#m-theory-audio — Public Fediverse posts

Straddling the line between power metal and thrash, Anubis returns two years removed from their debut to unveil full-length follow-up Anthromorphicide. According to the promo materials,1 this translates to ‘the death of the human form,’ with Anubis mastermind Devin Reiche (Hatchet) clarifying that Anthromorphicide captures a band in flux as they ‘evolve in real time.’ Anubis formed back in 2018, and between then and now, they’ve released six EPs as well as 2024 LP Dark Paradise. The band maintains a steady course with Anthromorphicide, yet power thrash is niche enough that newer bands struggle to escape comparisons to its cornerstones (namely, Iced Earth). Given Anubis’ claim of continuously maturing their sound, how far do they extend past the limits imposed by themselves and the genre?

Anthromorphicide brims with influences and inspirations, yet Anubis transcends mere mimicry. Instead, they call upon dozens of bands to inform a love letter to the fusion of power and thrash. Most immediately, Anubis’ theatrics remind me of Helloween, with Reiche’s vocals sidling comfortably between Kiske and Mystic Prophecy’s R.D. Liapakis. Musically, Anthromorphicide traverses a varied landscape, covering the likes of Kreator’s rabid power thrash attack (“Anthromorphicide,” “Reptile Eyes”), Persuader’s sprightly riffing (“Nuclear Dawn”), and DragonForce’s knack for hooky choruses and histrionics (“Celestial,” “Battalion”). And going back to Iced Earth, “Ancient at Birth” could slot nicely into one of the Something Wicked installments. Even with all these reference points, though, Anubis manages to craft an engaging affair that injects the familiar into an original and diverse collection of songs.

Considering the lineup turbulence Anubis has weathered, Anthromorphicide evinces a natural progression. Each of their releases combines power metal’s anthemic songwriting with thrash’s chugs and aggressive riffing, and while Anthromorphicide is no different, it feels more vibrant and deliberate. Fun abounds when songs strong-arm listeners into singing along, such as the “Moonchild”like opening to “Ancient at Birth” or the candy-coated, synth-driven bop “My Favorite Cage,” elevated by Zhariah’s guest vocals. Anthromorphicide isn’t chintzy, singalong cheese, though, and Anubis adds plenty of heart and grit into the formula. “Celestial” conjures Follow the Blind-era Blind Guardian with kinetic drumming and furious riffing, while longtime bassist Will Buckley buffets with his buttery bottom-end. “The Arcanist” in particular highlights Buckley’s fluid grooves, recalling D.D. Verni’s (Overkill) in-your-face aesthetic. Through it all, Ulises Hernandez (Judicator) flits and wails in tandem with returning guitarist Justin Escamilla, ensuring a dual-axe flurry that rarely misses.

Anubis shimmers during Anthromorphicide’s best moments, yet small snags hold it back. The first and final thirds of the album bristle with energy and deft execution, but the middle third sags compared to the bookends. The opening triad purrs with engrossing riffs and memorable melodies, but “The Fire Inside” slows proceedings with a seven-minute ballad that stalls Anthromorphicide’s momentum. Slow, contemplative numbers have their place, but just because it’s slow doesn’t mean it should be long. Paces accelerate from there, but it’s not until “My Favorite Cage” that I’m properly back in the groove. And that’s not to suggest that the intervening songs aren’t good, mind—just that they lack the show-stopping moments needed to reignite the flames left smoldering after “The Arcanist.” On the production front, Anthromorphicide sounds a bit thin and glossy. The bass drum and toms, contributed by David Velez, work well, but the cymbals get buried in the mix while the snare sounds flat and lifeless. Anubis commits no glaring sins, but the sum total of the minor gripes inhibits the album’s staying power.

A single listen through Anthromorphicide exposes Anubis’ sturdy songwriting and technical chops, and my appreciation grows with each spin. Anthromorphicide presents a crisp forty-two minutes of power thrash drama that’s easy to get lost within, and despite its flaws, rewards return visits. Although Anubis weaves scads of references together, each track possesses a core identity, and while some are more memorable than others, it gives Anubis a secure foundation to build upon. If they can preserve what works, with a few small tweaks, Anubis could tip the scales and unload an undeniable power thrash triumph with their next outing.

Rating: Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: M-Theory Audio
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Once upon a time, before I was a battle-jacket-wearing, corpse-paint-adorned, trve-metal warrior of the highest order, I was a high-school prog nerd. The djent wave was cresting just as I began to really delve deeper into music, and the hordes of technical, djenty bands with ultra-modern production and surprising amounts of melody still sit near and dear to my heart, even if I rarely reach back into the Sumerian-scented pile in my regular listening habits. 1 That’s why when I saw the promo for Hiraeth, the 2nd album by Brazilian prog metallers Abstracted, with comparisons to The Contortionist, The Human Abstract, and Between the Buried and Me, I couldn’t help but get a little excited at the prospect of newer music tapping into those formative sounds. Abstracted have been a band since 2013, and their long-gestating debut record, 2022’s Atma Conflux, was an effective and varied slab of djenty progressive death metal, marred by tepid production and less-than-stellar clean vocals. More than anything, though, it showed potential as a record brimming with ideas that was so close to being great. With Hiraeth, can the Brazilian group finally unify their influences into something more than the sum of their parts?

On Hiraeth, Abstracted demonstrates a thorough understanding of contemporary progressive metal styles and integrates them into something all their own. The band’s main sound is a djent-fueled take on modern progressive death metal, closest to early-era The Contortionist in its blending of odd-meter riffery, post-rock-influenced textures, and an enticing contrast between melancholic space-age cleans and technical 6-string chugs. Abstracted balance this with more traditional Haken-esque classic prog turnarounds and jazz breaks (“Sirens”), fast-paced Between the Buried and Me riff marathons (“To Quench This Insatiable Thirst”), and harmonic nuance within darker moments à la Persefone (“Requiem”). The result is a varied and dynamic set of tunes that glide effortlessly between impressive riff-fueled aggression and cathartic melodies. Songs like “The Utter End” and “The Barren Grave of God” demonstrate the band’s ability to naturally move from strength to strength without missing a beat, unfolding across expansive guitar arpeggios, delightfully off-kilter breakdowns, virtuosic solos, and powerful musical climaxes.

Hiraeth by Abstracted

This level of fluidity and genre cohesion on Hiraeth is only made possible by the high level of musicianship Abstracted display. Guitarists José Consani and Leonardo Brito give varied performances that successfully meld more djent-centric playing with classic death metal sensibilities and demonstrate keen melodic ears with dense jazz chords and powerful lead lines. Drummer Fernando Pollen blends Latin grooves with acrobatic modern metal flourishes, and the production’s more natural drum tone allows his dynamic nuances to guide several songs. 2 On bass, Riverton Alves turns in a thoroughly warm and jazz-based, Cynic-flavored performance that shines during quieter moments, while keyboardist Carol Lynn supplies plenty of atmosphere through subtle synth textures and steps to the forefront a few times with quirky, but effective synth lines reminiscent of Diego Tejeida. Together, this ensemble breathes plenty of life into a style of music that can often feel over-processed, and their performances help to unify this collection of songs into a cohesive whole.The only elements of Hiraeth that aren’t immediately impressive are the vocals and the production. Rosano Pedro Matiussi delivers an impassioned performance, and his vocal lines often fit the songs well, but his clean singing lacks a certain impact or personality to elevate good moments into great ones. Initially, this was enough to deter me from really digging deeper and appreciating the songcraft on display, but the singing grew on me quite a bit with time. Similarly, his death growls are solid, if not one-note, and they feel like they exist more so to fill a role than to accent particular sections. This could potentially be the production’s fault, as Hiraeth sounds generally good and more natural than the swaths of overproduced modern prog 3 but lacks a certain sonic clarity, occasionally making especially dense sections harder to parse. There’s a distinct lack of reverb on the harsh vocals, and I can’t help but wonder if a stronger mix could fit the layered clean singing a bit better. Matiussi’s vocals are far from bad, and there are parts like the somber intro to “Requiem” where he sounds great, but when everything else is operating at such a high level, they feel like a weak link.

With Hiraeth, Abstracted have delivered an impressive piece of modern progressive metal. This record is a grower for sure, with dense and layered compositions often revealing their clever construction and intense interconnectedness only after repeated spins. Even if the vocals leave a little to be desired, the Brazilian group has successfully combined the sounds of several of the best modern prog bands into something exciting and nuanced.

Rating: Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: M-Theory Audio
Websites: abstractedmetal.bandcamp | facebook.com/abstractedbr
Releases Worldwide: February 20, 2026

Cemican – U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj Review

By Kenstrosity

Hailing from Guadalajara, Mexico, folk-death septet Cemican caught my attention way back in 2019 with their third record, In Ohtli Teoyohtica In Miquiztli. Boasting strong riffcraft and a penchant for chimeric songwriting, Cemican’s unique style and compelling subject matter challenged what I expected from the death metal scene at the time. Focused on bringing to the fore the sounds, rhythms, and even the language of pre-Mexican indigenous peoples (specifically, Mayan), Cemican’s mission serves a cultural spirit lost to time colonialism. Depicting tales of ancient Mayan gods and legends, and based on the mysticism and ideology of Mayan culture, upcoming fourth outing, U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj, quickly earned my undivided attention.

U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj sees Cemican at their heaviest and most adventurous yet. Pounding drums of various disciplines hit with the impact of a titan’s fist on sacred ground, as roaring growls and ethereal chants swirl amongst stomping riffs and tempestuous tremolos. Soaring atop these storming pyrotechnics, an assortment of flutes (played by no fewer than five of Cemican’s seven musicians) sing ancestral melodies, sometimes in lockstep with the modern metallics, other times as an uplifting counterpoint. A rebellious heavy metal spirit influences a fair portion of Cemican’s songwriting this time around, going so far as to step boldly into the spotlight and overwrite the record’s death metal core entirely, twice (“El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas,” “¿Dónde estás?”). Regardless of what corporeal form it takes, though, Cemican’s sound is epic, ancient, and massive.

At an hour and seven minutes, U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj sounds like a bloated mass desperate for self-editing on paper. Yet, six years of careful attention to detail result in 12 songs that all have something interesting and memorable to take home, and a wealth of ideas that support and even elevate those takeaways. Killer riffs in “Yóok ‘ol kaab Maya” work in tandem with wild flutes, squealing solos, and a somewhat unsteady chorus that feels natural in context with the composition, where it would feel clumsy elsewhere. Brutal speed intensifies “Los Guardianes de la Tierra” as blackened winds chill companion piece “Hun-Came” to the bone, creating a thrilling but well-timed shift from the chunky grooves of earlier bangers like “Tán tí le Xibalba” and powerful opener “Kukulkán Wakah Chan.” Even Cemican’s long-form excursions, which build sturdy bridges between tribal instrumentals, deadly heft, and ethereal melodicism, boast a compelling multitude of ideas, buttery-smooth transitions, and rich textures that easily justify their protracted runtimes (“Viaje Astral del Quetzal de Fuego,” “Horizonte de Almas”).

Of course, with so many ideas stuffed into one work, there are bound to be some kinks. For Cemican, those hiccups largely surface when they shift styles with no telegraphing. Such outliers as “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” and “¿Dónde estás?” are good songs on their own. In particular, it’s surprising how successful “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” is as a heavy/power epic. However, there’s very little connective tissue—right down to the lighter and cleaner guitar tone—that explains its existence in the album context, other than subject matter. “¿Dónde estás?” damages album cohesion in much the same way, and with somewhat less success than its album-mate due to less memorable writing and ballad-like wistfulness. Without these tracks, not only would U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj clock in at a more reasonable 56 minutes total, but it would feel more consistent and smooth. That said, “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” would’ve made an excellent bonus track or even just a separate single that I’d happily recruit for playlist duty.

In sum, Cemican solidify their status as one of the more interesting acts in the death metal universe. Their adoption of indigenous music as part of their formula goes a long way towards setting them apart from their peers sonically, but it’s their fearless songwriting and meticulous detailing that seals the deal. U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj represents their most refined and compelling work to date, and while it has its missteps, even those would find purchase on another record better built to support them. It just goes to show how talented and skilled Cemican are. With this in mind, I look forward to spending more time enjoying U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj, a qualified, but unique triumph.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: M-Theory Audio
Websites: cemican1.bandcamp.com/album/u-kuukankil-mayakaaj | facebook.com/pages/CEMICAN/320421353267
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025

#2025 #35 #Cemican #DeathMetal #FolkMetal #HeavyMetal #MTheoryAudio #MelodicDeathMetal #MexicanMetal #Oct25 #Review #Reviews #UKUUkAnkilMayakaaj

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OVERKILL's D.D. VERNI Announces Second Solo Album, 'Dreadful Company'
M-Theory Audio has announced the second album, and first for M-Theory Audio, from VERNI. If the name sounds familiar, VERNI is the solo project of legendary bassist D.D. Verni, better known as the bassist and a founding member of thrash metal legends OVERKILL. D.D. has held the bottom end of OVERK...

https://blabbermouth.net/news/overkills-d-d-verni-announces-second-solo-album-dreadful-company

#OVERKILL #DDVERNI #MTheoryAudio #DreadfulCompany