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#meshuggah — Public Fediverse posts

Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #meshuggah, aggregated by home.social.

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  1. Meshuggah Celebrate Two Landmark Albums with Anniversary Reissues

    Swedish extreme metal pioneers Meshuggah have announced newly remastered anniversary editions of two of their most influential albums: Destroy Erase Improve: 30th Anniversary Edition and Catch Thirtythree: 20th Anniversary Edition. Both releases will arrive on July 24, 2026, via Reigning Phoenix Music.

    voiceofnoir.com/2026/07/07/mes

  2. Meshuggah Celebrate Two Landmark Albums with Anniversary Reissues

    Swedish extreme metal pioneers Meshuggah have announced newly remastered anniversary editions of two of their most influential albums: Destroy Erase Improve: 30th Anniversary Edition and Catch Thirtythree: 20th Anniversary Edition. Both releases will arrive on July 24, 2026, via Reigning Phoenix Music.

    voiceofnoir.com/2026/07/07/mes

  3. Meshuggah Celebrate Two Landmark Albums with Anniversary Reissues

    Swedish extreme metal pioneers Meshuggah have announced newly remastered anniversary editions of two of their most influential albums: Destroy Erase Improve: 30th Anniversary Edition and Catch Thirtythree: 20th Anniversary Edition. Both releases will arrive on July 24, 2026, via Reigning Phoenix Music.

    voiceofnoir.com/2026/07/07/mes

  4. RE: mastodon.social/@Gargron/11659

    One may hate someone or something, because one does not understand.

    Their music evokes an emotion, to me that makes it art.

    One does not have to understand art.

    I feel the lyrics, the dissonance and polyrhythms…and I like it.

    #meshuggah

  5. RE: mastodon.social/@Gargron/11659

    One may hate someone or something, because one does not understand.

    Their music evokes an emotion, to me that makes it art.

    One does not have to understand art.

    I feel the lyrics, the dissonance and polyrhythms…and I like it.

    #meshuggah

  6. How have I not heard of #Meshuggah until today?

  7. How have I not heard of #Meshuggah until today?

  8. How have I not heard of #Meshuggah until today?

  9. Gutvoid – Liminal Shrines Review By Owlswald

    Canadian death metal remains one of the country’s most dependable exports. Our neighbors to the North must put something in the water because high-caliber extremity seems to ooze from the trees like maple syrup. The next such group vying for international market share is Toronto-based quintet Gutvoid. Their debut, Durance of Lightless Horizons, contained flashes of brilliance, but occasionally lost focus due to its length. Yet, Steel still found it signaled a group with all the marks of greatness. Three years and an EP later, their sophomore release, Liminal Shrines, now finds the Canadians launching the first of a two-part concept that tells dark, supernatural stories of protagonists who pass through liminal gateways and emerge transfigured. Prepare yourselves—it’s time for Portal Kombat.

    Musically, Liminal Shrines fits its theme perfectly. Whether it’s a scholar reciting a spell that causes his soul to leave his body (“Spell Reliquary”), a person dying in their sleep and becoming a ghost (“Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I”), or workers on a job in deep space accidentally releasing angry spirits that possess them (“Chasm of Displaced Souls”), Gutvoid blends classic death metal—à la Bolt Thrower—and doom-crusted horror. The resulting barrage of reality-twisting shifts feels like one is being dragged through a vortex of riffs and rhythms. Balancing Morbid Angel’s brute-force with thoughtful composition, tracks like “Smothering Sea” and “Spell Reliquary” sport pummeling riffs that often transition into dissonant alarms and spiraling arpeggiated guitar work, while the record’s bulkiest tracks (“Chasm of Displaced Souls,” “Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I”) play things safer, prioritizing melody and weight over the adventurous aggression of the album’s earlier tracks.

    Liminal Shrines by GUTVOID

    Across Liminal Shrines’ front end, Gutvoid shows the range of their talent and songwriting chops. Intro tracks are typically very hit or miss, but curtain-raiser “Ruinous Gateways” sets the tone well, with a thick, audible bass presence and its sashaying, tremolodic guitar lines that feel purposeful rather than ornamental. From there, Gutvoid shows notable command of dynamics and structure. “Spell Reliquary” constantly morphs through melodic arpeggios, walking guitar bridges, and spiraling leads, creating a midpoint packed with engaging twists and turns. Although it ends up toiling for over eight minutes, it never loses its way. “Smothering Sea” raises the bar even higher, folding Meshuggah-style dissonance into rustic, psychedelic grooves and expressive, cosmic–toned leads. The approach is adventurous yet grounded, smartly snapping back to straightforward death when needed. By Liminal Shrines’ halfway mark, Gutvoid’s confidence is brimming, as they continuously attack the nether regions with crushing blast-driven heaviness, unexpected prog flair—like Neil Peart’s (Rush) trademark ride pattern (“Umbriel’s Door”)—and devastating breakdowns.

    But strangely, Gutvoid’s ambition tails off around “Umbriel’s Door,” and Liminal Shrines finds the quartet slipping back into some familiar habits—most notably, an overreliance on length that drowns the impact of otherwise great ideas. “Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I,” in particular, feels like a classic case of bloat, taking far too long to evolve out of its mid-tempo Bolt Thrower-esque plods and spacious leads. It’s a shame because there are some genuinely great moments here—the arpeggiated guitar section halfway through, the surprise clean vocal harmonies, and the acoustic ending with tasteful off‑beat drum accents—but each arrives too late and lingers too long, making the twelve-minute runtime feel unjustified for what is ultimately a restrained song compared to Gutvoid’s earlier aspirations. “Chasm of Displaced Souls” fares better thanks to more immediate momentum, inventive drumming, and a compelling atmospheric interlude that recalls “Ruinous Gateways,” yet even here a sense of repetition creeps in. While these tracks aren’t bad by any stretch, they reinforce the group’s tendency to trust duration over concision to create gravity, consequently stretching songs beyond their natural lifespan.

    There’s no question Gutvoid has the chops, but Liminal Shrines hovers somewhere between good and very good. I can’t help but feel let down by a final block that doesn’t match the ambition of the first half, especially when their strongest material proves they don’t need to rely on excess to hit hard and clearly know how to write great songs that stick. I’ll be watching for the second half of this series, hoping the closer shows up partially reborn. The good news, though, is that Gutvoid has still given us enough to chew on while we wait for them to unlock their full potential.

    Rating: Good
    DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
    Label: Profound Lore
    Websites: gutvoid.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/gutvoidofficial
    Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

    #2026 #30 #BoltThrower #CanadianMetal #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #Gutvoid #LiminalShrines #Mar26 #Meshuggah #MorbidAngel #ProfoundLore #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Rush
  10. Gutvoid – Liminal Shrines Review By Owlswald

    Canadian death metal remains one of the country’s most dependable exports. Our neighbors to the North must put something in the water because high-caliber extremity seems to ooze from the trees like maple syrup. The next such group vying for international market share is Toronto-based quintet Gutvoid. Their debut, Durance of Lightless Horizons, contained flashes of brilliance, but occasionally lost focus due to its length. Yet, Steel still found it signaled a group with all the marks of greatness. Three years and an EP later, their sophomore release, Liminal Shrines, now finds the Canadians launching the first of a two-part concept that tells dark, supernatural stories of protagonists who pass through liminal gateways and emerge transfigured. Prepare yourselves—it’s time for Portal Kombat.

    Musically, Liminal Shrines fits its theme perfectly. Whether it’s a scholar reciting a spell that causes his soul to leave his body (“Spell Reliquary”), a person dying in their sleep and becoming a ghost (“Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I”), or workers on a job in deep space accidentally releasing angry spirits that possess them (“Chasm of Displaced Souls”), Gutvoid blends classic death metal—à la Bolt Thrower—and doom-crusted horror. The resulting barrage of reality-twisting shifts feels like one is being dragged through a vortex of riffs and rhythms. Balancing Morbid Angel’s brute-force with thoughtful composition, tracks like “Smothering Sea” and “Spell Reliquary” sport pummeling riffs that often transition into dissonant alarms and spiraling arpeggiated guitar work, while the record’s bulkiest tracks (“Chasm of Displaced Souls,” “Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I”) play things safer, prioritizing melody and weight over the adventurous aggression of the album’s earlier tracks.

    Liminal Shrines by GUTVOID

    Across Liminal Shrines’ front end, Gutvoid shows the range of their talent and songwriting chops. Intro tracks are typically very hit or miss, but curtain-raiser “Ruinous Gateways” sets the tone well, with a thick, audible bass presence and its sashaying, tremolodic guitar lines that feel purposeful rather than ornamental. From there, Gutvoid shows notable command of dynamics and structure. “Spell Reliquary” constantly morphs through melodic arpeggios, walking guitar bridges, and spiraling leads, creating a midpoint packed with engaging twists and turns. Although it ends up toiling for over eight minutes, it never loses its way. “Smothering Sea” raises the bar even higher, folding Meshuggah-style dissonance into rustic, psychedelic grooves and expressive, cosmic–toned leads. The approach is adventurous yet grounded, smartly snapping back to straightforward death when needed. By Liminal Shrines’ halfway mark, Gutvoid’s confidence is brimming, as they continuously attack the nether regions with crushing blast-driven heaviness, unexpected prog flair—like Neil Peart’s (Rush) trademark ride pattern (“Umbriel’s Door”)—and devastating breakdowns.

    But strangely, Gutvoid’s ambition tails off around “Umbriel’s Door,” and Liminal Shrines finds the quartet slipping back into some familiar habits—most notably, an overreliance on length that drowns the impact of otherwise great ideas. “Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I,” in particular, feels like a classic case of bloat, taking far too long to evolve out of its mid-tempo Bolt Thrower-esque plods and spacious leads. It’s a shame because there are some genuinely great moments here—the arpeggiated guitar section halfway through, the surprise clean vocal harmonies, and the acoustic ending with tasteful off‑beat drum accents—but each arrives too late and lingers too long, making the twelve-minute runtime feel unjustified for what is ultimately a restrained song compared to Gutvoid’s earlier aspirations. “Chasm of Displaced Souls” fares better thanks to more immediate momentum, inventive drumming, and a compelling atmospheric interlude that recalls “Ruinous Gateways,” yet even here a sense of repetition creeps in. While these tracks aren’t bad by any stretch, they reinforce the group’s tendency to trust duration over concision to create gravity, consequently stretching songs beyond their natural lifespan.

    There’s no question Gutvoid has the chops, but Liminal Shrines hovers somewhere between good and very good. I can’t help but feel let down by a final block that doesn’t match the ambition of the first half, especially when their strongest material proves they don’t need to rely on excess to hit hard and clearly know how to write great songs that stick. I’ll be watching for the second half of this series, hoping the closer shows up partially reborn. The good news, though, is that Gutvoid has still given us enough to chew on while we wait for them to unlock their full potential.

    Rating: Good
    DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
    Label: Profound Lore
    Websites: gutvoid.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/gutvoidofficial
    Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

    #2026 #30 #BoltThrower #CanadianMetal #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #Gutvoid #LiminalShrines #Mar26 #Meshuggah #MorbidAngel #ProfoundLore #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Rush
  11. Gutvoid – Liminal Shrines Review By Owlswald

    Canadian death metal remains one of the country’s most dependable exports. Our neighbors to the North must put something in the water because high-caliber extremity seems to ooze from the trees like maple syrup. The next such group vying for international market share is Toronto-based quintet Gutvoid. Their debut, Durance of Lightless Horizons, contained flashes of brilliance, but occasionally lost focus due to its length. Yet, Steel still found it signaled a group with all the marks of greatness. Three years and an EP later, their sophomore release, Liminal Shrines, now finds the Canadians launching the first of a two-part concept that tells dark, supernatural stories of protagonists who pass through liminal gateways and emerge transfigured. Prepare yourselves—it’s time for Portal Kombat.

    Musically, Liminal Shrines fits its theme perfectly. Whether it’s a scholar reciting a spell that causes his soul to leave his body (“Spell Reliquary”), a person dying in their sleep and becoming a ghost (“Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I”), or workers on a job in deep space accidentally releasing angry spirits that possess them (“Chasm of Displaced Souls”), Gutvoid blends classic death metal—à la Bolt Thrower—and doom-crusted horror. The resulting barrage of reality-twisting shifts feels like one is being dragged through a vortex of riffs and rhythms. Balancing Morbid Angel’s brute-force with thoughtful composition, tracks like “Smothering Sea” and “Spell Reliquary” sport pummeling riffs that often transition into dissonant alarms and spiraling arpeggiated guitar work, while the record’s bulkiest tracks (“Chasm of Displaced Souls,” “Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I”) play things safer, prioritizing melody and weight over the adventurous aggression of the album’s earlier tracks.

    Liminal Shrines by GUTVOID

    Across Liminal Shrines’ front end, Gutvoid shows the range of their talent and songwriting chops. Intro tracks are typically very hit or miss, but curtain-raiser “Ruinous Gateways” sets the tone well, with a thick, audible bass presence and its sashaying, tremolodic guitar lines that feel purposeful rather than ornamental. From there, Gutvoid shows notable command of dynamics and structure. “Spell Reliquary” constantly morphs through melodic arpeggios, walking guitar bridges, and spiraling leads, creating a midpoint packed with engaging twists and turns. Although it ends up toiling for over eight minutes, it never loses its way. “Smothering Sea” raises the bar even higher, folding Meshuggah-style dissonance into rustic, psychedelic grooves and expressive, cosmic–toned leads. The approach is adventurous yet grounded, smartly snapping back to straightforward death when needed. By Liminal Shrines’ halfway mark, Gutvoid’s confidence is brimming, as they continuously attack the nether regions with crushing blast-driven heaviness, unexpected prog flair—like Neil Peart’s (Rush) trademark ride pattern (“Umbriel’s Door”)—and devastating breakdowns.

    But strangely, Gutvoid’s ambition tails off around “Umbriel’s Door,” and Liminal Shrines finds the quartet slipping back into some familiar habits—most notably, an overreliance on length that drowns the impact of otherwise great ideas. “Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I,” in particular, feels like a classic case of bloat, taking far too long to evolve out of its mid-tempo Bolt Thrower-esque plods and spacious leads. It’s a shame because there are some genuinely great moments here—the arpeggiated guitar section halfway through, the surprise clean vocal harmonies, and the acoustic ending with tasteful off‑beat drum accents—but each arrives too late and lingers too long, making the twelve-minute runtime feel unjustified for what is ultimately a restrained song compared to Gutvoid’s earlier aspirations. “Chasm of Displaced Souls” fares better thanks to more immediate momentum, inventive drumming, and a compelling atmospheric interlude that recalls “Ruinous Gateways,” yet even here a sense of repetition creeps in. While these tracks aren’t bad by any stretch, they reinforce the group’s tendency to trust duration over concision to create gravity, consequently stretching songs beyond their natural lifespan.

    There’s no question Gutvoid has the chops, but Liminal Shrines hovers somewhere between good and very good. I can’t help but feel let down by a final block that doesn’t match the ambition of the first half, especially when their strongest material proves they don’t need to rely on excess to hit hard and clearly know how to write great songs that stick. I’ll be watching for the second half of this series, hoping the closer shows up partially reborn. The good news, though, is that Gutvoid has still given us enough to chew on while we wait for them to unlock their full potential.

    Rating: Good
    DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
    Label: Profound Lore
    Websites: gutvoid.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/gutvoidofficial
    Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

    #2026 #30 #BoltThrower #CanadianMetal #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #Gutvoid #LiminalShrines #Mar26 #Meshuggah #MorbidAngel #ProfoundLore #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Rush
  12. Gutvoid – Liminal Shrines Review By Owlswald

    Canadian death metal remains one of the country’s most dependable exports. Our neighbors to the North must put something in the water because high-caliber extremity seems to ooze from the trees like maple syrup. The next such group vying for international market share is Toronto-based quintet Gutvoid. Their debut, Durance of Lightless Horizons, contained flashes of brilliance, but occasionally lost focus due to its length. Yet, Steel still found it signaled a group with all the marks of greatness. Three years and an EP later, their sophomore release, Liminal Shrines, now finds the Canadians launching the first of a two-part concept that tells dark, supernatural stories of protagonists who pass through liminal gateways and emerge transfigured. Prepare yourselves—it’s time for Portal Kombat.

    Musically, Liminal Shrines fits its theme perfectly. Whether it’s a scholar reciting a spell that causes his soul to leave his body (“Spell Reliquary”), a person dying in their sleep and becoming a ghost (“Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I”), or workers on a job in deep space accidentally releasing angry spirits that possess them (“Chasm of Displaced Souls”), Gutvoid blends classic death metal—à la Bolt Thrower—and doom-crusted horror. The resulting barrage of reality-twisting shifts feels like one is being dragged through a vortex of riffs and rhythms. Balancing Morbid Angel’s brute-force with thoughtful composition, tracks like “Smothering Sea” and “Spell Reliquary” sport pummeling riffs that often transition into dissonant alarms and spiraling arpeggiated guitar work, while the record’s bulkiest tracks (“Chasm of Displaced Souls,” “Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I”) play things safer, prioritizing melody and weight over the adventurous aggression of the album’s earlier tracks.

    Liminal Shrines by GUTVOID

    Across Liminal Shrines’ front end, Gutvoid shows the range of their talent and songwriting chops. Intro tracks are typically very hit or miss, but curtain-raiser “Ruinous Gateways” sets the tone well, with a thick, audible bass presence and its sashaying, tremolodic guitar lines that feel purposeful rather than ornamental. From there, Gutvoid shows notable command of dynamics and structure. “Spell Reliquary” constantly morphs through melodic arpeggios, walking guitar bridges, and spiraling leads, creating a midpoint packed with engaging twists and turns. Although it ends up toiling for over eight minutes, it never loses its way. “Smothering Sea” raises the bar even higher, folding Meshuggah-style dissonance into rustic, psychedelic grooves and expressive, cosmic–toned leads. The approach is adventurous yet grounded, smartly snapping back to straightforward death when needed. By Liminal Shrines’ halfway mark, Gutvoid’s confidence is brimming, as they continuously attack the nether regions with crushing blast-driven heaviness, unexpected prog flair—like Neil Peart’s (Rush) trademark ride pattern (“Umbriel’s Door”)—and devastating breakdowns.

    But strangely, Gutvoid’s ambition tails off around “Umbriel’s Door,” and Liminal Shrines finds the quartet slipping back into some familiar habits—most notably, an overreliance on length that drowns the impact of otherwise great ideas. “Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I,” in particular, feels like a classic case of bloat, taking far too long to evolve out of its mid-tempo Bolt Thrower-esque plods and spacious leads. It’s a shame because there are some genuinely great moments here—the arpeggiated guitar section halfway through, the surprise clean vocal harmonies, and the acoustic ending with tasteful off‑beat drum accents—but each arrives too late and lingers too long, making the twelve-minute runtime feel unjustified for what is ultimately a restrained song compared to Gutvoid’s earlier aspirations. “Chasm of Displaced Souls” fares better thanks to more immediate momentum, inventive drumming, and a compelling atmospheric interlude that recalls “Ruinous Gateways,” yet even here a sense of repetition creeps in. While these tracks aren’t bad by any stretch, they reinforce the group’s tendency to trust duration over concision to create gravity, consequently stretching songs beyond their natural lifespan.

    There’s no question Gutvoid has the chops, but Liminal Shrines hovers somewhere between good and very good. I can’t help but feel let down by a final block that doesn’t match the ambition of the first half, especially when their strongest material proves they don’t need to rely on excess to hit hard and clearly know how to write great songs that stick. I’ll be watching for the second half of this series, hoping the closer shows up partially reborn. The good news, though, is that Gutvoid has still given us enough to chew on while we wait for them to unlock their full potential.

    Rating: Good
    DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
    Label: Profound Lore
    Websites: gutvoid.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/gutvoidofficial
    Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

    #2026 #30 #BoltThrower #CanadianMetal #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #Gutvoid #LiminalShrines #Mar26 #Meshuggah #MorbidAngel #ProfoundLore #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Rush
  13. Gutvoid – Liminal Shrines Review By Owlswald

    Canadian death metal remains one of the country’s most dependable exports. Our neighbors to the North must put something in the water because high-caliber extremity seems to ooze from the trees like maple syrup. The next such group vying for international market share is Toronto-based quintet Gutvoid. Their debut, Durance of Lightless Horizons, contained flashes of brilliance, but occasionally lost focus due to its length. Yet, Steel still found it signaled a group with all the marks of greatness. Three years and an EP later, their sophomore release, Liminal Shrines, now finds the Canadians launching the first of a two-part concept that tells dark, supernatural stories of protagonists who pass through liminal gateways and emerge transfigured. Prepare yourselves—it’s time for Portal Kombat.

    Musically, Liminal Shrines fits its theme perfectly. Whether it’s a scholar reciting a spell that causes his soul to leave his body (“Spell Reliquary”), a person dying in their sleep and becoming a ghost (“Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I”), or workers on a job in deep space accidentally releasing angry spirits that possess them (“Chasm of Displaced Souls”), Gutvoid blends classic death metal—à la Bolt Thrower—and doom-crusted horror. The resulting barrage of reality-twisting shifts feels like one is being dragged through a vortex of riffs and rhythms. Balancing Morbid Angel’s brute-force with thoughtful composition, tracks like “Smothering Sea” and “Spell Reliquary” sport pummeling riffs that often transition into dissonant alarms and spiraling arpeggiated guitar work, while the record’s bulkiest tracks (“Chasm of Displaced Souls,” “Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I”) play things safer, prioritizing melody and weight over the adventurous aggression of the album’s earlier tracks.

    Liminal Shrines by GUTVOID

    Across Liminal Shrines’ front end, Gutvoid shows the range of their talent and songwriting chops. Intro tracks are typically very hit or miss, but curtain-raiser “Ruinous Gateways” sets the tone well, with a thick, audible bass presence and its sashaying, tremolodic guitar lines that feel purposeful rather than ornamental. From there, Gutvoid shows notable command of dynamics and structure. “Spell Reliquary” constantly morphs through melodic arpeggios, walking guitar bridges, and spiraling leads, creating a midpoint packed with engaging twists and turns. Although it ends up toiling for over eight minutes, it never loses its way. “Smothering Sea” raises the bar even higher, folding Meshuggah-style dissonance into rustic, psychedelic grooves and expressive, cosmic–toned leads. The approach is adventurous yet grounded, smartly snapping back to straightforward death when needed. By Liminal Shrines’ halfway mark, Gutvoid’s confidence is brimming, as they continuously attack the nether regions with crushing blast-driven heaviness, unexpected prog flair—like Neil Peart’s (Rush) trademark ride pattern (“Umbriel’s Door”)—and devastating breakdowns.

    But strangely, Gutvoid’s ambition tails off around “Umbriel’s Door,” and Liminal Shrines finds the quartet slipping back into some familiar habits—most notably, an overreliance on length that drowns the impact of otherwise great ideas. “Lead Me Beyond the Sleeping I,” in particular, feels like a classic case of bloat, taking far too long to evolve out of its mid-tempo Bolt Thrower-esque plods and spacious leads. It’s a shame because there are some genuinely great moments here—the arpeggiated guitar section halfway through, the surprise clean vocal harmonies, and the acoustic ending with tasteful off‑beat drum accents—but each arrives too late and lingers too long, making the twelve-minute runtime feel unjustified for what is ultimately a restrained song compared to Gutvoid’s earlier aspirations. “Chasm of Displaced Souls” fares better thanks to more immediate momentum, inventive drumming, and a compelling atmospheric interlude that recalls “Ruinous Gateways,” yet even here a sense of repetition creeps in. While these tracks aren’t bad by any stretch, they reinforce the group’s tendency to trust duration over concision to create gravity, consequently stretching songs beyond their natural lifespan.

    There’s no question Gutvoid has the chops, but Liminal Shrines hovers somewhere between good and very good. I can’t help but feel let down by a final block that doesn’t match the ambition of the first half, especially when their strongest material proves they don’t need to rely on excess to hit hard and clearly know how to write great songs that stick. I’ll be watching for the second half of this series, hoping the closer shows up partially reborn. The good news, though, is that Gutvoid has still given us enough to chew on while we wait for them to unlock their full potential.

    Rating: Good
    DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
    Label: Profound Lore
    Websites: gutvoid.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/gutvoidofficial
    Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

    #2026 #30 #BoltThrower #CanadianMetal #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #Gutvoid #LiminalShrines #Mar26 #Meshuggah #MorbidAngel #ProfoundLore #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Rush
  14. @HailsandAles
    After checking what others suggested, it's either
    #Ministry: The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste
    or
    #Meshuggah: s/t, but it's an EP
    so it has to be

    #DreamTheater: When Dream and Day Unite

  15. @HailsandAles
    After checking what others suggested, it's either
    #Ministry: The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste
    or
    #Meshuggah: s/t, but it's an EP
    so it has to be

    #DreamTheater: When Dream and Day Unite

  16. @HailsandAles
    After checking what others suggested, it's either
    #Ministry: The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste
    or
    #Meshuggah: s/t, but it's an EP
    so it has to be

    #DreamTheater: When Dream and Day Unite

  17. @HailsandAles
    After checking what others suggested, it's either
    #Ministry: The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste
    or
    #Meshuggah: s/t, but it's an EP
    so it has to be

    #DreamTheater: When Dream and Day Unite

  18. @HailsandAles
    After checking what others suggested, it's either
    #Ministry: The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste
    or
    #Meshuggah: s/t, but it's an EP
    so it has to be

    #DreamTheater: When Dream and Day Unite

  19. Viele nutzen sanfte Musik zum einschlafen, das funktioniert hier nicht. #Meshuggah bringen den Kopf in den Schlaf indem sie ihn auffordern schwere mathematische Formeln aufzubröseln die diese Kapelle musikalisch vorlegt. Komplexe Tanzmusik halt.
    #music #concert #metal
    youtu.be/ESSOqLY8a1k?si=LzjIMe

  20. Viele nutzen sanfte Musik zum einschlafen, das funktioniert hier nicht. #Meshuggah bringen den Kopf in den Schlaf indem sie ihn auffordern schwere mathematische Formeln aufzubröseln die diese Kapelle musikalisch vorlegt. Komplexe Tanzmusik halt.
    #music #concert #metal
    youtu.be/ESSOqLY8a1k?si=LzjIMe

  21. Viele nutzen sanfte Musik zum einschlafen, das funktioniert hier nicht. #Meshuggah bringen den Kopf in den Schlaf indem sie ihn auffordern schwere mathematische Formeln aufzubröseln die diese Kapelle musikalisch vorlegt. Komplexe Tanzmusik halt.
    #music #concert #metal
    youtu.be/ESSOqLY8a1k?si=LzjIMe

  22. ZU – Ferrum Sidereum Review By Andy-War-Hall

    Literal metals are always cooler when they come from space. A blade forged from meteoric iron is effectively the same as one made from iron you can find on Earth, but don’t tell me you wouldn’t want the space knife way more. Likewise, metal music always sounds cooler when it feels like it’s from another world. Enter ZU, the Italian jazz metal trio comprised of guitarist/bassist Massimo Pupillo, saxophonist/keyboardist Luca Mai, and drummer Paolo Mangardi. ZU forged their latest record, Ferrum Sidereum, Latin for “iron of (or from) the stars,” to sonically approach something otherworldly, drawing from the historical spiritual significance of meteoric iron as inspiration for their music. And forge ZU did, because Ferrum Sidereum is an 80-minute double album of progressive, industrial, punk-infused, and fully instrumental jazz metal. But is Ferrum Sidereum a gift from the stars, or should you look for your metal closer to home?

    Ferrum Sidereum is a record that revels in texture and rhythm more so than melody. Like ObZen-era Meshuggah, ZU play melodically bare but rhythmically exquisite riffs, with their prog and metal elements manifesting into bouncy, syncopated djent jabs prominent on tracks like “Golgotha” and “Kether.” Guitars are low (“Ferrum Sidereum”), bass is plucked with abandon (“Charagma”), and drums roll with jazz-practiced precision and metal aggression (“La Donna Vestita Di Sole”). Industrial elements and saxophone conspire to either inject a sense of progression to simple riffs (“Hymn of the Pearl”) or, more often than not, tear your ears a new one with punkish, dissonant whines and whistles (“Fuoco Saturnio”). ZU bounce between these loud, crunched moments with Tool-like passages of meditative, methodical calm and repetition with a hodgepodge of percussive additions to fill out space (“Pleroma”). You likely won’t be able to hum anything off Ferrum Sidereum by the end, but it’s undeniable that ZU are very particular about sounding a very particular way.

    Ferrum Sidereum by ZU

    ZU have the chops to carry the load of a double album, but Ferrum Sidereum unfortunately doesn’t have the substance to fill one. To achieve a sense of spiritual ritualism, ZU obviously had to rely on repetition within songs, but it quickly just gets excessive and bland. Differences between songs—like “AI Hive Mind” and its distinct, mathcore level of scronk in its guitar tone and saxophone or “Golgotha” and its use of ghostly choir to build unnerving atmospheres—get lost in the flood of crushed djenting that better defines Ferrum Sidereum. ZU stick to such a strict palette that following along to the album as a whole becomes tedious, and the lack of melodic leads or even just a singer make Ferrum Sidereum easy to drift away from mentally. Eighty minutes and no hook is a big ask for any listener. Ferrum Sidereum’s uniform construction does lend it a sense of unity, and ZU’s expert musicianship and occasional atmospheres do make the record a good background listen, but for the purpose of intentional, critical listening, it leaves much to be desired.

    This is deeply disappointing to me, because Ferrum Sidereum can at times be simply transcendent. When it comes to shaping otherworldly and religious atmospheres, when ZU get it right, they get it right. “La Donna Vestita Di Sole” feels like a festival from another planet with its twisty sax riff, while the conclusion to the closing title track uses the dichotomy of furious palm-muted riffing and complete silence to make an ending both meditative and succinct. The one-two punch of “The Celestial Bull and the White Lady” and “Hymn of the Pearl” sees ZU at their most sublime, awash with delayed clean guitars and tribal drumming derived from the same sacred geometry as Lateralus, both stirring and refreshing to the mind and soul. There’s great material on Ferrum Sidereum, songs so good I can see clearly the greatness that ZU see in it, but material buried under about as much runtime of bloat as well.

    I know there’s a world where Ferrum Sidereum clicks with me, but here and now it doesn’t. ZU are wildly talented musicians, and I know there are fans of instrumental metal who will gobble this up, but for me too much of what makes Ferrum Sidereum enthralling (its rich atmosphere and contemplative nature) is sidelined by what makes it boring (djent). “Hymn of the Pearl” may make a reappearance in December for SotY contention, but I think I’ve gotten enough of ZU’s latest as a whole. But I’ll keep an eye out for falling rocks, regardless.

    Rating: Disappointing
    DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
    Label: House of Mythology
    Websites: zuhom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/vajrazu | zuism.net
    Releases Worldwide: January 9th, 2026

    #20 #2026 #Djent #FerrumSidereum #HouseOfMythology #IndustrialMetal #InstrumentalMetal #ItalianMetal #Jan26 #Meshuggah #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Tool #Zu
  23. ZU – Ferrum Sidereum Review By Andy-War-Hall

    Literal metals are always cooler when they come from space. A blade forged from meteoric iron is effectively the same as one made from iron you can find on Earth, but don’t tell me you wouldn’t want the space knife way more. Likewise, metal music always sounds cooler when it feels like it’s from another world. Enter ZU, the Italian jazz metal trio comprised of guitarist/bassist Massimo Pupillo, saxophonist/keyboardist Luca Mai, and drummer Paolo Mangardi. ZU forged their latest record, Ferrum Sidereum, Latin for “iron of (or from) the stars,” to sonically approach something otherworldly, drawing from the historical spiritual significance of meteoric iron as inspiration for their music. And forge ZU did, because Ferrum Sidereum is an 80-minute double album of progressive, industrial, punk-infused, and fully instrumental jazz metal. But is Ferrum Sidereum a gift from the stars, or should you look for your metal closer to home?

    Ferrum Sidereum is a record that revels in texture and rhythm more so than melody. Like ObZen-era Meshuggah, ZU play melodically bare but rhythmically exquisite riffs, with their prog and metal elements manifesting into bouncy, syncopated djent jabs prominent on tracks like “Golgotha” and “Kether.” Guitars are low (“Ferrum Sidereum”), bass is plucked with abandon (“Charagma”), and drums roll with jazz-practiced precision and metal aggression (“La Donna Vestita Di Sole”). Industrial elements and saxophone conspire to either inject a sense of progression to simple riffs (“Hymn of the Pearl”) or, more often than not, tear your ears a new one with punkish, dissonant whines and whistles (“Fuoco Saturnio”). ZU bounce between these loud, crunched moments with Tool-like passages of meditative, methodical calm and repetition with a hodgepodge of percussive additions to fill out space (“Pleroma”). You likely won’t be able to hum anything off Ferrum Sidereum by the end, but it’s undeniable that ZU are very particular about sounding a very particular way.

    Ferrum Sidereum by ZU

    ZU have the chops to carry the load of a double album, but Ferrum Sidereum unfortunately doesn’t have the substance to fill one. To achieve a sense of spiritual ritualism, ZU obviously had to rely on repetition within songs, but it quickly just gets excessive and bland. Differences between songs—like “AI Hive Mind” and its distinct, mathcore level of scronk in its guitar tone and saxophone or “Golgotha” and its use of ghostly choir to build unnerving atmospheres—get lost in the flood of crushed djenting that better defines Ferrum Sidereum. ZU stick to such a strict palette that following along to the album as a whole becomes tedious, and the lack of melodic leads or even just a singer make Ferrum Sidereum easy to drift away from mentally. Eighty minutes and no hook is a big ask for any listener. Ferrum Sidereum’s uniform construction does lend it a sense of unity, and ZU’s expert musicianship and occasional atmospheres do make the record a good background listen, but for the purpose of intentional, critical listening, it leaves much to be desired.

    This is deeply disappointing to me, because Ferrum Sidereum can at times be simply transcendent. When it comes to shaping otherworldly and religious atmospheres, when ZU get it right, they get it right. “La Donna Vestita Di Sole” feels like a festival from another planet with its twisty sax riff, while the conclusion to the closing title track uses the dichotomy of furious palm-muted riffing and complete silence to make an ending both meditative and succinct. The one-two punch of “The Celestial Bull and the White Lady” and “Hymn of the Pearl” sees ZU at their most sublime, awash with delayed clean guitars and tribal drumming derived from the same sacred geometry as Lateralus, both stirring and refreshing to the mind and soul. There’s great material on Ferrum Sidereum, songs so good I can see clearly the greatness that ZU see in it, but material buried under about as much runtime of bloat as well.

    I know there’s a world where Ferrum Sidereum clicks with me, but here and now it doesn’t. ZU are wildly talented musicians, and I know there are fans of instrumental metal who will gobble this up, but for me too much of what makes Ferrum Sidereum enthralling (its rich atmosphere and contemplative nature) is sidelined by what makes it boring (djent). “Hymn of the Pearl” may make a reappearance in December for SotY contention, but I think I’ve gotten enough of ZU’s latest as a whole. But I’ll keep an eye out for falling rocks, regardless.

    Rating: Disappointing
    DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
    Label: House of Mythology
    Websites: zuhom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/vajrazu | zuism.net
    Releases Worldwide: January 9th, 2026

    #20 #2026 #Djent #FerrumSidereum #HouseOfMythology #IndustrialMetal #InstrumentalMetal #ItalianMetal #Jan26 #Meshuggah #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Tool #Zu
  24. ZU – Ferrum Sidereum Review By Andy-War-Hall

    Literal metals are always cooler when they come from space. A blade forged from meteoric iron is effectively the same as one made from iron you can find on Earth, but don’t tell me you wouldn’t want the space knife way more. Likewise, metal music always sounds cooler when it feels like it’s from another world. Enter ZU, the Italian jazz metal trio comprised of guitarist/bassist Massimo Pupillo, saxophonist/keyboardist Luca Mai, and drummer Paolo Mangardi. ZU forged their latest record, Ferrum Sidereum, Latin for “iron of (or from) the stars,” to sonically approach something otherworldly, drawing from the historical spiritual significance of meteoric iron as inspiration for their music. And forge ZU did, because Ferrum Sidereum is an 80-minute double album of progressive, industrial, punk-infused, and fully instrumental jazz metal. But is Ferrum Sidereum a gift from the stars, or should you look for your metal closer to home?

    Ferrum Sidereum is a record that revels in texture and rhythm more so than melody. Like ObZen-era Meshuggah, ZU play melodically bare but rhythmically exquisite riffs, with their prog and metal elements manifesting into bouncy, syncopated djent jabs prominent on tracks like “Golgotha” and “Kether.” Guitars are low (“Ferrum Sidereum”), bass is plucked with abandon (“Charagma”), and drums roll with jazz-practiced precision and metal aggression (“La Donna Vestita Di Sole”). Industrial elements and saxophone conspire to either inject a sense of progression to simple riffs (“Hymn of the Pearl”) or, more often than not, tear your ears a new one with punkish, dissonant whines and whistles (“Fuoco Saturnio”). ZU bounce between these loud, crunched moments with Tool-like passages of meditative, methodical calm and repetition with a hodgepodge of percussive additions to fill out space (“Pleroma”). You likely won’t be able to hum anything off Ferrum Sidereum by the end, but it’s undeniable that ZU are very particular about sounding a very particular way.

    Ferrum Sidereum by ZU

    ZU have the chops to carry the load of a double album, but Ferrum Sidereum unfortunately doesn’t have the substance to fill one. To achieve a sense of spiritual ritualism, ZU obviously had to rely on repetition within songs, but it quickly just gets excessive and bland. Differences between songs—like “AI Hive Mind” and its distinct, mathcore level of scronk in its guitar tone and saxophone or “Golgotha” and its use of ghostly choir to build unnerving atmospheres—get lost in the flood of crushed djenting that better defines Ferrum Sidereum. ZU stick to such a strict palette that following along to the album as a whole becomes tedious, and the lack of melodic leads or even just a singer make Ferrum Sidereum easy to drift away from mentally. Eighty minutes and no hook is a big ask for any listener. Ferrum Sidereum’s uniform construction does lend it a sense of unity, and ZU’s expert musicianship and occasional atmospheres do make the record a good background listen, but for the purpose of intentional, critical listening, it leaves much to be desired.

    This is deeply disappointing to me, because Ferrum Sidereum can at times be simply transcendent. When it comes to shaping otherworldly and religious atmospheres, when ZU get it right, they get it right. “La Donna Vestita Di Sole” feels like a festival from another planet with its twisty sax riff, while the conclusion to the closing title track uses the dichotomy of furious palm-muted riffing and complete silence to make an ending both meditative and succinct. The one-two punch of “The Celestial Bull and the White Lady” and “Hymn of the Pearl” sees ZU at their most sublime, awash with delayed clean guitars and tribal drumming derived from the same sacred geometry as Lateralus, both stirring and refreshing to the mind and soul. There’s great material on Ferrum Sidereum, songs so good I can see clearly the greatness that ZU see in it, but material buried under about as much runtime of bloat as well.

    I know there’s a world where Ferrum Sidereum clicks with me, but here and now it doesn’t. ZU are wildly talented musicians, and I know there are fans of instrumental metal who will gobble this up, but for me too much of what makes Ferrum Sidereum enthralling (its rich atmosphere and contemplative nature) is sidelined by what makes it boring (djent). “Hymn of the Pearl” may make a reappearance in December for SotY contention, but I think I’ve gotten enough of ZU’s latest as a whole. But I’ll keep an eye out for falling rocks, regardless.

    Rating: Disappointing
    DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
    Label: House of Mythology
    Websites: zuhom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/vajrazu | zuism.net
    Releases Worldwide: January 9th, 2026

    #20 #2026 #Djent #FerrumSidereum #HouseOfMythology #IndustrialMetal #InstrumentalMetal #ItalianMetal #Jan26 #Meshuggah #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Tool #Zu
  25. ZU – Ferrum Sidereum Review By Andy-War-Hall

    Literal metals are always cooler when they come from space. A blade forged from meteoric iron is effectively the same as one made from iron you can find on Earth, but don’t tell me you wouldn’t want the space knife way more. Likewise, metal music always sounds cooler when it feels like it’s from another world. Enter ZU, the Italian jazz metal trio comprised of guitarist/bassist Massimo Pupillo, saxophonist/keyboardist Luca Mai, and drummer Paolo Mangardi. ZU forged their latest record, Ferrum Sidereum, Latin for “iron of (or from) the stars,” to sonically approach something otherworldly, drawing from the historical spiritual significance of meteoric iron as inspiration for their music. And forge ZU did, because Ferrum Sidereum is an 80-minute double album of progressive, industrial, punk-infused, and fully instrumental jazz metal. But is Ferrum Sidereum a gift from the stars, or should you look for your metal closer to home?

    Ferrum Sidereum is a record that revels in texture and rhythm more so than melody. Like ObZen-era Meshuggah, ZU play melodically bare but rhythmically exquisite riffs, with their prog and metal elements manifesting into bouncy, syncopated djent jabs prominent on tracks like “Golgotha” and “Kether.” Guitars are low (“Ferrum Sidereum”), bass is plucked with abandon (“Charagma”), and drums roll with jazz-practiced precision and metal aggression (“La Donna Vestita Di Sole”). Industrial elements and saxophone conspire to either inject a sense of progression to simple riffs (“Hymn of the Pearl”) or, more often than not, tear your ears a new one with punkish, dissonant whines and whistles (“Fuoco Saturnio”). ZU bounce between these loud, crunched moments with Tool-like passages of meditative, methodical calm and repetition with a hodgepodge of percussive additions to fill out space (“Pleroma”). You likely won’t be able to hum anything off Ferrum Sidereum by the end, but it’s undeniable that ZU are very particular about sounding a very particular way.

    Ferrum Sidereum by ZU

    ZU have the chops to carry the load of a double album, but Ferrum Sidereum unfortunately doesn’t have the substance to fill one. To achieve a sense of spiritual ritualism, ZU obviously had to rely on repetition within songs, but it quickly just gets excessive and bland. Differences between songs—like “AI Hive Mind” and its distinct, mathcore level of scronk in its guitar tone and saxophone or “Golgotha” and its use of ghostly choir to build unnerving atmospheres—get lost in the flood of crushed djenting that better defines Ferrum Sidereum. ZU stick to such a strict palette that following along to the album as a whole becomes tedious, and the lack of melodic leads or even just a singer make Ferrum Sidereum easy to drift away from mentally. Eighty minutes and no hook is a big ask for any listener. Ferrum Sidereum’s uniform construction does lend it a sense of unity, and ZU’s expert musicianship and occasional atmospheres do make the record a good background listen, but for the purpose of intentional, critical listening, it leaves much to be desired.

    This is deeply disappointing to me, because Ferrum Sidereum can at times be simply transcendent. When it comes to shaping otherworldly and religious atmospheres, when ZU get it right, they get it right. “La Donna Vestita Di Sole” feels like a festival from another planet with its twisty sax riff, while the conclusion to the closing title track uses the dichotomy of furious palm-muted riffing and complete silence to make an ending both meditative and succinct. The one-two punch of “The Celestial Bull and the White Lady” and “Hymn of the Pearl” sees ZU at their most sublime, awash with delayed clean guitars and tribal drumming derived from the same sacred geometry as Lateralus, both stirring and refreshing to the mind and soul. There’s great material on Ferrum Sidereum, songs so good I can see clearly the greatness that ZU see in it, but material buried under about as much runtime of bloat as well.

    I know there’s a world where Ferrum Sidereum clicks with me, but here and now it doesn’t. ZU are wildly talented musicians, and I know there are fans of instrumental metal who will gobble this up, but for me too much of what makes Ferrum Sidereum enthralling (its rich atmosphere and contemplative nature) is sidelined by what makes it boring (djent). “Hymn of the Pearl” may make a reappearance in December for SotY contention, but I think I’ve gotten enough of ZU’s latest as a whole. But I’ll keep an eye out for falling rocks, regardless.

    Rating: Disappointing
    DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
    Label: House of Mythology
    Websites: zuhom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/vajrazu | zuism.net
    Releases Worldwide: January 9th, 2026

    #20 #2026 #Djent #FerrumSidereum #HouseOfMythology #IndustrialMetal #InstrumentalMetal #ItalianMetal #Jan26 #Meshuggah #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Tool #Zu
  26. ZU – Ferrum Sidereum Review By Andy-War-Hall

    Literal metals are always cooler when they come from space. A blade forged from meteoric iron is effectively the same as one made from iron you can find on Earth, but don’t tell me you wouldn’t want the space knife way more. Likewise, metal music always sounds cooler when it feels like it’s from another world. Enter ZU, the Italian jazz metal trio comprised of guitarist/bassist Massimo Pupillo, saxophonist/keyboardist Luca Mai, and drummer Paolo Mangardi. ZU forged their latest record, Ferrum Sidereum, Latin for “iron of (or from) the stars,” to sonically approach something otherworldly, drawing from the historical spiritual significance of meteoric iron as inspiration for their music. And forge ZU did, because Ferrum Sidereum is an 80-minute double album of progressive, industrial, punk-infused, and fully instrumental jazz metal. But is Ferrum Sidereum a gift from the stars, or should you look for your metal closer to home?

    Ferrum Sidereum is a record that revels in texture and rhythm more so than melody. Like ObZen-era Meshuggah, ZU play melodically bare but rhythmically exquisite riffs, with their prog and metal elements manifesting into bouncy, syncopated djent jabs prominent on tracks like “Golgotha” and “Kether.” Guitars are low (“Ferrum Sidereum”), bass is plucked with abandon (“Charagma”), and drums roll with jazz-practiced precision and metal aggression (“La Donna Vestita Di Sole”). Industrial elements and saxophone conspire to either inject a sense of progression to simple riffs (“Hymn of the Pearl”) or, more often than not, tear your ears a new one with punkish, dissonant whines and whistles (“Fuoco Saturnio”). ZU bounce between these loud, crunched moments with Tool-like passages of meditative, methodical calm and repetition with a hodgepodge of percussive additions to fill out space (“Pleroma”). You likely won’t be able to hum anything off Ferrum Sidereum by the end, but it’s undeniable that ZU are very particular about sounding a very particular way.

    Ferrum Sidereum by ZU

    ZU have the chops to carry the load of a double album, but Ferrum Sidereum unfortunately doesn’t have the substance to fill one. To achieve a sense of spiritual ritualism, ZU obviously had to rely on repetition within songs, but it quickly just gets excessive and bland. Differences between songs—like “AI Hive Mind” and its distinct, mathcore level of scronk in its guitar tone and saxophone or “Golgotha” and its use of ghostly choir to build unnerving atmospheres—get lost in the flood of crushed djenting that better defines Ferrum Sidereum. ZU stick to such a strict palette that following along to the album as a whole becomes tedious, and the lack of melodic leads or even just a singer make Ferrum Sidereum easy to drift away from mentally. Eighty minutes and no hook is a big ask for any listener. Ferrum Sidereum’s uniform construction does lend it a sense of unity, and ZU’s expert musicianship and occasional atmospheres do make the record a good background listen, but for the purpose of intentional, critical listening, it leaves much to be desired.

    This is deeply disappointing to me, because Ferrum Sidereum can at times be simply transcendent. When it comes to shaping otherworldly and religious atmospheres, when ZU get it right, they get it right. “La Donna Vestita Di Sole” feels like a festival from another planet with its twisty sax riff, while the conclusion to the closing title track uses the dichotomy of furious palm-muted riffing and complete silence to make an ending both meditative and succinct. The one-two punch of “The Celestial Bull and the White Lady” and “Hymn of the Pearl” sees ZU at their most sublime, awash with delayed clean guitars and tribal drumming derived from the same sacred geometry as Lateralus, both stirring and refreshing to the mind and soul. There’s great material on Ferrum Sidereum, songs so good I can see clearly the greatness that ZU see in it, but material buried under about as much runtime of bloat as well.

    I know there’s a world where Ferrum Sidereum clicks with me, but here and now it doesn’t. ZU are wildly talented musicians, and I know there are fans of instrumental metal who will gobble this up, but for me too much of what makes Ferrum Sidereum enthralling (its rich atmosphere and contemplative nature) is sidelined by what makes it boring (djent). “Hymn of the Pearl” may make a reappearance in December for SotY contention, but I think I’ve gotten enough of ZU’s latest as a whole. But I’ll keep an eye out for falling rocks, regardless.

    Rating: Disappointing
    DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
    Label: House of Mythology
    Websites: zuhom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/vajrazu | zuism.net
    Releases Worldwide: January 9th, 2026

    #20 #2026 #Djent #FerrumSidereum #HouseOfMythology #IndustrialMetal #InstrumentalMetal #ItalianMetal #Jan26 #Meshuggah #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Tool #Zu
  27. What an exceptional record. They even bring up #Meshuggah vibes on "A.I. Hive Mind". HEAVY AF.

    It hurts to know, that for most metalheads this is just too extreme and the fan base will stay rather small. Not because of the heaviness, but constant variation in styles.

    "Pleroma" f.e. starts with light #Electronic beats and percussions and peaks in utter jazz/sax chaos.

    Maybe i need to bump it to a 10/10 rating.
    RE: defcon42.net/objects/9272de9b-…

  28. Und das ist nicht nur meine Lieblingskapelle zum einschlafen sondern kommt immer dann zum Einsatz wenn es mir nicht ganz so gut geht.
    #meshuggah #metal #music #concert
    youtu.be/kheqWMlYASg?si=LIvHld

  29. Und das ist nicht nur meine Lieblingskapelle zum einschlafen sondern kommt immer dann zum Einsatz wenn es mir nicht ganz so gut geht.
    #meshuggah #metal #music #concert
    youtu.be/kheqWMlYASg?si=LIvHld

  30. Und das ist nicht nur meine Lieblingskapelle zum einschlafen sondern kommt immer dann zum Einsatz wenn es mir nicht ganz so gut geht.
    #meshuggah #metal #music #concert
    youtu.be/kheqWMlYASg?si=LIvHld

  31. Feb 23 (I REALLY need to space these out): Ever wondered how paradigm shifts happen in music? We put it to the test with this "Classical Music to Extreme Metal Pipeline" based thread. #Meshuggah bsky.app/profile/alt... 8/27

    RE: https://bsky.app/profile/did:plc:lf4a2b6djtuv5l3lz7ffsyv4/post/3liu3apm4h222

  32. Feb 23 (I REALLY need to space these out): Ever wondered how paradigm shifts happen in music? We put it to the test with this "Classical Music to Extreme Metal Pipeline" based thread. #Meshuggah bsky.app/profile/alt... 8/27

    RE: https://bsky.app/profile/did:plc:lf4a2b6djtuv5l3lz7ffsyv4/post/3liu3apm4h222

  33. Pillars of Cacophony – Paralipomena [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

    By Owlswald

    Amidst the routine of our daily lives, it’s easy to overlook the hidden, complex universe that exists just outside our normal gaze. It only takes a bit of magnification to reveal it: a place where cells shift and collide, forming the invisible architecture of existence. Capturing the awe of this biological machinery is a tall order. Yet, Dominik, multi-instrumentalist and mastermind of Pillars of Cacophony, has created a soundscape with second LP, Paralipomena, that does exactly that, exploring the building blocks of life through sound. Though tackling the topic of bioscience through the lens of disso and technical death metal may be a volatile experiment, this Austrian knows exactly how to harness the power of biology to bridge the divide. You see, Dominik is a bioscientist by trade, literally mining his own PhD thesis to drive the chaos that is Pillars of Cacophony. This academic authenticity is what sets Paralipomena apart, resulting in a rare fusion of intellect and brutality that you simply can’t afford to miss.

    The genome of Paralipomena is an unstable body of technical and dissonant death metal, forged in the chaotic intersection of Ulcerate and The Faceless. The album’s kinetic energy flows freely across synapses, connecting a skin of hooky riffs, tremolo surges, and punishing down-picking. Intelligent songwriting and flash-fire percussion surgically underpin this to create an unsettling cacophony of sonic friction. While tracks like “The Cradle,” “The Discord,” and “Retina” demonstrate Pillars of Cacophony’s hyper-speed technicality, cuts like “Cachexia,” “Mitosis,” and the Meshuggahian “Landscapes of Permanence” twist the formula, venturing into unpredictability with jazzy permutations and calm, contemplative sections (“Maps of Disintegration”). This is the soundtrack to inter-cellular warfare—a torrent of fast-twitch riffing and searing discordance, punctuated by pressurized blast beats, static-laced roars, and the acidic twang of bass, transporting one into a world seen only through a high-powered scope.

    Paralipomena is rife with entropy, yet its multi-layered cytoskeleton maintains homeostasis. Pillars of Cacophony’s layered guitars clash and coordinate simultaneously—one flooding the airwaves with raw, unsettling dissonance, while the other focuses on calculated technicality and micro-precision picking. “Of Plagues and Fibrils” immediately delivers Paralipomena’s chemistry of chaos and precise equilibrium in its moving, shifting main palm-muted riff, infecting the listener’s brain like a disease with its immediate, powerful hooks. The drums’ complex cymbal flares and tom rolls only enhance the track’s memorability, providing badass atmosphere and tasteful technicality in equal measure. Pillars of Cacophony showcases this same momentum again in “Retina,” which pushes a Necrophagist-like tempo—particularly during its groovy double-bass sections and unidirectional picking—and “The Cradle,” where the rhythm section anchors the frenetic guitar work and furious tremolodic leads.

    Ever since it dropped earlier this year, Paralipomena continues to grip me. It succeeds by concentrating sonic violence to create the ultimate soundtrack to a hidden world—one that feels as technically layered as it is immediately catchy. Pillars of Cacophony has forged an album that pairs an extreme and dystopian soundscape with the surgical authority of empirical sciences, carving a bespoke path outside the predictable confines of death metal. If you’re a fan of disso or tech-death and somehow missed Paralipomena, consider this your diagnosis and remedy that malady immediately.

    Tracks to Check Out: “Of Plagues and Fibrils,” “The Cradle,” “Retina,” “The Discord.”

    #2025 #AustrianMetal #DeathMetal #Meshuggah #Necrophagist #Paralipomena #PillarsOfCacophony #TechnicalDeathMetal #TeratogenRecords #TheFaceless #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #TYMHM #Ulcerate

  34. Pillars of Cacophony – Paralipomena [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

    By Owlswald

    Amidst the routine of our daily lives, it’s easy to overlook the hidden, complex universe that exists just outside our normal gaze. It only takes a bit of magnification to reveal it: a place where cells shift and collide, forming the invisible architecture of existence. Capturing the awe of this biological machinery is a tall order. Yet, Dominik, multi-instrumentalist and mastermind of Pillars of Cacophony, has created a soundscape with second LP, Paralipomena, that does exactly that, exploring the building blocks of life through sound. Though tackling the topic of bioscience through the lens of disso and technical death metal may be a volatile experiment, this Austrian knows exactly how to harness the power of biology to bridge the divide. You see, Dominik is a bioscientist by trade, literally mining his own PhD thesis to drive the chaos that is Pillars of Cacophony. This academic authenticity is what sets Paralipomena apart, resulting in a rare fusion of intellect and brutality that you simply can’t afford to miss.

    The genome of Paralipomena is an unstable body of technical and dissonant death metal, forged in the chaotic intersection of Ulcerate and The Faceless. The album’s kinetic energy flows freely across synapses, connecting a skin of hooky riffs, tremolo surges, and punishing down-picking. Intelligent songwriting and flash-fire percussion surgically underpin this to create an unsettling cacophony of sonic friction. While tracks like “The Cradle,” “The Discord,” and “Retina” demonstrate Pillars of Cacophony’s hyper-speed technicality, cuts like “Cachexia,” “Mitosis,” and the Meshuggahian “Landscapes of Permanence” twist the formula, venturing into unpredictability with jazzy permutations and calm, contemplative sections (“Maps of Disintegration”). This is the soundtrack to inter-cellular warfare—a torrent of fast-twitch riffing and searing discordance, punctuated by pressurized blast beats, static-laced roars, and the acidic twang of bass, transporting one into a world seen only through a high-powered scope.

    Paralipomena is rife with entropy, yet its multi-layered cytoskeleton maintains homeostasis. Pillars of Cacophony’s layered guitars clash and coordinate simultaneously—one flooding the airwaves with raw, unsettling dissonance, while the other focuses on calculated technicality and micro-precision picking. “Of Plagues and Fibrils” immediately delivers Paralipomena’s chemistry of chaos and precise equilibrium in its moving, shifting main palm-muted riff, infecting the listener’s brain like a disease with its immediate, powerful hooks. The drums’ complex cymbal flares and tom rolls only enhance the track’s memorability, providing badass atmosphere and tasteful technicality in equal measure. Pillars of Cacophony showcases this same momentum again in “Retina,” which pushes a Necrophagist-like tempo—particularly during its groovy double-bass sections and unidirectional picking—and “The Cradle,” where the rhythm section anchors the frenetic guitar work and furious tremolodic leads.

    Ever since it dropped earlier this year, Paralipomena continues to grip me. It succeeds by concentrating sonic violence to create the ultimate soundtrack to a hidden world—one that feels as technically layered as it is immediately catchy. Pillars of Cacophony has forged an album that pairs an extreme and dystopian soundscape with the surgical authority of empirical sciences, carving a bespoke path outside the predictable confines of death metal. If you’re a fan of disso or tech-death and somehow missed Paralipomena, consider this your diagnosis and remedy that malady immediately.

    Tracks to Check Out: “Of Plagues and Fibrils,” “The Cradle,” “Retina,” “The Discord.”

    #2025 #AustrianMetal #DeathMetal #Meshuggah #Necrophagist #Paralipomena #PillarsOfCacophony #TechnicalDeathMetal #TeratogenRecords #TheFaceless #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #TYMHM #Ulcerate

  35. Pillars of Cacophony – Paralipomena [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

    By Owlswald

    Amidst the routine of our daily lives, it’s easy to overlook the hidden, complex universe that exists just outside our normal gaze. It only takes a bit of magnification to reveal it: a place where cells shift and collide, forming the invisible architecture of existence. Capturing the awe of this biological machinery is a tall order. Yet, Dominik, multi-instrumentalist and mastermind of Pillars of Cacophony, has created a soundscape with second LP, Paralipomena, that does exactly that, exploring the building blocks of life through sound. Though tackling the topic of bioscience through the lens of disso and technical death metal may be a volatile experiment, this Austrian knows exactly how to harness the power of biology to bridge the divide. You see, Dominik is a bioscientist by trade, literally mining his own PhD thesis to drive the chaos that is Pillars of Cacophony. This academic authenticity is what sets Paralipomena apart, resulting in a rare fusion of intellect and brutality that you simply can’t afford to miss.

    The genome of Paralipomena is an unstable body of technical and dissonant death metal, forged in the chaotic intersection of Ulcerate and The Faceless. The album’s kinetic energy flows freely across synapses, connecting a skin of hooky riffs, tremolo surges, and punishing down-picking. Intelligent songwriting and flash-fire percussion surgically underpin this to create an unsettling cacophony of sonic friction. While tracks like “The Cradle,” “The Discord,” and “Retina” demonstrate Pillars of Cacophony’s hyper-speed technicality, cuts like “Cachexia,” “Mitosis,” and the Meshuggahian “Landscapes of Permanence” twist the formula, venturing into unpredictability with jazzy permutations and calm, contemplative sections (“Maps of Disintegration”). This is the soundtrack to inter-cellular warfare—a torrent of fast-twitch riffing and searing discordance, punctuated by pressurized blast beats, static-laced roars, and the acidic twang of bass, transporting one into a world seen only through a high-powered scope.

    Paralipomena is rife with entropy, yet its multi-layered cytoskeleton maintains homeostasis. Pillars of Cacophony’s layered guitars clash and coordinate simultaneously—one flooding the airwaves with raw, unsettling dissonance, while the other focuses on calculated technicality and micro-precision picking. “Of Plagues and Fibrils” immediately delivers Paralipomena’s chemistry of chaos and precise equilibrium in its moving, shifting main palm-muted riff, infecting the listener’s brain like a disease with its immediate, powerful hooks. The drums’ complex cymbal flares and tom rolls only enhance the track’s memorability, providing badass atmosphere and tasteful technicality in equal measure. Pillars of Cacophony showcases this same momentum again in “Retina,” which pushes a Necrophagist-like tempo—particularly during its groovy double-bass sections and unidirectional picking—and “The Cradle,” where the rhythm section anchors the frenetic guitar work and furious tremolodic leads.

    Ever since it dropped earlier this year, Paralipomena continues to grip me. It succeeds by concentrating sonic violence to create the ultimate soundtrack to a hidden world—one that feels as technically layered as it is immediately catchy. Pillars of Cacophony has forged an album that pairs an extreme and dystopian soundscape with the surgical authority of empirical sciences, carving a bespoke path outside the predictable confines of death metal. If you’re a fan of disso or tech-death and somehow missed Paralipomena, consider this your diagnosis and remedy that malady immediately.

    Tracks to Check Out: “Of Plagues and Fibrils,” “The Cradle,” “Retina,” “The Discord.”

    #2025 #AustrianMetal #DeathMetal #Meshuggah #Necrophagist #Paralipomena #PillarsOfCacophony #TechnicalDeathMetal #TeratogenRecords #TheFaceless #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #TYMHM #Ulcerate

  36. Pillars of Cacophony – Paralipomena [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

    By Owlswald

    Amidst the routine of our daily lives, it’s easy to overlook the hidden, complex universe that exists just outside our normal gaze. It only takes a bit of magnification to reveal it: a place where cells shift and collide, forming the invisible architecture of existence. Capturing the awe of this biological machinery is a tall order. Yet, Dominik, multi-instrumentalist and mastermind of Pillars of Cacophony, has created a soundscape with second LP, Paralipomena, that does exactly that, exploring the building blocks of life through sound. Though tackling the topic of bioscience through the lens of disso and technical death metal may be a volatile experiment, this Austrian knows exactly how to harness the power of biology to bridge the divide. You see, Dominik is a bioscientist by trade, literally mining his own PhD thesis to drive the chaos that is Pillars of Cacophony. This academic authenticity is what sets Paralipomena apart, resulting in a rare fusion of intellect and brutality that you simply can’t afford to miss.

    The genome of Paralipomena is an unstable body of technical and dissonant death metal, forged in the chaotic intersection of Ulcerate and The Faceless. The album’s kinetic energy flows freely across synapses, connecting a skin of hooky riffs, tremolo surges, and punishing down-picking. Intelligent songwriting and flash-fire percussion surgically underpin this to create an unsettling cacophony of sonic friction. While tracks like “The Cradle,” “The Discord,” and “Retina” demonstrate Pillars of Cacophony’s hyper-speed technicality, cuts like “Cachexia,” “Mitosis,” and the Meshuggahian “Landscapes of Permanence” twist the formula, venturing into unpredictability with jazzy permutations and calm, contemplative sections (“Maps of Disintegration”). This is the soundtrack to inter-cellular warfare—a torrent of fast-twitch riffing and searing discordance, punctuated by pressurized blast beats, static-laced roars, and the acidic twang of bass, transporting one into a world seen only through a high-powered scope.

    Paralipomena is rife with entropy, yet its multi-layered cytoskeleton maintains homeostasis. Pillars of Cacophony’s layered guitars clash and coordinate simultaneously—one flooding the airwaves with raw, unsettling dissonance, while the other focuses on calculated technicality and micro-precision picking. “Of Plagues and Fibrils” immediately delivers Paralipomena’s chemistry of chaos and precise equilibrium in its moving, shifting main palm-muted riff, infecting the listener’s brain like a disease with its immediate, powerful hooks. The drums’ complex cymbal flares and tom rolls only enhance the track’s memorability, providing badass atmosphere and tasteful technicality in equal measure. Pillars of Cacophony showcases this same momentum again in “Retina,” which pushes a Necrophagist-like tempo—particularly during its groovy double-bass sections and unidirectional picking—and “The Cradle,” where the rhythm section anchors the frenetic guitar work and furious tremolodic leads.

    Ever since it dropped earlier this year, Paralipomena continues to grip me. It succeeds by concentrating sonic violence to create the ultimate soundtrack to a hidden world—one that feels as technically layered as it is immediately catchy. Pillars of Cacophony has forged an album that pairs an extreme and dystopian soundscape with the surgical authority of empirical sciences, carving a bespoke path outside the predictable confines of death metal. If you’re a fan of disso or tech-death and somehow missed Paralipomena, consider this your diagnosis and remedy that malady immediately.

    Tracks to Check Out: “Of Plagues and Fibrils,” “The Cradle,” “Retina,” “The Discord.”

    #2025 #AustrianMetal #DeathMetal #Meshuggah #Necrophagist #Paralipomena #PillarsOfCacophony #TechnicalDeathMetal #TeratogenRecords #TheFaceless #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #TYMHM #Ulcerate

  37. Pillars of Cacophony – Paralipomena [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

    By Owlswald

    Amidst the routine of our daily lives, it’s easy to overlook the hidden, complex universe that exists just outside our normal gaze. It only takes a bit of magnification to reveal it: a place where cells shift and collide, forming the invisible architecture of existence. Capturing the awe of this biological machinery is a tall order. Yet, Dominik, multi-instrumentalist and mastermind of Pillars of Cacophony, has created a soundscape with second LP, Paralipomena, that does exactly that, exploring the building blocks of life through sound. Though tackling the topic of bioscience through the lens of disso and technical death metal may be a volatile experiment, this Austrian knows exactly how to harness the power of biology to bridge the divide. You see, Dominik is a bioscientist by trade, literally mining his own PhD thesis to drive the chaos that is Pillars of Cacophony. This academic authenticity is what sets Paralipomena apart, resulting in a rare fusion of intellect and brutality that you simply can’t afford to miss.

    The genome of Paralipomena is an unstable body of technical and dissonant death metal, forged in the chaotic intersection of Ulcerate and The Faceless. The album’s kinetic energy flows freely across synapses, connecting a skin of hooky riffs, tremolo surges, and punishing down-picking. Intelligent songwriting and flash-fire percussion surgically underpin this to create an unsettling cacophony of sonic friction. While tracks like “The Cradle,” “The Discord,” and “Retina” demonstrate Pillars of Cacophony’s hyper-speed technicality, cuts like “Cachexia,” “Mitosis,” and the Meshuggahian “Landscapes of Permanence” twist the formula, venturing into unpredictability with jazzy permutations and calm, contemplative sections (“Maps of Disintegration”). This is the soundtrack to inter-cellular warfare—a torrent of fast-twitch riffing and searing discordance, punctuated by pressurized blast beats, static-laced roars, and the acidic twang of bass, transporting one into a world seen only through a high-powered scope.

    Paralipomena is rife with entropy, yet its multi-layered cytoskeleton maintains homeostasis. Pillars of Cacophony’s layered guitars clash and coordinate simultaneously—one flooding the airwaves with raw, unsettling dissonance, while the other focuses on calculated technicality and micro-precision picking. “Of Plagues and Fibrils” immediately delivers Paralipomena’s chemistry of chaos and precise equilibrium in its moving, shifting main palm-muted riff, infecting the listener’s brain like a disease with its immediate, powerful hooks. The drums’ complex cymbal flares and tom rolls only enhance the track’s memorability, providing badass atmosphere and tasteful technicality in equal measure. Pillars of Cacophony showcases this same momentum again in “Retina,” which pushes a Necrophagist-like tempo—particularly during its groovy double-bass sections and unidirectional picking—and “The Cradle,” where the rhythm section anchors the frenetic guitar work and furious tremolodic leads.

    Ever since it dropped earlier this year, Paralipomena continues to grip me. It succeeds by concentrating sonic violence to create the ultimate soundtrack to a hidden world—one that feels as technically layered as it is immediately catchy. Pillars of Cacophony has forged an album that pairs an extreme and dystopian soundscape with the surgical authority of empirical sciences, carving a bespoke path outside the predictable confines of death metal. If you’re a fan of disso or tech-death and somehow missed Paralipomena, consider this your diagnosis and remedy that malady immediately.

    Tracks to Check Out: “Of Plagues and Fibrils,” “The Cradle,” “Retina,” “The Discord.”

    #2025 #AustrianMetal #DeathMetal #Meshuggah #Necrophagist #Paralipomena #PillarsOfCacophony #TechnicalDeathMetal #TeratogenRecords #TheFaceless #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #TYMHM #Ulcerate

  38. Skogskult – Skogskult Review

    By Grin Reaper

    Known for cultivating legendary acts such as Cult of Luna, Meshuggah, and Refused, Umeå, Sweden, sows fertile ground for seminal rock and metal bands.1 Formed in 2022, Skogskult joins their compatriots with a self-titled debut of grimy stoner doom in hand. From Swedish, Skogskult translates to ‘forest cult,’ and with roots firmly planted in scuzzy soil, this fey foursome drinks deeply from the wells of Acid King, Monolord, and Black Sabbath. Skogskult conjures six tracks that pull from Scandinavian mythology and the arcane to warn of dark days getting darker,2 setting a grim and eldritch tone from the outset. So come, friend, and take my hand. Let us walk into these woods together and uncover what mysteries lurk within.

    Skogskult studied their forebears closely, as anyone who blindly tangles with Skogskult won’t need long to guess its genre. Many moments are saturated with indica atmospherics thick enough to induce contact highs. Hypnotic plods (“Lyktans Låga”), mid-paced gallops (“Pakten”), and the occasional stirring solo (“Snöblind”) furnish an assortment of backdrops and give individual songs enough character to prevent them from blurring together despite the pervasive gloomy fuzz. Cutting through said fuzz is vocalist Simon Rosengrim, who pierces the dense haze with tempestuous conviction, antithetical to the indolent trappings of stereotypical stoner doom. All told, Skogskult begets a familiar soundscape even casual fans of the genre will at once recognize, molding a unique personality alongside influences and reference points.

    Skogskult’s merger of buzzing heft and raw emotion concocts powerful moments across their debut. Opening duo “Lyktans Låga” and “Turs” conform to genre conventions, grooving with ponderous mass as Samuel Nordström and Albin Kroon lumber along on guitar and bass. In fact, most of Skogskult is blanketed in wool, though “Sol” acts as a crucial change-of-pace, offering reverb-drenched strums and echoey vox that recall Sabbath’s “Planet Caravan.” Central tracks “Jag Ger Mig Av” and “Pakten” embolden Skogskult with lively frills, such as the stark baritone vocals midway through the former and the catchy-as-hell 90s post-grunge lilt of the latter. Pulling away from direct inspirations allows Skogskult to forge an identity all their own. In a genre where bands closely adhere to stoner doom’s core sound, it’s not a coincidence that Skogskult’s best moments occur when the album extends past them. In particular, Rosengrim’s performance electrifies when grit and pathos dial to eleven. His singing forgoes the comparatively mellow rhythms and measured deliveries associated with Sleep, Dopelord, and others, instead penetrating stoner doom’s miasma with immediate and undeniable passion. While this ingredient sets Skogskult apart from other outfits, it’s not quite enough to overcome Skogskult’s deficiencies.

    Though many of Skogskult’s songwriting tendrils take root, some flounder for purchase. The juxtaposition of urgent vocals and hypnotizing grooves spellbind in a broad sense, but focusing just on the instrumentation reveals a lack of consistency over the entire album. Though flush with talent, Skogskult’s penchant for repeating riffs too often over six to seven minutes erodes some of its charm, which is further exacerbated over repeated listens. Bluesy solos and accelerated tempos afford welcome breaks, but more variety through the refrains would invigorate Skogskult’s musical backbone; without more riff diversity, shrinking song lengths could help remedy the repetition. Still, Skogskult boasts plenty of successes, as well. The production is a triumph, with each instrument (and vocals) afforded ample space in the mix. The only understated element is drummer Alexander Söderlund, who supports the band ably within a restrained pocket. Also, Skogskult deftly constructs tension throughout entire songs. Even if each track could lose thirty to sixty seconds, every payoff satisfies through unhurried climaxes and hints at a higher ceiling for the band’s songcraft.

    Skogskult is a young band brimming with potential. They guide listeners through the murky fog of stoner doom that cloaks the forest they inhabit, shining a light on the path while allowing listeners to glimpse the dangers just off of it. Skogskult isn’t perfect, but Skogskult impresses with accessible retrofuzz, standout highlights, and a powerhouse vocalist. If they can refine the songwriting approach for their sophomore album while preserving what makes this one special, our next trip through the cult’s forest might just convert us.

    Rating: Good
    DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
    Label: Bonebag Records
    Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
    Releases Worldwide: December 5th, 2025

    #2025 #30 #AcidKing #BlackSabbath #BonebagRecords #CultOfLuna #Dec25 #DoomMetal #Dopelord #Meshuggah #Monolord #Naglfar #NocturnalRites #Persuader #Refused #Review #Reviews #SelfTitled #Skogskult #Sleep #StonerDoom #StonerDoomMetal #StonerMetal #SwedishMetal

  39. Skogskult – Skogskult Review

    By Grin Reaper

    Known for cultivating legendary acts such as Cult of Luna, Meshuggah, and Refused, Umeå, Sweden, sows fertile ground for seminal rock and metal bands.1 Formed in 2022, Skogskult joins their compatriots with a self-titled debut of grimy stoner doom in hand. From Swedish, Skogskult translates to ‘forest cult,’ and with roots firmly planted in scuzzy soil, this fey foursome drinks deeply from the wells of Acid King, Monolord, and Black Sabbath. Skogskult conjures six tracks that pull from Scandinavian mythology and the arcane to warn of dark days getting darker,2 setting a grim and eldritch tone from the outset. So come, friend, and take my hand. Let us walk into these woods together and uncover what mysteries lurk within.

    Skogskult studied their forebears closely, as anyone who blindly tangles with Skogskult won’t need long to guess its genre. Many moments are saturated with indica atmospherics thick enough to induce contact highs. Hypnotic plods (“Lyktans Låga”), mid-paced gallops (“Pakten”), and the occasional stirring solo (“Snöblind”) furnish an assortment of backdrops and give individual songs enough character to prevent them from blurring together despite the pervasive gloomy fuzz. Cutting through said fuzz is vocalist Simon Rosengrim, who pierces the dense haze with tempestuous conviction, antithetical to the indolent trappings of stereotypical stoner doom. All told, Skogskult begets a familiar soundscape even casual fans of the genre will at once recognize, molding a unique personality alongside influences and reference points.

    Skogskult’s merger of buzzing heft and raw emotion concocts powerful moments across their debut. Opening duo “Lyktans Låga” and “Turs” conform to genre conventions, grooving with ponderous mass as Samuel Nordström and Albin Kroon lumber along on guitar and bass. In fact, most of Skogskult is blanketed in wool, though “Sol” acts as a crucial change-of-pace, offering reverb-drenched strums and echoey vox that recall Sabbath’s “Planet Caravan.” Central tracks “Jag Ger Mig Av” and “Pakten” embolden Skogskult with lively frills, such as the stark baritone vocals midway through the former and the catchy-as-hell 90s post-grunge lilt of the latter. Pulling away from direct inspirations allows Skogskult to forge an identity all their own. In a genre where bands closely adhere to stoner doom’s core sound, it’s not a coincidence that Skogskult’s best moments occur when the album extends past them. In particular, Rosengrim’s performance electrifies when grit and pathos dial to eleven. His singing forgoes the comparatively mellow rhythms and measured deliveries associated with Sleep, Dopelord, and others, instead penetrating stoner doom’s miasma with immediate and undeniable passion. While this ingredient sets Skogskult apart from other outfits, it’s not quite enough to overcome Skogskult’s deficiencies.

    Though many of Skogskult’s songwriting tendrils take root, some flounder for purchase. The juxtaposition of urgent vocals and hypnotizing grooves spellbind in a broad sense, but focusing just on the instrumentation reveals a lack of consistency over the entire album. Though flush with talent, Skogskult’s penchant for repeating riffs too often over six to seven minutes erodes some of its charm, which is further exacerbated over repeated listens. Bluesy solos and accelerated tempos afford welcome breaks, but more variety through the refrains would invigorate Skogskult’s musical backbone; without more riff diversity, shrinking song lengths could help remedy the repetition. Still, Skogskult boasts plenty of successes, as well. The production is a triumph, with each instrument (and vocals) afforded ample space in the mix. The only understated element is drummer Alexander Söderlund, who supports the band ably within a restrained pocket. Also, Skogskult deftly constructs tension throughout entire songs. Even if each track could lose thirty to sixty seconds, every payoff satisfies through unhurried climaxes and hints at a higher ceiling for the band’s songcraft.

    Skogskult is a young band brimming with potential. They guide listeners through the murky fog of stoner doom that cloaks the forest they inhabit, shining a light on the path while allowing listeners to glimpse the dangers just off of it. Skogskult isn’t perfect, but Skogskult impresses with accessible retrofuzz, standout highlights, and a powerhouse vocalist. If they can refine the songwriting approach for their sophomore album while preserving what makes this one special, our next trip through the cult’s forest might just convert us.

    Rating: Good
    DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
    Label: Bonebag Records
    Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
    Releases Worldwide: December 5th, 2025

    #2025 #30 #AcidKing #BlackSabbath #BonebagRecords #CultOfLuna #Dec25 #DoomMetal #Dopelord #Meshuggah #Monolord #Naglfar #NocturnalRites #Persuader #Refused #Review #Reviews #SelfTitled #Skogskult #Sleep #StonerDoom #StonerDoomMetal #StonerMetal #SwedishMetal

  40. Skogskult – Skogskult Review

    By Grin Reaper

    Known for cultivating legendary acts such as Cult of Luna, Meshuggah, and Refused, Umeå, Sweden, sows fertile ground for seminal rock and metal bands.1 Formed in 2022, Skogskult joins their compatriots with a self-titled debut of grimy stoner doom in hand. From Swedish, Skogskult translates to ‘forest cult,’ and with roots firmly planted in scuzzy soil, this fey foursome drinks deeply from the wells of Acid King, Monolord, and Black Sabbath. Skogskult conjures six tracks that pull from Scandinavian mythology and the arcane to warn of dark days getting darker,2 setting a grim and eldritch tone from the outset. So come, friend, and take my hand. Let us walk into these woods together and uncover what mysteries lurk within.

    Skogskult studied their forebears closely, as anyone who blindly tangles with Skogskult won’t need long to guess its genre. Many moments are saturated with indica atmospherics thick enough to induce contact highs. Hypnotic plods (“Lyktans Låga”), mid-paced gallops (“Pakten”), and the occasional stirring solo (“Snöblind”) furnish an assortment of backdrops and give individual songs enough character to prevent them from blurring together despite the pervasive gloomy fuzz. Cutting through said fuzz is vocalist Simon Rosengrim, who pierces the dense haze with tempestuous conviction, antithetical to the indolent trappings of stereotypical stoner doom. All told, Skogskult begets a familiar soundscape even casual fans of the genre will at once recognize, molding a unique personality alongside influences and reference points.

    Skogskult’s merger of buzzing heft and raw emotion concocts powerful moments across their debut. Opening duo “Lyktans Låga” and “Turs” conform to genre conventions, grooving with ponderous mass as Samuel Nordström and Albin Kroon lumber along on guitar and bass. In fact, most of Skogskult is blanketed in wool, though “Sol” acts as a crucial change-of-pace, offering reverb-drenched strums and echoey vox that recall Sabbath’s “Planet Caravan.” Central tracks “Jag Ger Mig Av” and “Pakten” embolden Skogskult with lively frills, such as the stark baritone vocals midway through the former and the catchy-as-hell 90s post-grunge lilt of the latter. Pulling away from direct inspirations allows Skogskult to forge an identity all their own. In a genre where bands closely adhere to stoner doom’s core sound, it’s not a coincidence that Skogskult’s best moments occur when the album extends past them. In particular, Rosengrim’s performance electrifies when grit and pathos dial to eleven. His singing forgoes the comparatively mellow rhythms and measured deliveries associated with Sleep, Dopelord, and others, instead penetrating stoner doom’s miasma with immediate and undeniable passion. While this ingredient sets Skogskult apart from other outfits, it’s not quite enough to overcome Skogskult’s deficiencies.

    Though many of Skogskult’s songwriting tendrils take root, some flounder for purchase. The juxtaposition of urgent vocals and hypnotizing grooves spellbind in a broad sense, but focusing just on the instrumentation reveals a lack of consistency over the entire album. Though flush with talent, Skogskult’s penchant for repeating riffs too often over six to seven minutes erodes some of its charm, which is further exacerbated over repeated listens. Bluesy solos and accelerated tempos afford welcome breaks, but more variety through the refrains would invigorate Skogskult’s musical backbone; without more riff diversity, shrinking song lengths could help remedy the repetition. Still, Skogskult boasts plenty of successes, as well. The production is a triumph, with each instrument (and vocals) afforded ample space in the mix. The only understated element is drummer Alexander Söderlund, who supports the band ably within a restrained pocket. Also, Skogskult deftly constructs tension throughout entire songs. Even if each track could lose thirty to sixty seconds, every payoff satisfies through unhurried climaxes and hints at a higher ceiling for the band’s songcraft.

    Skogskult is a young band brimming with potential. They guide listeners through the murky fog of stoner doom that cloaks the forest they inhabit, shining a light on the path while allowing listeners to glimpse the dangers just off of it. Skogskult isn’t perfect, but Skogskult impresses with accessible retrofuzz, standout highlights, and a powerhouse vocalist. If they can refine the songwriting approach for their sophomore album while preserving what makes this one special, our next trip through the cult’s forest might just convert us.

    Rating: Good
    DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
    Label: Bonebag Records
    Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
    Releases Worldwide: December 5th, 2025

    #2025 #30 #AcidKing #BlackSabbath #BonebagRecords #CultOfLuna #Dec25 #DoomMetal #Dopelord #Meshuggah #Monolord #Naglfar #NocturnalRites #Persuader #Refused #Review #Reviews #SelfTitled #Skogskult #Sleep #StonerDoom #StonerDoomMetal #StonerMetal #SwedishMetal

  41. Skogskult – Skogskult Review

    By Grin Reaper

    Known for cultivating legendary acts such as Cult of Luna, Meshuggah, and Refused, Umeå, Sweden, sows fertile ground for seminal rock and metal bands.1 Formed in 2022, Skogskult joins their compatriots with a self-titled debut of grimy stoner doom in hand. From Swedish, Skogskult translates to ‘forest cult,’ and with roots firmly planted in scuzzy soil, this fey foursome drinks deeply from the wells of Acid King, Monolord, and Black Sabbath. Skogskult conjures six tracks that pull from Scandinavian mythology and the arcane to warn of dark days getting darker,2 setting a grim and eldritch tone from the outset. So come, friend, and take my hand. Let us walk into these woods together and uncover what mysteries lurk within.

    Skogskult studied their forebears closely, as anyone who blindly tangles with Skogskult won’t need long to guess its genre. Many moments are saturated with indica atmospherics thick enough to induce contact highs. Hypnotic plods (“Lyktans Låga”), mid-paced gallops (“Pakten”), and the occasional stirring solo (“Snöblind”) furnish an assortment of backdrops and give individual songs enough character to prevent them from blurring together despite the pervasive gloomy fuzz. Cutting through said fuzz is vocalist Simon Rosengrim, who pierces the dense haze with tempestuous conviction, antithetical to the indolent trappings of stereotypical stoner doom. All told, Skogskult begets a familiar soundscape even casual fans of the genre will at once recognize, molding a unique personality alongside influences and reference points.

    Skogskult’s merger of buzzing heft and raw emotion concocts powerful moments across their debut. Opening duo “Lyktans Låga” and “Turs” conform to genre conventions, grooving with ponderous mass as Samuel Nordström and Albin Kroon lumber along on guitar and bass. In fact, most of Skogskult is blanketed in wool, though “Sol” acts as a crucial change-of-pace, offering reverb-drenched strums and echoey vox that recall Sabbath’s “Planet Caravan.” Central tracks “Jag Ger Mig Av” and “Pakten” embolden Skogskult with lively frills, such as the stark baritone vocals midway through the former and the catchy-as-hell 90s post-grunge lilt of the latter. Pulling away from direct inspirations allows Skogskult to forge an identity all their own. In a genre where bands closely adhere to stoner doom’s core sound, it’s not a coincidence that Skogskult’s best moments occur when the album extends past them. In particular, Rosengrim’s performance electrifies when grit and pathos dial to eleven. His singing forgoes the comparatively mellow rhythms and measured deliveries associated with Sleep, Dopelord, and others, instead penetrating stoner doom’s miasma with immediate and undeniable passion. While this ingredient sets Skogskult apart from other outfits, it’s not quite enough to overcome Skogskult’s deficiencies.

    Though many of Skogskult’s songwriting tendrils take root, some flounder for purchase. The juxtaposition of urgent vocals and hypnotizing grooves spellbind in a broad sense, but focusing just on the instrumentation reveals a lack of consistency over the entire album. Though flush with talent, Skogskult’s penchant for repeating riffs too often over six to seven minutes erodes some of its charm, which is further exacerbated over repeated listens. Bluesy solos and accelerated tempos afford welcome breaks, but more variety through the refrains would invigorate Skogskult’s musical backbone; without more riff diversity, shrinking song lengths could help remedy the repetition. Still, Skogskult boasts plenty of successes, as well. The production is a triumph, with each instrument (and vocals) afforded ample space in the mix. The only understated element is drummer Alexander Söderlund, who supports the band ably within a restrained pocket. Also, Skogskult deftly constructs tension throughout entire songs. Even if each track could lose thirty to sixty seconds, every payoff satisfies through unhurried climaxes and hints at a higher ceiling for the band’s songcraft.

    Skogskult is a young band brimming with potential. They guide listeners through the murky fog of stoner doom that cloaks the forest they inhabit, shining a light on the path while allowing listeners to glimpse the dangers just off of it. Skogskult isn’t perfect, but Skogskult impresses with accessible retrofuzz, standout highlights, and a powerhouse vocalist. If they can refine the songwriting approach for their sophomore album while preserving what makes this one special, our next trip through the cult’s forest might just convert us.

    Rating: Good
    DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
    Label: Bonebag Records
    Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
    Releases Worldwide: December 5th, 2025

    #2025 #30 #AcidKing #BlackSabbath #BonebagRecords #CultOfLuna #Dec25 #DoomMetal #Dopelord #Meshuggah #Monolord #Naglfar #NocturnalRites #Persuader #Refused #Review #Reviews #SelfTitled #Skogskult #Sleep #StonerDoom #StonerDoomMetal #StonerMetal #SwedishMetal

  42. Skogskult – Skogskult Review

    By Grin Reaper

    Known for cultivating legendary acts such as Cult of Luna, Meshuggah, and Refused, Umeå, Sweden, sows fertile ground for seminal rock and metal bands.1 Formed in 2022, Skogskult joins their compatriots with a self-titled debut of grimy stoner doom in hand. From Swedish, Skogskult translates to ‘forest cult,’ and with roots firmly planted in scuzzy soil, this fey foursome drinks deeply from the wells of Acid King, Monolord, and Black Sabbath. Skogskult conjures six tracks that pull from Scandinavian mythology and the arcane to warn of dark days getting darker,2 setting a grim and eldritch tone from the outset. So come, friend, and take my hand. Let us walk into these woods together and uncover what mysteries lurk within.

    Skogskult studied their forebears closely, as anyone who blindly tangles with Skogskult won’t need long to guess its genre. Many moments are saturated with indica atmospherics thick enough to induce contact highs. Hypnotic plods (“Lyktans Låga”), mid-paced gallops (“Pakten”), and the occasional stirring solo (“Snöblind”) furnish an assortment of backdrops and give individual songs enough character to prevent them from blurring together despite the pervasive gloomy fuzz. Cutting through said fuzz is vocalist Simon Rosengrim, who pierces the dense haze with tempestuous conviction, antithetical to the indolent trappings of stereotypical stoner doom. All told, Skogskult begets a familiar soundscape even casual fans of the genre will at once recognize, molding a unique personality alongside influences and reference points.

    Skogskult’s merger of buzzing heft and raw emotion concocts powerful moments across their debut. Opening duo “Lyktans Låga” and “Turs” conform to genre conventions, grooving with ponderous mass as Samuel Nordström and Albin Kroon lumber along on guitar and bass. In fact, most of Skogskult is blanketed in wool, though “Sol” acts as a crucial change-of-pace, offering reverb-drenched strums and echoey vox that recall Sabbath’s “Planet Caravan.” Central tracks “Jag Ger Mig Av” and “Pakten” embolden Skogskult with lively frills, such as the stark baritone vocals midway through the former and the catchy-as-hell 90s post-grunge lilt of the latter. Pulling away from direct inspirations allows Skogskult to forge an identity all their own. In a genre where bands closely adhere to stoner doom’s core sound, it’s not a coincidence that Skogskult’s best moments occur when the album extends past them. In particular, Rosengrim’s performance electrifies when grit and pathos dial to eleven. His singing forgoes the comparatively mellow rhythms and measured deliveries associated with Sleep, Dopelord, and others, instead penetrating stoner doom’s miasma with immediate and undeniable passion. While this ingredient sets Skogskult apart from other outfits, it’s not quite enough to overcome Skogskult’s deficiencies.

    Though many of Skogskult’s songwriting tendrils take root, some flounder for purchase. The juxtaposition of urgent vocals and hypnotizing grooves spellbind in a broad sense, but focusing just on the instrumentation reveals a lack of consistency over the entire album. Though flush with talent, Skogskult’s penchant for repeating riffs too often over six to seven minutes erodes some of its charm, which is further exacerbated over repeated listens. Bluesy solos and accelerated tempos afford welcome breaks, but more variety through the refrains would invigorate Skogskult’s musical backbone; without more riff diversity, shrinking song lengths could help remedy the repetition. Still, Skogskult boasts plenty of successes, as well. The production is a triumph, with each instrument (and vocals) afforded ample space in the mix. The only understated element is drummer Alexander Söderlund, who supports the band ably within a restrained pocket. Also, Skogskult deftly constructs tension throughout entire songs. Even if each track could lose thirty to sixty seconds, every payoff satisfies through unhurried climaxes and hints at a higher ceiling for the band’s songcraft.

    Skogskult is a young band brimming with potential. They guide listeners through the murky fog of stoner doom that cloaks the forest they inhabit, shining a light on the path while allowing listeners to glimpse the dangers just off of it. Skogskult isn’t perfect, but Skogskult impresses with accessible retrofuzz, standout highlights, and a powerhouse vocalist. If they can refine the songwriting approach for their sophomore album while preserving what makes this one special, our next trip through the cult’s forest might just convert us.

    Rating: Good
    DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
    Label: Bonebag Records
    Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
    Releases Worldwide: December 5th, 2025

    #2025 #30 #AcidKing #BlackSabbath #BonebagRecords #CultOfLuna #Dec25 #DoomMetal #Dopelord #Meshuggah #Monolord #Naglfar #NocturnalRites #Persuader #Refused #Review #Reviews #SelfTitled #Skogskult #Sleep #StonerDoom #StonerDoomMetal #StonerMetal #SwedishMetal