds impressive, but one of the problems with hypnosis is that the subject eventually falls asleep.

Colin Marston’s master of Labyrinthine Heirs is warm and inviting, highlighting the interplay between the guitars and rhythm section while providing enough wide, organic spaces to hear every separate instrument on its own and simultaneously. Like how a dog can smell each ingredient in that stew on your stovetop individually while still smelling the whole thing. The opening track, “Brick Refusers Quartered,” with the guitar and bass playfully splashing in puddles of dissonance, pulls you immediately into Labyrinthine Heirs‘ web and ushers you through the next thirty-seven minutes. Sadler strays from his go-to mono-rasp to bring some ear-catching dynamism in the form of screeching screams, vomits, chokes, and coughs (“The Loop of Human Flesh Told in Perpetuity,” “The Conceited Determination of Nimrod”) and this reminds me of the vocals from some of Nattefrost‘s nastier solo work at times. I was also thankful for these moments since they were some of the few to rouse me from my slumberous hypnosis.

Labyrinthine Heirs packs a fair number of ideas into Labyrinthine Heirs‘ five tracks.2 The biggest problem is that nearly every idea sounds the same. In its entirety, Labyrinthine Heirs never strays from the sonic palette introduced on the opening track. Nearly every time I arrived at the fifth and final song, “Yaldabaoth Gored to Blindness,” I was surprised to discover that almost 30 minutes of music had passed with nary a blip on my radar of interest to show for it, which brings us to the crux of my problem with Labyrinthine Heirs debut, and that is its overwhelming sense of similitude. All five songs suffer from reciprocating guitar techniques that, combined with the steady slap n’ tap bass, reserved drums, and raspily spoken lyrics, shroud the whole in a drone-like pall.

My relationship with I, Voidhanger, Records, is like a series of coin flips. There always seems to be a fifty-fifty chance I’ll enjoy what I hear or be equally content to let it pass. I’ve found many gems (Creature, Neptunian Maximalism, Yhdarl), to name a few, but I’ve discovered stinkers that balance the equation for each one. Labyrinthine Heirs may be deserving of their I, Voidhanger, roster spot. However, I don’t find this debut engaging enough to keep my attention, so I can’t fully recommend it. There are flashes on Labyrinthine Heirs that will have me on the lookout for its follow-up, but I prefer to pass on this.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger Records | Facebook
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 28th, 2025

#25 #2025 #AlternativeMetal #AmericanMetal #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #IVoidhangerRecords #LabyrinthineHeirs #Mar2025 #Review #TheJesusLizard #VedBuensEnde

Labyrinthine Heirs – Labyrinthine Heirs Review

By Tyme

Eclectic Texan quartet Labyrinthine Heirs is ready to float their self-titled debut album, partnered with I, Voidhanger Records, which has one of the most diverse rosters in the metalverse. All four musicians come from different musical walks of life, and given the label partner, I expected that the music on Labyrinthine Heirs would be off-kilter at a minimum. With Léon François Comerre’s excellent cover painting in view but very little to go on by way of Labyrinthine Heirs‘ history, I was intrigued by the promo blurb, which quoted vocalist Evan Sadler as saying, ‘The plan was to marry the sound of Touch and Go Records artists like The Jesus Lizard and Shellac with that of Celtic Frost and Virus.’ I was a big fan of Goat in the 90s and love Celtic Frost to this day, so I was excited to hear how Labyrinthine Heirs would attempt to pull this feat off.

Apropos and in keeping with I, Voidhanger tradition, the Labyrinthine Heirs‘ sound, an alternative mix of blackish death metal, presents a descriptive sticky wicket. Comparisons with The Jesus Lizard are valid here, and a fair amount of Written in Waters era Ved Buens Ende is at play.1 Samuel Kang’s (Cathexis) guitar work is distinctly crisp, full of plucky riffs (“Brick Refusers Quartered”), cascading shimmers of dissonance, and circusy leads (“The Loop of Human Flesh Told in Perpetuity”). In lock-step accompaniment is the slap-happy bass work of Bryan Camphire (ex Bloody Panda) and the understated drumming of Anthony Brownlow, all three creating a hypnotizing flow over which vocalist Evan Sadler can drape his raspy, spoken-word delivery. Labyrinthine Heirs certainly sounds impressive, but one of the problems with hypnosis is that the subject eventually falls asleep.

Colin Marston’s master of Labyrinthine Heirs is warm and inviting, highlighting the interplay between the guitars and rhythm section while providing enough wide, organic spaces to hear every separate instrument on its own and simultaneously. Like how a dog can smell each ingredient in that stew on your stovetop individually while still smelling the whole thing. The opening track, “Brick Refusers Quartered,” with the guitar and bass playfully splashing in puddles of dissonance, pulls you immediately into Labyrinthine Heirs‘ web and ushers you through the next thirty-seven minutes. Sadler strays from his go-to mono-rasp to bring some ear-catching dynamism in the form of screeching screams, vomits, chokes, and coughs (“The Loop of Human Flesh Told in Perpetuity,” “The Conceited Determination of Nimrod”) and this reminds me of the vocals from some of Nattefrost‘s nastier solo work at times. I was also thankful for these moments since they were some of the few to rouse me from my slumberous hypnosis.

Labyrinthine Heirs packs a fair number of ideas into Labyrinthine Heirs‘ five tracks.2 The biggest problem is that nearly every idea sounds the same. In its entirety, Labyrinthine Heirs never strays from the sonic palette introduced on the opening track. Nearly every time I arrived at the fifth and final song, “Yaldabaoth Gored to Blindness,” I was surprised to discover that almost 30 minutes of music had passed with nary a blip on my radar of interest to show for it, which brings us to the crux of my problem with Labyrinthine Heirs debut, and that is its overwhelming sense of similitude. All five songs suffer from reciprocating guitar techniques that, combined with the steady slap n’ tap bass, reserved drums, and raspily spoken lyrics, shroud the whole in a drone-like pall.

My relationship with I, Voidhanger, Records, is like a series of coin flips. There always seems to be a fifty-fifty chance I’ll enjoy what I hear or be equally content to let it pass. I’ve found many gems (Creature, Neptunian Maximalism, Yhdarl), to name a few, but I’ve discovered stinkers that balance the equation for each one. Labyrinthine Heirs may be deserving of their I, Voidhanger, roster spot. However, I don’t find this debut engaging enough to keep my attention, so I can’t fully recommend it. There are flashes on Labyrinthine Heirs that will have me on the lookout for its follow-up, but I prefer to pass on this.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger Records | Facebook
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 28th, 2025

#25 #2025 #AlternativeMetal #AmericanMetal #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #IVoidhangerRecords #LabyrinthineHeirs #Mar2025 #Review #TheJesusLizard #VedBuensEnde