#melodicblackmetal — Public Fediverse posts

HELLRIPPER - Coronach (LYRIC VIDEO) [2026, United Kingdom, Speed Metal, Melodic Black Metal]

https://youtu.be/mcdrP2Mjh24

On song.link: https://song.link/de/i/1862521947

… from the album *Coronach* by Hellripper: https://rateyourmusic.com/release/album/hellripper/coronach/

#SpeedMetal #MelodicBlackMetal

Satyricon
[1994] Dark Medieval Times

#NowPlaying #BlackMetal #MelodicBlackMetal #Metal

ORMABOL (Noruega) presenta nou single: "Baal og Blasfemi" #Ormabol #MelodicBlackMetal #Maig2026 #Noruega #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

ORMABOL (Noruega) presenta nou single: "Baal og Blasfemi" #Ormabol #MelodicBlackMetal #Maig2026 #Noruega #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Silaera – An Aberration of the Void Review

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity Every year has one magical moment that I look forward t…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #4.0 #AmericanMetal #AnAberrationoftheVoid #Apr26 #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackMetal #Blackbraid #CosmicPutrefaction #Entertainment #Keres #MareCognitum #MelodicBlackMetal #Noltem #Post-BlackMetal #Post-Metal #review #reviews #SelfReleased #Silaera #Vimur
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/633534/

Silaera – An Aberration of the Void Review

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity Every year has one magical moment that I look forward t…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #4.0 #AmericanMetal #AnAberrationoftheVoid #Apr26 #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackMetal #Blackbraid #CosmicPutrefaction #Entertainment #Keres #MareCognitum #MelodicBlackMetal #Noltem #Post-BlackMetal #Post-Metal #review #reviews #SelfReleased #Silaera #Vimur
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/633534/

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity

Every year has one magical moment that I look forward to with great anticipation: the first metal release that wows me enough to think it’ll be my AotY. It’s an electric sensation, and it just so happens that Alekhines Gun brought first lightning to my world this year, in the form of atmospheric post-black metal band Silaera’s debut record, An Aberration of the Void. The Chicagoan triplet, established in 2019 as a one-man project, rounded out their lineup with a bassist and a second guitarist last year as they recorded their striking debut. Complete with a stunning Burke piece adorning its cover, An Aberration of the Void left Gun and I with our jaws on the floor, so much so that we had no choice but to write this review together. Two different voices, one unified piece.

An Aberration of the Void is an apt moniker for Silaera’s first outing, as the band masterfully wields all of black metal’s forms as if they were intrinsic properties of their very being. At once gorgeous, frightening, triumphant, and evil, An Aberration of the Void recalls the sweeping flares of Mare Cognitum (“A Celestial Grave”), the gentle caress of Noltem (the first quarter of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”), the fervent dissonance of Vimur (“From Entropic Dust”), and the devastating heft of the altogether more vicious Keres (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes, the middle third of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Yet, Silaera’s talent for transitions and assembly manage to craft a vision like visiting an alien planet; you’ve seen planets before, but none like this, and trying to classify its place in the cosmos in relation to other stars is a waste of time. This planet simply is. An Aberration’s production conjures specters of the celestial in similar fashion, transversely aligning full, rich chords, cavernous reverb, and a deep low end against crystalline shimmers and bright midranges. The result is a magical composition of unknown and unknowable beauty churning with the destructive energy of a collapsing star.

If you need a quick peak into the nebula awaiting, point your telescopes to “Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” a masterstroke of composition, creativity, and unpredictability. Launching with a sparkling1 trem-heavy intro, it glides into a long-form riff of cosmic mysticism before variating into a brutally heavy crush, which then spontaneously combusts into a jagged groove attack liable to snap your neck like a toothpick. Tellingly, vocals take a dumbfounding length of time to kick in, but aren’t noticed in their absence until they make their presence known—this serves only to enhance their impact. Moments of contrast like this abound on An Aberration, giving new meaning to the term “beauty and the beast,” but few hit harder than “From Entropic Dust” and epic closer “Fall into Cosmic Sleep” when they offset their impeccable atmospheric allure with deadly swings and terrifying dissonance. Imagine if Cosmic Putrification wrote an album about their feelings and had it produced by Blackbraid, and you’ll almost get it. Silaera takes their songwriting chiaroscuro even further, morphing and mutating phrases with each repetition so radically as to redefine, but never estrange, the tones and textures of the next measure.

That songwriting makes An Aberration of the Void engaging and stimulating from start to finish in spite of its uniformly long-form construction. You’d expect a record where no song falls below six minutes to feature some bloat, but not here. Not a moment wasted, An Aberration arranges compelling choices and elevating decorations around every corner, on both the songwriting and production front. The snare positively crackles and pops when devolving into ferocious blasts, but sibilates and snaps instead during gentler phrases to emphasize mood and atmosphere to great effect (“A Celestial Gaze”). A throaty rasp informs the more intense sections while guttural roars evoke a lurking monstrosity when the moment calls for something more ominous (“Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Riffs pummel and pound with the terrible force of black holes, but delicate melodies ascend beyond the heavens in tandem to uplift the listener as the event horizon guarantees their final destination (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). This interplay of contrast and complement, paired with meticulous detailing, is the unfathomable core of An Aberration of the Void, and the main reason why it universally captivates my attention.

Criticisms are extremely difficult to commit to, not just for me, but also for Gun. Neither one of us felt any held water for longer than a few moments. We nonetheless noted that, for some, Silaera’s disparate references could feel disjointed in the moment,2 with cohesion only coming after focused spins. An Aberration of the Void also does not escape common genre trappings: maximum reverb, more runtime dedicated to slower paces than outright aggression, arpeggios everywhere. But in execution, these small points of contention feel like inseparable parts of the cosmos Silaera created, and what a wondrous cosmos it is.

Rating Consensus: Great!!3
DR: Lost to the Void | Format Reviewed: Bandcamp Stream
Label: Self Released
Websites: silaera.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Silaera
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity

Every year has one magical moment that I look forward to with great anticipation: the first metal release that wows me enough to think it’ll be my AotY. It’s an electric sensation, and it just so happens that Alekhines Gun brought first lightning to my world this year, in the form of atmospheric post-black metal band Silaera’s debut record, An Aberration of the Void. The Chicagoan triplet, established in 2019 as a one-man project, rounded out their lineup with a bassist and a second guitarist last year as they recorded their striking debut. Complete with a stunning Burke piece adorning its cover, An Aberration of the Void left Gun and I with our jaws on the floor, so much so that we had no choice but to write this review together. Two different voices, one unified piece.

An Aberration of the Void is an apt moniker for Silaera’s first outing, as the band masterfully wields all of black metal’s forms as if they were intrinsic properties of their very being. At once gorgeous, frightening, triumphant, and evil, An Aberration of the Void recalls the sweeping flares of Mare Cognitum (“A Celestial Grave”), the gentle caress of Noltem (the first quarter of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”), the fervent dissonance of Vimur (“From Entropic Dust”), and the devastating heft of the altogether more vicious Keres (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes, the middle third of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Yet, Silaera’s talent for transitions and assembly manage to craft a vision like visiting an alien planet; you’ve seen planets before, but none like this, and trying to classify its place in the cosmos in relation to other stars is a waste of time. This planet simply is. An Aberration’s production conjures specters of the celestial in similar fashion, transversely aligning full, rich chords, cavernous reverb, and a deep low end against crystalline shimmers and bright midranges. The result is a magical composition of unknown and unknowable beauty churning with the destructive energy of a collapsing star.

If you need a quick peak into the nebula awaiting, point your telescopes to “Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” a masterstroke of composition, creativity, and unpredictability. Launching with a sparkling1 trem-heavy intro, it glides into a long-form riff of cosmic mysticism before variating into a brutally heavy crush, which then spontaneously combusts into a jagged groove attack liable to snap your neck like a toothpick. Tellingly, vocals take a dumbfounding length of time to kick in, but aren’t noticed in their absence until they make their presence known—this serves only to enhance their impact. Moments of contrast like this abound on An Aberration, giving new meaning to the term “beauty and the beast,” but few hit harder than “From Entropic Dust” and epic closer “Fall into Cosmic Sleep” when they offset their impeccable atmospheric allure with deadly swings and terrifying dissonance. Imagine if Cosmic Putrification wrote an album about their feelings and had it produced by Blackbraid, and you’ll almost get it. Silaera takes their songwriting chiaroscuro even further, morphing and mutating phrases with each repetition so radically as to redefine, but never estrange, the tones and textures of the next measure.

That songwriting makes An Aberration of the Void engaging and stimulating from start to finish in spite of its uniformly long-form construction. You’d expect a record where no song falls below six minutes to feature some bloat, but not here. Not a moment wasted, An Aberration arranges compelling choices and elevating decorations around every corner, on both the songwriting and production front. The snare positively crackles and pops when devolving into ferocious blasts, but sibilates and snaps instead during gentler phrases to emphasize mood and atmosphere to great effect (“A Celestial Gaze”). A throaty rasp informs the more intense sections while guttural roars evoke a lurking monstrosity when the moment calls for something more ominous (“Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Riffs pummel and pound with the terrible force of black holes, but delicate melodies ascend beyond the heavens in tandem to uplift the listener as the event horizon guarantees their final destination (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). This interplay of contrast and complement, paired with meticulous detailing, is the unfathomable core of An Aberration of the Void, and the main reason why it universally captivates my attention.

Criticisms are extremely difficult to commit to, not just for me, but also for Gun. Neither one of us felt any held water for longer than a few moments. We nonetheless noted that, for some, Silaera’s disparate references could feel disjointed in the moment,2 with cohesion only coming after focused spins. An Aberration of the Void also does not escape common genre trappings: maximum reverb, more runtime dedicated to slower paces than outright aggression, arpeggios everywhere. But in execution, these small points of contention feel like inseparable parts of the cosmos Silaera created, and what a wondrous cosmos it is.

Rating Consensus: Great!!3
DR: Lost to the Void | Format Reviewed: Bandcamp Stream
Label: Self Released
Websites: silaera.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Silaera
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity

Every year has one magical moment that I look forward to with great anticipation: the first metal release that wows me enough to think it’ll be my AotY. It’s an electric sensation, and it just so happens that Alekhines Gun brought first lightning to my world this year, in the form of atmospheric post-black metal band Silaera’s debut record, An Aberration of the Void. The Chicagoan triplet, established in 2019 as a one-man project, rounded out their lineup with a bassist and a second guitarist last year as they recorded their striking debut. Complete with a stunning Burke piece adorning its cover, An Aberration of the Void left Gun and I with our jaws on the floor, so much so that we had no choice but to write this review together. Two different voices, one unified piece.

An Aberration of the Void is an apt moniker for Silaera’s first outing, as the band masterfully wields all of black metal’s forms as if they were intrinsic properties of their very being. At once gorgeous, frightening, triumphant, and evil, An Aberration of the Void recalls the sweeping flares of Mare Cognitum (“A Celestial Grave”), the gentle caress of Noltem (the first quarter of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”), the fervent dissonance of Vimur (“From Entropic Dust”), and the devastating heft of the altogether more vicious Keres (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes, the middle third of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Yet, Silaera’s talent for transitions and assembly manage to craft a vision like visiting an alien planet; you’ve seen planets before, but none like this, and trying to classify its place in the cosmos in relation to other stars is a waste of time. This planet simply is. An Aberration’s production conjures specters of the celestial in similar fashion, transversely aligning full, rich chords, cavernous reverb, and a deep low end against crystalline shimmers and bright midranges. The result is a magical composition of unknown and unknowable beauty churning with the destructive energy of a collapsing star.

If you need a quick peak into the nebula awaiting, point your telescopes to “Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” a masterstroke of composition, creativity, and unpredictability. Launching with a sparkling1 trem-heavy intro, it glides into a long-form riff of cosmic mysticism before variating into a brutally heavy crush, which then spontaneously combusts into a jagged groove attack liable to snap your neck like a toothpick. Tellingly, vocals take a dumbfounding length of time to kick in, but aren’t noticed in their absence until they make their presence known—this serves only to enhance their impact. Moments of contrast like this abound on An Aberration, giving new meaning to the term “beauty and the beast,” but few hit harder than “From Entropic Dust” and epic closer “Fall into Cosmic Sleep” when they offset their impeccable atmospheric allure with deadly swings and terrifying dissonance. Imagine if Cosmic Putrification wrote an album about their feelings and had it produced by Blackbraid, and you’ll almost get it. Silaera takes their songwriting chiaroscuro even further, morphing and mutating phrases with each repetition so radically as to redefine, but never estrange, the tones and textures of the next measure.

That songwriting makes An Aberration of the Void engaging and stimulating from start to finish in spite of its uniformly long-form construction. You’d expect a record where no song falls below six minutes to feature some bloat, but not here. Not a moment wasted, An Aberration arranges compelling choices and elevating decorations around every corner, on both the songwriting and production front. The snare positively crackles and pops when devolving into ferocious blasts, but sibilates and snaps instead during gentler phrases to emphasize mood and atmosphere to great effect (“A Celestial Gaze”). A throaty rasp informs the more intense sections while guttural roars evoke a lurking monstrosity when the moment calls for something more ominous (“Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Riffs pummel and pound with the terrible force of black holes, but delicate melodies ascend beyond the heavens in tandem to uplift the listener as the event horizon guarantees their final destination (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). This interplay of contrast and complement, paired with meticulous detailing, is the unfathomable core of An Aberration of the Void, and the main reason why it universally captivates my attention.

Criticisms are extremely difficult to commit to, not just for me, but also for Gun. Neither one of us felt any held water for longer than a few moments. We nonetheless noted that, for some, Silaera’s disparate references could feel disjointed in the moment,2 with cohesion only coming after focused spins. An Aberration of the Void also does not escape common genre trappings: maximum reverb, more runtime dedicated to slower paces than outright aggression, arpeggios everywhere. But in execution, these small points of contention feel like inseparable parts of the cosmos Silaera created, and what a wondrous cosmos it is.

Rating Consensus: Great!!3
DR: Lost to the Void | Format Reviewed: Bandcamp Stream
Label: Self Released
Websites: silaera.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Silaera
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity

Every year has one magical moment that I look forward to with great anticipation: the first metal release that wows me enough to think it’ll be my AotY. It’s an electric sensation, and it just so happens that Alekhines Gun brought first lightning to my world this year, in the form of atmospheric post-black metal band Silaera’s debut record, An Aberration of the Void. The Chicagoan triplet, established in 2019 as a one-man project, rounded out their lineup with a bassist and a second guitarist last year as they recorded their striking debut. Complete with a stunning Burke piece adorning its cover, An Aberration of the Void left Gun and I with our jaws on the floor, so much so that we had no choice but to write this review together. Two different voices, one unified piece.

An Aberration of the Void is an apt moniker for Silaera’s first outing, as the band masterfully wields all of black metal’s forms as if they were intrinsic properties of their very being. At once gorgeous, frightening, triumphant, and evil, An Aberration of the Void recalls the sweeping flares of Mare Cognitum (“A Celestial Grave”), the gentle caress of Noltem (the first quarter of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”), the fervent dissonance of Vimur (“From Entropic Dust”), and the devastating heft of the altogether more vicious Keres (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes, the middle third of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Yet, Silaera’s talent for transitions and assembly manage to craft a vision like visiting an alien planet; you’ve seen planets before, but none like this, and trying to classify its place in the cosmos in relation to other stars is a waste of time. This planet simply is. An Aberration’s production conjures specters of the celestial in similar fashion, transversely aligning full, rich chords, cavernous reverb, and a deep low end against crystalline shimmers and bright midranges. The result is a magical composition of unknown and unknowable beauty churning with the destructive energy of a collapsing star.

If you need a quick peak into the nebula awaiting, point your telescopes to “Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” a masterstroke of composition, creativity, and unpredictability. Launching with a sparkling1 trem-heavy intro, it glides into a long-form riff of cosmic mysticism before variating into a brutally heavy crush, which then spontaneously combusts into a jagged groove attack liable to snap your neck like a toothpick. Tellingly, vocals take a dumbfounding length of time to kick in, but aren’t noticed in their absence until they make their presence known—this serves only to enhance their impact. Moments of contrast like this abound on An Aberration, giving new meaning to the term “beauty and the beast,” but few hit harder than “From Entropic Dust” and epic closer “Fall into Cosmic Sleep” when they offset their impeccable atmospheric allure with deadly swings and terrifying dissonance. Imagine if Cosmic Putrification wrote an album about their feelings and had it produced by Blackbraid, and you’ll almost get it. Silaera takes their songwriting chiaroscuro even further, morphing and mutating phrases with each repetition so radically as to redefine, but never estrange, the tones and textures of the next measure.

That songwriting makes An Aberration of the Void engaging and stimulating from start to finish in spite of its uniformly long-form construction. You’d expect a record where no song falls below six minutes to feature some bloat, but not here. Not a moment wasted, An Aberration arranges compelling choices and elevating decorations around every corner, on both the songwriting and production front. The snare positively crackles and pops when devolving into ferocious blasts, but sibilates and snaps instead during gentler phrases to emphasize mood and atmosphere to great effect (“A Celestial Gaze”). A throaty rasp informs the more intense sections while guttural roars evoke a lurking monstrosity when the moment calls for something more ominous (“Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Riffs pummel and pound with the terrible force of black holes, but delicate melodies ascend beyond the heavens in tandem to uplift the listener as the event horizon guarantees their final destination (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). This interplay of contrast and complement, paired with meticulous detailing, is the unfathomable core of An Aberration of the Void, and the main reason why it universally captivates my attention.

Criticisms are extremely difficult to commit to, not just for me, but also for Gun. Neither one of us felt any held water for longer than a few moments. We nonetheless noted that, for some, Silaera’s disparate references could feel disjointed in the moment,2 with cohesion only coming after focused spins. An Aberration of the Void also does not escape common genre trappings: maximum reverb, more runtime dedicated to slower paces than outright aggression, arpeggios everywhere. But in execution, these small points of contention feel like inseparable parts of the cosmos Silaera created, and what a wondrous cosmos it is.

Rating Consensus: Great!!3
DR: Lost to the Void | Format Reviewed: Bandcamp Stream
Label: Self Released
Websites: silaera.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Silaera
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity

Every year has one magical moment that I look forward to with great anticipation: the first metal release that wows me enough to think it’ll be my AotY. It’s an electric sensation, and it just so happens that Alekhines Gun brought first lightning to my world this year, in the form of atmospheric post-black metal band Silaera’s debut record, An Aberration of the Void. The Chicagoan triplet, established in 2019 as a one-man project, rounded out their lineup with a bassist and a second guitarist last year as they recorded their striking debut. Complete with a stunning Burke piece adorning its cover, An Aberration of the Void left Gun and I with our jaws on the floor, so much so that we had no choice but to write this review together. Two different voices, one unified piece.

An Aberration of the Void is an apt moniker for Silaera’s first outing, as the band masterfully wields all of black metal’s forms as if they were intrinsic properties of their very being. At once gorgeous, frightening, triumphant, and evil, An Aberration of the Void recalls the sweeping flares of Mare Cognitum (“A Celestial Grave”), the gentle caress of Noltem (the first quarter of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”), the fervent dissonance of Vimur (“From Entropic Dust”), and the devastating heft of the altogether more vicious Keres (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes, the middle third of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Yet, Silaera’s talent for transitions and assembly manage to craft a vision like visiting an alien planet; you’ve seen planets before, but none like this, and trying to classify its place in the cosmos in relation to other stars is a waste of time. This planet simply is. An Aberration’s production conjures specters of the celestial in similar fashion, transversely aligning full, rich chords, cavernous reverb, and a deep low end against crystalline shimmers and bright midranges. The result is a magical composition of unknown and unknowable beauty churning with the destructive energy of a collapsing star.

If you need a quick peak into the nebula awaiting, point your telescopes to “Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” a masterstroke of composition, creativity, and unpredictability. Launching with a sparkling1 trem-heavy intro, it glides into a long-form riff of cosmic mysticism before variating into a brutally heavy crush, which then spontaneously combusts into a jagged groove attack liable to snap your neck like a toothpick. Tellingly, vocals take a dumbfounding length of time to kick in, but aren’t noticed in their absence until they make their presence known—this serves only to enhance their impact. Moments of contrast like this abound on An Aberration, giving new meaning to the term “beauty and the beast,” but few hit harder than “From Entropic Dust” and epic closer “Fall into Cosmic Sleep” when they offset their impeccable atmospheric allure with deadly swings and terrifying dissonance. Imagine if Cosmic Putrification wrote an album about their feelings and had it produced by Blackbraid, and you’ll almost get it. Silaera takes their songwriting chiaroscuro even further, morphing and mutating phrases with each repetition so radically as to redefine, but never estrange, the tones and textures of the next measure.

That songwriting makes An Aberration of the Void engaging and stimulating from start to finish in spite of its uniformly long-form construction. You’d expect a record where no song falls below six minutes to feature some bloat, but not here. Not a moment wasted, An Aberration arranges compelling choices and elevating decorations around every corner, on both the songwriting and production front. The snare positively crackles and pops when devolving into ferocious blasts, but sibilates and snaps instead during gentler phrases to emphasize mood and atmosphere to great effect (“A Celestial Gaze”). A throaty rasp informs the more intense sections while guttural roars evoke a lurking monstrosity when the moment calls for something more ominous (“Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Riffs pummel and pound with the terrible force of black holes, but delicate melodies ascend beyond the heavens in tandem to uplift the listener as the event horizon guarantees their final destination (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). This interplay of contrast and complement, paired with meticulous detailing, is the unfathomable core of An Aberration of the Void, and the main reason why it universally captivates my attention.

Criticisms are extremely difficult to commit to, not just for me, but also for Gun. Neither one of us felt any held water for longer than a few moments. We nonetheless noted that, for some, Silaera’s disparate references could feel disjointed in the moment,2 with cohesion only coming after focused spins. An Aberration of the Void also does not escape common genre trappings: maximum reverb, more runtime dedicated to slower paces than outright aggression, arpeggios everywhere. But in execution, these small points of contention feel like inseparable parts of the cosmos Silaera created, and what a wondrous cosmos it is.

Rating Consensus: Great!!3
DR: Lost to the Void | Format Reviewed: Bandcamp Stream
Label: Self Released
Websites: silaera.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Silaera
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

BURNT LODGE (Nova Zelanda) presenta nou Split: "Anchors Plunged Off Helluland" #BurntLodge #MelodicBlackMetal #Abril2026 #NovaZelanda #NouSplit #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

BURNT LODGE (Nova Zelanda) presenta nou Split: "Anchors Plunged Off Helluland" #BurntLodge #MelodicBlackMetal #Abril2026 #NovaZelanda #NouSplit #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

STORMKEEP (Estats Units) presenta nou single: "Imperious Sanguine Eroticism" #Stormkeep #MelodicBlackMetal #DungeonSynth #Abril2026 #EstatsUnits #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

STORMKEEP (Estats Units) presenta nou single: "Imperious Sanguine Eroticism" #Stormkeep #MelodicBlackMetal #DungeonSynth #Abril2026 #EstatsUnits #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Non Est Deus – Blessings and Curses Review

To receive the honor of reviewing duties for Noise’s latest as a superfan of his output is an…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #Apr26 #BlackMetal #BlessingsandCurses #Entertainment #GermanMetal #Kanonenfieber #Leitha #MelodicBlackMetal #NoisebringerRecords #NonEstDeus #review #Reviews #RottingChrist #UK #UnitedKingdom
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/523539/

To receive the honor of reviewing duties for Noise’s latest as a superfan of his output is an exciting prospect. I tend to agree with Carcharodon when it comes to their critical consensus, and Kanonenfieber is one of my favorite acts around. So, when I was (presumptively) lucky enough to review the latest Non Est Deus record, Blessings and Curses, I was excited to say the least. We have lavished praise here at AMG across the Noise spectrum, and while his projects range in quality, that quality remains firmly in the top tier of melodic black metal. So, with all that out of the way, is the latest noise from Noise a blessing of black metal righteousness or a curse on the venerable artist’s output?

Out of the gate, Blessing and Curses works to establish a more unique sound for Non Est Deus in comparison to Noise’s other projects. Whereas Legacy could lean a little too close to Kanonenfieber or Leiþa at times, this latest record makes a clear differentiation between the new Non Est Deus and the old. Noise’s vocals are clear and crisp, sung completely in English, and never hit the heaviness of Kanonenfieber or the tortured emotion of Leiþa. In fact, the first band that came to mind when spinning Blessings and Curses was Rotting Christ. At first glance, this feels like a clear step in a better direction for a project that needed a more unique identity, but upon further inspection, it hampers the album at nearly every turn.

Blessings and Curses by Non Est Deus

Blessings and Curses has a strong artistic foundation and conceptual structure, with three interludes (Prayer I, II, and III, respectively) and psalms scourging every major track. The album feels unique in the way that it follows a believer in God who loses their way and becomes disillusioned, directly mirroring the diptych on the album cover, as well as the title of the record. Phenomenal album cover aside, the musical progression isn’t as pronounced as I had hoped based on the concept, and Blessings and Curses is repetitive throughout. Nearly every track follows a similar structure, including choruses that repeat the same cadence and emotional beats on a majority of the songs. Noise returns to refrains that have a main line (usually the song title) followed by a “whispered” section that either repeats that same idea or only a slight variation on it (“Show Mercy”, “My Lord”, “The Forsaken”, “The Indulgence”). It leaves Blessings and Curses sounding like someone trying to replicate Noise as opposed to Noise himself.

To Blessings and Curses’ detriment, spoken word sections are back, and the album remains worse for it. The opening “Prayer I” feels entirely throwaway, and the interludes are so quick as to make them feel like an afterthought. The psalms on each track also kill momentum, with their placement typically towards the finale of the song. Derailing every track, the psalms are the vegetables before getting to the meat of it all. While they serve the album conceptually, they are half-baked throughout. The idea of splitting the album is an interesting one, and the best tracks are in the back half, but Blessings and Curses is sonically stagnant. “Show Mercy” and “Forgive Me” (an album highlight) play with some very light black n’ roll elements, making me wish the first half had gone all in on that idea, leaving the second half to be a blasting blackened death beast. Unfortunately, neither is that diverse, sitting in this mid space that just sounds a bit like Noise on autopilot. None of the songs are bad, some are even great, but the album as a whole feels like it wastes a phenomenal concept.

If you told me I would be reviewing Noise for AMG in 2026, I would call you a fuckin’ liar and that you shouldn’t play with my emotions. If you told me that I would be the one to give Noise a proper tongue lashing, I would be doubly upset. As a stalwart fan of the artist, I still enjoyed Blessings and Curses on a lizard-brain level, and there are some truly great tracks (Forgive Me, Kora, Transgression). I appreciate Non Est Deus doing more to differentiate itself from the rest of Noise’s work, but I would love to see it pushed even further and move out of its melodic black metal safe zone. As it stands, a mediocre Noise record is still better than most other offerings out there, but for an artist with such incredible albums under his belt, I prayed for more.

Rating: Mixed
DR: N/A| Format Reviewed: A dreamy streamy
Label: Noisebringer Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

To receive the honor of reviewing duties for Noise’s latest as a superfan of his output is an exciting prospect. I tend to agree with Carcharodon when it comes to their critical consensus, and Kanonenfieber is one of my favorite acts around. So, when I was (presumptively) lucky enough to review the latest Non Est Deus record, Blessings and Curses, I was excited to say the least. We have lavished praise here at AMG across the Noise spectrum, and while his projects range in quality, that quality remains firmly in the top tier of melodic black metal. So, with all that out of the way, is the latest noise from Noise a blessing of black metal righteousness or a curse on the venerable artist’s output?

Out of the gate, Blessing and Curses works to establish a more unique sound for Non Est Deus in comparison to Noise’s other projects. Whereas Legacy could lean a little too close to Kanonenfieber or Leiþa at times, this latest record makes a clear differentiation between the new Non Est Deus and the old. Noise’s vocals are clear and crisp, sung completely in English, and never hit the heaviness of Kanonenfieber or the tortured emotion of Leiþa. In fact, the first band that came to mind when spinning Blessings and Curses was Rotting Christ. At first glance, this feels like a clear step in a better direction for a project that needed a more unique identity, but upon further inspection, it hampers the album at nearly every turn.

Blessings and Curses by Non Est Deus

Blessings and Curses has a strong artistic foundation and conceptual structure, with three interludes (Prayer I, II, and III, respectively) and psalms scourging every major track. The album feels unique in the way that it follows a believer in God who loses their way and becomes disillusioned, directly mirroring the diptych on the album cover, as well as the title of the record. Phenomenal album cover aside, the musical progression isn’t as pronounced as I had hoped based on the concept, and Blessings and Curses is repetitive throughout. Nearly every track follows a similar structure, including choruses that repeat the same cadence and emotional beats on a majority of the songs. Noise returns to refrains that have a main line (usually the song title) followed by a “whispered” section that either repeats that same idea or only a slight variation on it (“Show Mercy”, “My Lord”, “The Forsaken”, “The Indulgence”). It leaves Blessings and Curses sounding like someone trying to replicate Noise as opposed to Noise himself.

To Blessings and Curses’ detriment, spoken word sections are back, and the album remains worse for it. The opening “Prayer I” feels entirely throwaway, and the interludes are so quick as to make them feel like an afterthought. The psalms on each track also kill momentum, with their placement typically towards the finale of the song. Derailing every track, the psalms are the vegetables before getting to the meat of it all. While they serve the album conceptually, they are half-baked throughout. The idea of splitting the album is an interesting one, and the best tracks are in the back half, but Blessings and Curses is sonically stagnant. “Show Mercy” and “Forgive Me” (an album highlight) play with some very light black n’ roll elements, making me wish the first half had gone all in on that idea, leaving the second half to be a blasting blackened death beast. Unfortunately, neither is that diverse, sitting in this mid space that just sounds a bit like Noise on autopilot. None of the songs are bad, some are even great, but the album as a whole feels like it wastes a phenomenal concept.

If you told me I would be reviewing Noise for AMG in 2026, I would call you a fuckin’ liar and that you shouldn’t play with my emotions. If you told me that I would be the one to give Noise a proper tongue lashing, I would be doubly upset. As a stalwart fan of the artist, I still enjoyed Blessings and Curses on a lizard-brain level, and there are some truly great tracks (Forgive Me, Kora, Transgression). I appreciate Non Est Deus doing more to differentiate itself from the rest of Noise’s work, but I would love to see it pushed even further and move out of its melodic black metal safe zone. As it stands, a mediocre Noise record is still better than most other offerings out there, but for an artist with such incredible albums under his belt, I prayed for more.

Rating: Mixed
DR: N/A| Format Reviewed: A dreamy streamy
Label: Noisebringer Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

To receive the honor of reviewing duties for Noise’s latest as a superfan of his output is an exciting prospect. I tend to agree with Carcharodon when it comes to their critical consensus, and Kanonenfieber is one of my favorite acts around. So, when I was (presumptively) lucky enough to review the latest Non Est Deus record, Blessings and Curses, I was excited to say the least. We have lavished praise here at AMG across the Noise spectrum, and while his projects range in quality, that quality remains firmly in the top tier of melodic black metal. So, with all that out of the way, is the latest noise from Noise a blessing of black metal righteousness or a curse on the venerable artist’s output?

Out of the gate, Blessing and Curses works to establish a more unique sound for Non Est Deus in comparison to Noise’s other projects. Whereas Legacy could lean a little too close to Kanonenfieber or Leiþa at times, this latest record makes a clear differentiation between the new Non Est Deus and the old. Noise’s vocals are clear and crisp, sung completely in English, and never hit the heaviness of Kanonenfieber or the tortured emotion of Leiþa. In fact, the first band that came to mind when spinning Blessings and Curses was Rotting Christ. At first glance, this feels like a clear step in a better direction for a project that needed a more unique identity, but upon further inspection, it hampers the album at nearly every turn.

Blessings and Curses by Non Est Deus

Blessings and Curses has a strong artistic foundation and conceptual structure, with three interludes (Prayer I, II, and III, respectively) and psalms scourging every major track. The album feels unique in the way that it follows a believer in God who loses their way and becomes disillusioned, directly mirroring the diptych on the album cover, as well as the title of the record. Phenomenal album cover aside, the musical progression isn’t as pronounced as I had hoped based on the concept, and Blessings and Curses is repetitive throughout. Nearly every track follows a similar structure, including choruses that repeat the same cadence and emotional beats on a majority of the songs. Noise returns to refrains that have a main line (usually the song title) followed by a “whispered” section that either repeats that same idea or only a slight variation on it (“Show Mercy”, “My Lord”, “The Forsaken”, “The Indulgence”). It leaves Blessings and Curses sounding like someone trying to replicate Noise as opposed to Noise himself.

To Blessings and Curses’ detriment, spoken word sections are back, and the album remains worse for it. The opening “Prayer I” feels entirely throwaway, and the interludes are so quick as to make them feel like an afterthought. The psalms on each track also kill momentum, with their placement typically towards the finale of the song. Derailing every track, the psalms are the vegetables before getting to the meat of it all. While they serve the album conceptually, they are half-baked throughout. The idea of splitting the album is an interesting one, and the best tracks are in the back half, but Blessings and Curses is sonically stagnant. “Show Mercy” and “Forgive Me” (an album highlight) play with some very light black n’ roll elements, making me wish the first half had gone all in on that idea, leaving the second half to be a blasting blackened death beast. Unfortunately, neither is that diverse, sitting in this mid space that just sounds a bit like Noise on autopilot. None of the songs are bad, some are even great, but the album as a whole feels like it wastes a phenomenal concept.

If you told me I would be reviewing Noise for AMG in 2026, I would call you a fuckin’ liar and that you shouldn’t play with my emotions. If you told me that I would be the one to give Noise a proper tongue lashing, I would be doubly upset. As a stalwart fan of the artist, I still enjoyed Blessings and Curses on a lizard-brain level, and there are some truly great tracks (Forgive Me, Kora, Transgression). I appreciate Non Est Deus doing more to differentiate itself from the rest of Noise’s work, but I would love to see it pushed even further and move out of its melodic black metal safe zone. As it stands, a mediocre Noise record is still better than most other offerings out there, but for an artist with such incredible albums under his belt, I prayed for more.

Rating: Mixed
DR: N/A| Format Reviewed: A dreamy streamy
Label: Noisebringer Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

To receive the honor of reviewing duties for Noise’s latest as a superfan of his output is an exciting prospect. I tend to agree with Carcharodon when it comes to their critical consensus, and Kanonenfieber is one of my favorite acts around. So, when I was (presumptively) lucky enough to review the latest Non Est Deus record, Blessings and Curses, I was excited to say the least. We have lavished praise here at AMG across the Noise spectrum, and while his projects range in quality, that quality remains firmly in the top tier of melodic black metal. So, with all that out of the way, is the latest noise from Noise a blessing of black metal righteousness or a curse on the venerable artist’s output?

Out of the gate, Blessing and Curses works to establish a more unique sound for Non Est Deus in comparison to Noise’s other projects. Whereas Legacy could lean a little too close to Kanonenfieber or Leiþa at times, this latest record makes a clear differentiation between the new Non Est Deus and the old. Noise’s vocals are clear and crisp, sung completely in English, and never hit the heaviness of Kanonenfieber or the tortured emotion of Leiþa. In fact, the first band that came to mind when spinning Blessings and Curses was Rotting Christ. At first glance, this feels like a clear step in a better direction for a project that needed a more unique identity, but upon further inspection, it hampers the album at nearly every turn.

Blessings and Curses by Non Est Deus

Blessings and Curses has a strong artistic foundation and conceptual structure, with three interludes (Prayer I, II, and III, respectively) and psalms scourging every major track. The album feels unique in the way that it follows a believer in God who loses their way and becomes disillusioned, directly mirroring the diptych on the album cover, as well as the title of the record. Phenomenal album cover aside, the musical progression isn’t as pronounced as I had hoped based on the concept, and Blessings and Curses is repetitive throughout. Nearly every track follows a similar structure, including choruses that repeat the same cadence and emotional beats on a majority of the songs. Noise returns to refrains that have a main line (usually the song title) followed by a “whispered” section that either repeats that same idea or only a slight variation on it (“Show Mercy”, “My Lord”, “The Forsaken”, “The Indulgence”). It leaves Blessings and Curses sounding like someone trying to replicate Noise as opposed to Noise himself.

To Blessings and Curses’ detriment, spoken word sections are back, and the album remains worse for it. The opening “Prayer I” feels entirely throwaway, and the interludes are so quick as to make them feel like an afterthought. The psalms on each track also kill momentum, with their placement typically towards the finale of the song. Derailing every track, the psalms are the vegetables before getting to the meat of it all. While they serve the album conceptually, they are half-baked throughout. The idea of splitting the album is an interesting one, and the best tracks are in the back half, but Blessings and Curses is sonically stagnant. “Show Mercy” and “Forgive Me” (an album highlight) play with some very light black n’ roll elements, making me wish the first half had gone all in on that idea, leaving the second half to be a blasting blackened death beast. Unfortunately, neither is that diverse, sitting in this mid space that just sounds a bit like Noise on autopilot. None of the songs are bad, some are even great, but the album as a whole feels like it wastes a phenomenal concept.

If you told me I would be reviewing Noise for AMG in 2026, I would call you a fuckin’ liar and that you shouldn’t play with my emotions. If you told me that I would be the one to give Noise a proper tongue lashing, I would be doubly upset. As a stalwart fan of the artist, I still enjoyed Blessings and Curses on a lizard-brain level, and there are some truly great tracks (Forgive Me, Kora, Transgression). I appreciate Non Est Deus doing more to differentiate itself from the rest of Noise’s work, but I would love to see it pushed even further and move out of its melodic black metal safe zone. As it stands, a mediocre Noise record is still better than most other offerings out there, but for an artist with such incredible albums under his belt, I prayed for more.

Rating: Mixed
DR: N/A| Format Reviewed: A dreamy streamy
Label: Noisebringer Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

To receive the honor of reviewing duties for Noise’s latest as a superfan of his output is an exciting prospect. I tend to agree with Carcharodon when it comes to their critical consensus, and Kanonenfieber is one of my favorite acts around. So, when I was (presumptively) lucky enough to review the latest Non Est Deus record, Blessings and Curses, I was excited to say the least. We have lavished praise here at AMG across the Noise spectrum, and while his projects range in quality, that quality remains firmly in the top tier of melodic black metal. So, with all that out of the way, is the latest noise from Noise a blessing of black metal righteousness or a curse on the venerable artist’s output?

Out of the gate, Blessing and Curses works to establish a more unique sound for Non Est Deus in comparison to Noise’s other projects. Whereas Legacy could lean a little too close to Kanonenfieber or Leiþa at times, this latest record makes a clear differentiation between the new Non Est Deus and the old. Noise’s vocals are clear and crisp, sung completely in English, and never hit the heaviness of Kanonenfieber or the tortured emotion of Leiþa. In fact, the first band that came to mind when spinning Blessings and Curses was Rotting Christ. At first glance, this feels like a clear step in a better direction for a project that needed a more unique identity, but upon further inspection, it hampers the album at nearly every turn.

Blessings and Curses by Non Est Deus

Blessings and Curses has a strong artistic foundation and conceptual structure, with three interludes (Prayer I, II, and III, respectively) and psalms scourging every major track. The album feels unique in the way that it follows a believer in God who loses their way and becomes disillusioned, directly mirroring the diptych on the album cover, as well as the title of the record. Phenomenal album cover aside, the musical progression isn’t as pronounced as I had hoped based on the concept, and Blessings and Curses is repetitive throughout. Nearly every track follows a similar structure, including choruses that repeat the same cadence and emotional beats on a majority of the songs. Noise returns to refrains that have a main line (usually the song title) followed by a “whispered” section that either repeats that same idea or only a slight variation on it (“Show Mercy”, “My Lord”, “The Forsaken”, “The Indulgence”). It leaves Blessings and Curses sounding like someone trying to replicate Noise as opposed to Noise himself.

To Blessings and Curses’ detriment, spoken word sections are back, and the album remains worse for it. The opening “Prayer I” feels entirely throwaway, and the interludes are so quick as to make them feel like an afterthought. The psalms on each track also kill momentum, with their placement typically towards the finale of the song. Derailing every track, the psalms are the vegetables before getting to the meat of it all. While they serve the album conceptually, they are half-baked throughout. The idea of splitting the album is an interesting one, and the best tracks are in the back half, but Blessings and Curses is sonically stagnant. “Show Mercy” and “Forgive Me” (an album highlight) play with some very light black n’ roll elements, making me wish the first half had gone all in on that idea, leaving the second half to be a blasting blackened death beast. Unfortunately, neither is that diverse, sitting in this mid space that just sounds a bit like Noise on autopilot. None of the songs are bad, some are even great, but the album as a whole feels like it wastes a phenomenal concept.

If you told me I would be reviewing Noise for AMG in 2026, I would call you a fuckin’ liar and that you shouldn’t play with my emotions. If you told me that I would be the one to give Noise a proper tongue lashing, I would be doubly upset. As a stalwart fan of the artist, I still enjoyed Blessings and Curses on a lizard-brain level, and there are some truly great tracks (Forgive Me, Kora, Transgression). I appreciate Non Est Deus doing more to differentiate itself from the rest of Noise’s work, but I would love to see it pushed even further and move out of its melodic black metal safe zone. As it stands, a mediocre Noise record is still better than most other offerings out there, but for an artist with such incredible albums under his belt, I prayed for more.

Rating: Mixed
DR: N/A| Format Reviewed: A dreamy streamy
Label: Noisebringer Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

Damn! Reviews say is not that great but for me, the latest of Non Est Deus, is falling in the right place. I am freaking lovin it!

In fact, yeah yeah, first listen I may be need to reassess later, but in fact, for me, is entering my AOTY list on position 1, no discussion. 🖤

Non Est Deus "Transgression"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9PLWiAMrrcU

#blackmetal #melodicblackmetal

It’s not often I underrate something, but if there were ever a legitimate example, it might be my review of Arcane Paths to Resurrection, the debut from Greek black metal trio Decipher. Upon revisiting it recently, I experienced newfound intense appreciation for their slightly crusty melodic black metal, and this all stemmed from my initial spins of sophomore ΘΕΛΗΜΑ.1 Not overly atmospheric, not supremely dissonant or integrated into death metal, nor straightforwardly raw and aggressive, Decipher maintain a style in Thelema that’s as subtly intriguing and melodic as it is punchy and to-the-point. The word Thelema means will2 and while there’s no lyric sheet or storytelling in promo material to elucidate the concept, the snatches of audible references to Satan, and the generally extreme, yet anthemic vibe of the music broadcast defiant rebellion and the burden of being, which suit that word well.

Decipher’s sound is broadly the same as on Arcane Paths, a Watain-meets-Dissection viciousness tempered—if you can call it that—by a darker, eerier side that pulls more from Icelandic acts like Svartidauði. Whilst remaining committed to frequent use of group-chanted and screamed vocal lines and plenty of recognisably malicious blackened riffery, Thelema sees the band experiment a little more. While not meandering—with the possible exception of “Bound to the Wheel”—songs spread their themes into more variations (“The Black March,” “Towards Renaissance”) or uncanny soloing, whilst rhythms shift more often, and build tension for longer before unravelling and transforming. The barely five minutes added is enough for the compositions to have more presence, whether with energetic malevolence (“Return to Naught,” “Seven Scars”) or ominous finality (“Liturgy”). Skirting the precipice that would see a descent into atmo-black, there’s a relaxation and a layering to the melodic lines that deepens and darkens the sound.

ΘΕΛΗΜΑ (Thelema) by DECIPHER

Thelema demonstrates that Decipher’s command of rhythm, melody, and grit has only gotten better, as it compels with the joint force of hookiness and evil. Using recurring patterns of riff, vocals, and percussion that each cue one another, Decipher create a thrashing feeling of push-and-pull that’s downright magnetic. A group wail precipitating a gnarly descending arpeggio (“Seven Scars”); the way a guitar clambers up and down to the precise beat of the drums (“Return to Naught,” “Hail Death”). These manifest organically out of existing tempos—blast beat (“Seven Scars”), march (“The Black March”), or shuffling skitter (“Towards Renaissance”) alike, making the shifts seamless and the identity consistent. Perhaps this is black metal that’s not unusual on paper, but adorned with Decipher’s now recognisable bright yet sinister melodies, and continually layered vocals, it sounds freshly thrilling. The tingles that go down my spine when I hear the first riff on opener “Return to Naught,” the solo that ends “The Black March,” and the overlaid cries and urgent tremolo of “Litany” have not yet failed to materialise.

Thelema’s enjoyability and power over its listener is also bolstered by Decipher’s additional refinements in areas not lacking before. By severing any instrumental interlude or protracted intro, the energy—however it transforms—and momentum are maintained, and the album has a more robust through-line. Rhythmic and thematic shifts flex and emerge variously with emphasis and mournful or spiteful intensity. The wails are just as agonised and chest-emptying in the latter half as they are in the first. Decipher’s production has also expanded to accommodate their slightly more nuanced and exploratory sound. Thelema sports a roomy mix that keeps the interspersed vocal and guitar lines, and the proudly beating drums and crashing cymbals equally audible and striking.

I recall bemoaning a lack of zhuzh in Arcane Paths and, whether or not I still consider that justified, it definitely wouldn’t be here. For all the new layers and senses of intrigue, Thelema remains a black metal album with standout moments that threaten to overshadow and desaturate the more standard fare, and may strike some harder than others. It yet undeniably shows Decipher carving out a decisive space for themselves that adumbrates a dark, delicious presence. Thelema stands one step behind the inexorability that confers greatness in its sphere. But it’s a small step.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/ie/387092/ Winter Eternal – Unveiled Nightsky Review #25 #2026 #ancient #BlackMetal #Dissection #Éire #Entertainment #Feb26 #GreekMetal #HellsHeadbangers #IE #Ireland #MelodicBlackMetal #Music #OldMan'sChild #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Thulcandra #UnveiledNightsky #WinterEternal

Winter Eternal – Unveiled Nightsky Review

Less than two years removed from Winter Eternal’s last album, the Greek transplant (now based in Scotland) returns…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #ancient #BlackMetal #Dissection #Entertainment #Feb26 #GreekMetal #HellsHeadbangers #MelodicBlackMetal #OldMan'sChild #review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Thulcandra #UK #UnitedKingdom #UnveiledNightsky #WinterEternal
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/477090/

https://www.europesays.com/uk/827566/ Winter Eternal – Unveiled Nightsky Review #25 #2026 #ancient #BlackMetal #Dissection #Entertainment #Feb26 #GreekMetal #HellsHeadbangers #MelodicBlackMetal #music #OldMan'sChild #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Thulcandra #UK #UnitedKingdom #UnveiledNightsky #WinterEternal

VREID (Noruega) presenta nou àlbum: "The Skies Turn Black" #Vreid #MelodicBlackMetal #Març2026 #Noruega #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

VREID (Noruega) presenta nou àlbum: "The Skies Turn Black" #Vreid #MelodicBlackMetal #Març2026 #Noruega #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

NECROFIER (Estats Units) presenta nou àlbum: "Transcend into Oblivion" #Necrofier #MelodicBlackMetal #Febrer2026 #EstatsUnits #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

NECROFIER (Estats Units) presenta nou àlbum: "Transcend into Oblivion" #Necrofier #MelodicBlackMetal #Febrer2026 #EstatsUnits #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

For @HailsandAles' #BlackMetalMonday:

#Necrofier: Transcend Into Oblivion

https://album.link/i/1844395435

#MelodicBlackMetal

FFO #Cloak #NightCobra #Wormwitch

For @HailsandAles' #BlackMetalMonday:

#Necrofier: Transcend Into Oblivion

https://album.link/i/1844395435

#MelodicBlackMetal

FFO #Cloak #NightCobra #Wormwitch

For @HailsandAles' #BlackMetalMonday:

#Necrofier: Transcend Into Oblivion

https://album.link/i/1844395435

#MelodicBlackMetal

FFO #Cloak #NightCobra #Wormwitch

For @HailsandAles' #BlackMetalMonday:

#Necrofier: Transcend Into Oblivion

https://album.link/i/1844395435

#MelodicBlackMetal

FFO #Cloak #NightCobra #Wormwitch

For @HailsandAles' #BlackMetalMonday:

#Necrofier: Transcend Into Oblivion

https://album.link/i/1844395435

#MelodicBlackMetal

FFO #Cloak #NightCobra #Wormwitch

The Magus is the eponymous band of The Magus himself. At times known also as ‘Morbid,’ ‘Magus Wampyr Daoloth,’ or even ‘George,’ the entity known as ‘The Magus’ is somewhat of a fixture in the history of Greek black metal. He contributed mightily to the scene by performing on the first two Rotting Christ full-lengths, founding both Necromantia and Thou Art Lord, and owning and producing at Storm Studio in Athens, the recording location for many of Hellenic black/death metal’s seminal records. In 2021, it was announced that Necromantia had “now descended into the Abyss” following the death of its co-founder, Baron Blood. Shortly after releasing that band’s swan song, The Magus announced the birth of The Magus as a vessel to express his Luciferian worldview. Performing vocals, bass, and keyboards, the titular tyrant conscripted Necromantia drummer Maelstrom and Soulskinner guitarist El to carry out this vision, releasing…*checks notes*…Βυσσοδομώντας, the band’s ambitiously varied and theatrical debut, on Halloween of 2023. And now, The Magus has returned with follow-up Daemonosophia, promising to conjure “a more aggressive and dynamic sound.”

That promise seems to have been delivered, as Daemonosophia arrives with nary a 9-minute track to be found. The two advance singles land as relatively straightforward black metal tunes but still manage to maintain The Magus’ penchant for horrific theatricality. I was tempted to embed first proper track “Psuedoprophetae,” an absolutely blistering assault that appears on the heels of a version of the Lord’s Prayer that’s a bit different than the one I was taught in Sunday school, but I’ve opted for “Magia Obscura” instead. The latter demonstrates more of the diversity found across Daemonosophia, its snarl augmented by a clean intro and majestic heavy metal guitar leads.

Daemonosophia by THE MAGUS

But don’t let those two tracks trick you into thinking that Daemonosophia is just another melodic black metal album. The variety on offer within these compositions and their 47 minutes is astounding. The title track made me realize what Iced Earth in their prime might have sounded like if they were a black metal band, “Amelia” is a hauntingly beautiful tribute to the dramatic devilry of King Diamond, and “The Era of Lucifer Rising” sees The Magus reworking a tremolo-laden black metal church-burner from Thou Art Lord’s 1994 debut record into a melodic monstrosity of esoteric might. But perhaps the greatest surprise is album closer, “La Llorona Negra,” an outstanding cover of a classic Latin American folk song. Organ, harpsichord, and piano introduce the song and its first, female, vocalist, and for a moment, it doesn’t sound all that different than the version you heard on the Coco soundtrack. That is, until your hear La Llorona herself screaming in anguish behind the beautiful singing, and before the song evolves into a metal juggernaut with The Magus on the mic near the halfway point.

There is very little for me to complain about on Daemonosophia. Its runtime feels vastly shorter than it is, and its compositional flow has made it nearly impossible not repeat over and over again. The Magus demonstrates an incredible gift for songwriting, Maelstrom’s drumming is a tympanic tempest that lives up to his name, and while El might play for Soulskinner, he should probably be called ‘Facemelter,’ as his guitar playing has made it look like I touched the Ark of the Covenant. My one critique would be that the production feels a bit heavy on the low-end tones, and this was initially a barrier to me feeling Daemonosophia’s full impact. The album is saturated with hidden touches that demand to be heard, and I had to minorly tweak my EQ settings to fully excavate them. At the end of the day, this is a small price to pay for an album that has delivered me multiple Song o’ the Year contenders in “The Era of Lucifer Rising,” “Amelia,” and “La Llorona Negra.”

In interviews, I’ve seen The Magus boldly claim to make “extraordinary music for extraordinary people.” I’d say he’s half right. I’m just an ordinary dude, but Daemonosophia’s extraordinary music has spoken to me nonetheless. The last year or so has been a bit rough for me physically, and I’m having to face the fact that I can no longer live life the way my pre-40s self could. So when “The Era of Lucifer Rising” closes with (what I believe to be) ‘Above hatred and madness/Beyond weakness and pain/I raise the veil and break the chains/My reign has just begun’, followed by a pair of powerful screams, I can’t help but feel empowered to handle whatever challenges this new era brings me.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: The Circle Music
Websites: necromantiathemagus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/themagus666 | www.themagus666.com
Releases Worldwide: February 20th, 2026

The Magus is the eponymous band of The Magus himself. At times known also as ‘Morbid,’ ‘Magus Wampyr Daoloth,’ or even ‘George,’ the entity known as ‘The Magus’ is somewhat of a fixture in the history of Greek black metal. He contributed mightily to the scene by performing on the first two Rotting Christ full-lengths, founding both Necromantia and Thou Art Lord, and owning and producing at Storm Studio in Athens, the recording location for many of Hellenic black/death metal’s seminal records. In 2021, it was announced that Necromantia had “now descended into the Abyss” following the death of its co-founder, Baron Blood. Shortly after releasing that band’s swan song, The Magus announced the birth of The Magus as a vessel to express his Luciferian worldview. Performing vocals, bass, and keyboards, the titular tyrant conscripted Necromantia drummer Maelstrom and Soulskinner guitarist El to carry out this vision, releasing…*checks notes*…Βυσσοδομώντας, the band’s ambitiously varied and theatrical debut, on Halloween of 2023. And now, The Magus has returned with follow-up Daemonosophia, promising to conjure “a more aggressive and dynamic sound.”

That promise seems to have been delivered, as Daemonosophia arrives with nary a 9-minute track to be found. The two advance singles land as relatively straightforward black metal tunes but still manage to maintain The Magus’ penchant for horrific theatricality. I was tempted to embed first proper track “Psuedoprophetae,” an absolutely blistering assault that appears on the heels of a version of the Lord’s Prayer that’s a bit different than the one I was taught in Sunday school, but I’ve opted for “Magia Obscura” instead. The latter demonstrates more of the diversity found across Daemonosophia, its snarl augmented by a clean intro and majestic heavy metal guitar leads.

Daemonosophia by THE MAGUS

But don’t let those two tracks trick you into thinking that Daemonosophia is just another melodic black metal album. The variety on offer within these compositions and their 47 minutes is astounding. The title track made me realize what Iced Earth in their prime might have sounded like if they were a black metal band, “Amelia” is a hauntingly beautiful tribute to the dramatic devilry of King Diamond, and “The Era of Lucifer Rising” sees The Magus reworking a tremolo-laden black metal church-burner from Thou Art Lord’s 1994 debut record into a melodic monstrosity of esoteric might. But perhaps the greatest surprise is album closer, “La Llorona Negra,” an outstanding cover of a classic Latin American folk song. Organ, harpsichord, and piano introduce the song and its first, female, vocalist, and for a moment, it doesn’t sound all that different than the version you heard on the Coco soundtrack. That is, until your hear La Llorona herself screaming in anguish behind the beautiful singing, and before the song evolves into a metal juggernaut with The Magus on the mic near the halfway point.

There is very little for me to complain about on Daemonosophia. Its runtime feels vastly shorter than it is, and its compositional flow has made it nearly impossible not repeat over and over again. The Magus demonstrates an incredible gift for songwriting, Maelstrom’s drumming is a tympanic tempest that lives up to his name, and while El might play for Soulskinner, he should probably be called ‘Facemelter,’ as his guitar playing has made it look like I touched the Ark of the Covenant. My one critique would be that the production feels a bit heavy on the low-end tones, and this was initially a barrier to me feeling Daemonosophia’s full impact. The album is saturated with hidden touches that demand to be heard, and I had to minorly tweak my EQ settings to fully excavate them. At the end of the day, this is a small price to pay for an album that has delivered me multiple Song o’ the Year contenders in “The Era of Lucifer Rising,” “Amelia,” and “La Llorona Negra.”

In interviews, I’ve seen The Magus boldly claim to make “extraordinary music for extraordinary people.” I’d say he’s half right. I’m just an ordinary dude, but Daemonosophia’s extraordinary music has spoken to me nonetheless. The last year or so has been a bit rough for me physically, and I’m having to face the fact that I can no longer live life the way my pre-40s self could. So when “The Era of Lucifer Rising” closes with (what I believe to be) ‘Above hatred and madness/Beyond weakness and pain/I raise the veil and break the chains/My reign has just begun’, followed by a pair of powerful screams, I can’t help but feel empowered to handle whatever challenges this new era brings me.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: The Circle Music
Websites: necromantiathemagus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/themagus666 | www.themagus666.com
Releases Worldwide: February 20th, 2026

The Magus is the eponymous band of The Magus himself. At times known also as ‘Morbid,’ ‘Magus Wampyr Daoloth,’ or even ‘George,’ the entity known as ‘The Magus’ is somewhat of a fixture in the history of Greek black metal. He contributed mightily to the scene by performing on the first two Rotting Christ full-lengths, founding both Necromantia and Thou Art Lord, and owning and producing at Storm Studio in Athens, the recording location for many of Hellenic black/death metal’s seminal records. In 2021, it was announced that Necromantia had “now descended into the Abyss” following the death of its co-founder, Baron Blood. Shortly after releasing that band’s swan song, The Magus announced the birth of The Magus as a vessel to express his Luciferian worldview. Performing vocals, bass, and keyboards, the titular tyrant conscripted Necromantia drummer Maelstrom and Soulskinner guitarist El to carry out this vision, releasing…*checks notes*…Βυσσοδομώντας, the band’s ambitiously varied and theatrical debut, on Halloween of 2023. And now, The Magus has returned with follow-up Daemonosophia, promising to conjure “a more aggressive and dynamic sound.”

That promise seems to have been delivered, as Daemonosophia arrives with nary a 9-minute track to be found. The two advance singles land as relatively straightforward black metal tunes but still manage to maintain The Magus’ penchant for horrific theatricality. I was tempted to embed first proper track “Psuedoprophetae,” an absolutely blistering assault that appears on the heels of a version of the Lord’s Prayer that’s a bit different than the one I was taught in Sunday school, but I’ve opted for “Magia Obscura” instead. The latter demonstrates more of the diversity found across Daemonosophia, its snarl augmented by a clean intro and majestic heavy metal guitar leads.

Daemonosophia by THE MAGUS

But don’t let those two tracks trick you into thinking that Daemonosophia is just another melodic black metal album. The variety on offer within these compositions and their 47 minutes is astounding. The title track made me realize what Iced Earth in their prime might have sounded like if they were a black metal band, “Amelia” is a hauntingly beautiful tribute to the dramatic devilry of King Diamond, and “The Era of Lucifer Rising” sees The Magus reworking a tremolo-laden black metal church-burner from Thou Art Lord’s 1994 debut record into a melodic monstrosity of esoteric might. But perhaps the greatest surprise is album closer, “La Llorona Negra,” an outstanding cover of a classic Latin American folk song. Organ, harpsichord, and piano introduce the song and its first, female, vocalist, and for a moment, it doesn’t sound all that different than the version you heard on the Coco soundtrack. That is, until your hear La Llorona herself screaming in anguish behind the beautiful singing, and before the song evolves into a metal juggernaut with The Magus on the mic near the halfway point.

There is very little for me to complain about on Daemonosophia. Its runtime feels vastly shorter than it is, and its compositional flow has made it nearly impossible not repeat over and over again. The Magus demonstrates an incredible gift for songwriting, Maelstrom’s drumming is a tympanic tempest that lives up to his name, and while El might play for Soulskinner, he should probably be called ‘Facemelter,’ as his guitar playing has made it look like I touched the Ark of the Covenant. My one critique would be that the production feels a bit heavy on the low-end tones, and this was initially a barrier to me feeling Daemonosophia’s full impact. The album is saturated with hidden touches that demand to be heard, and I had to minorly tweak my EQ settings to fully excavate them. At the end of the day, this is a small price to pay for an album that has delivered me multiple Song o’ the Year contenders in “The Era of Lucifer Rising,” “Amelia,” and “La Llorona Negra.”

In interviews, I’ve seen The Magus boldly claim to make “extraordinary music for extraordinary people.” I’d say he’s half right. I’m just an ordinary dude, but Daemonosophia’s extraordinary music has spoken to me nonetheless. The last year or so has been a bit rough for me physically, and I’m having to face the fact that I can no longer live life the way my pre-40s self could. So when “The Era of Lucifer Rising” closes with (what I believe to be) ‘Above hatred and madness/Beyond weakness and pain/I raise the veil and break the chains/My reign has just begun’, followed by a pair of powerful screams, I can’t help but feel empowered to handle whatever challenges this new era brings me.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: The Circle Music
Websites: necromantiathemagus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/themagus666 | www.themagus666.com
Releases Worldwide: February 20th, 2026

The Magus is the eponymous band of The Magus himself. At times known also as ‘Morbid,’ ‘Magus Wampyr Daoloth,’ or even ‘George,’ the entity known as ‘The Magus’ is somewhat of a fixture in the history of Greek black metal. He contributed mightily to the scene by performing on the first two Rotting Christ full-lengths, founding both Necromantia and Thou Art Lord, and owning and producing at Storm Studio in Athens, the recording location for many of Hellenic black/death metal’s seminal records. In 2021, it was announced that Necromantia had “now descended into the Abyss” following the death of its co-founder, Baron Blood. Shortly after releasing that band’s swan song, The Magus announced the birth of The Magus as a vessel to express his Luciferian worldview. Performing vocals, bass, and keyboards, the titular tyrant conscripted Necromantia drummer Maelstrom and Soulskinner guitarist El to carry out this vision, releasing…*checks notes*…Βυσσοδομώντας, the band’s ambitiously varied and theatrical debut, on Halloween of 2023. And now, The Magus has returned with follow-up Daemonosophia, promising to conjure “a more aggressive and dynamic sound.”

That promise seems to have been delivered, as Daemonosophia arrives with nary a 9-minute track to be found. The two advance singles land as relatively straightforward black metal tunes but still manage to maintain The Magus’ penchant for horrific theatricality. I was tempted to embed first proper track “Psuedoprophetae,” an absolutely blistering assault that appears on the heels of a version of the Lord’s Prayer that’s a bit different than the one I was taught in Sunday school, but I’ve opted for “Magia Obscura” instead. The latter demonstrates more of the diversity found across Daemonosophia, its snarl augmented by a clean intro and majestic heavy metal guitar leads.

Daemonosophia by THE MAGUS

But don’t let those two tracks trick you into thinking that Daemonosophia is just another melodic black metal album. The variety on offer within these compositions and their 47 minutes is astounding. The title track made me realize what Iced Earth in their prime might have sounded like if they were a black metal band, “Amelia” is a hauntingly beautiful tribute to the dramatic devilry of King Diamond, and “The Era of Lucifer Rising” sees The Magus reworking a tremolo-laden black metal church-burner from Thou Art Lord’s 1994 debut record into a melodic monstrosity of esoteric might. But perhaps the greatest surprise is album closer, “La Llorona Negra,” an outstanding cover of a classic Latin American folk song. Organ, harpsichord, and piano introduce the song and its first, female, vocalist, and for a moment, it doesn’t sound all that different than the version you heard on the Coco soundtrack. That is, until your hear La Llorona herself screaming in anguish behind the beautiful singing, and before the song evolves into a metal juggernaut with The Magus on the mic near the halfway point.

There is very little for me to complain about on Daemonosophia. Its runtime feels vastly shorter than it is, and its compositional flow has made it nearly impossible not repeat over and over again. The Magus demonstrates an incredible gift for songwriting, Maelstrom’s drumming is a tympanic tempest that lives up to his name, and while El might play for Soulskinner, he should probably be called ‘Facemelter,’ as his guitar playing has made it look like I touched the Ark of the Covenant. My one critique would be that the production feels a bit heavy on the low-end tones, and this was initially a barrier to me feeling Daemonosophia’s full impact. The album is saturated with hidden touches that demand to be heard, and I had to minorly tweak my EQ settings to fully excavate them. At the end of the day, this is a small price to pay for an album that has delivered me multiple Song o’ the Year contenders in “The Era of Lucifer Rising,” “Amelia,” and “La Llorona Negra.”

In interviews, I’ve seen The Magus boldly claim to make “extraordinary music for extraordinary people.” I’d say he’s half right. I’m just an ordinary dude, but Daemonosophia’s extraordinary music has spoken to me nonetheless. The last year or so has been a bit rough for me physically, and I’m having to face the fact that I can no longer live life the way my pre-40s self could. So when “The Era of Lucifer Rising” closes with (what I believe to be) ‘Above hatred and madness/Beyond weakness and pain/I raise the veil and break the chains/My reign has just begun’, followed by a pair of powerful screams, I can’t help but feel empowered to handle whatever challenges this new era brings me.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: The Circle Music
Websites: necromantiathemagus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/themagus666 | www.themagus666.com
Releases Worldwide: February 20th, 2026

The Magus is the eponymous band of The Magus himself. At times known also as ‘Morbid,’ ‘Magus Wampyr Daoloth,’ or even ‘George,’ the entity known as ‘The Magus’ is somewhat of a fixture in the history of Greek black metal. He contributed mightily to the scene by performing on the first two Rotting Christ full-lengths, founding both Necromantia and Thou Art Lord, and owning and producing at Storm Studio in Athens, the recording location for many of Hellenic black/death metal’s seminal records. In 2021, it was announced that Necromantia had “now descended into the Abyss” following the death of its co-founder, Baron Blood. Shortly after releasing that band’s swan song, The Magus announced the birth of The Magus as a vessel to express his Luciferian worldview. Performing vocals, bass, and keyboards, the titular tyrant conscripted Necromantia drummer Maelstrom and Soulskinner guitarist El to carry out this vision, releasing…*checks notes*…Βυσσοδομώντας, the band’s ambitiously varied and theatrical debut, on Halloween of 2023. And now, The Magus has returned with follow-up Daemonosophia, promising to conjure “a more aggressive and dynamic sound.”

That promise seems to have been delivered, as Daemonosophia arrives with nary a 9-minute track to be found. The two advance singles land as relatively straightforward black metal tunes but still manage to maintain The Magus’ penchant for horrific theatricality. I was tempted to embed first proper track “Psuedoprophetae,” an absolutely blistering assault that appears on the heels of a version of the Lord’s Prayer that’s a bit different than the one I was taught in Sunday school, but I’ve opted for “Magia Obscura” instead. The latter demonstrates more of the diversity found across Daemonosophia, its snarl augmented by a clean intro and majestic heavy metal guitar leads.

Daemonosophia by THE MAGUS

But don’t let those two tracks trick you into thinking that Daemonosophia is just another melodic black metal album. The variety on offer within these compositions and their 47 minutes is astounding. The title track made me realize what Iced Earth in their prime might have sounded like if they were a black metal band, “Amelia” is a hauntingly beautiful tribute to the dramatic devilry of King Diamond, and “The Era of Lucifer Rising” sees The Magus reworking a tremolo-laden black metal church-burner from Thou Art Lord’s 1994 debut record into a melodic monstrosity of esoteric might. But perhaps the greatest surprise is album closer, “La Llorona Negra,” an outstanding cover of a classic Latin American folk song. Organ, harpsichord, and piano introduce the song and its first, female, vocalist, and for a moment, it doesn’t sound all that different than the version you heard on the Coco soundtrack. That is, until your hear La Llorona herself screaming in anguish behind the beautiful singing, and before the song evolves into a metal juggernaut with The Magus on the mic near the halfway point.

There is very little for me to complain about on Daemonosophia. Its runtime feels vastly shorter than it is, and its compositional flow has made it nearly impossible not repeat over and over again. The Magus demonstrates an incredible gift for songwriting, Maelstrom’s drumming is a tympanic tempest that lives up to his name, and while El might play for Soulskinner, he should probably be called ‘Facemelter,’ as his guitar playing has made it look like I touched the Ark of the Covenant. My one critique would be that the production feels a bit heavy on the low-end tones, and this was initially a barrier to me feeling Daemonosophia’s full impact. The album is saturated with hidden touches that demand to be heard, and I had to minorly tweak my EQ settings to fully excavate them. At the end of the day, this is a small price to pay for an album that has delivered me multiple Song o’ the Year contenders in “The Era of Lucifer Rising,” “Amelia,” and “La Llorona Negra.”

In interviews, I’ve seen The Magus boldly claim to make “extraordinary music for extraordinary people.” I’d say he’s half right. I’m just an ordinary dude, but Daemonosophia’s extraordinary music has spoken to me nonetheless. The last year or so has been a bit rough for me physically, and I’m having to face the fact that I can no longer live life the way my pre-40s self could. So when “The Era of Lucifer Rising” closes with (what I believe to be) ‘Above hatred and madness/Beyond weakness and pain/I raise the veil and break the chains/My reign has just begun’, followed by a pair of powerful screams, I can’t help but feel empowered to handle whatever challenges this new era brings me.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: The Circle Music
Websites: necromantiathemagus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/themagus666 | www.themagus666.com
Releases Worldwide: February 20th, 2026

Sanctvs – De l’Abîme au Plérôme Review

You might, as I did, roll your eyes humorously at the recurrence of the “‘v’ as ‘u’” trope…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #BlackMetal #BlutAusNord #CA #Canada #CanadianMetal #Del'AbîmeauPlérôme #Entertainment #Gevurah #Jan26 #MelodicBlackMetal #OsmoseProductions #review #reviews #Sanctvs #Woe
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/497512/

https://www.europesays.com/uk/784800/ Necrofier – Transcend into Oblivion Review #2026 #30 #BlackMetal #DevilMaster #Dissection #Emperor #Entertainment #Feb26 #Hulder #MelodicBlackMetal #MetalBladeRecords #music #Necrofier #OceansOfSlumber #Review #Reviews #TranscendIntoOblivion #UK #UnitedKingdom #USMetal #Watain #Worm

Necrofier – Transcend into Oblivion Review

Houston’s Necrofier first came on my radar when they played the 2024 Decibel Magazine Tour with Hulder, Devil…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.0 #BlackMetal #CA #Canada #DevilMaster #Dissection #Emperor #Entertainment #Feb26 #Hulder #MelodicBlackMetal #MetalBladeRecords #Necrofier #OceansofSlumber #review #reviews #TranscendintoOblivion #USMetal #Watain #Worm
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/495132/

https://www.europesays.com/ie/352888/ Necrofier – Transcend into Oblivion Review #2026 #30 #BlackMetal #DevilMaster #Dissection #Éire #Emperor #Entertainment #Feb26 #Hulder #IE #Ireland #MelodicBlackMetal #MetalBladeRecords #Music #Necrofier #OceansOfSlumber #Review #Reviews #TranscendIntoOblivion #USMetal #Watain #worm

Houston’s Necrofier first came on my radar when they played the 2024 Decibel Magazine Tour with Hulder, Devil Master, and Worm. Sadly, I missed their opening set, but gladly, I caught a recording of it on YouTube.1 Their raucous, crowd-pleasing performance compelled me to check out their recordings. At 36 minutes, debut Prophecies of Eternal Darkness (2021) is a lean, mean barrage of melodic black metal, while Burning Shadows in the Southern Night (2023) ups the ante with 47 minutes of stronger, more polished material. Necrofier’s (lone?) star seems to be on the rise since Decibel 2024, as their third album arrives on the mighty Metal Blade Records. Also on the rise are the band’s ambitions; Transcend into Oblivion spreads three three-songs suites and an eponymous closing track across a hefty 59 minutes. Everything is bigger in Texas, sure, but bigger doesn’t always mean better (or good).

Perhaps due to their sweltering abode, Necrofier draws black metal sustenance from the shivering environs of Scandinavia. Dissection is certainly an immediate reference point, if they excised the excursions into folky melodeath. Necrofier’s preferred melodicism swirls as a maelstrom of mobile power chords by guitarists Bakka and Semir Özerkan, propelled by the dexterous drumming of Dobber Beverly.2 The influence of Watain also feels present, especially since Bakka’s rasp sounds quite a bit like E. And early Emperor reigns here as well, before they fully unbound Prometheus. Violins, synthesizers, and harpsichords are felt more than heard outright, balancing a sweet spot production-wise à la Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk. On the unfortunate side of the production is bassist Mat Valentine, who gets lost in the shuffle. Nevertheless, Transcend into Oblivion consistently delivers quality black metal that is melodic but dangerous.

Transcend into Oblivion by Necrofier

Transcend into Oblivion progresses as three suites, each comprised of three songs. Together, they narrate a ‘Luciferian Night of the Dark Soul’: a spiritual awakening incites torment that ultimately engenders rebirth. Individually, they mostly play out as a collection of thematically-linked songs. “Fires of the Apocalypse, Light My Path” immediately kicks the door in (“Fires…I”) before kicking the door in again (“Fires…II”) and again—”Fires…III” is the strongest of the trio, but the listener begins wondering why these songs are presented as holistic units. The “Servants of Darkness, Guide My Way” trilogy comes closest to reaching suiteness. “Servants…I” starts with one of the album’s gnarliest trem riffs, “Servants…II” cools things down with an extended acoustic passage, and “Servants III” delightfully dips into doomy Middle-Eastern territory before black-metal blastoff. As for the “Horns of Destruction, Lift My Blade” triumvirate, it adds variety with d-beats, chunkier riffs, and a gong, but it feels like more of the same this deep into the album. There’s no real filler amongst the suites, but there aren’t any thrilling peaks either.

Keeping with their spiritualism, Necrofier nests numerology into Transcend into Oblivion, punctuating its three-song threesome with three instrumentals. For the most part, they effectively break up the black metal action. On the heels of the opening “Fires” suite, “Behold, the Birth of Ascension” conveys the onset of (re)birth pangs. Repurposing a melody from “Fires…III” with creepy bells and macabre piano, it cleverly inverts the typical function of an interlude, segueing out of a song rather than into one. More in the typical interlude camp is “Mystical Creation of Enlightenment.” Its Spanish-sounding acoustic plucks make for a soothing shift out of the savage “Servants” suite, while its ending modulation prefigures the ornery onset of the “Horns” suite. Oddly enough, it’s the eponymous instrumental that feels superfluous. “Toward the Necrofier” concludes the album with ominous space synths, incantatory spoken word, and tribal rhythms. “Horns…III,” however, ends with its own climax and a piano denouement, which makes the final instrumental feel like a coda to an album that doesn’t need more closure.

“Toward the Necrofier” does function as a serviceable springboard for a second spin of Transcend into Oblivion, an album which I ultimately recommend. It makes sense that Necrofier would cap off a work about rebirth with an eponymous song distilling the more unique elements of their sound. While Necrofier don’t fully realize their conceptual ambition, Transcend into Oblivion is sweet stuff regardless, demonstrating lots of promise for future outings. Black metal zealots of all stripes should strongly consider messing with these Texans.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed:256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Houston’s Necrofier first came on my radar when they played the 2024 Decibel Magazine Tour with Hulder, Devil Master, and Worm. Sadly, I missed their opening set, but gladly, I caught a recording of it on YouTube.1 Their raucous, crowd-pleasing performance compelled me to check out their recordings. At 36 minutes, debut Prophecies of Eternal Darkness (2021) is a lean, mean barrage of melodic black metal, while Burning Shadows in the Southern Night (2023) ups the ante with 47 minutes of stronger, more polished material. Necrofier’s (lone?) star seems to be on the rise since Decibel 2024, as their third album arrives on the mighty Metal Blade Records. Also on the rise are the band’s ambitions; Transcend into Oblivion spreads three three-songs suites and an eponymous closing track across a hefty 59 minutes. Everything is bigger in Texas, sure, but bigger doesn’t always mean better (or good).

Perhaps due to their sweltering abode, Necrofier draws black metal sustenance from the shivering environs of Scandinavia. Dissection is certainly an immediate reference point, if they excised the excursions into folky melodeath. Necrofier’s preferred melodicism swirls as a maelstrom of mobile power chords by guitarists Bakka and Semir Özerkan, propelled by the dexterous drumming of Dobber Beverly.2 The influence of Watain also feels present, especially since Bakka’s rasp sounds quite a bit like E. And early Emperor reigns here as well, before they fully unbound Prometheus. Violins, synthesizers, and harpsichords are felt more than heard outright, balancing a sweet spot production-wise à la Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk. On the unfortunate side of the production is bassist Mat Valentine, who gets lost in the shuffle. Nevertheless, Transcend into Oblivion consistently delivers quality black metal that is melodic but dangerous.

Transcend into Oblivion by Necrofier

Transcend into Oblivion progresses as three suites, each comprised of three songs. Together, they narrate a ‘Luciferian Night of the Dark Soul’: a spiritual awakening incites torment that ultimately engenders rebirth. Individually, they mostly play out as a collection of thematically-linked songs. “Fires of the Apocalypse, Light My Path” immediately kicks the door in (“Fires…I”) before kicking the door in again (“Fires…II”) and again—”Fires…III” is the strongest of the trio, but the listener begins wondering why these songs are presented as holistic units. The “Servants of Darkness, Guide My Way” trilogy comes closest to reaching suiteness. “Servants…I” starts with one of the album’s gnarliest trem riffs, “Servants…II” cools things down with an extended acoustic passage, and “Servants III” delightfully dips into doomy Middle-Eastern territory before black-metal blastoff. As for the “Horns of Destruction, Lift My Blade” triumvirate, it adds variety with d-beats, chunkier riffs, and a gong, but it feels like more of the same this deep into the album. There’s no real filler amongst the suites, but there aren’t any thrilling peaks either.

Keeping with their spiritualism, Necrofier nests numerology into Transcend into Oblivion, punctuating its three-song threesome with three instrumentals. For the most part, they effectively break up the black metal action. On the heels of the opening “Fires” suite, “Behold, the Birth of Ascension” conveys the onset of (re)birth pangs. Repurposing a melody from “Fires…III” with creepy bells and macabre piano, it cleverly inverts the typical function of an interlude, segueing out of a song rather than into one. More in the typical interlude camp is “Mystical Creation of Enlightenment.” Its Spanish-sounding acoustic plucks make for a soothing shift out of the savage “Servants” suite, while its ending modulation prefigures the ornery onset of the “Horns” suite. Oddly enough, it’s the eponymous instrumental that feels superfluous. “Toward the Necrofier” concludes the album with ominous space synths, incantatory spoken word, and tribal rhythms. “Horns…III,” however, ends with its own climax and a piano denouement, which makes the final instrumental feel like a coda to an album that doesn’t need more closure.

“Toward the Necrofier” does function as a serviceable springboard for a second spin of Transcend into Oblivion, an album which I ultimately recommend. It makes sense that Necrofier would cap off a work about rebirth with an eponymous song distilling the more unique elements of their sound. While Necrofier don’t fully realize their conceptual ambition, Transcend into Oblivion is sweet stuff regardless, demonstrating lots of promise for future outings. Black metal zealots of all stripes should strongly consider messing with these Texans.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed:256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Houston’s Necrofier first came on my radar when they played the 2024 Decibel Magazine Tour with Hulder, Devil Master, and Worm. Sadly, I missed their opening set, but gladly, I caught a recording of it on YouTube.1 Their raucous, crowd-pleasing performance compelled me to check out their recordings. At 36 minutes, debut Prophecies of Eternal Darkness (2021) is a lean, mean barrage of melodic black metal, while Burning Shadows in the Southern Night (2023) ups the ante with 47 minutes of stronger, more polished material. Necrofier’s (lone?) star seems to be on the rise since Decibel 2024, as their third album arrives on the mighty Metal Blade Records. Also on the rise are the band’s ambitions; Transcend into Oblivion spreads three three-songs suites and an eponymous closing track across a hefty 59 minutes. Everything is bigger in Texas, sure, but bigger doesn’t always mean better (or good).

Perhaps due to their sweltering abode, Necrofier draws black metal sustenance from the shivering environs of Scandinavia. Dissection is certainly an immediate reference point, if they excised the excursions into folky melodeath. Necrofier’s preferred melodicism swirls as a maelstrom of mobile power chords by guitarists Bakka and Semir Özerkan, propelled by the dexterous drumming of Dobber Beverly.2 The influence of Watain also feels present, especially since Bakka’s rasp sounds quite a bit like E. And early Emperor reigns here as well, before they fully unbound Prometheus. Violins, synthesizers, and harpsichords are felt more than heard outright, balancing a sweet spot production-wise à la Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk. On the unfortunate side of the production is bassist Mat Valentine, who gets lost in the shuffle. Nevertheless, Transcend into Oblivion consistently delivers quality black metal that is melodic but dangerous.

Transcend into Oblivion by Necrofier

Transcend into Oblivion progresses as three suites, each comprised of three songs. Together, they narrate a ‘Luciferian Night of the Dark Soul’: a spiritual awakening incites torment that ultimately engenders rebirth. Individually, they mostly play out as a collection of thematically-linked songs. “Fires of the Apocalypse, Light My Path” immediately kicks the door in (“Fires…I”) before kicking the door in again (“Fires…II”) and again—”Fires…III” is the strongest of the trio, but the listener begins wondering why these songs are presented as holistic units. The “Servants of Darkness, Guide My Way” trilogy comes closest to reaching suiteness. “Servants…I” starts with one of the album’s gnarliest trem riffs, “Servants…II” cools things down with an extended acoustic passage, and “Servants III” delightfully dips into doomy Middle-Eastern territory before black-metal blastoff. As for the “Horns of Destruction, Lift My Blade” triumvirate, it adds variety with d-beats, chunkier riffs, and a gong, but it feels like more of the same this deep into the album. There’s no real filler amongst the suites, but there aren’t any thrilling peaks either.

Keeping with their spiritualism, Necrofier nests numerology into Transcend into Oblivion, punctuating its three-song threesome with three instrumentals. For the most part, they effectively break up the black metal action. On the heels of the opening “Fires” suite, “Behold, the Birth of Ascension” conveys the onset of (re)birth pangs. Repurposing a melody from “Fires…III” with creepy bells and macabre piano, it cleverly inverts the typical function of an interlude, segueing out of a song rather than into one. More in the typical interlude camp is “Mystical Creation of Enlightenment.” Its Spanish-sounding acoustic plucks make for a soothing shift out of the savage “Servants” suite, while its ending modulation prefigures the ornery onset of the “Horns” suite. Oddly enough, it’s the eponymous instrumental that feels superfluous. “Toward the Necrofier” concludes the album with ominous space synths, incantatory spoken word, and tribal rhythms. “Horns…III,” however, ends with its own climax and a piano denouement, which makes the final instrumental feel like a coda to an album that doesn’t need more closure.

“Toward the Necrofier” does function as a serviceable springboard for a second spin of Transcend into Oblivion, an album which I ultimately recommend. It makes sense that Necrofier would cap off a work about rebirth with an eponymous song distilling the more unique elements of their sound. While Necrofier don’t fully realize their conceptual ambition, Transcend into Oblivion is sweet stuff regardless, demonstrating lots of promise for future outings. Black metal zealots of all stripes should strongly consider messing with these Texans.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed:256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Houston’s Necrofier first came on my radar when they played the 2024 Decibel Magazine Tour with Hulder, Devil Master, and Worm. Sadly, I missed their opening set, but gladly, I caught a recording of it on YouTube.1 Their raucous, crowd-pleasing performance compelled me to check out their recordings. At 36 minutes, debut Prophecies of Eternal Darkness (2021) is a lean, mean barrage of melodic black metal, while Burning Shadows in the Southern Night (2023) ups the ante with 47 minutes of stronger, more polished material. Necrofier’s (lone?) star seems to be on the rise since Decibel 2024, as their third album arrives on the mighty Metal Blade Records. Also on the rise are the band’s ambitions; Transcend into Oblivion spreads three three-songs suites and an eponymous closing track across a hefty 59 minutes. Everything is bigger in Texas, sure, but bigger doesn’t always mean better (or good).

Perhaps due to their sweltering abode, Necrofier draws black metal sustenance from the shivering environs of Scandinavia. Dissection is certainly an immediate reference point, if they excised the excursions into folky melodeath. Necrofier’s preferred melodicism swirls as a maelstrom of mobile power chords by guitarists Bakka and Semir Özerkan, propelled by the dexterous drumming of Dobber Beverly.2 The influence of Watain also feels present, especially since Bakka’s rasp sounds quite a bit like E. And early Emperor reigns here as well, before they fully unbound Prometheus. Violins, synthesizers, and harpsichords are felt more than heard outright, balancing a sweet spot production-wise à la Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk. On the unfortunate side of the production is bassist Mat Valentine, who gets lost in the shuffle. Nevertheless, Transcend into Oblivion consistently delivers quality black metal that is melodic but dangerous.

Transcend into Oblivion by Necrofier

Transcend into Oblivion progresses as three suites, each comprised of three songs. Together, they narrate a ‘Luciferian Night of the Dark Soul’: a spiritual awakening incites torment that ultimately engenders rebirth. Individually, they mostly play out as a collection of thematically-linked songs. “Fires of the Apocalypse, Light My Path” immediately kicks the door in (“Fires…I”) before kicking the door in again (“Fires…II”) and again—”Fires…III” is the strongest of the trio, but the listener begins wondering why these songs are presented as holistic units. The “Servants of Darkness, Guide My Way” trilogy comes closest to reaching suiteness. “Servants…I” starts with one of the album’s gnarliest trem riffs, “Servants…II” cools things down with an extended acoustic passage, and “Servants III” delightfully dips into doomy Middle-Eastern territory before black-metal blastoff. As for the “Horns of Destruction, Lift My Blade” triumvirate, it adds variety with d-beats, chunkier riffs, and a gong, but it feels like more of the same this deep into the album. There’s no real filler amongst the suites, but there aren’t any thrilling peaks either.

Keeping with their spiritualism, Necrofier nests numerology into Transcend into Oblivion, punctuating its three-song threesome with three instrumentals. For the most part, they effectively break up the black metal action. On the heels of the opening “Fires” suite, “Behold, the Birth of Ascension” conveys the onset of (re)birth pangs. Repurposing a melody from “Fires…III” with creepy bells and macabre piano, it cleverly inverts the typical function of an interlude, segueing out of a song rather than into one. More in the typical interlude camp is “Mystical Creation of Enlightenment.” Its Spanish-sounding acoustic plucks make for a soothing shift out of the savage “Servants” suite, while its ending modulation prefigures the ornery onset of the “Horns” suite. Oddly enough, it’s the eponymous instrumental that feels superfluous. “Toward the Necrofier” concludes the album with ominous space synths, incantatory spoken word, and tribal rhythms. “Horns…III,” however, ends with its own climax and a piano denouement, which makes the final instrumental feel like a coda to an album that doesn’t need more closure.

“Toward the Necrofier” does function as a serviceable springboard for a second spin of Transcend into Oblivion, an album which I ultimately recommend. It makes sense that Necrofier would cap off a work about rebirth with an eponymous song distilling the more unique elements of their sound. While Necrofier don’t fully realize their conceptual ambition, Transcend into Oblivion is sweet stuff regardless, demonstrating lots of promise for future outings. Black metal zealots of all stripes should strongly consider messing with these Texans.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed:256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Houston’s Necrofier first came on my radar when they played the 2024 Decibel Magazine Tour with Hulder, Devil Master, and Worm. Sadly, I missed their opening set, but gladly, I caught a recording of it on YouTube.1 Their raucous, crowd-pleasing performance compelled me to check out their recordings. At 36 minutes, debut Prophecies of Eternal Darkness (2021) is a lean, mean barrage of melodic black metal, while Burning Shadows in the Southern Night (2023) ups the ante with 47 minutes of stronger, more polished material. Necrofier’s (lone?) star seems to be on the rise since Decibel 2024, as their third album arrives on the mighty Metal Blade Records. Also on the rise are the band’s ambitions; Transcend into Oblivion spreads three three-songs suites and an eponymous closing track across a hefty 59 minutes. Everything is bigger in Texas, sure, but bigger doesn’t always mean better (or good).

Perhaps due to their sweltering abode, Necrofier draws black metal sustenance from the shivering environs of Scandinavia. Dissection is certainly an immediate reference point, if they excised the excursions into folky melodeath. Necrofier’s preferred melodicism swirls as a maelstrom of mobile power chords by guitarists Bakka and Semir Özerkan, propelled by the dexterous drumming of Dobber Beverly.2 The influence of Watain also feels present, especially since Bakka’s rasp sounds quite a bit like E. And early Emperor reigns here as well, before they fully unbound Prometheus. Violins, synthesizers, and harpsichords are felt more than heard outright, balancing a sweet spot production-wise à la Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk. On the unfortunate side of the production is bassist Mat Valentine, who gets lost in the shuffle. Nevertheless, Transcend into Oblivion consistently delivers quality black metal that is melodic but dangerous.

Transcend into Oblivion by Necrofier

Transcend into Oblivion progresses as three suites, each comprised of three songs. Together, they narrate a ‘Luciferian Night of the Dark Soul’: a spiritual awakening incites torment that ultimately engenders rebirth. Individually, they mostly play out as a collection of thematically-linked songs. “Fires of the Apocalypse, Light My Path” immediately kicks the door in (“Fires…I”) before kicking the door in again (“Fires…II”) and again—”Fires…III” is the strongest of the trio, but the listener begins wondering why these songs are presented as holistic units. The “Servants of Darkness, Guide My Way” trilogy comes closest to reaching suiteness. “Servants…I” starts with one of the album’s gnarliest trem riffs, “Servants…II” cools things down with an extended acoustic passage, and “Servants III” delightfully dips into doomy Middle-Eastern territory before black-metal blastoff. As for the “Horns of Destruction, Lift My Blade” triumvirate, it adds variety with d-beats, chunkier riffs, and a gong, but it feels like more of the same this deep into the album. There’s no real filler amongst the suites, but there aren’t any thrilling peaks either.

Keeping with their spiritualism, Necrofier nests numerology into Transcend into Oblivion, punctuating its three-song threesome with three instrumentals. For the most part, they effectively break up the black metal action. On the heels of the opening “Fires” suite, “Behold, the Birth of Ascension” conveys the onset of (re)birth pangs. Repurposing a melody from “Fires…III” with creepy bells and macabre piano, it cleverly inverts the typical function of an interlude, segueing out of a song rather than into one. More in the typical interlude camp is “Mystical Creation of Enlightenment.” Its Spanish-sounding acoustic plucks make for a soothing shift out of the savage “Servants” suite, while its ending modulation prefigures the ornery onset of the “Horns” suite. Oddly enough, it’s the eponymous instrumental that feels superfluous. “Toward the Necrofier” concludes the album with ominous space synths, incantatory spoken word, and tribal rhythms. “Horns…III,” however, ends with its own climax and a piano denouement, which makes the final instrumental feel like a coda to an album that doesn’t need more closure.

“Toward the Necrofier” does function as a serviceable springboard for a second spin of Transcend into Oblivion, an album which I ultimately recommend. It makes sense that Necrofier would cap off a work about rebirth with an eponymous song distilling the more unique elements of their sound. While Necrofier don’t fully realize their conceptual ambition, Transcend into Oblivion is sweet stuff regardless, demonstrating lots of promise for future outings. Black metal zealots of all stripes should strongly consider messing with these Texans.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed:256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Herezjarcha—Arch-Heretic—is the sophomore of Pennsylvania-based Profane Elegy, who are determined to escape genre boundaries. Following the trajectory set by 2023’s When All is Nothing, it sees the co-existence if not coalescence of black and death metal, but also an atmospheric, ambient kind of doom, and only doubles down on each aspect. It’s not the first time a metal artist has claimed to eschew categorization, and many, if not most, modern artists in extreme subgenres borrow from less extreme ones and incorporate generous reverb. Profane Elegy’s claims, therefore, don’t excite special interest whether you’ve heard the debut or not; listeners dis/like their sound on its own terms. However, there is actually something different about the way they combine their disparate aspects, and Herezjarcha is all the stronger for it.

Dropped blindly into Herezjarcha at any random moment, you’d be forgiven for taking it for trve blackened death—reminiscent in particular of Keres, or a less-polished Vredehammer. Rough snarls rip like cold wind across mean-faced arpeggios skittering their way up and down sinister scales to unforgiving percussive assaults, satisfyingly gnarly. But with a snap, Profane Elegy’s mood swings from malice to despair, and clean vocals lead a mournful refrain, layered, post-black strums dominating the soundscape. Opener “Exeunt Omnes,” which begins—as many others do—with wild, thrashy black metal energy, prefigures the way the album repeatedly changes the vibe and takes its listener by surprise, as the riffs soften and are joined by softly sung “ohh-hh-hh”s. Their blackened base is rent by change, from stripped-back ambience to hearty sung-screamed duets, black n’ roll irreverence to sludgy blackened doom and frosty black metal proper. Though sounding very little alike in actuality, the best comparison to Profane Elegy’s marrying of a vibrant blackened death with overt melodicism led by cleans is Slugdge.1 Herezjarcha is far more intriguing and multifaceted than may appear on face value.

Herezjarcha by Profane Elegy

Profane Elegy do nothing by half-measures, and throw themselves with equal vigour into both their heavier and softer sides. Their blackened death is gnarly and dynamic, whether overtly aggressive (“I AM”) or in squealing, drawling pursuit of flair and acrobatics (“Haunted” “And Then We Are Gone”). The second-wave-adjacent harsh vocal production, slightly muted and noisy, adds to the overall rawness, intensifying the more straightforwardly brutal and giving grit to the more melodic, atmospherically inclined. On the former side, things really do get heavy, and the churning, howl-ridden soundscape is irresistible, but as the album progresses, it’s the latter that sees Profane Elegy doing some genuinely cool things. Eerie scales blend into a layered cascade of strums (“As My Heart Turns to Ash”), or invite the chords of melancholia to join them (“The Accuser”); more and more space is devoted to variously stripped-back quiet. Things don’t just hang in reverb; space opens in which a savage riff briefly grows mournful, and after few turns of tension, an almost gazey feel prevails as cleans take the lead (“As My Heart…”). It’s not the addition of atmosphere that’s good, it’s how Profane Elegy positions a mournful, post-adjacent mood with their harsh blackened side that manages to not sacrifice either, even when combined.

Yet, in committing as fully as they do to the spirit and execution of their disparate visages, Profane Elegy demonstrate that they haven’t quite refined the formula for their coexistence. The churning, variously vicious and epic blackened death on display on Herezjarcha is raucously enjoyable, while the vulnerability and atmosphere brought in by other influences create a powerful emotionality and works very well in combination. This doesn’t prevent the slightly awkward way one transitions to the other—particularly in the record’s first half. The balance and integration do improve as the runtime progresses, to the extent that the latter end, if stretched to the length of a full LP, would receive a higher score of at least one half figure. Still, the difference in the sound between the raw and ugly and the comparatively glossy is marked and can give the impression that one is suddenly listening to a totally different artist when the former switches places entirely for the other.

What Profane Elegy do achieve with Herezarcha, however, is to assert their skill and personality. Amidst a sea of underground metal artists pitching their bold and subversive takes, Profane Elegy stand in the sureness of honest distinction. They might not have cracked the complete execution yet, at a slim 38 minutes, Herezarcha is more than worth the time it takes to experience their unpolished expression.

Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026