#meusemusicrecords — Public Fediverse posts

Since the last Filter dropped, it still hasn’t stopped raining and storming in my neck of the woods. Consequently, my minions trudge evermore through the thin sheet metal of our ducts as the thunder rattles everything like so many dice in a tabletop nerd’s clutches.1 Yet I must press them and push them, for we have quotas to meet and ravenous appetites to sate.

So it is with shaky hands and discombobulated craniums that my grunts hand over the goods. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Thrashed Thrall

Ascended Master // Crepuscular Gloom [May 8th, 2026 – Self Released]

Death thrash is best thrash, if you ask this sponge. Something about this unholy combo really rustles my jimmies, especially when its executed with great speed and riff-centered fervor. Cincinnati’s Ascended Master nail that combination right into the grave, boasting a sound that’s three parts Death, one part Atheist, and a pinch of Blood Red Throne. With a sense of groove that gives barnburners “Blood Spilled Upon the Stars,” “Crepuscular Gloom,” and rabid closer “Xenopaleontology” a deadly swagger liable to cause fierce whiplash in all who would headbang to it, debut LP Crepuscular Gloom” is a record pumped full of testosterone and adrenaline. Speedy rippers like “Midnight Mother” and “Ghoul Queen” put the pedal to the metal with a ferocity more commonly associated with Kvaen or Hellripper in the modern pantheon, but the record’s natural engineering and coherent screams hark to earlier times where Death reigned supreme in the scene. However, it would be inaccurate to call it pure worship. Ascended Master have an intense personality and a particular ferocity that allows Crepuscular Gloom to integrate smoothly into their respective category without blending into the crowd. As their career develops from this point, I expect we’ll see their identity bloom and rise with greater distinction, further setting them apart and threatening year-end lists all around. Just wait, you’ll see!

ClarkKent’s Prehistoric Pulls

Ilienses Tree // Toward the Storm [May 1st, 2026 – Meuse Music Records]

Ilienses Tree sow their roots deep into the island the band originates from—Sardinia, just off the coast of Italy. Their name, Ilienses, refers to an ancient Nuragic civilization that, during the Bronze Age, built impressive stone tower structures that still stand today. While the band isn’t nearly so old, their second album, Toward the Storm, dabbles in the sort of slow, deliberate doom that speaks of the patience of those ancient ruins. They lean towards a style of funeral doom that has the brutal power of My Dying Bride, but their record also contains the unpredictable dynamic drumming of Oromet and sneaks into speedier death/doom territory akin to Paradise Lost and Novembers Doom. Ilienses Tree have a mastery over melancholic lead riffs, such as the one that opens “To Not Be Forgotten.” “Sudden Rain” flexes the band’s creative muscle most impressively. Beginning in a slow burn and anchored by a poignant guitar lead, the song has a sudden burst of energy, turns in a lovely duet between arpeggiated riffs and bass, and features several more memorable and distinct guitar leads. Though the songs average nine minutes, they fit neatly into a 38-minute record, and thanks to progressive structures, they never feel overlong. If you’d like some music that simultaneously hits you in the feels and provides a shot of adrenaline, then go towards, not away from, this storm.

Anna Fiori // Metztli [May 21st, 2026 – Self Released]

Sometimes symphonic metal bands grow a touch stale from a failure to innovate, relying too heavily on the gimmick of symphonic instruments. Anna Fiori, however, has created something pretty special, with a Mexican/Aztec twist on the genre. Her band mixes “pre-Hispanic instrumentation” with cinematic symphonics and heavy guitars to create thrilling high-energy music. While some songs hit a more poppy Beyond the Black mold (“En El Vacio”), others take a longer-form route. The nine-minute “Luna Llena (Xiki Noeso)” blends indigenous chants and flutes with orchestral elements that sometimes sound like an exciting score to a whimsical adventure film. The highlight, “Luna Menguante (Nimotemak),” contains a mix of cool riffs, flutes, and blast beats before taking us on a bonkers ride involving operatic singing, off-kilter pianos, a few solos, and perhaps the summoning of a demon or two. While the song compositions are tons of fun, Fiori’s performance ties it all together. She sings in the sweet poppy manner of Epica’s Simone Simons, the operatic style of many a Therion singer, and even some growls in the spirit of Seven Spires’s Adrienne Cowen, if not quite her power. Fiori even briefly raps on a couple of tracks, with a pretty impressive section on the outro track, “Tetzahuitl, Pt. 2: El Origen,” and goes off-script with an infectious laugh on “Entre Mil Voces.” Clearly she’s having a lot of fun. Metztli hits some of the familiar symphonic notes while injecting enough personality of its own to make for an entertaining, and sometimes wild, ride.

Grin Reaper’s Spring Fling

Beyond the Veil // Oblivion [May 1st, 2026 – Wormholedeath Records]

There’s little online information about Tokyo prog metallers Beyond the Veil,2 and while I don’t recall how I stumbled across debut Oblivion, I’m glad I did. Upon listening, I was immediately enamored by their familiar yet enchanting blend of drama and technicality. Fans of Opeth and Dream Theater will uncover a trove of unapologetic prog where Beyond the Veil weaves gorgeously conceived instrumentation into intricate compositions. Oblivion also embraces long-form arrangements, sporting six tracks ranging between seven-and-a-half and sixteen minutes each. Credit to Beyond the Veil, though, because even with such robust runtimes totaling over an hour, Oblivion never feels repetitive or bankrupt of ideas. Quite the opposite, in fact, as each listen reveals new knots to untangle and coils to unwind. Perhaps the facet I’ve come to appreciate the most as I revisit Oblivion is Beyond the Veil’s merger of piano, mellotron, and orchestrations with guitar, bass, and drums. They’re hardly the first band to do this, but each song sounds well-attuned to incorporating the right instrument for the right part rather than spotlighting heavy-handed wankery, allowing Oblivion to soar. While Beyond the Veil doesn’t break the mold with this one, getting lost in Oblivion never sounded so sweet.

Lago // Vigil [May 8th, 2026 – Everlasting Spew Records]

Vigil introduced me to Lago and their infectiously abrasive death metal, and this album is forty-two minutes of unhinged brutality flecked with melody. The blood of Immolation, Morbid Angel, and Incantation pumps through Lago’s veins, delivering unapologetic tangles of dissonant, jangling guitars, fuming blast beats, and murky bass runs beneath Cole Jacobsen’s devilishly demented gutturals. Lago’s brew is potent stuff, swirling and churning with caustic acid that will leave your eardrums scarred and cowed with nary a moment wasted. Complimenting the devastating filth Lago dredges is Gus Barr’s warbling lead guitar, which cuts through the grime with off-kilter shredding. “Behold, Ruin” and “Initiation Rite” hit with the immediacy and aplomb of Immolation, lurching onwards with Brian Miller’s timekeeping straight out of Close to a World Below’s playbook. Meanwhile, “Procession into Slaughter” and “The Land Was a Desert” launch into Azagthoth-tinged, otherworldly riffs. Everything about Lago screams danger, yet once the blood starts flowing it’s impossible to turn away from their murderously addictive violence. Once Vigil has its hooks in you, you won’t want them to Lago.

Redshift // Down the Wire [May 29th, 2026 – Pale Wizard Records]

As a massive Rush fan, Redshift’s Down the Wire immediately caught my attention with ample parallels. A power trio wielding buttery smooth bass lines, Lifeson-leaning chords, and Tiago Martins’ tender tenor call to mind Canada’s greatest export for all the right reasons. Yet Bath, England’s Redshift is more than a Rush clone, and on Down the Wire they bounce and whip in syncopated flurries and chromatic runs while dabbling with vocoded vocals and deathly roars. As the best prog does, Redshift explores vast territory in a commensurately brief runtime. Opener “The Routine” hits the Rush influence hard and early, but “The Clown” draws upon Synchestra-era Devin Townsend kookiness while “The Rogue” dabbles in Yesified eclecticism and even features guest keys from Derek Sherinian (ex-Dream Theater, ex-Yngwie Malmsteen). One thing Redshift steers away from is the self-seriousness associated with a lot of prog, and Down the Wire radiates a pervasive sense of fun. Trumpets and samba-coded melodies enliven “The Rogue” while “The Singer” assaults with fierce growls, wicked solos, and perfectly balanced instrumental interplay. Down the Wire fires on all cylinders, scorching with progressive songwriting and so much replayability that I regret not getting the chance to write a review in full. If you’re Down to the Wire and need a prog fix quickly, Redshift is a clever choice that won’t disappoint.

Spicie Forrest’s Nostalgic Nugget

Haste the Day // Dissenter [May 1st, 2026 – Solid State Records]

I haven’t heard the name Haste the Day since 2008. At the time, I was on the tail end of my metalcore phase and pushing into heavier styles, so while I recognized their quality, I didn’t latch on to them as I did other acts of their ilk. It’s a shame, because Dissenter is the sound of my adolescence. Slinging the same emo-flavored metalcore as early As I Lay Dying and August Burns Red, the Indianapolis-based six-piece offers 39 minutes of beautifully aching nostalgia. Stephen Keech’s lead vocals sound pushed and strained (complimentary), evoking the emotion of early Linkin Park (“Shallows,” “Grave”). Guitarists Scott Whelan, Brennan Chaulk, and Dave Krysl are so in sync, delivering stellar layered riffs and leads felt in the soul (“Burn”). When Michael Murphy’s bass comes to the fore, as on “Liminal,” he brings a heaviness and intensity that hurtles me back to middle school like it was just yesterday. Dissenter is a bit heavier and faster on the front end, but even the not-quite-overwrought power ballads of the back half maintain their drive and pacing thanks to Giuseppe Capolupo’s kit work (“Adrift,” “Escape”). For those of us who cut our teeth on acts like Haste the Day, late-career and comeback albums can be an anxious affair, but I’m happy to report that Dissenter is a worthy walk down memory lane.

Rigor Sardonicous – Diatriba Deorum Review

Rigor Sardonicous is a two-man funeral doom project from my neck of the woods of Long Island, New…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.0 #2026 #DeathMetal #DiatribaDeorum #DoomMetal #Entertainment #FuneralDoom #Jul26 #MeuseMusicRecords #PraeparetBellum #review #Reviews #RigorSardonicous #UK #UnitedKingdom #warning
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/720362/

Rigor Sardonicous is a two-man funeral doom project from my neck of the woods of Long Island, New York, featuring members of Teloch Vovin and Abhorrence. Despite their lurking in the scene since 1999, I didn’t hear of them until Thus Spoke reviewed their seventh album, 2023s Praeparet Bellum. How could a band like this exist right under my nose for so long without me catching a whiff? Well, as Thus summed up in her review, they aren’t exactly tearing a hole in the metalverse with their lo-fi, quasi-industrial style of funerary music. The material on Praeparet Bellum was one-dimensional, plodding, and devoid of the necessary tricks and treats to keep such slogging doom interesting and, well, listenable. I hoped Diatriba Deorum would see the duo elevate their game, and in some ways, I suppose they have. But will it be enough to take them from deep, dark obscurity into the sunlight?

In a word, no. While Diatriba Deorum is a step up from last time and shows some improvement in pacing, atmosphere, and overall execution, this is still an inky grey slab of slow-motion doom without much in the way of engagement. Things do open quite strongly on “With God’s Love,” which is a slightly more aggressive creature for Rigor, rocking a pseudo-industrial, lo-fi hum that feels ominous and eerie. Subteranean vocals belch and burp over simple, plodding riffs and a programmed drum clicks and thumps in the background (I’ll refer to the drummer as “Clanger” henceforth). What helps is that the song is only 2 minutes, and if it was pushed much past that, things would go off the rails. “Death Cult” is a classic funeral-death-doom track with an unmistakably Sabbathian lead riff winding endlessly through a colorless glade of dead spruce as Clanger thrums along lifelessly and Joseph J. Fogarazzo roars quietly down somewhere in the mulch of the lo-fi mix. It’s got a certain dark, hypnotic mood that works well enough to let the 6-plus minutes slip by without testing your resolve too aggressively.

There are more tracks here, however, that are all too happy to test your resolve and attention. “I Am” is 8-plus minutes of ugly plodery with very little in the way of change-ups or tempo shifts. It’s an aural experience akin to being slowly chased down a long yellow corridor by Pirate Clark from Backrooms. It starts to feel overlong before the halfway point, and that’s a problem. By the end, even Clanger sounds tired and uninterested. “Commandment” is the album’s bright spot, with riffs evoking a strong Warning flavor as things stagger and shamble around the corpse yard unhurried. Closer “Actus Tragicus” also manages to rise slightly above the standard drudgery heard across Diatriba Deorum, offering enough melody to keep things mildly interesting over 9-plus minutes. The weird thing with Rigor’s music is that any song taken in isolation works as a standard funeral doom piece. It’s when the whole album bum-rushes you that you realize how one-note and monotonous their style and approach can be. At 44:36, Diatriba Deorum feels about a week longer, and it’s nearly impossible to focus intently throughout. That said, I’ve had it on in the background as I worked, and it was almost meditative and somewhat soothing. Go figure. The production is super raw, unprofessional, and soupy, but it does help convey a cold, soullessly industrialized aura. The guitars lack enough raw force to deliver meaningful impact, and the vocals feel like they were recorded under several layers of wet concrete. Other than that, good job!

Joseph J. Fogarazzo handles vocals and guitar. His death groans and grunts are appropriately wet, sticky, and hideous, booming away in the hidden caverns below like some eldritch abomination. His guitar work can best be described as minimalist and simplistic. He’s definitely an adherent to the less is MOAR school, offering rudimentary leads that barely change or morph over long run times. If he offered more (or some) decorative, forlorn harmonies over the leads, we would be getting somewhere, but he’s largely content to slowly riff away as time crawls and fingernails grow. Glenn Hampton’s bass work is there but does nothing to stand out. It’s like he doesn’t want to draw attention away from the threadbare riffs or inelegant drumbeats. Basically, there’s not a lot going on here, even for just two people and a machine.

Though better than Praeparet Bellum, Diatriba Deorum plays out like one long repetitive death march into nothingness. Aside from a few vague bright spots, this is a never-ending morass of bargain-basement funeral doom. I want to love it, but it refused to let me. Instead, I’ll use it as a relaxation tool when the need arises. Rigor Sardonicous are obscure as fook even in their own neighborhood, and now I know why.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: rigorsardonicous1.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/rigorsardonicous.official
Releases Worldwide: July 31st, 2026

Little Dutch doom-death band Doomcult have been lurking around for 10 years, releasing three albums that haven’t earned them a large slice of mainstream notoriety. Starting life as the solo project of one J.G. Arts, Doomcult has been a vehicle for expressing J.G.’s adoration for the classic Peaceville-era sound made famous by My Dying Bride, Anathema, and Paradise Lost. Early albums played out like a love letter to the 90s Gothic-doom sound, with long, meandering compositions wallowing in chronic sadboi dysfunction. Fourth release, Sacrifice All Life, finds J.G. still running the show, but this time he brought in a vocalist to help round out the sound. The overall sonic blueprint has also been tweaked to incorporate more aggressive tempos and a greater death metal element to anger up the doomy musings. This makes for an interesting collection of tunes with a surprising amount of in-your-face heaviness and extremity.

Opener “Necromancer” wastes no time waking the dead with big, burly riffs. It feels more like High on Fire or Orange Goblin in spirit than classic doom-death, and the Peaceville-loving days seem a million miles away at first. Soon, roof-rattling leads that cleave closer to death metal ride roughshod as new vocalist Rens van Herp (or possibly J.G.) delivers booming death gurgles while someone (J.G., I assume) offers clean, thrash-like shouts. It’s quite effective, and those mid-tempo dino-riffs are impossible to resist or ignore. This is some satisfyingly heavy, forceful noise. I especially like how similar the clean vocals are to Bob Mayo of Wargasm. “Consciousness” cleaves closer to the early Peaceville days with mournful, depressive harmonies laying Gothic flowers on the gravesite as large, ugly death roars dominate the field. The aggressive elements soon resurface, and the dual-vocal attack pays dividends once again. The spikes in tempo keep the nearly 7 minutes moving and grooving, and there are interesting ideas sprinkled throughout the corpse broth.

The real acid test comes with the 15-minute album centerpiece “Sacrifice.” At times, the music reminds of classic Candlemass, and at others it invokes the raw, early days of Paradise Lost and Cathedral. It’s a study in how to hold a listener’s attention over a long period via slick songcraft. Tempos shift at key moments to break things up and keep you on your toes, and time becomes meaningless. Some segments are scuzzy death-doom, others read classic epic doom, and a few isolated bits stink of funeral doom and even stoner booty-shaking. All this is accomplished with very simplistic riff patterns and very little in the way of decorative harmonies. You reach the halfway point before you know it, and the ebb and flow carry you along effortlessly. I’ve seen far better-known and respected bands tank on songs this long, so it’s a wonder how well Doomcult pull it off. They even uncork blastbeats toward the finale, finally unchaining the guitar to noodle and spew. It’s a aural geyser of cathartic release. The goods keep flowing with the caveman-simplistic, but hooky riff-rolling of “Barbed Wire,” and “All Shall Fall,” which nods to Novembers Doom and Cemetery as well as olde Paradise Lost while delivering a massive truckload of prime riff beef to your doorstep. Could I do without the album closing with a re-recording of a song off their debut? Sure, but it provides a nice comparison point for where the band started and where they are now. Does the album feel long at 57 minutes? Not really. I assumed it was a 45-minute platter and was quite surprised when I saw the actual length. That’s a feather in their cap to be sure.

With J.G. handling almost all the guitar work, all other instruments, as well as the songwriting, lyrics, and backing vocals, this is his baby, and he deserves the lion’s share of credit for how effective and listenable Sacrifice All Life ends up. Sure, the shouted cleans are one-dimensional and don’t always work as well as they could, but that’s a minor niggle in the wake of the things that do work. The riffs make this album seethe and bubble with energy, and there’s way more fire and fury here than any doom-death platter should be allotted. If it’s Rens van Herp doing the death roars, kudos to him, as they’re massive, raw, and primal, giving the material all the heaviness it needs. The real star of the show is the songwriting, which manages to use fairly simple, stripped-down music to make long-form compositions pop and sizzle. Not an easy task, but Doomcult do it well.

Sacrifice All Life is another easy-to-miss release you likely won’t hear much about, but it definitely deserves attention. It isn’t doom-death, and it isn’t death-doom, but it sits somewhere in that inky blackness between the genres, and it packs a big wallop. I’ve been spinning it over and over and keep finding new things to appreciate. I’m now investigating their back catalog and studying up on this little Cult that could. You should too. Be a joiner!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: doomcult1.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/doomcultmetal | instagram.com/doomcultband
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

In Vespro – Where Silence Used to Sleep Review

In a week where I was forced to bail on my half of a double review of Warning’s…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #CA #Canada #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #Entertainment #InVespro #ItalianMetal #Katatonia #MeuseMusicRecords #ParadiseLost #Rapture #review #reviews #WhereSilenceUsedtoSleep
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/746930/

In Vespro – Where Silence Used to Sleep Review

In a week where I was forced to bail on my half of a double review of Warning’s…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #Entertainment #InVespro #ItalianMetal #Katatonia #MeuseMusicRecords #ParadiseLost #Rapture #review #Reviews #UK #UnitedKingdom #WhereSilenceUsedtoSleep
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/646816/

In Vespro – Where Silence Used to Sleep Review

In a week where I was forced to bail on my half of a double review of Warning’s…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #AU #Australia #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #Entertainment #InVespro #ItalianMetal #Katatonia #MeuseMusicRecords #ParadiseLost #Rapture #review #reviews #WhereSilenceUsedtoSleep
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/745326/

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

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

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

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

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

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

https://www.europesays.com/be-nl/27757/ Ennui – Qroba | Zware Metalen #albumrecensie #BE #België #Belgium #DeathDoom #doom #DoomMetal #ennui #FuneralDoom #georgië #MeuseMusicRecords #qroba #recensie #review #Science #ScienceAndTechnology #ScienceAndTechnology #Technologie #Technology #Wetenschap #WetenschapEnTechnologie #WetenschapTechnologie #ZwareMetalen

https://www.europesays.com/uk/824268/ In Ruins – We Are All to Perish Review #2026 #30 #Ahab #convocation #DeathDoom #DoomMetal #Entertainment #EyeOfSolitude #Frayle #FuneralDoom #InRuins #Mar26 #MeuseMusicRecords #music #Review #Reviews #RomanianMetal #slow #UK #UN #UnitedKingdom #WeAreAllToPerish #WoebegoneObscured

I think most people who meet me, either online or in meatspace, would not imagine I enjoy a genre like funeral doom. Yet, it is one of my favorites. Acts like Eye of Solitude, Convocation, Slow, Un, and Ahab rank among my top choices for the space, and Romania’s In Ruins caught my ear by treading a similar path. A duo established in 2021, with mastermind Urmuz previously engaged with a spectrum of black metal, grindcore, and death/doom acts, In Ruins prepared a tight 42-minute opus as their opening salvo into fundoom territory. We Are All to Perish, but will we remember the journey that In Ruins led to that final destination?

With some funeral doom records, you get catharsis in the form of a few well-placed outbursts of violence interspersed between large swaths of misery. This is the philosophy Eye of Solitude and Convocation often adopt. Other applications of the style prioritize moods and crushing sorrow delivered at a dirge, a uniformly funereal pace that hypnotizes as much as it depresses. Enter the eulogies of Slow and Un. In Ruins embraces the latter methodology, lumbering as a husk emptied of light and of will. It is a deeply affecting emotional foundation upon which to build, and In Ruins build upon it well. Riffs crush and linger, simple and thunderous, but here they are not the hero element. Melody and atmosphere take a higher rank, though they too dilute into a more simplified, pure state that maximizes potency while stripping away musical complexity. It is entrancing as only funeral doom records can be, and its smart writing boasts all of the natural components for a successful procession.

In Ruins – We Are All to Perish | MMR069 by In Ruins

A common element that distinguishes good and great funeral doom records from inferior specimens is a showstopper track. Slow famously invites comparison here with their incredible “Incendiare,” Eye of Solitude with “Act II: Where the Descent Began,” Convocation with “Atychiphobia,” Woebegone Obscured with “Drømmefald.” In Ruins achieves it with closer “Farewell,” and does so in the most deceptively simple way. By launching the track with excellent SWANA1-inspired melisma, and reinforcing those deep vocalizations later against mournful bells, In Ruins makes an indelible mark on my fundoom rotation. It’s slow and plodding through its first act, enacting yet another favorite motif: the two-chord riff (see Slow’s “Lueur” for a stellar example of this tactic). In its second, a weeping melody, isolated against droning choral synths and Frayle-esque backing siren song until the album’s dying rattle. It is breathtaking and morose in equal measure, but more than that, it inspires repeat spins for the express purpose of experiencing the excursion that led to this climax with greater anticipation and attention.

This, in turn, invigorates and contextualizes the songwriting of the preceding three tracks. At first, they go through all the right motions of a proper funeral doom experience, but without a strong sense of memorability to leave a lasting impression. But after the first spin, I noticed the clarity of “I’m Tired of Living in My Land” offered by its candid, unpretentious lyrics. I understood the emptiness and the apathy that colors “I Do Not Regret and I Do Not Shed Tears” in a monochrome, dull gray. Compositional foreshadowing felt more meaningful when “We’ll Depart This World for Ever, Surely” sets me up for “Farewell” once more. In this way, In Ruins crafted a record that requires repeat spins to fully appreciate, forging a double edged sword. On one side, each of the first three songs on their own still lacks the same power of the closer despite gaining substance with time. On the other hand, treated as a single unit, We Are All to Perish is a wholly successful and worthy entry into the pantheon of funeral doom.

As a competitor to the standout entities of the funeral field, In Ruins stake a viable claim with We Are All to Perish. To push further into that space and stand out, they’ll need to make each and every track—especially if there are as few as four, like so here—unforgettable in some meaningful way. “Farewell” is a great song, and features elements and ideas that, if capitalized on in future records, might guarantee In Ruins a wider audience and greater acclaim. Until then, rest easy knowing that while We Are All to Perish, we can at least enjoy the path that leads to the end.

Rating: Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Meuse Music Records
Websites: inruins13.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/InRuins.ro
Releases Worldwide: March 13th, 2026

Show 1 footnote

1. Southwest Asian and North African. ↩

https://www.europesays.com/uk/793553/ Post Luctum – Timor Lucis Review #2026 #30 #AltarsOfGrief #AmericanMetal #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #Entertainment #Feb26 #FuneralDoom #InMourning #Latitudes #MeuseMusicRecords #music #PostLuctum #Review #Reviews #slow #TimorLucis #UK #UN #UnitedKingdom #WoebegoneObscured

Even with someone as infinitely absorbent as this sponge, things slip through the cracks sometimes. In 2019, I gave a shout to Post Luctum’s debut EP After Mourning, citing its very promising funereal pall as a welcome comrade to contemporary heavy hitters like Altars of Grief and Slow. Somehow, some way, I completely missed not one, not two, but three full-lengths from the Maryland-based solo artist in the span between then and 2026’s Timor Lucis. But it couldn’t have come at a better time, with the inclement weather demanding tunes of a dour, reposed, overcast character. The only variable left is how much Post Luctum changed in the years since my last visit.

Aside from overall recording quality and songwriting polish—both of which have improved significantly over the course of seven years—Post Luctum are exactly as I remember, just more refined. Like a friend for whom time apart never creates a mire of awkwardness at the point of reunion, mastermind Ian Goetchius’ slow and steady despair rings with the same earnestness that made After Mourning such a striking proof of concept. At once, I feel comforted and warmed by Timor Lucis’ Slowed melodies, chilled by its Altars of Grief-like eulogy, and heartened by post-metallic touches that evoke hints of In Mourning or Latitudes. It’s a reliable sound that should be familiar to anyone who partakes of the funeral side of the doom spectrum, and Post Luctum applies it with poise and passion.

Timor Lucis by Post Luctum

As the crooning cleans of “Approaching Light” give way to the lumbering march of the deadly “Shrouded by the Sea,” Timor Lucis envelops me in a kind of sorrow that pulls me into full immersion with an uncanny ease. Almost an autonomic response beyond my control, this immersion feels akin to immediacy in the context of this music, where memorability is found not so much in individual notes and compartmentalized verses, but rather in moods and moments of emotional significance. Even as songs gently coast from a desperate roar to a delicate breeze (“Sunken Fate” into “In Water”) to form notable highlights, I always recall the moment I heard it—where I was, what I felt, what visions these sonic waves summoned from my thoughts—more vividly than the music’s corporeal form. A different impression than what many artists design for their audience, this experience is its own kind of magic. Difficult to conjure and even trickier to master, Post Luctum struck the right balance of texture, timing, and feeling to invoke such magic and impose its power on my mind, revealing Timor Lucis’ greatest strength.

Curious, then, that once the final note fades into the ether, I struggle to find that pull which brings me back into Timor Lucis’ loving, tear-soaked embrace. As I continued my tenure with this record, I wondered if the root of that struggle was familiarity. Songs like “Disavowed,” “A Curse Now A Plague,” and “I Welcome In the Cold” reminded so strongly of the core of my funeral doom rotation (Slow, Un, Woebegone Obscured) that Post Luctum inadvertently guided me directly into their clutches, and I found myself forgetting about Timor Lucis. I realize now that this is the double-edged sword of the aforementioned strength this record holds. Immersive as it undoubtedly is, and as reliable as its writing is in achieving that immersion minute-to-minute, Timor Lucis simply isn’t bold enough as a distinct entity to draw me away from those acts it resembles with which I enjoy a deeper, more established relationship.

This dichotomy exposes one of the greatest challenges not just in reviewership, but also in songwriting from the perspective of the listener. A record is not made unworthy strictly because it is familiar, nor is my enjoyment of this material lessened by my personal history with the genre. Chances are good that I will return to Timor Lucis with a willing and eager heart over the course of the year. Equally, I acknowledge that it will never meaningfully challenge those records I deem the highest order in the style. On the other hand, you, the reader, might find this is your highest order. Regardless, Post Luctum deserves a chance to take you into its heart, and in the spirit of that truth, I offer my warm, albeit moderated, recommendation.

Rating: Good!
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Meuse Music Records
Websites: postluctum.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/postluctum
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

Got a question for you all: when’s the last time an album just absolutely, from out of nowhere, blindsided you and kept you enthralled for the entirety of its length on the first play? I don’t mean from your favorite bands (though that’s pretty damn cool, too), but from a completely out-of-left-field pick in the promo sump?1 Georgian funeral directors Ennui have been toughing it out with their craft since 2012’s Mze Ukunisa, with the then-duo working with what they had available. Now, the duo is a full-fledged band, and on their fifth album, Qroba, they hit graveyard paydirt.

From the very first moment the keyboards swell in opener “Antinatalism,” you know you’re in for some fun(erally dismal) times. Creeping at the pace of a drugged-out snail in the Antarctic region, “Antinatalism” brilliantly glistens while also dragging you through the icy snow with its crashing (and crushing) riffs and methodical drumming. When founder David Unsaved growls, it’s with the force of the bear from Annihilation after freshly devouring Daniel Neagoe (Eye of Solitude and a fuckton of other bands), further throwing the listener into a pit of existential despair and woe. Most impressively, at over 10 minutes, the time flies by effortlessly, due to its ability to draw you in and keep you enthralled for the entire length.

The other four songs on this 62-minute behemoth hold up pretty damn well themselves. The album centerpiece “Decima,” which features mournful melodies from a panduri (three-stringed lute) that accentuate the sorrow midway into the song, giving the album even more breathing room to expand and envelop you in its snare. “Becoming Void” sounds like Canto III on steroids, picking a fight with Turn Loose the Swans-era My Dying Bride for lunch money, and again feels like a six-minute song at over 15 minutes due to how well-crafted it is. None of the songs overstay their welcome, but they still feel like soulful journeys to a mournful end.

Produced by Greg Chandler (Esoteric), Qroba does an amazing job of giving breathing space while also smothering the listener. The drums feel cavernous and monstrous, plodding with intent. The scant few leads2 amplify the dour vibes a thousandfold, making damn sure there’s no light escaping this realm. If there was a nitpick to be had, this is the epitome of mood music. You’re not going to grab this on a warm, sunny day out in the sun with some lemonade and a book to read.3 Qroba is solemn, reflective music if there ever was some.

And this fits in quite well with other solemn, reflection-time music from the likes of Skepticism and Shape of Despair. Qroba came at a time when I didn’t know I needed it, with all the chaos going on around the world as well as in my own circle, but I’m glad it did, as this has been playing non-stop since I first laid ears upon it. If you’ve never taken to funeral doom ever, Ennui won’t change your mind, as this is sorrow personified and exponentially amplified. However, if you need a severe purging, welcome to your new favorite band.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 319 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Old Night – Mediterranean Melancholy Review

By ClarkKent

Loneliness is a theme ripe for the sadboi genre, and given the epidemic of loneliness in our modern era, it’s a relatable one. Yet Croatian doom outfit, Old Night, tackles a more obscure topic on Mediterranean Melancholy—lighthouse keepers.1 This record marks the quintet’s fourth since forming ten years ago, and it’s the first with Ivan Hanžek stepping up as lead vocalist, following the departure of his brother, Matej, who left for personal reasons. Sadboi doom is typically ape fodder, as evidenced by the glowing review for Dawn of Solace earlier this year, yet somehow this ended up in my lap. Time to find out if Steel Druhm will be shedding tears at this missed opportunity to review one of his favorite genres.

Old Night certainly has a lot in common with sadboi stalwarts, Dawn of Solace. They mix pensive cleans with harsher growls, leaning much more heavily into the cleans. Songs often begin with melancholic guitar leads, Insomnium-style, and delve into Novembers Doom-esque rhythmic chugs, but Old Night plays at a much slower pace than these other bands. These elements mix nicely on tunes like “Stormbirds,” where an Eastern-tinged melody combines with Hanžek’s solemn tones to tug at the heartstrings. It builds up to an impassioned call to “Unleash the storm / unleash the stormbirds,” among the record’s highlight moments. The formula throughout Mediterranean Melancholy is consistent, but breaks on the finale, “The Loneliness of Lighthouse Keepers.” This song opens with a bit of soft rock arpeggios before Hanžek croons about a lighthouse keeper and a man on the moon. It mixes magical realism with raw emotion and gentle strums with heavy riffs to wring tears from attentive listeners. It stands as the album’s emotional peak.

Compared to the likes of Dawn of Solace, Old Night proves to be a bit rough around the edges. This is most apparent in the vocals. Hanžek sings his heart out, but his pitch is all over the place. He fares better when singing at a lower pitch, such as the beginning of “Chasing Yesterdays,” but at higher volumes, his voice leans more shout-y than sing-y. Luka Petrović’s growls similarly lack the oomph required to be effective. A good growl here and there would certainly help to darken the tone, but it feels like Petrović holds himself back the few times he steps in. Instrumentally, Old Night fares better. On guitars, Bojan Frian and Ivan Hanžek excel at the sort of melodic leads that ooze sorrow. They strum some memorable hooks, though I wish these hooks had more airtime. The production doesn’t often allow Petrović’s bass to make itself known, but he lets loose with a nice bass line on the finale. Similarly, Nikola Jovanović commands the kit with some hefty, slow-paced beats that add to the record’s gravitas. These guys can play, but are let down by production and songwriting choices.

Underwhelming vocals are rarely a dealbreaker for me, but Old Night’s biggest issue lies in its songwriting. While the record wraps up at a tidy 43 minutes, each tune ranges from the seven to nine-minute mark, and not a single one earns its stay. While Mediterranean Melancholy features traditional song structures better suited to four to five-minute bites, Old Night pads each track with tedious instrumental passages and slow, repetitive choruses. Most egregious is “Ghosts,” which gets through its full progression after four minutes but continues on for another five and a half minutes, seemingly in search of a reason to keep going. Only “The Loneliness of Lighthouse Keepers” justifies going beyond six minutes, but even this could benefit from snipping a minute or two off.

Sadly, Old Night doesn’t quite scratch that sadboi itch. The elements are all there: the melodies, the lyrical content, the musicianship. Yet they fall prey to a common pitfall—bloat. With some cutting, Mediterranean Melancholy could have been a serviceable EP. As it stands, the long, meandering songs reveal how tough it is for doom to toe the line between causing listeners to shed tears of sorrow or tears of boredom. Next time I hope they can hone in on their strengths and trim the fat.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: November 21st, 2025

#20 #2025 #croatianMetal #dawnOfSolace #doomMetal #insomnium #mediterraneanMelancholy #meuseMusicRecords #nov25 #novembersDoom #oldNight #review #reviews

Falling Leaves – The Silence That Binds Us Review

By Twelve

Doom metal and I have not been getting along much lately. I’ve noticed this in recent years—the slow, the sad, the funereal, it just doesn’t have the impact it used to. Even the stuff I used to love has fallen by the wayside a bit. But something about Dubai’s (originally Amman) Falling Leaves has compelled me to dust off my hat and give it another shot. Maybe it’s the gorgeous cover art. Maybe it’s the fact that The Silence That Binds Us is only Falling Leaves’s sophomore full-length, despite having been around since 2009, with their debut released in 2012. Thirteen years is a long time between albums, but few genres benefit from long, careful consideration like doom metal. Suffice to say, I came into this assignment with high expectations—and walked away with new love for the genre.

Strictly speaking, though, Falling Leaves are probably closer to the “doom/death” category than simply doom metal, because their music is so energetic. Still, it is mournful, blending thematic elements from Altars of Grief and Shape of Despair. It includes guest vocals from Paul Kuhr of November’s Doom, which is another likely influence. The pacing for The Silence That Binds Us ranges from the lively (“The Angel on My Shoulder”) to the dismal (“The Everlasting Wounds”), but while the music often feels powerful, it never loses its woeful overtures (Fabio Alessandrini walks a tightrope on drums, but does an exceptional job). Bashar Haroun and Kuhr’s vocal talents are mighty: there is plaintive singing, impassioned roaring, and more narration than I usually care for in my metal, but Falling Leaves pulls it off—often, the sudden clarity on the touching lyrics is welcome and Haroun has a gravitas to his delivery that suits it well. In all, The Silence That Binds Us has a lot going for it, a strong foundation to build some strong songs on.

Fortunately, Falling Leaves can write strong songs. Opener “Carvings” is some of the best death/doom I’ve heard in a long time; its chorus in particular towers over the listener with aching melancholy. Ariel Perchuk’s (Liliumdust) keys do some serious lifting—I could go on for the entire review about well-placed, sweeping keyboard work—but here it’s a simple piano melody that lifts the chorus from something great to something amazing (a similar effect appears in “We Are Alone”). On “Ashes of My Mind,” a heavy, devastating piece that greatly highlights Ala’a Swalha and Fadi Stanboulieh’s talents on guitar, it is Perchuk’s ever-present piano that keeps the music grounded in doom territories, contrasting pained tremolos and heavy riffs that complement baleful roars. Swalha and Stanboulieh’s seamless transitions from hard-hitting riffs to soft notes to weeping tremolos allow Falling Leaves to write with variety, and no two songs on The Silence That Binds Us feel overly similar.

All of this would be for naught—or, at least, for less—if The Silence That Binds Us didn’t sound good, but Falling Leaves has that base covered too. Dan Swanö’s master brings his trademark clarity to every moment. As is perhaps typical for this style of music, Ali M.’s bass is very much a background player, but listen to the stirring pre-chorus of “Carvings” and you can hear it driving the tension. This is a rare moment where the bass gets to shine, but its contribution is exactly what it needs to be. Really, my only issue with The Silence That Binds Us is its pacing. With only one song shorter than six minutes, it feels a touch overlong at fifty-one minutes. If I were to continue nitpicking, I’d say “Shattered Hopes” has such a strong “closer” feel to it that I feel like the songs that follow it meander a touch. That’s not a knock on the songs themselves, mind—just a statement on how much I love “Shattered Hopes.”

Falling Leaves are reigniting my passion for an entire subgenre. You can hear the amount of work that’s gone into The Silence That Binds Us. If it’s not actually thirteen years of painstaking writing and planning, then it sure sounds like it anyway. The songwriting is stellar, the performances are great, and it sounds amazing. Minor issues with pacing aside, I really can’t find much fault here. If you read this, Falling Leaves, please don’t make me wait a decade for the next one! Your music is much too good to keep quiet.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Meuse Music Records
Website: fallingleaves.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: September 5th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AltarsOfGrief #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #FallingLeaves #Liliumdust #MelodicDeathMetal #MeuseMusicRecords #NovembersDoom #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #ShapeOfDespair #TheSilenceThatBindsUs #UnitedArabEmiratesMetal

God’s Funeral – El Despertar Dels Morts Review

Written By: Nameless_n00b_605 Metal is full of niche genres, and within that sphere, doom metal is full of…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2025 #Ahab #Aug25 #DoomMetal #Doom:VS #ElDespertarDelsMorts #Entertainment #FuneralDoom #God'sFuneral #MeuseMusicRecords #review #reviews #ShapeofDespair #SpanishMetal
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/122233/

God’s Funeral – El Despertar Dels Morts Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Written By: Nameless_n00b_605

Metal is full of niche genres, and within that sphere, doom metal is full of unique variations. Funeral doom, doom metal’s basement-dwelling offspring, is as impenetrable a metal genre as some of the nastiest bands in the business. Trudging, droning song structures, distorted, bellowing vocals, and (as the genre tag suggests) the vibe of being at a funeral can make for a taxing listen on a good day. Nailing all these individual elements isn’t so much a challenge as a rite of passage, but truly meshing these staples together is a skill few bands possess. God’s Funeral joins the cacophonic dirge on their first LP, El Despertar Dels Morts. Hailing from Tarragona, Spain, can their brand of Catholic-guilt-infused funeral doom make a splash in the cesspool of sadness, or is it merely a teardrop in the bucket of filth?

El Despertar Dels Morts has all the hallmarks of great funeral doom; roomy production offers space for naturalistic string arrangements and atmospheric organ playing. Lead singer Abel nails the classic funeral doom tone, with vocals that sound like they are recorded in the roomy basement of a moldy castle. The riffing from guitarists Naila and Juan is suitably churning and ominous, and Sergi’s drumming fills the deliberate void with hard-hitting playing. The kicker is that God’s Funeral nails production and musicianship, but misses the mark on nearly every level otherwise. From songwriting to editing, and from pacing to variety, El Despertar Dels Morts fumbles at every turn. In a five-track album spanning nearly fifty minutes, it is a struggle to find standout moments in a sea of nearly identical song structures, played-out riffs, and tedious vocals.

Where God’s Funeral bucks trends is in the most unfortunate places. Genre stalwarts like Ahab, DOOM:VS, and Shape of Despair feature similarly deliberate song structures, but break these up with vocal variety, melodic sections, left turns into death metal, and more. God’s Funeral eschews all of that, and the only notable moments of reprieve from the grinding, one-note style on El Despertar Dels Morts are the wonderfully rich-sounding string work that are a staple across the album, an epic organ section at the end of “Ara Que Torna El Silenci,” and the militaristic marching drum intro to “La Processó De Les Ombres.” It is telling that you have to reach for points of interest on this LP; they act like life rafts in a never-ending storm of monotony.

The back half of El Despertar Dels Morts is the strongest part of the album, if only for the fact that the songs stay under ten minutes. These last three tracks at least offer a glimpse at what God’s Funeral could be capable of with a lot more editing. “Fossa Comuna” is the standout track that exemplifies the best of what the band can do. An atmospheric bass intro leads to an actual beat that surpasses the downright sleep-inducing tempo of previous tracks, and the drumming sounds alive for once, finally helping a track rise above the sub-50 bpm droning that drags across the entire LP. While having an album that sounds similar throughout isn’t necessarily a negative, especially when that one song is a ripper, God’s Funeral missed the memo. Telling apart individual tracks on El Despertar Dels Morts is downright challenging. It pains me to be so negative about a band that is invested in their craft and obvious worshippers at the doom altar. God’s Funeral is so close on many levels, but it leans into genre tropes so intensely that they become repellent.

El Despertar Dels Morts is, finally, a monotonous listen that feels more like prepping for bed as opposed to reveling in the big sleep. Funeral doom is slow, it is atmospheric, it is crushing, and God’s Funeral does an admirable job attempting to turn these elements into a cohesive album. But the band draws from the same well too often, leaving El Despertar Dels Morts stylistically empty. In a genre that is already difficult to break into as a band and a listener, God’s Funeral has all the makings of a great addition to the pantheon, but it fails in the most fundamental elements. The band can play well, and the album sounds great from a production standpoint, but the most important part, the songwriting, sags at every turn. Fans of funeral doom may find some choice moments or good background listening with El Despertar Dels Morts, but unless you love the genre, this album won’t change any hearts.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Meuse Music Records
Websites: godsfuneral.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/godsfuneral.band
Releases Worldwide: August 15th, 2025

#2025 #Ahab #Aug25 #DoomMetal #DoomVS #ElDespertarDelsMorts #FuneralDoom #GodSFuneral #MeuseMusicRecords #Review #Reviews #ShapeOfDespair #SpanishMetal

Soliloquium – Famine Review

By Steel Druhm

In my never-ending quest to accumulate as many bands as possible that remind me of tragically defunct Finnish doom-death legends, Rapture, I crossed paths with Sweden’s two-man project, Soliloquium, back in 2018 through their Contemplations album. It was an entirely pleasant slab of moody, emotive melancholic death borrowing from early Katatonia, Insomnium, and of course, Rapture. It scratched an itch and made me a fan. 2020s Things We Leave Behind hit just as COVID was starting its assault on the world, and the album’s downcast and depressive beauty became a staple in the House of Steel as we watched the world lock down and drift. Somehow, I missed that Soliloquium dropped a new album in 2022, and I almost missed their latest too. Famine is the band’s fifth release, and Stefan Nordström and Jonas Bergkvist are still steering the ship, though this time they invited lots of friends to help out. Can this depressive duo keep the weepy doom-death flowing like fine wine on a cold Swedish day?

Things start out promising on the wide-ranging title track. It’s in the usual Soliloquium modality, with morose clean croons and sparse melancholic guitar plucking giving way to darker tones with guttural death roars and blackened shrieks cropping up. Doomy harominies percolate and fall off, and the mood is kept dark and brooding. The equipoise between melodic trills and the crushing quasi-death-doom is well executed and convincing. Strong hints of October Tide and Swallow the Sun flow freely, and the feel of a brutal winter of discontent is achieved. At the 3:45 point, things seem to end, only to lurch back into what sounds like an entirely new composition, and by the end of the 6:37 runtime, the enterprise ends up feeling long but worthwhile. Far superior is “2 A.M.,” which perfectly encapsulates all that’s right with the Soliloquium sound. It has a lot of Rapture’s best elements blended in, and there’s some beautifully emotional guitar work here in the vein of Tuomas Saukkonen’s Before the Dawn / Black Sun Aeon style. Jari Lindholm (Enshine, ex-Slumber) provides amazing lead guitar work here, elevating the song several degrees, and the nods to Katatonia’s Brave Murder Day era are icing on the depression cake.

Other solid moments include the later era Anathema-esque fragile Goth of “The Healing Process,” where beautiful vocals from Bianca Höllmüller enhance the weepy charms; and the very Ghost Brigade-esque doom rock of “Poison Well,” where Chelsea Rocha-Murphy of Dawn of Ouroboros drops by to keep things despondent with her haunting vocals. I especially enjoy the death n’ roll bit that erupts around the 3-minute mark. “Själamörker” is also quite tasty. Sung in the duo’s native Swedish, Stefan Nordström effectively blends his sadboi cleans and mammoth cookie monster roars on a bulldozer of a tune that hits every doom-death trope. It’s heavy but sorrowful, crushing but melodic. Unfortunately, things go pear-shaped for the album’s final third, where the heavy reliance on clean singing turns out to be ill-conceived. The last 3 tracks all suffer greatly from vocal issues (Stefan’s or his guests) as clean but underpowered, droning, and overly twee vocal tones become prevalent. The songs themselves have good things going for them, but they can’t overcome the vocal shortcomings. At 51 minutes, Famine also suffers from bloat, especially on the final few “troubled” tracks.

While I’ve always appreciated Stefan’s death and blackened vocals, he wasn’t known for his clean singing, usually employing guest singers to do the job. Here, he tries to carry more of the load himself with mixed results. While he’s effective on “The Healing Process,” he too often adopts a static, droning Goth-rock style that feels weak, flat, and entirely lacking in oomph. This derails tracks like “Weight of the Unspoken” and the closing epic “Vigil.” On the plus side, his death roars and blackened rasps are spot on and as effective as ever. His guitar work is always high quality and a reason the material resonates, as he does a good job conveying a bleak, cold atmosphere across Famine, borrowing from all the big names in the genre for some inspired moments.

I’m a fan of what Soliloquium do and there are great moments of melancholic doom here, but the writing isn’t as consistent as before and the vocal shortcomings are sometimes glaring. If Famine stopped at “Själamörker, ” this would be a very good album. It doesn’t, though, and by the final act, the weaknesses begin to show through. Warts and all, Famine is still a worthwhile listen with some big moments. Fans of the sadboi ways should give it a chance and see how it hits them in the feelz. I still miss Rapture.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: soliloquium.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/soliloquiumband
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #BeforeTheDawn #Contemplations #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #Famine #GhostBrigade #Katatonia #MeuseMusicRecords #OctoberTide #Rapture #Review #Reviews #Soliloquium #SwallowTheSun #SwedishMetal #TheThingsWeLeaveBehind